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

fraidy phat the fish n the gang get ready to chill

As fall begins to fall here, quite suddenly I might add, Fraidy Phat the Fish and his new gang are slowing down quite a bit. The pond water tempature has dropped suddenly which signals Fraidy to start getting winter ready. He’s moving much slower and is eating twice as much. He’s like a bear-fish getting ready to hibernate.

This will be the gangs’ first winter and although they are all full grown goldfish now the winter tempatures can go on and on and on here making it hard for a greenhorn pond fish to make it.

I love these fish (a bit more than what some may see as “healthy”) and am doing my best to help them prepare.

I’m feeding them fishfood everyday now, turning on the little pond fountain daily and cleaning out the leaves and things at least once a day. I even made a pond canapy to keep the falling leaves out. I’m also hoping at some point Fraidy will tell them what to do when times get winter-hard: swim to the bottom, stay really really still and wait until it’s warm again.

Seems simple enough but I’m guessing their little fish brains aren’t even the size of a piece of lint and so I’m banking their chance of survival on instinct rather than reason. But what kind of instict does a little petstore-bred goldfish have? This is my concern and this is why year after year when the spring springs Fraidy is the only one left standing… or swimming in this case.

I have at least another month to fatten them up but then they’ll be on their own. All I can do at that point is wish them luck and hope to see them sometime in March.

I was talking to my godmother, Ruth, about the fish and she said she didn’t realize Fraidy was so much bigger than the rest. I guess I’ve never made that clear so I took a few photos for her and am posting them here too.

The fish gang are all the size of your average goldfish and as you can see, my man Fraidy is the super sized king of his pond castle.

catching up with (cyber) you

I have so much I could write about that it has actually kept me from writing anything at all. Well, that and I have the flu.

• Can you imagine how much Cher Thursday I have to catch up on?!? Cher in a musical with Christina (thanks greg.. and what!what!squared!) Chastity now Chaz! This is some big news and all of it quite exciting.

• I saw Marcus for the first time in 8 months a few nights ago. He is easy to pick out being tailless, and he is bigger and fluffier than ever. It made my heart swell to see him so healthy and as happy as a raccoon can present himself. He strut (is ’strut’ the past tense for ’strut’? Strutted? Strought? This fever is getting me) through our back yard at dusk like a man on a mission, huffing like a big ol’ tough guy. It was great to see. He even stopped to pee on his (and now the Seal’s) favorite tree to pee on.

• Fraidy has 5 new fish friends that Violet paid way too much for at a charity auction. I will get some photos up soon and see if you all have any name suggestions. So far there is Goldy and Lox but three no names and I could use some help with that.

• Zoe’s mom passed away about a week ago and I have no idea what to say about that yet, if ever. Not sure I will say anything but that it has been hard. Really hard. For a lot of people.

• I was in MiddleofNowhere California last week and after a few drinks at a motel bar I ended up on stage singing happy birhday to a woman that I had known for all of 5 hours. Her speaking voice sounded just like Dolly Parton and I just couldn’t get enough of her. (Yes, I kicked in a little of my best Cher towards the end). That was a good time… until the next day.

• It is pride weekend and Violet has never been to one before. She asked me what I was going to dress up as and I replied, “Um, me.” She then asked how to register to be a dyke on a bike. I explained that the bike in this situation is not actually the kind of bike she has but that motorcycle doesn’t rhyme with dyke, hence the slogan’s usage of the word ‘bike’. She was fairly disappointed but went right back to the ‘well then, what costumes should we wear?’ conversation. Um, seriously. No.

• Last night I met a woman that is a veterinarian… for elephants. ELEPHANTS. Ummmm yes, what you just read is correct. I am totally infatuated with this woman’s career at present and am scheming up ways to try and make her think I am half as cool as she so that maybe we can hang out again. My  two very favorite animals on earth ever (besides the Seal) are elephants and octopi. I could go on and on… and on about this, like I did last night with the rad elephant vet lady, but I wont here. Right now at least.

• At present, like I mentioned, I have the flu (ah! that is why this post is so flat and without personality, you say? Yes. That is why.) and I am hoping to find enough energy to participate in the gay weekend with mild flare at least, sans costume. I will let you know.

The catch-up-with-my-blog-list goes on and on, but as this flu has zapped my ability to sound even remotely interesting, I will leave it like this for now.

Happy gay Friday.

blog vacation virgin

I’m a few hours away from leaving for my vacation with Ruth. I have made the bold choice to go on this vacation sans computer. I want to see what time away from staring at this screen may or may not do for my soul (is it really sucking it out or does it just feel that way? We shall see). Not to say I won’t jump at the chance if there happens to be free internet somewhere along the way. But, in case there isn’t, and I am internet-sober for this entire trip, you may not hear anything from me for a week or so.

This also means that the staff here at jljj is off the hook for a bit too. Violet, Fraidy, Marcus and the Seal can all rest assured that any and all follies, cute gesture, slip ups, and pooping of clothing will go undocumented for a brief bit of time. Is this to their relief or less reason to get up in the morning? They will have to figure that out and let me know. Regardless, I will be back soon and will promptly begin to overly observe and document my little family… and then, I’ll blog about it all… like I do.

And just remember, although Thursday may come and go a few times, Cher loves you.

the fish knows everything

Dooce is good. I get Heather. And if I have my way this weekend my two free days will be packed full of lazy lying around in the backyard, catching up with Fraidy.

He is a good friend, and not just for a fish, but in general. He’s a great listener.

I’m starting to realize that the ears hear but they’re not what listen. Which is a good thing for Fraidy and me. (Do fish have ears? Huh. Even if they do, which they must, right?, that’s not how Fraidy listens.) I feel it. I know it. And he always responds accordingly: If I’m bored he shows off for me. If I’m tired he just chills out with me. If I’m telling him things he paces slowly, back and forth, taking it all in, swimming to the top every once in a while to offer eye contact, as if to say, “Huh. Very interesting, jesse! And how did that make you feel?” And then I tell him and he continues to swim slowly, around and around… and around.
Listening.

(this is what Friady looks like when he's listening)

And I listen. I know he doesn’t like it when I scatter fish flakes just any ol’ place. He prefers that I sprinkle them in delicately, on the far left side, where the reeds are. He feels less vulnerable there and the flakes float longer when I am gentle, which he likes. He would prefer that I clean out the debris as often as possible, and I do. It annoys him when he mistakes a cherry blossom for flakes. He spits them out with such a scowl. It’s the closest he’s come to raising his voice at me. He doesn’t mind the Seal, but this doesn’t mean he likes her. The distinction is obvious… and important. Is he jealous? Maybe. But unless he feels like elaborating his reasons are his own. None the less, I get it. I make sure to go out there without her sometimes for a little jesse/Fraidy time, which we both appreciate now and then.

And the fact that we trust each other is mutually obvious. He has watched other fish in that pond learn hard, hard lessons for swimming to the top. I mean, sometimes the decision to swim to the top is a life and death decision. And Fraidy got his name because he hid from me for so long. That’s why he’s still around. He doesn’t just swim to the top for any ol’ shiny thing that might be food but could be a raccoon paw. What we have is a slow and authentic building of trust.

(hiding in the reeds)

And now, there’s something about me that he recognizes and trusts, and vice versa. Regardless of whether I come baring fish flakes or not, when he sees me he immediately swims to the top and gives the top of the water a few little fish kisses, like his fish version of the French bisou, and then starts to flip flop around like an excited puppy, happy to see me.

There is no doubt with him because I have given him none, and none with me for that same reason. I can’t explain it, nor can he (because he is a fish. And although I am not sure about fish ears, I am sure of their inability to speak in a way that humans could literally understand. If that changes I will surly let you know and I will also be rich and famous when I do).

The fish gets it and I appreciate that more than his little fish flake sized brain might ever understand. So, I ramble on and on… and on, while he swims around and around… and around. And this how we roll (swim, ramble) and this is all we need.

RIP fraidy phat the fish (for a minute)

My routine with Fraidy has been much the same every day, including weekends. Only now it involves Fraidy, dog and me. And on the weekends I switch things up a bit and go out to see him right after I’ve made myself a cup of coffee.

I grab the mug, the fish flakes and dog and I go out to the back yard. I clean the pond with a net, which gets Fraidy all worked up, dog watches Fraidy flip around, which makes dog’s ears perk up and flip around, I toss in some flakes and watch the fish-shark hunt his flakes.

This Saturday, I woke up a little earlier than usual, made my jo and out to the pond we went. There is a little wire fence around the pond that becomes electric at night so that Marcus and his crew cannot go midnight skinny dipping. This fence has obviously worked… until this Saturday. Dog and I stood over what was an unusually still and clear pond and could see all the way to the bottom. I looked around, which is not much to look around at and saw no fish. I panicked for a second and continued to look under the few hiding places – poked the net around and no fish flipped.

No fish.

I panicked even more. I looked around and noticed that part of the wire fence had been knocked down and it looked as though someone (Marcus?) had made a little ruckus around where the fence had been knocked down. My disbelief admitted to my brain that Fraidy had been found… and potentially eaten. My heart and the plastic can of fish flakes fell to the ground. I looked at dog and asked, “Where’s Friady!?! Huh?!?!” She galloped around the yard, nose to the ground and looked everywhere, including under the deck, which made me wonder if Marcus was under there sleeping with fish on his breath.

I stared at the pond for what seemed like too long before I just started to chant, in a whisper, “He’s gone. Fraidy’s gone!”

I went inside and immediately Violet asked why the long face. I told her. Her first reaction was light hearted denial. “No, he’s just hiding. That’s what he does.” I told her I looked everywhere, which wasn’t a whole lot of anywhere to look and he just wasn’t there.

I got on with my day as best as I could. Every few thoughts or so my brain would say, “Your fish is gone! Is he really gone?… Knock it off, he’s just a fish.”

My heart hurt. It really really hurt. He was such a good guy. And although I’ve battled with whether or not Fraidy gave a shit about me or not, he did. He really did. When I would come out there he immediately swam to the surface and smiled at me. I know you’re wondering if a fish can smile and I’ll tell you, right here, right now, yes, they can.

So, my day went as it did. Violet and I, ironically enough, went out for sushi that night and it was a wonderful date. I tried to get him out of my head over a few shots of sake but as soon as we got home dog and I ran back outside to stare into the still, lifeless pond… and… there he was. That little shit of a fish was just swimming around like, “Oh hey Jesse, wassup with you? Nice weather we’re having, huh?”

Jerk.

And thank the fishgods.

furiously fraidy and 2 cheap puns

A general, choppy, update on life:

Violet has a ton of work stuff going on, my job has been slammed with real work to do and Violet’s parents are coming into town this weekend. So, I have been spending my time doing actual work stuff (instead of blogging), helping Violet with some of her work stuff, and preparing the house for parents, which we all know means hiding some things and digging out other things to put on display as if they are always there.

Spring is very springy and I am ready for summer.

I haven’t seen Marcus and am assuming it’s because he is a healthy raccoon with hurt feelings and has a grudge against our lack of edible garbage (we compost almost everything worth scavenging. He’s smart enough, he’ll catch on eventually.)

Fraidy is the raddest fish that has ever lived and we have developed a cool little routine that goes:

I go out to see him as soon as I get home every evening. I scoop out the never ending fallen cherry blossoms with a net. He gets all flippy-floppy trying to dodge the net, inevitably working up an appetite. I sprinkle in some fish food flakes in the same place every time, wiggle my finger in the water where the food is, which is his food-cue that he quickly caught on to. He dives to the bottom and acts all coy (yes, bad pun, and he is actually just a remarkably beautiful goldfish). At first he is very methodical, like a hungry shark, attacking one piece of food and then diving back to the bottom. Eventually, he starts swimming around more furiously, striking at several pieces in a row until he just starts striking at anything and everything. Every once in a while he gets a cherry blossom or a little piece of moss and then shoots it back out with force and with this grumpy fish face like I tricked him or something. I watch, laugh, and then go inside to recount the whole scene to Violet.

She’s not terribly willing to have long conversations about our goldfish but she is sweet about it and listens.

I will up my blogness frequency again soon. But for today, that’s the news from lake Woebegone… or Washington, I guess… where the women are strong, the raccoons are good looking, and the fish are above average.

Also, as we all know, Thursday is Cherday. If you have any great Cher-ness, do cher. You can send anything and everything Cher to jessejamesblog@gmail.com
Thanks.
jj

fraidy phat the fish

This is Fraidy. Fraidy Phat the Fish. It’s not the clearest picture but that’s because when the sun is out he is cruising all over his pond at warp speed, making a clear fish shot hard to catch.

A few Saturday’s ago, while Violet was gone, I set up camp right next to the pond with a book, some coffee, and nothing to do but sit in the sun with my fish. I hadn’t seen much of Fraidy until then. I thought he was just really shy and afraid of being seen (hence the name). But as it should turn out he’s cold blooded, just like all of the other fish in the world, and so during the winter season all he’s really doing is hanging out at the bottom of the pond, freezing his little fish balls off, trying to stay… not frozen.

But now that spring has sprung, Fraidy is a fire-fast, fat and happy, flippy little fish. A cute little red head, as you can see, with a ring of red around his lips as well (I’ll do what i can to get a picture of that). I have grown to love him rather quickly and pretty seriously. And now that he actually does stuff you can count on regular fish updates- meaning, if the fish, the raccoon, the girlfriend, and/or Cher bore you, you will most likely lose interest in my life.