I'm sure like the rest of the nation, you're all cursing the skies at the weather. Nothing like a massive arctic blast to hit half of the country. It started raining last night around 8pm. The temps went from a high of 80 to about 38 degrees. Nothing like taking out the dog to pee when it's like that outside. Today, it's raining still and it's supposed to start sleeting and possibly snowing by early afternoon.
Our fair city shuts down in weather like this. We're not used to this type of shit. I don't miss the midwest, thats for sure. Can you believe that they already closed down colleges and schools and it hasn't even started snowing or icing over yet? I'm sure the local supermarkets are jam packed with people buying last minute items to sustain them through the upcoming blizzard.
A blizzard that might produce one inch in accumulation of snow.
I love me some Texas, but I'll never get used to the reaction of people here in weather like this. The morning shows are nothing but continuous coverage of the "Arctic Blast!!" They have news reporters throughout the metroplex, providing up to date coverage of what the ground looks like and how fast traffic is moving.
Most people aren't here at work today.
Dumbasses.
There's a lot to do in preparation for a party. Straighten up the house and put everything away. Finish up all the laundry. Clean the bathrooms and kitchen. Sweep and clean the hardwoods. Spray everything down with Febreeze (love that stuff) due to the dog. Dust the entire house. Make numerous runs to the grocery store and liquor store. Put up any last minute decorations and string up just one more strand of lights.
The party is on Saturday and I lazy as all get out. I like to blame it on my new medication, Crestor. The hunky tech from Monday asked me if I was tired and lathargic from my new med. I wasn't until he mentioned it. All I want to do is lay around the house watching Law and Order reruns. Maybe it is affecting me.
I was able to get the guestroom bedding clean, finish the laundry and clean up the guestroom. Brett will be coming in around 4:30 on Friday so I have to have his room ready. At least I got something done and out of the way. We did get the majority of the food and liquor bought this past Sunday. I just keep sitting on the couch looking around the room thinking of all I have to do and instead I grab the remote and start channel flipping.
I know once crunch time starts to happen, I'll be frantically running around the house like crazy, getting everything finished. I have friends who have offered to help me get ready for the party, but asking someone to scrub your toilet isn't the easiest thing to do. I'm sure they're thinking along the lines of helping me put beer in the fridge and organize meat and cheese trays.
Maybe I need to hire one of those naked male housecleaning services.
I sat for an hour just waiting to have my stress test on my heart yesterday. I left work around 12:30, thinking I would have it done and then come back to work. Normally It's supposed to work this way. I didn't get home until 7:00pm. You would think they wouldn't cause undue stress on their heart patients.
I love signing a waiver saying that they're not responsible in case I have a heart attack. They inject you with thallium (I can't believe they inject you with this shit), take heart photos for 25 minutes, run you on a treadmill until you almost pass out, shoot you full of thallium again and then take more pictures for 25 minutes. The whole process normally takes a couple hours, but it took almost 5 hours due to computer glitches and the nurse juggling four other patients who were in their 80's or more.
The tech who ran me on the treadmill was hot as fuck. Huge, enormous, muscular guy with highlighted hair, who liked to say the word bud and dude a lot. You could tell it weirded him out having to shave my chest. He even made me pull the strap around me and tighten it myself to hold in all the wires. The funny thing, is I could have sworn this guy was gay. My gaydar was going off like crazy. Guess I was wrong. He told me they don't get a lot of younger guys in the office. I guess I should take that as a compliment.
Needless to say, I'm not happy about the shaving part. I look like someone who had radiation treatment only on his chest. Do I shave the entire thing? Trim it down? Deal with 10 golfball sized bald spots? I think I cried a little when I looked down and there was this pile of hair (with lots of grey in it I might add) on my lap.
The one thing I've liked about my body is my hairy chest. I'm not crazy about anything else. I've always had a low self-esteem regarding my body. Slender. No butt. Thin legs. This is the one thing I like.
The funniest part of the test was when he looked at me and asked me if I was some sort of marathon or long distance runner, or if I did high cardiovascular exercises my entire life. I had to laugh. I said not unless you consider drinking beer or lounging around the house naked a new form of exercise. He couldn't understand. I was able to keep my blood pressure and heart rate relatively low considering how long I was on the treadmill. Just for that, he extended my running time and the steepness of the incline. I almost passed out towards the end.
The picture honestly doesn't do it justice.
One Holiday down, two more to go. We had a very nice time visiting Brian's parents for Thanksgiving. Honestly, there's not much to do other then eat, nap, visit, eat, nap, shop, eat then followed by some more napping. I got more rest those four days then I know what to do with it.
Mama Judy baked enough food to feed and army and pies out the ass. I have apple, pumpkin, coconut creme, chocolate creme, cherry icebox, key lime and pecan pies sitting in my fridge. Not to mention about 15 pounds of turkey and dressing. I barely made it out the house without being given vegetables and gravy. It's sad because Brian is out this week like usual and I'm stuck with all these pies and food. I'm afraid it's all going to go to waste. Either that or I'm going to gain ten pounds this week.
This was Max's first visit to Big Spring. It might be his last. Once he saw the 4 cats they have living around the house, he was going nuts and wanted to chase them all the entire time. Lots of barking and whinning. He also peed on their living room floor within the first 5 minutes of us walking in the door. We were paranoid the entire weekend that he was going to take a dump or something on their new carpet. I could have just died right there on the spot. We had JUST finished bragging on how well behaved he is and that he's 100% house trained. We didn't realize that the previous home owners had many dogs and cats. I'm sure Max could smell things we couldn't.
To keep ourselves entertained one evening, we used some of the animal carcassas that are lying around the house and terrorized Max with them.
Take a look:
I'm not sure why every time we go out of town, we tend to wait until the last minute to get everything ready. I had to make a covered dish for a potluck here at work. I had to finish a couple loads of laundry. Get everything packed. In the mean time, we went out to dinner with friends and caught a really horrible movie. Something to do with "Going to Prison" or whatever. Worst movie ever. I've never seen anything so bad in quite a long time. Go see Happy Feet instead. Now that was a great movie.
During the whole night of running around frantically trying to multi-task my ass off, hubby and I got into a small argument. I'm not sure why he puts up with me sometimes. I'm very anal, organized and want things done a certain way. When things veer off from that pattern, I tend to freak out. He's laid back, easy going, 'things will get done on their own time' type of guy. He's a saint I tell you. Everything got finished and my tired ass was in bed around 11:30. Way past my bed time. He was up until 1am. Probably afraid to come near me.
In other news, my blogdaddy Victor and his partner have officially become real daddies! I can't begin to tell you how happy I am for them. Go check out his initial story. Hopefully soon he'll be posting pictures. I do have to say that I feel like the National Enquiror trying to get first shots of TomKat's Baby Suri. I actually got to see pictures of this precious little bundle of joy and I didn't even have to pay a million dollars. Happy little baby he seems to be. I'm excited to live vicariously through them and the raising of their child. Although I think I would make a great Dad and Brian would too, children probably isn't something that is in our future.
Go tell him congratulations for me.
I hope everyone out there has a wonderful Thanksgiving. Spend it with friends or family.
We always made it a tradition at thanksgiving either with friends or family to say what we're thankful for. I'm thankful to have a job that puts a roof over my head. A wonderful husband who puts up with me. A caring and understanding family. Many great and wonderful friends. A beautiful home we can call our own. Hell on four legs, our puppy Max. And last but not least, to all my friends out there who come and read, comment every day.
What are you thankful for?
I'm not a morning person. I have never claimed to be one of those perky ass people who literally drive me to slit my wrists when I'm in their vacinity before 9am. No offense to my hubby. I love them, but they need to stay the hell away from me until I've had my cup of coffee.
Needless to say, I'm in my normal mood this morning. I realize I'm low on gas and a tad bit late to work. I don't have a set time to be here, I just prefer to get here around 7:30-7:45. I'm grumpy. Traffic is already a bitch and I'm only a block from my house. I whip into the Race Track gas station. Not sure if they're a regioinal station or if there across the nation. They're known for their gas being always a few cents cheaper then anyone else.
While standing in the cold pumping gas into my car, you hear the typical ritual over the loud speaker from inside. "Pump one is ready and thank you for coming to Race Track!" "Pump 7 is ready and thank you for coming to Race Track!" She continues to do this with the other 8 cars that are getting their gas. I'm not paying much attention. I don't care if I'm told that my pump is on and they're thankful that I'm at Race Track.
Then I hear from the perky woman inside, "And to the sharply dressed guy in the hot Mustang, Your pump is ready and thank you for coming to Race Track!"
Maybe she saw the scowl on my face all the way from inside and decided to make me smile.
Well it worked.
I'm sure we'll probably do our yearly Holiday Home Tour ZeitCast before our party, but here a few shots of some of our Christmas Decorations. Please grab your Mariah Carey Christmas CD (you know you all have one) and put it one before viewing.
If you can't tell our downstairs theme is birds and feathers. Upstairs in our master bedroom is um, blue, icey, white, silver, glittery stuff.....
I swear it was our friends goal to do nothing but get us drunk. Friday, we got a call from our friend Ms. Sally (Eric) and he asked if we would like to go out and have some mexican food. Always being the ones to shove queso in our mouths, we quickly said yes. I had to give Sally hell. We hardly ever hear from him. Found out all of his friends were busy that night and on dates or working. We still love him anyways. After a few drinks, he was in rare form and wanting to go to The Round Up. We lasted only a couple hours before heading home.
One thing that I should mention that happened on Friday, was the arrival of my new piano. We purchased a digital baby grand piano. A Valdesta 500 (yamaha). Having a piano again and being able to play is right up there with being able to blow glass again. I've been wanting to get a piano for such a long time. I started playing when I was around 4 years old and continued taking lessons until I was 25. I was our church pianist and our choir accompaniest back home when I was 13 years old. I didn't stop until I left for graduate school. Since that time, it was difficult finding a place (and time) to practice. I did it as much as I could. The last few years, it's been even more difficult.
Not anymore. I spent every free moment I had the entire weekend, playing as much as I could. It felt wonderful. Our living room is a bit crowded, but we'll do some arranging to make it work. We plan on getting a less bulky livingroom group next year to free up some space.
Saturday we spent hanging out with Mama (Robert). Had some dinner, saw the movie Borat (again) and did a little bit of Christmas shopping. I was able to get the most difficult gift out of the way. The one for my Mother. I immediately found a Swarovski crystal necklace and bracelet in pink. She was very specific on what she wanted. One gift down, only a few more to buy.
We went to a friends Birthday dinner that night. Of course after having dinner with 27 other people, crappy service and so so food, I wasn't in the mood to go out, but they insisted that we meet them out for a few drinks afterwards. We ran into a few friends, had a couple beers and headed home.
Sunday was spent finishing up the decorations for outside and the tree upstairs. I wanted Brian to have some more quality time decorating since he's gone so much. Mama called us around 4pm and told us to get our asses to The Door for the beerbust.
Once the sun went down and my nipples either would cut glass or knock over peoples drinks due to the cold, we headed home.
Last night while talking with Brian on the phone, he mentioned in a joking manner that he should just fly out that night rather then Friday morning like usual. I said, "You should!" Well, he did. He was all excited. He didn't care how late he would get in. He wanted to be home. He stumbled into bed this morning around 4:30am and was out like a light.
I made him call me before he came up the stairs so he wouldn't scare the living shit out of me. He's done that before. In my mind I know he's coming home, but having someone walk into your bedroom at 3am in the morning and lean over to kiss you can be a little heart stopping. I wanted to avoid screaming at the top of my lungs at all cost.
The good thing is that I get him for the entire next week. Due to the Thanksgiving holiday, he gets to work from home. Now we can get back to our normal routine of me following him around and picking up after him all the time and telling him to use a coaster.
I kid. I love having him home.
UPDATE: I keep telling y'all to come visit us!
I had my appointment this morning with the Cardiologist. I had my EKG and my Sonogram. I'm going in for my Stress Test on the treadmill in about 8 days. My Doctor said that my EKG showed irregularities, but assumes that's due to my age. He mentioned "my age" way too many times for my liking.
We talked about my family history. Pretty much every male has died before the age of 65 due to some sort of heart problems. He told me again, due to my age it was time for me to have everything checked out.
We didn't discuss diet or exercise, nor medication either. Not yet anyway. I have a follow up in about 4 weeks to go over the sonogram, EKG, Stress Test and blood work up after I've been on Crestor, Fiber and Fish oil pills for another month.
The worse part about the whole experience? Having tons of extremely sticky stickers attached all over my chest, then having them ripped off one by one. The nurse kept saying "Sorry!" every ten seconds. There was ten of them, I swear.
Only time in my life I wish I was hairless.
Long story told very short. A few years ago, while living by myself in an apartment in the gayborhood, I came home like normal one afternoon from work and walked to my apartment. When I turned around to close the door it was kicked in by a man with a gun. He hit me with the gun, shoved me on the couch and told me to sit still, while he locked the door. For the next hour, he hit me, threatened me and asked for all my money.
I tried to convince him to let both of us go to an ATM and I would get some money out for him. I was trying to figure a way out of the apartment so I could run. I offered to let him take anything in my apartment. He didn't want anything but cash. He ended up taking a jar full of change. He told me his wife was a whore and gave him AIDS and now HE was going to give it to me. He told me to take my clothes off. I stood there very bold and told him that he was too late. I already had it and that if he was lying, I would be giving it to him instead. He backed down and then gave me a hug (seriously), telling me that he was sorry and that he was only trying to support his children.
He then locked me in my bathroom and told me to stay there until he got far away. Cops were called after I got out. He lived right across the street from me. He was never arrested. Nothing was ever done. Cops thought I might have invited him in for a drug deal or for sex. Cops are notorious in this area for not giving a shit some times.
It took weeks if not months to get over being able to walk to my car alone or in the dark. Even until this day, I tend to freak out for no reason when in a parking garage or finding myself alone in a dark place outside.
I haven't had an incident like that in a while. I'm very careful still. I constantly look around me when I'm walking from my car to my house or anywhere for that matter. I'm keenly aware of my surroundings.
Yesterday, I ended up having to work really late. Well, late for me which was 7pm. I walked out of my building and into total darkness. No landscaping lights. No street lights. Nothing. I could barely even see my car. I stood there for a moment and paniced. Not knowing where to turn. I just knew someone was around the corner, or under my car waiting to attack me the minute I started walking away from the door.
Within a few minutes another guy followed me out and scared the living shit out of me. I didn't feel like explaining why I wanted to pee my pants at that moment, so I said goodbye and practically ran to my car while he was still in the parking lot with me.
You should have seen me when I got into my car. I was acting like a Charlies Angel when trying to scope out my car making sure no one was in the back seat.
Never working late AGAIN.
It was a weekend I didn't want to end. We didn't do anything special or out of the ordinary. We didn't see any shows, fancy dinners, parties or a wild night out on the town.
We had breakfast at our favorite old diner which was served to us by Natalie. The older waitress with the big, high Texas hair, way too much make up (lipstick way around the lip line), a sweet southern twang and enormous American flag jewelery.
We caught a movie at the theater. Took Max to the dog park. Did a little bit of shopping. Organized the house and worked on some of the decorations. Had dinner at our friends new home they recently bought and the rest of the time was spent curled up on our couch watching dvd's and some of our favorite TV shows.
It might sound like a busy weekend, but it was actually one of the most relaxing we have put in.
I wish we had more weekends like this. No commitments, no plans.
One more thing:
This post is going to be about sex. It will include graphic details. I know most of you out there are squeamish about subjects like this and rather that I write stories about kittens, butterflies, rainbows and charm bracelets.
Back in July when Brian came back home with me to Nebraska to spend July 4th weekend with the family, it was kind of difficult to get any bowchickawowow time. It was difficult to find a hidden spot to give each other a blow job. The idea of renting a motel room for an hour in one of the many Bates styled motels we have back home is totally out of the question.
It's not like we had an extra bedroom in my Mothers farm house, situated far enough away from their bedroom. My mother is almost 80 years old. I'm not about to give her a heart attack or stoke at this stage in her life. I don't want to hear her having sex (yes they get it on in their ripe old age) and I don't want her hearing me. Brian and I were staying in the basement. The only "other" sort of bedroom in the house. There are no doors, just a winding staircase leading downstairs from the side of the livingroom.
After a few days, I could tell Brian was ready to explode. Me on the other hand even though a horny buck at times, can wait if I have to. Brian being the young 31 stud that he is, often can't wait. We would be shopping around Walmart and he would get a boner for absolutely no reason at all. Hell, he might have even came a few times due to the friction of his jeans. Who knows. I just knew that the pot was ready to boil over.
My Mother is a late owl. I used to be back in the day, but anymore I'm ready for bed around 10 or 11 o'clock. Brian and I kiss my Mother goodnight and we head downstairs. She's right above us, watching her Stories and doing her crossword puzzles. I kissed Brian goodnight and rolled over. Did I mention that I'm sleeping on a twinsized bed and he's on a blow up mattress on the floor?
Faster then how the Democrats took over the House and the Senate (had to throw that in there), he was on my dick like ugly on an ape. I paniced, telling him to "STOP!!" in my most dramatic hushed voice and over exaggerated hand and facial expressions I could muster. This was no deterrent for him. He kept on anyway. I was so nervous I could barely sustain anything, so I thought I would go down on him. Get the boy off so he can get to bed. Hopefully he wouldn't be a loud moaner like he normally is. I would have to use my "loud fake cough" coverup if that happened.
Once things got a little going, the sex got.....louder. When I say louder, I mean more sloppy, slurpy, squishy noises. Right in the middle of our 2 minute hot passionate session, I paniced again and with my mouth muffled for obvious reasons, I said out the side of my mouth, "No Squishy Squishy! NO SQUISHY SQUISHY!!!"
This threw us into a fit of giggles. We then proceeded to quickly finish with very little squishy squishy noises.
I just got a call from Brian. He's at the airport in San Diego, getting ready to take off. He told me that he would eat a little Snacky Snacky beforehand so we can meet for a late lunch when he arrives. I told him I would also have a Snacky Snacky.
I paused a second then proclaimed, "But don't think you're getting any Squishy Squishy!"
I got a call yesterday from my Mom. She had gone yet again to another one of her friends funerals. Lately it seems that Mom and her husbands close circle are getting cancer and passing away quite quickly. My Mom tries to sound like this is just a normal part of life, but I think it's making her think about her own mortality. She'll be 80 years old next year.
My Mom has been friends with this couple and their family for probably 40 years or more. Naturally, they met through our church. Their kids grew up with our families kids. She was my sunday school teacher for many years. Her husband worked with my brothers. Their daughter was best friends with my sister. Many ties.
They met when they were 15 years old. Highschool sweethearts. Neither one ever dated another person.
Once they reached their golden years they started a group called Keen-agers for people 55 and older. This group of people got together frequently for bible studies, dinners, trips and other events. Their goal was to keep the group as active as possible.
More then a year ago, both husband and wife developed cancer around the same exact time. About a month ago, my Mom attended the funeral of the husband. He was a happy man the day he died mom said. They found him singing at the top of his lungs, some old hymn before he passed away. He mentioned to his wife to not be very long, because he would miss her.
There hardly was ever a day that these two didn't spend together. They were inseperable. They did everything together.
Yesterday Mom attended the funeral of the wife. My Mom got to see her and chat with her for a while a couple days before she died. From what she told me this woman was on her death bed, organizing her funeral. Picking out what songs to sing. The dress she wanted to be buried in. Even down to the choice of food to serve afterwards. Back home, people gather afterwards for a huge potluck for the family and friends. Not sure if thats done everywhere.
She asked Mom to pray that she would go soon because she had been away from her husband for way too long and needed to see him.
A month had passed. She was never away from his side more then a day.
You don't meet couples like that very often.
We got the House. Crossing fingers for the Senate.
I'm not the type to sit in front of the TV watching results come in hour by hour. The only night I ever do that is when we're voting for president and I usually spend half the time biting my nails and pissed off. I decided to avoid that last night and watched a movie. Checking out the results this morning. I eat less Pepcid that way.
After the movie I organized all of our Christmas decorations. *gasps heard throughout the land* I know you think it's early, but we have our Christmas Party (y'all are invited) on December 2nd. The weekend before we're up at Brian's parents for Thanksgiving. There is no way to get 2 large trees, 3 tiny trees, garland and wreaths decorated in only a few days. It usually takes us a full week. Plus, with Brian out of town most of the week, he doesn't want to miss out on decorating (with my supervision) so I have to be organized and start early.
Downstairs theme will be feathers and birds. Upstairs master bedroom will be icey blues, whites, silvers and lots of glittery stuff to match the steel blue and white bedding. We went shopping this past weekend and probably bought enough new Christmas decorations to fill 3 more boxes. I'm not sure where in the hell we're going to put it all.
So yes, by next week, I'll be fluffing the trees and garland, getting them ready to decorate the following weekend.
In other jawdropping news, whenever I take Max out for his walk, a handsome fellow with his two dogs is usually walking his as well. Over the past month we've struck up conversations. Talking about each others partners, our lives and of course our dogs. We've been invited to their Halloween Party and they're invited to our Christmas Party.
The one thing that blew me away was his half Shar Pei and half Chow mix dog. He's 10 years old, a little grumpy towards other dogs, but otherwise a sweet heart. He's got the same exact coloring as Max and same markings. His fur is slightly thicker, but lately Max's fur is getting longer and fuller. The guy told me that Max looked exactly like his dog did when he was a puppy. I tried to get the dog to sit still for a picture. Yes, I've been carring a camera with me at times in hopes of taking this dogs picture.
At least I think I know what Max will look like when he gets older.
Today is too important to waste with some silly post about what I did last night.
Get your ass out there and vote. No matter what your stance is on anything, it is your right and a right that you should exercise. Grab your friends. Send them an email. Text message them. Call them on the phone. Get everyone that you can to go with you.
Do whatever it takes.
Just get out there and do it!
A little late today. Having trouble getting motivated.
I have to say that Friday nights concert at the yoga studio was quite good. Very intimate, candle lit, great music, bottles of wine. We might have to go back and try it again. They have someone playing every weekend and they're booked through March of next year.
Mark from Citywoof and I got to hang out a few times. It was really great to see him. I'm hoping that he had such a good time here and wants to move.
We ended up hanging out one more time Sunday afternoon at the beer bust at The Door. We all got a little tipsy and I was forced to go eat at a restaurant I despise afterwards. Conquita's or as I like to call, Conjealed Catfood on a Tortilla. The food is bland as hell. No color. The meat is filled with canned peas and carrots. A lot. I hate that. So I ordered some queso, thinking I could fill up on that. Nope. They bring out stringy white cheese in a bowl. I made the mistake of asking them to put meat in the queso (which they thought was odd) and so now the queso came out with peas and carrots in it. It was a no win situatuation. I don't like authentic mexican food. I like Tex-Mex. Period.
Nasty. Brian owes me so much for taking advantage of me being drunk and hungry and voting against me for where to eat.
So today I sit here at home, going through my work emails. It's raining and thundering outside. Martha Stewart is on TV.
I love not going into work on days like this.
Brian hopefully is heading to the airport as I type this, and catching an early flight home. If all goes well, he should be home by 1pm. It seems lately, every time he or even I fly anywhere there's some sort of maintenance issue on the planes or weather has halted take offs and landings. Can't seem to catch a break.
One of my clients employees and I have gotten to be pretty close since I started this position. There's six business analyst that I deal with on a daily basis. She's a self proclaimed fag hag and at often times swears she's just a gay man trapped in a womans body. She makes me giggle.
She's gone through a lot of trauma lately. Battling cancer at such a young age, which caused one problem after another and right in the middle of this whole mess, she lost her faithful companion named Cupcake. She's flying down to see a friend of hers perform tonight. She acts like she's more excited to see Brian and I instead. Which is only normal. She's only human.
I figured the venue would be some sort of smokey, dimly lit bar. When I got the invite, it's happening at Bend Studios. A yoga place. The minute I read this, I cocked my head to the side and made a funny face like dogs do when they hear something strange. A yoga studio that has artist come and perform? The venue holds about 85 people. No alcohol is served, but people bring bottles of wine or a six pack of beer. There are no places to sit. They throw down a bunch of yoga mats and everyone just cops a squat. Do they wash the yoga mats off first? The man or woman on their guitar will belt out their songs to a tree hugging, birkenstock wearing group of people.
Now I'm not saying anything about people who do Yoga (David!) since I do Yoga myself. Everyone from tree huggers, crystal worshipers and lesbians who never shave any body part to businessmen and soccer moms do yoga on a regular basis. But after looking at the pics of some events, I thought I had better bring my clove cigarettes, a tamborine and a hit of acid.
I haven't told Brian exactly what and where we're going tonight. I thought I would make it a surprise.
I'm so dead.
My quarterly checkup was yesterday. I like to record any sort of progress or changes here on my site since the older I get the worse my memory gets.
My Tcells were 1158, Viral Load below 50 (undetectable), Kidney functions were ok (not perfect), Triglycerides 1120, Cholesterol 248 and HDL (good cholesterol) 38 (should be at least 40).
My counts as far as tcells and viral load have been great (better then great) for at least ten years. Few bumps along the way, but nothing that wasn't fixable. My counts have been steady for the past 4 years running.
Unfortunately, high Triglycerides and Cholesterol has been abnormally high for the past 4 years as well. They mainly attribute it to my medication and partly to family history. Combine the two together and we have a problem. I used to jokingly say that I would never die from any complications from HIV. I would follow down the same path as every male member of my entire family and have a heart attack before the age of 65. My Dad was the only male who lived past the age of 65. Nine months past.
For the longest time, I thought I might beat the odds and not follow that same path. I eat better then the rest of my family. I am more active then them. My brothers have both shown signs of the same issues that's plagued my entire family.
Steadily my blood pressure is rising. No matter what medication I've taken recently, including taking fiber and fish oil pills along with everything else, can't seem to make a dent in my tri's and cholesterol. Somehow I've managed to retain a decent level of good cholesterol. Go figure. I can't stop taking my HIV meds for obvious reasons, yet they are the one thing adding fuel to the fire. Most of the meds for reducing tri's and cholesterol (statin drugs) cause achy muscles and head aches. The medication tears down muscle tissue, causing soreness. Kind of feels like you have a slight touch of the flu all the time. I started back on my medication last night.
Guess how I feel this morning?
Needless to say I'm bummed. I know I need to get to the gym on a regular basis. I know I need to eat better then I do. At this point, I wonder if it would even help? Yeah, I have a bad attitude today.
And the best part about the whole thing, is I get to start going to a Cardiologist soon as well, because my nationally reknown HIV specialist doctor said he's at his wits end and has no clue what to do anymore.
Anyone want to join me for a chicken fried steak dinner tonight, slathered in grease and creamed gravy?
My treat.
I finally got a chance to see my long time buddy Mark from over at Citywoof for the first time in quite a number of years. We had met over ten years ago, the night I got my first computer and was sitting on my living room floor chatting in an AOL chatroom. Before you know it, it was 3am and I was still going at it. Luckily, the best thing that came out of that first night was meeting Mark and becoming good friends. Ten years later, we still keep in contact, call on rare occasions and have now gotten to see each other twice. Friendships can blossom anywhere.
After drinks, then a great dinner, we headed to the Round Up for more drinks and to hang out with some friends. They eventually headed down to Alexandre's a cabaret/piano bar. I decided to just stay where I was and wait for them. I had good intentions of staying later and hanging out with everyone, but after 5 or 6 country kareoke songs and two more beers, I had enough and was ready for bed. It's a school night after all. Luckily, I'll see him again a few times this week and weekend.
But one thing I realized, is that when I'm out alone without Brian and I'm hanging out with Friends, I tend to stand there quietly like a wallflower, not knowing what to say, sipping on my beer, listening to everyone talk while nodding my head ever so often and smile. When Brian is around, we're all laughing and cutting up, having a great time. I felt like a bump on a log last night. Brian truly IS the Mayor of Gaytown.
Maybe it was just my mood. Maybe I was just missing him. Maybe I've lost my ability to party or I'm just getting old and I need my very young boyfriend around to make me feel young and have fun.
Who knows.
