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leequeza78
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Name: lee
Birthday: 7/16/1978
Gender: Male
Interests: I'll try most anything once, even if it may not necesarily be the best decision, I figure I'd rather try and know rather than assume and never know.
My most favoritest (not a word huh :) ) quotes are:
"If we stand tall it is because we stand on the backs of those who came before us"
- Yoruba Proverb
"BE THE CHANGE YOU WANT TO SEE!"
- Ghandi
"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate, but that we are powerful beyond measure."
- Nelson Mandela
Expertise: art art art...most anything related to the arts like music, dance, poetry, sculpture, especially painting! Gotta pay the bills so I'm a computer drawer, as my sisters affectionately call me.
Occupation: Computer related
Industry: Art
Message: message meEmail: email me
Member Since:
5/11/2004
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| I know it's been a while and i'm not sure who is even on this bad boy still, but I've rediscovered xanga and didnt even realize i still had my account. So much to my amazement and eventual shock, i was able to access my old account AND read my past enteries...whoah....can i say drama king. Anyways. Give me a shoutout to see who is still on this or if this is but a barren social networking graveyard like friendster and myspace. Whoot! In any case Immmmm BBBAAAAACCCCKKK!!! | | |
| Hey all, sorry for not updating in a long long while, but here is something that has taken up at least 6 months of that hiatus. Hope all is well. So here is bit of an explanation:
After 6 months which included an AWESOME team of account executives, copy writers, BRILLIANT flash programmers, brand strategists, production artists and one little brown designer, I am so very proud to present my first project, THE MAKESHIFTERS!!! Please check it out and explore...and it's not a bad contest if I might add :) Enjoy guys and thanks for the support!
http://www.makeshifters.com | | |
| i love the piano man by billy joel....you can almost smell the beer on his lips, see the spray, the dimly lit bar, the aged mahogany finish, warm, stuffy and loose, drunks, suits and sluts. "sharing a drink they call loneliness", heavy lids with distant gazes, the melody carries them into the night. the eb and flow, warm kisses against burgundy stained glasses, auburn and dark, they drink to forget and listen to remember. i see fingers clasping hope and hips swaying to the promise of the possibilities of tomorrow, but now, at this moment, as the day slowly fades to a distant memory, they are free. free to sing, to speak, to forget and to laugh. across the room, eyes glisten, tears sparkle and glasses shine. the crowd vibrates, solidarity and comradery take hold, erupting in a grand spectacle of intoxicated revelry.
salud | | |
| soap suds and somethin else
sitting in sit n spins patio, some girl asked me if my blue eyes were real, which of course I responded yes and proceeded to explain that I get that question all the time and attribute all to my costa rican background.....well, ok, i'm lying. she did ask me, I did say no, then continued to talk about her corsican background, her inability to find time to fire dance, and how 78 hours a week simply isn't cutting it. I respond each time, with "right", "oh really" and "ohhhh reeeeallly". always good filler responses for times when company is needed but when conversation has dissolved into "small talk" or the equivalent of white noise. In any case during our conversation she asked if I was a "regular" and sadly after about 2.5 seconds, I responded with an uneasy "yah, I guess". so does that mean that I have truly slid into the domesticated realms of the middle-age gay male. seeing as that years back i thought i would have been a "regular" at uber galleries and slick bars, I've slid past "a" status, rocketed over "c" and have unknowingly settled into "q" class. is there even a "q" class??? damn it. transfering my clothes from the washer, i begrudingly accepted my status, set the time and pressed "dry".
day dreaming
when i have alone time, which is far less frequent since i've moved to the gay ghetto, i tend to have daydreams. these mini fantasies, normally revolve around me responding to a series of questions for a magazine like interview, coming home to an empty studion after an awards banquet or slow dancing in the hallway with my husband. i know tragic, huh. anyways my newest mind fuck paints a picture of a sunny day, breakfast on a wooden deck, orange juice, fresh ground coffee, loving glances over newspapers, petting dogs with a spattering of kisses throughout.
less than
lately i've been thinking about all the "what ifs" and more specifically the what ifs concerning past relationships. what if we stayed together? what if we were celebrating our 6th anniversary rather than my 6th year of single hood. what if we worked harder, loved stronger, compromised more. in the grand scheme of things, i undertand that things are the way they are for a reason and that the past is the past. never one to take things lightly, these questions lead me into a myriad of scenarios that i'd rather not bore you with or more accurately, scare you with, but i can't help but wonder what if. if only what ifs somehow added up to an "is", like some sort of romantical equation of two negatives becoming a positive, I would soooo be in the "greater than".
the contestants....kinda
i went to charles schwab to switch over some accounts and met a handsome financial advisor. like any good gay man, i quickly assesed the situation, metro striped shirt, delicate handling of paperwork, finely groomed, and the clincher, a turquoise ring on the pinky of the left hand. Happa, believe me i know these things, about late 20s early 30s, about 5, 10, 150, approachable, solid tone in his voice, strong hands, which trembled a bit when he handed it to me, and most importantly, nice. yah i could attribute it to the whole customer relations thing, but i'd rather ride my wave of delusions for as long as I can. incidently, i've come to see the importance of financial guidance and will be sure to be visiting my baby..umm financial advisor, more frequently. :)
a few weeks ago i was walking home and passed a handsome latino guy. machismo soaked, with confidence to spare, he took each step as if claiming the very ground it touched, arms solid, golden. i noticed him first, looking down, a moment of reprieve, unaffected, real, he lifted his head, slightly cocked to the right, we locked eyes. the shroud of vulnerabiltiy fell, replaced by the armor of a well seasoned vet, a practiced smile appeared on the corner of his mouth, eyes dark and penetrating, an eyebrow slightly arched, a full arsenal of tricks, a walking tank of smoothness. two steps away, we were in each others sights, blood surging, mouth pursed, eyes locked, one step away, countdown, 3, 2,1... misfire. I continued walking, gave one last look back, as did he and continued on.
he speaks to me intently. i listen just the same. I like the sound of his voice. he is well spoken, enunciating each word for effect, almost as if making a statement of education and maturity. the speaker blaring, bodies in various states of dance, we stand still atop the stairs, like romeo and juliet above the ball, unimpressed and seaking solitude from the masses. he speaks quickly, responds to my sarcasm with just the right amount of affecation. we only share passing glances throughout the conversation, never committing, yet never wanting to stay silent. he is the boy with the sharp eyes.
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"first time is always the hardest..."
ok, fine...and something uplifting, too....blah damn optomists :T
"romantical notions of fantastical proportions" or "unjaded"
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