QHereKidSF @ 1/3-LIFE TRY!UMPH!!

UNDOING, Acrylic on Canvas
http://www.donald-rizzo.com

In an effort both to record for posterity the remnants of my once-was,  former social media profile presence and to update said presence with a spark of pizazz and pomposity, sycophantism and sophistry (as I might once have said before!), I am posting here my most recent yet previous profile as it has appeared on Facebook®, Google®, StumbleUpon®, and elsewhere.

As stated in closing, I do ever so much hope that my weblog visitors, fans, and followers do quite enjoy my writing. Recently, I have been receiving countless compliments – only out of common courtesy, of course! – with regards to the creativity and skill exhibited in my writing. I would just like those of you, who enjoy my poetry and prose, essays and extemporaneous elaborations upon the "thus, then, and therefore" of life, to know that really ... truly, I only write for you!

NO! I must say, I also write merely for the sheer peace of mind and cleansing of spirit I gain from this creative act of sharing. Thank you for your time and attention! Please view my updated Web2.0/Social Media presence profiles across the Web for an updated version of my poetically poised and personal biographical statement(s).

QHereKidSF @ 1/3-LIFE TRY!UMPH!! :
Mindflux | Matt(e)o | Mayhem! I am Man masked madly in mind's eye misgivings... The ubiquity of my ugliness is uncannily ulterior to my beauty beguiled, BeGODS!! Follow me for flagrantly unfettered, frenetic Fog City faggotry: garrulously salacious, in-your-face sycophantism and sophistry... You'll see! 

If by chance you get some crazed, cracked-out, masochistic satisfaction from strangely spiritual and surreal stories of misery, mayhem, and mutant monstrosity, then maybe I'm you're man! 

Meet ME, Matt(e)o: an evocative enunciation of sacred self. A "Gift from God" transposed as metaphysical motif by friend of the freak show, Fellini. This genius artist of Italian film-making struggled the length of his successfully storied career to expose, with astonishing exactitude, just how the very real possibility of perfection in Man is both fomented and fouled by the assertion and empowerment of an intimately equal mutualism between the divinely spiritual self and the meaningfully rational mind. This symbiotic melding of mind and spirit is represented by Fellini, in his film: La Strada, as the hopefully heaven-sent, high-wired equipoise of the fervently surefooted funambule: IL MATTO, who, when faced with danger, still dares to dance across a wire: ... ses doubles deboulés et son demi detourné, son seul somptueux soubresaut et ses battements développés. Puis jusqu'alors un ronde de jambe en dedans à la seconde fut souvent suivé d'un grand jeté en arrière; le Danseur Noble s'avance d'ici alors sur son fil, sans fierté blessé, avec d'une Arabesque en avant profondement penchée. Ces mouvements jusqu'ici ensuite se terminèrent d'un tremblement tout d'un coup des tours en l'air tombés ... Thus by tiptoeing so far from safety, toward the still bent, sunken, shaky, and unstable center of a wrought-iron, steel-corded risen rope, Fellini's funambule: IL MATTO, arouses such admiration, adulation, and affection from adoring fans, so as to inspire both the impassioned blossoming – in life! – and confounded crippling – in death! – of the purely innocent and naive, child-like mind. Consequently, I recognize symbolically resolute similarities and viscerally physical, real world differences between Fellini's representation of the metaphysical circus sideshow motif and my own efforts toward a more life-affirming reappropriation and realization of its meaning. As an Existential Nihilist (circa, La Strada), Fellini's obviously Freudian depiction of the psycho-spiritually multifaceted nature of Man culminated, not in possible fulfillment of his perfection, but instead in necessary realization of his corrosively calamitous demise. Contrarily, I aim to imbue the motif with an sense of urgently redemptive realism, through my own true-to-life, plain-as-day pursuits of a real-world psycho-social and spiritual sublimation of self. In this way, I see myself as one "Fagged-Out Ferocious Fog City Funambule Freak Show!" "IL MATTO" Matt(e)o, I like to call myself (cf., La Strada), as I conspicuously struggle to disempower and negate – through hope! – the nihilistic severity with which the existentialist cinematic artist ultimately confounds and curtails all possibility of perfection for Man.  

Gladly here, you will find one who can mesmerize the mind through his miraculous high-wire balance of benevolence & beatitude with damned near dastardly destruction, disfigurement, devotion & betrayal. 

Be touched tenderly here by the thoughtful “thus, then and therefores” that define the tumultuous, telling themes of my leftover, last chance life: Sanity, Sacrifice, Supplication & Serenity which spark our smiles! 

Sadly here, I reveal myself disfigured like a disgruntled, dirty dog. I'm doomed to die dismally destitute & destroyed! Despite that, I am devoutly determined to do deeds of damned near divine good. 

Remember my resounding recompense & reward for the very real ruination & ripping apart of my former, fabled beauty. No mockery, please! This mindflux needs no more mayhem! 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It just so happens... that this happy, home-bodied, head-spun homo aches for adventure outside of his squarely sparse and sterile, single-room studio. So much for the serenity of solitary!

I seek sure-fire ways to share in smiles! Feel-good, friendly encounters with compassionate, courageous young people who prefer spontaneity over structure, giggles to groans, wild, raucous, truly treasured adventures over lay-low, stay-at-home, humdrum, twiddle-your-thumb tragedies of time ill-spent and spoiled.

Oh to the brave, emboldened high-wire hopefuls who dare a single step onto my sky-high shaky string: Strength in Numbers! Hold the net for he who fumbles and fear not for this Fagged-out, Fog City Funambule Freak Show! as he falls a few steps forward.

In faith of friendships, past, present & so surely set to come...

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

AIDS IS A PERVASIVE PANDEMIC THAT BLEEDS THRU
THE LINES OF COLOR, CREED & CAPITULATES TO NO
ONE, BUT THE POSITIVELY AWARE AND
PREVENTION-MINDED SURVIVORS.
— Matt(e)o | QHereKidSF (a.k.a. Matthew D. Blanchard, b. 1979)

The personal profile text above is a corpus/compendium – of sorts!! – of the long labor of love of mine in which I have endeavor to capture through creative expressions that are uniquely my own the essence of my personality, my being, my self, while devoting great conscious energy and focus to my own artistic – albeit, sometimes quite clumsy! – use of particularly pleasing poetic/literary devices.

The text of my most current Web2.0/Social Media presence profile(s) has been recorded already via a post to this blog, dot429 | BUSINESSON&OFFLINE™ : a biographical statement & personal introduction taken from my dot429.com LGBTQA professional networking profile page (accessible only to registered dot429.com members): http://dot429.com/member/matthewblanchard.

If one of my own personal blog site visitors to this particular post (or to the other preceding post referenced above) would like to view my most current profile in the context of an LGBTQA professional networking site, then I would suggest that they should register as a member of dot429.com, or else simply view the INFO Section of my Facebook profile: http://facebook.com/mblanchard79.

I hope that you all have and do continue to enjoy the quality of my inspiration, my introspection and of my writing, as I've made it quite readily available on and transmissible via the Web. Enjoy!! Peace Out! Cheers, Ciao & Namaste: I bow to the gods within you...

Respectfully submitted,

Matt(e)o | QHereKidSF

Matthew D. Blanchard
matthew@qherekidsf.com
http://qherekidsf.com
http://bit.ly/qherekidsf

San Francisco, CA USA
[20110310T233047PT] 

Dictionary.com : "PAPHIAN LOVE TEMPLE"

Late this evening, I decided finally to sign on as a Registered User of Dictionary.com; and to my delight, upon viewing their homepage after registration, I was slapped straight over my short, lil' sliver of a misshapen schnoz by one right retrospectively referential (i.e., as robustly realistic painted portraiture) and new, yet unrecognized and erudite vocabulary word:

PAPHIAN : [pey-fee-uhn] or /ˈpeɪfiən/
— adjective

1. of or pertaining to Paphos, an ancient city of Cyprus sacred to Aphrodite.
2. of or pertaining to love, esp. illicit sexual love; erotic; wanton.
3. noting or pertaining to Aphrodite or to her worship or service.

— noun

1. the Paphian, Aphrodite: so called from her cult center at Paphos.
2. ( often lowercase ) a prostitute.

Origin:
1605–15;  < L Paphi ( us ) (< Gk Páphios  of Paphos, of Aphrodite) + -an

"Paphian." Dictionary.com Unabridged, Random House, Inc. 24 Jan. 2011.
< Dictionary.com http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/Paphian >.

On the Dictionary.com homepage, an abstracted meaning of PAPHIAN: Word of The Day (Jan. 24, 2011), appeared in large font just below the main menu of links of the left-hand sidebar. The definition there simply read: "of or pertaining to love, esp. illicit physical love." Surely, such a term and the words that define its meaning would catch the curious, meandering eyes of any unsuspecting Site Visitor or Registered User. 

Of course, one may easily recognize the obvious ploy that Dictionary.com Site Moderators had made to foster an increase in quick on the uptake "CLICK THRUs" and site traffic. Who wouldn't be immediately reeled in by mention of any word "pertaining to ... illicit physical love?" Without a single hesitation, I surely was taken aback and taken in. 

What allured me so to a furthered investigation of the multiple definitions of PAPHIAN was the alliterative resemblance this particularly patrician nominal descriptor has to that oh-so particular-to-me proper noun (i.e., "a great big fiery bird") from which my drag-burlesque musical number for "Resident Alien" – Sins Invalid Artists In Residence Show takes its title: PHOENIX a'FIRE!! 

In retrospect, as mentioned, I realized that this word (i.e., PAPHIAN) would have served as a brilliant addition to the alliteratively rhymed lyrics of my quite-so quintessentially QHereKidSF poemsong. Had I discovered the word weeks prior, I would have been able to elaborate successfully upon the song with yet another perfectly pedantic, prettily unplebeian, poetic term: PAPHIAN. 

But, alas! With our performances set to debut in 2 to 3 days, there would be absolutely no allowance of time nor attention dealt to QHereKidSF for the reworking of these lyrics. Such a feat would be impossible to devise! So, I was left a bit begrudged by my charismatically quick and cut-dry uptake of the term; however, my frustrations did not stop me from indulging myself in further investigation of the word through quotations. Little did I know that my linking to a quote by George Bernard Shaw would lead me to an unsatisfactory and equally enervating "dead end."  

Shaw's use of the word, PAPHIAN, is a masterpiece of the Reformist Socialist literary genre, which Shaw himself engendered; in that, his small passage of prose does preserve an eloquent simplicity of expression that is not hindered nor by pedantry, nor by plethora of challenging lexicon:

I THINK I WALKED THROUGH LIFE AT THAT TIME LIKE A SOMNAMBULIST; FOR I HAVE SINCE SEEN THAT I MUST HAVE BEEN PILING MISTAKE UPON MISTAKE UNTIL OUT OF A CHAOS OF MEANINGLESS WORDS AND SMILES I HAD WOVEN A PAPHIAN LOVE TEMPLE.

— George Bernard Shaw (1856-1950), Anglo-Irish Socialist playwright, critic.

The Irrational Knot: Book II, Chapter XIV, p. 286. Brentano's; New York, 1918.

http://dictionary.reference.com/wordoftheday/archive/2011/01/24.html

(accessed: January 24, 2011).

Indeed, to what "dead end" did I arrive upon accessing the Dictionary.com: Word of The Day page, earlier this evening? To my disgruntled dismay, Shaw's quotation on this page had no link to a separate but particularly applicable resource page, as is the usual standard for Dictionary.com. 

The extended source notes written in the attribution above, I discovered through extensive Internet research which lead me to the Archive.org original text browser for Shaw's The Irrational Knot, at the following URL: http://www.archive.org/stream/irrationalknotbe00shawiala (accessed: January 24, 2011). From there, I was able to enter the key phrase "PAPHIAN LOVE TEMPLE" into the file-specific search engine at the top-right of the webpage. Thus, I was lead to the exact page (p. 286) in the original work, whereon Shaw writ the quotation presented above. Below is the direct image of that page:

If perchance, Dictionary.com Site Moderators come across this blog post as a NOTE available on my Facebook Profile: http://facebook.com/mblanchard79, then I hope that they would seek to rectify the apparent "loose/dead ends" that are leaving site visitors, like myself, in the lurch. 

I kindly request that Dictionary.com: Word of The Day Quotations be integrated into the "QUOTES" Section and subdomain of the website; otherwise, those visitors to Dictionary.com interested in citing a source for these quotes will not be able to do so without a seriously deep dive into the vast cyberwaves of the Internet. 

And, of course, if Dictionary.com cannot readily remedy this perturbing situation with all its quotation source "dead ends," then could Site Moderators, please, at least add Shaw's "PAPHIAN LOVE TEMPLE" quotation, cited and attributed correctly above, to the Dictionary.com "QUOTES" Section and subdomain?

  

With these humble requests, I gratefully close this extemporaneous explication and evaluation of Dictionary.com: Word of The Day feature. I'm thankful to have been invited and encouraged by Dictionary.com to add a new word: PAPHIAN, to my ever expanding vocabulary. Furthermore, I look forward to continuing to broaden my familiarity with the numerous valuable features available to Dictionary.com Registered Users, as I embark now on a more informed, thus more frugal and less frantic foray into the depths of such Web-based Vocabulary Resources as those provided by Dictionary.com. Thank you!! Cheers! Ciao. Namaste... (i.e., I bow to the gods within you).

Respectfully submitted,

Matt(e)o | QHereKidSF

Matthew D. Blanchard

http://bit.ly/qherekidsf 

[20110124T222715PST]

San Francisco, CA USA

ACCESS POINT – Point d'Accès

Depuis des jours, je me suis échappé à une vide créative, qui durait à peu près 4 ou 5 mois. Alors, je tente à faire travailler le côté gauche de mon cerveau, puisque j'y ai découvert un point d'accès à un trésor d'idées fortement originales. DIEU MERCI!

Some days ago, I escaped a creative void, which had lasted as much as four or five months. So, I am attempting to make the left side of my brain work, since I discovered there an access point to a treasure of highly original ideas. THANK GOD!

STATUS UPDATE – ORIGINAL

Depuis quelques jours, je me suis échappé à une vide (mieux dite: "une absence," un soif ou une faim) de créativité, qui durait certes à peu près plus de quatre ou cinq mois... Maintenant, je tente à bien travailler le côté gauche de mon cerveau, -- Là, d'où fonctionnent, non pas l'intellect mais, plutôt mon esprit critique et mes impulsions créatives! -- puisque j'y ai découvert un point d'accès à un trésor d'idées fortement originales.

La "découverte" et la "recherche" de ces idées et impulsions, ces expériences sont celles-là qui m'amusent, m'assouvissent et me satisfont par-dessus tout. Donc, c'est en reconnaissance de tous ceux-là que je proclame sans doute, ni honte, ni crainte:

DIEU, MERCI!! Vous m'avez certes béatifié et béni! Vous, DIEU, qui êtes le plus bienfaisant de tous autres saint-esprits! Dieu, je Vous dois ma vie!! Ne Vous inquiétez pas, car il n'y a rien à craindre. Je vous revaudrai toute celle-là. Je vous la promets!

Retournons alors au travail!

Sauf d'abord, il vaut dire à vous tous qui lisez mes mots et les comprenez bien, "SVP, Souhaitez-moi la bonne chance!!" J'en aurai certes besoin! Car, même si j'aie trouvé la capacité et des facultés avec lesquelles je puisse accéder à ma créativité, ceux ne sont riens sans une forte dose de chance...

Some days ago, I escaped a void (better said: “an absence,” a thirst or a hunger) of creativity, which had lasted certainly almost more than four or five months… Now, I am attempting to work well the left side of my brain, – There, from where functions, not the intellect but, rather my critical self and my creative impulses! – since I found there a point of access to a treasure of strongly original ideas.

The “discovery” and the “research” of these ideas and impulses, these experiences are those which amuse, satiate and satisfy me above all else. Thus, it is in recognition of all of this that I proclaim without doubt, nor shame, nor fear:

THANK YOU, LORD!! You have certainly beatified and blessed me! You, GOD, who is the most beneficent of all other holy spirits! Lord, I owe you my life!! Do not you worry, for there is nothing to fear! I will return the favor. I promise you that!

Let’s return to work!

Except first off, it is worth saying to all of you who read my words and understand them well, “PLEASE, Wish me good luck!!” I certainly will need it! For, even if I might have found the capacity and the faculties with which I may gain access to my creativity, these are nothing without a heavy dose of luck…

Cordialement,

Respectfully submitted,

Matt(e)o | QHereKidSF 

Matthew D. Blanchard

San Francisco, CA USA

http://bit.ly/qherekidsf

http://pulse.yahoo.com

[20101110T222547PST]

dot429 | BUSINESSON&OFFLINE™

COMPANY OVERVIEW: 

dot429.com is an exclusive networking community for gay professional men and women to connect with other successful gay people both live and online. Online, dot429.com will create a community featuring member profiles, blogs written by industry leaders, a listing of exclusive networking events, mentoring, and other ways to connect.

One of the things that will make dot429 truly unique, however, is that the community will host live, signature events designed to connect people who will have professional goals in common. We will begin with a monthly networking brunch and a series of intimate dinners around the city targeted at specific interests and professions.

dot429 will be the premier way you meet other interesting gay and lesbian people who can help your career ... we'll put you in good company.

MISSION:

dot429 was created with a simple vision in mind – to create a way for gay mean and women to network in order to help each other with their careers and lives. dot429 wants to make being gay an advantage in the work place.

WEBSITE: http://www.dot429.com

FACEBOOK: http://www.facebook.com/dot429 

Copyright © 2010 The 429 Group, LLC | ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
The 429 Group, LLC | 28 Twin Peaks, San Francisco, CA 94114
TEL. +1.415.564.0429 | FAX. +1.415.651.8747

MATTHEW D. BLANCHARD
Non-Profit

HIV/AIDS Advocacy Professional

http://dot429.com/member/matthewblanchard
http://www.visualcv.com/matthewblanchard
http://www.linkedin.com/in/matthewblanchard
http://qherekidsf.blogspot.com/
http://facebook.com/mblanchard79
http://twitter.com/QHereKidSF
http://bit.ly/qherekidsf




ABOUT ME
QHereKidSF @1/3Life TRY!UMPH!!
I am Man masked madly in mind's eye misgivings... The ubiquity of my ugliness is uncannily ulterior to my beauty beguiled, BeGODS!! Follow me for flagrantly unfettered, frenetic Fog City faggotry: garrulously salacious, in-your-face sycophantism & sophistry...

You'll see!! WINK! — Naw, For REAL! Bet you can't risk (re)telling my untamed, unshamed story of those torturously tragic trials & tribulations that have tentatively turned my thin skin tough again, without tending toward some semblance of sycophantic sophistry...

My serendipitously well-timed Saturn Return @1/3Life TRY!UMPH!! might very well have scratched, scuffed & scarred sanguine scarlet rosy red my reconstructed cheeks, chin & smile for a while, after my 1/4Life CRISIS! came crashing to a cataclysmic end; yet now today, ne'er more may I say I choose to languish & lament over my last-ditch, last-chance, listless, leftover life...

As QHereKidSF @1/3Life, I TRY! "UMPH!!" to truimph, even if success means switch-hitting and missing a swing... Even if victory means voicing my voracious fear of forever falling a few flimsy feet forward as nothing but a ne'er-do-well "fagged-out fräulein funambule freak show" who is vanquished as in a damned near doomsday downfall by disease & disfigurement...

Rather, I'd like to step sure-footed onto a shaky steel iron string to prance and dance in delighted acrobatics...
There, where many miles high above the sky my mindflux, my mayhem, and my mutant monstrosity matter no more...

There, where I am able to impart my many myriad life lessons learned onto those often ill-begotten & forgotten fag-friendly few who too are left to lead ill-fated, infandous & unjust lives of illness, injury, disease, and (damned if it be so!!) disfigurement, LIKE ME = Matt(e)o | QHereKidSF (a.k.a. Matthew D. Blanchard)!!

EXPERTISE

SKILLS/PROFICIENCIES PROFILE:
•  Extensive firsthand involvement with San Francisco NPO Sectors.
•  Knowledge/experience advocating for disadvantaged peoples.
•  Genuinely exceptional desire to affect positive change in World.
•  Highly skilled in coordination of HIV/AIDS Advocacy Programs.
•  Intimate participation in development of HIV Prevention Policies.
•  Trained in Safer Sex Advocacy & HIV Test Counseling Services.
•  Highly advanced/accessible written & oral communication skills.
•  Proven ability to envision, grasp & realize complex plans & ideas.
•  Exceptionally creative in design & development of programming.
•  Near-native fluency in French written & oral communication.

EMPLOYMENT/EXPERIENCE SUMMARY:
Extensive professional experience & training in the following:
1.) FUND-RAISING & DEVELOPMENT 2.) COMMUNICATIONS
3.) PROGRAM MANAGEMENT 4.) STRATEGIC PLANNING
5.) POLICY MAKING & ANALYSIS 6.) GRAPHIC & WEB DESIGN
7.) WEB 2.0 SOCIAL MEDIA MARKETING & NETWORKING
8.) PERFORMANCE PRODUCTION DESIGN & DIRECTION
For Health Services Consumer Advocacy, International Development,
Government Affairs, and Performing Arts Nonprofit Sectors.

View/Download Resume [dot429.com]

World Humanitarian Day (Aug. 19, 2010)

http://ochaonline.un.org/whd
StumbleUpon® by QHereKidSF

This single well-conceived, well-structured, and well-designed Web-page introduces myriad discussions and debate around Humanitarianism world-wide, by articulating in simple, pointed headers and paragraph explanations the key "humanitarian principles which represent the foundation of humanitarian action," as defined by the United Nations:

1.) HUMANITY: Human suffering must be addressed wherever it is found. The purpose of humanitarian action is to protect life and health and ensure respect for human beings.

2.) NEUTRALITY: Humanitarian actors must not take sides in hostilities or engage in controversies of a political, racial, religious or ideological nature.

3.) IMPARTIALITY: Humanitarian action must be carried out on the basis of need alone, giving priority to the most urgent cases of distress and making no distinctions on the basis of nationality, race, gender, religious belief, class or political opinion.

4.) OPERATIONAL INDEPENDENCE: Humanitarian action must be autonomous from the political, economic, military or other objectives that any actor may hold with regard to areas where humanitarian action is being implemented.

This page is easy-to-navigate, and chock full of video links and "Supporting Documents," such as those entitled, "Security Trends," "Q&A," "Leaflet," and "Key Messages."

 

United Nations Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs
2010 World Humanitarian Day POSTER (August 19) - v.English
(cc) CreativeCommons Attribute 2010 | creators: UNOCHA, et al.
http://ochaonline.un.org/whd/posters.html

What's best about this entire social marketing campaign is, in my opinion, their poster and video campaigns. Their brand identity, imagery and messaging are all captured in a way that definitively illuminates that countless lives affected by and involved with humanitarian work across the globe.

I HIGHLY RECOMMEND THAT YOU EXPLORE THIS PAGE, if in fact you have any interest or involvement in international development and humanitarian aid work!!

I know that, as a global HIV/AIDS advocate and activist based in and around San Francisco, CA and the District of Columbia, but doing working that is of integral importance to the Government and peoples of The Republic of Sierra Leone, I was immensely captivated and profoundly moved especially by the video PSAs & the full length feature film available for viewing on this page!!

All that I have seen here makes me exceedingly proud to be a HUMANITARIAN AID WORKER on WORLD HUMANITARIAN DAY : August 19, 2010!!




http://youtu.be/Yy7lnXG5U9Q, posted by ochafilms (August 11, 2010)

The 2010 World Humanitarian Day project is a collaborative film shot in over 40 countries in under 9 weeks, on a shoestring budget - with the goal of showing the enormous diversity of places, faces and endeavors of humanitarian aid workers in 2010. It was filmed by humanitarian staff and freelance filmmakers from around the globe (over 50 contributors in total) with all time donated. Please help us by linking, embedding, tweeting and sharing this message with your friends, colleagues and contacts. Our sincere thanks to all those who contributed to the film, and to it's dissemination.

Credits:
Music by Krister Linder kristerlinder.com
2D animation by Anu Nagaraj at massmarket.tv
Title design by David Rasura

Produced by David Ohana/AVMU at
UN Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs
worldhumanitarianday.info

This film is a subtly potent portrayal of countless individuals around the globe who dedicate their lives to the good, well-fare, well-being, safety, health, and humanity of all mankind. What poignantly gripping and emphatically simple cinematography and music!!

The worldly rhythm of the score syncopates in Diasporic beats the quintessential individuality of all Humanitarian Aid Workers, while capturing in a no less than captivating fashion, frame after frame, a unified front of humanitarians one in the same, albeit all of them of different colors, races, ethnicity, gender, locations, etc.

We are ALL HUMANITARIAN AID WORKERS!! No matter where we do our work nor how, as long as we are pursuing the greater cause of the key humanitarian principles: HUMANITY, NEUTRALITY, IMPARTIALITY & OPERATIONAL INDEPENDENCE.

I am a humanitarian HIV/AIDS advocate and activist working with and for the most beleaguered and needy populations of youth (primarily of color) infected and affected by HIV/AIDS in the San Francisco Bay Area. But, I also contribute substantially to a government affairs and international development nonprofit based out of the District of Columbia and serving the government and peoples of Sierra Leone.

Through Social Media platforms such as Facebook®, Twitter®, YouTube®, StumbleUpon®, Blogger®, Windows® Live™ Spaces™, etc., I also have the opportunity to contribute my voice to the global humanitarian movement that has taken root within the USA and which is spreading ironically as rampant as a pandemic of myriad infectious diseases across the globe.

That's well said: HUMANITARIANISM IS INFECTIOUS!! Or, so this 60 sec. World Humanitarian Day PSA demonstrates so well; the cause is CONTAGIOUS!! Hallelujah! Cheers! Ciao! Namaste...

Respectfully Submitted,
Matt(e)o | QHereKidSF
Matthew D. Blanchard

Fund-Raising Co-Chair
Board of Directors
Bay Area Young Positives, Inc.
baypositives.org [baypositives.org]
twitter.com/BAYPositives [twitter.com]
facebook.com/BAYPositives [facebook.com]

Board Associate of Communications | Webmaster
Int'l. Professional Partnerships for Sierra Leone, Inc.
communications@ippsl.org
ippsl.org [ippsl.org]

ISRAEL&I : Preserving Progress

Evidence of an enduring friendship. Remarks made to console and cajole into contemplation the otherwise tamed vacancies of intellect that bridal us with ignorance and loathing prejudices. This essay is not meant to proselytize about the potency of or the pandemonium in the Israeli State, but rather, this blog entry is meant to demonstrate the intense intimacy of my relationship with my next door neighbor and In-Home Supportive Services provider: my friend, Israel R. Toro.

The following is text of a letter I recently wrote to Israel, which he will not have yet read by the time this post is published. Maybe he'll get a hint that a letter's waiting for him, when he sees a notification of this blog entry post on my Facebook Profile. This would mean that he has access to the text of the letter without having the illustrated pages in his hands first, but that's okay.  It'll still be something special for him to receive the hand-written four page letter in person when he returns from vacation in about a week.  At least, that's my hope!

Dear Israel,
Today, you left on a camping trip with your boyfriend to Washington State, where there's quick sand and where you're going to be soaked with rain. I'm home alone, listening to the silence through my walls, re-reading the hand-written note you posted to my oven fan and the text messages you sent me earlier in the day. I can't help but play back the conversation we had sitting at my kitchen table, recalling your anxiety at the thought that I possibly will no longer be your neighbor.

Frankly, I regret having been so caught up in my own excitement at the prospect of transitioning finally into independence and (hopefully!) better circumstances, that I didn't have forethought enough to anticipate your reaction or to consider your feelings. And, for that I am deeply sorry. On the other hand, I feel blessed by your reaction. Why? How? You might ask... It may seem insensitive of me to find satisfaction in your frustration and worry, but let me explain...

Through the harrowing happenstance of disease, depression disfigurement, delusions, devastation, death -- but, then through survival, salvation, sanity, sobriety, sympathy, serendipity, solace, surety, safety, serenity and yes, even through some selfish satisfaction for it all! -- I have come to believe that only one thing can sustain me in life, onward from my fight with death, and that is... FRIENDSHIP!!


Friendship is essential to my life, and since I call you proudly and gratefully a friend -- you are absolutely essential to my life. Your unexpected reaction -- unexpected to me, at least -- to some unexpected news essentially demonstrated the deep, genuine sincerity of our relationship, making real and tangible to me the enormous significance and value you bring to my life.


Essentially, by reacting with such shock, fear, anxiety and very real sadness at the prospect of losing your proximity to me, you proved to me how essential -- how necessary -- you are to my life, to my survival, and to my happiness. Don't you see now why and how I could/did find some satisfaction in your suffering?


Your pain made me happy for a brief moment, but as soon as I realized that what I was feeling could very well be wrong (or at least totally inappropriate and shameful), I shifted my perspective and my focus onto you. My focus right now is not on this satisfaction of mine that I've defined here, but it's on abetting your worry, healing your anxiety and pain by reassuring yu that I will do whatever I can that is humanly possible to preserve the status, shape, sincerity, intimacy, growth and progress of our friendship, if I am no longer to be your neighbor.

You make me happy, Israel!! You make me laugh. You make me worry. You make me proud. You make me feel lucky, special, unique, grateful...as friends should do!! I guess really that's exactly just what I want to say, and I want to thank you for saying yes, when I asked you to be my IHSS worker.  Thank you for hanging out with me when times were low. Thanks for supporting my sobriety, my health, my sanity.  Thank you for taking suck great care of me and Tanner!! 

You deserve so much gratitude in return for all the generous gifts, sympathy and friendship that you have bestowed upon me in the past seven years as my neighbor, and especially for the sacrifices that you have recently made (and that I hope you will continue to make) as my in-home care provider. 


The mutual reciprocity of our relationship (personal/professional, or otherwise!) is what gives us such trust, intimacy, potency, pride and strength when we're together; and for that, I hope never to lose you -- or our friendship. I WILL FIGHT TO THE ENDS OF THE EARTH FOR YOU!! Because, in fighting to preserve our relationship, I fight also to keep my life on track, heading in the "right" direction.


NO! I don't mean to insinuate that I'm going to turn Republican on you , but I do in a way mean to say "CONSERVATIVE" -- in such a way that I'd like to conserve/preserve all the greatness, the grandeur, the bliss that has found its way into my life recently; thanks to you. BUT, I'M A TRUE PROGRESSIVE! I believe in PROGRESS. 


As my priest would say: "We are all imperfect people reaching, aiming for perfection." I personally do not know if I will ever reach perfection before I die, or if it will instead come posthumously once I enter into the gardens of ELYSIUM, but I know that in the meantime, I will only act in God's graces, and I will only surround myself with people like you. People who are not "perfect" -- per se, but whose indomitable strength of spirit only supports, encourages, buttresses (and does not contend with contemptuously) my journey toward perfection. Those who join the journey with me, only to follow their own path in the same general direction. 


That is why you are in my life. Because, in your support and through our friendship, we both come all that much clsoer to enlightenment, salvation, redemption and perfection. You sustain and nurture, cultivate and catalyze my shaping of self. And I can only dream of doing the same for you. In brotherhood, Israel, our love for one another endures... Know that I cherish you, and that there will always be a place for you in my life. Forever. THANKS!!


With Love,
Matthew

I wanted to post this text prior to delivering the letter to Israel himself, because the simple act of writing these words has inspired in me a sense of urgency in recognizing and recording the significance of this very important relationship in my life. 

What's true is that I enjoy writing (and illustrating) letters by hand to the people most important in my life; in small part, because I figure that if one day I reach infamy or celebrity or renown, then such hand-written souvenirs could be cherished as truly valuable objects. But, my immediate aim in not to reach renown. I'm not presumptuous, or even pompous enough to think that celebrity is a possibility for me in any way, so I'll settle for touching the hearts of those few and far between important people in my life who merit such gifts of graphic gab scribbled onto loose leaf paper. That's what I hope to do with this letter: touch Israel's heart! 

Maybe he'll read my blog post via Facebook, and either comment there or access my blog's true URL: http://qherekidsf.blogspot.com, to leave a comment there. We'll see!  Maybe, he'll just read the letter on loose leaf and give me one ginormous grateful, gentlemanly bear hug!! GRRRRRR. CHUB!! :) Peace Out, All! And Peace, especially to Israel! May he have a safe voyage home, and may our friendship survive the tempests and turmoil of time!!  Truth be told, he's tamed me. My gratitude is immeasurable. THANKS, IZ!!

Respectfully Submitted,
Matthew D. Blanchard
Matt(e)o | QHereKidSF
San Francisco, CA USA
[2010.05.29@18:40PST]

ONWARD & UPWARD! Always : Part ONE

Recently, I witnessed a shining example of the true love of enduring -- albeit, long lost -- friendship, written in a most eloquent manner by a person I hold very dear to my heart. While permission to identify this person has yet to be granted, I would like to take it upon myself to breach the great Zeitgeist of absence that has separated me not only from the blogosphere for quite sometime, but also from this dear friend of mine for far longer a period than ever should have been permissible in the mind's eye.

Rest assured; my mind's eye faces forward, in face of much "trepidation" -- as I call it in my response to her eloquently evocative and poetic enunciation of regret, remorse and respite of rectitude. Or else, be it called turmoil, trauma, terror, torture, and eventual tenacity of spirit sprung up through experience and circumstance, disease and degradation, deflation of ego -- ergo, we marvel together at miracles and pontificate over pain, as a peculiar pernicious passing way to cleanse ourselves of calamity and chaos. 

Hence, I help myself to a heaping dollop of duplication, as if perchance to replicate the immense emotion(s) that teemed deep within my mind at the moment I read and responded to the unfortunate circumstances under which she wrote these words: 

MAY 7, 2010 at 4:22PM EST
Matt, like I asked before, how did we ever lose touch? Admittedly, I used to be awful at keeping up with people -- late email responses, missed phone calls, misplaced addresses, and the like. And let's be honest, people drift apart. Friends go their separate ways. it's a natural occurrence, the inertia of which I didn't fight. But I thought of you often. I wondered where you were and what you were doing. I look back at my yearbooks sometimes and fondly stare at the pages onto which you left your mark. Your artwork, the creativity you applied just to write my name. Yours were always my favorite entries. So colorful and alive. Like you. We were all so awkward back in high school. Armed with the braveness and audacity of youth, yet lost and afraid of the unknown, of our futures, of ourselves. I was especially...weird. I didn't know what the hell I was doing. Most times, I felt very alone. But having you as a friend made a difference. You made me smile and laugh. you made the really long days bearable. Then we graduated. It's 13 years later, and I regret not trying harder to stay in contact with you. Hey, it's never too late right? I've seen all of you posted photos and they're respective captions. I am so sorry for what you've been through and for the battle you are still fighting. You are so brave, Matt. Last September, I was in a coma, resulting from complications due to chemotherapy. I'm also bald now. I suppose we all have our own problems, our own sources of pain. But we are fighters, you and me. Keep fighting. I hope to hear from you, my friend.

Now, while retyping her message to me for the sake of perpetuity via the ever so accessible blogosphere and cyberwaves, I realize that I should have responded some way simpler than I initially did respond. My first reply was an abrupt, pointed plea for direct, person-to-person communication, live, over the phone. In many ways, I was so intangibly humbled, honored, privileged, « ou comme on dit en français: bouleversé », bent through and through by the bones of me, dramatically empowered, emboldened, impassioned, and empathetic...sorrowfully, shamefully sympathetic...all in one instance, that I could only find it in myself to call out to her as brashly as a boy could begin the volley and tarry of a new dialogue with an old friend, writing:

MAY 7, 2010 at 7:19PM PST
What's your phone number? I would love to talk to you. I have so many thoughts running through my head, so many things I'd like to say to you, to ask you. And, Facebook would only allow me a pitiful tool for expressing myself. You have always been in my thoughts; now you will remain in my prayers. I love you, and I miss you. Even bald, I'm sure you're just as beautiful as ever!! If you don't feel comfortable giving your phone number over email, feel free to check out the INFO Section of my Facebook profile for my phone numbers, address and emails. I hope you will reach out and contact me again, but this time more directly. Looking forward to hearing your voice. Love, your dear ol' friend... Matthew...

Three days have passed since I wrote that speedy, contrite, emotionally bland and bottom-tight message to my long lost, new found friend, and she has yet to have called me or communicate with me outright in any way, which sure as the day is long, worries me in a weird, weird way.  
I've hesitated even meandering through her Facebook profile, for fear of seeing a more recent photo of my truly beautiful boyhood best friend bald now, bare of her long, lank, straight, sleek, sultry, always beaming so black it blinded you, locks of gorgeous hair.  You know, the stuff of which dreams were made.  Like me, however, I know that even bald, she beams boundlessly of beauty beneath the glimmer of her gaze, within, through and surrounding the ecstatic "Elysium" of her eyes.  

SHAME ON ME, DAMMIT ALL!! What ungodly right do I have to be afraid to bear witness to the shedding of mere remembrances. She, herself, had the courage to view my awfully frightening misfortune of a face misshapen by death and disease through then not yet up to date photos chronicling my demise. So, as if to invite her to be reassured of the myriad of blessings which could/should/would befall us, together as friends or apart as individuals -- suffering through nightmarish parallels of conspicuous calamity and chaos, I today uploaded all of the photo portraits taken of me since my sixth surgery. 

These photos include me with and without extensive scarring and stitches, with and without a forehead flap to nose, remaining left with nothing but a mere mutable, more or less monstrous left nostril and lips: "quasi-motor mouth" lips.  Yet, they all capture my own innate beauty in the framing of my expressive, expansive, joyful eyes.  I want so deeply for my dear friend to see beauty in my eyes, if not in my words, written:

MAY 10, 2010 at 8:17PM PST
It's Monday, May 10. Sitting here rereading your most beautiful message to me, with a dear friend at my side. Wallace (WES) Smith is my replacement you. I wish you could meet him. He's an amazing person; much like the person I know you to be: loving, giving, understanding beyond all measure, funny, and above all, happy at just the right moments, and sad with me when I need him to be.

Chances are odd that I would sob tears of sorrow only after reading your message a second time, in the company of a friend. But with him here to witness your undying beauty in words, in pictures, in memories never lost, never forgotten, he invited me to be as open and comfortable with my feelings of regret and remorse as ever I could be or couldn't without him.

When I first read your message, I was struck with an urgent impulse to communicate with you immediately in person, but as that luxury has not presented itself, I've found time to ponder further the feelings I have around the circumstances of your writing to me.

Above all measure, I feel that yes, in fact, we are "FIGHTERS" (as you so gracefully observed), but I see what is happening to us as entirely undeserved and unjust; for that, I am heart-fully sorry.

However, I remain an eternal optimist, as I am sure you do, as well. And, I see in our enduring strength and almost pigheaded determination to outwit destiny (or death -- or whatever one might choose to call that foreboding intent of our Higher Power to outwit us outright ourselves in our hubris), the stamina and true, free will to survive beyond all odds, beyond all measure, beyond all degradation of our innate, inherent beauties.

I don't know much of your story since our senior year of high school, and I can only grasp at a mediocre mindfulness of your present suffering, yet I hear it in your words, behind the echo of a certain righteous trepidation -- something of which I have the most astute familiarity: the voice of fear. Likely also, the voice of regret and shame and injustice.

So, in your words of stamina, strength, sure will, and willingness to self-expose, I find parallels between us that I only wish could have taken different shape or different form.

How are we deserving of such pain, such suffering, one might ask? I once was compelled to cry out to my God in ever bitter bereaving those whys and wherefores of the ways in which the ill reluctantly survive despite the most awful degree of torture: cancer, coma, kidney failure, chemotherapy, catheters, or the cutting and sawing, stapling and screwing, sewing and stitching (or "re-tapestry") of face through disfigurement. Yet, I have ended my bewildered haranguing of my Higher Power, no longer to ask of reasons for my ruination.

I've accepted the injustice, the undeserved destruction of my body, as a solemn soulful, serendipitous enunciation of my own sacred self.



We are more that just fighters. We are, until the day He takes us from our endless enduring pain into ecstatic everlasting Elysium, always and evermore... SURVIVORS!

Survivors of a shared past, shared shame, shared joy and of our own shared, self-construed, self-conscious, self-structured, surreal but earthbound « jardins de paix aux champs elysées ». We are survivors today, just as we will survive tomorrow, whether tomorrow brings us great misery, pain, beauty of bold undying love. We are together survivors of immense, unfathomable, unique sufferance shared.

Together, it is my hope that we... together ...may cry out in our off-chance omniforce of grace and gratitude the quaint and quintessential hymn of our youth. Today, tomorrow, whatever life may lay at our feet, may we hold hands and stumble forward together, singing life's love song -- a simple three-word phrase: "ONWARD AND UPWARD." Always.

Remembering most fondly every beautiful moment we've shared, and not forgetting the ugly patches either, I worship your grace and pay homage to your truly blessed beauty!

Love eternal & with pride,
Gratefully & graciously yours,
Matthew Blanchard
Matt(e)o | QHereKidSF

DEATH IS A FRIEND OF OURS, AND HE THAT IS
NOT READY TO ENTERTAIN HIM IS NOT AT HOME.
-- Sir Francis Bacon (1561-1626)

IF ONE ADVANCES CONFIDENTLY IN THE DIRECTION
OF HIS DREAMS, AND ENDEAVORS TO LIVE THE LIFE
HE HAS IMAGINED, HE WILL MEET WITH A SUCCESS
UNEXPECTED IN COMMON HOURS.
-- Henry David Thoreau (1817-1862)

QHereKidSF's photostream
www.flickr.com
QHerekidSF @ 1/4-Life!! Questions, Quandaries, Conundrums and above
all else, CUTENESS, despite degradation and denigration of face. The
unfathomable fortune and fastidious splendor of spirit shown through the
face of a Fagged-Out Funambulist Freak Show : Mindflux | Matt(e)o |
Mayhem!! Enjoy!

Consequently, I feel most privileged to be able to share this writing with the followers of my blog, and with my Facebook friends. Part of me hesitates to divulge this entirely personal exchange via a blog post, but as I've set out in the past to use this blog as a tool and mechanism for record-keeping, chronicling and creatively expressing my most pungent, potent, putrid and prettily poignant passing pedantry and pontification(s), I will continue down this same route for the sake of posterity and perpetuity.  May these words resound with you, and may they be remembered.  

Who knows? Maybe, with likely permission from my begotten (not forgotten) friend, this dialogue will further develop before the blogosphere, as an intimate exchange intending to touch the hearts of millions. I've so much more to write to this dear friend of mine, as I'm sure she has many more words of wisdom with which to bequeath me in preparation of the inevitable... (i.e., the restoration and rebuilding of our relationship through remembrances, respite and reunification). DOT. DOT. DOT. God Willing! 

So I subtitle this passage: PART ONE, of more to come!!

Hopefully humble,
Humbly hopeful,
Herein and hitherto,
Straight forward to great fortune & fortitude...
Clutching the hands of my best friend(s),
I sing out in privilege and in pride,
ONWARD AND UPWARD! Always.

God willing,
Matt(e)o | QHereKidSF
Matthew D. Blanchard
San Francisco, CA USA
[2010.05.11@00:50PST]

THE DIFFICULTY IS NOT SO GREAT TO DIE FOR A 
FRIEND, AS TO FIND A FRIEND WORTH DYING FOR. 
-- Homer (800BC - 700BC) 

Rough Draft : Retelling My Ruination

I am a young gay man living with AIDS, who has already on numerous occasions fallen to the detriment and devastation of this horrifying disease. And, I am only 30 years old! This rough draft retelling of my ruination serves a specific intention: to catalog both the tender touching and terribly traumatic moments of my miserable mayhem, for the sake of both posterity and universal accessibility.

My intention here is to be brave and bold in the broad casting of my courage, contentment, and collected wisdom through written narrative, while refining my eloquence through an evocative enunciation of the eternal conflict and reconciliation between external/internal beauty and ulteriorly ultimate, indomitable integrity inspired by such doomsday devastation as disease(s) and disfigurement(s).

In late 2007, I was living a very isolated, lonely life... addicted to crystal meth and ignoring the obvious signs of the deterioration of my health, when I acquired PCP pneumonia (but didn't know it!), fell unconscious (for what my doctors now believe was between ten to twelve days!) alone in my stark, sterile studio apartment. Laying face down on my pillow in bed, I allowed eminently dangerous bacteria to enter my mouth through the constant streaming of saliva and drool that dripped from the curl of my lips and cheek.

At some point during my apparent coma, I was infected by a poly-microbial bacterial infection similar to, but much more destructive, aggressive and incurable than, say, MRSA (staph infection) or Gangrene. This bacterial infection invaded my face and began necrotizing the flesh and bone of my upper jaw, mouth and nose.

On October 7, 2007, I was found less than a few vacant steps away from death, by the San Francisco Fire Department, who came and busted down my door. I remember being woken by their inexorably loud pounding, so I peeled myself out of my urine- & blood-soaked sheets, in the daze of dying, and stumbled to the hallway that directly faced my front door. I saw the door collapse, the fire fighters and my property manager standing there calling my name. Then I in turn collapsed, fainted, again unconscious and was rushed to the hospital, where I remained in medically induced coma for eight weeks.

During this time, my doctors attempted to cure a pervasive PCP pneumonia, as well as the ultimately incurable bacterial infection in my face. While they succeeded in curbing the affects of the pneumonia, the heavy, heavy doses of antibiotics that they were injecting into me had no significant affect on the bacterial infection, which kept eating away at my face. Tragically, during the third week of my hospitalization, while i was still unconscious, my doctors were forced to amputate my entire upper jaw & palette, my upper and left lower lips, my left nostril and septum.

Five weeks later, I woke form the coma and was presented a mirror by a terribly awkward and forcibly compassionate student doctor. He told me to take it into my hands, directed me to lift the mirror above my head and to bring it down slowly, with calm and reserve, so that I wouldn't be too terribly "terrified." So, I did what he said.

I gazed through the mirror, first at the top of my head, where wisps of hair stuck out in all directions, noticed that it was getting long...longer than I had remembered it to be, and that it was pretty awfully disheveled. I brought the mirror down to my eyes and stared intently into them, begging to know what I was about to see, and then I slowly dragged the mirror down the length of my nose.

Before I had any chance to gasp for breath, I saw the start of it: my nose had been cut in half at it's tip; I could see inside of it. Suddenly, I experienced an astounding jolt of excitement, awe and curiosity in such a way that I had never experienced before; so, without fear, i continued to pull the mirror down the length of my distorted, disfigured face, and I saw the rest of it. From the edge of where my nose had been cut off, a large gaping hole obliterated, obscured and obstructed what were once the familiar features of my beautiful face and awkward, crooked smile.

I could see through to the back of my throat, to my uvula. I could see my tongue flinching hesitantly, reluctantly, with reserve, itching the few bottom teeth that remained. I realized just then that I had never once noticed nor recognized how gargantuan my tongue is: just a testament to how big my mouth once was, and still was just then.

I hated what I saw. It certainly intrigued me, but it horrified me very much just the same. So much so that I remained expressionless: my eyes void of emotion, as I continued to stare. I felt so many diverse, painful emotions in that one single instance, that I could not even bear to cry; however, the student doctor was determined that I should. He grabbed my hand and held it tightly, with angst and force; although, I did not want him to touch me. He explained the trauma I had experienced and stressed stoically that with modern advancements in the science and practice of plastic surgery, my face could...would...be restored.

I wouldn't, couldn't find the grace and courage and hope within myself to believe him, so I pulled my hand out of his and tenderly touched it to my my teeth and tongue, trembling. As if, with a single touch, I could denounce and defy the reality of my destruction. He noticed that no tears were coming out, and his eyebrows slumped downward in obvious concern. He said that he wouldn't leave my side until I cried. Almost whimpering, with a quivering lip and trembling eyes, suffering himself the agony of the moment, he desperately cajoled me: "You are supposed to cry, Matthew. What has happened to you... It's devastating."

I realized just then that I hated that word: "devastating," but that from that moment onward, it would be one of the only few words I could ever find to describe the full magnanimous force of the mayhem and misery that had befallen me. I was angry. I was puzzled. I was horrified. I was immensely, terribly, devastatingly saddened by what I saw staring back at me in that mirror: a ghastly, grotesque, gruesome grimace gone awry. And, I was very frustrated with this man who was just sitting there, watching me suffer, urging my suffering on, expecting me... asking me... telling me... to "CRY!!"

So, to appease and abet a little the young student doctor's dutiful determination and perhaps, in one way or another, to see if his sympathy was sincere, I let a tear tarry a second on the tip of my lashes, then drip down my swollen, scarred, scarlet cheek to fall into the chasm at the center of my face. And Goddammit! Then, do you know what he did? He immediately swiped the mirror from my tight grip, stoop up, began shuffling backward towards the door and muttered, "So, I guess we're done here. I'll check in on you tomorrow. Don't let this get you down, Matthew. Try to smile!" TRY TO SMILE!! That's what he said to me. The bastard! Then, he walked away, and I never saw him again. To this day, I don't know if I have ever hated anyone in one moment more than I hated that student doctor then.

It's been almost two years since my eight-month hospitalization came to an end. I eventually returned home, again to be isolated, alone in my studio apartment, where I began the tedious, depressive struggle of trudging onward through five consecutive surgical reconstructions, so far. My face is a tattered tapestry of flesh and bone taken from my lower left leg and hanging from my forehead. I'm currently awaiting with great anticipation my next surgery: "a division & revision of the left nasal flap," scheduled for January 4, 2010. Reconstructions will continue well into 2011, progressing at a steady six week pace if, and only if, I remain sober.

One redemptive aspect of my story: a "Saving Grace," per say, is that while my addiction resurfaced just after I returned home to isolation and to a $350.00USD baggy of crystal meth laying next to a dirty, used bulb-pipe at the center of my desk, I have fought long and hard to conquer this ulterior disease of drug dependency, ever since. As recent as July 14, 2009, I entered a ninety-day triple diagnoses residential rehabilitative recovery & transitional housing program called Ferguson Place, through Baker Places, Inc. of San Francisco.

Rehab was an immensely transformative, successful experience, and I have remained sober since graduating the program on October 11, 2009. I feel very secure in my recovery, thanks to my very strong support network, which includes doctors, surgeons, nurses, a psychiatrist, a therapist, a L.I.F.E. coach, a Care Navigator, a sponsor, friends, family and other sober members of my recovery community.

My concern during this tedious time of continuously tentative transformations, is the temptation that will doubtlessly seep through the walls of my studio apartment as I sit alone, day in and day out, in isolation. Isolation and inactivity can only lead to a progression of my disease(s). In fact, that is exactly what got me into the this predicament in the first place, I believe. Truth is: It's difficult for me to get up and get active, and to exercise with lots of strenuous motion, because I'm missing my left fibula.

The majority of the bone (save an inch & a half at either end, where the tendons and ligaments attach) was removed during my first extremely invasive, debilitating (although, quite successful!) maxillofacial reconstruction, only to be sawed, separated, screwed and secured to my face in an effort to recreate my upper jaw. So, I have a lot of trouble walking with stability and speed. I'm also only about five months clean and sober, as I alluded, previously.

For these reasons (and many more!), I am in need of the companionship and responsibility that comes with caring for a supportive service/assistance pet: in order to 1.) maintain sobriety, 2.) to get some exercise on a daily basis, and 3.) to venture out into the world, where I might encounter real people; instead of being always shut up at home.

The next two years of reconstructions are going to be long and arduous, but I maintain hope, determination and ambition. I'm looking forward to going back to school to get my Master's in Social Work (MSW), as well as either an NPA Professional Certificate (Non-Profit Administration) from U.C. Berkeley, or an only Master's in Nonprofit Management (MNM) from Regis University (based out of Boulder, Colorado). I intend to fully utilize all the various resources at my disposal as a resident of San Francisco, California, such as benefits I expect will be awarded to me by the Department of Rehabilitation: a state-run bureaucratic social services division that funds eduction and training for disabled peoples whom are aiming to return to work.

I am fully committed to positively impacting my community through expressions of compassion, courage, empathy & autobiography. I anticipate the moment when I am able and invited to share my story with the broader recovery community, to down my mask and recount the wretched horrifying lowdown depths to which addiction can thrust someone with utmost turbulence, and without the slightest pause in consideration of one's imminent trepidation and trauma.

For now, I practice my telling narrative nearer to the people, passed along via the ebbing, flowing tide of cyberwaves, broadcasting my story to the world here via this dynamic social media infrastructure in the off chance that some solitary sober someone may stumble out of the "ROOMS" and into my "WORDS," before I sound off for once on my own back where we both are bound to face my face, face-to-face, together. C'est à dire, « dans des SALLES!! » At which point, I will always end in saying, "Thank you for your acceptance. Thank you for listening. Next time, I'll be sure to bring some lil' smoked sausages to go with those NUTS!!" ;oP

Respectfully submitted,
Matt(e)o | QHereKidSF
Matthew D. Blanchard
San Francisco, CA USA
[MDB2009.12.06@19:31]