About Me

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** I think it's time for all creative souls to step forward. Make art,  teach art,  give art share your soul. see if that is what it will take to help stabilize what going on in the world today. November 2016

I’m a Humanist and a Buddhist and I meditate when I can, hey no one is perfect. I’m also a thinking man. I spend a lot of time in my head. I’m trying to grow into the man I would be the most proud of. I really like the guy I am but hey who can’t be better. Loving human kind for a sensitive man like me has proven to be more difficult than I could have thought. I have not given up, I just strengthen my mission.

I’m a good conversationalist and a better kisser. I'm a Photographer, Artist, Painter, Poet, short story writer, good cook and baker. So art and Music hold major place cards in my life.

I have a wonderful Partner who is supportive and inspiring. A nicer and sweeter man I could not have imagined. His name is Herschell

Buddha Quotes

Sunday, July 18, 2010

The Demon Boxes......

This is from a dream… Sunday, July 18, 2010

It starts with Herschell and I in a room that was reminiscent of my childhood room in Ohio on Virginia Ave., but it’s not. We are playing with what seems like old style Army men and cows, cars, buildings, people, tree, dogs and such all made in that familiar green plastic with the characteristic ridge on the sides on a big wooden table in the middle of the room. Then Hersch stood up and said he had to get ready to go, so he started putting on things out of our closet like a white turtleneck but it had a spot, a green pair of corduroys but they were ripped, white dress shirt but it was ripped also. Then my stepfather Jimmy came in the room and began to instruct Hersch on the proper way to dress but Hersch ended up in pants with the top part made of squares of blue and red and yellow flannel with green and white spots in the middle. Above the knee and down were horizontal stripes of orange and blue flannel with little black and brown drawing on them. They were made in the style of Raver pants (loose fitting with extra wide bell bottoms). His shirt was a pajama style with green and orange dancing bears on it. I was shocked by the look of it.

Then suddenly I was walking across the street to the park and saying goodbye to Herschell. As he walked through the park I walked to a small play area closer to the middle of the park and I could see three people coming across the park towards me. The small play area consisted of a giant slice of a Red wood tree maybe 30 feet across, two bent metal tubes that crossed over heads (they came out of the wood and over our heads down on the other side) and four swings hung from one tube separated by a spinning tire swing. On the other tube were smaller metal climbing bars. The whole things made like an X. It seemed terribly unsafe but I told myself I didn’t make it. At the beginning there were just a few people there mainly me and Stephen. He was on the spinning tire and between sentences would spin and ask me to stop him from spinning while he laughed. The three people coming towards me finally made it to the play area and they were city workers there to remove the boxes that captured ghost-demons roaming through the park. The boxes get full and have to be replaced. The two men and one woman were dressed regularly but had special equipment. I knew the bigger guy but not well. They spayed ‘special’ oil on the poll that was right next to the play area and started prying the box off the poll. It smelled terrible but we all knew that that was the demons scent. As they finished the first one more people came to complain they waited too long to change the boxes. While they were working I notice there were small ants all around us and people stepped around and over them. I grabbed the ‘special’ oil to spray them and the female city worker freaked out and yelled at me to not kill the ants, she hated when people did that. Then I saw a large black beetle defending himself from the attacking ants. So I got a stick and flicked him to my right into the grass. People cheered when they removed the box. The big gay guy said he could not remove the other boxes because he was not strong enough. I then noticed that there were about six to seven demon boxes in the park. He walked over to a giant black porn star that was sitting on the edge of the Red wood circle and announced that this guy would take over because of his great strength and the people cheered. Stephen said he hoped they would finish today and I said I wanted a cup of tea and then I woke up.///


Not Getting Caught....

This is from a dream Tuesday, March 09, 2010.

I was skateboarding in a city and then I was in a school after hours with some other kids.

I was skating through the halls and then I felt I should get to class.

I walked into a class and I was a little early so not all the other kids were there.

I sat down at a desk that wasn’t mine and started working on some purple clay that partly a slab on the desk. It was already started with a downtown city look to it.

I started craving in the same style that was already there. I had the feeling it belonged to a girl in the class.

When I came in the desks were facing towards the Green board to the right of the door.

I was called to the office for something and when I got back the desk were facing towards the door and the green board was under the desks.

The Teacher seemed to like what I was doing with the art piece. Only one student made a comment that he knew it wasn’t mine.

Then I left and went to the side of the school that was a ticket office and a lot of people were there buying tickets to things and talking.

A lady who felt like my Aunt (but I’ve never seen her before) was standing next to me talking to her friend waiting for my Uncle (also unknown) to come with the tickets.

I looked down and saw a lot of Silver and Brass jewelry. It was there in a built in concrete, U shaped curve. There was an open glass door covering half of it.

I saw the jewelry and started to pick it up. Because I knew it shouldn’t be there. My Aunt saw me, but her friend did not. I handed her a piece on request and she liked it a lot.

When I picked up all I could carry but not all of it, I asked my Aunt for the ring I gave her and she said, “I want it, no one is going to miss this one ring”.

I got it off her finger and she pouted, but I kept it anyway. I said I was going to turn it in. The family + friend followed me for a little while.

After they turned a different way (the three of them were very happy) I walked up a street and ran into Herschell and we went to the apartment of a girl I don’t think we knew to have sex and the door was unlocked.

On the way I showed Herschell the jewelry and picked a ring with Buddha’s palm on it and told Herschell he had to pick one before I took it to the office.

The girls bedroom looked like anyone’s would that were late for something. It was a one bedroom apartment. We had quick sex because I was worried about her coming home soon and catching us there.

Afterwards we grabbed all our stuff and I couldn’t find my socks and then I couldn’t remember if I brought them or not.

We left by the front door and my heart was beating so fast. We past her in the stairwell but then it was me playing out scenarios of if we passed her in the stairwell.

Then we left and saw her at the bottom of the stairs and I turned away so she could not see my face. I felt like we had done this before and she would figure it out this time.

I dropped the jewelry in the school office and told them where I found it. They looked happy and said there might be a reward.

I went back to the same class and this time we had desktops sized blackboards on our desks with chalk drawings them and mine was half way completed by the same girl.

My desk kept rolling forward and backward.

[I had the feeling of being found out through most of the dream.]

It ended with me working on the chalk drawing but feeling more and more like something was going to happen, so I woke myself up.///


Sunday, July 11, 2010

Thanks, but no thanks

As I walk down Santa Monica Blvd to catch the bus to downtown for modern dance class, I am deciding whether skipping “rush-rush quick- quick” [the tricks that happen during rush hour are always fast, to be able to get home to their wives, etc.] was a good thing. Sometimes I can’t go to dance class because I can’t afford to skip any of the work times; I need the money. Why can’t I have the life that my friends in dance class have? They only have to worry about school, dancing well and if someone likes them.

Just like me….as if!

Something has to change. I can’t keep living this life. Why are my only options to keep turning tricks and live on the street or to go back home and face the wrath and whim of my step-monster? There has to be a better way. I guess there is a third option; I could accept the offer to live with any of the people who have offered but for different reasons that hasn’t felt right yet.

Just yesterday the Sisters [five female impersonators who worked at a local club and owned an apartment in the neighborhood] hinted that I should not be living on the streets and maybe I should think about living with a friend or maybe a group home?

Thanks for the kind thoughts but no thank you. I have seen the inside of group and foster homes and that is not for me. They are like warehouses for kids and a way for someone else to receive a check just for being an adult. The Sisters apologized and let it drop.

I know I need to change my life, but how?

Part of me doesn’t want it to change at all. I love my street family and the fact that they helped and supported me all this time made all the difference. I most likely would have been dead without them. When the Sisters first offered me a place to sleep on a really cold night I said “Thanks, but no thanks” because staying with the pack was important and I didn’t want to be a “cutter”, [a person who seeks good things and excludes their friends]. That is one of the worst things out here. I started to do a few things without them lately. I invite them to come as much as I can. But they usually turn me down. The only one who goes sometimes is my big sister Rainbow. She often comes back with stories of what a great day or night we had and always I try to make sure of it. I want all of us to have “a regular life”, full of the things that other people gripe about. I think because I left my “rents” house without being kicked out I was na├»ve enough to believe that any kid could get off streets and more importantly that they all would want to. Like, “O my God, was I ever wrong!” My pack believes they belong here. They believe they are “throwaways” who don’t have the right to anything better than being best of the trash. Every time it comes up I get mad and try to change their minds.

They always say “What’s the problem? We are free.”

“Yes, we are free, but free to be threatened, pushed, harassed, chased and bugged [literally and figuratively].”

They say, “We stand up for ourselves. Not many people out here mess with us.”

“I am almost 16 years old and I am tired of sleeping in parks, abandoned cars and buildings, friend’s garages, couches and the alleys of Hollywood,” I say.

“Sometimes we get to sleep in a bed after the trick leaves,” said Colt.

“I am tired of waking up in our favorite alley in the morning and wondering what the dark night brought us: theft, stabbing, someone new or my personal favorite bugs; little, biting, pinching, crawling bugs.”

“Sometimes the bugs are pretty,” said Rainbow with a laugh.

“Yes, that is true every now and again; some bugs are pretty, but that’s not the point. How come I’m always the only one who thinks of getting off the street permanently is a good thing? Everyone else seems happy to be where we are?”

“Oh, here we go again with the 'regular life' talk,” said Colt and De De.

“I sometimes want to get off the streets but that takes money and a lot of it. If you haven’t noticed, our money doesn’t flow like that,” said Rainbow.

“and what about the family TK? We would need at least three or four bedrooms to fit everybody,” Colt said strongly. He was always thinking about keeping us together.

I didn’t tell them the dream I had about the family breaking up when Colt goes to jail after protecting Darn-it from Kelly James. De De gets PG and Rainbow leaves to stay in SD when Sahara tries to do rehab again after the judge tells her that it's that or jail. My dreams feel so real sometimes that they freak me out, so telling others is kind of like, weird even with the people I trust. This one I’ll save until a better time.

I just dropped it after Colt spoke up. He often has the last word if Rainbow is not running the convo.

I feel like a dog for even bringing it up. So I did something that was really hard for an emotional kid with a strong case of “hyperactivity”. I stayed quiet for the rest of the night.


The Sisters had been asking me to help them more and more. If I wasn’t around they would just ask for me to contact them when I came back. The last three months of the year were cold and rainy. On a really bad night we stayed in a shelter (never again). So now it’s over to Ms. Brenda's couch and floor if we have to. She’s very nice but we don’t like to bother her and her kid. Sometimes we would split up and I would stay with friends or go to my Moms. One night I was on the way to stay at my school friend Victor's house when I crossed paths with the Sisters coming back from a show and they offered me a bed in one of their apartments. “Thanks, but no. I have a spot at Victor's house.” They pushed harder and I accepted, a bed all to myself sounded great. I called Victor and told him I was not coming and everything was “tacos”. It was a code word to let him know that I was in a good place. We agreed to connect the next day at school.

The bed was a little hard and the room was dark and spooky with the lights off. When you sleep on the street it’s never completely dark. You have street lights, building lights and if you’re lucky, the moon is out. You never think about that until you’re in a room where it’s so dark you can’t see your hand in front of your face. After a while I started to see shapes in the dark and then it was like the shapes were trying to tell me a story. Part of me was freaked, the other was interested. Stuff like this was happening more and more. It started when I was a kid in Ohio. That’s a story for another time.

The shapes on the wall were trying to tell me something but I couldn’t really understand. I laid there with the covers pulled up to my neck. I was trying not to just out of my skin. Like I said this is not brand new to me but it’s still scary. I watched until I fell asleep.

So yeah the last three months of 1978 were a wet mess, to be truthful. I started making plastic outfits and wearing cat-suits or long johns under them. Turning tricks in the rain is a drag and not in the good way. I was so happy when some of my regulars started using the pager that the nice lady from the Rotary Club gave me awhile ago. It was great to know in advance that I would have a paying trick. Sometimes they'd pay for my whole night. By then I had decided that I needed to make a certain amount each night to live the way I wanted. It’s a good thing that Colt never asked all of us to pool our money all the time. I didn’t really drink and by then I didn’t do drugs of any kind so I often had money when no one else did.

I didn’t know it then but the night the Sister offered me a bed to sleep in alone would signal a change coming to my life….again.

written by on November 22, 2009 edited spm/tat

Friday, July 2, 2010

Should I stay or should I go now?

I walk to school alone today because Darn-it is sick, maybe. When I woke up this morning, he was still a-sleep, and that was kind of odd. Usually, no matter what he has done the night before, he’s awake at the crack of dawn.

He said his father would wake up everyone in the house yelling that no one in his house was going to waste the day. Often he would yank the cover off of Darn-it and his brothers and pour cold water on them if they didn’t get out of bed quickly. Most of the kids in our group of misfits have nightmares from time to time, myself included. Mine are about falling or being chased a lot, none of them are as bad as Darn-it’s.

So today I was the first to wake up, I crawled out of my bedroll to see why Darn-it wasn’t awake yet. He was sweating, felt hot on his forehead and cold on his chest and arms. When I checked his chest, he woke up and looked at me confused like he didn’t know where he was. I asked him if he wanted some water, he nodded yes. While I was getting the water, I did my usual count of people, bags and all our stuff. All was accounted for. I woke Colt and told him about Darn-it being sick. Rainbow heard me and started looking through her purse for a stash of meds.

“Teddy, what are his symptoms?” She asked with her head deep in her giant bag.

Everyone knows I hate being called Teddy, but everyone also knows that Rainbow can call me anything as long as it’s with love. For some reason that I have not figured out yet, she has a Southern accent when she first wakes up from sleeping and then not at all for the rest of the day or night, not even when she’s really tired or drunk. I can’t explain it, no one else noticed until I brought it up. So I tell her his symptoms like a good nurse. She hands me some bruised little white pills to give to him. She would never give us anything bad. So I prop Darn-it up and gave him what Rainbow handed me, with a drink of water. He smiles a little and lies back down, I cover him up.

Colt says we should take him to Ms. Brenda’s pad. (She runs a day care for extra money, she has an extra room that her brother uses when he’s not in jail and she is one of Colt’s best friends outside the group.) So we all start to rise and pull ourselves together. I start to think that I should call the school and tell them that Darn-it is sick and I will be late. No one else ever thinks to do this; they don’t care about school that much.

Taking a cab over to Ms. Brenda’s apartment would be the best and smartest way to get there, but a cab wouldn’t stop for us even if we had suits made of twenty-dollar bills and we danced the Hustle in the middle of the street. The bus was the next best thing. But first we had to get our stuff to its holding place a block away, behind Joseph’s Liquor Store. I think it really was called something like “Sunset Liquor or Boulevard Stop”, but we all called it Joseph’s since he bought it and started being super nice to us.

After that, De-De, Tim, Kenny, and Dana went off to find breakfast and “what ev” they were going to do today. Colt, Rainbow, our sick little friend, and I headed over to the bus stop to wait for a bus to Ms. Brenda’s. Colt had called her from the store; she said to bring him right over. I asked Colt how old Ms. Brenda was and he said 22. I was a little shocked; she seemed so much older than us. She had her own apartment and was taking care of all those little kids and not messing it all up. I was completely impressed.

We made it with only a few dirty looks by the people on the bus. I bet everyone thought Darn-it was “dope sick.” People always think that when they see a street kid looking not well. We get sick too; just like them–a cold here, the flu there–they can sit and spin if they don’t understand that. One old lady said, “I think your friend needs a hospital.” Before I could say, “I think it’s only a cold,” Rainbow shouted, “He’s got some kind of cold! Mind your own damn business, you nosy old bag!”

If Colt was our dad/big brother, then Rainbow was most definitely our mom/big sister. They looked out for us all the time, and we were happy to have them. You might think this is like an after-school special where the big brother and/or big sister protect us from the bad guys, but this is real life, they take our family very seriously. I felt lucky that they liked me. Just because my cousin asked them to teach me the street deal didn’t mean they had to accept me. They could have dropped me as soon as he went to jail about three years ago but, like I said, I was lucky–someone was watching over me. There are times I can almost feel it.

We get Darn-it to Ms. Brenda’s pad and all tucked in. Both Colt and Rainbow are going to stay and kick it for a while. I have to get to school. I give a big hug to Ms. Brenda’s son Robert and I can tell he likes. Brenda always whispers that he lets only two people get that close to him: me and her. Well, I took an interest in him from the first time I stayed at her house.

I said my goodbyes and started walking to school. It was already starting to feel warm. It took me about 45 minutes to walk to Hollywood High School from N. Cahuenga Blvd. and Romaine Street. I guess I walk fast when I am alone. By the time I got close to school, there were only about 35 minutes left in 2nd period, so I went to the locker room to clean up and change because I had had to skip it this morning.

No one was in there, so I had the sinks to myself. The other kids would not be back for about 20 minutes. I cleaned up quickly and started to change my clothes. I was pulling on this white kind of loose, knee-length slip (thrift store find) and some white loose white shorts (again thrift store), white socks, white shoes, and white T-shirt that I had hand painted a white design on it in art class last week. I remembered to bring a white lacy vest to pull it all together. I was going for a sort of gender–bending, tennis angel thang. It sounded good when I grabbed my clothes in the morning.

I felt someone staring at me. I don’t immediately look up when I feel this sensation because sometimes there is no one there, so I assume it is one of my guardians watching over me or like I’ve been told, some kind of witch watching me from afar or maybe a ghost. (I guess I get it all. I never know, so I just wait until it’s evident or they make a sound.)

Then I heard a locker dial spin, and it was Virgil Tortuga, a.k.a. Rocky, a giant of a kid at 6' 2". He is here from New York for this year because his parents are in the Biz. His father is in special effects, and his mother does makeup and hair. I had heard they are very good.

He was behind me kind of lurking. I turned so my slip skirt would float up. When I looked at him, he was smiling. I never know if a guy is going to be cool or not or if he used to be but not anymore. But here is Rocky smiling at me, hmm why?

“Hey you, what’s happening, Rocky?”

“I’m just changing from my gym clothes early to go to the photo lab to pick up some head shots.” (Yes, they did head shots at our school, another Hollywood thing, I guess.)

“That’s cool; I’m just changing before class.”

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude on your dressing time.” (I think his NYC attitude is changing already.)

“No, it’s cool, I’m done.” (And I looked down and smoothed the slick white fabric.)

“Yea, Ted, you look fresh!”

“Wow! I wouldn’t have thought you would like something like this, much less know my name.”

“Oh sure, man, my sister Nicole and I talk about your fresh style all the time. It wouldn’t work for me, but that doesn’t mean I don’t notice.”

“Wow that kind of has me trippin’. I thought you thought I was some kind of fag-freak.”

“No, you’re a creative type, I get that. I wish I was more like that and less a big stone-handed type.”

“Naw, dude, I don’t know you that well, but I only hear good things about you.” (OK, I lied; there is no one at this school that everyone likes. This is a nice moment; I don’t need to ruin it with the truth.)

“Aw, that’s cool, thanks for saying.” (By this time, he was in his underwear, and that was my cue to book out of there.)

“OK, I’m ‘Audi.’”

“5000,” he says with a smile, and we do the school’s handshake: back hand slap, front hand slap, and thumbs up and out.

I smiled and said “later days,” my own personal departure phrase. I looked back just in time to see his tightie-whities hit the floor. Nice butt, too bad he’s my age.

I take a seat in the hall to wait outside of Room 503 for the previous Home Ec class to be over. I was sitting on the bench there for about two minutes before “Cliff-a-tina” showed up. Ms. Thing was on her way back from the bathroom when she spotted me.

“What’s happening, ghirl?”

“Oh, I’m waiting for this class to be over so I can go in.”

“You have Mrs. Jons for 3rd period Homo Ec?”

“Yeah, ghirl, you know a ghirl like me doesn’t have to learn to cook, but it can’t hurt to catch a good man.”

“I heard that, Ms. Thing. What’s going on with this fly outfit? Let me see this.”

[I stand up and do a twirl] “Oh this, It’s just another TK original.” (Like oh my god, was I killing them or what?)

“I am like totally into your “sassy girl in white” look. Is that a slip?”

“Yes, ghirl, feel it; it is so soft. I found it at the ‘Hollyhood’ Thrift store.”

“That is a total find. Two snaps, ghirl!”

Then the bell rang. Cliff-a-tina said she needed to get back to Mrs. Rothmen’s English class to return the bathroom pass and she would see me later.

Clifford was one of the Gay Junior Mafia that ruled a part of Hollywood High. One of his two dads was in charge of new talent at Capitol Records, and the other was the top man at the Mondrian Hotel, together it gave him a kind of clout in a school like this. Before the next period was over, everyone would know about this outfit and if Clifford loved it or hated it. But because I liked Clifford and didn’t want anything from him, he seemed to like me as well. I guess it was also the fact that I was very out without apologies; even at a school like this, kids still somewhat apologized for being too gay.

Inside Mrs. Jons’ class, I was the first kid to arrive. She was at her desk and only looked up when I went to the window. I was thinking about Darn-it and if he was going to be OK.

“Mr. Kingston, what are you wearing today? Is that a skirt?”

“No, Mrs. Jons, it’s a slip over shorts.”

She mumbled something under her breath.

“Excuse me, Mrs. Jons, did you say something?”

“I said … I wish this school had a dress code.”

“We do, it’s called individuality, didn’t you hear?”

I laughed, and she looked sour.

“Mrs. Jons, I didn’t know you had a problem with my choice in clothes?”

“Well, I think you and some of the other students take the freedom to wear what you want too far sometimes.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, but being young and different is what it’s all about at a school like this, I thought.”

Other kids started to come in at that time, so we dropped the topic. I was happy to see Benji coming through the door. He saw me, and I saw his eyes take in my look and then a big smile showed on his face.

We all sat down. I could feel the eyes of the other kids on me. Why now, this was not the craziest thing I’ve worn here even this week. Then I looked to my left and saw what the issue was. One of the girls who felt like she was born to hate me, she sitting at the end of our row in an outfit very close to what I am wearing but not nearly as fun or sassy. Shell Beach Rhoades, a tired wanna-be “Richie”. In a school and city like L. A. if you are a “wanna-be Richie,” then it takes a whole lot for your family to actually keep up with those Jones’.

She had on a black lace top,

over a black lace slip with a shorter black skirt,

over a white nylon lacy slip,

with black socks and Mary Janes.

Cute, I guess, but mine was cuter.

I eyed her as she eyed me. This was the ripped-jean mini all over again. She also hated me because I got better grades than her and more people liked me without being pressured. I didn’t need this today. I was ready to tell her she won and I would change just to stop the drama that I knew was coming.

Mrs. Jons could tell something was about to happen, and she had us jump right into today’s lesson.

That kept everything calm except for the many rolled eyes by the people who liked her and the people who liked me.

Close to the end of class, I was about to raise my hand for the bathroom pass when Benji read my mind and asked me to stay. So, for cute little Benji I did.

As Benji and I were getting ready to walk out, Shell and her clique walked up to us just outside the door.

“Nice outfit, Ted, where’d you get it, digging in the trash can again?”

“No, Shelby (she hated it when people called her Shelby instead of Shell), if you must know, I got a couple of the pieces at the thrift store. You should know; didn’t you do the same? It’s good to see we both can shop on a budget and look good.”

“Ohhhh!” the kids said.

“Wow, Ted, you have a budget now?”

“Ohhhh!” again.

“Oh, little Shelby, I’m not in the mood right now, but I must say you’ll have to thank your Father for keeping my pockets fat.”

“Ohhhh!” again, louder.

Her face went red, and the kids started to howl and a teacher said, “OK, break it up.” I could see her sputtering. Everyone laughed as Shell walked away mumbling to her friends.

Benji walked me to my locker saying, “You shouldn’t even think about that Shell Rhoades. She so peaked in the 9th grade.”

It felt good that Benji was trying to get me to feel better about the battle that I knew was not over. It was sweet for a str8 guy to be like that.

On to gym class … ugh! Not today with the jumping and running. Why can’t guys use the excuse, “I’m sorry, coach, but I can’t take gym today. It’s my time of the month, and it’s a doozy! But nooo, as men we don’t really have that kind of unquestionable thing that makes others understand that we feel bad. WHY?

So I dressed, did the stretches, and ran the laps, but even Mr. Chuy could tell my heart wasn’t in it.

He gave me the option to just sit the class out if I wanted. Wow! He never does that. I must be looking bad. As I was jogging to the bench that held the “Red Dot Girls” and the asthmatics, I tripped on a sprinkler and banged my knee and my head hard on the ground. I saw stars, and they were kind of pretty. After what felt like a while, but was probably less than a minute, strong arms picked me up and carried me like nothing off the field. It was Mr. Chuy! I wanted to stay there forever. He carried me to the bench, and one of the RDG’s put a Band-Aid on my knee and elbow–I think it was Tangy, short for Tangerine Cream. She says it’s from some old song. Ugh, there is blood everywhere! I knew today was not my day. I had been asking myself all day, should I stay or should I go? I think I should have stayed with Darn-it today.

I sit for a while to clear my head, and then off to the locker room to clean up and do some damage repair. In my line of work, a guy can’t have too many scrapes and scabs; it drives the price down.

So in the locker room I think, hmm, what’s next? It’s still pretty warm; what do I have in my bag left to work the high school runways with? I dig out a couple of blue long-sleeve t-shirts and a thin pair of tie-dye thermals I’ll use for tights in dance class. The thinnest t-shirt I’ll use for a top and the other for a bottom tucking the sleeves back inside the arm holes and the neck-hole around my waist. It will look great with the white socks and shoes from the earlier outfit. It just needed some kind of flash to pull it all together. I know this is the second outfit that is pretty girlie. I think I do it sometimes to make the other kids crazy.

It’s also soo different from what I wear anytime I’m away from Hollywood. Its boy-clothes all the time without fail. Often my life depends on it. So while I’m here and safe enough, I’ll wear whatever strikes my fancy. Two weeks ago it was Army surplus every day. As I get dressed, I start to feel a little better, and I find a leather belt that De-De gave me that says “starchild” in brass lettering. Cool, this will help, but I will still need something for the neckline.

Maybe something will show up during lunch or my last two classes. I think I look good enough for Cliff-a-tina and the Gay Mafia, and Ms. Shell Rhoades can cool it now that we are not evil twins.

When I think of lunch time it brings a smile and a frown. I know I will see my friends, I don’t know if I want to see Rocky. I am soo like sure I don’t want to see Shell with her stank attitude. It may not be my time of the month, but I’m not in the mood.

September 14, 2009 written

May 16, 2010 edited by gp/tat