Today is Kandy's 30th birthday. On Friday, Kristin threw a huge surprise party for her. The biggest surprise was her mother and grandmother flew in from Ohio for the party.

Mom Jeanie, Kandy and Grandma Shammie

Her mom, grandma and aunt cooked all day in Kristin's kitchen and mine making a huge feast for about forty people. There was so much food. And so many carbs.

Mmm...tasty carbs.

The dinner was at my house. Kristin really wanted this to be like the parties Kandy grew up with in Ohio, so the party had theme colors and everyone came dressed in white, navy blue, denim and silver.

Well, almost everyone.

Aunt Patti and Kristin

After dinner, we went next door to Kristin and Kandy's house for the after party. More food, lots of drinks and dancing in the backyard.

The Electric Slide: Bridging the gap between races since 1976.

It was an awesome time and if anyone deserves a huge party like this, it is Kandy. She is an amazing friend and we all love her very much.

To see the entire set of birthday photos, make clicky here.

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Permalink | File Under: Friends, Photos

First, take a look at a young Thomas.

This photo was taken in 1999 when we were volunteers at the now defunct GLBT community center. At the time, I was the volunteer coordinator and Thomas was one of the program leaders. This was taken before one of our committee meetings.

I know what you are thinking: What a kind, trustworthy face. But HA! You'd be wrong my friend. Shortly after this was taken, Thomas publicly humiliated me during this meeting, much to my chagrin. It was a heinous act of betrayal which may be why there are such posts as this, this, this and this.

I issue this warning to all: don't be fooled by his charming smile and sly wit. He will turn on you! Evil lurks within his boyish exterior. Pure, unadulterated evil!

That being said, please welcome my dear friend Thomas to the wonderful world of blogging!

That's right, Thomas is a'bloggin'. And it looks like he's already discovering the fun tools of The Internets® like the My Heritage Face Recognition website.

However, I think he forgot one important look alike.

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I have this box of photos that is in desperate need of sorting. Most of the photos are from high school and college. I was quite the prolific photographer. If only I would have had the skills to warrant such productivity.

At some point, I should probably scan and label these photos. But for now, how about a look at some vintage Brian.

I think we were watching the premiere of
Beverly Hills 90210 when this was taken.

I have absolutely no recollection of this photo being taken. I remember when and where it was taken (senior year in college, spring break, Orlando), but don't remember the photo actually being taken. That wine glass may have something to do with it.

Luckily that lampshade is hiding my mullet. Yes, I had a mullet. It was the 90s. Everyone had a mullet. Or as my friend Kristin likes to say, everyone in Oklahoma had a mullet.

Even though you can't see the mullet — and trust me, you will see it eventually; there are countless photos of its existence — you can certainly see the swinging fashions of the day. Shirt buttoned up to the top. Friendship bracelets. And HELLO! Rolled up jeans!

Effin' classy.

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The toys I bought for him.

The toys he actually plays with.

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Permalink | File Under: Elliott

My friend Gayle is in town for work. One of the things on her agenda was to stop by the station to shoot a segment. (Check it out here.) But after that was her most important duty: having lunch with me.

Gayle is a hoot. She's one of the most fun people I know. It was great catching up with her. We had a great lunch filled with good food and fun gossip.

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In June, Patrick found this staring up at him while eating lunch.

Last night, I found the perfect accompanying beverage for his meal.

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I present you the new face of herpes!

Well. thankfully my herpes is in remission right now. Look no blisters.
Not one, just a cold sore. Oh. That's herpes. Ugh, it's back.

Well, okay...it's not really herpes, but it looks like herpes.

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Permalink | File Under: Elliott

During my morning errands, I went to a bookstore to look at a cookbook I was interested in buying. After I looked through it I decided it wasn't what I needed so I started browsing the different sections. I eventually found myself in the self-help section, rolling my eyes at some of the titles. Then a thought ignited. I wondered if they had any books by SARK.

I've never read any books by SARK. I think there may have been some in the waiting room of my first therapist's office, but I usually just pretended to read Time or Newsweek while I watched the other people in the room and guessed what their problems were. I know about SARK from one of her mentees, Andrea Scher. I find a lot of inspiration from Andrea. Many times when I read her blog I have these "A-ha!" moments. She gets it. So I was curious, what her mentor has to offer.

I found several books and randomly picked one up and started flipping through it quickly. I stopped on a page that had these nine words written on it.

You are enough.
You have enough.
You do enough.

After I read that I quickly slammed the book shut and looked around as if I was embarrassed to be caught reading something I shouldn't. My face was a bit flushed. I opened it slowly and read it again.

"Could it be that simple?", I thought. We spend all this time trying to be more, to get more, to do more. Are we really enough? And why was my reaction to this way of thinking so strong to reject this idea. To be shocked by its simplicity.

I put the book back on the shelf and picked up another and flipped through it. In that book I found a page about Andrea. SARK writes that Andrea taught her how to play Magpies, a game she invented. You ask a question, open the dictionary randomly and point to a word for the answer.

I remembered reading about Magpies on Andrea's blog. Playing Magpies is how she ended up working for SARK.

I was supposed to read that, I thought. I've been thinking about it all day. For so long I've been feeling rather less than. Concentrating on what I don't have and what I'm not. I don't make enough money. I don't have enough things. I'm not talented. I'm not smart. I'm not attractive. I'm not a good friend. Blah, blah, blah. These thoughts clutter my mind and make me feel thick and heavy. They are a poison that numb and harden me.

But then to be shown that I am enough, I have enough and I do enough — what a freeing concept. What an unexpected gift.

Later my roommate told me he was planing on going to the casino that night. When I asked him why he told me it was because it's July 7 of 2007 (7.7.07) and that it's supposed to be a lucky day.

I did turn out to be a lucky day indeed.

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Permalink | File Under: Thinking

Recently Phoenix was bumped up on the list of top cities in the United States. We are now the fifth largest city. (Take that Philadelphia!) And while we can bask in this glory thanks to our booming population, there is still a Rodney Dangerfield-esque feeling of "can't get no respect."

When people think of the great cities of America, they typically think of New York, Chicago, San Francisco. Even Philadelphia. But Phoenix? The first thing that pops into people's minds is "it sure is hot there."

Part of the problem is that Phoenix hasn't really established an identity. When I mentioned those other cities above, they summon images and character. The Big Apple. The Windy City. The City of Brotherly Love.

What does Phoenix conjure? "But it's a dry heat."

A common complaint from people new to Phoenix or just visiting is that "there's nothing to do here." You hear that especially from residents of those greater cities, usually delivered in an indignant tone.

First, let me address that. Snob is just a fancy way of saying arrogant and rude. And it'll throw in closed-minded for good measure. I remember the first time I went to New York City, there were a couple people I met who treated me like I was an uneducated bumpkin from the sticks. ("Golly gee whiz! I'm just simple country folk, ya'll.") Fortunately, I didn't let those two cloud my opinion of the many other New Yorkers I met, nor their city.

Next, there is stuff to do here. Lots of stuff. It may not be what you are used to and you may have to do some digging to find it, but it's out there. We have arts and culture. We have sports. We have music. We have festivals. There is good food to be found and good times to be had.

Oh, and we have the best fucking roller derby league ever.

Phoenix is not without its flaws and it is certainly not a flashy city. But it's also not without its merits.

1.5 million people seem to think so.

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