....Sundays have always been the hardest. Through the ups and downs of my time with Lucky, it was on Sundays that I would miss him most. Today no exception. I find ways to busy myself and stem off the creeping emotion looking to make itself known. I sit at a coffee house and read, I tease my monkey, I clean out the garage, I run to Target to buy things to organize the minimal disarray. Sometimes you come across something and no matter how good you're doing - at least for a tic, a sec, a moment -you feel him again - kissing your cheek, patting your ass, watching you stare off in to space. I found the 1 year warranty I bought for the "all-in-one" fax/copy/scanner I gave him at Christmas - forward it to his roomate I suppose. I find a folder with Baby's veternarian receipts, information on puppy pre-school, and a hand-drawn note to Lucky in yellows, pinks and greens saying 'Happy 1 Week Anniversary Daddy - Luv Baby'...it makes me pause, reflect and I feel a small ripping in my heart.

I start projects, water the plants and prepare to hit the gym. There will be beers later with H. and C. and D. - I'm building fences - using friends. I let the handsome, human fence surround me at bars and feel safer behind it - looking outwards. I smile, I laugh, I joke...yet behind my eyes there's been a bit of a vacancy for weeks now. In the cocky swagger there's a suggestion of 'maybe', but more often 'off-limits' or 'danger - construction site'. I went to dinner and for drinks (far, far to many drinks) with the charming, vunerable, J the EE (formerly known as 'BN1") last night, and as the smoothness of his vodka tonics took hold of him I could see despite my distance - he's slipped to far. He's fallen. He references a new found belief in love or finding that Mr Right - he knows his comments must appear indirect to not scare me. Saddened, I'm really gonna hurt this one aren't I? I pound through the libation medication and wonder what the other side of this really looks like. Handsome, gentle, Maestro (formerly known as 'BN3') will be leaving for Chicago soon for 8 weeks. He's made it clear he hopes for visits, he asks for nothing when he tells me he misses me when I'm not there. He seems used to my controlled silence, my smile, my body. In both their eyes I see them studying, seeking clues and I wonder how much I give up without knowing it. They know there are others, they know not to expect the daily call - and they feel his presence too, still lingering beyond my shoulder.

uh, yeah - well like to quote Madonna:


You think that I can't live without your love,
you'll see.
You think I can't go on another day
You think I have nothing
without you by my side.
You'll see, some-how, some way.

You think that I can never laugh again,
You'll see.
You think that you've destroyed my faith in love.
You think after all you've done,
I'll never find my way back home.
You'll see, some-how, some-day.

First Chorus:

All by myself,
I don't need anyone at all.
I know I'll survive,
I know I'll stay alive.
All on my own,
I don't need anyone this time.
It will be mine,
No one can take it from me.
You'll see

You think that you are strong but you are weak,
You'll see.
It takes more strength to cry,
Admit defeat.
I have truth on my side,
You only have deceit.
You'll see, some-how, some-day.

RideMeCowboy

Maybe it's just me - but why is it every time I heard a newscaster gleefully describe the proposed "dramatic" entrance of our President onto the aircraft carrier the US Abraham Lincoln (or something of the such) - flying in on a four-seater jet-fighter (How Cowboy!) before he declares his victory speech over Iraq (oh - but he won't use the word "Victory", probably because they NEVER turned up any of those pesky WOMD they were fighting over in the first place) - I think of that scene from Stanley Kubrick's - Dr. Strangelove, Or: How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love The Bomb (1964) where Major Kong rides the dislodged "Hi There!" bomb (quite phallic) rodeo style - screaming "Yahoo! Yahoo!" towards it's detonation target.

"Yahoo" anyone ??

...weird to read your own words - and think "I've been here before"

Trading emails with my much-loved and adored Donald (remember her - she's a high-class ho in Jersey City now - who knew !!) and I kinda breathed some life into something I've been thinking about of late. I'm not sure how I feel about my blog anymore. As I close in on two years - I find that the past two months my writing has been - controlled. Let's face it - I can stand to rip open my heart and lap at the wounds in front of a million strangers - but one ex-boyfriend and I've gone benign. I'm not saying I'm dropping out, I'm not saying much of anything - i'm thinking on paper (or a blinking white screen). I've closed my heart and mind to Lucky - and for him to have a way in, a way to know my inner thoughts, my grief, my hopes, my new experiences isn't fair. I remember when I had him read the incredibly painful story of being raped when I was 16. He sat there and then changed the subject. No comment nothing. I had just shared for the first time with any boyfriend the reason I flinch when he tries to force it in me, the cause of my inflated machoism, the most humiliating moment of my life - and with tears framing my eyes - he stares at me in silence. I don't want him to share any more of my life. It's our relationship all over again - one-sided. He gets to know me on the deepest level possible and I get a one-dimensional, self-involved, curiousity seeker. (I guess if your reading this - you deserved the comment, so sorry - but it's how I feel). So what do I do? I've told some amazingly raw stories on here and it's not a complete picture. I'm a living, breathing, ever-evolving, ever-feeling beast. But I don't think I can breathe my words on to this page anymore, it feels more exposed than ever - and even I choose to draw a line somewhere.

...so there you were.

Hadn't I just been bopping along to Groove Armada's "The Groove is On" seconds before - feeling really good about my work-out, chatting with cute boys, feeling like the old me - I wonder if you had been watching me just seconds before. Certainly T. had told you I was there. What were you thinking when your eyes fell on me and watched me oblivious to your glare. Did you have the rush of emotions I did - did your head scream and your heart beg to look away. My pulse raced and veered out of control.

The day you left with our dog was the last time I saw you.

I wasn't ready - but then maybe I was. Did you notice I shaved the beard? Your buff - you juicing? Do you know about the 4 way - R. had to go running and tell you about it didn't he? Do you still find me handsome? Whose keeping your sheets warm now? Do you hurt? Does it fucking hurt ?

Maybe I was ready - but then maybe I wasn't.

What Rocks? Sitting literally like six feet from lovely Annie Lennox as she belts out beautiful song after song tonight.

What DOESN'T Rock ? Losing my goddamn keys in the parking lot sometime before or after the concert. . Having to break in to my house by breaking a window, cutting through a screen then crawling through said broken window and screen....and realizing once I was in my house, how fucking easy it was and that the neighbors didn't even stir.

I'm getting an alarm, and I'm never letting my keys out of my sight again.

eh - the picture sucked - so I pulled it - but needless to say the beard is gone.

Cute Parental Unit Moment #257:

(Discussing with my Pop why I was in Palm Springs for the weekend)

Me: "It's called the White Party - I've gone the last four years - I know I've told you about it?"
Dad: "Yeah - but why do they call it the White Party?"

Me: "Because you have to wear white"
Dad: "Have to...everyone?"

Me: "Well yeah - I mean they won't arrest you if you don't"
Dad: "Well what will they call it next year then?"

Me: "uh, Dad - they'll still call it the White Party"
Dad: "Their making you wear white again next year?"

...sometime this weekend - lost in a delightful fugue brought on by multiple players from the alphabet - dancing in a bank of dance floor fog to Phil B or Tracy Young or Manny Lehman - I felt this sensation: togetherness.

I realized that, the moment I like myself best and see myself for who I really am and the possibility to be - is when I'm with friends (new and old).

I don't want to date anyone right now. Not BN1 or BN2 or BN3 or any other BN_ that might come along. I'm not ready. I don't want to share my deepest thoughts. I don't want another guy to make up cute nicknames for me, I don't want to wake up next to anyone - not yet. I've started distancing myself from the bachelors. I don't want to be cruel, I don't want to hurt anyone - but this isn't about them - it's about me (I've spent enough of my life worrying about hurting others).

Today is two months. Two months since I officially closed the door with Lucky. I don't regret it. It hurts. More than I ever really write about here. I miss him - but I think I miss more the idea of him, or the memories of him with me that make me smile. I'm not ready to love someone else. But with friends - you can shower them with all that love, laughter and adoration that used to belong to your ex. I started booking trips last night - more efforts to connect with my closet friends. I'll be in San Diego in 2 weeks, Long Beach the weekend after that and Los Angeles sometime in June.

Without my boyfriend and my dog I became ungrounded.

I want to love something, I want to laugh with someone, I want to build memories with someone...

...but I think they call that person a friend,

or even better, let's call that person - me.

there was dancing.
there was hot sex.
there were crushes.
and kissing boys.
there was laughing and napping and cuddling.
I got to know old friends even better. I made new friends I already treasure.
I met a sweet blond reader (sorry I was so spacey - uh, go figure)

...and for the first time ever, I drove home from White Party alone - just me, my music, my memories.

wiped. a little emotional. and needing a shower.

wonderful.wonderful.wonderful.fun.

i think i realized this weekend that I really like myself, and maybe started seeing what others see in me.

bags packed.
cooler stuffed.
workouts done.
party supplies received.

I'm happily speeding my shiny black car towards an epiphany
or two.

it pays to get connected. went to ACME with P. so she could hook up with the sexy bartender T. - he in turn introduced me to the tatto artist who did most of the tat's for Linkin Park...I'll be having a consultation with him next week to take my current tat to "extreme bad boy tat levels"

oh and BTW - I donated my hard-earned moola to these fine people yesterday, did you ?

...and so it begins - or began last night. I began the final round of shopping for white clothes, swimsuits, shorts and anything that would get me laid this weekend in Palm Springs (White Party 2003) - ok I was kidding about the last part - no, you weren't - yes, I was - no, weren't ....uh, nevermind.


...considering how little I worked out during the house guest - I'm looking "ok". Not Titan Media Porn Star "Hot" like I originally hoped and planned, but I still have three more work outs to get in and a couple of outfits that have a little vroooooom


Had dinner and went shopping with BN1 last night - he really is just the greatest guy - literally acted like watching me try on swimsuits and shorts was fun and kept running to get me varying sizes and cuts. This has to put me pretty low on the masculinity scale saying this - but really - a good man is one you can take shopping. end of really gay moment.


BN3 is the first "giver of the card". Drove cross town to leave a card on my door for when I got home from work with lots of sexy and sweet shit written in it. Subsequently he's the one who has been given sleep over status - twice.


Kinda blew of any efforts to pursue anything with BN4 & BN5, it's all getting kinda tricky and draining - if there's meant to be another "bachelor" in the mix it'll work out that way without my effort.


So anyway - no posts after tomorrow. Have a great week and if I'm seeing ya in Palm Springs make sure to say startle me and say "Hi HCL" - you'll freak me out at first, but I'll get used to it

...it's there. somewhere in the back of my mind. usually when I'm at my most tired - not sleepy tired - "run-around" tired. those times when you feel like you've been just running for weeks and weekends on end. dates. dinners. movies. partying. things to do, so much to do. suddenly you catch a glimpse of your reflection in a big store window and when you see yourself - you think "what is he running from?"

but then you know. he's running from you. he's being running from you since the day those words fell from his lips and the door between you was closed. when I'm really tired - like this - it's the only time you get back in. a memory of laughing together at something. of 'pillow talk'. of holding your hand. and for that moment I let go of the hatred and a sadness takes place as I miss you. miss being known by you.

i had my first 'sleep-over' - it wasn't planned or organized - it just kinda went that way. and it was nice and odd at the same time. how perfect to have the first sleep-over not even be in my bed - but me and he in the spare room on an air-matress, while the house guest slept peacefully in my bed. the bed you once shared with me. when i rolled over in to him and pulled him closer - he slept softly. larger, stronger - it seemed odd. he could protect himself. my arms around him were merely comforting. we would misunderstand each others movements, yet then fall in to step - waking, then kissing the others rising back or resting forehead - then falling back asleep.

and when the sun asked not to be ignored and fell more abundantly from around the window shades - he and I woke to each other. and you in that moment weren't there.

...it's never short of um - well something - here these days.

• The funeral was amazing - AMAZING - I only teared up towards the end - but my lovely girls flanking my sides cried all the way thru. Literally the church was full to the hilt of amazing people. 200 - maybe 250. This guy was so loved. M.'s eulogy was the most amazingly human thing I have heard spoken in a long time. Can a person get "funeral envy"?
  
• The house guest and I have been having the craziest fun - how have I managed to dress my self each day when I could have a girl to discuss each selection with me and insist on viewing 20 to 100 choices.
  
• BN1 seems to have found out about BN3. Not sure whats up with the mojo - but last night at Amsterdams - a BN4 and BN5 contestant reered their beautiful heads and seriously, drop-dead sexy bodies. One given a kiss. One given a number.
  
• Looking forward to a little down time after this weekend, but considering I'm in Palm Springs from Friday to Monday - not sure I'll be getting that.

AGENDA:

• Pick up the "El Train" at the airport.
  
• Lunch with the "ladies that lunch" at Arcadia Farms
  
• Maragarita's at Dos Gringos
  
• Boyz at BS
  
• Day-o-Shopping - Kierland, Fashion Square, Biltmore (mental note: MUST buy a frigging bathing suit)
  
• Dinner at AZ88, drinks at Merc - meet up with BN1
  
• Funeral - is my suit clean, what tie?
  
• Memorial Service
  
• Wine at Il Postino
  
• Dinner at Elements at the Sanctuary
  
• Breakfast at Orange Market Grocery
  
• Day-o-Beauty - Spa Day at Phoenician
  
• Dinner at Bar Mouche - meet up with BN2
  
• Sunday (all day) Sedona - rich hippies and soul stuff.
  
• Monday AM (friggin early) - the El Train departs.

...went out with BN3 last night. I gotta admit my heart was racing the entire time, and when he kissed me - in my car - after a very flirtatious and enjoyable dinner - my heart stopped. I'm not saying anything - but I'm saying - I hadn't felt a surge of energy like that since my first kiss with Lucky. I'm feeling lust - bad. I'm not looking to be boyfriends with anyone - put if I'm gonna finally put out - this is where I want to start.

I put the ball in his court - "Ask me out if you'd like to see me again?" - his response:

"May I ask you right now?"

I'm having dinner with him tonight.

maybe I can find time to let go of some of this
...so it is
maybe I can see a way to have more love for myself
...so it is
maybe I can leave this hate behind that's seeping down in to my soul
...so it is
maybe I can love myself alone, more then I could ever need another to do it for me
...so it is
maybe my tomorrows are more beautiful than my yesterdays
...so it is
I just have to agree to let go - breathe - let go - breathe - let go
...so it is

(random thoughts from my raki massage yesterday)

Proof that I don't just live in a tight t-shirt and jeans - the civilized me

  

BN#3 called.

Ok - I lied about there not being a Bachelor #3 - I gave a guy my phone number last night - and I really, really, really want him to call. This one I would have to fight (against myself) tooth and nail not to put out for.

Bachelor #2 is history, so really that's just a manageable two anyway, right?

Sucked it up last night and went out to places that have a high probablity of running into the "X". I didn't and had alot of fun and alot of attention (INSERT HERE: New Meat) to boot. Going to see "Dirty Blonde" at Gammage tonight and then have to start getting ready for my Serbian Mistress houseguest.

Good times to all this weekend.

Ok - I swear (fingers crossed behind back) that I'll stop putting mopey lyrics up.

What Was It Like
(Mary Chapin Carpenter/Gary Burr)

What was it like
How did it feel
It's so hard to tell if it was real
I know I was there but with every day
It slips away
And I feel like a passing glance that you never gave a chance
Baby that's not right
What was it like

What did you say
What did I hear
When did it start to disappear
I know you were there
You know that too
What did we do
'Cause I feel like a big mistake that you managed to not quite make
And just walk away
What did you say

Guess I've waited long enough hoping it might be something
Other than what it was

You took something that felt so good
And crushed it because you could
One summer night
What was it like
What was it like
What was it like

So I was working as a waitress in a cocktail bar - that much is true...
but then I met Donald and that was when, that was when I knew.
Don't you leave me ba-by, don't you leave me o-e-ooooooooooo.

As I stand here in my faded, cut-off ,Jacklyn Smith, daisy dukes and orange sherbet polka-dot (you called them "Poke-My-Dots" to be cute) halter-top cradling our 6 month year old daughter "Jeremiah Sissy Johnson" in my arms (barely covering the needle tracks and bruises) - I beg - NO I PLEAD! - dont you leave me and our baby this way!
I haven't even had a chance to NAIR my legs !!

Could I have done something different - perhaps one of those unusual foreign positions from that Kami Slutra book you kept hidden between the "Sleep-n-Easy" matress ?

Perhaps rubbed your size 12 feet without making those funny faces because of the smell ?

Maybe if I had made more money on the streets for you while you slaved at home coming up with the next revolutionary, entrepreneurial idea for a pyramid scheme actually made out of "pyramids".

Damn, Damn, Damn - I curse this ugly day - I curse it to Arkansas and back.

Anyone got a cig ? Here be a love - hold my baby.

uh - whats up with BLOGGER FTP taking like a GAZILLION minutes to update ??? (oh - hold it - you won't be able to tell me until a gazillion plus one minutes after I posted this - sorry)

Simple Life
(Mary Chapin Carpenter)

You're making lists today of all the things you haven't done yet
You're driving everyone crazy, are you having any fun yet
Mother says you oughta get married
Shrink says here's a little blue pill
Too young for your mid-life crisis
Mirror says you're over the hill

There's nothing wrong with you
The simple life gets complicated
There's nothing you can do, just enjoy the view be glad you made it

You're making resolutions and it isn't even New Year's
You could try a new religion, you could wait until the dust clears
Friends say you're way too choosy
Shrink says see you next week
Guru says control your breathing
You're afraid you might have peaked

There's nothing wrong with you
The simple life gets complicated
There's nothing you can do, just enjoy the view be glad you made it

Cuz things could be better, cuz things could be worse
Cuz life can be charmed and cursed
There's fast, slow and stall, no reverse

There's nothing wrong with you
The simple life gets complicated
There's nothing you can do, just enjoy the view be glad you made it

There's nothing wrong with you
The simple life gets complicated
There's nothing you can do, just enjoy the view be glad you made it

A List of Likelihoods (or "Chances in Hell")

The likelihood that the author of this list is avoiding writing anything of subsequent depth or revelation: 99%

The likelihood that (a) said authors ex-boyfriend reads this said blog - thus (b) inspiring the first bullet point: (a) 65%, (b) 89%

The likelihood that I will feel like being friends with said ex-boyfriend in the coming months: 0%

The likelihood that I will ever be friends with said ex-boyfriend again: 25%

The likelihood that I will have a new boyfriend before the end of 2003: 84%

The likelihood that that boyfriend "will be the one": 18%

The likelihood that having a new boyfriend again in the coming year is a good idea: 26%

The likelihood that having a new boyfriend again in the coming year is a bad idea: Uh, just subtract 100 from the above

The likelihood I will finally have sex this month: 87%, er, uh - Palm Springs - White Party - nuf said.

The likelihood that I will give up booze or drugs in the next three months: 2%

The likelihood that I will give up booze or drugs in the next three years: 82%

The likelihood that we will be out of Irag before Memorial Day: 11%

The likelihood that Jerry Bruckheimer will ever produce a sensitive man's movie: 0%

The likelihood that Paul T Anderson will make at least 4 more: 97%

The likelihood that country music was invented for listening to while drinking or during painful break-ups, but more likely both: 100%

The likelihood that half of my readers have never even given country music a chance and dismissed it's effort entirely: 52%

The likelihood the reason I appreciate country music is because I grew up in Arizona: 67%

The likelihood that this little stream-of-conciousness ramble has lead you to believe I only listen to country music: 76%

The likelihood of me being found listening to country music: 19%

The likelihood of me getting another dog: 100%

The likelihood that will ever heal my heart over losing Baby: 3%

The likelihood of feeling waves of hatred for my ex concurrent to the absence of Baby in my life: 98%

The likelihood of feeling waves of hatred for my ex concurrent with my thoughts of his absence in my life: 52%

The chance in hell that I will stop torturing people with lists: 0%

:: Rollercoaster by EBTG (Album: Amplified Heart) ::

I still haven't got over it even now.
I want to spend huge amounts of time on my own.
I don't want to cause any serious damage.
I want to make sure that I can manage,
because I'm not really in your head,
I'm not really in your head.

And I see love and disaffection
and the clouds build up and won't pass over.
This is my road to my redemption.
And my life is just an image of a rollercoaster anyway.

I still haven't got over it even now.
I want to spend huge amounds of time in my room.
And I'm not coming out until I feel ready,
not running out for a while my heart's unsteady,
and I'm not really in your head.
I'm not really in your head.

When you sky falls to minus zero,
well some things must dissappear.
Oh this is my road to my redemption.


And my life is just an image of a rollercoaster anyway.
The names may have been changed but the faces are the same
The names may have been changed but as people we're not the same.

And I'm not, no I'm not, no I'm not
really in your head.

And my life is just an image of a rollercoaster anyway.
Yeah, my life is just an image of a rollercoaster anyway.

so it's like some cruel trip. I'm not stupid - I'm barely 4 weeks out of a three and half-year relationship and bachelor #1 is seducing me better then any man has in a long time. Points of evidence in his favor. A week and half ago I invited him over and made him dinner ( oh yeah - I can cook too), well mistakenly he left a wine glass by his chair in my TV room (which I subsequently dropkicked into my fireplace later that night after he left) - well when he showed up tonight he had purchased me 4 new wine glasses to apologize for his transgression. I swooned. Well actually I never swoon, I accepted them like it was nothing - but on the inside - I was like "OH MY FUCKING GOD !" - how could he be so sweet - so considerate. The only thing that made it better was that I had bought him card - a non-romatic, funny, "it's really cool to hang out with you because your a cool guy card". I thought about letting him spend the night and then I got a grip on my colder side and kicked him out. Tommorow we are going to the Cezanne exhibit - can you imagine - he's sweet and I get to be smart ? What gives??

Was emailed by the ex today.

He needs all the pet insurance policy information for the dog that used to be mine and that I have been paying for since we got her.

He also needed the information on the flight to PTown that I also paid for.

He included two "icon smiley faces "

I want to hit something or puke.

Trying to decide which to do first.

uh - if John Rutherford is stepping down - I can think of no other who would rock that job then me...

What's in a Number ?

17 - grams of sugar in a Starbucks "Doubeshot Espresso with Cream"

12 - grams of "kitty" that I have purchased and partaken of since the break-up with Lucky.

1 - number of times I have "taken care of business" since I awoke.

3 - number of times I will have "taken care of business" before I go to sleep.

33 - current waist line, also easily confused with 31, 32 and 34 depending on the cut and maker of jeans

22 - pair of jeans I currently own and wear on a regular basis.

2 - number of times I have been in love in my life.

0 - number of times I intend to have my heart broken in the future - yeah right, uh ?

384,271 - Gross Profit Dollars to date for Q1

5 - percent multiplier of above number to determine my quarterly bonus.

8 - number of times I have watched "Donnie Darko"

12 - number of times I have watched "Urbania"

2 - number of people who keep regular office hours in my office.

1 - number of people who keep regular office hours in my office besides myself.

63,039 - number of unique visitors to this site since inception on May 14th, 2001

1,210 - average number of unique visitors to this site in a week

5 - number of bloggers I know I would have sex with if circumstances were right.

59 - number of bloggers I link to

58 - number of blogger who just went "uh - is he talking about me" (I left out Jennie - she's a Diva/Goddess - but I really know I'd barking up the wrong tree)

10 - number of bloggers I link to that I have met.

1 - number of times I've spent a night in jail.

4 - number of bar fights I have been in

6 - years old, age I realized I was gay after having a dream of a handsome fireman rescuing me from a fire - where my family perished - then taking me away with him.

210 - theoretically the number of men I have slept with if you assume 10 a year for 21 years (since I first started having sex)

12 - men have topped me in those 21 years.

2 - number of times I've been fucked by my ex (or anyone for that matter) in the past year and half.

3 - months, since I last had full on sex.

1 - number of times I have been mistaken for an armed bank robber and that police have surrounded the resturant I was dining in.

2 - number of people I call "best friend"

3 - number of people involved in an ideal sexual situation.

14 - number of three-ways I have had.

1 - number of times I had a three-way with my ex.

1 - number of times I have had a three-way involving my partner.

40,232 - number of miles on my 2000 BMW 3 series.

98,114 - number of miles on my 1990 Isuzu Pick-up before she died in 97.

4 - number of boyfriends that have cheated on me.

1 - number of boyfriends that I have caught in the act.

2 - number of boyfriends that I have cheated on.

18,000 - dollars, annual salary of first job out of college as a sales rep.

26 - number of American men in the military that have died in the Iraq conflict/war. (number may be off)

4 - number of periodicals I subscribed to (Business Week, GQ, Architectural Digest and Mens Health)

72 - age of the owner of my company.

3 - average amount of times he asks me the same question on the same day.

2,316,856.60 - current dollars in Accounts Receivable that I manage for his company.

33 - age of Bachelor #2

35 - age of Bachelor #1

33 - my age

44 - number of items on this list before I decided I better get my ass back to work.

..it's weird in what ways a man can affect me. How often intelligence or humor has turned me on over a big dick or a sweet ass (though I still really, really like both). Bachelor #1 spoke so eloquently, so efficiently and with such historical foundation on his views about american involvement in foreign countries in their effort to "spread" democracy - that I wanted to hump him then and there. We had intelligent conversation, then we had intellectual converation and finally, we had a candid conversation. He admitted he felt he was "aware" that sex hadn't happened yet. I assured him that it was restraint, not repulsion. I reminded him that I offer NO promises, NO future, but that I truly enjoy when his hands find their place holding mine in the movie theater, or the goodnight kiss, or the shared laugh over something inanely stupid.

So how do I go from this - to tomorrow's date - letting another charm me...all the while stealing moments of hatred for my ex in the back of my mind ?

...going to the movies with Bachelor # 1 tonight. I wonder if there is a discreet litmus test to see how deep he is - repeat after me "I really, really don't want anyone to get hurt".

Bachelor # 2 doesn't seem to think I blew it - I think he just doesn't get me, soooo he's trying to play it really cool now. He called, I called back - we made tenative plans for tomorrow night - whatever, if he wants to hang, cool.

I don't want a Bachelor # 3, I want to get laid - no strings. Last night during a great pump at the gym - I ran into a hottie I used to date right before Lucky. We had a long talk about both of us feeling really burned by our last relationships and how we really just wanted some good uncommited sex. Now right when I got back with Lucky - after the summer break - this hottie had made it known how badly he felt that he hadn't made it know that he wanted to get with me - little does he know, during the 10-15 minutes we talked I just kept thinking "Ask me to go home with you right now, and I more than gladly will".

My work days are flying by and my new diet - less carbs, less sugar, less caffine is kinda leaving me drained. I feel good about the body though - my tummy could be tighter - but I feel pretty sexy. Now if I can just get over the anxiety of the first guy seeing me naked. Starting to mull over a trip to Chi-Town for IML over Memorial weekend. Considering I have Palm Springs/ White Party in April, San Diego Pride in June and 4th of July in Ptown - a trip a month might be a little draining.

Maybe it's all actually a little draining - but I need to keep busy. The moments I'm alone feel so "alone". Normally it's ok - I enjoy my own company, but the other times when the house is quiet and there is no dog and I ask a question to the empty chair next to me about something on tv - I hear my question fall like a rock - unanswered by the stagnant air.

:: an anomalous list of thoughts by an anomalous guy ::

• The "oh-fucking-shit-I'm-fucking-single-and-I-fucking-miss-my-dog-blues" crashed through my front door on Sunday and I was not a pretty site.
  
• Shame because I had a blast playfully flirting with the self-proclaimed cock-tease and a much milder and subdued Sam
  
• The gay scene in Tucson could make "anyone" appreciate sex with livestock.
  
• Screw April Fools Day - it's quarterly bonus time - cough - the fucker -up.
  
• I think I blew it with Bachelor #2 - I'm just not ready to start having sleep overs no matter how hot you are.
  
• I've fallen in a mire I hoped to never see, clumsy, muddy, uncontrollable thoughts of hatred aimed at my ex.
  
• My house lost half it's life and all it's love when Baby scampered out that door, her food and water bowl still sit on my kitchen floor - I can't bring myself to put them away. Someone suggested to me lately that this aspect of my life has the perfect makings for a country song.
  
• When I told the guy at the house party on Saturday how much I appreciated the chance to play with their 6 week-old Yellow Lab puppy - I don't think he could have ever imagined how real I was being, shame.
  
• I've become heavily "naked" anxious - and amazingly stressed out about the first time I stand naked in the bedroom in front of another man.
  
• Charlies back - I find that oddly reassuring.
  
• I'm debating the beard for White Party next month.
  
• Thank GOD - Swish let me know he was alive, I was getting sick of hanging out in public restrooms looking for him.
  
• I'm really worried that Bachelor # 1 may be getting serious.
  
• I actually really, really like Nicole Kidman - but babe "are you trying to look like a cat or what?"
  
• I finally updated links and such, please send your obligatory thank you's in the form of a haiku.
  
• My unending crush on Jake Gyllenhaal seems to keep getting worse and worse - hit me.
  
• Engaging me in a professional work place to discuss my political and ethical viewpoint on the war with Iraq is about as smart as - well shit it's not, it's just fucking rude and stupid.
  
• Every time an episode of "Six Feet Under" ends I think - oh shit - now Mom and Dad are gonna ask me what a P.A. is next time I see them.
  
• I deleting the amazingly dark entry I wrote yesterday - which made me start thinking that we should have a collective site that we all share where we anonymously post the blog entries we think are too much for everyone else to handle.
  
• I'm over my list already.

i was gonnna post this big drunken blog about dinner at a completely straight-factory of healthy but delicious patsta, folllowed by drinks with bitches with power tits at MERC Bar - followed up by an evening of lesbo loving at ANBB - but crap - this boys got to rest up to terrorize TUCSON tommorrow

Can guys take "Midol" ???

Can guys take Midol to save there pounding head from a hang-over ??

If I married you, would you sit around in a sexy wife beater and knock me up (and around) ??

How many men are you allowed to go on a date with in one respective period before your nicknamed "Smurfette" (friggin bitch was getting it coming and going) ??

How come I haven't put out yet ???

Why can't I get the boy with the CS (uh - you'll figure out what it stands for) lips out of my head - and why does he know he's in my head when I try not to show it ??

And where the fuck have you been ??? Standing at urinal again ? (psst I'm acting tough, but I miss ya baby - let's have breakfast/coffee tomorrow)

How much more BBC, NPR, CNN can I take before I just want to act like it's not really going on ??

Another date/hang out/thingie with Bachelor #1 tonight - this will be the 5th, this time he's made reservations - that sounds so serious I want to giggle. Bachelor #2 actually asked me what I was passionate about last night and actually wanted to know the answer - uh, I'm not used to guy actually giving a damn about what "I" think.

Please make my head stop hurting.

Oh and apologies to Mr. Sunshine and Mr Lord of Darkness (kidding) for taking so long to update your moves on my links - I'm still reading you - I'm just frigging lazy - it's all the masturbation and booze. And I have some new lads I want to add - namely you and you and we'll just see how long I take to get around to that.

I want a horoscope like this EVERY day :

LEO

In his book Animals and Psychedelics, ethnobotanist Giorgio Samorini proves that many animals deliberately alter their consciousness. His evidence includes robins that get drunk on holly berries and act "like winged clowns," as well as goats that are dependent on caffeine and reindeer that seek out hallucinogenic mushrooms. Samorini concludes that the desire to get high is a natural drive. He suggests that intoxication has served as an evolutionary force for some species, breaking down outworn habits in such a way as to improve long-term survival. All this is prelude to my advice for you, Leo: You now have a cosmic mandate to shed your shticks and expand your awareness. Since you're not just an animal, but also an ingenious human, you don't have to resort to drugs and alcohol to do it. But you should do it.


courtesy of Free Will Astrology

Oh and BTW - Cutie Number One and Co-hort Cutie Number Two - be warned - like a swarm of locusts I will descend on Tucson this Saturday and Saturday Night for street festival. I will be rebel-rousing, grabbing asses, drinking heavily, cursing frequently, and mentioning as many times as it takes how horny I am - to get the job done. Please lock up your friends and neighbors - or just hand the cute ones over to me and no one gets hurt.

Hooray for the Lambs

This post is in complete celebration of the most "fantasical" and "dangerous" of all the animals in the animal kingdom.

WHAT ???? You don't believe me.

Well let me explain - while some people think that lambs are indigineous to only the grand state of Texas, it has become quite evident to me that they have agressively migrated to all the interlocking states and even beyond (Hawaii - keep a look out baby!). Many people misinterpret the lambs great contribution to society. Let me point out in recent weeks some of the many great contibutions lambs have done for the greater good of the US of Aaaaaaaaaaaa.

Get them Dixie Chicks ! And you thought the match up between a lamb and a chick could only happen at the county fair - oh mon frere (oops - no french, no french ! ) , that traitor-ess Natalie and her big head - what has she done. Lambs see her for what she is "a commie" - all 3 feet, 4 inches of her ! Sure she seemed like maybe she was just bright enough when beyond the brain-washing Pro-American sentiment of our news/marketing/publicity machines to see that the rest of the world thinks that maybe good ole George Bush is just a bit of a international, diplomatic-retard, red-neck bully - but the lambs saw right through that - growl with me - she's a traitor. I mean really - a girl band whose actually willing to look the way the want, sing the music from their roots and work outside the normal conventions of a record label - they wreak of traitor. And - I know, I know - her comment ( and shame ) was directly aimed at Bush - but the lambs saw right threw that to - she disrespected every member of our armed forces and the entire United States - unlike George who totally respects their right to die in a hostile nation in an unsanctioned war against - gasp! - A Dictator.

Get that One Dictator Whew ! The lambs are right - thank god there's only one - yep, only one dictator in the whole wide world who might have weapons of mass destruction pointed at out proverbial head - Mr. Jung will you please sit down we're talking politics here - yes sir - kill this one and we're all done. The lambs know that the stork brings the dictator and plops him down in middle eastern country once every few decades - thank goodness our government never ever knew a thing about this man and his surprising rise to power.

They All Look Alike I've been wasting so much time during this to understand the political, religious and ethnic differences of the multicultural players of this international chess game. The Lambs know how to make it so much easier - they all look alike! Iraqi's, Iranians, Arabs, Israeli's, Syrians - they all look alike. It just makes it so much easier to dismiss centuries upon centuries of existance - and you have alot more time to watch 'American Idol'. Plus it's a sure hit to draw the line between each and every one of them. It's like "Liberty Sheild Connect-the-Dots", since they ALL look alike they ALL must plan their terrorist activities together ! Cuz I still remember learning in Ms Hadley's 7th grade home room that whenever you want to keep a secret ( or plan covert, international terrorist activities ) it's a lot easier by involving and telling as many of your classmates as possible.

Hate the French Never forget - if their not with us, their against us - if their against us - boycott the common household use of the name of anything that reminds you have them. Whew - can those lambs make a stand or not. I learned about this one while sitting next to a lovely couple from Grand Rapids, Michigan at the Cirque du Soleil show. They had matching beret's - it was really quite darling to see a lamb in a beret.

So I just keep trying to remember what the lambs honorary motto is :

Let's see I know it goes - "Lamb's to a ____________ "

Uh, "Bath House", naaaaa
maybe "Circuit Party" ???
I know - I know....
Slaughter.

Now where did I put my "Autour De Lucie" CD's and orange duct tape ?

I can't even begin to think how the four words; Blitzkreig, George Bush and Diplomacy will be strung together in history text books ten years from now.

...I lost the coin toss.

The small, dingy quarter made of copper-nickel, flipped up in the air - careless and unaware of what it's outcome could mean to me:

joy or heartbreak.

It had come to this, two bickering exboyfriends trying to decide the fate and ownership of their mutally much loved dog. I shouldn't have risked it, I should have taken her and let it go to court, I should of hit him - broken every bone in his arrogant, pompous, spoiled brat little body. But I wanted to be fair, he wouldn't give her up. So as the words heated and the hurts laid open in both our eyes. I flipped a coin.

Have you ever really looked at a quarter ?

The "Heads" side, the silhouette of George Washington, with seven capitalized words above his head: " L I B E R T Y". Would we find freedom after this ? Would I have my liberty ? This coin was minted in 1985. What was important to me in 1985? I was about to start my sophomore year of high school - so probably boys, punk music, getting stoned and getting a drivers license. Did I ever think that one day I would be standing in the middle of my living room on an overcast March day flipping a coin to decide the fate of the dog I had raised from a puppy with my ex. The "Tails" side features the bold eagle, the name of our country and the words that I'm sorry I just can't believe in: IN GOD WE TRUST. I'm gonna get slammed for saying that - sorry, we all feel differently about things and I don't trust what I don't believe in.

He chose "Heads", my mind raced a little trying to remember the odd's of "Tails" - was it ever really a 50/50 chance for me ? I looked down at her - all excited to see me, her brown eyes embracing me, tail wagging feverishly. I leaned into her and kissed the tip of her cold, wet black nose. She kissed me back quickly, loving her Daddy. Who would wake me in the morning at 7am? Who would cuddle close, sharing my pillows in the dark? How would I ever go to the dog park with any dog but this ?

The coin hit the ground - and my heart hit the floor. I had lost. I had lost Baby forever. As he shook my hand I mumbled how I would send him all the paperwork for the pet insurance and dog license, I stared numbly into his eyes - and below the surface, behind my eyes - in the backroom of my mind - I was screaming. I HATE YOU, YOU FUCKING BASTARD. I didn't say goodbye to her, he whisked her out the door. At the door we both mumbled how we hadn't wanted it to come to this I assured him he would give her a wonderful home. The voice from the backroom kept screaming, incessantly bellowing: I FUCKING HATE YOU. I softly asked him to "just go away and let me move on with my life" and shut the heavy, black metal security door. I walked back inside and sat in front of the tv and cried.

March 14, 2003

You have to stay active. You'd probably lose your mind if you sat still for too long. Whether or not there's business afoot, you'll probably pursue pleasure instead. In fact, with the Stars encouraging fun, it will be a component of whatever you do. You are, after all, the Lion, sleek and vibrant, always in search of your prey. Maybe that means you're at the top of your game. If you really want this adventure to heat up, bring along your mate. And if this is about finding companionship, you'll end up with someone beyond your wildest dreams.

Hmmmm....see, my horoscope says I "should" be going out every night ( *grins* )

I swear I didn't write it myself.

The longer version of below

Hope. Anxiety. Despair. Anger. Frustration. Hate. Joy. Elation. Desire. Lust. Fear.

I’m Reeling. Oscillating. Wavering. Floundering. Dancing. Flying. Bouncing.

Seconds. Minutes. Hours. Days. Never the same, seemingly unique to each other – emotions and feelings with twisting DNA, changing form, texture, meaning and substance.

I keep throwing myself into anything. Dates. Parties. Dancing. Drinking.

I want to Fuck. Flirt. Kiss. Rim. Caress. Pound. Hold. Soothe. Excite. Cuddle.

I Breathe. I Cry. I Scream. I Laugh. I Dream.

I Fall Down. I Stand Back Up.

I’m burning.

Can you see the flickering of my flame ?

Hear me ramble about absolutely-fucking-nothing

So I should try and string together a full paragraph and astound you with my literary prowness, but instead I'll just make a grammitically-appaling, bullet point list of my meandering thoughts:

I'm at peace with this break-up, it was the right thing, at the right time.

Running into Lucky (literally) on the dance floor at the Black Party at the Ice House was unnerving to say the least.

Made more unnerving by the fact that N. convinced me to do Shrooms for the first time (there really fun he said) - Bullshit. I was a wreck.

Plus I was a wreck in full 'leather daddy' gear - Trooper hat, harness, cuff restraints, arm bands, military pants - Lucky didnt even know who I was at first.

I have gone out every night since last Monday. Every night has been way beyond normal. There's such a surreal vibe good and bad to what is happening.

We only went as a group this weekend. Shopping for our leather for Saturday night. To go dancing. To sunday beer bust. Everyone coming to my house for beers before we went out - it was nice.

I have this drawer in my kitchen where I've started dumping the phone numbers I'm getting, I find myself paralyzed when I go to call a new guy - what do I tell him? How do I warn him not to get in over his head with me? Is it ok to want him, to fuck him, to hold him - if I don't want a future with him?

I tried a one night stand on Thursday - he was a complete out-of-towner coming all the way from New Zealand - it was sloppy and drunken and completely sucked. We did next to nothing but he spent about 2 hours trying to get his hands, fingers and dick up my ass. Why do people take "tops" home thinking their gonna go "ok - sure". Dumb Ass. I managed to kick him out, but had to drive him back to where he was staying - I got to work on one hour of sleep and still had the whole weekend of partying to go.

They were handing out cards at the party on Saturday warning about a syphillis outbreak in Phoenix. Great - just dandy.

I'm going out to dinner with a really nice guy tonight, handsome, sexy, built, smart, educated - and I'm pounding my head against the wall wondering if this is completely insane. Do I tell him before or after dinner that this can go nowhere. That I'll go to my bedroom with him but can't date him.

I have another guy - hot swarthy muther-fucker I have lusted for for a long, long time who asked me to go home with him last night - I wanted to - god I wanted to but I chickened out.

Then there the friends - those guys who start making thoughts and feeling known. That get me all nervous and wondering will anyone just be there for me - be my friend.

I had the one unfortunate instance with a friend whose a porn star who I adore and recognize as incredibly hot who became visibly angry with me and stormed off on Saturday night after explaining that his boyfriend had given him permission to have one hot night of no hassle hot dirty sex with me - meanwhile the shrooms are making the whole wall behind him do crazy messed up shit - and he takes my "I really can't talk about this right now" and lack of erection when he shoves his hand down my pants - as a turn down.

I'm jacking off constantly, 3-5 times a day - it's the only time I feel in control, peaceful and unthreatened.

The whole bullshit deal with the trial is over.

I worry about my ex reading this site.

I worry about hurting someone in all of this dating shit.

I worry I have no idea what I'm doing.

I worry that I'm gonna pick up an STD if I sleep with any of these guys.

I worry that I haven't cried yet. I worry that Lucky has. I know when we looked at each other on Saturday and dance within feet of each other - that we were trying to read each others minds. You could feel it though - it was over. Complete, resolute, permanently over.

....so I shouldn't have been shocked by my ex's erratic behavior over the past two days - he's doing what he does best - childish and selfish behavior. What I hoped to be a clean break is now going to be stretched out over weeks due to his inextricable inability to let go in a normal and realistic fashion.

So how much does it cost to have your locks changed ?

I guess my wish-making powers may be more powerful than I thought. We're entering our third straight day of rain. I can't remember in my 23 years living in AZ how long it's been since I've seen three straight days of rain.

I've been keeping my head together, reading "The Tao of Pooh" and "The Te of Piglet", dancing around to Massive Attack and Pet Shop Boys, and singing karaoke with Erasures remakes of classic songs. I'm allowing Western Philosophy and Music to lick clean my wounds. Tonight I'm going to see my ten-year old carrot-top nephew perform in his school play - I'm planning a standing ovation each time he enters and exits the stage.

Lucky and I meet on Saturday to tie up lose ends and decide the fate of dog ownership - that's gonna be rough - but somehow I feel very strong right now, not invincible...but humanly engaged.

...it's raining today. Pretty much - with out stop and only momentary hesitation - rain has alternately falling gently, briskly and emphatically, all day long. No curious beams of warm, glowing sun to slip cleverly through, just soft grey clouds with even softer white edges interlock over the visible sky.

I feel almost thankful that nature is edging me back into this gently - "Hey - let the guy have a grey, rainy day - he could use it!"

It feels good.

I feel like the earth is willing to sigh and feel sad with me - just so I don't feel alone in this.

I feel sad, but not unhappy. Does that make sense ?

...and so it goes.

It's over.

The conversation has been had and I have ended my relationship - the one that I - and many of our friends were convinced was the one that would really make it and beat the odds. He presented his side that despite the space of the past ten days that he still thought we could make this work. He reminded me of the good times, promises made, plans for the future. He noticed how my eyes would drift off when he spoke. I let his speak, I listened. When I spoke - I finally asked him to just let me go. I wasn't the man he was meant to spend the rest of his life with, for all I tried and hoped - for all his convictions that we were in love and I was the greatest man he had ever known - I'm just not the man for him. As we had both entered our 30's we had begun to grow differently and become unique to each other. I didn't fall apart and neither did he. Once I had spoken he said there wasn't anything I had said he couldn't agree with - we have been here before, we fought to turn this around - couples counseling, seperate residences, days off - despite our pride, our ego, and our geniune love for each other - our relationship was on life support. This time there was less shock, we had both been preparing this last week and a half for that fact that the next conversation may go just like this.

I didnt cry til he left. I went out to my backyard and stared up at the cloudy night sky and wondered "what's next?", I lit up the grill and grilled chicken. I sat down and had dinner and paid my bills. I watched TV. I resumed my life. Then they came - warm, salty tears moving across my cheek bones, falling then flowing along the lines of my neck, coming to a rest at the collar of my shirt.

I will be ok.

I feel sad - but somehow at peace with this.

I don't regret the past three and half years, I will filter out the best memories and try and let go of the hurt.

I think I'll go grocery shopping now.

Yep, kinda an out of control night - was that my group of friends starting a circle jerk at Padlock - uh, I know nothing about that - and considering how nasty 95% of the patrons were - no one beyond the circle would know anyway. Pulled the ghost and took off - I couldn't deal - I could inititate the trouble - but admittedly couldn't follow through. Sleeping really short hours lately - been up since what 430am - watched some crappy horror movie with William Katt (remember him - sing with me "...believe it or not I'm walking on air...bla, blah, bla...- something - flyyyyyyyyy") about pirahana eating kids at a day camp - I rooted for the fish.

Lucky comes by to get Baby at 8am - we haven't had the discussion yet - suppose it's inevitable - but neither of us want to talk to each other.

I'm gonna take off for either Palm Springs or San Diego tonight - hop in the car - veg' to some music. Hopefully one of my buddies will come - if not - I'll still go. Be some place else, anoynomous - maybe make up a name and pretend to be some one else for the night - how about Delbert, an Orthodonist from Sheboygen ???

Yeah - I didn't think so either.

I've got this naseaus feeling in my stomach that won't go away. As I sat in front of my therapist last night spilling it all out (oh come on now - you HAD to suspect that I was seeing a therapist) it became this red hot burning sensation. I thought several times of excusing myself to the bathroom - but to do what "lines"? (naaa, to 80's), "puke" ? (naaa, to Bulimia), "cry" ? (naaaa, something I should do - but honestly don't know how to). By the time I got home - it was just kinda there with me - this uneasy feeling. I suspected it was what it was like to have a premonition - but with less clarity to it's purpose. It's not even official, I'm waiting til March 1st. That's what he wanted. I could turn back if I wanted to - but it would be the same thing 4 weeks, 6 months, a year from now. I watched Trista (The Bachelorette) picking Ryan the Renaissance Fireman and thought "Oh No" go for the slick guy from LA - he's something you can chew up and spit out in 6 months, a year, when you get offered your first "straight-to-video" B-Movie called "Gee - I Hate the Camera" - but, not Ryan - you just know he would cry, and it would be heartbreaking to see that big lug cry. So I decided that I'm probably more a Ryan - to aware of my emotions, to sincere and open with my mind and heart, to different, from what I don't know - just to different ...

Trista really should have picked the other guy.

I'm the son of an Irish Alcoholic and a Norwegian Agressor (meeting the back of the hand was common place for any back-talk or teenage indescretion) - it's ok, I'm beyond it...well I am when things are good. Yet when things I hold true and dear begin to crumble - like my relationship - I will admit I can feel the vines of dysfunctionality, creeping like cats claw over my conscience and better sense of well being.

A child of alcoholism and agression does either of two things when confronted with emotional pain - they look to what they find "medicinal" or what they find "destructive". Dysfunctional sure - but you know what - I can admit to it instead of hanging behind some cloak of ignorance where I say I'm just "partying it up with my buddies". I snorted through 7 grams of kitty in 7 days, I sucked down two Bloody Mary's at lunch today and then came back to work - no, it's probably not terribly healthy - but I'm aware - very aware of what is going on. When a doctor isn't close by prescribing medicine for our pain - we find ways to cure ourselves, it's instinct, it's the human condition.

No maybe not for all, maybe you go play racquet ball and watching your relationship of the past 3.5 years end is ok for you. Good for you - fucking, eh - your god-damn amazing.

I'm real - I'm hurting. I'm sick of believing in love - that I can be everything to someone who isnt even sure what they want and less of all that I even fill the bill.

Am I falling part ?? - no.

If you - as a reader, having read my most inner thoughts and honest moments - have any clue what I have 'survived' in 33 years on this earth and still have ended up being a mighty nice guy - than you know this will not kill me.

Maybe I might be getting a little James Dean on your ass over the next couple of months - sure, but hey - it's just like TV - switch the channel if you fucking want.

...not that we don't have enough to worry about with well Sadam, Kim Jong and missing-from-the-axis-of-evil-but-certainly-belongs-there Micheal Jackson...there's this excerpt from Dan Savages latest column:

"Very worrisome, and not just for gay men in L.A. A few days after the L.A Times story ran, The San Francisco Chronicle reported that (surprise!) drug-resistant staph infections were appearing in gay men in San Francisco, too. Public-health officials in San Francisco are assuring people that this isn't "the equivalent of a new HIV disease," but this sentence, from the original L.A. Times story, should sound eerily familiar to anyone over 35: "Although the outbreak seems confined primarily to gay men, doctors say at least one woman contracted the infection, probably from a male sex partner."

scary.

LEO: As positive as that new moon may be, as you get closer to the middle of the month, your closest relationships become a bit rocky — just when you want them to be smooth the most!

No, Valentine's Day on February 14 just isn't likely to deliver the carefree feeling of fun you are hoping for. I feel so badly having to tell you this, but it's true. Old Uranus will stir the pot, trying to undo the best-laid plans. I am afraid I have to report that Valentine's Day is almost certain to be disappointing on some level, as your partner is apt to act completely out of character. Or it may be that conditions surrounding you will create obstacles to enjoying the day to the fullest. For example, your sweetheart may have to work late that night or may be away on a business trip. It's also possible that a lover's spat may spoil the day's mood, or that your partner will show a side of his or her character that you have never seen before. All this could be troubling.

Ever have an astrological forecast that was just a little too exact ?

A day before Valentines Day my boyfriend and I have pretty heavy fight - the day of Valentines Day (after not speaking to each other for two days) he calls to wish me a happy Valentines Day and tell me he wants to take some time off from each other - apparently two weeks is that magic number and he'll contact me on March 1st. I've been advised that "all boyfriend rules apply" during his imposed time off. Such an interesting choice of passive-agressive wording.

So not knowing if he's reading this site or not, let's make this clear:

I feel betrayed.
I feel hurt.
I feel angry.
I feel sad.
Is "crushed" an emotion ?? I'll try that one on for size - it seems to fit nice and snug.

But - I don't feel "confused" - oddly, not at all.

I know exactly how this 3 and half year roller-coaster ride is gonna end.

hmmm, I'm spending Valentines Day alone. Sounds kinda strange for a guy in a long-term relationship.

I'm getting a bunch of horror movies, some beer and getting stoned - fuck VD day.

roses are red, violets are blue
after a fucked up night like tonight
wonder if you think I'll hold tight - still to you

Saw these boys in concert last night - fucking awesome. Short - short, concert though. Of course it is always nice to know all the songs - I know, I know, I'm one of those guys who gets drunk and sings along - so sue me. Looked pretty ridiculous when I tried on my concert shirt when I got home and they had sold me a girls petite - Hey were they trying to say something there ?? I looked like Brittany's Trailer Park Back-up Dancer (way, way back!)
Painted my bedroom this weekend - Ralph Lauren "Snowdrift Suede" - awesome. Rearranged all the furniture according to Feng Shui principles - we'll see, we'll see. Really, really happy with the way it turned out though - especially for what a pain in the ass that Suede Technique is. Fairly mellow weekend, otherwise. Finally watched Luc Besson's "The Messenger" - not as good as his other films, but I think theres an interesting statement on the confusion between "pride and ego" and "religious faith" (but then again maybe I was reading in to it). So sad - it went by so quickly.

....alot of feedback - from many, many different directions on my recent post. Some really inspiring shit was shot back my way. I realize that I am incomplete in my effort to be whole. Yet, honestly I feel I'm trying - sometimes I tug the rope too hard, other times it's sandy musk and red, raw burns just hang on my hands - as if stubborn shadows against a reading wall.

Thoughts like what is self-respect? Give way to thoughts of, what is self-respect as a gay man (chew on the word 'compromise' a few times before you try and answer) ?? There's so much to think about on this path to - well fuck if I know - we'll say personally-enriching, life-affirming, hope-extracting, biggie-sized "Nirvana" - existance.

I don't know who the fuck I am - I can admit that.

So I cross-examine who I've been...
I read up on who I want to be...
and I dream of who I could possibly become.

"If the United States launches a surprise attack on our peaceful nuclear facilities, it will spark a full-scale war," said Rodong Sinmun, North Korea's main state-run newspaper, in a commentary carried by Radio Pyongyang.

There isn't one word of that sentence that doesn't give me the chills (though my favorite three are "Peaceful Nuclear Facilities")

(deep breath)

...ok...here we go again.

crap, now I feel like I'm gonna paraphrase everything I just wrote and it will lose it's sincerity and it's within the sincerity and shame I feel when I tell this story that I am empowered to forgive myself for having wronged another. This is the first time I've ever told this story. You see I've always believed no matter how good a person you strive to be or become - you should never forget your wrongs, sear your mental flesh with the pain inflicted on another. I've had this misguided belief that this keeps you from ever committing the wrong again. This behavior is limited and is restraining me from becoming a better person.

I realize now though - you can't slay the dragons (i borrow from mr 8LDJ here) if you see yourself as the dragon.

So, in an effort to let go of this I push my internal dragon down on the hardened ground - fire licking and spewing from it's mouth - kicking and screaming, and I slay it with my written word.

One hopes.

The cursor calls out to me - blinking, flashing, warning - to put this down on this vacant, pulsing, white screen is to jeopardize what others may think or feel about me. I make permanent and public a memory I've never shared with a loved one or friend. I do this though to show I'm honest when I say - this blog is about my personal growth - NOT - winning any popularity contests (nod and thanks to Jer here). You may not like the "me" in this story, but then neither do I.

So this is a story from history. My personal history.

A "me" I hardly know now - but maybe see an occassional glimpse of in a rash moment, or heated exchange. For all intensive purposes though - who I was then, maybe just for a few minutes, or a few collective days - I could, I would, never be again.

In my early 20's I was possessed by a streak of anger and self-hatred that was as wide as the blacktop of the autobahn and as dangerous as crossing it on foot. I was burning bright with a blazing red hot anger - fueled by booze and drugs. I had no sense of direction except a spiralling pattern downwards. I honestly never thought I would be alive in my 30's to be writing this - questioning wrong moves and worse mistakes.

I want to evoke the whole evening from that night - a sultry, summer night or a crisp autumn evening - but I honestly couldn't tell you. I've shut it away for so long, not wanting to remember - that I have successfully forgotten all but what haunts me about that night.

Have you ever wronged someone ? Truly - wronged ?

The wrongs that others have visited upon us live in us - until one day we visit those wrongs on another.

I often savor these words, pulling my tongue, scraping my teeth, across them - unable to swallow them, uneasy with their taste. I am not saying this is a mandate, or others aren't strong enough to not subcumb to this theory. But violence is known to beget violence, hate to be beget hate and so on. The biggest error within these words is that it transfers it's life on to others as we wrong them. It does transfer, but it never leaves you - it just grows stronger trying to take it's hold with each wrong you do.

I ran into "D" at Nutowne on a Sunday night. Sunday's were beer bust and by 9pm there were only two conclusions to make about the bars inhabitants - they were inebriated or out to get laid.

I was on that particular night - both.

"D" and I hadn't spoken in years.

He had been the first boy to break my heart. An early and first example of why they call them crushes. It had been a summer romance after graduating high school, when I was 17. He was my first "lover". Though I had already been dating and sleeping with boys since I was 12, this was the first that someone made me feel lost in them - that I wanted to live and breathe alongside their every breath. He was the first boy I fucked and once that started I couldn't get enough. I fucked him every chance we would get. Less knowledgable - more naive. We swallowed, we barebacked - all this in the bedroom next to my sleeping parents. After a few months he got a fake ID and was getting into bars. I probably seemed less exciting than the opportunity to feel grown up. He gave me Chlamydia and then when confronted broke up with me and told me he was going straight. I crashed emotionally - every car on that autobahn left treads across my ripped-open chest.

So here we were - was it 4 years later, 6 years - I've shut that out.

He was hammered and he wanted me. I had filled out, tight, beautiful muscles, evenly tanned. I wore my hair in a hassle free buzz cut. I had matured physically from the wirey 17 year old I had been. I was strong and I had lost any resemblance to the sweet, naive kid I had been. There was an edge to me now - an animal agressiveness. I supposed this all just made him more attracted - he had always been more attracted to the 'bad boy' cliche. He was a career bus-boy, a perpetually-stoned pretty boy, trapped in a high school hey day that had left him behind. He had failed to move on in any way from who he was 4 years prior. The eyes though were still so blue, the lethal combination of surfer blond and high school jock - but the years were passing and "care-free" had given way to "aimless".

I wanted him too.
I wanted to fuck him.
I wanted to hurt him.

We went back to his place - the whole way he was gushing compliments and praise. How together I looked, how hot I had become, how much he had regreted not staying with me - what shit, what fucking - absolute-I'm gonna fuck the shit out of you then spit in your face-bullshit. The anger was welling up in my chest - screaming like a tribal warrior - "let me out" - LET ME OUT!

We were all over each other the second we entered his small one roomed attic apartment. When he shoved his tongue in my mouth - I bit down - drawing blood. He let out a scream and pushed me off:

"Fuck - what did you go and do that for asshole??", he said.

I calmed him down - apologized - said the moment had gotten away from me. I kissed his forehead, his neck, lifting his shirt over his head. I pushed down his jeans and feverishly began to rim his ass. He was past the tongue-biting, moaning, pushing my face into his ass. I shoved him down - hard. He toppled over.

"Take it easy - your being rough.", he said.

Something inside me had clicked - someone had unlocked a door - the chants of "Let Me Out" had been silenced. I was drunk. I was full of hate. I was going to hurt him.

There are times in your life that you are pushed out of your own body - by fear, by anger, by pain. This was one of them. I watched from above - disengaged from my body - unable to find my way back inside.

I grabbed his arms and pinned him down. He started fussing, telling me to stop - I started spewing hateful things. What a fucking pathetic loser he was - that he would die a no one, die alone, what a pathetic whore he was, he wasn't good enough to deserve me. I became rougher - punching him, wrestling him and then fucking him. Pounding my dick into him - never releasing his arms - pinning the weight of my body against him. He started to cry. I was hurting him - He was hurt. Sometime during it - it blurred from consensual - to nonconsensual - and back again. I hadn't even considered a condom - I hadn't seen him as worth it. I blew my load inside his ass. I pulled out, released him. He screamed a wave of obscenities at me. I told him I had waited years to hurt him. I was all the way home before I felt like I was back inside my body again.

This is the worst thing I have ever done to another person. What had been done to me at 16 - I had now done to another man. Did I rape him - I can't say. He gave me his number afterwards - would you give your number to a guy who just knocked you around and forcibly fucked you ? It took years for me to see beyond that moment and see it not for vengeance - but something so indescribably wrong - that I shut it away.

I never called him. I never apologized for what I did or how far I had gone. He approached me a couple of weeks later and showed me the bruises, called me an asshole and walked off. He died a few years later. AIDS. I can't apologize to him now. Let him know the shame I've felt, the disgust I feel for treating him that way.

So a decade has past and it haunts me that even once I could have been that person, so angry, so cruel to have acted this way to another person - no matter how much I felt they had wronged me.

I am not that person - not now.

I never want to be that person again - not ever.

I try everyday - to not ever be again.

We say we want people to know us - to understand us, but then we only tell them the good things about ourselves.

We hide from people the things we've done wrong, the things we have to live with in the dark of night.

fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck

there is nothing worse then writing a emotionally charged entry and then switching screens and losing the entry.

fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck

...at best, I'm hiding out emotionally lately. too many small hurts. people i trust and people I knew to hate. i want to start putting words down on paper again, but I'm processing things I'm worried about saying aloud. I feel like i've stopped saying anything real or important - distracted by the fucking popularity parades on other sites. i worry about ways i've wronged others. times i've failed to be the good guy i've tried so hard to be. people i've done well by - mistakenly - to see what shit they really are.

i look at the picture of the little boy below and I wonder who he grew up to be - and what mark on the world - if any he'll make.

cryptic ? perhaps.

...over that background. easier on your eyes.

"In by March - out by June" ?????
Is this our governments idea of the military "Rythym Method" ?
Either way - someones getting fucked.

...my biggest achievement of the weekend was receiving my new dining room table. It's a trip how it changes the dynamic of not just the room between my kitchen and my TV room but of the whole house. I'm reading a book on Feng Shui and have yet to adopt the practices - or buy in to the whole thing - but I do find it interesting that the rooms I feel least comfortable in have furniture that faces directions that don't work with my natural "Year of the Rooster - THE COCK" shui ( pronounced - SHWAAAAAAYYYYYYY). Anyway - it makes my house look so "House-Like" - less the single guy with beer and poppers in the fridge and more the - I think we'll have Duck L'Orange for dinner.

Another stop on the way to Adultsville.

Well, now.

Have I ever been deluged (am I making up words again or is that one real?), bombarded, buried with emails regarding my "Woe-is-me" drunkenly scrawled ramblings of Wednesday night. Every email has been a sweet bitch-slapping, charming butt-kicking, loving hit-to-the-back of head message. I owe responses. But I'm trying to come up with the apropos combination of flirtation/musing/bitchiness/cajoling to answer them back.

The funny - yet wonderful - thing about blogging is that it is all relative to moments in time. Much like life. In one, or a collective series of moments, we can feel inextricably one way. Mostly because we are "feeling" that way. Feelings are fluid. They can possess a viscosity that allows them to slowly move across your psyche, or a fire-consuming like content that races them from tip-of-toe-to-top-of-head in a day. My depressions are a crimson and orange lava slowly ebbing through my brain - my self-loathing’s are more sporadic - a summer-time brush fire, all consuming - but quickly extinguished.

I DO like my age. I'm so glad to be beyond the youthful bullshit of floating checks to get by (more often ending with the sound - BOING!), sleeping around to see if in others - I would/could/should find myself, rubbing one penny by itself (because - it was the richer kids who had TWO to rub together - not me) and the endless insecurities of maybe never being someone my parents could be proud of.

Oddly enough Sunday was a great self-esteem day. Gay Rodeo - men who appreciate men weekend. I got so much attention at Charlie’s that it became a little awkward hoping it wouldn't strike jealousy in my boyfriend’s heart. I felt very appreciated - even if it was as a Daddy.

I HAVE the HAVES. Things you aspire to have by 33. Car, House, Dog, Boyfriend, Friends and a wealth of memories of having done crazy things, illegal things, stupid things, happy things and in all of them "memorable" things. I have success because I beat the shit out of myself to get it. I convince myself that these things complete me, make me or enhance me. So isn't it funny that the people who read me - like me and have never seen or experienced these "Haves" - they have chosen to like me for my written word, my passionate ramblings, and my off-base humor. I am all states of evolution depending on which attribute or characteristic you are concentrating on - in some ways I'm a wise old man, in others a silly, naive, little boy.

Whether slow-moving lava or quick-burning fire - I do know this - I am a force of nature, an element of something bigger - and I evolve as slowly and as quickly as I can.

...who are you ? and where have you taken my face ???

it sucks, really - it just sucks. I've built my site on talking about the bigger issues and greater thoughts - i hope - so in context the post I begin to write is self-fulfilled and trite. but honestly at 33 - it sucks to begin to fade. I didn't write the rules - but I knew them - I've always known them. For all the people who disregard you when your young as "pretty" and "smart" - the pretty counts for so much more in the gay scene than you realize. Oh what it is to be a pretty face and hot body! When I was young - I looked - well fuck it - I looked pretty damn good. I thought my set-back was everything else. I hadnt gotten the degree, I wasn't making the $$$, I was driving a pick-up. But tonight - at 33 - hanging with my buddies who were in there 20's it was painfully obvious - that my muscles, my cock, my checking account, my BMW - were nothing. I had bags underneath my eyes that no ORIGINS product seemed to eliminate, I had a hairline that "ran" from me as quickly as it receded from my forehead, I had love handles that grew over muscle and my heart and my spirit hung half as high.

It's vain and it's BS, but it's the life we live in. Where smoother is pretty and tighter is better and younger is well, younger.

I used to own this bar - and now I'm barely taking up breathing room.

 

Not to be an overachiever but, I'm already done with my tax return and should see it tomorrow. HR Block Tax Online rocks!

The question is out there again, not "Why would anyone ever give Anna Nicole Smith her own show?" or "Where is there more corruption - the Catholic Church or Corporate America?" (though both are very, VERY valid questions)

But : "Why do we blog?"

I came across something off of my referral log today of interest, an exchange on "Datalounge":

RE: Blogs?
by: anonymous 01/14/2003 @ 11:56PM
Some say that these are just people with too much time on their hands. I say no. The people who follow them have too much time on their hands.

RE: Blogs?
by: anonymous 01/14/2003 @ 11:58PM
"Some say that these are just people with too much time on their hands. I say no. The people who follow them have too much time on their hands."
Takes less time to follow one than to have one, so I say you're wrong

First - I'm pulling this comment out of context, the writer(s) from what I saw read blogs and had favorites and may or may not have been bloggers themselves ( I am in no way jumping on them and hope they don't mind me stealing a piece of there conversation) - but these two sentences just kept bouncing around in my head. I mean so many bloggers sit around wondering why they do this - and then to see what others may think really made me think.

SO: (Oops - dammit I forgot to have a "Second")...anyway....

Uh....bloggers are people with too much time on their hands ???

That's weird - I hit the gym 4-5 days a week, read voraciously (Business Week, Fortune Small Business, Men's Health - for the articles, Nun's Weekly - for the pictures, and even actual books - does 'scratch-n-sniff' count - not the book, me when I'm reading the book), I run every aspect of a successful small business, I invest time in a successful relationship of over three years, I take my dog to the dog park and play soccer in the backyard with her,
I find time to hope,
dream,
laugh,
share,
fuck,
love,
party,
and think.
I spend almost everyday of my existence thinking "There just isn't enough time in the day".

So - nope, that's not true.

Blog readers "are people with too much time on there hands"....nope, don't believe it.

Are we discounting that this is any less real a way to spend time then reading 'Moby Dick' (yes I mean the book by Herman Melville that bores everyone to unconciousness) ? I for one don't believe you could ever - EVER - be a blogger without being a reader. How does almost every blogger become a blogger ? Cause and Effect -baby - by reading a blog that inspires them to write their own - let's think of it as an intellectual virus. I learn so much by reading other blogs. I learn about life in different cities, other countries and how we/I often myopically view our world/our life as universal. I see how others deal with death - beautifully and with courage. I read insights into literature, sports, the arts, pop culture, politics and history. It takes tons of time to follow other bloggers (just like maintaining "real world" friendships) - to choose between those who become friends and teachers that you follow everyday, to those you check in on - that flesh out the enriching and diverse world wide neighborhood you choose to live in. I connect with people I WILL meet, MAY meet and will NEVER meet, but a slice of how they are glows off this screen at you - intermingled with my ramblings, meandering thoughts and eccentric humor.

We seek validation.
We hope to be known.
We attempt to connect.

There's nothing WRONG with that.

We do it every day in this thing called our daily existance. Whether it be hoping the hot frat boy or daddy beefcake at the gym smiles at us while were doing curls, or our dog runs to us first when were standing on the other side of the park, or our parents recognize that we are independent and successful, or that our boss senses that the company speeds along efficiently and successfully due to our exhaustive efforts.

WE ALL SEEK VALIDATION.

Stand on a street corner with busy traffic speeding by - don't you ever wonder what the drivers see standing on that street corner ?
Dance on a box in a dance bar at 1am on a packed Saturday night - don't you wonder what those swaying and dancing and mingling around you are thinking of you ?
Walk in to a crowded boardroom/classroom - do you wonder what first impression you make ?

I blog.

I don't look for "best of" votes, cash donations, naked pictures, hook-ups, blue ribbons or gifts.

I just blog.

I learn more about myself then I knew before I sat down to write...and willingly I share it, just hoping that it clicks with someone who needs to read those words. A hilarious story, a different point-of-view on a current event, a raw painful moment from my past or present or just a picture from my life.

I release my energy on to this computer and somewhere in another city, in another state, and maybe even in another country - someone walks away from their computer carrying my energy with them. Maybe it puts a "pep in there step", maybe it makes them cry, maybe it helps them see something clearer, maybe it pisses the shit out of them - but it's there, it's with them - despite mountains and miles - my energy.

I like to think that they do at least.

(I'll shut up now).

...have I mentioned that I've lost 16 of my unwanted pounds. Pretty good for 3 weeks of effort, excercise and really strict and boring dieting.

I spend quite a bit of time wondering if my parents know who I am, or even more recognize the man I've become. Though I have to admit to being taken aback (and a bit mystified) when I sat and had a lovely dinner with my Great Aunt Mae (and folks) last night and heard charming stories about what rock stars they use to be (or to use her words - "On the farm we all thought they looked like Hollywood movie stars"):

Due to the blaze at Casa Chris - "Le Swish" wants to shower at my house tonight, random thoughts escalating to a feverish pitch:

- how long will it take me to run home and practice laying around naked ?
- will my dog approve of another naked man in my shower (she likes to lick you when you step out)?
- is it wrong to continue to jerk off to Vintage Falcon porn with company present ?
- Lube, Poppers, Bullets and Cockrings - household decorations or deviant accessories ?
- Does this mean we're going steady?
- Will he buy me a ring ?
- Cock-ring ?
- Should I whip up my world famous tater-totts to make sure he's been fed ?

So much to do, cameras to install in the bathroom, wash out the one towel I use as a cum rag, hide the Olsen Twins porn collection, busy, busy!

.....hey, um - yeah HNY03...I've abbreviated it cause I'm kinda sick of saying it and especially hearing it. Lucky and I hid out yesterday. I put together a filing cabinet for him and we watched 'Marathon Man' which neither of us have ever seen and I cuddled with my dog every chance I got. We stayed out to 3am dancing and dropping on New Years Eve. It was different. In our last 4 New Years Eve's together we had never partied here - kinda quickly remembered why. It was nice - but in that every Saturday Night kinda way. I haven't dropped since August so - we were warm and fuzzy and went and hid on a velvet couch in a private area of the bar and made-out and bullshitted for what must have been an hour about making this last forever. Some cute, but LOUD - and I mean LOUD recent San Diego transplant fag-hag came up to tell us how adorable we were and why our Hamburger Mary's sucks, and why she loves being a fag-hag, and blah-blah-blah-blah-blah. Lucky adores obnoxious girls like this and gave her his business card and asked her to call us - I quickly got us back out on the dance floor which suddenly seemed the "quieter" and "safer" alternative. All in all a "nice" night - nothing more nothing less - we're debating Montreal or Toronto next year - someplace outside of the states.

BTW - thanks to those who read me and actually some how find amusement in my ramblings, lists, stories, thoughts, worries, bad jokes and et al. There seem to be enough of you that I've way surpassed 50,000 visitors as of the begining of the week. Thank you.

ow, ow, ow, OWWWWWW

My bi's and tri's are screaming today. I started back and reinvigorated my work-out by moving to high cardio, less hard-core pumping. For the weight lifting portion I'm switching to the "Power of Ten" - ouch. Every repetition - 10 second counts. I never knew bi's/tri's could take so long. I had to drastically reduce my weight levels - but the overall affect should be increased strength and tone. I kinda don't want to shed all the weight - I must admit I do like the slight intimidation that size lends to a guy - now if I can just perfect a manly sneer.

BTW - I'm gonna hit 50,000 visitors by Sunday morning. Kinda cool I guess. Suppose the way things are right now I'll decline posting a nude pic with 50,000 written on the inside of my right thigh (johnson hangs out to the left)

I let myself go.

Actually "I let myself go" is an understatement.

How 'bout - "Oh my god ! you fucking fat pig - what have you done with Kurt ??? You've eaten him haven't you ?? For Christ Sake - I think I can see him moving around in your belly - you devoured him like a Triscuit with cheese - didn't you ???"

It's the truth - and it's the ugly truth.

I haven't been a holiday person for years. Lucky is in New Jersey and I'm alone with my dysfunctional family unit - and around the holidays I have two favorite past times - Eating and Drinking. Normally there is some counterbalance where I work out every day without fail to keep the haunting pounds off for some huge New Years Eve Circuit Party in another city. This year though we're playing it mellow and staying home and somewhere back 3 and 1/2 weeks ago - I skipped the gym for one afternoon.

The only problem is I skipped it for the next 23 afternoons as well.

This is my longest absence from the gym since I was 20 and hospitalized with a doudenal ulcer.

Tanning, cutting my hair, the gym ...all those things fell by the wayside as I slipped in to a holiday coma. Restless, bitchy and depressed - I stopped posting much (it was so hard to find the time between NOT going to gym and constantly eating and drinking). So I'm at Tarbells for dinner with friends on Christmas Eve when D. reaches over and "pats" my belly. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

I can point fingers.

My boss - the "King of the One Slice", never will you meet a man who brings in more pies or cakes with one slice taken out of it - "Please - take this home - enjoy it!".

My Mom - always sending me from her house with fresh-baked cookies.

My boyfriend - who could eat the entire Krispy Kreme franchise and still not gain a pound.

At one point after Thanksgiving - between my boyfriend, mother and boss - I had 5 different types of pies in my refrigerator. I would sit with the whole pie and a fork in my favorite chair watching television - eating an entire pumpkin pie.

My Dog - Baby - often turned away in disgust.

So in the end, others didn't make me eat. I was feeding depression, stress and anxiety - and were they ever hungry!

No supplements, no gym, no need to get sexy for a holiday party, no shirtless - dance all night circuit parties, no real desire to even do it just for myself - the sweaters and jackets were covering it all up, but man O' man were the jeans getting tighter.

Then yesterday - it all came crashing in. I excused myself from my parents table and the Christmas dinner of Prime Rib and went to use the boys room. It was a fleeting thought "Hey a scale - god, I haven't stepped on one in months...wonder what I weigh???".

I placed the right foot, then the left. The dial swung feverishly from the left, to the right, then back again.

My parents said the screams of terror shook the walls.

198.

Since my 33rd birthday in August I have gained 27lbs.

So I called the boyfriend today:

"Babe - help me... for the love of all that is unholy and made of sugar and carbs... carry an elephant tranquilizer and shoot to kill if you see me heading for a bag of Salsa Verde Doritos, knock me unconcious with a pine-tar free baseball bat if you catch me ordering a "Biggie - Sized" anything ('cept Eros Lube that is) and shoot me with a sawed off shock gun if you hear the word "gift basket" fall from my lips one more time"

So it ends. I just woofed down a biggie double-quarter pounder with cheese, biggie fries and a biggie Coke. Say goodbye to the fast food.

No booze for 30 days - even New Years Eve.

I just pulled on my gym clothes and am leaving work early to hit the gym.

And if I see a pie, even a slice - I will stomp on it til it resembles road kill on highway loop 101.

..wish me luck.