guiltless sleeping pirate dog

Last week was not my favorite week ever, and has actually earned rank as one of the worst. So, as I went to bed last night I decided that I could safely assume that this week would have to be better. This seemed to be undoubtedly obvious. And so, even though I caught less than a few hours of sleep, spending most of the night and early morning staring at the ceiling, only to remember that I had a dentist appointment early this morning, only to drive a car that started smoking on the highway, only to find out that one poor tooth needs a bit of pricey help, only to come home and find my little shit of a dog, the Seal, who I love more than any four-legged creature on earth, had ransacked the place.

The point is, it is only 1:30 p.m. on a Monday and today has already been a little rough, but in the fresh wake of perspective, I have to say, I wouldn’t trade a minute of it. Not one. I am not very sure how (or if ) I will get the large smeared gobs of apple pie goo out of the carpet, but again, how lucky am I to have such simple concerns.

In case you aren’t totally sure what you are looking at here, today’s booty includes:

• one large yellow onion
• one empty pie plate that, earlier this morning was hosting a delicious apple pie
• fresh ginger (which is good for digestion, clearly she knows this)
• delicious goat cheese wrapper (in the pie plate, she is tidy like that)
• one box of unopened shower curtain rings
• a plastic dough rolling mat (now complete with ventilation holes in the form of chew marks)
• one faggy rainbow coffee mug (the coffee is all over the blanket, so you can’t see that part)
• one guiltless sleeping pirate dog

(As soon I finished typing the word ”dog’, just this second, she sat up, looked at me and burped. Nice touch, Seal pup. Way to finesse it all.)

Happy Monday.

 

 

 

soft spot

I thought FOR SURE this photo was somewhere on this blog but I just went digging around and can’t seem to find it. This one is for Jen. As you can read on her blog, quite recently and unexpectedly she lost her best buddy. And if I can have this hard of a time even typing about a dog I didn’t know, from this far away, I can’t imagine what Jen’s heart is going through. I have been showering the Seal with even more love and attention this week, for Gracie, who might be the only dog ever, to have an even bigger smile than the Seal.

May the world be nothing but gentle and kind to you, Jen. Take care of yourself,

jj

tour of fabulous: final credits

(In order to preserve and maintain the high level of faggy queerness that I have very intentionally injected into this series, please click on the video below and count to fifteen before reading the final credits – it is just so gay and perfect that way, trust me.)

.          .          .           .           .

…And like every adventure that ever was, eventually there is – The End -

.          .          .          .          .

Tour of Fabulous: Final Credits (in order of appearance):

Part 1:

The oh so amazing and lovely, long time leading lady: Violet

My four legged shadow: the Seal

The reason I didn’t miss my flight: The SeaTac TSA lady that kind of hated me

Red backpack: As itself

Best hair product in the world: Not telling

Part 2:

Sexy smooth dude/ Ol’ school best buddy: Sinclair Sexsmith

Sweet girl that put up with Sin and me all week: Kristen

Partner in many a late night crimes, one of my very favorites, Park Slope pool survivor: Mikey

Crowd of fabulous on Friday night: Everyone that did not try to beat me up

Pool shark: Barb

Pool shark’s drunk friend: Suz

Part 3:

Very cool dude who threw an awesome party: JessHeIs

Lady who hypnotized me with her eyes and then fed me breakfast: Tina-cous

Snazziest dressed (by a long shot) at Jess’ party: Dr. Leo MacCool

Wonderful, sweet new friend willing to talk with me all night long: Freedomgirl

Doppelganger-Shane from the L-word: the DJ at Jess’ party

Part 4:

Lovely girl behind those green eyes: greg

greg’s dress: As itself

New long distance bff: greg’s girlfriend

.          .          .          .          .

TOF Director: Sinclair Sexsmith

TOF Producer: jesse james

TOF Executive Producer: the Seal

TOF Editor: Fraidy Phat the Fish

TOF Fact Verifier: Marcus the Raccoon

“Tour of Fabulous” Title Credit and Most Missed Blogger: Lady Brett

Onset Chef and Makeup Artist: Kristen

Windsor Tie Knot Maker and Hair Validator to jesse james: Sinclair Sexsmith

Cherday Sponsor: Thursday

(endless) Support Crew: Violet

Best Boy Grip: That’s what she said

*A special thanks to Sinclair Sexsmith, one of my very favorite people on earth, for putting me up and putting up with me for a week. You are a host with the most and one of my favorite ways to spend my time. And to all of you along this amazing vacation adventure, thank you for being so kind and wonderful and welcoming. I am very lucky to have met you and to have you all in my world. And thank you all for getting through all four parts with no one screaming “LIAR! I can’t believe you just said that about me!”

I very much look forward to TOF: The Sequel.

with love, of course,

jesse james

watching fall begin to fall

Violet and jesse, chapter 4, page 1.

Violetta,

As I tuck in the newest netflix under my arm, ready to watch a two hour documentary on African elephants. As I grab my glass of wine and the Seal’s favorite toy. As the Seal rushes ahead of me on the stairwell, spilling most of my wine, almost knocking me down. As I make my way up the stairs and on to our couch, where you are already camped out, without complaint at yet another documentary about African elephants. As I sit there with a tummy full of food that you and I have grown together, watered together, tended together, picked together and cooked together. As I sit there already wishing for dessert, right when you say, “Hey, what if I made some hot fudge for that bit of ice cream we have left?” As I put the movie on pause and watch you sail down the stairs like a sugarplum fairy, hair flying behind you, and that smile of yours that only a dessert can create. As I sit there sipping what is left of the wine that the Seal just made me spill, while she circles around and around and around on the couch making her fake little nest, as she plops down and grunts, like she does, and rests her heavy head on my lap. As I sit there and stare at the map of the world on our wall. As I am in awe again, like I am each time I look at the amount of ocean that use to sit between us. As I stare at that ocean and hear you clink and clank pots and pans in the kitchen, not even 40 feet away. As you holler up to me, “Almost ready! Do you want me to make you one or do you want to do it?” As I realize how wonderful and fun everything is right now, as it tends to be these days, more than not. As I say back, “You do it. I’ll love it… and promise to keep it to myself if I don’t.” As you run back up the stairs with two bowls of ice cream covered in freshly made hot fudge and that oh so proud smile. As I go to take a bite. As the damn dog takes a big lick of the corner of my spoon. As you wince and I say, “You know I’ll still eat off of this.” As you remind me, once again, of all the gross things that the Seal has licked that is now most likely on the spoon I am about to use.

As I sit here and eat ice cream with the hot fudge you just made, with a spoon that has just been licked by our dog , while I push play and we watch a sunrise in Africa and the narrator begins to talk. As you tuck into my arm, covering the half of me and my lap that the Seal hasn’t claimed. As I sit here right now, with you, and now the Seal too, I want to say thank you for the last four years. You make everything worth it.

love,

jesse

with all of my new spare thyme

How to make something for your girlfriend that includes:  getting to be outside, playing in the dirt, getting to dig holes, requiring no more help than a Seal or misc. domestic animal can offer, hammering (you really don’t need to do this, but it can be worked in if you really want to) and ending up with something green, growing and tasty.

This is the herb garden I built for Violet while she was out of town a few weeks ago:

First, I followed where the sun hit our yard for a day and found this little section to be the sunniest.

You can’t really tell, but I dug down and turned the dirt (soil, if you will) about a foot and a half deep.

Found some scrap wood and built a simple frame (do not use pressurized wood for food garden beds- the chemicals in the wood will leach and you don’t want to eat that stuff). I also bought a bag of chicken poop to amend the soil a bit. Food loves to grow in chicken poop and chicken poop loves to help food grow. The Seal is totally bored.

Added herbs, watered em’ and voila.

About a month later:

(Want to build one or something similar and have questions? Just email me and I’ll help you out where I can.)

one year with the seal

This post is late. I am a terrible blogger these days. 1. It is too sunny to stare at a computer. 2. My computer got a nasty little worm and was at the computer doctor for a week. 3. I have been in and out of town and away from the internet for a lot of reasons.

Tomorrow Violet, the Seal and I are going to the San Juan islands for a long weekend. We went to the same spot about a year ago after having the Seal in our lives for only a few weeks. At that point I know the Seal  must have been worried that she went from doggy-jail to cushy-new-lezbo-home to stuck-in-the-woods-homeless-with-a-couple-of-strange-homos all in a few weeks.

But after a year of being treated like a dog-queen (being the dog queen that she is) I assume the Seal will be more at ease this time, understanding that this is just a short jaunt to get out of dodge and play outdoors without having to wipe your paws before coming indoors for a few days.

Anyway, here are a few of my favorites of our new queen over the last year (that haven’t already been posted):

hands down

Last night I saw Mary Oliver read and speak. Listening to her made me remember a different kind of breathing and that I should never leave the house without a pen. Ever. And if someone asked me today, if I could invite anyone in the world, living or not, to a dinner party, who would it be? Mary O. Hands down.

One of my all time favorites:

Little Dog’s Rhapsody in the Night (Percy Three)

by Mary Oliver

He puts his cheek against mine
and makes small, expressive sounds.
And when I’m awake, or awake enough

he turns upside down, his four paws
in the air
and his eyes dark and fervent.

Tell me you love me, he says.

Tell me again.

Could there be a sweeter arrangement?
Over and over
he gets to ask it.
I get to tell.

last tulip standing

Having recently been laid off, having more time on my hands, and with spring sprung and creeping into summer the Seal and I have been outside, out and about, for most of our day, more than not.

This morning the Seal and I went for a long walk, like we do. The lilacs are fully bloomed and just beginning to drop. The Seal and I both love to smell them in huge, dramatic inhales and stop frequently to do so. The tulips are all spent, give or take a few late bloomers, the blue bells are standing and tired, the daffodils are weeks gone and the rhododendron are all tightly budded, ready to explode at any given moment . The cherry blossoms make it look like it snowed pink last night, but only in very particular patches.

On our walk this morning the Seal had a blossom stick to the top of her nose and after shaking her head a few times with no relief she just walked on, crossing her eyes every once in a while to focus on it. I thought it looked cute and springy and let the decoration stay until it finally fell several blocks later.

There is this older woman, 75 maybe, that lives in the neighborhood. Margaret is her name. She is always out walking with her dog. Always. It is almost impossible to stray more than a few blocks from home without passing by her. I use to catch her at my bus stop, sitting outside the bagel shop, sipping coffee and giving every other bite of her bagel to Thomas, her rolly polly little wiener dog.

Thomas has several outfits, depending on the weather, of course. He mostly sports either his blue sweater for cold, dry days or a little yellow raincoat for the rainy days. If my jacket style is similar to what Thomas is wearing I know I have properly prepared. She and I have always said hello in passing. Some days are chattier than other, like during the election, she would go on and on about how its “plenty time to let this Obama kid get going and get things going right for a change!” She is clearly quite intelligent, well spoken, progressive and very sweet and it always cracks a smile onto my face when I see her and her little fat dog walking around together.

I haven’t seen Margaret or Thomas around in months and I have thought about this a lot. I have been curious and worried with obvious suspicions but haven’t figured out how to go about finding anything out.

So, the Seal and i were out this morning, for a nice long stroll when all of a sudden, a block and a half a head of us i saw what appeared to be an older person walking what appeared to be Thomas in his little blue sweater.They were crossing the street and turning a corner and I had seconds before they would be out of site so I yelled, “That isn’t Thomas by any chance, is it?” as I began to jog towards them. A voice, not Margaret’s, said back, “This little weeny here? Ya, thats him. Who’s askin?”

My stomach sank a bit as I was jogging over, to find out about Margaret. As I got closer I could see this old man, clearly not Margaret. He had slicked back white hair, snow-white side burns, the most typical gray old-man-pants with the most typical brown leather old man shoes, a green button down collared shirt with a big blue postal jacket, a tough-guy posture, leaned up against a fence, holding the leash of that fat little rolly polly wiener dog, Thomas, that the Seal and I were oh so happy to see.

“Hi there,” I said. “My name is Jesse. Sorry to chase you down a street but I just haven’t seen Thomas or Margaret in some time.” And then I just went for it, “Is Margaret ok?”

And as soon as this old man opened his mouth and said, “Damn near died I tell you. Goddamn doctors are only human but if I hadn’t raised em’ some hell over there, well then, who knows. Nearly killed her liver with some goddamn medicine that she didn’t even need, I tell you what, I’ve had it with those damn doctors. Think they’re god but dumb as bricks, some of ‘em” I realized that this old man was an old woman. This old man was Margaret’s partner.

I smiled big and said, “But she is ok. Man, that is great to hear.”

“Of course she’s ok. They all think she’s just this sweet old lady. Well, that’s cause she is. But I ain’t.” and she laughed big, holding her belly.

We talked for a while, well she did the talking, like a grumpy old man, complaining on and on about everything from how the damned winter killed all the rosemary around here: “In all my life of living here, when in the hell have I ever had to pay for rosemary at the store? Now I’m buying the stuff from California. Damn snow took ‘em all out.” To complaining about the roundabouts at the end of all of our streets: “If your car is too big for ya, well, shame on you for it. But if it ain’t, cause you need it, like my 4×4 pickup truck, well, now, you try to get that son of a bitch around that damn circle. Try it. Gonna run up the side every time, so what good is that? Don’t slow me down none either, just pisses me off.”

I stood there listening, agreeing with everything regardless, and marveled at what an amazingly beautiful and masculine person Margaret’s partner was (I never got her name but she mentioned that they had lived in their house for more than 30 years together). And how relieved I was that Margaret was ok. And how happy I was that she had someone looking after her, taking care of her. How lucky I am to be right where I am, right now.

We said goodbye and as the Seal and I walked off I heard, “Come on, you little weeny. Let’s go now.” A few seconds later I turned around and saw Margaret’s partner bent over, picking one of the last tulips standing and I realized that bringing your girl a flower never gets old.

when that strange, warm, shiney thing figures out how to filter through

This is what it looks like to take a random day off in the week on one of those rare seattle spring days when it isn’t raining, snowing, windy or totally freezing:

Remember when I said this blog would not turn into post after post of the Seal? I’m trying folks… I am.