Gay Sex, Anyone?

Last night I finally saw Milk, and although I could not find any sign of my friends or myself in the crowd scenes, it was a really good movie. I feel grateful to Gus Van Sant for making an educational mainstream film with political content. Way to rep us proud, homo.

Participating as an extra was anti-climaxtic and made me dubious about the final product. I just wasn't that jazzed standing in the cold watching Sean Penn call the gay to action with his silly little haircut. But the weasel was mistaken dear friends, because Sean is freaking amazing as Harvey Milk. Seriously. Does anyone remember when he dated Madonna and beat up reporters? I totally thought he was a major meat head. Then came his intense performance in Dead Man Walking, but I was willing to chalk that up to luck until he directed Into the Wild. When I heard his little buddy, Emil Hersh, had been cast in Milk I knew they had a special connection, and thought that perhaps Sean and I could too. It's official as of last night, Sean Penn is my boy. And he and Emil Hersh are in man love (I am in bisexual love with James Franco, but that's another story).

Milk made me grateful to all the rad activists who went before me, and showed so much bravery and grace in the face of violent ignorance. It also made me proud of my human rights work continuing the legacy. I'm still happy that Obama won: let's end the f*ing war in Iraq, save the economy and the environment by creating green jobs, and then we can get back to advancing the homosexual agenda. I would prefer to achieve this aim through feminist means rather than marriage (they don't jive for me so much), but Prop 8 totally means fight back. I look forward to seeing you all in the streets, or the bedroom.

Force of Nature

To celebrate the first snow storm of the season I crashed my mom's car into a railing yesterday taking the dog to the park for a walk. We are both fine, and I got out some frustration by doing a lot of shoveling last night. My mom has a really long driveway so she bought a snow blower. Today I broke the door frame of the garage trying to put the blower back in. Has anyone tried to use one of those before? They weight like 60lbs, it's a good workout, but I feel like a crazy force of destruction. Good-bye xmas $$.

Hurrah

I did it. I made it through finals without going totally bonkers and my reading last night went really well. I wouldn't have made it through without the comedic relief provided by Andy Samberg. So to celebrate, I offer you this:

Chingedy Ching (Hee Haw, Hee Haw)

I just took a break from finals to make risotto primavera and though it was my first time, it came out amazing. If you try to make risotto, I recommend dancing around the kitchen to the Dominick The Italian Christmas Donkey song while doing it. I think the joy of the simple folk music infused the food with extra deliciousness.



Also, doesn't the mustachio guy look like a cute Italian tranny from Brook-a-lyn?

Dreidel I Will Play

We always do it the kosher cowboy way in Brookline!



For those of you who don't know, though I love to talk about it incessantly, every year the Kort family throws the most bitchin Chanukkah party. This YouTube link was part of the 2008 invite, so I know it's going to be a gay olde Jewish time!

A Long Winters Nap

Today is the first snow of the year--hurray! It's just a light powdering which my mom informed me wasn't nothing but it feels all nice and cozy inside. I have instituted a no TV policy until finals are over so both my mom and cousin are upstairs. Everyone has been sick and drinking off a large vat of wellness tea I made. I have been sleeping 12 hours a night which seems to be keeping me well. I can't wait until this week is over and I'm finally free. Look for me on Friday doing cartwheels in the Commons after my reading.

11 in 5

For my short fiction final, I have 11 papers due on Monday. I've written most of them but need to revise all and I think I'm getting carpal tunnel. Perhaps I should ask for a massage for x-mas.

Brokeback Backlash?

Last week during a class discussion of Annie Proulx, I took the opportunity to read the following response paper on Brokeback Mountain (see below). Last night, when a student who was absent asked what she had missed people told her gay stuff, lots of gay stuff. Then they went on to say how being gay is cool and hip and everyone is doing it. It was all for my benefit and maybe funny for a second (maybe?), and then I finally told them to stop being ignorant. For those of you at home dying to know how I spend my time, here is the gay manifesto (not) that took over the entire four hour class and started a week ling riot in the brains of my classmates:


November 23, 2008
Laura Campagna
Reading Experience
Brokeback Mountain
I Wish I Could Quit You, Annie Proulx

Gay and transgender characters of the page or silver screen have a tendency to be murdered. When Brokeback Mountain came out, some of the queer community critiqued the wholesale embrace and public lauding of a story in which the gay protagonists end up lonely and miserable or dead. “This is progress?” people asked. 'No,' I thought, 'This is America.' When I told my friends I was reading Brokeback Mountain for class, several people asked me how Jack really dies. There was ambiguity in the film, was it a hate crime or an accident? I had read the story before, but honestly couldn't remember. I was in the accident camp; Ennis needed to believe it was murder because that was the only way he could live with the choice he had made. The choice to live without love. “I hear it's really clear in the book,” my friend said. But I've just finished the story for the second time, and it's still not clear to me. Is it my own stubbornness? Maybe I've had enough of real and fictionalized queer people dying in the Mid-West stories. I'll take the unlucky accident, thank you very much.

What is really going on? Is it just another slight of hand by Anne Proulx whose abstruse and precise writing I love to hate? The story is told in the third person and the tire iron theory is exclusively Ennis' nightmare. According to the information provided by Jack's wife, Lureen, he was killed while changing a tire on a back road. That situation does sound a little fishy, but how would the murders fake a tire explosion? The narrator gives us no reason to suspect she's lying about that detail. Ennis feels her voice is cold, but that could have been his own projected guilt. When Lureen tells Ennis that Jack drowned in his own blood he thinks to himself that they got him with the tire iron. He goes to visit Jack's family and his dad tells him that Jack was always promising to bring Ennis up to the ranch, but after their fight he started talking about a new fella. The information about someone else in Texas confirms to Ennis that it was the tire iron. However, that sentence read as free indirect discourse to me, more like the narrator reporting on Ennis' thoughts rather than a fact of the story. In the final section, we are told that Jack appears to Ennis in dreams; young as they were on Brokeback Mountain and sometimes eating a can of beans with a spoon. That the spoon handle morphs into a tire iron could be seen as further proof of the murder or just a haunting part of the dream.

I think Proulx leaves it deliberately vague because in the last sentence we are told that: “there was an open space between what he knew and what he tried to believe...” What Ennis knows is that Jack is dead and that men get killed for living with other men. He believes in the tire iron, but whether this is PTSD paranoia or what he tells says to be able to sleep at night, we'll never know. It's like trying to fetter out the happening truth of a fictionalized story when I think its clear that Proulx is much more interested in story truth. By refusing to confirm for the reader, she leaves space for Ennis' emotional truth to live which I think O'Brien would approve of. In the end, it doesn't matter how Jack actually died because the threat was real for Ennis, so Proulx makes sure we know how it feels to live with those consequences.

Racism Is Over!

If you want it.


http://racismisover.blogspot.com/

silence, please

It's hard sharing the library with undergraduates, they test my patience. It's like being in the middle of 8000 conversations at once, none of which I feel comfortable responding to directly.

Overheard

Gay Boy: I haven't eaten any solid food today, so I bought myself a muffin. Sometimes I go a week and then realize all I've eaten the whole week is a bagel.

Straight Girl: I know, like half a bagel. Ha, ha, ha.

Dear youngsters, please don't discuss your eating disorders so loudly when your sitting next to me. I'm trying to write a paper and find your problems distracting and depressing. Please go to the counseling center and talk to one of the therapists. Also, a muffin from Dunkin Donuts is not a good dinner, it's just not.

Stop With the Abuse

My professor warned us that we were going to be getting into some "dark" territory. Last night I reread Brokeback Mountain for class and it upset me so much I just had to lie there for a half an hour and feel sad. Child abuse and molestation has been another theme running through the assigned stories lately too. It's hard to finish my homework when I keep feeling like a knife is piercing my heart with every word.

Subbing: A Cruel Mistress

The morning is the easy part, except for waking up, that is excruciating, like being ripped from the womb. But after some tea, things get a lot better. After lunch, they get worse. I yell at children, like really yell. Raise my voice and shout BE QUIET. This quiets them a little, but not much. My throat starts to hurt. I forgot my whistle and there are no extras. Stupid public school.

There are signs all over that say 'Calm Bodies, Calm Minds.' I feel philosophically against these signs until three children get injured in 15 minutes. Then I wonder if a law suit is in my future. A girl breaks her shell necklace and is inconsolable.

I decide to make the diabetic boy from New Zealand the shark in sharks and minnows to boost his self-esteem. Then I wonder if one of the kids will bump into the drip pouch attached to his stomach and rip it out. This doesn't happen and he has the time of his life. He grins at me and his nose is encrusted in green boogers. He is wearing a white tank top with a pirate ship on it. I love him.

God Laughs Last

I just got called into be a gym teacher sub tomorrow at my elementary school alma mater. I really need to get a track suit, asap.

Yes, We Did

Where did those girls go, they were having the worst luck...

Hey, is that them over there in the woods?

Well, hello guys! We were just taking a little break.

Nothing says Obama '08 like brewskis in the woods, right?

I think our influence on the Obama campaign is clear.

2nd Person, Personal

You have been sick with a flu/head cold thing for over a week, but are also broke as a joke, so when the school calls asking you to sub as a gym teacher, you don't say no. Ask what you should wear, and when she says "something casual" put on a green hoodie and black yoga pants. When you get to the school, discover that the other gym teacher is wearing a red, white, and blue track suit. That's ok, it's to be expected.

The first class is kindergarden and you are struck as how tiny, unique, and adorable each child is. Wonder how the hell you've gotten by everyday without such authentic and sincere creatures in your life. Vow to babysit more. To Invest in Children. Some of them whisper so low you can't hear their names, but look them in the eyes and say hi anyway. When they smile, feel fulfilled. Believe that you have just discovered your true calling. Know that you love children and always will. How could you not? They run to sit next to you in the circle, grab your hands when they want your attention, and unselfconsciously hump each other during games. Feel assured of the goodness and beauty of life.

Don't be alarmed when the rest of the day does not go as smoothly as the first block. When a 1st grader asks "Are you a girl?" forgive yourself for replying "Are you?" It's ok to walk away smugly when she looks confused and nods yes. It's also ok for the other gym teacher to overhear the interaction. Cope with the situation by sending out a text message to your friends from the bathroom telling them that you are a lesbian gym teacher for the day. Wait for positive reinforcement to pour in from outside. It will.

Ponder how life takes people in strange directions after you try to convince an 8th grade girl to shoot hoops instead of standing around. Become angry at how much processed sugar is fed to children when the class immediately following lunch is a pack of monsters. Blow a whistle and remind everyone to stay WITHIN THE GREEN LINES! Become overwhelmed when they all rush at you at once and ask to use the bathroom. Deny them all permission to use the water fountain. Feel that they are all a bunch of lazy little slackers. Decide that you were being cruel and allow the next class to get many drinks. Try not to feel personally responsible when a 3rd grader comes back with her head soaking wet. Convince yourself this will not reflect poorly on you. Rationalize that you can't be in all places at all times.

Feel happy when you discover that you went to high school with one of the teachers. Feel in your heart she is also a lesbo. Pray that she won't remember you wearing yoga pants the next time she sees you out. Pray for the day to end quickly. Feel the seconds dragging like minutes and the hours like years. Become disorientated when it is actually time to leave. Write a nice note and leave your number in case they ever need anyone in the future. Wonder at what you will do for money. Feel that you simultaneously never want to leave and can't escape fast enough. Wait until you drive to Whole Foods before changing out of your yoga pants in the car. Getting arrested for indecent exposure on school grounds will surely sink your new career. Lock your keys in the car and call your mom. When she arrives, convince her to buy a free range turkey for Thanksgiving. Then have her buy you hundreds of dollars worth of organic fake meat products. Drive home and collapse into bed.

Thank You, Barack

Barack Obama has already changed my life in so many ways. Besides renewing my faith in the goodness of humanity and the citizens of the U.S. desire to act in it's own self interest, he has also turned me into a news watcher. For the past two weeks, I have enjoyed, that's right enjoyed, watching 60 minutes. Tonight he reconfirmed his committment to close Guantanamo Bay. Friends, I could just cry with joy. In fact, I have, several times since he's been elected.

Erika on Obama

My friend Erika wrote this really nice little story about her election night experience:

Not a single person I've spoken to since yesterday has been anything but joyous at our new state of affairs. Barrack is president. Everyone says that they didn't think it would ever happen and neither did I. But I can't even imagine what it would be like to be an older person today. Particularly an elder who has fought for social justice his/her whole lives. Particularly an elder person of color who has lived through times in history when segregation existed. How do you wake up one morning and have a black president? How does that happen?

Last night I was at a party with Aileen, my girlfriend, and a bunch of other peers whom I met through my Grad program. It just so happened that this party was in Harlem. I'm not sure that the significance of place was apparent to me before the election was called for Obama on CNN. But when it was called, after sobbing and screaming, we all hit the street. And I mean we all hit it. Yelling and screaming and crying and whooping. We had life sized Obama and Biden cardboard cutouts that we brought out – and the host and a young neighbor guy ran down the streets holding them up. People were crying and yelling with joy, cabs honked profusely, young guys jogged and high-fived everyone and took pictures with the life-sized Obama cutout, and everyone, everyone you passed in the street simply said "Obama" as a greeting and nodded. People waved a HUGE American flag outside and it didn't feel falsely patriotic or conservative. It felt good. Not because all of the sudden things have changed. But because all of the sudden it feels good to be a part of that collective called this country. The collective that elected Barack. WE did this.

Anyway, every time I think about last night and this day, I think about how this the first day in a long time, and the first time in my lifetime, that this country transcended itself to be better than we thought we were. And even though I know lots of beautiful and powerfully good people personally, this is the first time I ever thought perhaps they/we are the majority.

If Obama can be president, we can completely overhaul education. If Obama can be president, we can stop war. If Obama can be president, real universal health care seems simple. Antiracism through activism and queer rights seem possible. Not that they are givens, but they are possible.

so happy. so happy. and we will keep working.

She Shot Me

Halloween kind of got buried under all the election excitement but it was actually quite the party weekend. I went to three parties, attempted to go to four, dressed as Andy Warhol and was killed by two different Valerie Solanis'. Totally awesome.

Don't shoot Valerie! On her back Aleah was wearing a sign with a quote from the S.C.U.M. manifesto that I made, it said: The males like death -- it excites him sexually and, already dead inside, he wants to die. I thought it appropriate for Halloween.
Andy hanging with the Black Dahlia, who was a major hottie and a great hostess, despite being dead.

The Rising

My friend Tim read this poem at our Antioch graduation. I had no idea he was planning on doing so, but he is an incredible orator and added so much to the beauty of one of the best days of my life.

A Cute Top is Hard to Find

America, I Celebrate You

Students were cheering and horns were honking as I drove over the Harvard bridge last night, on my way home after watching the election results at Torrance's house. We were watching John Stewart and thought maybe he was fucking with us when he announced the results so early. We both started crying and I didn't stop for a really long time. The eleated texted messages started flying and my favorite was an ealry one from Ashling which just said "OMFG." I think Gossip Girl would agree. OMFG, I am proud to be an American today.

JOY!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I feel honored to have lived to see this day!

Feels So Good

Everything Feels Hard

I called my aunt in Nevada to remind her to vote and encourage her to vote for Barack. She told me she's voting for McCain and then I told her I hope she doesn't vote. She reminded me everyone has the right to vote, so I pretended I was kidding. I am trying to remember that my family member's views are not a personal attack on me but I felt a rage welling up inside of me and then a desire to cry. It's so hard not to take this all very personally, even though it's REALLY NOT ABOUT ME. Tomorrow is going to be an intense day, I'm hopeful but nervous.

A little later...

Someone recommended that I throw a fit if I want to, so I started yelling and rolling around on the floor when Artemisia came running over to see what was wrong. She started purring and climbed up on my chest and then drooled right in my mouth. Kitties make it all better.

Beardo Manifesto

All you folk/punk loving ladies out there will remember, perhaps not so fondly, Bitch & Animal's "Pussy Manifesto" song. Last night I was tipped off to the male equivalent: Whiskerino, a website where men celebrate themselves through charting the growth of their facial hair.

Here is an excerpt from their manifesto:

We are alienated from our own facial hair.

Society tells us that full beards are unacceptable. Businessmen, politicians, bankers, and the like are all clean shaven; all demonstrating the standards that middle class society expects us to maintain.

In other words, these are all examples of "the man" keeping down nascent beards everywhere. These are the people that alienate us from our masculinity, forcing us to shave and adopt public personas which might not reflect our own true inner animal.

What a rousing call to freedom. Take back your beards, brave men, creepy as they may look.

The Blessings

This is the short dramatic scene I made for my Image and Sound Production class. I wrote the script and two generous and talented actor friends from high school agreed to star. It was a collabo project, I shot and edited the first half and the credits and my partner from class, Deb, did the rest.

Celebrate With Me

This week has been a good one for the weasel. I got a good grade on the mid-term I was nervous about and this morning I got into all the classes I wanted for next semester. Hell Yeah. Never thought I would celebrate about taking copy editing but that's what old age will do to you. Can't wait to become a grammar nerd! I intend to celebrate my triumph today by doing my homework, walking the dog, doing the dishes, cleaning my room, and other activities I find rewarding (OLD). I invite you to do the same.

Solid as Barack!

Rasta in the Quad

I love Andy Samberg, he is truly the voice of our generation.

Dog Snores

The giant beast snores so loud I often think he is suffocating in his sleep. But no, he just sounds like a very old man.

Elusive Patience

Registration for classes is going on this week and I got up early to beat the rush only to discover that I can't sign up until 1pm tomorrow. As a first year, my pool gets last choice. Of course they sent me many emails with date and time information on it, but I was confused after talking to the head of my department, so I got up early for no reason. Boo. Everyone is jockeying for the same classes so it feels like the pressure is on. I am trying to remember to breathe and surrender and all that good stuff, but it's hard.

Also, I have decided that I really want to work as an intern at the Ptown Fine Arts Center this summer but they don't start accepting applications until December. To quote the Princess Bride, "I hate wait."

Back in the Saddle

Yesterday I spent four hours editing the short dramatic scene I shot last weekend. It's not done yet, but I had fun cutting it and am confident that I can finish it by class on Tuesday. It's nice to know that after six years away from the editing suite, I haven't lost my magic Avid touch. Look for the finished product up here later this week. Once I turn that bad boy in, my mid-terms will be officially over--hurray!

In other news, I got to talk to my beloved former housemate, Foolie McFoolerton, today. It was a rare treat. There is a possibility that fair Foolie will be coming east this winter in time to celebrate New Years and the 31st bday of the weasel. Oh, I can barely stand to think of how much fun we will have!

Last night I slept for 10.5 hours which felt just right. Since moving, my body now requires about two more hours of sleep than it used to in California. Hopefully this condition will not be permanent, although I kind of like the idea of hibernating for the winter.

Tonight I am having family dinner with my mom, bros and bff Torrance. Tory was a regular fixture in my house during high school, but she hasn't seen my bros in a decade. I expect a joyous reunion with much good natured Campagna-style ribbing. My mom is making my brother's favorite dinner: roast beef, mashed potatoes and broccoli cheese casserole. Tory and I will have boca burgers, it's gonna be totally awesome.

The Problem Has Been Identified

Moveon.org sent this to me. I thought it was footage from Saturday, but it's still pretty funny.

HELP!

I have a mid-term due this evening and my mom is distracting me. Men came this morning with a big loud vacuum to clean out our vents and she gave them cranberry bread, which was very cute and made them happy. But now she won't stop talking to me. When I was younger, I used to have to ask my dad to turn down Bruce Springsteen so I could concentrate on my math homework. It's truly a mystery why I never learned good study habits until I left for college.

The Talk

New Hampshire's Heart is a Battleground

Torrance and I drove to Nashua, N.H. today with two random Moveon.org white dudes that signed up to be in my carpool. We split a neighborhood with the dudes and somehow got every mean person on the list. After telling Tory that white women were probably in the best position to convince people about Obama, we were thoroughly abused. We got kicked off property several times and I can't get the image out of my head of the beady eyed man who slammed his door in our faces after shouting "I wouldn't vote for that guy if you held a gun to my head!" And I was even wearing a Red Sox t-shirt. It actually got so bad that we quit early and the dudes found us hiding in the woods drinking a beer out of a paper bag.

Did I mention that I have midterms this week? Sigh. On the upside, I got to stand next to Matt Kennedy while he gave us a schpiel and we avoided Kerry's speech. Woohoo.

Just Crazy Enough

Today I got good news that the temp therapist I've been seeing at school is going to be my full time therapist--yay. They don't usually see students on a weekly basis for extended periods of time but are making an exception for me. Being gay and crazy has finally paid off! Free therapy? Yes We Can.

Also, Torrance and I are driving to New Hampshire this weekend to knock on doors for Obama, should be amazing. I'm trying to get my little brother Matty to come too...

The Great Schlep

The Great Schlep from The Great Schlep on Vimeo.

Rock the vote!

work it out

I applied for a job at Barnes and Nobles in Chestnut Hill today because I simply can not stomach the idea of working in an office for a really long time. For some reason I feel excited by this move, more updates to come...

Goodbye to All That

I returned to NYC for the first time in over a year to attend a baby shower or as we lesbos like to call it a "blessing of the belly." It was so good to see old friends, walk the tree-lined streets of Brooklyn, and eat in favorite vegetarian restaurants.

I haven't been updating my blog as frequently as I like to and this weekend I was reminded of what a great way it is for me to keep in touch with people. In an effort to prioritize how I spend my goof off time, I deleated my facebook and myspace accounts. When I'm not doing school work, I want to be reading about my friend's lives and sharing a few thoughts of my own. So if you mss me, email me or just read the blog. Hopefully, it will be more happening.

I Made This

Just So You Know

I have been neglecting my blog but not my writing. In the short time I have been in school, I have written: two short stories, one dramatic scene, and a bunch of papers.

The papers I won't bore you with, except to say that after we explored how Chekhov was Chekhovian, I learned about how Raymond Carver was Chekhovian. That was capped off nicely when I had to write about the ways Carver is and isn't Carverian this past weekend. How's that for a hot Friday night?

If you want to read my stories, email me and I'll send them your way!

Super Nerd Style

Aw yeah! This announcement was posted on my schools web site:

Quidditch Club Meeting
10/01/2008
7:00 PM - 8:00 PM
Max Mutchnick Campus Center
Lower Level 2, Skybox
Free

There will be a meeting of all members of the Emerson Community interested in joining the Emerson College Quidditch Club.

Sponsored by Athletics.

How cute is that!?! Harry Potter Fans Unite. This is the email I sent in response to the contact person:

What if I really want to join the Quidditch team but I don't have a broom? Also, do you allow graduate students?

Cheers,

Laura

And just in case anyone thinks I'm joking, I'm not. I will play this sport!

Impressive and Totally Bizarre

The set of Will and Grace now lives encased in glass in the library where I go to school. I walk by it on my way to the "quiet study area" (Emerson student are not naturally a quiet bunch). I am simultaneously delighted and disturbed by it's presence. Here is what the officials have to say:

A permanent exhibit of the set of the path-breaking NBC television comedy Will & Grace, the first network series with a gay principal character from the outset, has been installed at Emerson College, which offers academic programs in communication and the arts. The set was gift to the college from alumnus Max Mutchnick, co-creator and executive producer of the series and a college Trustee.

Mutchnick is one of the numerous Emerson graduates prominent in the entertainment industry. Others include Kevin Bright, executive producer of Friends an also a college Trustee, actors Denis Leary and Henry Winkler, producers Norman Lear (All in the Family) and Vin Di Bona (America's Funniest Home Videos), and talk show host Jay Leno.

The iconic set, depicting an upscale New York City apartment inhabited by Will Truman and Grace Adler, is located in the Emerson College Library, near the school's media collection. Space for the display was created in the library as part of a multi-level "light well" project that created additional study spaces on the 4th, 5th and 6th floors of the Walker Building. The Will & Grace set is located on the 3rd floor. The project has added approximately 2,000 square feet of library space.

"The Library's new spaces were designed in response to requests from students for more quiet study space, more group study rooms and improved media viewing facilities," explained the Library's Executive Director Robert Fleming. "Filling in the light well in the Walker Building allowed us to add 80 new study seats and to reunite the Library's print and media collections, so that all of our materials, regardless of format, are available under one roof. I hope that having the Will & Grace set in the Library will inspire current students to imagine what they might accomplish in the future."

The Wagon

I assumed that grad school would inspire me to write on my blog a lot and any prediction made the first week would be hasty, but at this point, I'm not so sure. They're giving me a lot of stuff to do. But if its any consolation for you, know that I have enjoyed spending the last few days reading Hemingway, Updike, and Chekhov. That's right friends, I am loving, reading Dead White Men. Some of those dudes are brilliant and I say bring them on.

Yes the stereotypes are true, all the boys in my lit class really do have big boners for James Joyce. But who cares? If sitting through 10-20 minutes of their wanking is necessary for me to get this education I don't mind. You know why? Cause right now, I'm getting paid to read and think. Yesterday I sat in a chair across from strangers and read for hours in the Emerson library and that was me bring productive. Did I mention I love grad school so far? Cause I do.

I can't wait for next week in my lit class. One of the conundrums the professor already threw at us was "...sometimes Chekhov's writing wasn't always Chekhovian."

OMG

DISCUSS.

Man Love So Tender

i love this picture of mccain snuggling up to papa bear!

Stop Playing Those Games

Hanging in the Balance

My brother Matt moved out on Monday bringing the human/animal ratio back to 1:1. I have rechristened 10 Salman "Womantown" (although its only the Mass chapter) because after 28 long years, the boys have finally left the building.

Matt's giant black labrador, Bailey, will be staying here and we've been taking hikes together at Hale Reservation. Emerson's two day graduate orientation starts tomorrow and classes begin on Monday. Wish me luck I finish all of the boring loan and bill stuff I have been putting off all summer today.

Sausage Dog Streaker Hippy Love

Thanks Corey!

This is NOT What a Feminist Looks Like

How Sarah Palin could ever pass for progress is beyond me.

Happiness Is a Republican Pill

See more Adam "Ghost Panther" McKay videos at Funny or Die

The people at Funny or Die are my new heros!

Internvention Goes Gay

Aleah, this one's for you!

See more Kristin Chenoweth videos at Funny or Die

I Did This On Purpose

It was a great plan: drive 10,000 miles in two months. The purpose being to overwhelm and exhaust myself so I don't freak out about what I've left behind (my heart...in San Francisco).

I've also had plenty of time to get excited about school and come up with several new life plans. as a Capricorn, I always have a 5 year plan and it always included going to grad school and then getting a Fulbright (duh).

I'm in Charleston, SC until Monday when I will leave and drive to DC, by Wednesday, I will be home. I AM SO TIRED but last night I sang "16 Going on 17" as Lindy and I danced around a gazebo and tonight I'm going on a ghost walk-woooooo.

Non Stop

Hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul.
And sings the tune
without the words,
and never stops at all.

~ Emily Dickinson


sedona-red rock that cracked me open when my heart was already broken
new mexico-delights of billy the kid country, fear of mean men, and wonder in subterranean worlds
austin-blessings of old friends and water: tubing, cold springs and beers
louisiana-small town gay bar, crazy gray cat and a big comfy bed
mississippi-sushi bar in biloxi, just what the doctor ordered
montgomery-sneaking into an rv park, white house of the confederacy and the civil rights monument on the same block
georgia-vegetarian cult food never disappoints, i want a peach
south carolina-forests, moss and lindy

almost home, ahhhhhhhh.

Back in the Bay

Its cold here, Christmas in August thanks to the fog. I have no pants with me and have forgotten how to layer. A week is too short for socializing and respite, so the usual gets sacrificed.

Ethan, Julie and I went to Half Moon Bay yesterday and flew a kite on the beach. We saw three dead birds, two were pelicans. I have seen so much road kill on my travels, many does. Skinny legs at odd angels are hard to ignore.

My subletter purchased all of my furniture and filled an entire Uhaul with it. 5 years worth of stuff and now everything else is sitting in piles on the floor of my room, keeping the liberated dustballs company. So I turned the sky room into my nest and finally got to see the vagina dentata movie Teeth.

Yuri is going to get his 5k oil change tomorrow and I need to make it to Kaisar to get my school health forms filled out at some point before Saturday. Then Erika and I drive off to the Mojave Desert.

Hurts So Good

My final day in Portland has been quinessential so far: I went to yoga, ate kale salad, got a tattoo, and then had cocktails. All before dinner. God damn, summer is a fun time.

The great part about staying with friends is getting to do how the locals do:
*Iowa City-watching a lightning storm approach while sitting in a kiddie pool at 10pm
*Badlands-Pulling into the visitor area and having a park ranger walk by and say "Massachusetts!"
*Bozeman, MT-playing bacci ball and drinking PBR in a park next to picnicing familiies, practicing belly dancers and sword wielding college students sparing down the hill
*Sprague, WA-striking up a convo with a trucker couple while eating breakfast in a diner called "the Viking". The lady trucker became enraged after reading that the state of CA had banned all trans-fats from restaurants. Turns out she had lived in the TL in the 1980s.

Resting

I have spent hundreds of dollars since arriving in Portland two days ago. The tent that broke when we tried to set it up in a hail storm had to be replaced. Ditto for the camera I lost while galloping over the plains of South Dakota on a horse. Then there's the usual PDX fare I can't resist: zines, art prints and and a good rub down (my friend hooks me up!).

Beck and I rolled into Seattle on Saturday after surviving the night in a Christian camp ground in Iowa. We tried to pretend we were a straight couple but then they referred to us as the "two boys". Can't pass even when we try, oh well. I feel braver about these things after hanging out with the lesbian moms in Iowa. I also feel REALLY GOOD about not getting into grad school there (thank you HP!).

Torrance came up from Pdx to meet me and we were going to spend several days exploring Seattle but we began to feel unwelcome at the place we were staying after my friend's housemate had extremely loud sex with the door open! We hung out in a coffee shop, went shopping in the gay part of town and then decide to go back to Pdx and watch a beloved high school movie Singles. We enjoy watching the movie more than being in the city, go figure.

Thursday I leave for Mt. Shasta where I will spend the night camping on my own and then head down to the Bay for a week. Although it's been a lot of driving, I put 4000 miles on Yuri so far, this trip has been amazing so far and I can't wait for more.

Go West Young Weasel

Except for a brief stint in Ohio, I have lived on one coast or another my entire life. But even when I was in Ohio, I never got deeper into the Mid West than Indiana. That all changed this week, I have been doing it up humid rainy style in Shytown since Wednesday.

After Philly was Ohio (via Maryland?!?) and the lovely Char and Leslie. They fed me delicious vegan food (and they're not even vegan), and spirits Char brewed herself--beer and ginger honey wine! There were fireflies and ponies, fresh eggs for sale down the road, and then we went swimming in our undies on womyn's land. Such a paradise.

Chicago is vast, like its lake. But when Abby and The Lady tried to take me to the last lesbian speakeasy we found it had been transformed into a bar which allowed men and no longer required you to buzz in. That's the 21st Century for you.

Today I visited Frank Lloyd Wright's house in Oak Park and went to see the new bat man movie while the rain came and alternately steamed us up or cooled us down. Tomorrow Beck and I leave for Iowa and points beyond. In a week from now I will be in Seattle...

A Place of Refuge

It's raining in Chicago, thwarting Nomi and my attempts to walk the Magnificent Mile (think 5th Ave). The stores are all really expensive so we are hanging in an Apple Store. Love the free internet.  My road trip has been awesome so far. 

On Monday I drove to Philly and saw Patti for the first time in many years. She showed me around West Philly which is a rad place. I got to see Will Smith's high school, hang out at an urban farm, collect free tranny buttons and drink a kale smoothie. FUN. 

Oh the rain has stopped, bye!

I Hate Landlords

I really do.

Would You Rather...

Go out dancing on a Friday night or stay home and clean your mom's basement? Tonight I chose the latter and found myself half drunk and sweating away in the humid summer night as my grandmother's 77th bday party dragged on past my socialization point.

It's nice not being too depressed to accomplish things (thanks prozac). In high school, I would have retreated to my room to talk on the phone about how much I hated my family and put off searching for my tent.

Although I failed to get her a birthday present, my grandmother arrived with a gift for me: a traveling utensil set she bought at Eddie Bauer two years ago."I knew you were going to do something like this someday Laura!" She said laughing, referring to the six week cross country road trip I am embarking upon on Monday.

"See that? Grammy has always been a little psychic." My mom told me later.

7+7=14
1+4=5

A pentagram (five pointed star) is a symbol of life. I hope this is a very good year for my grammy.

Morning

People keep asking me why I shaved my head. My answer of 'a mourning ritual' has been commonly misheard as a "morning ritual." Then they ask me why I feel the need to shave every morning.

My family thinks I look terrible, but the ladies seem to like it, so I'm not too concerned. Except when I start to think about the straight wedding I am attending this Saturday, then I start to feel nervous. It's my Italian side of the family, my dad's side, and they are a little more conservative than my moms. In a good Boston liberal way but still, I don't want anyone to feel like I was trying to ruin my cousin's wedding or something.

When I was younger I thought that I would only have to come out once, tell my parents, and then the information would be psychically broadcasted to everyone in my family and that would be that. Not so. I have learned there are stages, the first time they meet your date, or all your trans friends, or see you wearing a "eat pussy not cows" t-shirt. Coming out is a constant process, in each situation with my family I have to negotiate how out I want to be. This weekend, there will be no choice. My haircut screams "BIG LESBO" and it makes me a little nervous considering I have never actually articulated the words "I am gay" to most of these people. If they ask why I shaved my head, should I use the easy 'my cat died' excuse or should I go big (gay) or go home?

This morning, Sid, the first kitty I adopted on my own, a tiny black and white little guy, woke me up at 6am with a single meow. I thought he wanted to be fed, but downstairs I discovered that he just wanted me to open the screen door. The light streaming in from the windows next to my bed made sleep impossible, so I went to a 7:30am Bikram yoga class. The experience confirmed my hunch that I really don't like Bikram, it feels more like an aerobics class than yoga to me (I can't believe I got so into for a month five years ago).

Besides the sun, the other reason I couldn't fall back to sleep is because this weekend I BOUGHT A NEW CAR and if everything goes well at the insurance place, I can pick it up today . Yes, that's right, I achieved my goal of making it to 30 without ever owning a car, a small victory for a North American, and now I am the proud owner of a Toyota Yaris. More updates on this crazy turn of life events to come...

Last Night

I woke up disoriented at 5:30am having a panic attack to find myself lying horizontally across my mattress. Finn used to wake me up to feed him between 5 and 6am by gently biting my hands or pressing his claws into my flesh in a slow and deliberate manner.

There was no one to feed or cuddle, so instead I peed, took an ativan and wrote in my journal for awhile. I also felt relief for having awoken from my bad dream (which I can no longer remember), but disturbed I had worked myself and my sheets into such a state.

I leave San Francisco in two days and the stress is getting to me.

Happy Trans Pride!

HU-FING-RAY!

Today is my last full day of work. Tomorrow my office going away party begins at 2pm and then we put on our finest and go the Trans March at Dolores Park (intern Alicia is doing intern Peter's make-up--so cute!). I foresee it as a great gay way to go out. Also, the new dude they hired is queer too, so I'm happy about that, keep it in the family.

To celebrate the end of work and the beginning of pride and a summer of fun, an amazing video for you all:

Mourning

Many of you know that I've been wanting to shave my head since Tucker died. I wanted to grow my hair long and cut it off and leave it at her grave.
My inspiration was the scene in Willow, where Willow's wife gives him her braid before he leaves for the great adventure. The image of her beautiful red braid made a strong impression on me.
I planned on shaving my head when I returned to the Bay Area in August. However, Finn's death prompted me to take immediate action and mingle my hair with his on the bathroom floor.

Job stood up, tore his robe in grief, and shaved his head. Then he fell to the ground and worshiped. Job 1:20

For if the woman be not covered, let her also be shorn: but if it be a shame for a woman to be shorn or shaven, let her be covered. 1 Corinthians 11:6

Many thanks to Erika and Andy who provided moral support, buzzing assistance and documented the cathartic process.

My Bum Bum

My beloved cat Finn died unexpectedly last week. We don't know exactly what happened, just that he went missing on Wednesday night and then Julie found his body Thursday morning underneath a neighbors van. Ethan had to crawl under and pull him out while I was wailing on the sidewalk like a banshee.

I loved him so much, he was a fierce cuddle monster who taught me a lot about love, boundaries, personal space and asserting oneself.


it's lonely without him. No one greets me at the door or massages my stomach making biscuits and drolling on me at night. There is no reason to rush home or look forward to getting off work at an unusual hour to surprise him. I miss my baby, 69 B is not the same without him.

Is Gay Marriage Feminist?

I don't think so, but these NYTimes pictures are awesome and hilarious!



the hipster gays want to get married too!


will someone make me sugar-free gay cupcakes for my next bday?

It's Like This...

This past weekend was one of the best ever. It was really f*ing fun and has inspired me to write a gratitude list. Of course, this inspires my neurotic mind to generate a list of stresses of equal length.

The blessings:

-shopping sprees with my friend, tory, who's visiting from pdx and just happens to have dope style and gives crucial fashion advice.

-super fun going away party at aileen's apartment with decorations and a clean up crew included! THANKS FRIENDS!


-tory and i getting dressed up in our finest butch/femme gear and discovering an open bar and wine at the tables at the wedding reception.

-8 days of work left!!!

-getting to go to grad school

-my future cross country adventures. i can hear the open road calling my name, it sounds like "freedom!"

-pride: the parties, community, films and revelry

The challenges:

-being seated at a table and having to converse with corporate sell outs who are touchy about it at the wedding reception.

-psychic reading where they told me about lots of abuse inflicted upon me and by me in past lives. i concluded that if i am going to continue to believe in reincarnation then i am going to have to accept the fact that i probs haven't existed for thousands of years without inflicting any harm. not to be cavalier, but as i said to tory when we left that place "somebody had to be hitler."

-8 days of work left to get everything done!

-driving alone cross country sounds lonely and scary...WHAT IF I BREAK DOWN IN THE DAKOTAS?!?

-leaving, having to say good-bye

-pride: the stress, drama, crises and hangovers


The truth:

-they are all blessings and i'm going to be just fine.

John McCain: 10,000 Years

Gay of the Day: James Taylor

I sweat Jimmy pretty hard so I've already talked about him a bunch on the ol' blog (and posted his latest video a few days ago). How he's a genius, how his band/performance under the moniker "Hundreds of Dismembered Handbags" rules.

But indulge me for a few minutes more, cause heres the really real deal: Jimmy is an authentic human being and as such is a gift from the universe. Next to my brother Matty, he's my favorite ginger haired tosser with a heart of gold. I love him and I'm so grateful for his existence. Now you can know why...

how do you know the weasel?
Through Tucker. We became friends when we all lived in Portland.

where did you grow up and where do you live now?
Anchorage, AK. Now I live in San Francisco, CA

where/what did you study(college)?
English was my degree at Reed. But I was a theory geek. Big time. Lacan, Deleuze, Baudrillard, and many other post-structuralist took over my life.

I also took film classes at City College, which totally changed my life in so many ways that it's futile to try to talk about it here. Take intro film production at City right now! Okay?

what do you do for $$$?
I work at a record store. I need to get a new job!

what do you do for art?
I do performance art (but not stupid) that is narrative. I make movies too and do a lot of video
stuff. It's all narrative: I fuck around with the structure though. Basically I am interested in people that aren't considered desirable by our society and all their secrets they never get to share. But in my world, they make their private world public. It's all very confessional. AND they are working customer service jobs. Uh, I'm not feeling articulate today...

what do you make for lunch?
Beans and rice is the usual. But now I'm making your sandwich, only slightly modified. Hummus, spinach, tofurkey, cucumbers, and a cup of dehydrated split pea soup.

who are your biggest influences?
AH. I have too many! Artistically, I like later Ingmar Bergman, like "The Hour of the Wolf" and "The Passion of Anna." I also like Godard after he left the film industry: I guess I like a lot of Euro 70s radical art films. But I also love Classic Hollywood films. You know what movie rules that I saw last week? Lubitsch's "To Be or Not To Be." Watch that movie!

A year ago, I finally realized what album was most important to me and was indeed my favorite. It's EVOL by Sonic Youth! It feels so good to be able to just put your foot down and say this is my favorite of all time. Bam. That's it!

what inspires you?
People's faces. Sometimes I go for weeks without seeing an interesting face, but when I do, I can almost write a complete script.

what do you like about performance?
When it's over, and I'm at home relaxing.

about film?
It's a bunch of records of things that really happened and it lasts forever. (I realized how magical this quality is after Tucker died.) I also like that I can share it with people all over the world, and now with youtube and DVDs, it's not as elitist. I can just set up my camera in my room, and then the whole world can see what it's like to be me. Isn't that fucking amazing!

where do you see yourself in 10 years?
With health insurance. Living in a cabin in Alaska. Making movies. Watching movies.

what would you do if you were fully funded, like by God (he's got deep pockets)?
Well, my biggest dream is too shoot a feature in black and white 35mm. It would be shot in Anchorage and be about a gay vampire that works at the Arctic Road Runner (it's super rad burger joint, but I think they're really religious!). It would totally reference Universal horror movies from the 30s, and the lighting would be as good as any Dreyer film, let me tell you!

If I had a lot of money, I would do something political too. Like evict all the white yuppie people from SF and have the people that were displaced interview them as they pack up their shit.

is it important that people understand your work or interpret it as you intended?
No. Once I open my mouth, it's not really mine anymore. (But I also don't like those artist who won't say anything about their work!!) I do have a point I'm trying to argue with every piece, but I'm not master of the fucking universe.

Thanks for interviewing me Mel! I feel so much more focused!

You can learn more about the bay area's beloved James Taylor at: http://www.myspace.com/100sofdismemberedhandbags

Breaking Down

Stress lowers the immune system and as a result of my impending move, I have succumbed to several illnesses. In addition to my old standbys, depression and anxiety (both of which have been in full effect), I also had an incredibly itchy rash on my left arm, right hand and the left side of my trunk. I like it when people refer to the torso as a "trunk", it makes me feel like a tree.

But I don't like when my yoga teacher makes us do sit-ups and calls them "core strengtheners." She's not fooling me and I don't care how 90's it sounds, they are sit ups. Even if we are all reaching towards a big mural of the elephant head god Ganesh, the Remover of Obstacles (he's so dope).

Anyway, for those of you following my recent health crises, the rash turned out to be poison oak, not scabies, bed bugs, shingles or flea bites. Thanks for all the suggestions though.

A description of what has been going on in my mouth is not fit for public consumption. However, when my vicodin supply ran out I finally accepted the truth and took myself to the dentist. The experience reaffirmed my opinion that dentists are sadists who enjoy robbing you blind, but lesbians have stolen all our safer sex accoutrement from that latex loving profession, so I will try not to hate on them too hard.

A new acupuncture clinic, SF Community Acupuncture, opened up around the corner from my house and they are the best deal in town! I had my first visit on Saturday and am healing rapidly thanks to the magic of some tiny needles and foul tasting Chinese herbs. Thank the goddess there are people who want to provide affordable alternative medicine, it freaking works!

America's Next Top Hand Model

The Hand Model



The latest from Jimmy Robeson of Hundreds of Dismembered Handbags.

Room with a View

For the last 30 min since I came back from lunch, I have been distracted by a scene taking place outside my office window on Capp Street. A white police officer started questioning the driver of a big truck double parked on the street. The driver gets get of the cab, she is middle-age Latina holding a baby in her arms. After a few minutes, a Latino man appears to stand next to her on the sidewalk.

From the back of the truck, it appears they are scavengers who recycle cardboard. The police learns they do not have a license or papers and I hear the detained man say "lo siento."

The first cop calls for back up and another white cops cop pulls up on a motorcycle. I walk around and tell all the attorneys in the building what is happening but everyone is busy. I go back to my window and continue to watch with my intern. Eventually the couple walk off, and the police stay behind with their truck. Now I am watching the old yellow Datsun getting towed away...

God F-ing Bless America.

A Good Day

to be an American! How often do I say that? Never. But tonight, Obama claimed the Democratic nomination--HURAAY!!!! This gives me hope, all the people who love and support his candidacy give me hope, that we are on a trajectory away from the inane madness of Bush.

An article in the New York Times magazine on Tyra Banks reported that her demographic is women 18-35 of diverse racial groups (interestingly enough, she was quoted as saying she believes she was put on earth to raise young women's self esteem--hmmm). However, according to the demographic analysis people, the generation below that is even more "color blind" and totes loves Tyra too. So she is totally set to become the new Oprah.

Anyway, I don't believe in color blindness, because although race is a construct, racism is real and has tangible effects. But I do think this country is ready for an INTELLIGENT president, and as of tonight, Barak is our man!!! I hope that he and Hill can work out their differences because I think they would be a winning ticket!

Oh, change in my lifetime feels so good.

All You Need Is Amor Cubano

Maceo and I go way back...to nights spent in long collective meetings on the dirty floor of a fledgling queer activist space on the Lower East Side. I never would have thought that eight years later our writer/activists souls we be reunited on the Left Coast...but here we are.

An amazing artist and friend, Maceo invited to be part of the writing group that was instrumental in helping me develop my grad school writing sample. Her honesty and bravery inspire me to stay true to my values as a lover and fighter for freedom everyday. I truly value her existence on the planet and presence in my life.

how do you know the artist formerly known as laura campagna?
I met the artist formerly known as laura campagna at Bluestockings several years ago when it was still a women’s bookstore. We were both volunteers and then I became staff and she was one of my bosses. There was drama, never between Mel and me but inevitable drama that would happen in a women’s collective. Luckily we are still friends.

where are you from and where do you live now?
I was born and raised in Brooklyn, NY but if I had it my way I would have been born in Victoria de la tunas, Cuba like my brothers. I now live in Oakland by Lake Merritt.

what do you do for work ($$)?
I have multiple jobs. I am a playwright/writer/actor who sometimes gets paid for that. I am a full time nanny. I help raise three toddlers. I am also an apartment manager. I am also a good friend which is also a job but I don’t charge for that one.

what do you do for art/love?
My love right now is my play Amor Cubano: In a bottle, a tube and a small packet. I wrote and produced it last year, 2007. I am in the process of working the business aspect of it and writing the Barbarita Show: The Amor Cubano Prequel/Sequel

for those who haven't seen amor cubano, what is the story/idea?
Amor Cubano: In a bottle, a tube and a small packet, is a multimedia theater performance, takes you into the world of Barbarita Perales- creator of Amor Cubano, the only product that puts the essence of all that's Cuban in a bottle, a tube and a small packet and sells it on an infomercial. Amor Cubano is so powerful it can make Berkeley people have bed-breaking sex, stop cops from shutting down the immigrant rights rally and make your Castro-hating Cuban mom wise up. But can it bring Barbarita's son home from Iraq? Is it powerful enough to end the war and stop Homeland Security from deporting Barbarita? Amor Cubano: in a bottle, a tube and a small packet, a hilarious mediation on what it means to be Cuban, and a prayer to end war in our time.

what inspires you?
Creation, music, laughter, light, love, people who take risks, knowing that change is possible.

how do you strike a balance between politics/the terrible reality of the world and hope/faith in your work?
As an artist that comes from a social justice background my work must be political. I couldn’t have it any other way. But I am also a spiritual/religious person and that aspect of myself must also be in my work. I come from a pretty religious family and my mami taught me that the best way to practice my religion was to help and be good to others. Change is possible and it starts with the individual. If we don’t love ourselves, if we don’t take care of ourselves we can’t do the same for others.

I am a very complex person and I honor my complexities. I bring those complexities into my work, that is the only way I can strike balance in my work and my life.

why is radical community important to you?
I need visionaries in my life to push me to see beyond the limits.

what do you think are the biggest issues facing humanity right now?
That we struggle with love, that there are people that still go hungry, that war still seems like an answer and that we struggle with fully honoring that we are spiritual beings.

algo mas?
I’m going to miss you.

AMOR CUBANO: In a bottle, a tube and a small packet.
Written and performed by Maceo Cabrera Estévez
Directed by Eric Avilés

With live and video performances by: Elliot "Toby" Borrero, Christy Beavers, Oscar Trujillo, Randall Babtkis, Carolyn Cooke, Mekael Johnson, Micaela Diaz-Sanchez, Rosa Gonzalez, Brendon DeMay, Cynthia Renta, Leilani Nisperos, Leydisvel Freire Peña, Salam Hassan, Amos Glick, Eric Avilés and Gonzalo Cabrera.

In November, 2007 the full length production of Amor Cubano: In a bottle, a tube and a small packet was part of the Hecho en Califas Festival at La Peña Cultural Center was also performed in the Mission Cultural Center for Latino Arts in San Francisco, CA. Amor Cubano: In a bottle, a tube and a small packet took the Bay Area by storm by showing that not only Amor Cubano can make your arthritis go away and beat the effects of Viagra it also caused thousands of US soldiers to drop their arms ending the war in Iraq.

Maceo Cabrera Estévez in her writing and performance shows not only the complexities of being Cuban but also the complexities of living in the United States. She intertwines consumerism, capitalism, spirituality love, laughter, tears and Caribbean sense of humor to entertain her audience but all give the message that love always wins. Amor Cubano: In a bottle, a tube and a small packet was Eric Aviles' directorial debut. He pushed Maceo not only to play Barbarita Perales but also Emma Goldberg, an older Jewish communist who knew about Amor Cubano before it was packaged, Lt. Caridad Lourdes Rodriguez, a former US soldier who gives testimony on the crimes in the war and her reasons for dropping her arms and Bob Buchannan a Texan supporter of Barbarita who wants to use her status to build CheMarts in Cuba. Eric Avilés also worked in the development the testimonies and news briefings on the effects of Amor Cubano with actors such as Rosa Gonzalez of HeadRush and people of the artist and activist community who wanted to be part of Amor Cubano.

Commemorating the five years anniversary on the war in Iraq, Amor Cubano: In a bottle, a tube and a small packet had its first weekend run at La Peña Cultural Center, March 27-29, 2008. Amor Cubano: In a bottle, a tube and a small packet plans to tour till November, 2008 across the United States. This play has live and video subtitles in English and Spanish with a little bit of Arabic.

For more info: www.amorcubano.org or www.myspace.com/amorcubano