Tonight will Last Forever

This is a piece I am working on for a submission to a book of essays, and is on it's first draft status, but I just find it a good start. It is a true story that happened to friend of mine. I collect embarrassing stories and make them my own at times...but will give credit when requested. In this case, the person...would rather I take the credit.

When I was 17, I realized how far I strayed from my father's aspirations, and was desperately determined to put myself back onto the track that he (and at the time, what I thought that I) wanted. I was going to be a heterosexual man, who would get married, have children, and eventually pass on the family name as well as the family traditions.

Yes...I was pretending to be straight. All gay men do it, and until we are ready to admit our sexuality to ourselves, and later to others, we pretend like the best academy award winning actors. In order to maintain this facade, I decided it was in my best interest to find a girlfriend. This was a lot more difficult that most people think as most of the girls I knew were more like friends to me. In desperate fear that I was going to "found out" by our fellow students and my father, I picked a girl named Monica (not Lewenski) that I didn't know very well, but I heard could be really nice. She was pretty, but not so pretty that she dated a lot of boys.

We began dating in December of my Junior year. This was a tactical plan on my part, because is was before the valentines dance, and I had a Junior Prom to worry about. So our weekly dates consisted of movies, or dinner, or bowling, or just hanging at mall. Now being the virginal actor that I was, our dates ended with me getting a little touching over the sweater action, and a lot of kissing. This was more than enough for me, as this "relationship" was progressing faster than I was ready or wanted to. I was beginning to feel pressured to "put out".

Now in my comedy routines, I tell men to freak out their girlfriends and say "honey...can't we just hug?" But being 17, I was supposed to be the one putting on the pressure. I knew that the gig was up, and Monica was starting to get frustrated with how far I wasn't going, but she agreed to go to the Junior prom with me.

Now I had not learned a lesson by that age yet. Women talk. Women talk to each other...about EVERYTHING! (something even us gay men find actually strange) All of her friends were at this points sexually active, and they knew that she and I weren't. They gave her advice as to how to seduce me, and even more importantly, they convinced her that she must insist that during this seduction I perform oral sex on her, as she will love how it feels, and it was a man's duty. She (the group of them) decided that junior prom night would be the night, and that we should join her friends in renting a room at the local Holiday Inn to go swimming at the after-prom party. I naively agreed to this plan. We men are at the mercy of women sometimes, and when they make a plan...you don't screw it up by not going along.

The Night to End Innocence
On prom night, our school had the event at the same hotel as where the after-prom activities were being held. The before dance dinner consisted of Steak, baked potato, corn, and a chocolate chip cheesecake. The prom's theme was "Tonight Will Last Forever". Little did they know true that was going to be. This brings up another thought as how are high school aged women so overly romantic. Women in their 30's have already realized that love does happen during a 5 minute song, and that men can be real dogs (or is that just my bitter self?)

Meanwhile...Monica and I snuck out with the others and somehow, someone (I can't remember who) had gotten us beer and champagne. At that time of my life...I was a lightweight. Monica suggested we take a six pack up to the room. Uh-oh...I know where this is going...but I have no choice but to go along.

We go up to the room where in 15 minutes, I had nervously drank 4 beers while Monica was speaking to me about how much she "loves" me. I am opening my 5th when Monica suggests I sit with her on the bed. A tickle fight ensues and before I know it, she is unbuttoning my shirt. Now I am naive...but not that naive. This girl is all but throwing herself at me, and I am going to have to take the bait.

I start silently chanting in my head "Tom Cruise, Tom Cruise, Tom Cruise, Tom Cruise, Tom Cruise, Tom Cruise," as my hands start doing a bit of wondering. "This isn't bad, I realize....Tom just needs to work out the chest a little...he's a bit flabby up in the pecs". Dad would have been proud. Now my mother is an artist, and I have seen many naked women models, so looking at and touching and even *gasp* kissing women's breasts was not a big deal.

The southern regions of a woman's body...that's another story. I had never seen what a woman looked like below the belt, so I took the cowards way out and turned the light out. Monica turned it back on, as she wanted to see my "soul through my eyes". (now at this point...I should probably say that there are three types of gay men. Type 1: Has had sex with women. Type 2: Never had sex with women and never will. Type 3: The mere mention of having sex with a woman makes them turn pale)

I looked at her with beer goggled eyes and said "aren't we going swimming?" She smiled and said "Later". First she wanted me to do something for her. I think the look of revulsion on my face would have deterred her from requesting what she wanted, but one thing about Monica I can say I appreciated...she was determined. I (gulp) very reluctantly agreed.

I removed her dress with the care and precision of a bomb squad member disabling a bomb. George Michael (who ironically was also closeted) was singing "If you're gonna do it, do it right! Do it with me" on the radio. I secretly wished it was him laying on the bed in front of me rather than this aggressive hussy!

I grasped (Tom Cruise) the waistband (Tom Cruise) of her underwear (Tom Cruise) and slowly pulled down (Tom Cruise) her panties. My hands were shaking more out of fear of being found out than out of fear of what I was about to do. (TOM CRUISE) With the thoughts of a soldier going off to war, I found myself thinking "I'm going in". My body, unfortunately was not of the same thought. Images of the plant from the Little Shop of Horror's were coming into my head.

I began to breath through my mouth, as I had heard from several of my friends that women can have the odor of Tuna (I honestly didn't know for sure, but I wasn't about to find out that night). If it is true...I don't want to know. If it isn't true...you women get a bad rap.

I placed my face close enough that I could perform the act that I have heard straight men talk about and women rave over and took one look at this woman's nether regions. As I opened my mouth (while holding my breath), my stomach heaved, and the contents of 5 beers, a T-bone steak, one baked potato, a slice of chocolate chip cheesecake, and worst of all the corn came forth from my mouth and landed squarely on this poor girl's "poo nanny". If I though it looked bad before...the corn made it all the worse. And that was when I realized...I would never be straight. Sorry dad. I'll adopt.

**** So what happened??? ****

Well as I said before...women talk about everything...and this was not an exception. I remained dateless for the senior year (unless you count the quarterback on the football team *giggle* ) and Monica never spoke to me again. I'm sure the poor girl needed therapy to get over the complex I gave her. To this day, she probably thinks "Is it me? Do I smell bad? Does it look bad?" Needless to say she was not pleased to find out that I came out of the closet, as I'm sure she thought she was the reason I "turned gay" (this is my story...I can think what I want).

So you men out there who do the deed...my hat is off in respect to you. You do what you like, and I'm going to keep chasing Tom Cruise.

Threshold of Revelations

I had an epiphany yesterday. I don't get these often, so the fact that I had one tells me I should definitely write about it. Call it an end of year review, but I realized that I am a damn good person. I'm a performer at heart, so I don't suffer from low self-esteem, I suffer from No Self Esteem. That being said, I do like things about myself, but over the past year I had grown to doubt some of those things. Yesterday was like a snap back to reality as I stood looking out over the Pacific Ocean in the morning light.

The last four months I had lamented and grieved over the loss of my friendship/relationship with Jeff (I never use last names in this site because I protect the innocent...but if he ever mentions to me that he doesn't like me writing this or anything about him...well I have a ghost white butt he can kiss...this is my blog!), and it just hit me that I wasn't the one who lost out. I try to be one of the most loyal, non judgmental people I can be, and to have me call someone a friend is a big thing, as I don't take friendships or use that word lightly. These past 4 months, I've been feeling sorry for myself and what I had lost...and yesterday it really hit me that I didn't lose anything. He did.

My friendship was completely one sided. I gave continuously out of some psychological need to care for someone else. The problem was that I stopped caring for myself at the same time. In the five months I was with Jeff, my self esteem took such a beating and I kept coming back for more. Worst was that I was blind to what I was doing to myself at the time. Ain't hindsight a bitch?

Now some people would say that I am being a little bitchy here, and maybe I am. I'm not mad at him anymore. I really pity him. I was his only friend in the area, and as he admitted, really his only friend at all. I'm glad he found love, and for his sake, I hope he can keep hold of it, because you can only burn bridges once in this world before the fires start burning the roads. This is his problem, and I've somehow over the past 36 hours I just let go of all of it (could it be these "special" brownies my mom has been baking?).

So a threshold of revelations was hit today, a weight was lifted, and I'm just in a darn good mood. Time to have another brownie.

I'm Going to Need Therapy

So I went out yesterday with my newest step father to an evening T-dance. For those of you who have never been to one, or don't know what a T-Dance is, think dance party at a bar for those continuing from Saturday night. Usually there are several people that are coming down from the drugs taken the night before, and those like me (who remain drug free) who go for a couple of drinks and dancing.

As I've said before, my mother has now married a 30 year old man (three years younger than me). That wouldn't be as much of a problem except that he "bats for both teams". Yes...my mother has worked through all the eligible heterosexual men and is now working on the bisexual ones. Top it all off...I find him completely hot! 5'11", blond hair, blue eyes, and a very low body fat percentage. It wasn't until yesterday's dance that I found out how built he was when he took his shirt off. The man is ripped. Apparently I wasn't the only one to notice as several guys vied to get his attention. He just brushed them off (he's big on monogamy...I give it another year before he and mom divorce), and only danced with me. At that point I needed to get a drink. "This is my step-father..."

Now I refuse to call him daddy...for obvious reasons. He does a great job of introducing me to people I'd like to meet. In person I can be a bit shy, but this man would walk up to people and say..."I'd like you to meet my boy". The reactions on some guy's faces were absolutely priceless.

As for an artist, it frightens me as to how good he is. I've know 50 year old artists that don't have the talent that this man has. When he switches into painting mode, nothing interrupts him. He becomes completely fixated on the image he is creating, and brings to life such incredible paintings. He does both abstracts and realistic (he prefers abstracts) and is beginning to work in mixed media. He'll be one to watch later.

Mom is sculpting today...she is making a coffee table for a client. So I have to entertain myself. May be time to take another trip into the city.

Laughing my way into 2004.

Well both Friday and Saturday's show went off without a hitch. Now I've got to get a bit of focus as I have another show on the 10th of January. New year...new show...new material??? We'll see.

Saturday, spent the morning and early afternoon at MOMA viewing the Diane Arbus Revelations exhibit. I love going to museums, but usually end up getting a major headache by the time I leave. I spend time viewing each piece of art, studying it and trying to get the meaning behind the piece. I like modern art for this reason as it allows for so much interpretation. With the realists, the picture is just that...the picture.

Car called me while I was at the museum. He's in South Beach Miami with a friend, having a bad weather day. Nice to see I'm not the only one getting a bad weather vacation. I am for the first time in a very long time relaxing and enjoying myself. I've slept a full night of sleep every night since I got here, and have been just letting things happen as they do. I guess I needed the time away from home.

So today, I'm going to the beach. Way too cold to swim, but Thien and I plan on going on a picnic (of course if it doesn't quit raining it's going to be a restaurant picnic). We plan on having a private wake for Bruce as a final good bye. Planning this got me thinking about how much has happened in 2003, some regrettable and some that I really am glad about.

Just the personal stuff:

Two different employers laid me off

I restarted my comedy career

I started dating again

One of my strongest friendships was ended badly

I moved into a new home

I started blogging

I learned how to play softball, and volleyball.

Mom turned 50, and got married again (to a 30 year old bisexual man...who I find hot)

But then in the news:

The USA went to war with Iraq...again (where are those Weapons of Mass Destruction anyway?)

North Korea started developing weapons of mass destruction (why do we have a problem with other countries having these weapons when we have them as well?)

The Supreme Court actually surprised me and said I can now legally have sex in every state in the USA (I'm going to Utah!!!)

Massachusetts legalizes gay marriage (I hear many political debates over this one, before the constitutional amendment gets passed)

Madonna kisses Brittany Spears on television (creating one of the largest wet dream fantasies of straight men aged 12 to 70)

Queer Eye for the Straight Guy debuts on Bravo television and gets a viewership of over 2 billion

Boy meets Boy debuts on the same network showing that gay people can demean relationships as much as the straight shows (the Bachelor, The Bachelorette, Joe millionaire, The Average Joe)

Somehow it suddenly became "Hip" to gay

Over 5,000 American soldiers have died in Iraq (They did want our help didn't they?)

Michael Jackson was charged with child molestation (I guess the school bus parked out front of his house was a dead give away. The parents need to be charged with stupidity)

Martha Stewart was charged with insider trading (not a good thing)

Viagra became one the top abused drugs in the USA (because sometimes "Where there's a PILL, there's a way")

We captured Saddam and Iraq still resists

The dow rose to over 10,000 yet unemployment continues to rise.

And the list goes on...I have a lot to make fun of over the next year, and a lot of potential material. Time to go to the picnic.

Rocking around the Christmas tree!

Happy Boxing Day!
Merry Christmas!
Happy Chanukah!
Joyful Kwanzaa!




Woke up Christmas day...raining again. The news says that mud slides occurred south of us. I feel for the families who lost someone...of all days. What a way to remember the holidays...

So the Christmas day...Spent most of the morning preparing the meal. The commune does a multicultural potluck, and my mother bakes like a mad woman. She started the hobby when I was a baby and couldn't afford to buy presents. She would bake cookies for the important people in her life. She bakes them for people that buy her artwork, family members, friends, neighbors, and anyone who makes an impact on her life. This year she baked 19,000 cookies (starting on November 2nd). So I helped her finish her baking, and made Pad Thai for 40 people.

At 6pm...the drummers started and the candles were all lit. The gift exchange was done after dinner which was as always, incredible. The Pad Thai was a hit, as was the seafood enchiladas. I wasn't a fan of one of the curries (something unidentifiable and crunchy in it...*shudder*). Mom's cookies, as always, a major win. I have a box of them to take home with me now.

The gift exchange is my favorite part. Michael likes his glass painting, and I got a great abstract painting. Anthony composed a song for someone, and two people gave poetry pieces. One artist made a blank journal, actually making the paper, and binding it.

The children all gather around the adult artists and they open up stations where the kids can make their own artwork. Being a kid at heart, I did a little painting in oil. I'm thinking I may take a few classes next year to improve my technique or lack thereof.

Today being boxing day, I decided I needed to go for a run, and burn of the 50+ cookies I ate the night before. Raining and muddy, I instead helped clean up around the house instead. Spent the rest of the afternoon preparing for the show tonight. I'm a little nervous performing in front of my family (I always get paranoid performing in front of people I know), but I'll manage.

Time to rehearse again.

I smell like the Olive Garden

I love visiting San Francisco, but I do realize that after a few days...I really miss home cooked meals. Every restaurant, even the bad ones, makes the most incredible meals. You could eat out every night and never get a bad meal (bad service is another story). You end up missing your own plain bad cooking.

So after eating and drinking so much on Monday night, I decided to get in a little exercise and yesterday, took a bike ride through Berkeley, down through Oakland, and crossed the bay into the city. My legs were beginning to feel like rubber, so I caved and locked the bike up and took BART to and spent a little time shopping in the Castro district. This is where my mom gets all the wrong ideas for gifts for me.

For those of you that have never been to the Castro, the area is a bit much. Mostly populated by gay men, the shops all cater to a gay man's taste. I'd like to say that would mean leather couches, rich velvet curtains, and track lighting...but it also means pornographic magnets, videos that would make a prostitute blush, and multiple latex phalli in different shapes and sizes. It was in this area that my mother got the idea for my 30th Birthday present. She asked a store owner what a 30 year old gay man with no boyfriend (I was living with one at the time) and no dating prospects would like for his birthday. The store owners probably thought she was kidding, but sold her a rubber phallus that modesty will only let me describe as larger than life size. Lets just say I use it as a door stop.

So walking through the Castro, I check out the store displays, where they have a Billy Santa which is a Ken Doll that is anatomically correct (not very work safe). Not what I'd want to give my kids for Christmas...but I'm sure my mom is thinking about giving me one.

Went back to the house, and showered. Mom and I were planning on having dinner at the Stinking Rose restaurant. Very touristy, but the food is really good. Everything has garlic in it (which is why I am sweating garlic right now), and I do mean everything...including the desserts. So I get to the restaurant, planning on meeting my mother, give mom's name at the hostess desk and I'm seated at a table for two. Funny...there is a guy at the table...something stinks...and it isn't the garlic. I smell a setup.

Anthony tells me that my mom called his cellular phone to say she couldn't make dinner but that we should have a good dinner together. My mother did not tell me that Anthony would be at this meal, but told Anthony I'd be there. So after apologizing for my mother's blatant behavior, we had a great meal. The Stinking Rose is not the place to take a first date if you are trying to impress. Did I mention that EVERYTHING HAS GARLIC?

So after the 100 garlic clove appetizer, the garlic and artichoke heart pasta, and the Broccoli with sauteed garlic, we were served breath mints and went for a walk along the Piers. San Francisco in the winter = Rain...but I don't care if my hair gets wet. Anthony is a musician, and plays several different instruments. Interesting guy, who is making a living off his talents (always an impressive thing in my eyes). We parted ways at the transit station where he told me he'd be seeing me again.

He is planning on seeing the show on Friday night along with most of the people from the artists commune. My mom has guaranteed to pack the house. God knows how many special brownies she's promised for this one. Hopefully they will all eat them before the show and I'll just seem funnier.

I get back to the house and there is a note on my bed with two sentences. "Well?" and "In case you need them." Under the note is two condoms. Thanks mom...but not on the first date...at least not this first date. I love you...but you are getting on my last queer nerve.

Waking up to reality

If anyone is wondering...I am ok...the earthquakes were far enough south that we just felt the shaking. Most people here don't even notice it. My thoughts to the families of those who lost someone on Monday though. Today...aftershocks here and there. Nothing as serious as the first quake though.

So last night I had dinner in Chinatown with one of my old childhood friends who is visiting his mom as well. I love going with Thien to Chinatown as he being of Chinese decent, we get better treatment (it's believed we are locals). Now the shop and restaurant owners all know that a majority of their income is from the tourists, but they get tired of selling "Americanized" Chinese food. They actually have a cooking school in Chinatown for new Chinese immigrants that will teach them how to cook Chinese food American style.

Now cultural differences make some dining experiences unpleasant, for instance, the minute we sat down and established that Thien speaks Chinese (although he wasn't raised traditional at all), they brought over a plate of fried chicken's feet. Tasty...as long as you don't look at what you are eating. Nothing goes to waste in real Chinese cooking (I've learned to eat noodle dishes for a reason...something about fish head soup is a bit much for me). Had a blast, drank way too much beer, and we grabbed a cab back to the house.

Back at my room, we sat up most of the night talking, reminiscing about Bruce (he was Thien's friend as well, and we both miss him dearly), talking about Thien's parents (both still married to each other after 45 years), and how his sister is now in medical school. Sometime around 1:30, I must have fell asleep. I woke up in the middle of the night and saw him sleeping next to me. I covered us both and just snuggled against him.

There is something about sleeping in someone else's arms, just feeling the heat generate off them, that can be so comforting. This is a man I can truly say I love. There are no sexual feelings between us (for one...he's straight), but we are close enough that people would mistake us for brothers (except that he is Chinese and I am wonderbread white).

As I woke up this morning, the sun was shining in my face, I rolled over, and my mother is sitting with a 55x70 canvas sketching out the two of us. She said it was just the cutest picture seeing the two of us sleeping, she had to sketch it. I've learned to just let her do it, as to put up with the whining is worse.

Watch...with my luck...I can see her selling it on E-bay next.

Shake rattle and roll

I fly to San Francisco, meet my newest father (who I'd date if he wasn't married to my mother) and feel the effects of an earthquake.

Why am I not surprised?

Entertaining Insecurity

Saturday night I faced one of my biggest demons, or at least I was prepared to (I'll admit...the quadruple dose of Paxil assisted in the anxiety department). Using every bit of self esteem I could muster, I prepared to see my former best friend Jeff at a party, where I would very likely have to say at least "hello". I'm not going to pour over all the details of how the friendship ended so badly again, I've already blogged it, but for those who really want to know...check out August 8th to the 14 and most of September.

The results of the evening....Jeff never showed up. I stressed for no reason...but I'm at least proud that I faced this, as just hearing about him over the past few months has felt like a knife to the chest.

Monkey pulled me aside to say she was sorry to hear about the demise of Jason. I'm not too sad though as he will make a great friend, and it was moving so quickly I knew it was doomed for the dating cemetery. He wasn't ready for anything serious having just ended a relationship a month ago and I can tell he is rebounding harder than a Slinky.

So seeing as I was a bit tense expecting Jeff to show up, I chose to stay a little off to the sidelines and watch the group of people interacting a bit. This was a musician party, where everyone either sang, or played an instrument, and while watching I found something a bit interesting. There are two different types of people that go into theater and performing. Those who seek the validation and approval of others, and those who don't need it. It comes with the level of confidence in one's own performance, as well as why one performs...for the art or for the applause.

One of the women that was singing that night had a very interesting personality, one where she had to be the center of attention. When others performed, she felt the need to sing along louder, and pretty much attempted to dominate the "Show", but when the focus switched off her, she would leave the room. It makes her seem to be very insecure in herself.

In comparison, another performer, Julie, never felt the need to take focus. She sang solo for the fun, and performed along with others. She performs because she likes the moment it allows her and I can tell that she sings alone because she enjoys it.

Where do I fall? Well without trying to sound smug...I tend to fall in the second category. Yes...I like applause, but I'm just as happy playing supporting roles that nobody really pays attention to. I've been performing professionally since I was 17 and I have never read a review once that has been written about me (Although some friends have tried to get me to read them). When I perform onstage, I usually will not ask my friends if they liked the show, but would rather just thank them for coming.

In my comedy gigs, I'm taking a group of people on a tour of my life (or in actuality...my stage life...some things are personal), and I try to make some solid points on that tour. "I may be gay...but my life can be just as boring as a straight person's", "it's ok to be alone", "my mother has created the need for therapy" and sometimes "exactly how does my ability to get married destroy the marriages of those currently married?" If people don't like the show...I'm ok with that. They still heard what I had to say and can process that as they wish.

So why am I saying this? I guess it's more just a rambling, as well as coming down from a Paxil high.

I'm setting my house on fire when I get home today

A cute poem that my office mate said to me. Thanks Katie!

Friends may come and friends may go
and friends may peter out you know
but I'll be your friend through thick and thin
peter out or peter in.

How I Lost my Dog at Christmas

I am a dog lover and always will be for a number of reasons. Besides the fact that dogs are more loyal than men, which is better than my recent romantic life (although dogs and men do have that humping problem), as a child growing up moving from house to house, my dog was the one best friend I had. I didn't make many friends at school (mainly because I wouldn't see them in 6 months anyway), but I could still go home to "Booger" daily. Yes...my dog's name was Booger. At least that is what I called her, and she didn't mind. I've always been a rebellious child (my mom would probably say "smart ass"), and my dad had named the dog "Tiffany" from the Benji movie (Did he secretly want me to be gay?), which I didn't care for. His second wife was the one who had decided on the name, which was exactly why I didn't like it. So I chose the one name that would be offensive enough that it couldn't be said in public. My birth-mother loved it!!! Freedom of expression, age of Aquarius, have another toke of the bong...

Booger finally died of old age while I was going to college. I had to put her down when she started growing some inoperable tumors.

I was dog free from then until my second year with John. One of the students that was working for me at Hocking College said she had an "itty bitty thing" that was still just a puppy that needed a home. I agreed to take her, without consulting John and his two cats. Mistake #1

We set out to pick up the itty bitty girl dog in our Geo Metro. When we arrived at the farm, we found an 85 lb black lab waiting for us. This dog took up the whole back seat and did nothing but lick our ears as we drove the 25 miles home. John was ticked off, and I was in heaven. I named her Ophelia (from Shakespeare's Hamlet) as she was a certifiable nut case. John's cats were terrorized for 5 days (and John was not pleased), before I noticed that Ophelia was gaining a lot of weight. Being the concerned father, I took her to the vet. Ophelia was knocked up and would be having pups any day. I decided it was in John's best interest to leave that a surprise for when he was better prepared. Mistake #2 Maybe not one of my smartest decisions as when Ophelia went into labor a few days later, she got into his closet and had her pups on his sweaters (Dry cleaning does not remove everything).

We were now the proud owners of 7 black labs. Imagine, 6 Lab puppies, 1 very protective mother dog (I was the only one allowed in the bedroom), two completely hairless cats (the stress was a bit much), a domestic partner who is smoking and drinking nightly to deal with this, and a comic with TONS OF MATERIAL!!! I decided we should keep all the puppies! Mistake #3

All of the dogs were very hyperactive but one male, whom John named Batman, was the leader of any wrong doing. Going through the trash? Batman did it. Eat daddy's shoes? Batman did it. Pee on the cat? Batman did it. And the other dogs learned by his example. His favorite game was fetch the kitty. That cat's were not willing participants, but they did learn if they just froze in fear...the dogs would get bored quickly. I don't think John's cat moved more than a foot during the waking hours. The cats only ate in the middle of the night when the dogs were asleep.

The worst part was that Batman...did not answer to the name Batman. You could scream it till you were blue in the face, give him food every time you said the name, and any other number of things and he just wouldn't listen (typical man). I made the mistake of calling him Pookie in fun. He answered to that. Two gay men with a black lab named Pookie? We "aren't typical homosexuals...we're stereotypical!!!" John finally laid down the law for Pookie when he started lifting his leg and marking his territory...in the house. The library books on the bookcase were not a pretty sight.

It wasn't until Christmas that Pookie crossed the line. John knows that I love decorating the house for Christmas, and he decided that he was going to decorate a tree for the holidays. Now this was a gift for me, as John is Jewish and doesn't even celebrate Christmas. He went out and bought a live tree, put it up and began one of the most meticulous decorating processes I have ever seen. He took postcards of movie stars and framed them (which he had been doing for nearly a year and hiding from me) and hung them on the tree . Then strung garland made from movie ticket stubs that he had made. He finished with a projector at the bottom, and a tub of popcorn at the top which overflowed popcorn strings. It took him three days to set it up. Pookie was intrigued. Pookie lifted his leg and marked the tree as his.

John had a minor (well maybe that is an understatement) fit and ran to stop him. He tripped and ended up tackling the tree, breaking most of the ornaments that he had made by hand, as well as one of his ribs. The dog thinking a game was on, jumped on top of him. The other 6 dogs joined in the "fun". Pookie was sent to the neighbor's farm the day after Christmas, and an artificial tree was put up (as well as a few ornaments I picked up at K-mart). John decided that the dog's name should have been Damnit. As in Come Here Damnit! Sit Damnit! and Damnit, get out of here!

The One Evil Word

....but...

One word to counteract the three I heard on Saturday. I swear I am the one date king! Is it me, or are the majority of men afraid of any kind of romantic involvement? In my experience lately, men truly are dogs...as at the mere mention of food or sex, they will follow you wherever. But try to get him to say "I feel _____" and fill in the blank. You can't even get some men to do that when they are dumping you. At this rate I need to start going to Vegas because my luck with cards has got to be fantastic right now. I've never even learned blackjack and I'm destined to make a killing.

I seriously am going to start dressing in camouflage, and lay down in the road in hopes that some attractive gay man falls on me. Maybe that will up my chances.
Until then, I am taking my friend Brian and Philip's advice. No men for 30 days. Ok....29 more days to go. Maybe Martin Luther King day will be adventurous! Next!

Say no more!

The flu has made it to Ohio!

How do I know? Call it the 104 fever I'm running, the diarrhea, or the muscle aches. Shit! So I didn't get anything done today! Well except for a little blogging. Hopefully I'll be alive tomorrow, but I could really use to just lay in someone's arms and sleep.

3 Great Words

I miss you...

It's amazing how hearing those three words spoken on the telephone can just improve a mood and make the day seem brighter.

Things to do this weekend:
Finish puting up the tree.
Paint the 11X17 glass for Michael
Paint the six ornaments as gifts
Clean the house
Finish Mt. Laundry
Christmas Party Saturday night
Finish the office in house (Begin converting 3rd bedroom into walk in closet)
Finish presents
Wrap presents
Drink vodka in mass quantities to forget how stressfull this weekend is already!
Aaaagggghhhh!!!

Self Confidence is Edging Away...

Ok...so the confidence level is a little low today. I'm not sure why it has hit me all of a sudden, but it hit me about an hour ago. Maybe the junk food filled afternoon, or this is just leftover depression from the depletion is still around (I was told it could happen).

So comedy wise...Confidence is fairly strong. I have another show booked for the 17th of January. This is for a private party, a 50th wedding anniversary. I'm looking for a monologue or something I can use, but will go with the standby material if I need to. I figure I'd like to finish with a song showing how the groom picked up the woman in the first place. Maybe "Honey Suckle Rose" from Ain't Misbehavin.

So the confidence level is on shaky ground in the romance department at this present moment. Romance life...well...I'm second guessing everything right now. Comes with being hurt, lied to, and used in the past. And I haven't always been the innocent party, but I try to keep my nose clean and treat others as I would want to be treated. Suddenly in the last 20 minutes...I've just had the confidence zapped from me...don't ask me why. I guess it's my own brain tricking myself, thinking the worst. And maybe that is it.

Example: Jason has gone to his family's home in Cincinnati (he left Monday) and was originally coming back today, but then decided to stay into next week as he is making money working for his sister. We've talked on the phone, thus how I know this. So the fatalist side of me says "what if he just didn't want to see me again but was too chicken shit to say anything"? It's only been a couple of dates, so it is possible. But my bigger question is where are these thoughts coming from?

In Brent's blog he mentioned that when his son's bus was late, he was assuming the worst. Now I know as a member of the police force, he has seen things I would never want to see, and it has to make him jaded. But everyone I know would think the same thoughts (myself included).

So the question. Why do "we" (in this case those of us who do) think the worst case scenarios? Is it self preservation, where if we can dream it up, and it happens, it won't hurt as badly? Or do we just do this to drive ourselves crazy, so when things go well, we are just extra happy?

T'was the night before Christmas - Old Santa was pissed.
He cussed out the elves and threw down his list.
Miserable little brats, ungrateful little jerks.
I have a good mind to scrap the whole works.
I've busted my ass for damn near a year.
Instead of "Thanks Santa" - what do I hear?
The old lady bitches cause I work late at night...
The elves want more money - The reindeer all fight.
Rudolph got drunk and goosed all the maids.
Donner is pregnant and Vixen has AIDS.
And just when I thought that things would get better,
Those assholes from IRS sent me a letter.
They say I owe taxes - if that ain't damn funny.
Who the hell ever sent Santa Claus any money?
And the kids these days - they all are the pits.
They want the impossible ...Those mean little sh*ts.
I spent a whole year making wagons and sleds,
Assembling dolls...Their arms, legs and heads,
I made a ton of yoyo's - No request for them...
They want computers and robots...they think I'm IBM.
Flying through the air...dodging the trees,
Falling down chimneys and skinning my knees.
I'm quitting this job...there's just no enjoyment.
I'll sit on my fat ass and draw unemployment.
There's no Christmas this year...now you know the reason...
I found me a blonde. I'm going SOUTH for the season

The Twelve Pains of Christmas

(Parody of 12 Days of Christmas)

The first thing at Christmas that's such a pain to me::finding a Christmas tree.

The second thing at Christmas that's such a pain to me:
Rigging up the lights
And finding a Christmas tree.

The third thing at Christmas that's such a pain to me:
Hang-overs
Rigging up the lights
And finding a Christmas tree.

The fourth thing at Christmas that's such a pain to me:
Sending Christmas cards
Hang-overs
Rigging up the lights
And finding a Christmas tree.

The fifth thing at Christmas that's such a pain to me:
five months of bills
sending Christmas cards
Hang-overs
Rigging up the lights
And finding a Christmas tree.

The sixth thing at Christmas that's such a pain to me:
facing my in-laws
five months of bills
oh I hate those Christmas cards
Hang-overs
Rigging up these lights
And finding a Christmas tree

The seventh thing at Christmas that's such a pain to me:
the Salvation Army
Facing my in-laws
Five months of bills
sending Christmas cards
Oh Geez
I'm trying to rig up these lights
And finding a Christmas Tree

The eighth thing at Christmas that's such a pain to me:
I want a Transformer for Christmas
Charities and what do you me:an your in-laws
Five months of bills
Oh making out these cards
Edith get me: a beer huh?
What we have no extension cards
And finding a Christmas Tree

The ninth thing at Christmas that's such a pain to me:
Finding parking spaces
Daddy I want some candy
Donations
Facing my in-laws
Five months of bills
Writing out those Christmas cards
Hang-overs
Now why they Hell are they blinking
And finding a Christmas Tree

The tenth thing at Christmas that's such a pain to me:
Batteries not included
No parking spaces
Buy me something
Get a job you bum
Facing my in-laws
Five months of bills.
Yo-Ho sending those Christmas cards
Ah geez look at this
One light goes out they all go out
And finding a Christmas tree

The eleventh thing at Christmas that's such a pain to me:
Stale TV Specials
Batteries not included
No parking spaces
I got to go to the bathroom
Charities
She's a witch I hate her
Five months of bills
I don't even know half these people
Who's got the toilet paper huh?
Turn on the flashlight I blew a fuse
And finding a Christmas tree

The twelfth thing at Christmas that's such a pain to me:
Singing Christmas carols
Stale TV specials
Batteries not included
No parking
aghhh
Charities
Got to make 'em dinner
Five months of bills
I'm not sending them this year. that's it
Shut up, you
Fine you're so smart you rig up the lights
And finding a Christmas tree


ok...so I did the second day of depletions of my serotonin. Was this day the placebo...I can't say for sure, but I felt really depressed by the end of the day, had a hard time remembering things (I had to search the parking lot for the car) and was close to being a basket case. Not to mention I could barely keep awake. Dove into a container of ice cream and things were looking better by midnight. Three months and I do it all again! JOY!

So I am in the process of putting up the Christmas tree. This is the first year I am doing this myself and it really sucks (I didn't put one up last year). My house is in shambles with decorations everywhere. How do you people do this and still maintain working lives. Mary Lou....I'd kill for the stress free holiday season so enjoy it. As for all you working mom's and dads, who bake, decorate, write out christmas cards, and get all the shopping done before the 25th...screw all of you and your organizational skills! (color me bitter? ;-) ). I'll be lucky if the tree is completed by the 25th! I'm giving coupons for gifts and celebrating Serbian Christmas (which happens sometime the first week of January).

Priceless!

Random Thoughts on a Monday Afternoon

So I am thinking of something that happened when I was with someone in the past (not the recent past....think last 6 months). Miguel (I'll use that name as I don't know any Miguel) had come over for dinner and to watch a little TV. Well one bottle of wine leads to us getting a little closer, and suddenly we are kissing. Now we are keeping this fairly innocent (although a bit of wanderings have begun) when he stops, and turns out the light. Now my place is fairly big, and when the shades are drawn, turning out a light makes the place pitch black. It made me wonder a bit. "Is he turning out the light because he is turned off by how I look?" "Does he have to pretend I am someone else?" "Is he so self conscious of how he looks that he doesn't want me to see him?"

So it gets me thinking of my own preferences. I like being intimate in the light. Now that doesn't mean having spotlights beaming down on us like we are on a stage. Romantic lighting is nice. I want to see my partner's face, watch the look on his face as I give him pleasure. Tease him and pleasure him so much that when I'm through he's apt to give a standing ovation...provided he has his breath back ;-) I know...too much information.

So the question is...how common is it for people to want to be intimate in near total darkness?

Who's the Volleyball King?

Ahh...volleyball. I went to watch Jason play (not to mention keep him company since he doesn't know any of the people on the team). Strange how he made such an impression on my friends that they asked him to play...can you say charismatic?

I get to the courts where they are playing the game. Jason is there...looking very cute I might say, and low and behold, I get recruited as they don't have enough players. So there I am in jeans and a t-shirt playing volley ball. This is the second time in my life that I have ever played volleyball. I know I suck at the game. I also didn't want Jason to see the competitive sports side of me yet (I can be a bit over competitive at times), but I figured...why not...it'll be fun to play at least.

Most of the team players are not out to win, but one guy was really critical of Jason and me. I sat back and wondered who would be the first to tell him off. Jason won and said, "Sugar...I don't need you to tell me how to play every play, and if you continue, you are going to have to kiss my ass" I think I like him even more now. He did apologize for being a bit catty, but the point was made.

So who's your volleyball daddy? Me...that's who! Took me five games to figure out how to play but the last game, I ROCKED! I served on the final point and scored the win for the game. Oh mommy, oh daddy, I am a big old baddie!

Post game, Jason was going to see Angels in America at his classmates house. He knows that this play means a lot to me, so he asked the host if I could come to watch it, and unfortunately...they said no. Strictly classmates only, and so therefore, I don't get to see it. That he asked if I could go, meant a lot to me. Angels in America (parts 1 and 2) was the biggest challenge I had ever taken on as an actor. I still don't know what Joe (the director) saw in me, and I never actually expected to get cast, but it was the best 18 months of my life. Touring the country and performing that show, seeing how audiences react to the show. I learned more about my own life and abilities, and it's the only show my grandmother has ever seen me perform in.

So I am putting up the Christmas tree today. Why is it that the tree is so much work. It almost isn't enjoyable. I think I'd enjoy this much more if I had someone helping me with this. I went to Michael's craft store looking for a wreath for the door. $80 bucks. ARE YOU FREAKING INSANE?!?!?!?!? So I bought a plain wreath, a bow, and a bunch a foo foo crap and put it all together and have a fairly decent wreath. Total cost...$28. We'll call it my homo genes kicking in.

Jason is going to Cincinnati tomorrow morning and wont be back until Thursday. Sigh...this is good. It slows things down a bit, and levels out this roller coaster ride. He asked that I email him over the next couple of days, and he said he'll call me.

I shall see... I will say...he is an EXCELLENT KISSER! :-)

Riding the Roller coaster

So it's official...I am on a very steep roller coaster and I am feeling a little scared. Well maybe a lot scared. Went out on a fist date with Jason, and he agreed to go to a candlelight party, that a friend was holding. First date? At a party with a large group of my friends? I'm not sure I know what I was thinking, but it did go well. After the party, we went to dinner and then to watch a movie.

Jason was well...utterly charming to my friends, and they all responded very well to him. So why am I nervous? I've realized I'm not in line for the roller coaster, but I'm already riding the mother of all rides and this is a pretty fast one! We are moving a bit fast, and it concerns me. I don't want to get hurt again (summer was tough). So we are going to have to slow it down just a little. At least to let me catch my breath. So tonight, we aren't seeing each other, but we are going to see each other tomorrow during the volleyball game.

I do have one thing that is making me nervous, and this is a pretty big thing for me. Stephanie really liked Jason (and I think I do too), so she asked me if she could invite him to her holiday party. I said yes. Now I wish I hadn't. This is just so stupid and at the same time...it's freaking me out anyway. Todd and Jeff will be at this party. If it was just Todd at this party, I wouldn't have a problem. Todd and Jason and I have a lot in common, and I easily could see us all being friends. That being said...I can't forgive Jeff for ending our friendship once he met Todd, and I know that I can't be in any way a part of Todd's life, as that means being involved in Jeff's as well. I've told Jason about Jeff and how much he hurt me, but I'm not one to say "you can't be friends with a particular person." I'm just so apprehensive about this situation. I can feel my stress level climbing very quickly.

Good thing Jason is a massage therapist, because I have a feeling I'm going to need him to help me relax.

Getting Blown Vs. Getting Blown Off

So the weather outside is frightful, but inside it's so delightful! And since I've got no place to go...I'll be a ho, be a ho, be a ho! Got 5+ inches last night. Snow that is. ok...for some reason I'm in a flirty mood. Well...I know why...;-)

Car called me last night and left a message that really kind of moved me. He had read my blog and just wanted to tell me that he was touched by it. I re-read some of the things I wrote, and I don't really think I've said how much he means to me. This man has come so far in his life, and has earned so much of my respect. He's gone through some of the same crap I have, and has helped guide me in ways I don't think I can really describe. He's gotten me to understand that some things really are "not my problem" and it has helped immensely. I've been one in the past who has been really independent, and I've learned the value of a mentor. And it is a two way street, as he faces issues in his life that I've faced before. All I can say for sure is that my life has been much richer this past year knowing him. I've told him things about myself that I don't tell others, and he takes it in without judgment. I have therapists I wouldn't tell things to that I've told him. Nuff sappy stuff. On to better and brighter things!

Peter text messaged me. He won't be visiting. I can take a hint. He's got his issues, I've got mine, two ships passing in the night...blah, blah, blah...I'm tired of riding the merry go round...I'm getting off and going to the roller coaster. Next in line please! I can't get too bummed out, as he has got his own agendas and if I don't fit into that, I'm not going to wait around.

So I had someone ask me out yesterday and we had a really nice date. No conversation lag, no awkward moments, and at least he lives in the area (only a few blocks from where I live). He's an actor, who is enrolled in the MFA program at Case Western Reserve University. An actor and a comic? He can cry during a scene and I can make fun of him. Works perfect. Neither of us will pay the rent, but we will both be able to throw the most fantastic parties. He's a bit intense, but then so am I...so I'm matching him there. I think I'm just going to enjoy this and wherever it goes it goes. I know I would want him as a friend, and if it goes to more...I'm in for a serious roller coaster ride with this guy.

Wednesday's Plummet into Depression

4:00 am: Wake up, unable to sleep, as I was having bad dreams about doing this medical study. I tried to get back to sleep but with no success. I have really got to be crazy for doing this, but I need the health insurance and this will cover it.

8:00 am: I arrive at Rainbow Babies and Children's Hospital. Running a little late, I wanted to get here before 8:00. I find it ironic that they have the clinical research center on the top floor of a children's hospital. Like if they don't have enough test subjects, they can always experiment on the children. "Oh you child is born premature? Would you like to participate in a bronchial scraping study to help pay off those medical bills we are charging you? We pay $175 a scrape" I'm only partly joking about this as they are doing this to the guy in the next room right now. They are going to numb this poor guy's throat, then put a tube into his bronchial passage. Spray a saline solution and then pull the tube out scraping the bronchial walls. The guy gets money and the research clinic gets bronchial cells they can infect with Tuberculosis in hopes of finding better cures to help people infected with HIV. Hmmm...$175 + $200= $375. That's nearly 1/2 a couch. No...I'm not doing it. So I am in a typical hospital room. The ward is on lockdown, and I am not allowed to leave the floor without supervision. I guess they are afraid I will go and get a Big Mac or something. I understand I have to fast, but I feel a little like a criminal right now.

9:00 am: I am given the drugs that will lower my serotonin. At least that is the plan. Since this is a double blind, the drug given today may just be a placebo and I will get the real thing next week Still...I had to take 24 pills and this God awful tasting chocolate shake. They were a little surprised that I downed the shake in one take. I looked the nurse in the eye and just said "I've swallowed worse tasting fluids". She giggled uncomfortably and I can carry that with me for a while. Maybe I'll queen out by the end of the day.

10:00 am: Peter has text messaged me twice in the last hour! * giggle*. Which is helping pass the time. The nurse being a godsend is going to see if they can activate the data line so I can actually get online. Then I can play some music or maybe read the news. So far, no real side effects of the pills except that I am major sleepy. Of course, that could be from waking up at 4am. 6 more hours till I can have food. My blood has been taken twice today. Only 6 more times for that as well.

11:30 am: If the drugs don't make me crazy the boredom will. I'm seriously barely able to keep awake, although nurse Hatchet is more that willing to keep me awake with her continuous chatter. With my luck, today is the placebo and I'm creating this sleepiness all on my own.

12:30 pm: Sleepiness is gone. I have played a full hour of Free Cell and won nearly every game. Now I know I am supposed to be reflecting on my life while I am on this drug, but I really don't feel like dealing with my life right this very moment. Failed relationships, sex drive of a porn star, and a majority of friends who are scattered across the country. I'm supposed to be seeing the doctor today and we discuss how I feel. I feel poor, give me the damn $200 bucks for wasting my time in psychiatric lock down while you deplete my brain of serotonin.

1:25 pm: I finally get internet access. So if I get too bored, I can look at porn on the net and try to email some friends.

3:30 pm: I have poked, prodded, stuck with needles and probed enough that I don't know if I'm an abductee on an alien ship or if I am actually in a hospital. The staff are not allowed to talk to me, as they can't influence my mood. I hate to tell you this, but not talking to me influences my mood. I keep having to fill out these forms thoughout the day. One of them is asking me about my sex drive. What the hell...I'm in a hospital and haven't seen anyone for the majority of the day....of course I want it. Doesn't everybody? 1/2 hour till I get to eat.

My Newest Role: Guinea Pig

So I'm sitting here at work, trying to finish all the things I need to finish for the next two days as I won't be able to go to work tomorrow. Since I don't have health insurance, in order to get basic medical treatment, I had to sign up for a medical study. This study checks to see how Seretonin effects mood levels. So beginning tonight at midnight, I am not allowed to eat anything. Then beginning at 7:00 am, I have to take these medications which will deplete the seretonin levels. Then I get asked thoughout the day, "how are you feeling". So I asked if I could go to work while this depletion is going on. No. From what I gather, they will put me on a suicide watch "just in case". So what do I get out of this besides free healthcare? $200 (which is 1/3 the cost of a couch). I got to be crazy. I think I may need to move to Canada.

I'm going to bring my computer tomorrow in the study and see If they will let me write. If so, I'd like to see how depressed my writing can get with a low seretonin level. Might as well have fun while doing this. Right?

Went to see Gothika and it really wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be. It only had one loose end that wasn't explained very well. For those of you who have seen it, did you notice that they never explained how she gets off the murder charges? What is that all about? How?

Life as a Red Ribbon

So today is World AIDS day...but I find this to be problematic. Yes...I've lost way too many friends (I've been to over 100 funerals), but why is it that we have only one day a year. HIV diagnosis' are up among all groups (both heterosexual and homosexual). The NIH says it is becuase of condom burnout. I remember when the campaign was to eroticize the condom. So why are people not using them again?

I'm not sure. My rule has always been to have safe sex, regardless as to how monogamous we are (people make mistakes, and I don't want to be a casualty of a mistake), and if a partner can't adhere to that rule, he can hit the road. I've worked too hard all my life to thow it away on sexual liaison. But I've known guys that have unsafe sex (not intimately) and it concerns me. What is it that they are missing that they have to do things unprotected?

Just a thought for a Monday evening...