Planning for Fall...

Hey Y’all.




It’s already August and as we all know, Fall is right around the corner. Already, aside from planning my annual celebration of Michael Jackson’s birthday at the end of the month, I have begun trying to plan my look for the fall and winter months.
I do realize that the only time I go out is to go to dialysis, the grocery store or to the hospital, but I do always try to look my best, even if I’m dog sick.
I am trying desperately to rebuild the life I’ve lost due to my illness. Before I was stuck at home, babysitting my ailing father and writing stories to kill time, I did have a life.
I used to go out and have a group of friends and be happy.
Now, I’m never happy and have only one friend left in town as the others have moved away and started lives of their own.
And before I lose the last one as she’s in the process of establishing her career and life, I want to try to make something of myself. Get something for myself.
With dialysis as an overbearing monkey on my back, a lot of things have been eliminated. I can’t go to school or work a steady job because there’s no telling how I’ll feel once dialysis is over. I so rarely see other people. Unless they’re hooked up to a machine or hacking their lungs up in an emergency room.
But I plan to change that. I do know how important appearances are and how looks are everything. I figure I have a decent face, even if the body attached to it is in shambles. And if I could use my face to my advantage, perhaps I could meet a nice boyfriend. I know that if I have a boyfriend, he’ll have friends, and I can be friends with his friends, and get back into the social scene. Going places. Doing things. Having a good time again. It’s been such a long time since I’ve had a good time. Laughed and meant it. Smiled and meant it.
I want to be joyous and actually feel it. I feel nothing now but an ever-present, resentful dread at dialysis. Hating myself every second of every day for ever saying Yes to it.
The worst decision of my natural life. If you ever have the decision to have to take dialysis, make sure you have something to live for--boyfriend, husband, kids, job--before you say Yes. I didn’t and signed what semblance of life I had away. It’d be simpler and far less traumatic to die. Believe me.
Cheaper too.
So back to my fall look. I know people say to dress for the kind of job you want. I’m going to dress for the kind of man I want. I wouldn’t’ put any thought into myself if it weren’t for the idea that Mr. Right could be right around the corner and I don’t want to scare him off.
Sure I could sleep later in the mornings and forgo the make up and hair and clothing. Then I’d wind up with Mr. Wrong.
Ideally, I’d like a man who looks like Michael Jackson and while I wait for Hell to freeze over in the meantime, I want someone respectable.
Nice, working, God-fearing. Someone I would be proud to be on the arm of. And I can’t just look like anything and expect to attract him.
So my look for fall is more on the dressy casual edge. Maybe even slightly businesslike. Slacks, skirts, slim fitting sweaters and blazers are what I want to wear. I don’t even really want to put on jeans, unless they’re patterned or something.
I want to stand out from the pack. Look pretty to someone special. Brighter colors, but nothing clown-like of course. I’m going to make sure everything I slip onto my body does my figure favors and compliment my skin tone.
And for make up, I’ve noticed lately, I’ve been heavy-handed with my eyeshadow. So I’m going to lighten up. Still using eye-catching colors, but not so much. I don’t believe in a “natural” look, but I will do something to enhance my features.
Everything I’m going to do is to enhance Tiffeny and make her look as good as possible.
Whether you want to believe it or not, I don’t directly see myself as pretty or attractive. All I see when I look at myself is all my dialysis scars because they leap out at me as little silent, ugly reminders.
I use the cues I get from other people. If someone compliments me, I figure I’ve done something right. If I hear nothing, I regroup and try to make a better effort the next time out.
And really, I have all the time in the world to commit to it. Dialysis gets me for 9 hours out the week and the rest I have to baby-sit my dad. (Really I do!)
When I’m not writing my stories for the MJ club--my erotica thread has about twenty alone--,I’m up to my ears in fashion magazines, blogs and websites.
Hell, I even get emails straight from Rachel Zoe on trends!
I’m doing the best I can to try to be pleasant. And I will do everything I can.
Except wear orange lipstick. The fool that said that was a hot look needs to be carried in a rural field and shot a few times. I don’t want to look live I’ve Frenched a hunk of citrus.

Well, wish me luck, because how some general plot for war, I’m waging a bigger battle--trying to find love in a loveless world.
Till next blog!

Even In My Dreams...

Now I don’t know what y’all have been doing the last few days, but I know I have been literally glued to the news stations listening at anything and everything having to do with this odd Jacksons drama that has been unfolding. I mean between the family fighting like junkyard dogs, Paris Tweeting and Mrs. Jackson going “missing” it has made for spellbinding television. And usually, I am one to jump face first into anything having to do with the Jacksons.

But I think I wanna hold onto my opinions for the present. I still want at some point to meet Marlon Jackson. And I’d like for him to greet me with a handshake, not a punch to the nose. So all I’ll say is all the problems the family seems to be experiencing, I hope they can find some common ground and at least call a truce damn it. They’re the Jacksons for crying out loud. They’re classy. They’re not the fucking Kardashians. (Though we ALL know about TJ and Kim, and if you don’t, BING it!)

Back to my point of this blog post in the first place. Though I am still pretty damn steamed like a lobster about The Jackson Four cancelling their concert in Houston, I have been taking some time to work on my eroticas. And depending on the era I use for Michael, I go look to videos and photos for inspiration. So I’m kicking around Youtube and looking at different videos from the Jacksons around 1980-1981 and on the side a video of the Jacksons on their current Unity tour (isn’t it funny as all HELL that the tour is called UNITY and they’re coming apart at the seams?)

Anyway, I remember I looked at the video of the concert and happened to catch Jermaine singing an MJ song, and he wasn’t doing it true justice, though I applaud his effort. It was late so I quit watching the video and went to bed.

The Jacksons followed me to bed!



I had a really funny just random dream about the Jacksons. The way it started was my friend Ebonie showed up and was in kind of a tizzy, yelling that the Jacksons were at the local auditorium and to come meet them before they left. That Marlon was there! Of course, I set a land speed record getting there with my friend.

Up on this stage, handing out pictures and signing them, were Jermaine, Marlon and Tito Jackson. (I don’t know where Jackie was)

I ran up onstage and snatched a photo and was holding it out for them to sign. I remember I wanted to get to Marlon first, but Jermaine prevented it. He had on his guitar for some reason and the damn neck of it was in the way.

I was pissed, and as Jermaine was scribbling on the picture, I told him I was mad they’d cancelled their show. Jermaine never looked at me, but did say he was sorry. That’s how I knew I was dreaming. I’ve never heard Jermaine Jackson apologize in my natural life.

I finally got around that damn guitar and hugged Marlon and Tito, happy to see them.

Yeah, I high-hatted Jermaine.

And that was kind of it, my friend and I in the parking lot admiring our autographs. It was weird.

Just something random I wanted to share. It stands out to me because I’m used to dreaming about MICHAEL, not his brothers at all, so it was kind of a new thing. But it was funny to me. I couldn’t get away from the Jacksons on TV and they’re in my dreams now! Wonder if anymore will appear tonight? Tito? Jackie? Randy? Ha-ha!

My Affair With Leslie Howard

Hey Y’all!


Publicity Photo of Leslie

Now before you go wagging your fingers and shaking your heads at me, I am not, I repeat NOT talking about “that kind” of affair. Everything about me is decent and I am respectable woman.

As many of you know, if you’ve kept up with my postings, I am a great fan of classic films. (Stuff made prior to 1970)

I wanted to speak about one of the many, many classic film actors that I’ve grown to love and be a fan of.

I first heard of the actor Leslie Howard when I first saw the film “Gone with the Wind” in which Leslie played his most notable role, as that of the refined, and elegant Mr. Ashley Wilkes, the object of affection to Vivien Leigh’s Scarlett O’ Hara.



I had never seen Leslie before, but had heard talk of him here and there in reference to the film. A few years ago, when I first saw GWTW, I had been reading the book, and in my mind I guess you could say I had a certain image of what Ashley Wilkes looked like. A tall, thin, fair man of course.

I remember when the film came on, I was sitting on the floor of my den, and watched the scene that introduced Ashley, at the Wilkes’ barbecue right before the outbreak of the Civil War.

I heard Scarlett say “Oh Ashley!” and wave and here came Leslie as Ashley, down the steps.

I kind of hate to admit it now, but at the time, I didn’t like him. He didn’t seem to fit the role. Everyone else looked how I imagined them. Scarlett, Melanie, Mammy (Hattie McDaniels) even Prissy (Butterfly McQueen)

Sure he was gangly and blonde but Leslie just didn’t look right. It wasn’t until I got the movie on DVD, I found out what the problem was.

At the age of 46 years old, he was entirely too old to have played Ashley who was only 21 at the start of the film. He was made up like a corpse, with a hair piece and what was left of his real hair had been bleached to death. I knew he was playing a part, but it was overkill on the poor man. (Also Leslie had never wanted to play Ashley in the first place. He only took the part after he was promised he could produce a film called “Intermezzo” featuring a young Ingrid Bergman)

Anyway, since Leslie was under so much crap, I really was distracted by what else was a wonderful and enriching performance that still move people over 70 years later.

The way I get into different stars is with the help of the Turner Classic Movies channel, usually when they play a film with a star I like.

That happened with Leslie.

One of my favorite actresses is Bette Davis. And I had heard that TCM was showing her first film called “Of Human Bondage” a British film based on a book. And Leslie happened to play her love interest in it.


In Of Human Bondage with Bette Davis.

Watching the film, I saw a bit of a different man. Not all made up, except for a limp as he played a man with a clubbed foot, it was a tour de force, and the more and more I watched this particular film, the more and more I began to realize how talented and brilliant Leslie was.

I found myself starting to like him more and more even though he looked nothing like the usual matinee idols I swooned over who were all dark haired and swarthy looking.

And in walks this pale, frail, tow-headed man and I’m hooked and kooky about him. Something about him just spoke to me. The thing I like about my fanhood of Leslie is that it wasn’t like my admiration of say, Jimmy Stewart or Johnny Weissmuller, which started on looks and evolved to their bodies of work as actors.

With Leslie, I was put off first by his looks and it was sheer talent he had that won me over.

And I wanted to learn as much as I could about Leslie Howard.

And it was in the search that was particularly heartbreaking for me. (No, he wasn’t gay or anything like that)

Aside from the untimely death of silent star Rudolph Valentino, I don’t quite think any film star’s death was as tragic as Leslie’s.

You see, Leslie was a native Brit, and in the late 1930s and early 1940s, if you know your history, World War Two was raging on with Hitler and the Nazi forces taking over the United Kingdom.

Well Leslie, as a film star was using his influence and raising money for war bonds was on his way to England to help.

The way wikipedia told it was that the Luftwaffe, Hitler’s special air forces, shot Leslie’s plane down thinking that the British Prime Minister Winston Churchill was aboard the plane and Leslie Howard perished in the crash.

I don’t even think his body was recovered. He was only FIFTY YEARS OLD for crying out loud. That’s not old at all. And I remember I just felt hurt and upset that he had to die in such a needless and heinous way. I don’t care if it was decades before I was even born. A death is a death, and a life was lost and it was just tragic and needless.

It made me admire Leslie even more because he gave his life trying to help his country, just like all the other boys in England and America and everyone who were Allies in the war.

(I am particularly well versed in all things about WW2 because my father, who is 85 years old, served in the war when he was young.)

I just wanted to take some time out of my day and a little space on my blog to talk about a performer who was a lovely actor and who means a lot to me because I draw so much from the performances I have seen him in.

I just wanted to share that.

And if you want to check out some of Leslie’s movies, here’s a few of my favorites:

*Gone with the Wind (best place to start!)

*Of Human Bondage (Bette Davis’ film debut)

*Pygmalion (the film Audrey Hepburn’s My Fair Lady is based upon--without the infernal singing!)

*The Painted Forest (with Bette Davis and Humphrey Bogart)

*Romeo and Juliet (with Norma Shearer)


Leslie Howard 1893-1943

　

I may do more blog posts like these because there really IS more to me than just Michael Jackson!

The Jacksons on Der Musikladen 1977! AWESOME!

I just had to share this! Michael's booty was AMAZING and the performance was wonderful!

Three Years Without Michael…

Today is June 25, 2012.



It has been a full three years since Michael Jackson went on home to God, and my heart is still broken. I honestly cannot believe three years have passed and the world has somehow continued to function--albeit riddled with wars and more crime than I ever heard of--without Michael in it.

It’s seemed like a hazy bad dream to me. These three years with out him. The world, my world, just not seem right without him.

Everyday of these last three years, I have always thought of him, always loved him, always prayed for him.

Today, three years after the second worst day of my life, only second to losing my mother it still hurts.

It still hurts me terribly and badly that Michael is gone. I loved Michael so much. And though I say it a lot, I do really mean it: Michael Jackson was my everything.
(He was so beautiful.)

Michael was truly the only thing that makes me happy. No matter how bad I feel, just playing Michael’s music or his videos for any length of time automatically perks me up.

I live for Michael.

With my life, I’ve often had to battle with the idea of my own mortality and people seem to be bothered when I say I would easily give my life up for Michael to come back.

I only matter to a handful of people, if that many, and Michael resonated with millions. If someone said I could give my life to him, I really would. It would be my gift to the world.

But since I can’t, I’ve made everyday like an ever-running tribute to Michael Jackson. He deserves it and I love doing it.



I’m always writing and sharing short stories about him. Playing his music and watching his videos. He is never far from my mind and I prefer it that way.

Now that June 25 has come back around, I am going all out making the entire day an MJ Day.

I don’t care really what the music stations play, or the video stations, I’ll craft my own Michael Day. And if it takes too long, I’ll stretch it out for the week. Already, it’s a little after 8:30 in the morning. I haven’t even had breakfast yet, but I’m starting to play ALL of Michael’s music videos. I’ve got the Visionary set and will be playing all the videos. And when that’s over, I might play a concert and then some of Michael’s TV performances. It’s all how the mood strikes me and I have about maybe 50 MJ DVDs.


Plus I know I can commemorate Michael’s life a hell of a lot better than some stupid, generic TV station like BET or MTV. If I owned a TV station, I’d block out the entire week 2 times a year---the weeks of June 25 and August 29--and make them about Michael.

It makes me feel good to celebrate Michael’s life.

It was a wonderful life and I am glad to have come along and love Michael during the last 15 years of Michael’s life. Even though 15 years sounds like a lot, it’s still not enough for me. I wish he had been here longer.

But I will continue to be a Michael Jackson fan until God calls me home. That’s the vow I made to Michael every June 25. Just because he is gone doesn’t mean he cannot live on.

And even if I end up being the last MJ fan walking the Earth, I will.

I miss Michael everyday and wish he were still here.

I always will miss him because a piece of me if missing without him here.


I MISS YOU MICHAEL!

A Star Is Born

I keep telling you that there is more to me than just Michael Jackson. Some people think I just live and breathe for Michael, never coming out from his crystal adorned aura. That I suffocate myself with moonwalks and crotch grabs. But that’s not true.

I believe I mentioned before that I have a penchant for, love and appreciate classic old films.


One of the films that I loved to see was A Star Is Born, first released in 1937 and starring Janet Gaynor. I first watched A Star is Born, because I loved Janet Gaynor, but only knew her from silent films. (My favorite silent of all time, “Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans” stars her and I cry each time I watch it.I also loved her in Street Angel and Seventh Heaven--a film, not the TV show) But I had never heard Janet in a talkie. I had never heard her voice, can you imagine that?

A Star is Born tells the story of Vicki Lester, once a small town girl, rapidly making her way to superstardom as a Hollywood actress. In the film, Vicki even marries troubled matinee idol, Norman Maine. Eventually, Vicki begins to outperform her husband, becoming a major box office draw, whilst Norman career is slowing to a snails pace.

Eventually, due to constantly being in a drunken stupor, Norman becomes a has-been and no one really remembers who he is.

It all culminates in Norman committing suicide.

I really do love the 1937 version of Star, but I have also seen the 1954 remake starring none other than songstress, Judy Garland.



I have seen it twice and while I LOVE LOVE LOVE Judy Garland,

It is not one of my favorite performances from her. You see, Judy’s version of the film is made into a musical. And while the singing from Judy is absolutely wonderful, it kind of takes away from the serious subject matter in which the film covers.

Judy was supposed to have made the film in 1942, but her current studio executives thought it was too serious for her. It wasn’t until she switches studios, that she was able to make the film and use it as a vehicle to a comeback after waning popularity and a string of movies with buddy, Mickey Rooney.

Judy Garland’s performance is beautiful and heart tugging, just as Janet Gaynor’s way 17 years earlier.

The thing for me is, I guess I’m spoiled The moment Just opens her mouth to start warbling, she transforms back into her most notable role for me.



Dorothy Gale in The Wizard of Oz. Judy will always be endeared to me as this character. I don’t care what film I see her in, what she’s singing, she beomes a wide-eyed, fresh-faced 16 year old in a gingham dress.

And I am transformed back to a little chubby-cheeked 6 year old from when I first saw the picture.

That’s a strong memory to let go of .

With Janet, it’s different. I can watch her morph from role to role, but I have Judy pigeon-holed unfortunately.

I would suggest a first timer to watch the Janet Gaynor version first, but really, either version a person decided to watch is a great film, the way it goes. Check it out. You’ll be happy you did!

A Tremendous Disappointment

Hey Y’all,

I know for the last few weeks, I have been chattering incessantly about the Jacksons concert in Houston. Well, as of now you will NOT be hearing me refer to that show any longer. I found out this morning that it has been cancelled. I am greatly disappointed and hurt to learn this after waiting so long and planning so much. Seven shows so far have been cancelled, and they might as well cancel them all.

That’s all I have to say about that.