Hey! I used to Blog! (Formerly titled F*gs, C%#ts, and A$$holes)

Apparently, the GoogleLords have saved my earnest late aughts scribblings for posterity! Who would have thought it only would take a mid-tier lawyer and vengeful ex-spouse (referenced here as my "amazing boyfriend") to scrub from the interwebs the painstakingly curated (and monetized) website of original photography and prose that I edited for nearly a decade hence? And I thought being left for the Blessed Virgin Mary was my life's ironic height! Clearly, there are many more stories to be told from the last 15 years-though few that wouldn't trigger a lawsuit. So, while I find a way to reclaim my personal narrative that doesn't endanger litigation, please enjoy this unpublished diatribe from 2008, with the knowledge that Starr Faithfull can still keep bouncing back. спасибо to loyal fans!

So, as is often the case, one of my bosses felt the need to apologize to me for his general jackassery. Actually he apologizes for what was apparently (to him) a verbal misstep that I found "offensive". He apologizes for using "un-PC" language. He never apologizes for being an idiot. That is what I find is most offensive. It started when he was bitching about a client that was withholding payment. He likes to tell stories about how he has been wronged in front of my office, because I'm the only person in the office that doesn't just walk away when he's mid-sentence. , "...so Fag Jack (notices my raised eyebrow) that's an old term we used to use, calls me back and..." Fearful of being judged, he says more or less disingenuously , "Sorry, I guess it's not 'politically correct' to call people 'fags' anymore." First of all, if you're tossing around terms like "politically correct", chances are good that you are not sorry about what you say one damn bit. (PS. That also goes for "telling it like it is." Make no mistake, you "tell it like an asshole.") Second of all, "anymore"? ANYMORE? When was it any sort of "correct" to use the term fag as an insult. If it's your aim is to portray yourself as a homophobic, possibly violent, jerk-off, fag yourself silly. If you merely are trying to make whimsical alliteration...maybe try "furry" or "fancy" Now here's the point I can never get across to the Reverend cum Salesman. I don't give a shit what you say about whom. You can sit there and tell me that you moisturize your face with fetuses that you hand-aborted from their immigrant, welfare-addicted, crack-riddled mothers. Whatever, you have that right. I also have the right to tell you that you're crazy, or gross or just stupid. Or raise my eyebrow in a similarly fashion. Don't fucking EXPLAIN to me what you "really meant" by calling somebody a fag who has nothing to do with disco or glitter. But he does...belaboring the point being his favorite activity. I point out that "fag" carries with it a bit of aggressive baggage. Kind of like "cunt". Again, we're talking context: both terms can be laden with as much honey as vile invective, depending on who's doing the talking. And again, I point out, I'm not asking for censorship... say whatever, but don't ask me to validate your opinions. That's ALL. I enjoy his boorishness actually. It makes me feel alive. It alway ends the same way. With him looking at the ground and saying, "I'll try to be more 'sensitive' around you. I'm very sorry." And each time I resolve never to even acknowledge his diatribes.

More Health Care Reform Fury

As someone who buys her own insurance, I must stare into the face of the most blatant sex discrimination I have ever encountered personally. This is not hyperbole, and it *is* saying a lot when you considering my MadMen-era work environment.Nearly all plans from private insurers charge me 100% more than a man my age (30) and will do so until I am in my 40s. Few will cover birth control, and fewer still will cover abortion. If I become pregnant, I will need to pay out of pocket for all the attendant care (+/- $10K) or have the foresight to get a "pregnancy rider" on my insurance that will levy an additional $100 onto my premium raising my rate to nearly 200% more than a man my same age. Again, this is not just one insurance company, this is par for the course on all the companies I have reviewed and engaged: BC/BS, Golden Rule, United Healthcare, State Farm, and a variety of local providers.

As my premiums go up an average of 20% a year, I can't escape the feeling that I am emptying my pocketbook to an industry that, for all intents and purposes, punishes me for my sex and for my sexuality.

The Stupak-Pitts Amendment reinforces this divide between the sexes in health care, saying effectively to men, "You don't have anything to worry about until it's time for. Have fun and keep the change!" and to women, "Watch it now! That machinery between your legs is expensive and dangerous and if you can't handle it the right way, that's on you. The right way being... don't ever have sex." This is thinking that was embarrassingly obsolete in the 20th century and certainly has no place in the 21st century.

An American in America

I made it through another winter! I went to the gym until my sciatica started acting up, paid down my debt ($2000 more to go!), grew my hair long, took naughty pictures and decided to move in with my boyfriend.

Happy New Year! (Well, soon, I hope)

I decided to hibernate for the winter. Because it is truly, truly awful here. There is snow EVERYWHERE and my nose hairs freeze as soon as I go outside. I can't walk anywhere... the sidewalks are all ice and punctuated by 4 foot snowbanks that I have to CLIMB over. Literal- fucking-HOISTING of my person.

In order to make it all bearable,I had decided to cocoon myself until the snow melts. My life has been down right ascetic since Thanksgiving: strict budgeting, nose-to-the-grindstone working, healthful eating, cleaning, circadian-rhythm keeping.

I haven't been to a bar in 3 months. I've taken up knitting. I make lists. I dust. I save.

Well, okay, maybe "ascetic" is exactly the right word. But I consider regular indulging in and of my boyfriend to be vital to my physical and spiritual health.

I want Spring to hurry up so I can show off my shiny new self. And to walk wherever my feet want to take me.

Tasty Fugitive Caught, Eaten

Rockford, IL-- A nationwide manhunt came to a tragic end this morning as notoriously delicious Orlando Lebkuchen popularly know as the "Gingerbread Man" was found dead, a result of what police surmise to be a gang-related execution. Lebkuchen, 25, was a native of Rockford and attended Rockford East High School for two years. Neighborhood residents say that as early as age 6 he was already a runner for the neighborhood's spice dealers. Neighbor Lucille Johnson remembers, "You always knew when he was around [because] he smelled real good! I tell them to get that baby off the street, but, you know, they liked him [because] he was so fast!" Lebkuchen's ability to evade police and rival dealers became legendary. His signature aroma and peppermint buttons led him to be dubbed, "The Gingerbread Man".

Following a conviction in 2002 for possession of 40 kg of nutmeg and weapons charges, Lebkuchen began his life on the lam, working for a time at the Keebler factory in Milwaukee and for a Pepperidge Farm distributorship in Alabama. Madison police would often receive missives from the fugitive sprinkled with cinnamon with the words, "You can't catch me! I'm the Gingerbread Man" scrawled in chocolate. Carjackings and armed Buddy Squirrel robberies led to arrest warrants throughout the South and Midwest, caused the FBI to become involved in 2005.

In May 2007, Lebkuchen's aunt had become diagnosed with a rare form of oral cancer. Police were kept on high alert for his possible reappearance.

Early this morning, a man walking his dog on East Washington Avenue happened upon what appeared to be a body partially dismembered and stuffed in a plastic bag. Authorities identified the body as that of Lebkuchen. The cause of death has yet to be determined. There is speculation that Lebkuchen was killed by rival gang members for still unsolved 2001 rolling-pin bludgeoning of Anton "Teddygraham" Ramirez.

Times Square 1970