I received a phone call yesterday around 1pm from the guy who's been helping take care of Mike for the past 60 days. He told me to get over to the house as soon as I could. Last night Mike started going downhill quickly and that I should probably come see him right away.
I immediately got in my car and headed down there. My heart was racing, not knowing what I was prepared to see. Mike was what they considered to be in sort of a comatose state. His eyes were dialated and non responsive. His eyes were half open and his eyes were rolled back into his head. His skin was very cold and clammy to the touch one minute, then hot the next. His mouth was wide open and extremely dry from breathing out of his mouth for hours on end. His breathing was labored and heavy. His blood pressure had been steadily dropping.
I knelt down next to him, held his hand, cried my eyes out and told him over and over how much I loved him. At one point I just got into bed with him, put my arms around him and held him as tight as I could, telling him I was there with him, not to worry, everything was ok and again, that I loved him.
I kept thinking that he's not hearing me or understanding what I was saying. The hospice nurse told me that often the last thing to go is the hearing and that he was hearing everything we were all saying to him. After holding him for a while, she took his blood pressure and some how it had gone back to normal. Often when the person knows that people he loves are around them, things like bloodpressure and heart rate will increase. Giving us a sign they know we're there and that it makes them happy.
After six hours of talking with the nurses and Wayne who's been his helper the last few months, we rolled him from side to side, changing his positions. Rubbed his body, knowing very well that he was probably aching all over. We dripped ice water into his mouth 4 drops at a time. That was the only time we got any response from him. He would swallow.
At one point I couldn't take it anymore and left to get away for a few hours. I just got back from another hour with him. He's pretty much in the same state he was when I left. The night time nurse was there and so was a chaplain. Wayne is so tired he can barely keep his eyes open, but he keeps on doing laundry and cleaning up the apartment inbetween doing what he can for Mike.
All I do is lay there holding him, crying. I feel totally helpless.
They all have my number and are to call me the minute something changes for the better or worse. Unfortunately, this is the same weekend I go home back to Nebraska for a visit and small family reunion. Brian is flying into town on Friday to meet everyone. Part of me feels like I'm abandoning him. The other part of me knows there's nothing more I can do. He's surrounded by people who are taking good care of him. Many people have stopped by to see him. He and I had our time together.
I've said my goodbyes.
Oh, what a night.....
I was all ready to settle down with the puppy by my side, remote in one hand and try to enjoy some Bravo TV. I'm snuggling with all my couch pillows, fan blowing ever so slightly across my naked body. On the ottoman, I have a cool refreshing bottle of spring water. The night is going to be perfect. No interruptions. Good shows on TV. Relaxation. Early night to bed.
Well, I'm not sure who decided to come take a dooky all over my perfect night at home, but they're going to have their balls cut off and shoved in their mouth.
Oh, that would be my PUPPY. Fortunatly for him, his balls haven't dropped yet.
He's been doing so well. He never goes poopoo or tinkle in his kennel. He's really good with a leash. He's hardly been whining or barking when being put up. He's been careful not to do much chewing on anything but his own toys.
Until last night.
He decided to start off the evening with a couple fart bombs that was enough to clear out a small house. I swear to God I've never smelled anything to vile and rank in my whole life. It was as if something crawled up inside his pooper and died. So I'm thinking, "Gosh, he must have to shit". So I take him out and he does his thing like a good boy.
Five minutes later he walks into the dining room and starts to pee. ARGH!!! I take him out to pee, then put him in time out in the kennel. I let him out of the kennel later, we go out to pee again and I leave him out to play as reward. Just like all the books say. Five minutes later, he pees again in the house. FUUUCKK!! I rush him outside, he pees and is put in timeout again in the kennel. He's in there longer this time since I've missed half of Kathy Griffin's, The D-List show.
I let him out and we play some more. I take him out for a long walk to play and do his business. We even meet a few other dogs. Both of which he decided to bark and growl at like he's some big tough Doberman or something.
It wasn't again five fucking minutes back in the house and he pees. Again, back to timeout.
Later on that night when I finally let him out of jail, I find him chewing in our area rug with his 3 chewtoys only an inch from his face. HOLY FUCKING SHIIIIIITTT! He might as well have chewed on my favorite pair of Kenneth Cole leather flipflops. That was the final straw. I took him out to pee and put him in his kennel for the night around 10:30. By this time, I'm tired and ready for bed. I take a half a sleeping pill to insure a good nights sleep.
Not to happen. Around 2am he starts barking to be let out. I'm so out of it still, but I manage to go downstairs, let him out, cussing at him under my breathe, he poops and pees and I put him back to bed. Barely able to keep my eyes open, I start my walk upstairs. Our wooden stairs. Our very slick wooden stairs.
Yeah, you guessed it. I missed one of the steps half way up and bashed the fuck out of my knee, sliding all the way down to the bottom. All of this while puppy is off in the corner barking as if some stranger was in the house ready to rape me and rob me of all my posessions.
Today I'm swollen and walking witih a huge limp.
I'm sending our puppy off to doggie camp and have him returned when he's one year old.
Last night Brad and I went to see 'A Night with Kathy Griffin'. I had heard she was going to be in town at the last moment, so I rushed to buy tickets online and got some pretty cheap seats. Only twenty bucks each. The air was getting quite thin by the time we got to the top of the Myerson Symphony Hall where she performed, but the view from anywhere in this theater is a good seat and the accoustics are amazing.
My stomach is still sore from laughing so damn hard and my throat is scratchy and raw. I don't think I've ever had someone make me laugh that much in my entire life. I love a person who says it like it is, loves to tell gossip, cusses like a sailor and boy does she loves her gays. I swear to God every single gay man in Dallas was there last night. Best night of comedy ever. She ripped on everyone from Clay Aitken, Ryan Seacrest, Britney Spears, Oprah to The President. No one was safe.
I like a person who can make fun of themselves, doesn't take themselves too seriously and voices their opinion. I like of myself as a "tell it like it is" type of person. I don't hold things back. Ask Brian. It's one of the things he had to get accustomed to in our relationship. You never knew what was going to come out of my mouth and when. Who knows. Maybe a few of my readers out there have noticed the same thing on my blog.
Just a thought.
Ever have a list of people you would like to sit down and spend a few hours talking with over dinner? I could sit here and ramble off some sort of list that included influential, motivational, inspirational people. I could ramble off another list that included the gay staples such as Madonna, Cher, Liz and Babs.
No, I'd rather sit and talk dirt with a trash talkin' D-Lister any day. She would be number one on my list. Who's on yours?
Oh, don't tell me you didn't see this sort of ZeitCast coming sooner or later.
It was just a matter of time.
Honestly, it really doesn't take much to entertain us. That goes for Max as well.
Normally my little Poo Bear would be home last night, but his parents called to say there were vacationing about 4-5 hours away from Denver with friends, so his Mama asked him to come see her. When Mama says come see me, Brian runs to see her. We're both Mama's boys.
He didn't realize when he said yes that it was a little over 5 hours to get to this small, old mining town in the mountains of Colorado. He drove 5 hours to spend last night and today with them. He drives back to Denver Saturday morning to catch a flight to come back to see me for a day and a half before flying back to Denver on Monday morning for work.
See? I have him trained and I didn't have to use a crate or piddle pads. Just a few swats on the ass.
So instead of sitting around the house, I went over to Mikes to see how he was feeling and take his brother out. He didn't want to eat anything, but wanted a few beers instead. Mike has been doped up with enough Methadone to seriously take down an elephant. The nurse mentioned that she has never seen anyone take even HALF of what she's given him. His years of substance abuse have given him an astronomically high tolerance for pain medication.
So Tommy and I hit one of the local gay bars. It wasn't five seconds before this hunky, 24 year old is eyeing some cute blonde chick in the corner. Then he starts hitting on another dark haired Italian looking girl. He kept talking about getting *insert female area that starts with a P* here and *insert female area that starts with a P* there. Finally I told him that we got it. He's straight, he love to get his hands on a lot of *insert female area that starts with a P*, he loves sports, guns, beer drinkin' and that he's the epitome of the average straight man. Enough throwing around of the testosterone.
But before you know it, he can't take his eyes off all the flatscreens showing hot, muscled, naked boys rubbing oil all over their bodies. I'm sure he wasn't thinking about *insert female area that starts with a P* at this point. After the standard amount beer to make a lot of straight men want their dick sucked (a six pack), he's getting all flirtatious. I couldn't go pee without him saying, "Gosh! I have to pee too. We must be on the same pee schedule!".
*snort, snicker, giggle*
*rolls eyes*
Finally, I just leaned over and checked the boy out during one of his many attempts following me into the bathroom. He kept telling all of us that it took two hands to hold his dick and the head would still stick out the end. After seeing what he's got (he got it hard in the bathroom), he must be referring to the hands of a much smaller person. I'm not saying it wasn't a very nice size, but he was leading us all to believe it was about 10 inches long. He's a very nice 6.5 or 7 at the most.
This just confirms what I've noticed for the past 15 or so years. I've slept with a lot of striaght men. I've had my share of married men as well. I've even had a few straight male friends discuss dick size with me. They all think that the average size of a man's dick is much bigger then the norm is and they all think their dick is much bigger then what it actually is.
I'm curious. Are straight men not allowed to handle or carry rulers?
(For something really interesting and fun, click here and type in your birthday)
I have a feeling my blog is going to grow more and more boring over time. Only Monday through Thursday of course. When Brian's here we're doing more, going places, meeting people, acting crazy. My life while he's away is filled with cleaning house, doing laundry, masturbating and dealing with poop and pee all the time.
How in the hell did I become a stay at home Mom who masturbates all the time? OH my GOD! When did I become Tuna Girl!?
Luckily the crate training for Max is going well. He doesn't go potty in the crate, hasn't gone in the house and is overall getting better. He still hates the crate and whines when I put him in it for a few minutes. Although last night I have to say he didn't wake me up until 4am which is a record.
Lets see, what else? Oh, I did two loads of laundry and cleaned up a little in the livingroom and kitchen. Aren't you glad you stopped by to find all this out?
I called Mike last night to see how he was feeling. It seems like time is getting shorter. He didn't answer the phone, but called right back. When I answered, it was his little brother Tommy. I had totally forgot that he was going to try and come down for a short visit.
Tommy is a messed up 25 year old. I honestly don't see how anyone in that family could actually come out of it not fucked up in some manner. Verbally, physically and mentally abusive Father. Uncles who abused the young boys growing up. Mother who died early. Step Mother who sold her body for crack. Mikes older Brother ended up sort of OK after a number of years and seems to be doing well. Mikes little Sister has a severe learning disability, but recently has married and had a baby.
Tommy? Well, he's married and has two kids but that doesn't stop him from messing around with guys when he gets the chance. Never stopped him from convincing older men to buy him things for letting them blow him. He can't keep a job. Never finished highschool. Can't really support his family. He was hooked on crystal for a few years, but seems to have kicked that habit from what I'm told.
I swear I came from Leave it to Beaver's family. I have a hard time fathoming a family so messed up or coming from a family like that. No wonder Mike and Tommy ended up like they are honestly. Often we're a product of our upbringing. Many change, but others fall into the same path as their folks.
Now Tommy is here to see his Brother. Possibly for the last time. I plan on taking him out, having some dinner with him and talking about a few things.
I'm sure he's getting no support from his family back home.
About a week ago, I called Mike my Ex, asking how he was feeling and if I could bring him something before driving all the way out to the Hospice. Often he sends me on a run to pick something up for him after I arrive, so I try to get it ahead of time if I can.
He told me that he's no longer at the old Hospice. Over the weekend, he went home for a visit and decided not to go back. A retired friend of his has been spending the majority of his time with Mike since he has nothing to do. He feels now as if he has a purpose. Before he was sitting in his apartment, doing absolutely nothing. I can't tell you how much I appreciate all he's been doing. It's made things so much easier. Mike had been talking to another Hospice that does in home care. I hadn't realized that everything had already been finalized. Mike often forgets to tell me things.
The old Hospice was nothing more then a place for people to lay around, waiting to die. They dispensed medication, cooked them a few meals and did absolutely nothing else. No counseling. No companionship. No interaction. No compassion. Mike had been yelled at, door kicked in and even hit upside the head from one of the employees. Luckily, that son of a bitch is no longer working there. Another employee tried to refuse him to use one of the bathrooms when the other two were full because she considered that to be her personal bathroom.
At first when I was being told these stories, I fully didn't believe all that I was being told. Mike has been known to rub people the wrong way, piss them off and stir up trouble and make up stuff just to get someone in trouble he doesn't like. It doesn't give any of them the right to treat him poorly in a verbal or physical manner. After speaking with his retired friend, I knew all of it was true. He witnessed all the events. For some reason, every person who worked there was a model employee when around me.
This new hospice brought in a medical bed, wheel chair and all the necessities Mike would need. They call the doctor on a daily basis. The old place called once a week. There is at least one nurse there at all times, unless short handed. Mikes friend stays there when no one else can. They try different kinds of medication to treat his pain. The old place gave him morphine and told him there wasn't any other alternative.
The biggest difference is a older nurse who I heard is some sort of minister. She tells Mike how much she loves him and appreciates him every day before she leaves. She even says a quick prayer with him before walking out the door. She works double shifts when one of the other nurses can't make it in. She gives me a full update when I come to see Mike.
She is what hospice should be about. Love and compassion. I overheard the other nurse mention that this woman has grown quite attached to Mike over the past week. She can see how much he's gone downhill even more lately. She's worried and so am I.
Mike has been very lethargic and hard to understand. But the minute I walked in last night with Max in my arms, his eyes opened up real big and he got the biggest smile on his face that I've seen in months. Max played on his bed, growling in a playful way and smothering him with puppy kisses. Mike was in heaven. He begged me to let him watch Max whenever we went out of town. Of course I told him I would think about it, but until then I'll bring him over as much as I can when I come to visit.
I almost lost it when he asked if I could go back and find him a puppy to take care of as well. Despite not being able to get out of bed anymore, he still wants something to take care of.
Somethings never change.
Click here to view the pics from Saturday's Bear Pool Party. Sorry folks, no penis shots this year. By the time the pee pee's came out to play, the rain was pouring and the house was too crowded.
And for those who wanted to see a few more puppy pictures (not that we've taken that many *rolls eyes*) here's a few more. Plus, since Brian's away he doesn't get to see him for half the week.
I know! I haven't uploaded the pictures from the party yet. Last night a friend needed to talk, then after that I had to run home and take care of Max. It seems our first two days of bliss are gone and not reality sets in.
Oh, he's still the cutest puppy on the entire planet. He still has wonderful puppy breath. He's playful and likes to bark a little and growl at me when he's playing. He does this cute little thing when he wants to cuddle. He hides his head in my armpit or underneath my knee. He misses Brian very much and tells me so constantly.
The first day he didn't pee or poop in the house at all. Even most of the next day. He slept most of the night and only woke up once. Monday night was a totally different story. He realized that he didn't have to wait to go outside to pee, that he could just do it in the house. Frequently. And hell, why not go ahead and take a shit while we're at it. He was also more needy last night then the previous day. Lots of whimpering. It only stopped when I was petting or holding him. He woke me up around 3am acting like he was being murdered. He peed again in the kitchen. He woke me up again at 6am. Peed one more time.
I took him out to do his business this morning, then brought him back in with me and we laid on the couch for another hour so I could get some more sleep. He actually laid there peacefully and farted. Great. Three gassy men in one household.
I haven't had a puppy in a very long time. Maybe I've forgotten how they act and what to do. Maybe I do need a book called Puppies for Dummies. I do know one thing. I'm getting a kennel and he's going to be crate trained. Everyone kept telling me to do that and I wanted to try not to. Seems the best way.
The two phrases I've said until I'm blue in the face are "NO!" and "STOP THAT!"
(I promise pics will be posted tonight when I get home)
I'm so tired I can barely keep my eyes open.
Our friend Matt from Houston showed up late Friday afternoon. After hanging out a while, then grabbing some dinner, we all headed out for a few beers. Once we hit the Round Up, we pretty much stayed there until midnight or so. Rumor has it that he didn't stay with us both nights, but spent both nights with another friend of ours.
Luckily, none of us were hung over the next day. Our friends Kelly and Craig from Austin showed up Saturday afternoon. Everyone was pretty pumped about the Bear Pool Party. The only thing we were worried about was the weather. Forecast indicated 70% chance of severe thunderstorms. Once another friend Jim, along with Scotty and Dan showed up, we packed our coolers full of beer and headed over to Oak Cliff. We were the first group there which isn't anything unusual. Within a half an hour though, the back yard was getting pretty full.
After an hour or so, people were jumping in the pool and the alcohol was flowing. It didn't take long for a few in the crowd to throw caution to the wind and get naked. Then the storm hit. Torrential down pour with high winds. We even heard a tornado was spotted somewhere and even hail. Approximately 150 people tried cramming themselves under the patio and throughout the averaged sized 2 bedroom home. Hot, sweaty, wet men standing asshole to elbow. You never could fully know who was grabbing your ass or crotch. Lots of nakedness, making out in the corners, passed out guys on the couch. Our kind of party.
Once the rain slowed down, some of our group said screw it and jumped in the pool anyway. Nothing better then naked swimming in the rain. We eventually migrated to the jacuzzi. You would be surprised how many guys you can fit in one that seats only 4 people. Enough for the water to start overflowing and to shortcircuit the damn thing. I'm sure the hosts of the party were
We were beat by 2am and headed h ome to crash. Despite the horrible weather, we had a good time although it wasn't the same. We took as many pictures as we could in the beginning before all hell broke loose. The rest of the night made it difficult to take any more. Sorry, but I haven't uploaded them yet to my photo album due to the arrival of our new baby yesterday (see yesterdays post). He kept us pretty busy all afternoon and night.
We think we've decided on the name Maximillion. Max for short. Maximillion for when he's been bad. I'm known as Papa and Brian is now Daddy. Max just seemed to fit him after a while.
For a while there we thought Max was a little off. He'd be playing with one of us on the floor, stop and walk only two feet away, whimpering with his back to us. I'm like, "Hey dumbass, we're right here." He'd turn around and get all excited like he hasn't seen us for days. This when on every five minutes or so. He didn't pee or poop in the house all day or all night last night. He did his business immediately when we took him out. Then his first boo boo happened this morning. I felt bad. I only left him alone for 5 minutes. It's bound to happen.
He almost slept through the entire night. We heard him wake up around 2am and bark/whine a few times, then he quieted back down. Didn't hear anything more until this morning around 6am. He was feisty. We played the, "Lets whine because I don't know where Papa is even though he's two feet away from me" game for a while before having to head off to work.
I've decided puppy breath smells like Cheerios.
I felt it fitting to write a post today. Brian and I did something quite spontaneous today. A friend of ours who's in town visiting, went to church this morning. He called me before he walked into the sanctuary and said I needed to some to the AIDS Bell Tower, because there was a lady getting rid of puppies.
All it took is one look and we were hooked. We battled wondering if it was the right decision or not, but once we both made the decision, handed her the required $40 (which was the exact amount of money I had in my wallet) adoption fee, we sat in our car with this little cutie and both cried like we just gave birth to our first baby boy.
He's only been in our home for ten minutes, but his tail was wagging and I think he's already fallen asleep.
Now comes the part of giving him a name. He's part Shar Pei and whatever was roaming the neighborhood that day according to the girl.
Now if we could both stop being so damned sappy and being all teary eyed.
How perfect that this was on Fathers Day.
Last night after work, I participated in something called Focus Point. They search for people to sit in these focus groups to get your opinion on various things or products. They in no way try to sell you anything. Just a forum for marketers to get a chance to hear what you like, don't like or would change before they roll out a certain product or idea. I should mention that behind the glass walls surrounding us in the room, were the clients.
You might be asking why would I sit through two hours of listening to someone go on and on about something and give my opinion for two hours. I got paid $150 to do this. Brian gets called for these things all the time. I signed up two years ago an never have been called. Never could figure out why. He got called again last week and said he couldn't do it, then handed the phone to me to see if I fit their qualifications. Finally, I did. I hope they call me back for others.
Twelve of us sat there listening to this person talk and ask what our view were regarding a possible Nieman Marcus American Express Card. You never know what someone is going to say in situations like this. Everyone seemed very intelligent except for one man who looked like he hadn't bathed in a couple weeks and reminded me of Einstein with his wild hair. The things that came out of his mouth made everyone cringe. By the end of the session we were so relieved it was over so we wouldn't have to hear another batshit crazy idea come out of his mouth.
We were fine until he stoof up at the end and accused Nieman Marcus of being racist because not one person of color as he put it, was in the focus group. We're just one of 100's of groups like this for the client. Ours just happened to be all white. The other one being conducted at the same time had a more wide variety of people.
He left saying he would never shop at Niemans again. I'm sure they hurt by this tragic news.
Tomorrow is the big Bear Pool party. Our friend Matt is coming up from Houston and we've also invited a handful of friends to go with us. Should be a handsy, groping, pee pee showing time I'm sure.
Just sucks that my allergies are kicking my ass to the curb.
After having day from hell yesterday, I decided to drown my sorrows in a few martini's. Ever since Brian is gone for work, I have found myself sitting at home watching movies or sitting at the computer, wasting away the hours. I think I've been a tad bit depressed about it. Trying to get used to this all so familiar schedule of ours. When you have someone in your bed every evening and all the sudden half of the week they're not there, it takes getting used to.
I didn't have a desire to be alone last night, so I found comfort in friends. Black Martini's helped. Three of them to be exact. Enough to make me a little tipsy and cause me to lay down around 8:30 when I got home and not wake up until 7am this morning. What the fuck is wrong with me?
I've become a lightweight and a cheap date. My mouth felt like a cat took a poopoo in it this morning and my stomach still hasn't stopped doing backflips. Someone decided to pop buttered popcorn this morning at 8am and I almost lost it.
Although I might be finding it hard to sit at home alone doing nothing, I don't think hanging out in a bar for happy hour on a frequent basis is on my agenda either. Luckily today is payday so I'm going to be re-stocking up on some more painting supplies since I finished the last painting a few weeks ago. No I won't show anyone what it looks like. I'm my own worst critic and honestly not crazy about the piece. Although a good friend of ours said he liked it, but it made him feel angry inside. Brian thought it was pretty and wants to hang it in our hallway.
I think he's a little biased. I could do a finger painting and he would love it.
Tony asks:
What has been the most chanllenging thing to face as a gay man walking in the shoes of "HIV?"
In the beginning, it was just learning to continue to love and care for myself and not look at myself as something dirty and diseased. The other thing would be having to deal with someone's ignorance or lack of knowledge. I had to learn that not eveyone is educated in the matters of HIV and it's my(our) responsibility to educate them. I was quick to judge people.
What has been the rewarding thing, if there can be such a thing in your eyes?
I'm a completely different person then I was before. Stronger, more confident (bullheaded) and more compassionate.
Mike asks:
What is one of the happiest moments you've had in your life so far?
A moment that you dust off every now and then and look at in your mind's eye. A moment that makes you smile, and fills your chest so full with warmth that at the right moments makes your eyes water.
I've had many happy moments in my life, but not to sound too cheesy or anything, I would have to say the moment that I realized that I was truly and madly in love and wouldn't be spending the rest of my life alone. Brian was traveling with work the first few months we were together. We both were struggling to deal with being seperated for weeks at a time. He called me up, told me to pop in the soundtrack to Camp and to play the song "I believe in us". He sat there on the other end of the line while I listened to the song and cried my eyes out. I knew right then and there that I would be with this man for the rest of my life. I can't hear that song or think of that situation without getting tears in my eyes. Thanks for making me cry at work. If you want to read the lyrics, please click here.
Patrick asks:
We all have an unwritten book of our lives which we are living out each day. What was the title and subject of your last chapter?
Y'all are making this tough. I would have to say the title would be "How to break up a happy home in one easy step" The subject would be, "Remodeling a Condo with your partner".
Scott asks:
Girth or length?
Paper or plastic?
Donny or Marie?
Girth is always better.
Paper.
You really can't have one without the other, but if I had to choose I'd say Donny. He's dreamy.
Tami asks:
3 favorite TV shows
Honestly don't have too many since I don't watch a lot of TV.
Totally addicted to Project Runway.
Can't get enough of The Mind of Mencia.
Wish Friends and Will and Grace were still on.
Chris asks:
What would you be doing on your grandest adventure?
If you're not already on your adventure (or finished), what is holding you back from dropping everything and going?
I have a dream to tour Europe. Take a month off and see both the touristy parts and the places where only the locals know about. What is holding me back? Would have to say money at the moment. I think it's still a dream that I will achieve. It's nothing too far fetched our out of reach.
David asks:
Based on the assumption that God indeed exists, what would you say to him/her? If that's too open ended, what three questions would you ask?
I'm not sure what I would actually say, but more of what I would ask. I'm sure we all would have so many things that we would want answers too. Why we so many of us suffer from diseases? Why do bad things happen to good people? Why was my Father taken away so early? Why is George W. Bush our President? Lots of Why's.
Homer asks:
If you could change one thing about your appearance, what would it be?
Just one? Number one thing would be my nose. I would like to have a cuter, smaller nose. Second would be my weight. I want to be heavier. Hate being slender.
Brian asks:
Whom do you admire most? In what way does that person inspire you?
My Mother. She grew up during the depression. Started working at such a young age in the cotton fields. Married my Father at the age of 16. Watched him go off to war. Raised 4 children. Suffered a nervous breakdown once in her life. Lost a husband. Went through numerous surgies. Yet, she still keeps on going, loves life and continues to not only inspire me, but I think others as well.
Lisa asks:
If you could go back in time and change one thing you did or didn't do, what would it be?
I think every HIV positive person would go back and change that fateful day. Although I wonder if it just wouldn't have happened another day down the road. I beleive everything happens for a reason. Good and bad.
One thing that I didn't do which if I had the chance to do over again, would have gone into teaching Art. Teach at the highschool level for a few years and eventually move up to the college level.
Scotty asks:
I would like to know what it was that you found most attractive in your partner...what makes your relationship so enduring?
Most attractive? Physically I would have to say his eyes and smile. Also, his happy go lucky spirit, generosity, ability to love unconditionally. Why is our relatioinship enduring? Our ability to communicate with each other.
Thanks for all the questions. It gave me something to write during a slow week at home and a horrible week at work. Thanks for taking my mind off things.
Hmmmm. My mind is blank. Nothing to write. No stories to share. No pictures to post.
Three years ago when I first started blogging, I told readers to ask me anything they wanted, from something about my personal life to my views on different topics.
Go ahead. Ask me anything.
I'll answer.
I'll publish them tomorrow.
Your thoughts, well wishes and prayers for Brian's injury yesterday were so greatly appreciated. We had a close call last night when the wound was somehow re-opened. It was touch and go there for a while.
I have a feeling I should stock up on bandaids for Brian.
Xanax for me.
Honestly not much to report from this weekend. For the most part, I got my relaxing weekend as promised. Went to see the movie Cars on Friday. It's a must see. Larry the Cable Guy plays an old beat up tow truck and he steals the movie. I'm not sure exactly why, but I find Larry the Cable Guy a cutiepatootie. Just for those times when I'm feeling the need for a short, stocky, hairy, cubbish goober.
Wait a minute.....
Nevermind.
The rest of our jawdropping, excitement filled weekend was filled with lounging around the house and watching movies. Except yesterday. We hung out with our friends softball team at our pool, along with Brian's best friend who lives in Austin. He's up here for an interview in Dallas. Ever since Brian heard he's been working on moving up here, he's been giddy as hell.
After that, we headed to the The Door for a few more beers. Once we got there, it seemed as if every one of our friends were there. Even Brian's Ex who purposely stayed the hell away from the both of us.
So, tell me about your weekend festivities.
I normally don't write posts on the weekend, but after the incident from yesterday, I felt it important to my readers to let them know what happened.
When I came home yesterday from work, Brian had injured himself. From the way he was carrying on and describing what had happened, I was sure it was going to be something quite gruesome. I was picturing him slipping and falling and cutting his head open. I was picturing him falling down the stairs and breaking his arm or leg. He was describing his wound to me, telling me how bad it was and how it happened.
It seems while after getting naked, he decided to lay down on the couch to to relax and watch some TV. Be aware that some of the details of this story can be a bit hard to handle. When he started to lay down on the couch, he placed his hand on the couch first and (this is the bad part).......must have scraped his knuckle on the zipper of one of the pillows.
Yes folks, I was getting ready to take him to the emergency room and have half of his body sewn up after seeing how he was acting. Then he gingerly takes one hand and holds up his injured hand to show me the catastrophic damage.
For those with a strong stomach, click here to see the horrible wound.
Once I got back from NYC, I knew something wasn't quite right. Ever get that twinge in your body, where you just know you're coming down with something? It's like the precursor to getting sick. Not feeling 100%. A tad bit run down. Small amount of achyness. An overall feeling of just not being quite right.
Perfect timing, since Brian got home for the weekend last night.
I've been this way since Monday, telling myself I'm just going to shake it off. I was just tired from the past couple weekend of being on the go. Yesterday, the feeling was getting worse so I decided to make it all better by buying a piece of glass for our collection at the local glass gallery and end my day with a massage before the arrival of the hubby. By the time dinner rolled around, I was basically feeling like shit. I have something. Don't know exactly what it is, but it sucks. Stuffy head, runny nose, sore throat, tight cough. I don't know if it's allergies, Bird Flu, a hangnail or something else.
When I was growing up, my mama would go to the store and buy me all sorts of drawing pads, pencils, toys, magazines, games and whatever sort of food I was craving. My, how times have changed. Not that Brian wouldn't drop what he's doing and run to the store at the drop of a hat. Not that he wouldn't hold me, bring me medicine and make googoo noises in my ear.
I'm still pretty damn needy when I'm sick. Yet, I want to be left the hell alone most of the time now that I'm an adult. So here I am feeling needy, yet at the same time wanting to be left alone.
I'm just one big ol', sickly bag of contradiction.
My days are all screwed up. I woke up yesterday morning, bright eyed and bushy tailed, ready for the day. I get to work and the first thing I do is send my pookieookiebear an ittybitty text message saying that I lovydovywuvs him and can't wait for him to fly in that night.
Yes, we still do silly little things that make most people vomit like that for each other. If the above didn't make you to throw up in your mouth a little bit or cause a toothache, I don't know what would.
Sometimes I make myself sick to my stomach.
Where was I? Oh yeah, I sent the message and was all giddy at the prospects of having him home. A few moments later I received a phone call. Awwww! My little pooterbunny wants to say it in person! How cute. No he called to remind me that it was Wednesday and that he comes home late Thursday night. That threw my whole day off. I wasn't in the whole pookie, pooter, boo, honey, sweetie, darlin' mood after that.
"Ok bitch, see ya when you get home".
But I loves my bitchywitchypoopoobear.
I still don't know if I'm caught up on sleep and rest. My poor body seems to take a few days to recover from any sort of travel. Especially vacations that involved an ungodly amount of walking and alcohol consumption. I'm sure by the time GB:NYC10 rolls around, I'll have to be wheeled around in a wheelchair.
Life is quiet around the house. Brian is in Denver for work and returns late tonight. I need a dog to keep me company.
I was speaking with Michael who's in hospice. It seems that he's fed up with the hospice place that he's at. I do have to say that lately it seems that all they care about is dispensing medication and not tending to the needs of the dying individual. They don't find anything for them to do. They don't spend time with them. No sort of comforting. I know Michael isn't an angel and probably has made a few enemies around the place, but still. It hasn't helped that out of the 5 guys who have been around there pretty much since the beginning when Michael showed up, three of them have passed away the past two weeks. It's forcing him to look at his own mortality and ponder how much time is left for him.
He found another hospice unit through the VA. He'll be able to go back into his apartment and be visited by a nurse as many times a week as he tells them to. They're on 24 hour call for emergencies, and he even has a retired friend who lives in the area and will stay at his apartment with him to help out. According to this guy, he doesn't have anything to do all day or night, so it would help him to have something to do. Michael will only be about 6 blocks away from me now, so I'll be able to hop over to his place whenever is needed. I think Michael would rather be in his own place when the time comes.
Hump day is here and I already can't wait for the weekend. Brian promised me a weekend of doing absolutely nothing and I'm going to hold him to it. It won't be long before we have a friend coming into town for the pool party in two weeks. Two weeks later Brian and I go home to Nebraska to see family. Few weeks after that we're planning on heading out to San Francisco for a weekend. Couple weeks later, Kansas City possibly. Portland in September.
I feel like we're on Tour.
Gosh. Where in the hell do I start?
Our trip started off on the wrong foot. Once we boarded, they forgot to stock the plane with food and drink. This took them 45 minutes. We started taxing and it seemed to go on and on. Before you know it we see an access road next to us. The flight crew comes on and states that NYC is getting hit with a storm and we're grounded for an hour or more. We finally arrive in NYC around 1:15am and made it to our host David's apartment around 2:30am.
Let me first say a big thank you to our host David for putting up with us for 3 days. Please, he had to deal with naked Brian walking about his apartment.
We headed down to Times Square on Friday. It only took us a few minutes before Brian saw the Toy's R Us store and he just took off. He forced me to ride the indoor ferris wheel that has cars on it like My Pretty Pony, Cabbage Patch Kids and Barbie. He's such a kid and I love it.
Five minutes later, we spotted Naked Cowboy. I'm sure sure if he was impressed that we were from Texas or not, but he sure did give Brian a thrill. I didn't realize how hot he was.
We were leaving the store when I saw a hunky, hairy, cutiepatootie and noticed it was Michael. I hollered at him, introduced ourselves and even took a picture. I'm sure we took him by surprise. He seemed a little leary at first of the two stalkers who accosted him on the street. Quite the sweetie and funny sense of humor.
Once our tummies started to grumble, we called Scott to meet us down there. We headed over to a place called Vinyl for lunch. I had the best pear nectar martini called The Pearis Hilton. Brian was so enamoured over the bathrooms named Elvis, Dolly and Cher, he had to run back to pee and took the camera with him. He documented a lot of things this weekend.
We gave Karen a call and rescued her from Patricks Hotter then Hades apartment. He was working so we took the Tunagirl out with us and walked around Central Park.
Here's Scott and I doing our impressions of the Diva herself at the Diana Ross Playground. We found some castle thingy which had a great view of the park and some famous fountain which the name escapes me. There's supposed to be healing powers in the fountain, so it wasn't long before I was being baptized. Last I heard, I'm still poz. Damn.
We headed down to see what many call "Heaven on Earth". The new Apple Store. On our way there, a torrential downpour started. Let me just say that the big glass box leaks and having glass steps probably wasn't the smartest thing during a rainstorm. We eventually headed to see Patrick and Rob at work. It was getting close to the time we needed to get ready for the big party, so we tried to head back to 125th street. It took us almost two and a half hours due to the fact that the rainstorm flooded the subways. I wasn't in a good mood by the time we got back. We hurried our asses up and made it to the GB:NYC3 hook up at Barrage only one hour late. Still, I fucking hate being late anywhere. Even though the crowd was smaller then the previous year due to the rain, 45 bloggers showed up. The alcohol flowed, some got a bit handsy, some were wasted. Basically a perfect night. The amount of people made it perfect to hang out with almost everyone. I didn't feel like I had to be Julie the Cruise Director from Love Boat.
Saturday we met Glenn, his partner Derrick, David and Jim at TOAST for brunch. I loved it except for they have no clue how to make potatos like we do in the south. Why in the world would anyone serve huge chunks of friend potatos, with slimey onions as a side when you order French Toast? Afterwards they walked us to the subway entrance so we could head out to Marc and Jess's BBQ in Long Island. Never believe anyone when they say, "It's only a few blocks up the street". They really mean it's a loooooonnngg walk down the road!
Marc and Jess as always, put together a wonderful spread. About 15 of us were there, enjoying spending some more quiet time together, rather then the bars.
Saturday night, Patrick, Rick, Karen, David and us met at XL for a cocktail, then headed over to GYM before braving The Eagle. I'm sure Karen was the first woman to step foot in this infamous leather bar in years. I was surprised to see about 30 bloggers show up on the rooftop that night. By the time 1:30am rolled around, we were pooped and headed back.
Sunday, Brian and I had good intentions of the day being relaxing. We went to see Spamalot that afternoon and was going to head to Astoria to see Byrne. Instead we met Byrne, Joe, Chris, Michael, Scott, Sean and others at The Dugout for a beer bust. After already being tipsy, we headed over to The Eagle again for more drinking. Did I mention that Sunday Brian and I got a hotel at the Newark Airport in New Jersey so we would be ready for our 6am flight? It took us 45 minutes to get to the hotel. Stupid us. We should have went back after geting sloshed at The Dugout. Still, another fun night with the boys. I even had some man whip out his huge, enormous penis and place it in my hand. Too bad Karen wasn't around for that.
Getting up this morning wasn't the easiest thing after only 5 hours of sleep.
Another GB:NYC3 come and gone. I'm sure there will be a GB:NYC4 next year.
For those who want to see all the pics from the entire weekend, please click here. Remember, we're photo nuts and take pictures of EVERYTHING.
A special thanks goes out to everyone who attended. I know I'm going to miss some people that were there, but here's a list off the top of my head. You can find most of their links on my blogroll. Some I know I'll have to add here once my blogrolling piece of shit is back up and running. There were a few bloggers there and for the life of me, I can't remember their names or blogs. Sucks getting old.
Joe My God
Life by Jase
Tuna Girl
So I Like Superman
Palochi
CFCSON
Rcktman
Addaboy
My Friday to Sunday Life
Circle in a Square
Traveling Spotlight
VInny Bag of Doughnuts
The Sean Show
Bear in a Box
Crash and Byrne
Mark of Kane
Orange Paper Bike
Glennalicious
Someone in a Tree
And now Jose'
Cynically Optimistic
Blather and Bosh
Til the Cows Come Home
Splenda in the Grass
PaTCH
Tinman
Obertictum
We like Sheep
Bobzyeruncle
Letters to Zac
Postcards from Hells Kitchen
Proceed at Your Own Risk
My Secretive Life
After another night of drinking at The Dugout and The Eagle the night before, we woke up this morning at 4:30am to catch our flight home. Nothing like landing, rushing home, showering and heading off to work. Poor Brian had to do the same, but headed back to the airport to fly to Denver. Needless to say, we're tired.
We have an incredible time. We'll have pictures and details of the weekend at some point late tonight or early tomorrow morning.
