About the Blog
Teablogging.com is the immaculately conceived love-child of two friends separated by the Canada-United States border. Through the magic of the internets and its series of tubes that know no nationality, Mikey and Jordan are turning to this blog to stay connected, entertained and ever so slightly turned-on. We invite you to join us along the way and hope that you too will feel all these things.
Now you may be wondering about the name of this little project of ours. As a matter of full disclosure, you should know that our first choices were Trig, Apple and Bronx, but those were all taken. As we considered alternatives, it became clear that we needed something that would represent in a word all that this blog is about: friendship, love, closeness, perversion. And with that, like an epiphany that slaps you square on the cheek and makes you cry out, Teablogging was christened. After all, nothing says, "dude, you're my bro" like good old fashioned teabagging, but due to the distance between us, we're keeping our balls in our shorts and blogging.
About Mikey
This is me to the right. My name is Mikey. Well, it's actually Michael. But only old people call me that. And the lady behind the counter at the doctor's office. And my best friend Annie when I've said something shameful.
I like a bit of just about everything. Never the whole hog. Just a slice of every hind quarter. Moving away from the disgusting meat imagery, I love to watch and dissect movies. A little bit of Eternal Sunshine one minute, Mildred Pierce the next, and then My Best Friend's Wedding on repeat.
Music informs almost everything I do. I sometimes think there is a beat somewhere controlling my emotions. Not sure if it's Josh Ritter or Sugababes? Maybe it's the spaghettios I had for dinner the last three nights in a row.
The world is imagery. Each brushstroke of clouds a painting. Every shadow a dramatic swash of lighting design.
I like...hmmm...this is getting boring. Why don't I just let the "I like's" find their own way - or you can read my latest posts and see what I'm liking best this week. Jordan says I like "salsa and sour cream and making out." I can't disagree.
I come from the magical land of coastal Maine, where even lobsters have relatives in the house next door. I grew up in a wee town called Wiscasset, which, if you believe the tacky sign welcoming tourists, is the "Prettiest Village in Maine" -- tourists who flocked to the town every summer to wait hours in line at a shack called Red's Eats to gobble down grease disguised cleverly as semi-edible formations that slightly resembled food.
<--Seriously, that looks like my long intestine.
My best friend worked at Red's Eats like the trooper she is, bits of crab meat in her bangs. I worked at a snooty restaurant on the water trying not to drop knives on babies and avoiding the come-ons of an older suitor who brought me on our first date to the flea market. I'd say both restaurants were equal on the sucks-and-blows scale. At least Annie made friends. "Hi Gary!" (Picture someone yelling this with ice cream on their chin, in a decidedly retarded voice, and you'll get the gist of how brilliant Annie is)
Flash forward to college, and I'm living the life (or letting the life live me) in Montreal, where I accumulated an Honors BA, with majors in Cultural Studies and minors in Sociology and English Lit at McGill University (oh how I love thee). I like to namedrop all of that, because it's fun. And because I felt quite crafty creating my course schedule so that I could squeeze every drop out of the system, while others got one degree and probably worked 10 times as hard. Fun fact about McGill: they named their student building the Shatner Building, after William Shatner. Any school that names anything after William Shatner is genius (so what if Billy-boy dropped out). Not to mention my dorm first year was named Molson. Guess who sponsored our parties? "Oh, Canada" indeed!
Anywhoosiers, then my glory years of university deflated behind me, "like a flan in a cupboard" as Eddie Izzard would say. Fruitless soul searching, rinse and repeat. But I got an amazing opportunity to live with Annie for a year in an apartment in Portland, Maine. Every time I think of the place Vanessa Carlton's "White Houses" tinkles the piano in my mind (Wait, is that supposed to be "tickles"? One can't be too sure).
And, if I hadn't strayed course, I never would have met the one, the only, the fabulously fabulous Jordan. I caught his eye from across a room filled with binders at my job in Boston (where I moved after Maine....try to keep up). I thought he hated me, so I thought, "well, fine, I hate you too." But I didn't really. Turns out he's shy. And that he wuv-wuv-wuvs me. And I wuv-wuv-wuv him. Strictly platonic man lovin' of course. Though we do exchange a dirty text now and again.
Meandering back to Montreal. It's where I belong. Hands down (or up, you choose). That's why I weaseled my way back in with Permanent Residency Card in hand (it only took, say, a gazillion years to deal with all the paperwork, but who's counting)...
...and left the one, the only, the stupendouly stupendous Jordan behind. *Sniffle*
But we'll always have teablogging to keep us together. So, in short, here's blog. Straight from my mouth to yours.
About Jordan
He's working on it.