While driving into work this morning, traffic started to come to almost a standstill. I look up ahead and see lights flashing on the opposite side of the highway. Dammit. Gawkers are slowing us down. Once I reached the scene I saw why. Both cars had to have the tops completely taken off to remove the people inside. There's nothing like seeing something like that to start your day.
Before taking my exit, I passed the smallest car in the world. I have no idea what kind. Think, a clown car from the circus. Inside, was a man so tall and large that I swear the back of his neck was touching the roof of the vehicle. His head was twisted in what had to be a very uncomfortable position, which was practically sideways. One arm completely hanging outside the window and the other was practically touching the other window. The car even tilted slightly to the left. Of course, this threw me into a fit of giggles which lasted until I drove up to work.
I was thinking during my drive in this morning about an upcoming weekend getaway. We went to Target last night and purchased a 3 bedroom tent, air matress and lanterns. Seems that we'll be camping at Rainbow Ranch on Labor Day Weekend. Can you believe this will be my first time sleeping in a tent? With bugs and lizards and snakes and bears and tigers roaming all around me??!!! No cozy Streamline for me. Nope. No fancy schmancy cabin with running water and a toilet. Nada. Yet, I'm looking forward to yet another weekend with Brian and our friends.
Life is good. Life is great actually. Despite peeing like a shooting BB gun this past week, I have no complaints. This past year has brought many trips to other states and other cities. I've floated down a river on an innertube with friends, went camping with a couple drag queens, walked around Times Square at midnight, saw a Broadway show, walked the beaches of San Diego, celebrated an anniversary, met many new people and made new friends.
To top everything else off, within only a few weeks my goal of $1000 for the Dallas AIDS Walk, which I thought would take a couple months to achieve, has almost been reached. Thanks to you all, I'm only $140 shy of reaching that goal. Can you believe it? I still have the months of August and September still to go. I'm sure to blow the top of that goal.
Yeah, life is great. When you're not feeling so well, things aren't going your way or life just seems like a huge pile of doggie doo doo, there's always something that you can be happy about if you just stop, take a minute and look.
Sorry for the slow morning. I'm working at a snails pace.
While sitting in the waiting room of my Urologist yesterday, watching soap opera's on the TV, the kind woman called me back, shoved a bottle in my hand and said, "Pee in this!" They must really love their job. Dealing with urine all day long. I should have peed on the outside of the cup a little. She took the cup from me without wearing gloves. *blink blink*
It wasn't long before my doctor came in. He's a towering man, probably 6' 9". Snow white hair and old enough to be in a rest home. It bugs me when someones looking over their glasses at you, yet not quite looking AT you. Sort of over your shoulder and to the left of you instead. I caught myself a few times, looking around me to see who or what he's looking at while he mumbled.
I sat there, telling him my last weeks events. Giving him detail after detail while his mouth hung half open, looking past me not at me. I swear I saw drool. He calls me over and tells me to drop em. He proceeds to fondle grab examine my balls testicles and dick penis, checking out every inch (there are a few inches to check out) and making me turn my head and cough. Then tells me to turn around.
Now I'm standing there already horrified that Old Man Lurch has been gropping me and can't understand WHY I have to have a prostate exam. I have kidney stone problems! I'm worried about standing at a urinal screaming obscenities while shooting out Kitty Litter! I'm having trouble peeing! Why stick your finger in there? It would be totally different if I had a Dr. McHottie like someone else I know. And let me tell you, when you're that tall and big of a man, you're fingers are NOT small. And why on Cher's green earth can they NOT have something other then icey cold KY jelly that I swear has been kept in a freezer?
Bastard. Didn't even bend me over a table so I could support myself. Just told me to bend over, put my elbows on my knees and IN went the Ball Park Frank sized finger that probably smelled like Ben Gay. Dear GOD man, give a boy some warning. Almost fell over. Wonder if he thought I was tight?
He proceeds to tell me what my main doctor said. "Looks like you've been passing some kidney stones." Well, duh tell me something I haven't already been told. I go in for a sonogram of the kidneys tomorrow to see how the boys are doing. Next week they'll follow up with a bodily fluid check. No one seems to have a sense of urgency, so I guess that's a good sign. Everyone just says drink lots of water and take Motrin.
Nothing, and I mean NOTHING has been told to me of how I can get the images out of my head of him feeling me up and sticking his finger up my butt.
For THAT I'm scarred for life.
I want a Hot Doctor, JUST once. Is that too much to ask?
The weekend was surreal to say the least. I've not been back to Kansas City in years. It's been 13 years since I've been back to Lawrence Kansas to see the city I went to graduate school and came out in.
Despite having major back and stomach pain due to whatever is going on with my kidneys and bladder, Doc said it was ok to go, so off we went. We stayed with my nephew, who had the occasional night time guest that crashed in the livingroom with us. The guest is also going through a nasty divorce and gets kicked out of the home on occasion. Here we thought this guy was going to be difficult and very homophobic from the way he was acting. Before you know it, he's keeping us up until the wee hours of the morning, telling us his life story and deepest thoughts.
I showed Brian around The Plaza and downtown. Ate at a couple favorite restaurants. Did a little shopping. Reminisced about days gone by. I realized why I missed this city so much.
We decided to head to Lawrence to see where I went to graduate school. Found our old glassblowing barn and studio house which dates back to the mid 1800's. I had a hard time just walking around there without getting tears in my eyes. One of the best times of my life was hanging with a bunch of art students, blowing glass, living and breathing art, collaborating with other students. We spent some nights and our weekends drinking, listening to live bands and sobering up in a late night coffee shop. It's the place I first came out after two more attempts at dating women. The place I explored my sexuality and realized I was a gay man and was OK with that.
A place before the worry of HIV, debt, corporate jobs and heartache.
Lawrence is a magical place for me.
After hours of walking the glassbarn, campus and downtown we headed back to KCMO for a night out on the town. There's a reason I left and I was totally reminded of it. All the feelings of why I made the decision to leave came back.
This whole time I'm popping Motrin like it's candy and drinking water.
Sunday we headed back into Lawrence to see my old Glass Blowing Professor. I'm sure we bored Brian by talking about the 'good ol' days'. He showed us his extensive glass collection. We oo'd and ah'd at his Rembrant, Lichtenstein and Picasso hanging on the walls. Then he tells me to pick out a piece of his to take home, then proceeds to hand me a 2nd. My glass collection is increasing.
I think the entire reason for the trip was for me was to see him. The studio. The city. The campus. This wonderful time of my life ended on a bad note. I left and I never looked back. Not once have I stepped foot in Lawrence since that day. I'm glad I went back. Glad I had time to look back fondly over memories I hope to never lose. Luckily, Brian seemed to enjoy the entire weekend as much as I did.
Next morning, I get a phone call saying test results showed kidney functions are worse, bladder's infected, something's causing blockage. We immediately head to the airport, hop on the earliest flight to get home. Have an appointment today. I'll keep everyone updated.
In the meantime, click here to see some pictures from the weekend. Album is named Kansas City '05.
I know I'm going to get some hate mail from this. There are people out there that will tell me that they'ld give anything to have "the problem" that I have. Not able to keep weight on. Wanting to gain more weight. The more the better. So many people out there have to struggle with their weight on a daily basis, whether it's losing 10 pounds or 40 pounds.
I on the other hand am completely different. I've always been skinny. Slender being the more PC term. Hate the word skinny. People usually use the word with a sneer and a nasal tone. When I was 15 years old, I grew six inches in one year. Never gained an ounce. Throughout highschool, I averaged 155 pounds and six foot tall. During college, I was taking 18 hours a semester, choir, piano, plus all my studio art classes AND worked 25 hours a week at a part time job.
I never ate and dropped down to 130 pounds. I would find myself going 2-3 days and hadn't touched one bite of food. I simply forgot to eat. It wasn't until my mother noticed that my ribs were showing in my back, that she took action and did everything in her power to fatten me back up to a whopping 160 pounds. I could never get past that plateau. I was constantly asked if I ever ate anything. Jokes made about running around the shower just to get wet. Having to put a screen on the drain so I don't fall through. When I turned sideways, I disappeared. That I resembled a rake. Nothing but a long pole with teeth.
I took all the jokes in stride though. But there was nothing I could do to gain any more weight past 160 pounds. Nothing worked.
Things didn't get any easier when I became positive. My first batch of medication was nothing but AZT which made me anemic and sick to my stomach. I drastically lost weight again. When I moved to Dallas, the new batch of medication I was taking made me throw up after every meal. Before I knew it, I was back down to 130 pounds again.
Once I got on better medication without the nasty side effects, I was able to put some weight back on. Still wasn't enough. I looked sickly. Sunken in face. Size 28 jeans. You can see below what I looked like when I weighed around 135. Most people when I tell them that I've gained 43 pounds since this picture was taken, don't believe me. The first thing people say is, "WHERE did you gain the weight?"
Then I show them a before and after picture.
I'm finally gaining weight! My ultimate goal, which I thought I would never reach, was 180 pounds. Wednesday while at the doctors, I weighed in at 178 pounds.
No more skinny jokes.
And I love it.
Before.....
After......
Not much to report today other than, peeing is difficult to get started. Plus I'm a little apprehensive. I stand there each time, waiting for Fred Flinstones bowling ball to come shooting out of my penis. My stomach and back both feel like I've done a thousand crunches. Pain killers are my new best friend. I'm sick of drinking water already and Brian's the best boyfriend/nurse on the planet. Thanks for everyones well wishes yesterday. I heart you guys.
Went to the doctor yesterday to have things checked out. Basically says what everyone else has said. Take the pain killers, drink tons of water and cranberry juice, relax. Before I left, he decided to flood my system with 3 bags of fluid through an IV. I'm still puffy. They weighed me beforehand and I'm at a whopping 178 pounds! I about fell off the scale. Coming from someone who got as low as 132 and struggled to maintain 145, this is pure heaven for me. I took a pic yesterday and found a pic from two years ago. Most people don't notice the drastic change until I show them the before and after pictures. I'll post them tomorrow.
Hopefully things will be totally fine before Saturday. We found cheap roundtrip tickets to Kansas City Missouri, so we're heading out early Saturday morning for a few days to see the city, shop, find my old haunts, visit Lawrence Kansas where I went to Graduate School. Just a relaxing getaway. We'll be staying with my Nephew and his two kids. My sister is itching to come down since it's only 4 hours away. She says she wants to see her son play baseball, but I'm pretty sure she's dying to meet Brian.
Well, I'm off to try and clean up stuff around here. You leave work for one day and it seems like your little area just falls apart.
I swear all that is Kenneth Cole, I finally know exactly what it feels like for a woman who's given birth.
After lunch yesterday, I drove back to work, went to the little boys room and sat back down to my desk to continue with my daily routine. Within a few minutes, my lower righthand side of my back started to hurt. Next, my lower stomach in the front right hand started to hurt as well. I'm thinking, damn my lunch must be hitting me wrong.
Five minutes later, I'm doubled over. My boss takes one look and said "Hell Son, if you're going to look like that, you need to head home." I guess I was white as a ghost. The pain was moving back and forth from front to back. At times it would let up, then BAM! hit me like a brick.
I headed home as fast as I could. On the way home I had to pull over and got sick as hell. I was cold one minute and hot the next. I just wanted home. I barely made it. I laid in bed trying to find a comfortable position. Nothing worked. I tried peeing. Nothing worked. I honestly have never experienced pain like this before. Pain where you're yelling and screaming, asking God to help.
Brian called, heard what state I was in and drove home to take me to the emergency room at Baylor. They didn't hesitate and rushed me in the back, took my information and vitals then put me in a room. After what seemed like hours, but I know was only minutes, they were shooting me full of narcotics to take away the pain.
I heart me some good drugs.
After having a cat scan performed, the cutie patootie (yet extremely homophobic) doctor explained to me that I had basically had a kidney stone that was moving and that more then likely had passed it. Kidneys irritated, some part of something was swollen, blood in the urine. Cat scan didn't show a kidney stone, yet he's pretty sure this is what happened and that I possibly could have others lodged. They don't always show up.
Luckily, we have many friends who work for Baylor. Wasn't long before some of them were there. One in particular is the head of nursing administration. Rather then having to lay there for hours, he filled out my paperwork, discharged me and set me on my way.
With more drugs of course.
Today I'm at home. I'm awake since I normally would be at work now. I was told to take it easy since I possibly might pass another stone. Plus, I'm still pretty tender and taking pain killers at work isn't such a good idea. Another doctors appointment at 11:30am.
Another family trait I inherited. Just my luck. What we're hoping is that this doesn't have anything to do with my HIV medications. One has already caused extremely poor kidney functions in the past, but I'm not on that medication anymore. We all know how HIV meds are wonderful things that keep us alive, yet at the same time cause damage to the liver and kidneys.
Keep your fingers crossed.
I'm off to pee in a strainer and watch a soap opera.
Sometimes you can tell the way your entire day is going to go just by the little things that happen when you first wake up. You knick yourself shaving. Realized you ran out of deoderant and forgot to stop by Target last night. You realized that you forgot to do laundry the night before and you have to go commando at work today. You're running late and realize that you don't have time to grab some breakfast. Once you get to your car to look down to notice you don't have any gas and need to fill up before traveling one more block. Things get worse once you get on the highway and it's at a standstill due to gawkers looking at a wreck on the other side of the interstate.
No, I didn't have a morning like that yesterday, but I have before. We all have at some point and time. At that point we either have two choices. Let all the bullshit affect us and ruin the rest of our day or right then and there decide to not let the irritating circumstances of the morning, set a pattern for the rest of the afternoon.
We alone have the power to decide the outcome and pattern of our day. Don't get me wrong, there are certain situations or events that can totally wreck your day or even week for that matter, which more then not, is out of our control. Being fired from your job. Totalling out your car due to some idiot ahead of you. Missing a Red Apple Sale at Foley's. Ok, that last one is only for me. Even in more harsh circumstances, we still have a choice on how we react to these situations and how we let these situations affect us.
I'm feeling a rant coming on regarding Quantum Physics and the movie What The *bleep* Do We Know coming on, but I promise to spare you the pain. This post is going down that road on it's own.
Yesterday I had the chance to make my day a great one and instead made a big pile of doggie doo doo instead.
Get to work and of course there's no coffee made and we all know what Marky's like with no coffee. A stark raving mad little bitch, that's what. I turn on my computer and things are locking up. I see emails in my inbox that start my blood pressure to skyrocket. New employee shows up late and his system doesn't work, no sign-on's ready, half of his programs are not even installed yet and no one at the helpdesk will HELP me. My Manager walks in as if someone just pissed in his Cherrios.
So I just sat there, pulled out my MP3 player, adjusted the headset and calmed myself with some Nora Jones. I figured I would get out of the office for a change, stop by the bank, get some Pepcid at Walgreen's and grab some fast food to bring back.
Big mistake.
Taco Bell (don't judge me) had a line all the way onto the street. I went to KFC and the line is just as long. After cussing like a sailor, I decided that "I want chicken dammit!" and go inside to order.
I get behind Nazi Boy. This tall beautiful 20 something year old with a red goatee and blue eyes, is covered in tattoos. One arm is covered in huge swastika's and the other in the Nazi Secret Service symbol. Naked women, flames and spiderwebs spiral out from the images of hate, covering his entire arms. His legs have images of Hitler and the word HATE down the back of one calf.
I stood there, blatantly staring at his body in disgust. The black woman behind me just stood there shaking her head. The four black men behind her kept their heads down, trying to sneak peaks at him without him looking. Then in walked and elderly couple who had to be in their mid eighties. It didn't take them long to notice the boy. Took them a minute to make out what was covered all over his body.
There was a look of utter shock on the old womans face. The older man, I swear to you, was getting tears in his eyes as he put his hand over his mouth. They both hung their heads and started to whisperand shake their heads. I was so disgusted with my morning, trying to get some lunch and then finally seeing this piece of shit covered in hate standing boldly in front of me chatting with his buddy, then talking on his cell phone while holding up the line. Finally, I decided to leave and get food elsewhere.
I wasn't going to let him ruin the rest of my afternoon. Sad thing, is I'm sure that man affected that elderly couples day and a few others along the way too.
Sometimes when things just aren't going your way or you come in contact with people who push you to your limits, you often have to pull yourself back and just breathe....
....and often walk away.
Nothing like a whole day on Cedar Creek Lake with friends. Nothing like drinking yourself stupid in the hot sun. Nothing like riding a Sea Doo along with a woman who's bat-shit crazy. Nothing like hanging with a group called The Parrot Heads.
Psycho Jimmy Buffet Fan Club. Yikes.
Once we made it to the Parrot Head Party towards the end of the day, it was nothing but a sea of mullets, bad teeth, hawaiian shirts and people belting out the song, Margaritaville. You want to talk about being totally out of your element.
The day started easily enough with us hopping on the pontoon boat with 6 enormous coolers of alcohol and only ten people. Do the math.
We hung out with my old roomie, Tina, her husband, her daughter and son-in-law. The latter one with whom I got to know MUCH better by the end of the day. *ahem* Seconds before leaving the dock, Y and L showed up to join us. Y just started managing a Quickie Mart in East Texas. We called him Apu all day long. Having a Quickie Mart in the heart of redneck East Texas isn't easy from what he tells us. He tells everyone he's hispanic and they believe him. Safer then them finding out he's from Afghanistan. East Texas would have it's first lynching in years. Why do I live in Texas?
The day started off mostly cloudy. You could see an approaching storm which never fully surfaced, but caused high winds and waves for the first few hours before clearing up. None of this stopped me from hopping on a Sea Doo with the crazy woman driver and a lesbian friend of ours.
Here are some Sea Don'ts on a Sea Doo:
1. Never, EVER under any circumstances start off your Sea Doo experience when you have to pee OR poop. All that lake water and bouncing up and down is bound to have dire results. I have no problem peeing in the lake, but like hell I'm going to poop in it. I couldn't WAIT until we got back to the clubhouse.
2. Always wear a protective cup for your balls. You won't have any by the time your done traveling 45 miles an hour across huge waves for an hour.
3. A lesbian screaming "WHOOOO HOOOOO!!!!" constantly will make the crazy driver...well, drive more crazy.
4. Make sure your lesbian friend in front of you doesn't mind a man holding on for dear life and accidently grabbing her coochy and boobies is NOT going to be a problem.
5. Make sure your co-riders don't mind you screaming like a little girl.
6. Don't tell your co-riders that you're really not a very good swimmer when you're sitting out in the middle of this enormous lake when you can barely make out the shoreline in the distance.
7. Do not try and out run a speed boat. You'll lose.
8. Spinning in really fast circles will definately cause you to be violently thrown off the Sea Doo, causing bruised hips, legs and feet. Oh, and your balls will definately be pushed up to your chin.
9. Make sure this doesn't happen when you have hoards of onlookers.
I felt like I had been fucked long and hard all night long afterwards, and not in a good way. After hanging out with the Parrot Heads, we decided it was time to go, so the son-in-law told me he would take me back to the cabin on the Sea Doo which was across the lake. When he said, "hang on", I should have listened more carefully. I managed to not fall off, but I don't think that S.O.B. ever had a man hold him so tight. I asked him how fast he was going. He told me, "Oh, around 45mph."
Bullshit. I looked down and he was traveling 65 miles an hour. Let's just say my dick got to know his ass pretty damn well that 2 minutes it took to get across the lake and my knees were squeezing him like a vice grip.
Maybe he'll think twice about scaring this homo next time.
People with limited computer skills like I have, DO! Some of us are so computertarded that we have to wear a helmet while sitting at our desks. We also take a short bus to work.
So all of you binary code running through your veins, measure your penis in bytes and a hot friday night date for you is an evening of writing code *yawn*, remember some of us struggle on a daily basis with things you dream about in your sleep.
I was like this yesterday. Seriously. Almost to the point of tears. I lost count the number of cusswords I said, the number of times I threw my pencil or stapler or the times I walked away from my desk, wishing I could just slap a fellow co-worker just to make myself feel better. I can write calcs and handle mapping/gridding for the documents I create at work, I know the systems we use at work like the back of my hand *where did I get that mole?*, update and alter my blog to a point, but God forbid I can figure out how to use the fucking not-so-user-friendly thing called Adobe Acrobat 6.0.
That's one sadistic son-of-a-bitch whoever designed that program. He should have a hot-poker shoved up his ass while forced to sing like Ethel Merman.
Luckily, the geekiest person in our IT department is a self proclaimed Adobe Acrobate Guru. Gee, I wonder if that's on his resume' or uses that as a pickup line to meet girls.
I'm better know, despite the small stroke and mild heart attack that I swear it caused. The veins on the side of my forehead seriously could knock things over. After a puddle of drool was wiped up from my desk, cleared away my tears and said a thank you prayer to Cher, I was better.
Crisis averted.
I wish I was like all the geeks that I know, including my hubby. He thinks a fun time consist of heading out to Fry's, Circuit City, Best Buy and CompUSA for a romantic stroll through the isles, checking out hard drives, burners, flat screens and gig this or gig that. I usually just leave him be and head over to the dvd or cd isle.
That which does not kill us, makes us stronger, right?
*sigh*
Off tonight to another birthday dinner and tomorrow spending the day on a lake somewhere in BFE.
I can't promise penis shots, but I can promise a sunburn.
Check out todays Zeitcast 2.
A Night of Boobies.
Mama and Twyla Starlett
Maya and I
Cute Straight Couple we Adopted
Straight Boy, Mama and Casey Nova
Whitney Paige and Boyfriend
Krystal Summers and I
Krystal Summers in all her glory
It was time for this years GGE deux. Glenn's Grand Entrance into the city of Dallas. Even Manny's Tex Mex Restaurant prepared for his arrival by presenting us with a Rainbow colored umbrella. We were lucky in the fact that it coinsided with the first meeting with one of my best friends from graduate school, Jim from Orange.Paper.Bike. Sadly enough over the past 8 years, despite living in the same city, we've never gotten around to having dinner or drinks. Boy, did we ever make up for lost time. We been through so much together in the past so it was wonderful to see him.
Below you'll see starting on the left, Glenn's friend Brian, Glenn himself, empty chair where I would be sitting, Brian the boyfriend, Scott, his friend Jim, Jim in hiding(orange.paper.bike), Glenn's friend Chad and finally Glenn's friend James. Yes, having two Brians, two Jim's and one James, made for an interesting evening. Brian, Chad, James and Glenn all went to school together in Lubbock, so it as like a mini college reunion.
A table of very sweet drunks next to us offered to take a group shot.
After some incredible mexican food and margs, Lord knows we couldn't stop there. On to more drinking!
Jim, Brian and Scott (I love his 'Who Flung Poo' t-shirt)
Jim and I
Chad and Brian
Glenn protesting showing his chest hairs.
It took two seconds for him to cave in.
After much talking, laughing, flashing of cameras and drinking, this crowd was spent and ready to go home.
Thanks for a great night guys and have a safe trip Glenn. It was great seeing you.
Check out my yahoo photo album called July 12th Birthdays... for more photos of the evening. No, the penis shot is NOT Glenn's.
It is that time of year again and I come to you for help. I have been positive since 1992. I have close friends that are positive. Many people I casually meet from day to day are positive. Unlike so many others out there, I've only lost a few people in my life. I know people who have lost almost every single friend they've ever had. Yet, times are changing and advancements are being made, but without your help none of this would be possible.
The Dallas AIDS Arms Walk will be happening this year on October 1, 2005. Last year I was fortunate enough to raise a substantial amount of money for the cause, primarily due to the generous donations from my readers and friends.
Whether it's 5 or 500 dollars, every single dollar is appreciated more then you realize. I have set a larger goal this year of $1000.00. That's $250.00 more then last years goal which I surpassed. I want to kick last years goal in the ass. To do that, I need your help.
You may donate through my online fundraising page with a debit or credit card or may send a check to me personally. Please contact me for address information. The link to donate will be left on this site until the day of the walk in October.
Click here for online donation.
Thank you.
Another whirlwind weekend come and gone. We ended our weekend last night at the Round Up Saloon's 25th Anniversary party, ran into an Ex I hadn't seen in 8 years, followed two comedy drag queens around from bar to bar and of course documented the entire evening in pictures. Those will have to wait until tomorrow.
Either tonight or tomorrow, we'll be having dinner with Glenn from Glennalicious and my long term friend Jim, aka James to many, from Orange.Paper.Bike. It will be great to see them both.
Thanks for all the compliments on last Friday's first ZeitCast. You'll be hearing more from time to time.
It's summer now. A time for road trips, pool parties, dinners on the patio and of course, the time for county fairs. My first experience was a unique one to say the least.
I was only 5 years old when I can first remember going to our local County Fair back in Nebraska with my sister. The streets are full of long lines waiting to get in. We drove up in her pale yellow 1965 Mustang. Her pride and joy. Men with flags, waving you in the correct direction to park. It seemed like we walked for miles.
The year was 1970. I remember my sister having the tightest and widest bell bottoms I had ever seen. Platform shoes, big hair, full, flowing shirt. A band was playing at the stadium. I asked her who that was, but all I remember her saying it was an up and coming rock band.
We walked towards the bright, flashing lights and smells of cotton candy and roasted peanuts. Carnivale Barkers whistled and catcalled at my sister while we walked in. She was quite the looker back then. Still is a matter of fact. I never let go of her hand. The sounds and smells were overwhelming and I was afraid of getting separated from her.
She first took me to the 4-H barns to see the cows, sheep, pigs and goats. We didn't grow up on a farm. We were big city dwellers. 25,000 people to be exact. Only time we saw a barnyard animal was driving down the highway. I saw my first enormous sculpture made entirely out of butter. The overgrown vegatables, baked pies, cakes and quilts, each with a red, blue or purple ribbon filled the huge pavillions.
After a barrage of questions and tugging on her index finger, she finally took me to the Midway to eat, play a few games and ride a few kiddie rides. After filling my tummy with cotton candy, candy apples and sloppy joes (it's a midwest thing), picking up a little plastic duck in the water to see what prize I had won and riding a lame ride that barely went up and down, we walked by a ride called the Octopus. Eight long arms with small little cars on each end that spun around while the entire group of arms spun also. Music played loudly over the speakers.
Handsome Carney's were trying to convince us both to come over and ride for free. "Bring the little one", they said. Normally someone my age and height wasn't allowed on the adult rides, so my sister leaned down and asked if I would be too scared. Hell, I had no idea. I had never been on an adult ride before so I agreed. The flirtatious Carney helped my sister in the car and then grabbed me under my arms and lifted me into place. He smelled of cigarettes.
He told me to hold on real tight and not let go.
The flirting continued until people in line and already on the ride were getting irritated. He called over two of his buddies. After surrounding our round little car, they started spinning us around and around. Faster and faster. This went on for what seemed like many minutes. My sister was screaming, but in a good way.
I was screaming also.
Not in a good way.
The ride started too move. The whole world was a blur. I couldn't see anything. I tried to claw at my sister. I remember her yelling at me to just hold onto the bar and just enjoy myself. I couldn't. I wanted off so desperately, that I tried to climb out while the ride was going full force. To prevent me from falling out, my sister literally had to sit on me. The Carney's thought this was hilarious while my sister screamed for them to stop and let us off.
They didn't.
Towards the end, the only thing I could think of was the fact that my sloppy joes, candy apple and cotton candy was going to come back up.
Within seconds, the ride stopped and we were let off. My sister was helped out first. The Carney grabbed me under the arms again to lift me out while saying, "Oh, now it wasn't that bad was it little buddy?"
"BLWWWAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!"
That's when everything I had eaten flew out of my mouth with such force and hit him right square in the middle of his chest. The mixture of those three isn't a pleasant thing coming back up. My sister couldn't stop laughing. Once my stomach was emptied, I put my hand over my mouth and giggled along.
I'm sure he thought twice about ever spinning a little kid again, just to get to the girl.
That night started my love for county and state fairs, confirmed my hatred for clowns and my attraction for ruff Carney's.
But most of all the thrill for being scared shitless on every ride I could get my hands on.
After listening to my silly ass voice, I'm wasn't sure I wanted to post this podcast this morning. Too many Uh's and Um's. Too many y'alls and twangy tone. I know I have a reptutation for butchness *cough* and masculinity *snort* to uphold and didn't want that reputation tarnished at all. *giggle*
Who am I kidding. I'm not all polished and suave like Archerr Radio and can't tell you interesting stories of The Days When I Was A Stripper like my bladdy (blog daddy) V-Hold. Shameless plug for them both. Instead, I pick a favorite old song of mine, splice it up and instert me rambling on about nothing for a few minutes. I actually think the song is longer then what I have to say, which is an encounter with a crazy woman yesterday at the grocery store.
I still prefer writing things down rather then talking into a microphone. Editing this shit is time consuming and since I have no hair on my head left, it makes me want to pluck out chest or butt hairs.
So enjoy some music, enjoy my story, enjoy hearing my extremely West Texan Boyfriend and ending with words of wisdom.
You'll be hearing from us again.
Last night after drinks with friends and a wonderful dinner of roasted salmon, mashed potatoes, carrots and sugar snap peas (I didn't touch the carrots and sugar snap peas, by the way, those were for Brian. Eww!), we settled down for a rare moment and watched television.
We sat there glued to the set while we watched Dancing with the Stars. I'm not very big on most reality TV except for American Idol, which is a trainwreck in and of itself. I'm just pissed that I missed the entire season and only saw the last episode plus last nights grand finale. Is it me or does everyone have a secret desire to be able to ballroom dance? No? Just me? Ok, my secret is finally out. Ah to be Fred Astaire or hell, Ginger Rogers for that matter. She did have pretty dresses.
I had remembered at 9pm last night was a show on FX called 30 Days. The hunky and ever so adorkable Morgan Spurlock who brought us the groundbreaking documentary, Super Size Me started this new series. 30 Days is a reality show which forces people in situations for 30 days and to see how each person is affected or changed. The initial episode shows him and his wife trying to survive living off minimum wage jobs. Another episode takes a strict, devout Christian man and places him in a large Muslim community in Dearborn Michigan.
Tonights episode takes another staunch Christian 24 year old male, ex military, from a small rural community and places him with a gay roommate who lives in the heart of the Castro in San Francisco. The man shows you his picture of Jesus on the wall, his sports trophies and all what he calls his baby's. His rifles. He immediately says that homosexuality is a sin. It's wrong. The Bible tells us so. Blah blah, repeititive bullshit, blah. We all know their mantra.
First night, he's taken to Daddy's of all places. Nothing like submerging him in San Francisco culture. He's disgusted at the behavior, gets into an argument with someone who wants him kicked out of the bar, freaks when someone looks at him or touches him. He even takes a job in the Castro at a wine and cheese store, having to learn what Pecorino cheese is. He couldn't BE more out of his element.
Throughout the 30 days, he struggles and stands firmly on his beliefs. He has heated, uncomfortable discussions during dinners with friends. He attends a local MCC church, visits with the pastor and meets a local Gay Veteran Chapter. Making enemies all along the way.
Things finally start to change once he meets his roommates family and see how much they love and accept him. Finally his eyes are starting to open, yet he still will tell you that being gay is a sin. He's a stubborn little shit. He joins a softball team with his roommate and learns that the stereotypes he has made in his mind aren't all true.
Yet, I'm thinking towards the end of the show that the 30 days was probably a waste of time for him. He probably hadn't learned enough to change.
That all changes when he visits a PFLAG group and sits with an elderly man as he passionately talks about his daughter. He talks about his love for her, his worries and concerns about discrimination, her rights and freedoms. It wasn't long before I'm sitting there in tears, listening to this man talk about the love of his life and watching the straight boys heart start to change. He finally had to agree with the older man. You could see him struggle.
His last thing before he left was throwing a wine and cheese party for everyone he had met the past 30 days. He gives a wonderful speech thanking everyone for helping him open his eyes and making him a changed person. He gives his roommate a framed picture of them together and gives him a hug before he leaves. The roommate gets tears in his eyes telling him good bye and that he'll be missed.
While sitting with his parents showing them pictures and telling them all about his experiences living in the Castro, he says it with a gleam in his eye. Then his father asks, "Would you ever go back?"
"Oh yeah", he said quietly.
I was a blubbering mess by the end.
Homophobia stems from ignorance. People have either never been around our culture or they have been taught to think or believe a certain way. During my years in graduate school, most of my closest friends were straight men. Guys who hadn't known anyone that was gay, already had issues with homosexuality and even one who admitted to me at one point had even acted violently towards someone who was gay.
Those guys were some of the best friends I've ever had. One of them I'm still good friends with today and he even reads my blog every morning. I love him to death.
Sometimes all it takes is meeting that one person who can help open their eyes, open their heart and change how they think and believe. One person to prevent them from going down the same path of ignorance and hatred their entire life. One person to start just a small spark of acceptance which can be taken back and spread to other people they know. They start a spark with a friend. And so on, and so on....
People can change.
We can change them.
Sidenote: Our thoughts and prayers going out to everyone in London today.
First off let's admit it, I'm lazy. Secondly, I haven't a clue of what to say today. Thirdly,....where was I going with this? Oh yeah, we're beat.
I think it's all due to the amount of alcohol consumed over the holiday weekend. Betty Ford has already fixed us up with a double bed, complete with a view of the grounds. It's all pickled my brain, which makes it difficult for a clear and concise train of thought. We both have done nothing but lounge around the apartment since this past weekend and watch mindless shows like Family Guy and American Dad while eating pizza, chocolate chip cookies and diet Coke. They use Splenda now you know. Sure it taste good now. Better then that shit you find in the blue or pink packets at your local restaurant. But I'm sure we will find out in the future that it causes testicles to shrivel up or fingers to fall off.
Where was I? Oh yeah. We're tired. Even going to bed early. Trying to make the other one get up and get ourselves something from the fridge because walking ten feet is just too damn much. If I could convince Brian to carry me to bed at night, which is only 15 feet from the living room by the way, I would. I did complete 2 loads of laundry which was an amazing feat considering our condition.
We sit around saying, "What do you want to do?" "I don't know, what do YOU want to do?" "I don't know, I asked you first" "What do YOU want to do?!" "I honestly don't know!" *long pause* "So, you want to go out and do anything?"....."I don't know, do you?" "I don't know.....how about you?"
By then we're too exhausted to even have sex. We just blow air kisses to each other from one couch to the other and wave. Once our heads finally hit the pillow, he's making those cute little snorting noises within seconds and hogging my side of the bed, while I just reach over and put my arm around him to cuddle.
Then he usually ruins that beautiful moment by passing gas.
So before I sit here at my desk for the rest of the day, trying to stay awake by drowning myself in really bad coffee, I leave you with this little Meme that was handed to me by Mandrake Society a week ago or so. Yeah, I'm a little bit behind.
1. What did you really love as a kid that you still really like now?
I would have to say amusement parks. I have fond memories as a kid, going to the local county or state fair with my sister or with my entire family, which now that I think about it, is a whole post by itself for another day. I totally become a little kid the minute I walk through the gates of Six Flags.
2. What did you really love as a kid that you don’t like now?
Unlike my other half, I would have to say Cartoons. I would grab my blankie and a bowl of cereal and sit wide-eyed in front of the TV at 6am every Saturday morning and watch for hours. They only cartoon I can stand watching now is The Simpsons and I don't even take the time to watch that one much anymore.
3. What did you hate as a kid that you still don’t like now?
Vegetables. My mother said that I would spit them out as a baby and I'll spit them out like a baby now. Well ok, I'll chew them up and swallow them with a horrible look on my face, but I'm getting better. There's a handfull I can eat if prepared a specific way. Battered and fried.
I have to at least list two things. SPORTS! Hated them then, hate them now. I was always that one kid who was picked last every single fucking time in school. The kid no one wanted on their team. Humiliating. Sad thing is that I wasn't half bad at softball, good at volleyball and incredible in track. Sitting and watching any sort of sporting event is pure torture for me. Unless there is tons of beer and lots of hotties to gawk at.
4. What did you hate as a kid but kinda (or really) like now?
Food. As a child, my mother had trouble getting me to eat anything but peanut butter sandwiches and potato chips or tomato soup and grilled cheese. Now, I'll pretty much try anything at least once.
Chew it and swallow it but with a horrible look on my face, but still.
That's all the mindless dribble for today. Be prepared to be hearing the first Zeitcast here at the House of Zeity by the end of the week. I don't like the name podcast or audioblog. They're both too sterile and not very personalized. Plus, we all know I have to be different. Rather then the long radio styled podcast, you'll hear fun music and the short ramblings of myself and my other half. Just us being silly. No train of thought, no planned out topics, no format what so ever.
I know you can only handle the both of us in short doses.
For those not getting the chance to see any fireworks today, click here to see what we were treated to for an hour straight last night. If you have dial up, don't bother. Run out and get you some DSL.
We were invited to Ennis Texas to our friends Ranch for a 4th of July Celebration. I'm sure the fireworks scared the living hell out of the longhorns and horsies only yards away and were probably found dead of heart attacks this morning.
The BBQ/Pool party was an a lot of fun. Although felt like an 8th grade Junior Highschool dance in the beginning. It was as if people were scared shitless to walk up to someone and say Hi. Everyone was very quiet, mingling only in small groups of people they knew personally. Eating their ribs, potato salad and brisket quietly. It didn't help that the music was the local Easy Listening station, KVIL and we were subjected to hearing people call in ooey gooey sappy love songs to Delilah .
This is what happens when you pee in the pool too much everyone. The water turns to Mountain Dew. Drunk Brian thought it was absolutely funny as hell to continuously use his butt to block out the pool lights which changed colors from pea green to pink.
After changing the music to Country, passing out jello shots and what we called Pretty Juice, the evening became more festive. People started swimming, men became frisky, oversized men started doing cannon balls creating numerous tsunami's that almost forced people out of the pool. I think I had more chlorine in my beer then anything else.
Once blaring dance music was playing, it was all pretty much downhill from there. For example, what 4th of July wouldn't be complete without Brian and frends doing water ballet. Half crocked.
By midnight, we were exhausted and Brian was drunker then Cooter Brown. Oh and wouldn't you know it, people were in a corner showing their pee pees and I had my camera ready. WHY on earth does this happen every single party we go to? But hell, if people are whipping it out and wanting a photo op, I'm more then happy to oblige. Click this partially NSFW link to view the entire album.
Happy 4th of July from this hungover couple.
We all have them. It could be watching "Being Bobby Brown" on the Bravo Network or people who like to Polka Dance. It's something you honestly don't like to admit in public that you absolutely LOVE.
Despite growing up in the midwest, as a youngin', I never liked country music that much. I found the lyrics to be silly, the music to be twangy and their voices to be nasal.
Once a year my family would travel down to Odessa Texas to visit my Grandmother. Typical West Texas woman with high hair, lots of make up, big jewelry and a southern drawl that would melt a buttered biscuit. She owned a local tavern called Marie's Drive Inn. Back in the 30's, it was a "white in front, black in back" restaurant and bar. Luckily, all that changed by 1950. Things were different in the South back then. I'm not proud of this fact, but it's important to the period of time. If she had her way, the place wouldn't have been set up like this. Her patrons liked it that way and she appeased them for a while until she had enough.
Grandma was the owner, the cook and the bouncer. If you wanted an ol' fashioned chicken fried steak, creamed red-eyed gravy, collard greens and a ice cold beer, this was the place to be. I even saw her manhandle a 250 pound man and threw him out of her bar. She could beat anyone at pool.
Domino's and poker were played in the back. Shuffleboard and pool in the front. Half the patrons used Marie's as their home away from home. A place where everyone knew your name and your business. A place where people swapped receipes for Okra fried with a jalapeno and cornbread coating or sat and talked about how the Dallas Cowboys were going to be doing in the upcoming season. Pickled Onions and eggs sat in jars on the bar. Cokes came in those minature 6 inch high coke bottles. Beer Nuts and Chips hung on racks behind the bar. Mavis was the bartender who called everyong Darlin', Sweetie or Punkin.
This place was magical to me. The highlight of each year was taking a road trip to see Grandma. To have her cook for us, spoil us rotten and buy us anything that we asked.
I swear my cheeks were covered in cherry red lipstick for five days straight. She was a wonderful woman. After closing her bar, her and whatever number of husband she was on at the time, would get their shit together and go dancing until 3 o'clock in the morning.
Mixed with the loud, smokey and musty ambience of Marie's, was the music. Grandma stopped swapping out music in the jukebox around 1979. "I ain't playin' that shit in my bar" she'd say regarding newer country music. "That stuff is shiiiiiit". She could draw out the word shit longer then anyone I knew.
I never cared for the music, but it fit with the overall mood of the bar. Twangy, nasal, silly assed lyrics.
Now, I love it. I miss it. It's my guilty pleasure. Wish I could go back and sit there with Grandma and sing along with Tammy, Loretta, Dolly or Conway.
Here's what you would have heard. Take a moment and listen:
(Links removed after two weeks)
The Pill - Loretta Lynn
You're the reason our kids are ugly - Loretta Lynn & Conway Twitty
Your Good Girl's Gonna Go Bad - Tammy Wynette
It Wasn't God Who Made Honky Tonk Angels - Tammy, Loretta & Dolly
Heaven's Just A Sin Away - Tammy Wynette
Grandma passed away about 6 years ago. Her drinking, smoking and dancing days were over. You can still go to Odessa Texas, head down Texas Avenue and see her bar sitting there across the street from the empty Piggly Wiggly grocery store.
Same place, same look and the same name.
