When Brian and I started showering, we both could swear we still smelled the oder of burning wood. Sitting around campfires for almost 3 days can cause that I guess. The weather averaged a beautiful 75 degrees during the day and 45 at night. It couldn't get any more perfect then that.
Brad, Dusty, Brandon, Brian and I all had a fantastic weekend filled with costumes, drinking, cooking and hanging out by a campfire. We arrived early enough to get settled in before dusk and started drinking right away. So many of our friends were there, plus we met so many new ones who seemed to be as batshit crazy as we all were. I knew the first evening was going downhill when Jaymee started passing around a bottle of peach schnapps. You'll see in the video how that was like adding fuel to the fire.
After cooking a wonderful breakfast, we lounged around all day recovering before Brian and I started our transformation into goateed 60's goddesses. Even Brandon and Brad got into the spirit and dressed up as Sailor Men, aka Semen. When walking around together, we ended up looking like two hookers the Sailors picked up while on shore leave. Next year we're getting Dusty in a dress. It's kind of funny to watch grown people act like kids on this one night of the year. Some even carry their costumes to the next level and physically ACT like their character all night.
These people scare the livin' shit out of me.
We were quite a hit with the crowd. We lost 1st place to someone who work nothing but a fish net over his cowboy garb and covered the net in boxes of Jello. What was his costume you might ask?
Annette Fullofjello.
Let me just say that I have a renewed respect for women who wear heels. Walking around in gogo boots on through a campfield littered with rocks, gravel, dirt, stumps and whatever the hell else, isn't an easy thing to do. My calves are still killing me. Some of us were so exhausted, we didn't last long that night. Others stayed up for much longer and were dragging their ass back to the Streamline in the wee hours of the morning. I'm glad I'm not a dragqueen nor have the desire to ever become one. First off, I don't have the closet space, but Bad Boydrag is pretty fun.
The rest of Sunday was spent out by another campfire, cooking, chatting and relaxing before the horrible task of cleaning up and packing. The more we go to Rainbow Ranch, the more we feel a part of this huge family of great people. Little by little.
Before you know it, maybe we'll be purchasing our very own camper and soon you can call us Regulars.
But before I sign off here, I bring you a video and photo montage of the weekend.
Click here to view the entire photo album.
After lunch I'm off for the rest of the afternoon to get ready for the Halloween camping trip. Little did we know, but a handful of Brians close friends, plus a good number of other friends we have are going to be there this weekend also. We had no clue.
I promise to come back with Photos and a ZeitCast or two. Once I get back, it will be time to hang out with a new friend from Germany who I met through this website. She will be here visiting family for a few weeks. She keeps saying I have to drink some German drink called a Geschpritz or some word like it that causes you to spit when you say it. Beer and Coke. Crazy ass Germans.
I hope everyone has a fun and safe Halloween Weekend!
I really do must be stressed to some degree. Last night I had many bizarre dreams, which it totally normal for me. It's something one of the medications cause and I've simply gotten accustomed to it. Most of the dreams are just plain weird. Often they can be intense. But never in my entire life were they as horrible as what you're about to witness.
Brian and I were dressed up in our drag costumes and were walking around a street party in another city. I couldn't tell exactly where we were at, but for some odd reason it reminded me of the State Fair. Brian had on the huge afro and I was wearing the long straight blonde wig. Let me preface by saying that last night I spent almost a full hour brushing the damn wig I bought so it will look silky smooth and straight. Back to the dream. During the course of the evening, I kept brushing my hair over and over until I had brushed a bloody spot on the back of my head and the wig was almost completely without hair. A friend saw me totally freak out, because how could I be a proper 60's chick without good hair? So I immediately bought another one at the local Walgreens and he took it to have it prepared for me by a professional stylist.
When he came back he was wearing my wig in order to keep all the hairs in place. He was so proud that he was able to help me in my time of need. Anxiously, I look up at him, (for some reason he seemed 8 feet tall) he had my new wig cut and reshaped.
In the style of a Red Neck Mullet.
I literally screamed in horror.
Thank God I woke up. I'm still a tad bit shaken this morning. Luckily I get to start training the New Boy today to be my replacement.
I need something to take my mind of that horrible nightmare.
I made a small threat around here at work saying that they'll be totally fucked if they don't offer the ONE guy we interviewed (who is 100% perfect for the position and even has all the experience needed) to replace me, a good salary and do it soon so I can start training. I'm not sure why I feel the need to leave them well prepared before I leave, but it's just in my nature. Plus, my Manager has always been like a pseudo-Dad to me more then a boss. I owe it to him. Luckily, they listened to me and he shows up here tomorrow.
Work is planning a potluck for tomorrow. Next week my SVP and Manager are taking me out to lunch. Happy hour is planned with all my co-worker buddies on my last day. Three other co-workers want to take me to lunch or dinner between now and then before I leave. Great, they want me fat and drunk my last few days here.
The inside of my ear is sore, which is causing my throat to be a tad bit tender on the same side. Strangest thing, is that the entire one side of my head and face on the same side as the ear problem feels raw to the touch. I mean, what the fuck? I'm not getting sick. I'm not getting sick. I'm not getting sick.....
I'm realizing that the only reason people want us to wear jockstraps under our dresses is so y'all can see the pictures. *shakes finger* Maybe we'll wear NOTHING underneath.
My good friend from Germany who's coming to visit is bringing me a bottle of Absinth. I'm not sure what I'm going to do with it, but I've always wanted to have a real bottle, not the fake crap they sell here in the States. I think I'm too chicken to even try it. This coming from someone who back in the day tried almost every drug known to man at one time. Now that I'm a good, upstanding boy, those days are long gone. But it sure will look pretty sitting amongst our bottles of wine and liquor. Anyone ever dance with the green fairy?
A "closeted" homo who sits next to me at work told me my shirts are way too flashy and that his solid colored, button down dress shirts were much nicer. *gasps* I know, I know. He came an inch from having his balls shoved in his mouth. How dare he blaspheme all that is Kenneth Cole. I told him at least I didn't own 25 solid colored, boring shirts in various shades of brown, grey and blue and that I paid more then 2.99 each for my shirts. I'm not saying that all us Homo's have good fashion sense, but give me a break. That guy is so tightly wound up, you could shove a piece of coal up his ass and he would shit out a diamond. I have a feeling it's a good thing I'm leaving in a week.
I've realized that when either Brian and I are getting into a pissy mood, we use the excuse, "I need to eat...my blood sugar is dropping", way too much.
Well, that is all. Back to your regular scheduled programming.
Last night, the boys and I decided to have an organizational meeting to discuss our upcoming Big Ol' Gay Halloween Camping Extravaganza. Nothing like doing some organizing with shots of tequilla I always say. After discussing what supplies and food to bring the hot topic became what kinds of alcohol would be most important. It seems we're good at prioritizing also.
I have a hard enough time walking drunk in regular shoes, let alone knee high gogo boots and a huge afro puff, while trekking through the campgrounds. This should be interesting. Someone asked if we were shaving before transforming ourselves into Drag Goddesses. No. Unless you have a good 6 hour slot free to come over and bring your weed wacker, it's not going to happen. Hairy armpits, back, leg, chest and facial hair will be untouched. Although I'm not sure how to properly apply icey blue lipstick through all that hair. Could you imagine us shaving everything? *hears Jimbo's blood curddling screams all the way from DC*
I shaved my chest one time and it's something I'll never do again. I itched and scratched myself until I was almost bloody for month. The one time I shaved my balls? I remember just standing there in front of the mirror, tilting my head slighty to the left, staring at these two bright pink clean shaven appendages hanging from an extemely hairy body. After throwing myself into a fit of giggles that lasted for what seemed like hours, I slapped my own hand and swore to myself never to do that again.
This years costome is just two boys putting on a dress and wig, trying to look as horrible as possible. Nothing more, nothing less. I won't have my Masculinity Card taken away from me, will I? Wait a minute. I guess yesterdays video cinches that deal.
MY biggest concern? What do we wear underneath our dresses? First of all, the hemlines come inches below our junk. I don't know about y'all, but I have some low hangers. Then again, the weather is going to be cold, so maybe that won't be a problem due to shrinkage and all. But to avoid the constant pulling up of our dresses to cop a feel (because you know how pervy people are), we'll probably have to wear something to hide the boys. I'm thinking cotton lace panties. Your thoughts? The idea of having to walk into Wally World and stand there with Brian trying to buy the right size womens panties doesn't sound like my idea of a good time. Maybe we can ask Bubba and his wife Eunice for help deciding on little read hearts of tiny little daisies.
Wouldn't be any worse then trying on dayglow colored gogo boots at a store we found where hookers shop while a HOT off duty police officer stood guard at the front door. I'm sure he's seen everything before though.
Just a thought. Do we get to use the women's restroom on this special night and do I have to sit and pee?
Lots to talk about, so try to keep up. Here we go...
We started off our whirlwind weekend Friday night with Fright Fest at Six Flags. We're expecting a ghastly and ghoulish night with fog machines, creepy lighting and monsters around every corner trying their damnest to make me shit my britches. Well, unless you have an extreme phobia of things covered in a tattered gauzelike material, it's no different then any other night. Should have named it Gauze Fest. All four of us did have probably one of the best times though, running from one rollercoaster to another. Only pissy part was having three of them break down at one point during the evening. By 11pm, we were plum tuckered and ready for bed.
Can't leave without a funnel cake right?
The next morning? Brian and I were at the Texas State Fair by noon.
We thought we would spend the next few hours looking at cars, exhibits, eat until we were stuffed and possibly ride a few rides. Then our friend Mama showed up and we didn't end up leaving until 9pm. That's when the craziness started. We rode and ate until we were making ourselves sick. Watched an amazing Bird Show. Mama flirted with a hot carney. And rode what we thought was a mild kiddie rollercoaster called Crazy Mouse. Little spinning seat that holds four, spinning freely on a roller coaster track. Simple enough, right?
Little did we know......
(Zeitcast 7 Video, running time 2:29min)
The saddest part was that we were the only people screaming like little girls the entire ride. Brian was laughing until he got so light headed. And I was doing everything possible not to drop my camera while filming and screaming.
We rode it twice.
Best part about the fair? Peanut butter, jelly and banana sandwiches, dipped in batter and deep fat fried. Covered with powdered sugar and banana sauce, just to cut back on the sweetness. Pure slice of heaven right there.
There's always been something magical about the sights, smells and sounds of a Midway. Blaring music, colorful swirling lights, screams and of course the smell of cotton candy. If I could afford it, I would spend every single night there for just a few hours.
A feast for the senses.
Check out our Fright Fest photos here and State Fair photos here.
The rest of the weekend? Sunday, Mama, Brian and I went to see the musical The Full Monty in Richardson Texas. Average age was at least 65 on up and I'm sure most voted republican. During the scene where the two men fell in love and almost kissed, groans could be heard around the theater and especially from the hags behind us. When the one wife thought her husband was cheating on her during a heartwrenching scene, he said that it didn't have anything to do with a woman, the woman behind me stated, "The alternative would have been a hell of a lot worse." Then the two men held hands during the funeral scene of the one mans mother, another woman behind me said, "Oh no, I hate to see that."
There are times when people still continue to amaze and disgust me. Luckily, the performances were wonderful and we even caught some slight glimpses of naughty bits at the end.
We decided to end the weekend by shopping for our Halloween costumes. We're both going as 60's female GoGo Dancers.
We're not shaving a damn thing.
You don't understand how tired I am.....
This blog has slept in this morning. In an effort to use up vacation time before my last official day at my current position with my company, I am taking the next 3 Fridays off to enjoy myself and not do a damn thing. Yeah I'm sure I'll come here and say Howdy Y'all. I can't have my Zeitzeugettes in suspense as to what's going on in my life.
So I'm off to enjoy the cool weather. Have a cup of coffee. Read my book. Do a little window shopping and possibly watch Oprah later this afternoon.
I never get to do this.
For those stuck in an office today? My humble apologies.
Oh, and blogging completely naked is fun.
There has been so much talk floating around recently regarding a certain blogger who turned out to be "fake". What he was going through, who he was, wasn't true at all. Many people befriended him, chatted with him for hours and felt sorry for him. He fooled a lot of people once his dark secret was out.
The internet is a touchy thing. Anyone can start a blog, create a non-existing life, friends, troubles and fears. Any unsuspecting reader can come along at any time and have no reason not to believe what they write about. Online friendships and even relationships are formed. People start sharing parts about their lives to each other. Feelings for the other start to form. Hearts end up being broken.
What causes a person to totally make up this other persona? Loneliness? Boredom? Craziness? Or maybe, just to be mean. Who knows. This blogger wasn't the first to do this. There have been a few the last couple years that I, myself have gotten to know. Chatted with for hours on end. Shared parts of my life with and thought I was learning so much about them. One in particular "came out" so to speak. Telling everyone his true name and identity. It shocked us, pissed some of us off, but many forgave him and moved on. He seemed truely sorry and genuinely honest. Again. Come to find out, his second persona, the one he labeled as his true self, was a lie also.
There are bloggers out there right now even who aren't 100% who they claim to be. Quasi Fakes. I learned of another one recently. There could be others in our midst that are 100% fakes. Nothing "quasi" about them.
It's a chance we all take when stumbling across a new blog we become enthralled and entranced with. One must learn to keep their guard on for a while.
For all anyone knows, I could be fake to some. I paint a pretty picture of my perfect relationship. My constantly busy lifestyle. "Leave it to Beaver" type family life growing up. A Mother and Father that seem almost too good to be true. Three Siblings to which I have never once had a fight. Tons of wonderful friends who would do anything for each other at the drop of a hat. A wonderful and almost dreamlike new job.
Truth of the matter is, I let you know about my life what I want you to know about. Why sit here and write about the fights I have with my partner? Why tell you about the nights or weekends where we did nothing but sit in front of the television, channel flipping? Why tell you about the "not so perfect" times growing up back home? Do you want to hear about the problems I had with my perfect Mother and Father growing up? Do you want me to tell you about how my Siblings and I hardly ever hug each other because my family doesn't show much physical emotion towards one another? Do you want to hear about the problems many of my friends have faced and are facing today?
No one wants to focus on the negative aspects of ones life. I choose to focus on the fun, positive and possibly inspirational parts instead. Oh yeah and throw a bit of bad into the mix once in a while just for good measure.
But what you see with me, is what you get. I met almost 60 bloggers last year in New York City and others the year before. I've met a handful of bloggers here in Dallas and spent the night drinking or an afternoon having coffee. I think most could tell that I'm pretty much what you see here on this blog. I mean how could I make up some of the shit that happens in my life? The places that I go. The people that I meet. The phobia's and quirks that I have. I've shown you enough pictures, video's and audios of myself, my family and friends.
Again, I just choose what I let you know about me. Don't worry. I pretty much tell you everything from life changing bowel movements, doing nasty things to my partner in bed to opening up my heart about my Dad. There's only a small part I don't tell. I'm an open book.
I guess the whole point of this is to remind people not to get too caught up in the lives of some bloggers. Take what you can from each bloggers site and move on. What you read, might not necessarily be true or only be partially true. Situations in ones life could be enhanced to be funnier or more tragic. If you really want to get to know a blogger on a more personal level, chat with them over the phone. Meet them in person. Get to know the real person, not the one on a computer screen.
We're all in our own very small way, Entertainers. We're attention seekers. We're spotlight whores. People come back over and over on a daily basis to hear what we have to say, get a good laugh, find some inspiration, debate a current topic or even have a good cry.
*spotlight out*
After sitting in the tattoo chair for a while having my tat touched up (still fucking hurts like hell), I met Brian and Mama for some drinks then a nice dinner and converstion. Brian channel flipped for an hour before we both realized there wasn't a damn thing on TV later on that night. How can we have almost 200 channels and not find ONE thing to watch?
Instead, I decided to watch the family movies I had brought with me from back home. Brian had burned me personal copies a few nights ago, so I decided to waste some time.
The movie I popped in started off in 1967 and went through 1976. Various holidays, birthdays and lots of pregnant cousins. Out of the blue, the dvd switched to 1985, half way through. My brother, his wife and children were sitting out on the front lawn being goofy and having fun. Prince and The Thompson Twins played on the radio. This was quite a nice surprise. Out of all the stuff I borrowed, I knew most of the dvd's were either extremely old or very recent.
Ever so often, my brother would pan to the house next door, which is where Mom, Dad and I lived. I immediately got a knot in my stomach. Ever since my Dad passed away back in 1991, I've refused to visit his grave and watch "those damn family movies". I kept telling everyone that I didn't need to spend every holiday, sitting with the family watching movies of Dad. Then eventually watching the movies of him getting sick and becoming the Father that I try not to remember. The very sick and terminal Father. I told my family that I found it morbid to sit around, watching these movies and crying every single Christmas. I usually left and drove around town for an hour while they got it all out of their systems.
I prided myself on remembering only the good times with my Dad. The one that was healthy and robust. Not the Dad that was hooked up to IV's, monitors and oxygen for the last year or so of his life. I try not to remember sitting in hospital after hospital, day after day. I try not to remember being the Son that had to sign the Do Not Resisitate Papers because I was the only child around at the time at the VA Hospital in Iowa. My Mother was in no condition to do it herself.
I pushed back those memories. No reason to dwell on the bad times I always told myself.
While sitting there watching my Brother and Sister in Law play with their 2nd child, I hear my Brother say, "Hey look! There's Grandpa!" I could feel my bottom lip start to quiver and tears well up in my eyes before he even appeared. Brian was behind me with his hands on my shoulders. Yes, I have seen the old 1950-60's movies, catching a glimpse of my Dad on rare occasions. That was different. It's not the Dad I grew up with. To me, he was was just the guy who looked like a very young Dad.
My Dad came bounding into view. Robust, vibrant and healthy. I immediately started to cry. I had forgotten he had that mole on the side of his cheek. I forgot about those old styled glasses he refused to get replaced. He was wearing one of the many patterned polyester shirts, matching pants and wingtips he was never seen without. I then heard him laugh and thought to myself that I had forgotten how much his laugh would lighten up a room. I watched him stand there with his hands in his pockets, shoulders slightly slumped. He always stood that way. I listened to his voice. That voice that I should have remembered, but for the life of me was sounding so foreign for the first few moments.
I had totally forgotten all the small little things about him that I loved so much, yet my stupid pride got in the way of me being reminded of it all the past 14 years. A steady stream of tears kept coming while I just sat there in awe, remembering the man I so dearly loved.
Yet had forgotten.
My mind started to race, wondering exactly what year it was and what stage Dad's health was at. He then picked up his year old grandbaby and tried to bounce her up and down in the air saying "Look at Grandpa, Punkin!" Spelled and spoken just as I spelled it here. Punkin was my Dad's petname for me almost my entire life. Especially the last year he was alive.
He didn't bounce the baby around for very long. He handed her over to my Brother who asked, "You OK? Was that a bit much for you?"
"Yeah, just a little", my Dad replied.
Then it hit me. It was the year after he had his first heartattack. A year after I found him lying in the middle of the driveway. A year after I threw him in my car and drove him as fast as I could to local the hospital. The next 6 years following that movie moment in 1985 would be filled with more heart attacks, cancer and many hospital stays. The next 6 years, I would become more close to my Father then I had almost my entire life.
I wanted to watch the movie over and over.
Never stopping.
I'll be damned if I ever forget another detail about him ever again.
Guess I should all tell you that I accepted the position with the new company. I'll be Director of Product Management for a local Law Firm specializing in Real Estate Law. I'll be in charge of the document designers, gridders/mappers and developers. Also working on special products regarding digital signatures. I should be starting within 3 weeks. Just waiting on that damn offer letter to be completed and emailed to me, hopefully some time today. I'm just impatient.
I'm as happy as a pig in mud.
Brian and I had a romantic little dinner at a local Italian Bistro last night after work. Red checkered table cloths, tacky decor, candles on the table. Only thing missing was a violin player and singer. Nice to do something like that once in a while. Too bad I was so stuffed I could barely eat the homemade Bread Pudding with Carmel Whipped creme/frosting topping.
We were as happy as TWO pigs in mud.
Brian has decided that we should go to Six Flags Fright Fest this coming weekend. Walking around in an amusement park with ghost, ghouls and goblins hiding in every corner, ready to pounce on poor, unsuspecting victims. In other words....ME. I'm sure hilarity will insue.
I will be squealing like a pig in mud on and OFF the rides.
I got what I needed this weekend. A chance to get a way for a few days, relax, eat, drink and not think about things too much. Brian decided we should go to Austin for a few days so we can visit K & C. If you've never been to Austin and are given the chance, definately go. I forget every time how wonderful that city truly is. Austin's city motto is "Keep Austin Weird". This prompted Dallas to start their own city motto, "Keep Dallas Pretentious".
Every little corner or crevasse there's a bar, pub, cafe, restaurant, coffee shop, antique store or a tattoo shop. Art galleries, glass studios, vintage clothing stores or old record and book stores. Country, Jass and Blues bands are playing at each restaurant/bar patio. The city reminds me of your typical college town. Dressing up in Austin means wearing t-shirts and flipflops. No one ever shaves or combs their hippy hair it seems. The smell of patchouli and clove cigarettes permiates the air.
I can't tell you how many tall, skinny, shaved headed vegans I saw. We made the mistake of asking the person who dropped off our water and took our drink order, how big their breakfast taco's were while at Magnolia Cafe. He rudely responded, "I have no idea...*dramatic pause*...I'm a vegan." He's probably one of those guys who rubs amethyst crystals under his armpits instead of using deodorant. Did I mention no one wears a bra in that city either? Our waitress's titties were scary huge and were always at eye level. While waiting to be seated a muscle daddy and his little muscle boy showed up. It was totally obvious that the daddy had gotten a spray on tan but forgot to evenly spread the stuff all over his legs, causing dark orange runs to spider down the back of his calves. Being the discerning queers that we are, we pointed this little flaw out to each other. Has anyone ever noticed how much my voice carries?
Sunday afternoon we headed to Barton Springs park. The Edwards Aquifer feeds the enormous pool and springs that stay a consistant 65 degrees all year long. I could have waded in that brook all afternoon and watched people. Hunky daddies, young couples, tons of children and even a dog with no hind legs was dragging himself around the water having the time of his life. Brian was walking around on the slippery, slimey rocks and eventually fell flat on his bootie. Luckily nothing was hurt too bad.
I've always found a healing quality in water. It calms, relaxes and revitalizes me. Every time I see an ocean I get tears in my eyes. I can sit and listen to the sounds of running river or brook water for hours. A psychic once told me years ago about my need to be around water and it's healing qualities for me.
I'm sure our next trip down to the Land of Weird, we'll be spending more time just getting our feet wet.
I went in not expecting a damn thing. Nothing went as expected the last two times I had been there, so why should this time be any different? I would just see what the woman had to say, make my demands and wait for the answer I was given before.
Thanks for applying and good luck on your pursuits! Great meeting you!
After sitting there for an hour, not hardly being able to get a word in edgewise, I listned to a woman talk passionately about her family. She has been there almost 18 years and still loves it there. Over and over I heard her refer to it has a family. A family that's growing, expanding, moving forwards.
A family that she says needs me to be a part of.
She told me about this small 100+ company in that offered Partner Benefits and that many employees used such a benefit. Her and her partner do. She told me how she knew I was probably worried, scared or nervous. She eased my fears. Telling me I would be molded and trained to do this job. The reason they want me is because they new I could do it and had faith in me.
They met every single one of my demands without a blink of an eye. The salary? Almost doubled.
I told her I would give her an answer Monday. I don't make rash decisions or didn't want to seem desperate or too eager. I needed time to think things over the weekend. She completely understood and didn't even expect an answer that quickly.
Knots in my stmomach started immediately. Felt as if I were going to throw up. I drove off in my car towards home and actually started to cry a little. For the first time in my life, I was being given the opportunity that I was never given before. I wouldn't have to worry about money. I wouldn't have to live paycheck to paycheck, struggling to make ends meet or never again be late on a bill. I would be working in an environment that would accept me and my partner as a couple.
Ever feel like that day could never happen in your life? Happened for me last night. I left the place excited, scared, worried, happy, uneasy. I had to call Mama right away and get her opinion. First thing she said was that she was "I'm going to call "the prayer circle" just in case!" Sometimes it's good to know you have people like that on your side. She told me it was about time and was so proud.
"Now you can get out of that apartment and stop throwing your money away. Buy a home!"
Well, she doesn't waste time does she?
Next few weeks will definately be interesting to say the least.
Yesterday, I found out that the higher ups didn't have a chance to talk to the even higher ups about me and my future with the company. Not sure why the meeting didn't take place. Maybe I'll find out something today. Maybe I won't find out anything for another few months. Who knows.
While sitting at the traffic light last night before heading out to my ex's nieces birthday party (I'm still called Aunt Mark), Brian was checking out the hundreds of thousands of birds that have decended upon midtown. You can't find a building, telephone wire or tree branch that isn't literally covered with them. Watching them take off and swoop around actually is an amazing sight to see. While hanging his head out of the car window to gawk and get a better view, one shits right on his eyebrow AND my car. The eyebrow incident put me in stitches. The car on the other hand, wasn't so funny.
After having some mexican food which wasn't all that great (is that possible in Dallas?), everyone headed out to drink in celebration of the birthday girl. I could barely keep my eyes open and didn't have one desire to have a drink. The time was 8:30pm. We went home. What's happening to me?
I woke up this morning and somehow during the night I slept wrong. I can barely turn my head to the right today without whimpering ever so slightly.
The company I interviewed with a couple months ago that offered me a job with an "OK" salary increase but shitty benefits, called me again yesterday now with a huge salary increase but I'm sure with shitty benefits. I would be the person I was going to work for if I had taken the position previously. Nothing like making me more confused then I already am about my job and what to do. Guess I'll give them a call anyway to hear what they have to say. Reminder to stock up on Maalox and Tums.
I did get to do nasty things to Brian after work yesterday, that I absolutely LOVE to do. Good to know my skills in this particular area haven't changed.
Confirmed that we have the Airstream Camper to stay in when we go camping on Halloween. No tent for us this time.
Found out that I'm 100% current with my student loan payments (shut up!) and I'll have one month without having to pay while they reorganize or some shit.
The huge project I've been working on here after days and days of meetings and "should we or shouldn't we" talks, finally went into production last night.
We possibly might be getting out of town this weekend and head to Austin for some drunken fun.
Funny how that Karma Bitch feels like she has to swoop in and balance things out once in a while.
Sometimes when you think life is just always perfect, nothing ever goes wrong, life is just full of butterflies and kittens..........
......a bird takes a shit on your eyebrow.
:snicker:snort:chuckle:
Remember when you were a little kid and you went to the Circus? If I knew I could join without ever having to come into physical contact with a clown, I would have tried to join. It was a dream as a kid. I wanted to be there in the spotlight, performing amazing acts, followed by thunderous applause.
Every time I see a Broadway Musical, I feel like that little kid again. Last night Brian and I, along with a couple friends, went to see Wicked. Brian and I were big ol' girls, sitting there towards the end with tears in our eyes, holding hands, hearts pounding and a feeling of not wanting this night to end.
I've always studied art growing up. Painting, drawing, printing, glassblowing. I've had my time in the spotlight with a local a play or musical here and there and even took voice and piano lessons up until grad school. I knew I wasn't even close to being remotely talented enough to persue a career on Broadway. I didn't have a voice that would make people stop dead in their tracks in awe. My acting abilities were just ok. My dancing skills were almost non-existant. But the envy I would feel while watching friends rehearse or the feeling I would get while seeing a full fledged production, was so strong.
I know their hours are long. The chances of making it big are slim. The pay probably isn't all that great. The work is exhausting. But to be able to get up on stage, night after night causing people to jump to their feet in standing ovation has to be one of the most amazing feelings a person could ever have.
What a rush.
I know it was for us just sitting there watching and listening.
Only problem now, is I can't get that damn song "Popular" out of my head.....
Some tradtions should never die or should be brought back to life. Ever have a tradtion that you, your friends or your family would do together every single year without fail? My family was big on various traditions. Every single member meeting for lunch somewhere together on Saturdays. Christmas, Thanksgiving and Easter was our immediate plus the extended family gathering for a huge potluck, good enough to put the Baptist women to shame.
Back in the day, before Easter we all went shopping for our new Easter outfits. The women had to have new white shoes, gloves and hats. Boys got a new pastel jacket and bowtie. Our family has always gathered on Christmas Eve to eat either homemade Chili or Oyster Stew and then open presents. Thanksgiving, all the men went hunting and brought back enough wild game to feed 50 people. I of course, had to have Mama buy a store bought turkey.
We never had traditions for lesser holidays like New Years, Labor/Memorial Day or Halloween. Other then New Years being the only time a year my Father would get shitfaced drunk.
Over the years, I've tried starting various traditions with friends. Thanksgiving being the only one that stuck. I've tried the Monthly Dinner Club, where every member puts in twenty dollars into a pool, one person host a dinner party of their choice and received all the money to help put on their little event. I think we lasted 3 months. We've tried getting together for weekly Sunday Brunch here in Dallas. Mimosa's and omlets at 11:30am on Sunday is an extremely popular thing to do around here. I think we lasted 2 weeks. I've attempted having movie, pizza and snack nights. That one never really took off at all. Drinking at a bar seemed to be the only tradition that was consistant.
Why am I thinking about traditions? Maybe I'm a creature of habit. Knowing that on this day, of that month, at this time, we'll all be meeting together to do something special and remember for years to come. Maybe I hate change. Maybe I'm not spontaneous enough. While flipping through old photographs from graduate school a few days ago, I came across our Barn Halloween Parties. A few days before, many of us would gather for a pumpkin carving party. Tons of drunk artist gathering together with very sharp knives, creating spectacular carvings. Maybe this tradition is good to have died off. I'm surprised no one lost a finger or stabbed their fellow glassblower. On Halloween night or weekend, we would all gather in the Glass Barn Studio for a potluck, drink tons of alcohol and each make one dirty item out of glass, usually in the form of a dildo. While being drunk mind you. Again, maybe it's a tradition that wasn't so smart or safe, but I sure miss those times.
Being in a relationship, couples often start their own traditions. This year rather then facing the thousands of people at at the Oaklawn Halloween Street Party, we're heading to Rainbow Ranch (Ray, email me!!) for a weekend of camping, costumes, decorations and parties instead.
Maybe we'll start our own tradition.
What's yours?
When the temperature averages 75 degrees with a light breeze and it's sunny, staying indoors just isn't an option. It was the Texas vs OU Weekend an ongoing rivalry that brings everyone from Texas and Oklahoma into our city for a weekend of drunken debauchery. After listening to the news this morning, it was a weekend of arrest, shootings, stabbings and car wrecks. There wasn't a place in town that wasn't overrun with people dressed in burnt orange or crimson. Crazy people doing this little longhorn symbol with their fingers. Lots of whooping and hollering. People hanging out of their cars, yelling and screaming. Good times.
After breakfast/brunch with a good friend, we headed out to Target to spend way more money then we should on Halloween decorations. Looks like someone threw up lighted pumpkins everywhere.
Brian and I got to experience our first Gay Rugby Game. They were playing some straight team from Midland Texas. That's WEST Texas for those who don't know. Our buddy Scottie McHottie invited us out.
We had no fricken clue as to what the hell was going on so we made up our own rules and play by play of what they were doing. We assumed that when they were all huddled together, that it was time to sniff everyones armpits and butts. I couldn't gasp the whole thing regarding, running with the ball forward, kick it foward, but only can throw it backwards rule. Every time we thought the game had stopped, we'd see someone from the dogpile throw the ball to someone and off they went. Lots of standing around in this game. Maybe they're exchanging receipes. Try as we might, we never really understood the game, so instead we just watched all the hunky men. We did get excited when they started doing what we called "The Underwear Cheer!" Good thing we weren't drinking, otherwise we might have been trying to do our own version on the sidelines. Mental note. Never take Mark and Brian to a Rugby game intoxicated. I was actually asked if I would like to join the Rugby Team. *SHUT UP!* I said unless there's a position for a sissy who runs the opposite direction, screaming with his arms in air, I'd have to pass. Is there a position for rubbing down the players body with oil? Just checking....
I do have to say, the hubby looked hunky that day.
We headed out to Woody's to drink with the players afterwards for what they called 3rd half. I just have one thing to say. Rugby players are fucking crazy. And what's with all these drinking game songs? One had to do with bears, another with Jesus Saves. Brian made the mistake of putting his beer on his head, meaning he was to sing the next part of the song. They told him he had to "shoot the boot", but for the life of me I couldn't find a gun or a boot. Before the Muppet on Crack reared it's ugly head that afternoon, we headed home for drunk sex instead.
Sunday was Indian food with friends, followed by window shopping, eating fucking expensive cuban cakes and pastries, topped with more drinking at Woody's later that afternoon. Friends of ours started a new Bear Beer Bust at a new location. Lots of drinking, meeting new people and laughing until we almost busted a gut.
Overall, almost a perfect weekend. What didn't make it 100% perfect?
While at the Rugby game, I had to pee pretty damn bad. Never, ever under any circumstances use the only portapotty that's been used all day by over 200 Rugby Players. I barely made it out alive.
Driving to work in the dark while it's drizzling outside is a perfect time to daydream. News was on the radio about a Katrina evacuee winning the lottery. Talks continued about someone else who had won the lottery and what they were going to do with the money. For someone who hardly ever plays the lottery, I sure do dream of what I would do with let's just say....200 million dollars. Any amount can cause me to daydream, but it's a nice dollar figure to start out with.
I'm sure all our ideas would be drastically different in how we would react and what we would do. Depends on what's important to a person. I've played this little game in my head more times then I can count. What would I do with 200 million dollars?
1. Pay off every single debt of myself and my immediate family. Clean up anything and everything on our credit reports. This is the first thing I would do immediately. Everything else following is not listed in any order of importance.
2. Buy a beautiful home, furnishings, couple of cars.
3. Open up my own glass studio, complete with art gallery attached on the side.
4. Take one full month and see as much of the world as I possibly can.
5. Donate money to some local AIDS charities and money for AIDS research.
6. Invest the rest.
Other things come to mind like a clothing shopping spree that would be large enough to cause a coronary. Surprise friends with things that they've always wanted to buy. Build my mother a brand new home out in the country. Fly Brian, myself and some blogger friends to Hawaii for a group vacation. Buy one of those vintage Airstream trailers for when we go camping.
As you can see, I've daydreamed about this before.
What would you do if you won?
How quickly a persons mood can change. I was as perky as Paris Hiltons boobies yesterday morning. By the time I left work, I was quiet, meloncholy and slightly depressed. Work was pulling me in ten different directions, each with someone wanting something different and wanting it two days ago. Phone was ringing off the hook. People asking me questions.
Testing for a new project was going way too smoothly. I know you're probably thinking that this should be a good thing. But when I test a system enhancement, complete with new documents, calculations and mapping/gridding, my job is to break that system and make it fail then find a resolution. For the past 5 years in this job, I was able to make it break. Not this time. Even the IT Developer kept IM'ing me asking me if there was anything wrong. Nope. Not a thing. Believe it or not, this stressed me out. I should be finding something wrong. No offense to our developers, but enhancements rarely go in flawless.
I must have been walking around with a furrowed brow all afternoon. Before I left, our SVP called me in to chat. It was a good chat. Something I've been waiting to have for quite some time. Should be a good thing, right?
I've lived my life the past 10 plus years, not getting hopes up. My philosophy is simple. You can't be let down if you don't get your hopes up. Time and time again, you expect something to happen and it doesn't. If you stop expecting it, then you won't be let down when it doesn't happen. Again.
But there's that nagging part of me that wanted to leave with a big old grin on my face. Ready to tell the world what possibly might happen. Then, I calm myself down, put on my serious face and tell my self to knock it off. I've conditioned myself this way regarding my job, my relationships, my friends.
I'm not an optimist. I'm not a pessimist. Call me.....an extremely cautionary pessimistic optimist. I laugh as I typed that. Brian's the dreamer in our relationship. I'm the one who tends to bring that dream back down to a reasonable reality. Brian makes big goals for himself and for the both of us. I make smaller goals I feel I can obtain. Make big goals, don't make them, be let down.
It's a vicious cycle.
Because of our litte chat before leaving work, it opens up the opportunity for something else around here which would just be icing on the cake in my opinion. I found myself driving home afterwards, biting my lips, trying not to get excited. By the time I got home, all excitement had left me already. All I could do was lay there and think how wonderful it would be if it happened, yet at the same time told myself not to expect a damn thing.
Brian layed there with me, holding onto me tight saying, "Please be happy baby. Smile for me. Be happy about this!" I wish I could be more like him.
How do we recondition ourself to not consistantly react a certain way?
I do have to say I felt a tad bit different this morning. Maybe time with Brian and a good nights sleep did something for me. One thing is for sure. I stopped thinking and dweling on it. I didn't have the scowl on my face before I had my cup of coffee here at work. I said good morning to everyone I passed. Hell, I even smiled at one son of a bitch I honestly can't stand.
So many years of learning not to expect something from anyone or anything.
A small part of me is starting to expect something...
On a lighter note: It seems I might have to be getting over my horrible fear of amphibians. Just as long as treatement doesn't involve licking a frogs back.
After careful observation, I fell that I've recently gone from a Level 6 Gay Card Security Access to Level 9 only within the last few months. I'm not sure what prompted this uber gayness. I've never in all my gay years, owned a Judy Garland, Barbra Streisand, Cher or Celine Dion album. Madonna is another story. Mariah Carey? Let's just say I'm warming up to her again after her psycho phase.
Well, that was until recently. I'm not sure what's come over me, but within that last month or so, I've acquired 3 Judy Garland Cd's, Cher's Greatest Hits, a handful of Celine Dion songs........and four, count 'em FOUR Barbra Streisand Albums. *gasps* I know, I know. You're thinking, "We've never seen this side of you! But you're the epitome of butch and manliness! Next you'lll be telling us you cut hair, have a wicked ability to arrange flowers and do fabulous window treatments! Our image of you is not the same!!!" Not that there's anything wrong with having those abilities. I always was lacking in those types of gay genes and I've always been a tad bit envious.
But alas, it's true. I made the mistake of acquiring her latest collaboration with Barry Gibb called Guilty Pleasures. That prompted me to acquire her Duets Album, The Broadway Album and now I'm working on her Greatest Hits Album. I can't get enough of Babs it seems. After listening to nothing but her yesterday, I have this odd nasal tone to my voice today. Kind of a combo between a southern belle and Fran Dresher.
To add insult to injury....I've even bought two Broadway musical cd's. Avenue Q and Wicked. God knows after visiting NYC next year for GB:NYCtrinity, I'm sure to come back wanting to add more to my collection.
But fuck it...I still have never seen The Sound of Music!!
*off to go change the oil in my car or build something out of wood*
As I drive to work, every billboard I pass has some sort of advertisement for a Haunted House. Many claim to be the scariest in the country. Hold up to five or more haunted houses in one old abandoned warehouse. One occupies 10 floors of an old meat packing plant. Others have haunted trails or hayrides. To be perfectly honest, it doesn't really matter what they have.
I'm not going.
First off the price of these damn things range anywhere from 25 bucks on up. Secondly, and this probably doesn't come as any surprise to anyone out there, they scare the living shit out of me. I know. You're thinking to yourself, "But Mark, that's what they're supposed to do!" Fuck that!
Let me tell you a story.
I was in my freshman year of college, dating a much older woman. Ok, I was 19, she was 22, but I digress. Our church youth group had rented a local farmhouse in the country that hasn't been used since the mid 40's. The youth group in their infinite wisdom thought that it would be a good way to raise money for foreign ministries. This was before the time when Halloween was deemed demonic and of the devil by our pastors. The year after the Haunted House fiasco, they limited it strictly to bonfire parties where everyone dressed up as your favorite Bible character. I wanted to dress up as the devil, the whale that swallowed Jonah or even Mary, but it was always frowned upon. No one "got" my humor. I mean, how much different can you make a sheet, sandals and beard look on someone?
My girlfriend and I were the first in line to go through the old barn on the night of the grand opening. I knew the guys who had put this together and they were some sadistic sonzabitches. Now, I love scary movies. The scarier the better. But having someone physically jump out at me from behind closed doors and dark corners is totally another thing. So what's a good Christian boy to do?
I took my girlfriend by the shoulders and pushed her in front of me and hid behind her as we made it through the House.
It wasn't very long while walking down dark hallways, my ankles were grabbed by someone on the floor. I kicked and screamed like a little girl never once letting go of my girlfriend. I'm sure I even shoved her towards my attacker. During my kicking and screaming, I made contact with someones face. Later on I found out I broker his nose. A few paces later, we were jumped by someone from around the corner. Last thing I remember while kicking and screaming, was belting the person upside the head and hearing him scream "Ouch!!".
This little scenario went on for the next 15 minutes. I swear to God I hit almost every single monster, ghoul and seriel killer. At one point towards the end we were taken to a dark maze left alone and had to find our way out on our own. We stood there in total darkness for what seemed like an eternity. By this point I'm grabbing onto my girlfriends shoulders so hard, she's complaining that I'm hurting her. Bruises were found on her shoulders the next day. Once I heard blood curdling screams and the sounds of a chainsaw, I violently pushed my girlfriend off to the side and ran like a motherfucker through the maze, tearing down half of the walls as I went. Once I reached the outside, I was met with a grave yard and fell face down into one of them. Screaming as loud as I can the entire way. Leaving the girlfriend inside. Alone.
I landed right on top of one of my best friends who was supposed to rise from the grave and scare the livin' bejesus out of people as they fled. His groin was a tad bit sore for a week.
I despise Haunted Houses. I would have to be bound and gagged, taken kicking and screaming before you can get me into one.
They're just lucky there were no scary clowns in the Haunted House, otherwise very few people would have made it out of there alive.
That would have been a nightmare.
We had the case of the "weweregonna" this weekend. We were gonna see a movie or two. We were gonna go out to The Eagle. We were gonna go grocery shopping. We were gonna see what ungodly things people do with corndogs. The only thing that we were gonna do that was accomplished was The Dallas AIDS Walk.
Brad, Brian and I got up at the buttasscrack of dawn to have breakfast at the Whataburger before heading down to Lee Park, where the event begins. We ran into our buddy Scott who joined us in The Walk. This years event seemed less enthusiastic and fewer people then normal, but they mentioned that corporate sponsorship alone covered all expenses to put on the event which is the first time this has ever happened, so 100% of all money raised by fundraisers will go towards local charities. That was great news. A few speakers gave their speeches to boost the crowd, DJ's mixed their music, local cheerleaders lead us in aerobics, a TV anchorwoman tried to be funny and our Mayor made a pledge to commit local officals of our city to help find a cure.
It always makes me mushy inside to see old, young, gay, striaght and people of all races come together and unite for a cause. We even had a local Baptist Minister there who is dedicated to help finding a cure and has dedicated apart of his own personal ministries to the cause next to the Drag Queen dressed up as the AIDS Arms Walk Super Hero, complete with 9 inch stilettos and red cape. But what got me teary eyed each time was to see these young kids who raised money and participated in the walk with their schoolmates and parents. At their young impressionable age, they've realized how important it is to continue this fight. They're the ones who hopefully will be setting an example for their parents, classmates and peers to do the same. They're the ones who will be fighting for me in the years to come.
I wanted to give a hug to every single one of them.
During the past 15 years of The Walk, there has never been a cloudy or rainy day and Saturday was no exception. A sea of people walked through the beautifully manicured, landscaped streets of Turtle Creek and UptownAfter the walk, a group of us headed to a local coffee shop in the hood to just sit and talk. We had everyone else around us in stitches by the time we left to snarf down some greasy burgers. Doing something worthy puts you in a good mood.
I'm already thinking about next years goal. Even thinking of giving away some artwork for various levels of donation. Who knows what next year will bring.
All I do know is that we were gonna do a lot of things this weekend, but the only one that mattered was accomplished.
