Born On This Day- July 20th... Ancient Muscle Queen- A.T. Great

Are you into Greek?

Outside of Jesus Christ, Alexander III of Macedonia is probably the most important figure in Western History. He brought Greek philosophy & thought to the rest of the world in the 4th century B.C. Alexander took his army into Central Asia & then into India. Alexander the Great conquered 90% of the known world & forged an empire stretching from Greece to India by the time of his death at age 32.



The greatest emotional relationship of Alexander's life was with his BFF, general, & bodyguard- Hephaestion, the son of a Macedonian noble & a major hottie. Hephaestion's early death devastated Alexander, sending him into an extended period of grieving, which eventually contributed to Alexander's failing health, & nutty behavior during his final months.

Alexander was a real drama queen, with an impulsive nature, which contributed to some of his questionable decisions during his life. That old queen- Plutarch thought that this part of his personality was the cause of his weakness for cocktails. He was known to frequent happy hours throughout the known world. Alexander was stubborn & did not respond well to being ordered around, a situation that I undertand all too well.. Along with his fiery temperament, there was a calmer side to Alexander; perceptive, logical, & calculating. He had a great thirst for knowledge, a love for philosophy, a big fan of Greek Musical Comedies & he was an avid reader.

Alexander was said to be extremely handsome. Many portraits of him were made in his lifetime. It was recorded that he had a very pleasant body odor & breath, which for the times must have been remarkable… if you know what I mean. He was a major gym bunny who loved strenuous exercise & would often hit the gym. He could jump off & then back on a chariot moving at full speed. His BF- Hephaestion was taller & even more handsome; you know that kind of power couple. The Persian Queen bowed to him instead of Alexander when she was presented to them. Alexander said to the mortified queen "Never mind, Mother, Hephaestion is also Alexander.

Unfortunately, Hephaestion & Alexander were never able to enjoy their house at The Pines on Fire Island & because they were so busy conquering the world, they were rarely able to use their townhouse in the West Village.


Like Portland, Oregon & other urban hipster centers in the 21st century, sexual attraction between men was considered normal in Classical Greece as well as in Alexander's time. Men of culture & education like Alexander loved beauty… & there was beauty to be ransacked all over the world.

WHAT THE CRAP IS THIS??

"Go eat some apples, my pretty" says this bug.

"WELL, I think we ladies already fell for THAT trick once. Maybe if you were like, George Clooney and you told me to I might think about it. Instead, I'll have more smores and wine to drown out your awful bug face and crunchy yet slimy looking legs", says I.

"I hate you", we mutually agree.

...Besides something that probably wants to crawl into my ear so that it can inject its mind control serum into my brain, before it dries up into a pod, eventually taking over person after person until it reaches the Oprah, completing its domination of earth and starts hunting people until we're all a hybrid of alien nymphs reading coming of age book after coming of age book and the world as we know it ends...

I'm wondering if it has a scientific name, besides Satan as my friend, Amber suggested on the foozebook. For now, I'll call it Jeff Goldblum, but I need to know why this thing is living in Canada, where we like it cold because minus a bajillion degrees tends to ensure that we never, EVER, E V ER see things like this when we are blissfully jumping around in the river during our 8 minutes of summer.

I think Jeff Goldblum here is a girl, though, from what I know of horrible, horrible horrible bugs. I think that death stinger thing on its arse is really an egg depositor, which is what I was extra careful not to touch because my Mom just told me that some bugs like burrowing into people's necks and the only way to get them off is to burn them with a cigarette. No other way will work. I think smoking sounds like a good idea right now, because I'm a little freaked out... but hey. This is the lady who raised me we're talking about. It's no wonder I'm a little jumpy and eyeballing that bottle of cooking wine in her pantry like this it's the last bottle of perrier in a Saharan dust storm.
Oh good, Neil was kind enough to read my body language and bring me the wine. My body language pretty much consists of me jumping into the air and actually slapping my mother when she told me a horrible, horrible earwig story on top of everything.

That Was The Week That Was

It started slowly. The huge, hulking, heavyweight boot of depression was haltingly moving down to squash me once again. Although 2010 was adding on new items for my menu of woes: my medical problems & medical bills from my visit with Deep Vein Thrombosis in April, followed by the Husband’s medical problems & medical bills for his lovely Dupuytren’s Contracture in June, mixed in with other debt, the Husband’s decision to leave his company to start doing design work on his own, my dog-Larry’s decline into late canine years, & the vision of the animals & people of the Gulf suffering because of Mankind’s greed. I still felt like I was dealing OK with issues that could depress anyone, especially a guy who is officially swallowed up with bouts of clinical depression. I have a little help from, of course, an antidepressant, & a anti-anxiety pill (for the barrage of needles I face every week).



Because it has been the Husband’s wish that I not worry so much (I am a life long worrier), & as an act of self salvation, I had started to meditate, along with medicate, I felt some impunity for my efforts.


Yet, on Sunday, July 11th, the dark boot stomped me into the ground & I was shrouded & squelched, & dropkicked by the dark boot. WCK3 & the Husband left me alone to wallow in the Boys’ Fort. I waved off any company or comfort & retreated to a a bottle of tequila & my tears. An hour later, with a short nod to my spouse & house guest, I went to bed & covered my head with the smart & stylish duvet cover.

I felt my eyes roll back in my head & my body turn heavy, just as I heard the Husband’s phone ring, followed by a muffled conversation that sounded foreign & fretful. I sensed I should come to the surface. It was then that I recognized that I had allowed my misery to complicate & add to a very bad moment. The Husband had just been notified that his father had died.

I felt extraordinary remorse for having slipped away to the dark side, just when I was needed the most. I splashed psychic ice water on my face & soul & I did everything I could to comfort my Husband. He was deeply wounded, both grieving & dealing with the guilt of having not seen his father in the past few months. It had only been a few days since he had suggested to me that he needed to see his father, who was 6 hours away, a suggestion that I countered with: “there is no way that we can afford the time or the money for that trip”. I realized at that moment, that the time had come to have my figure represented in Madame Tussaud’s Hall of Shithead Husbands.


The Husband asked me not to go with him to the funeral, & who can blame him… I was already a walking, breathing human funeral. He explained that he would better for me to not cancel my assistant’s long planned vacation & that it would be a comfort for him to know that the house & dogs would be taken care of while he was away. I accepted this explanation as logical, not remembering that we were not in a logical moment. As he & his daughter left to go to Spokane to face what is left of his family, deal with the business of death in the family, & stare down his grief, he touched me & looked in my eyes & stated: “I will have no one to hold onto". I was horrified to grasp that I should made this journey with him.


The Husband stayed with my parents, who love him (sometimes, I think more than me) & took care of him & accompanied him to the service.  After the funeral, he didn’t linger, & opted to drive all night to come home to his inept, selfish, but open hearted husband.