"Physical attraction didn't explain why every time she happened upon Amelia unexpectedly, Caton felt her mouth go dry, her heart race and the immediate desire to find something to say that would make Amelia see her as less of a burden." If ever a sentence spoke to how it can feel when you first start to like someone you know you shouldn't, this may be it. What begins as a "senseless attraction" for Caton, hired to assist wealthy Amelia Halston in her charity functions, slowly escalates to something much more, even if that "much more" is more sexual than anything else and is, sometimes, just a little too disturbing.

In the early stages of their awkward working relationship (though I use the term "working" very loosely) Caton (to her credit) tries (oh boy, does she try!) to resist her feelings by using "civil avoidance," a term that perfectly describes how she tactfully and politely avoids her boss whenever possible. Amelia, on her end, is often nothing more than a "gaping void of nothingness that often stared back at her." She strikes when she wants to, but makes it seem as if her interest in Caton is merely accidental.

When Caton and Amelia meet, both women are already involved with other people, which makes the whole infidelity aspect a huge detractor for anyone who likes their love stories free of innocent victims. Riley LaShea wisely chooses to have Laura (Caton's girlriend) be a rather generic figure in the story, thereby taking some of the sting away from how Caton disregards her so quickly. Amelia's husband is (to put it mildly) a pompous jerk, who deserves no one's loyalty.

There is lots of connection (of the bedroom and "eyes meeting across the room" sort) and disconnection (between Amelia and her emotions) in Behind The Green Curtain and the amount of erotic interplay within the novel is a bit disconcerting for anyone who prefers their romance more emotional and less full of power plays and dramatic denials.

The writing is so crisp it's almost too much so, to the point that if not for the sudden injection of love and romance in the last fourth of the novel, it would be cynical more than anything else. I guess what kept me reading and reading some more (putting this book aside was rather hard) is how easy it is to relate to Caton and the roller coaster of emotions she experiences.

Is there any point in writing something online no one reads? Probably not. But if you know no one's reading and you still want the somewhat safe illusion someone is, what's the harm in pouring your heart out? If you have an audience of zero, is there anything to be feared or lost when writing something deeply personal that you'd rather no one else know?

There are days when it takes all my self control not to tell this certain person how much I like her. It's not that it would matter, but that it's an actual compulsion inside me I have to sometimes fight, like the urge to break out into a musical number when you know that would just be strange and out of place. Part of me thinks she would hate knowing I like her, the other part knows she wouldn't care either way. 

The first day we met I had such hopes we'd at least get to be co-workers that got along well, if not friends. Now, I know differently. Now, I behave differently. 

With most people I am fine, if a bit too goofy and more chatty than I probably should be. With her, I am completely silent to the point of being rude. I am in such awe of her that it's like a stun gun hits me.

She is the epitome of poise and togetherness, so much so that if it weren't for this kindness that hides behind her eyes, you'd mistake her for aloof, maybe even cold. She's so the opposite of me and I wish I could carry on a conversation with her without turning red or stumbling over my words. 

I thought by now I'd be relaxed around her, but I'm not. She's a super-talented woman, but there's also something else I can't put my finger that makes her hard to dismiss.

Even when I was young, way before I suspected I might be gay, I had trouble talking with people I found fascinating. The more I liked someone (whether platonically or romantically) the more I retreated. At first I found it frustrating, but once I learned I had no poker face at all I realized it was a blessing in disguise.

I'm not really sure where I'm going with this. Maybe I just want it written somewhere (have it ripped out of my heart and mind, for even a second) so that I keep it hidden in plain sight and don't risk telling her one day. 

Sometimes we outgrow the music we love when we're young and sometimes it stays with us our whole lives. Over the years I've lost my passion for, say, Duran Duran, even though I still love "New Moon On Monday" and "Come Undone" (I will never not like "Come Undone." It is moody and deep and totally surrenders to the sensuality underscoring the song.)

But the Carpenters, specifically Karen's voice, will always be with me. I get Richard's genius with musical arrangements, I do, but his approach to music is almost too methodical. It was always, always, Karen's lovely register and heartfelt (if sometimes understated) commitment to song I loved more than anything and still do.

Maybe it's because her health started to decline around the same time, but I've always thought their best years were 1969-1973, which are the years covered in their best-selling Singles album. It's not that their later records didn't sound good ( Horizon, for instance, is just gorgeous, but it's saturated in a sadness that was present in its initial release and not a lingering association with Karen's tragic death.)

The Carpenters are still loved by many these days and their sound remains wonderful, but I always wondered if album covers like the one for Close To You did more harm than good in helping them be more respected in the music business. It's totally adorable in a completely dorky way, but it might have been one of the reasons it was uncool to admit you liked them in the 70s:

This article explores the pains and perks of being a Carpenters fan. I can't wait for the writer's book on this subject to be released:

read here



Hannibal, Season 1



It kind of worries me that I enjoy the cooking scenes so much on Hannibal, Season 1. I know, of course, that he's not really cooking human organs, but the implication is still there. 

The food preparation on the show is as much a part of it as anything else and I can't believe how compelling this show has become for me. Great writing, atmospheric production and strong characters make me continue watching, though I've heard the ratings for the second season are down considerably.

I saw this article on BuzzFeed and found it quite fascinating since it explores all things food related on Hannibal in much depth! :

read here: Hannibal Food Secrets

#thisiswholesome is Honey Maid's hashtag for their wonderful new commercial that includes a gay couple raising a family. The above picture is taken from their response to the many homophobic comments viewers sent them in the aftermath. Though the positive responses were ten times the amount of the hateful ones, Honey Maid still wanted to acknowledge the haters. So all the comments were printed out and rolled into tight cylinders that were used to spell out the word "love"...what a terrific way to fight the hate!

I especially like the use of "wholesome" since it's the exact opposite of what most anti-gay people believe to be true about us. In all the debate about gay rights and marriage the one thing that's bothered me is this: if being gay itself is seen as horrible and sinful, does it really matter if we're born that way or not? Haters are still going to hate. Until we eradicate the unseemliness that some insist on infusing gays and lesbians with, we will never make progress in this hot button issue.

I'll never forget something I read in The Geek Shall Inherit The Earth by Alexandra Robbins. One lesbian teen nterviewed for the book said that straight people get the benefit of being seen as in love while gays are only associated with the bedroom. Many of us who are gay or lesbian want to fall in love just like anyone else, want to raise a family with that someone special and grow old with them. What could be more wholesome than that?