And now for something completely different.

Women at work.

The doppelganger.

It's been two years, so I guess she made an impression (he typed with a playfully sarcastic smirk).

I recently spent a day cruising throughout the city, something related to my job, when on the streetcar I saw her.

...Wait. No. But she could have been her sister.

The asymetrically cut, short blonde hair. The huge, dark sunglasses. The slightly zoftig, womanly bod. An apple butt. Her round face. The tattoos. Even the freeflowing print sundress and the way she smiled in my direction as I looked upon her.

And, as a coup de grace, the fact that she was queer. I hadn't noticed her partner, but as she left the streetcar, the sensual kiss that she gave the delightfully geeky, close-cropped brunette with horn-rimmed eyeglasses as they parted for the day.

Her entire image, her entire vibe, was Shayne.

Yeah, it's been two years. And yeah, she's in an entirely different life and world now, and I heartfelt-mean-it when I say, "Hey baby, go you."

Maybe I shouldn't miss her so much. After all, it's also true that had her moments of being utterly arrogant, condescending, closed-minded, and petty. She broke a pretty important promise and, true to form, found a way to justify it to herself to do so. I should probably be pretty pissed.

But, you know, one difference we have is that I'm not really one to amputate a limb just because I found that the ring I was wearing didn't completely work for my ensemble. Part of the intimacy that we shared was how I watched her suffer, deeply, with how she wrestled with her sense of identity, path, and voice in the world. Perhaps it was because of how she suffered and struggled, not despite of it, that I initially began to fall for her. And it would have been idyllic for me to simply remain as a friend and soundingboard for her in her life.

And all these thoughts came rushing back into me this past week when I saw that lookalike on the street, rushing back like a heavy wave that had long been back out to sea.

It makes me smile to feel the tightness in my chest still, to know that to see her virtual sister as a passerby make me stop, gaze, and remember. Like it was yesterday.

Yeah. I love and miss you, Pix. Still. And I'm ok with admitting it. Still. Yeah, yeah, I know I "shouldn't." All that get-over-it (whatever) and go-forward (I have) and giving-you-power (yeah, you wish) crap. Fine. Just call me crazy.

(The return of) Sunday comics.

Just once.

Please, God. Just once. Just... once.

Just once, I want to see some politician stand before a crowd of exquisitely-groomed, jostling, shutter-snapping media hounds, tap a finger into a microphone, adjust his tie, and not blink as he says something like this:

"There's been a lot of interest lately concerning some photographs that have recently appeared over the internet. I'm here before you this afternoon to clarify my position, and it is my intention to complete this matter with today's press conference.

"We live in a world where electronic devices of all kinds have become a staple for all levels of communication. People from all walks of life, in every profession, from every social class use such devices for reasons related to business and elements within our personal lives. Of course, most professional people endeavor to keep communications related to business and personal matters apart from one another out of professional courtesy and social protocol. But in a free society, we would certainly not expect an individual to use different, separate devices for different levels of communication.

"As an elected official, as a professional, I certainly share that endeavor to discretion. I expect that most, if not all, of you do as well.

"However, this does not mean, and again I am certain that most people will agree, that elected or other professional people are thereby expected to refrain entirely from non-business-related communications, or activities in one's personal life, by rule of their professional roles.

"Yes. I used my device to take a picture of my dick. Yes. I forwarded that picture to someone that I was pursuing in my personal life.

"Now... so what?

"What possible relevance or relationship would such a thing have to my successful service as your representative? Do the people of the great state of [insert name] truly believe or expect that their representatives live the lives of celibate monks? Certainly not."

The shutters click, the jostling becomes more aggressive. An audible gasp. A blonde reporter from a conservative media conglomerate widens both her mouth and eyes. She stares at the politician and blurts into her padded microphone.

"But sir! Don't you believe that the voting public has a right to know about your infidelities? Don't you agree that such infidelity can only demonstrate that an official such as yourself can't be trusted to ensure what's best for society?"

Almost imperceptively, the throng leans slightly forward. The politician sips water from a crystal tumbler. He pauses, and points a finger in the reporter's direction.

"You're crazy," he replies.

"If, and again I say "if," my actions constitute an infidelity, that is a family matter between my spouse and myself. It is high time for Americans to acknowledge that personal relationships are not homogenous, that not every family in this country is necessarily monogamous and heterosexual.

"Now, I will say that in my case, it may be, and yes, there may also be matters to be discussed between myself and my wife. But I will stress that such things are not the privy of the media or the general public and, in my case, will not be the subject of discussion in further press conferences.

"Canadian Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau once said that the "state has no place in the bedrooms of the nation," and I believe that it is high time that Americans took that advice to heart not only for its citizens, but for those who tirelessly serve within its ranks. Further, I will add that if the people of the great state of [insert name] disagree, that they will judge me based on this private matter rather than my consistent service record to create jobs, protect the environment, and general improve life for everyone whom I'm privileged to represent, then they don't deserve me as their elected official.

"Thank you. This subject is closed. Can we all grow up now and proceed to relevant issues concerning our government?"



But no.

A word from the management of UrbanRoguery, Ltd.

I know. I know. It's been a while.

To longterm, avid readers of the blog, I do apologize.

I write to you from an internet cafe at the intersection of Dufferin and Bloor in the heart of Toronto. I've been tinkering on my alter ego's Facebook, OkCupid, and catching up on other email as I drain my cup from the Tim Horton's around the corner. It's quiet in here. I'm one of seven people, all tapping quietly as they do whatever it is they're doing. The blonde wearing headphones and holding her chin in her fist as she scrolls on some Tumblr. The longhaired brunette, bent over the keyboard in a way that would make a chiropractor wince, working on some paper for some class at whatever university she's attending.

For some time now, the blog has been nothing but themed nudes, and as much as I (and you, let's face it) enjoy such things, I really hadn't intended for this to just become about a series of nekkid pics. They were all pre-programmed, you see, in case I had long stints of silence on the blog for whatever reason.

And, uh, there's been a really long stint.

Add to the fact that I've had consistent problems with puters for way too long now, but my Real Life world went into utter chaos for over a year. Long story, and no, I'm not going to trouble you with details. Let's just say that the recession kicked my ass for a while, and after a legal battle with some people who thought they could pull one over on me, I'm just beginning to claw my way out of the bog I found myself in.

This is good.

But it also played hell on my dating life. Hard to show someone a good time when you're worried about making the rent. Not that I suddently became a Benedictine monk or anything; there were still some interesting experiences and delicious (and not so delicious) trysts... and I'm sure I'll get to all that in time.

But I wanted you guys to know that I'm still alive and hope to contributing more to the blog soon now. And hopefully with some snazzy new computer that I may actually be able to afford to get now that my world seems to be returning to some semblance of normal.

Hi again. I've missed you too.