I care because you dont....

Well, well, well….

  Sadly, it has been almost a year since I have posted a single Tourette to this blog.  A blog that was, among other things, purrittie popular with the ladies (mostly of illusion), the gents (most of whom I’ve dated, slept with, or wanted to- in a few cases again), and the random “googler” who accidentally happened upon my musings… but I am back.

I had become jaded.  I had grown really, really tired of people internalizing and taking personally the things that I would talk about.  In some instances, the music I would host and/or the videos I would post!  I had even changed the name of the blog from “I care because you don’t”, to “People take blogs so personally” before finally growing too annoyed to continue.  I decided to throw my hands up in the air, and ran screaming rape in the opposite direction.

In November of last year, just before Thanksgiving, I moved home to be with my mom.  Her cancer had decided to come out of retirement.  Performing its best Brett Favre, coming back just as we finally stopped caring and decided we didn’t want to see (it) again, (it) came back hungry for the limelight.  And the limelight it got.  On July 4^th, 2011, it finally made it into the Hall of Fame.  Finally won its Emmy.  Maybe the Tony, those are usually a little more dramatic.  In any case, my mom passed into the ether that day and my whole everything changed.  I went from the being the eldest child, to being too young to lose my mom, too young to understand why, and too young to live on without her.

As a result, I have spent the last 2 months living in a waking nightmare.  At least three times a day, I relive the last 12 hours, and the final conversations we had.  Sometimes, I think Hospice killed her.  Sometimes, as much help as they were, and as kind as they were to her, and all of us, I feel the Kevorkian treatment may have been more appropo.  But that is neither here nor there.  It wasn’t until I went to a memorial concert for Denise Ann Dales Jacobs (my mothers name was also Denise Ann), a writer, actress, singer, theatre and performing arts instructor, and all around ham on September 16^th, 2011, that I actually made the conscious effort to come out of my shell.  She had passed away one week after my mom did.  I use to go to her classes with my friend Amanda Scopin.  I was 19, usually stoned, and I would go sit in class with her while they stretched and danced, and she would often “force” me to participate.  It was because of the many chance encounters, and fate, that I made several of the friends that I still have today.  Friends that brought in other friends, bridged gaps between circles of other friends, and made my 6 degrees dip between 1 and 3.

 While talking to my delicious, and bubbalicious friend Jen, she brought up my blog, and how I used to be quite the savvy, social internet blog butterfly attention whore, and told me that I should start doing it again because she missed reading my posts.  And quite frankly, I missed them too.  I’ve always had my blog linked to both my Facebook, and Twitter accounts, as I have not always been so great about posting anything other than my blog to them, and in many ways this was how I stayed in touch with so many of my friends.  I think it is also worth mentioning that my Twitter has a very large drag queen following!  Why, you ask?  Couldn’t tell you, but I know that I love my queens, and my kings, my homos and hobos, my breeders and baiters, bitches and ho’s, the plaintiff’s and my lawyers (which I’ll get into once I delete all the non-associate piece of back stabbing shits from my Facebook and Twitter accts), all of my friends (and enemies) and any and every one I neglected to mention strictly because I drink far too much to remember every one :), but honestly, its high time I got back to pleasing you all. 

With all of this said, and should any of you hopefully still be reading, I think it prudent to note why I am back.  I am back to spoon feed you the newest, and or my most favoritest of songs out at the moment.  I am back to show you the most gratuitous gay porn clips when you least want to see them – should you want to at all.  I am back to post, and re-post , and re-re-re-post other things that people more clever and patient than I took the time to seek out. And to honestly not give a single, solitary fuck.

So without further ‘adieu’, this is dedicated to my mother Denise Ann Stinson, who loved listening to and reading the smartass things my blog had to say, and loved me impossibly every single day of our lives - even when I did not.  To Denise Ann Dales Jacobs, who was the primary catalyst (as if a precious “jem”) in helping me to form some of the most meaningful relationships I have ever known.  And to Jennifer Ramos Ricci Argh Jr., thank you for inspiring me to take back something that was wholly mine: my thoughts whether anyone wanted to hear them or not, my musical interests and tastes whether anyone remotely cared, and for reminding me that if you build it, they will come.

Thank you all for playing, but most importantly, I thank you and love you most mom.  Hope you enjoy the newest posts! :)

forever……