Month: March 2009

The shoes…

Ah, it’s sad to see the back of a weekend and to see the start of Monday… blegh, blegh, blegh!

And especially after such a good weekend… such a good one… sigh, sigh, sigh…

The weekend started with the launch of the new FTV in Village Walk.. the shoes seemed to like it… they enjoy being paraded around pretty people. There were a number of models. You could spot them easily because they were laughing and pouting, and running away every time food came past. I went with my friend, Tart, and we spent a lot of time imitating them. The more Peroni we drank the funnier we thought we were as we shoved out our boobs (well, she shoved hers out, mine were imaginary- ahem) and pretended to catwalk behind them. I seriously think people thought we were models, but that may have been the Peroni.

Talking about the Peroni, I’m not much of a beer drinker, and tend not to drink much because I am a bit of a cheap drunk… well, after a glass of wine (at dinner before the party) and a Peroni, I was convinced I was the prettiest man there, and would explain my new found model status… I left when the Idols-people (they were recently kicked out apparently) started singing. It was like a bad karaoke session.

Annnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnywaaaaaaaaaaay…

Saturday was spent cleaning… and giving the shoes cupboard break, before whipping off to a bring and braai at an olllllllllld friend… she obviously had a lot of fun… when I left later that afternoon, she stumbled to the door, let me out and went back to party. Yesterday I got an sms asking when I left and why didn’t I say good bye… good times, good times…

The shoes then got me ready and we headed to a new night club in Braamfontein. The bubbly (good stuff) was flowing, so once again I thought I was the prettiest person there. The shoes were the talk of the night… and here’s what they got up to.

Here we have the shoes waiting for a friend, G’s strappy heels to come back from the loo…

They meet up after G eventually arrived:

And off the shoes headed to the Champagne bar for a refill:
Other shoes noticed the shoes getting attention and asked if they could talk…

The shoes spotted two celeb’s chatting and snuck up to see what they were up to:

The shoes then sat back in their private booth and enjoyed a bottle of champers…

Safe to say, the shoes had a good night, before heading home to wake up to celebrate FJ’s birthday…

Ah, looking back makes Monday all the more blegh…

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Conviction and loss (Blog 2 of the day )

I have to blog again – not usual for me to have a second post of the day – and this one is a bit more serious and the return of the “ex-gay activist Rambler” as I was called recently. The post below is my more light-hearted one of the day.

In previous posts I have spoken about my journey in the ex-gay ministry and then out of it. It was a ten years of my life, and not something I would change, or encourage others to journey into. It was ten years of repression. Ultimate freedom in who I was, came with admitting that a part of me is a gay man and to many, that will define me. I allowed that. And, in it, came freedom.

And loss.

A disconnection from a place in a community called church. A group of people who believe in a God who loves them, no matter what … except if you decide to act on your homosexuality. And so, in response organisations have emerged which believe that with faith, prayer, fasting and counselling gay men and women can change their sexuality and in exchange find “normality” and a place in the “body of Christ”.

I have spoken about this in articles like Shall We Dance and on mambaonline, and will continue to speak out about it.

I read in a friend’s blog, about his wife who I’ve known since I was in school and is now a pastor in the Methodist Church. She was invited to be a minister in a church in Pretoria, but they discovered she had written an article in a book, called Insiders and Outsiders – Pastoral Care with Christian Gay Women. After a leader in the church read this article, he made copies, distributed it to the rest of the leadership and, in short, her offer went from enthusiastic to tepid. All because of her conviction and belief that gay people need to be included in the “local church”. Her conviction gives me hope, and, in the same breath, their response has made me incredibly sad.

The church leaders obviously thought it would be disgusting for a lesbian to sit amongst them? Imagine a gay man, worshipping God? Not in this little Methodist Church. We allow the sinners whose sins we like in…

It’s ironic that her conviction that ‘practicing’ gay men and women having a place in the church had her lose the possibility of a job, when a few years ago her gender would have excluded her from even applying – based on biblical beliefs and the writings of Paul that women could not be leaders in a church. Inviting a woman to minister in a church is no longer a necessary part of the Bible to follow – in fact, just skip that part people – skip over it and go right to the part about those evil gay people… and if you see something on divorce, skip it too…

Exclusion should never be an option for the church which is evolving, in some spheres, emerging, and believes in a messiah who preached and lived almost nothing but inclusion. Ministers, like the one I’ve written about and authors like Graham Ingram, who try to find ways to build the bridge between these two groups should be applauded for their efforts to create discussion and dialogue. Without this, we’re two groups of people fighting each other over something that could show the world the real love of God. Gay men and women, while I understand their (our) frustration, need to realise that militancy will not win this, and the church’s vehement rejection will not either… discussion will help us see what we agree on, and let us work from there.

Because nothing… absolutely nothing can separate us from the love of God.

And that we agree on.

In the news…

It’s been quite a week – the Dalai Lama was rejected (but apologised for the furore) and the government picked money from China over peace. Barbara Hogan spoke out, then the government spoke out back – now we wonder if she’ll be around much longer. A COPE member defected back to the ANC after defecting from the ANC to join COPE, but COPE are fine with him leaving because he was a mole anyway. 702 cancelled a press conference about something of national importance because they realised it wasn’t of national importance. Instead it was about a COPE member defecting back to the ANC after defecting to COPE from the ANC.

More importantly… I went spinning last night.

It was a new man in front yelling orders at us and he played such fun music that I got totally caught up in it and bounced around on the bike like an old pro. I got home and almost immediately went to bed and this morning I have had to get around on crutches. Well, that’s hyperbole, but it’s how I feel. My legs are lame. I feel like I never slept and I’m craving food like a contestant on Survivor.

It’s that damn gay music. I just can’t help myself…

And the worst thing is that because I was sweating more than I ever have in my life, I now have an outbreak of acne. Seriously. Well, I have a pimple on my forehead. Surely being closer to 40 means I should, at least, not get those horrible things. Blegh

Annnnyywaaaayyy

The weekend ahead looks promising and busy. Have to go to a launch in Sandton tonight. The big drawcard, according to the invite, is that four of the SA Idols will be singing. That’s reason not to go. But I will go. Only because the shoes want to be shown off. They’ve been on cupboard rest for a while… but today they’re out in full force! The invite says to make a fashion statement – so I’m letting the shoes do that for me…

Then tomorrow is a bring and braai (which I’ll forgive because it’s being organised by one of my oldest, dearest friends)… then a big exclusive club is being launched in Braamfontein, so the shoes have been invited to that.

Sunday… is … Frank’s (mah man’s) … birthday!!! Yayayayayayay!

I love that it’s his birthday… for six months of this year I will only be slightly older than him, numerically speaking. So make sure you pop across to his blog to wish him a happy birthday.

And in other eventful Rambler news… have confirmed my December holiday – will be making a road trip to Mozambique with 11 other friends… totally excited, even though it’s 9 months away.

Rambler – over and out!

Parental guidance advised…

A colleague forwarded me a you tube video that has totally thrown me… Here I am in the middle of my busy day – made busier because I have to go to a restaurant launch in an hour and need to get everything done before I feast on nibbly bits – and I get this video.

I’m sitting at my desk, being all editor-in-charge and trying to look at everyone with a raised eyebrow – a look I’ve been trying to perfect since seeing The Devil Wears Prada. Really did love that movie by the way… Meryl Streep is pure genius, and since then I really have tried to say “that’s all” with my eyebrow raised in her clipped, superbitch kind of way…

PR person: Will you give us editorial in your magazine?

Rambler: Do I get free stuff?

PR person: yes

Rambler. Cool. That’s all…

Total bitch, hey…

Annnnnnnnnnyyywaaayyyyyy…

Here I am sitting with my eyebrow raised in case someone walks in, and I get this link to this old video on you tube. The blurb says it’s about a lion and a man and they’re friends because they’ve looked after it in captivity… then the lion gets released because it’s all okay now… then they go looking for the lion to make sure it’s okay or something… and the lion sees them… and looks warily while edging nearer… then realises who it is… and comes running…

Now, I hate animal movies… but I thought I’d have a break and watch it.

Sheesh, this thing should have come with a warning! You can’t send a sensitive gay man a clip like this and expect to him to maintain his composure. Blubbed the whole way through the damn thing… dammit… and, of course, they have to perfectly time Whitney to the whole damn thing for extra effect…

Watch if you think you can…

Obsessions continued…

Life is a mystery…. everyone must stand alone…

Now before you think I’m getting all profound (which wouldn’t be a first, okay) I’ll just quote Patsy from Ab Fab

“It’s Madonna darling… “

Every since I can remember I’ve been obsessed with her… (Madonna, not Patsy) … like posters on the wall obsessed, not dress like her obsessed… Thank goodness I never went that far. Imagine what I’d be wearing during her “Sex” book phase – and where would I find a toe to suck on at appropriate times??? I did have to dress like her once, for a fancy dress party. I wore a blonde extension and cone bra like she did in Blonde Ambition. The damn top kept riding up and I kept flashing nipple… so I felt completely like her…

Aaaaaaaaaaaannnyyyywaaaayyyy

I remember the first time I saw her on TV. It was her “Like a Virgin” song where she was dancing all sexy on the gondola’s and the guy wore a freaky lion’s head. I had no idea what a virgin was or is… I was a skinny kid remember… but I remember singing it with glee and even doing the odd writhe on the pool lilo. I think I even called the family to watch … and they were surprised when I announced I was gay!?!? C’mon people!! You could have made it so much easier for me…

Since then I’ve bought every album, seen every movie (you have to be a reeeeeeeeeeaaallll fan to sit through those clangers) and painstakingly learnt the moves to Vogue.

And more recently, I’ve moved onto a brighter, more concerning obsession. Even for me… (will always love you though Maddy… comment me sometime)..

You see, let’s be honest. I am closer to 40 than I am to 20, even though I feel like a teenager… well, after gym I feel like a 40 year-old, so I suppose it balances out. But I’m not so sure that my post-Madonna obsession is healthy for a geezer like me.

I was watching VH1 on Tuesday morning instead of getting ready for work. I find VH1 to be a very good companion to my new found dusting with the psychedelic pom-pom obsession. I was merrily dusting the hinges of the door when I heard the faint strains of my, what shall we call her, icon’s song play in the background. I had heard about the new video and when I realised it was on I literally dropped everything. Which is not a good thing as the duster catches the dust with its statically charged strands and dropping it releases all the dust…

annnnnnnnnnnnyyyywwwaaaaayyy

I sat watching the video, with my heart beating incredibly fast. I seriously was excited. It was like being told I was a finalist for the SA Blog Awards (*throws it in shamelessly*) for the first time ever… Now seeing that I’m closer to 40 than 20, I really shouldn’t be into teenage pop. Should I? Surely I’m meant to move on to more mature artists, like Yanni and the blind opera dude… Is it right that I bought a Hannah Montana CD so I could play “See you again” ad nauseum? (And no, she’s a fling, no obsession – obsession must be over a period of more than one year and one must follow her on twitter.)

Surely by now, I should be listening to Classic FM instead of stations that will give me my pop fix? Does my love of all things pop make me, can I say it, mutton parading as lamb?

I know you may not get her… but I just love her… and I proudly declare my obsession…

Time to reveal her to you…

Take it away Britney…

The engagement party

I spent the day with my family… we’re all celebrating the news that my sister is engaged. I’m excited for her. Also excited for me – he’s Greek (and no, he doesn’t own a cafe – as far as I know) so that means we’re going to have a kick ass engagement party and wedding. The Greeks demand that kind of stuff apparently. None of this bring and braai stuff (it’s so 80s and making an unfortunate comeback). The Greeks want a venue, they want nice Greek food (nibbly bits and lamb), they want an open bar (with whiskey) and they want to break plates.

Simple.

I’m keen. I like free booze, I like free food and I think I may like breaking plates. Being gay means I suck at throwing – I prove the nature debate (not a throwing bone in my body) – so I think I may be good at throwing plates. That requires no skill.

Or maybe it does.

What if it so happens I get to dance with all the Greek boys … let’s pause and enjoy that for a moment …

annnnnnnnnnnnnyyyyywaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyy…

Lets say I dance with all the Greek boys and I’m doing the squat down, get back up thing with a shot of whiskey on my head (its what they do apparently) and then it comes my turn to break the plate. What happens if I flamboyantly fling the plate down and it simply flings back up before settling in place all perfectly in tact.

What if I’m the chop who throws so badly that I may not even be able to break a plate? Why do I have the one gay gene (poor throwing gene – it exists I promise you) that may make me the laughing stock of the party. My sister will always remember her big pre-day as the one where brother showed he was the sister that can’t… break plates.

Picture it… I fling the plate in my can’t throw for crap like fashion. The plate flings back into my hand, unshattered, and asks if I was being serious. All the Greek boys stop yelling ‘oppah’… because nothing has ‘oppahed’… the music stops. The girls all gasp. And I’m left standing holding “plate-that-would-not-break”.

It’s every man’s worst nightmare…

I’ll end up not going to the wedding… and I’ll eat off the table from then on because every time I see a plate it will take me back to the time I couldn’t break the plate…

I’m seriously glad my sister is engaged, but not so sure I’m liking this Greek party idea…

A suggestion is to practice in the kitchen. Get a bit of a head start with my own crockery. Or I can feign illness, although I think that would have a worse consequence than getting the disgusted look from Greek men and women for the rest of my life.

Maybe I should dress in drag?

Obsessions

This morning I discovered a new obsession…

I was watching American Idol, which I’ll get to now and had to endure an infomercial in one of the ad breaks. It was for a fluffy duster that spins (with no cord!) and gets into all the places you never thought you’d be able to on your own…

ahem…

The one line said that it would even make dusting fun!


Now who am I not to have some dusting fun?? I never went as far as ordering one… yet… but I did remember that when I moved into FJ’s place I saw a lime (psychedelic) duster that looked like a pom-pom more than a cleaning tool. It apparently has things that create static and the dust just sticks to it until you shake them out at your leisure… Have I told you I’m not big on detail??? … so no need to explain how it really works.

Aaaaaaaaaaannnyyyywaaaayyyy….

I was thinking about dusting fun and looked up to spot a little spider making its webhome in the corner of the ceiling pelmets and decided that I would start the fun there…I whipped out duster-on-acid and, after giving it a shake to loosen it up, went to work on the web.

Needless to say I was late for work. I dusted the corners, the TV (which still wants to upgrade to being pretty, big and black), the outside plants and the dogs… Who would have thought that they were right… dusting can be fun!!!

As I rushed to get ready for work I saw them advertising a storage box which they said is a modern-day miracle… A miracle? Who am I to deny myself a miracle… I think there may be something in this infomercial business…

And back to American Idol… which I see FJ has blogged about today (shame, the poor man is exhausted so please pop by to send him some encouragement, or a red bull, your call)…

AI is my other obsession… Now you all know I have this reality TV thing… which some don’t understand… and your lack of understanding I don’t understand… how can you not like watching people make tits of themselves on TV, and enjoy those brief moments when some shine… like when Rob and Amber got kicked off the Amazing Race…. moments of joy like that can never be dreamed up…

Annnnnnnnnnnnnyyywaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyy..

American Idol is fantastic – so well edited and thought out, and the talent is so good… they really shouldn’t put it on at the same time as we’re having ours – it shows just how KAK (the only word I can think of) our version is – low budget, cheap gimmicks, unintelligent adjudication and badly slapped together.

In true Rambler style I have googled ahead to see who is still in the Top 10 of AI (well, they’re at Top 11 in the States and we’re watching two shows a night so we have the final at the same time) … and see the man I think I may support is still there… Do you want me to tell you… I won’t… I will reveal as we go… but let’s just say that I’m pretty blown away by his voice, his dress sense (I wish I could pull off a hairstyle like that…) and his style… So he will be my new Idols obsession… if the people in America do not vote for him then I will organise for Bush to go back to the presidency because they don’t deserve forward thinkers like Obama…

Yes, Idols does rule the world…

Annnnnnnnnnnnnnnnyyyywaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyy…

I think I’ve more than made up for my bullet blogs of late… this weekend will be spent watching Project Runway, watching FJ sleep and dusting…

Ah, the good life…