My HIV test results came back negative today. Negative can be such a positive word.
Gay men experience some things in life with more regularity than other people do. For example, we probably go to more Margaret Cho performances and Sound of Music sing-a-longs. That is why some of us crave community with other gay men. We wish to share our common bonds and talk about the things that "nobody else understands".
Most intelligent people realize that HIV is not just a concern for gay men. On the other hand, statistics show most people who contract the disease do so through male-to-male sexual contact. So, when you're a man who sleeps with other men, it's important to get tested regularly. Even if you hate it. Even if it scares you and stresses you out. Even if you are "pretty sure" you've only engaged in safe sex.
I called the results line and gave them my confidential patient number. My heart pounded as I sat there imagining how my life would change if a voice came on the line and said that my results were positive. Or if they said I had to come in for my results which, for me anyway, would mean the news was so scary they wanted to make sure I was locked in a private room so they could help me through the ordeal.
For the past week, I've tried not to think about getting my results today. And I almost completely forgot to call. But I called the results line and gave them my number, and now I was sitting at my desk waiting to hear...whatever. I stopped breathing while I waited for the results. And, after two hours - okay, 30 seconds - but it felt like two hours, I was told that my results were negative.
I exhaled deeply and said, "thank you." I hung up the phone and closed my eyes and tried not to cry. I was relieved, but I also thought about all the men who call the results line and hear bad news. I thought about friends and past boyfriends who are HIV+, and my heart went out to them. They are strong people, and they have conquered much and survived more adversity than many of us. I only personally knew one friend who died of AIDS, and that was over a decade ago. I thought of him today too. Kerry, I hope you are at peace, and I send you much love.
Most days I wish my boyfriend would call me more often, and I wish I could lose weight, and I wish I made more money. Today, I'm just happy with things the way they are. I'm feeling really positive about being negative.
Friday, September 30, 2005
Thursday, September 29, 2005
Helpless
After five days of doing nothing for myself, I am helpless. After I landed last night in Portland, I actually thought to myself, "why am I carrying my bags through the airport? Shouldn't I be able to tip someone to do this for me?"
Mind you, I had a small gym bag and a backpack.
The first time I ordered room service at The Aladdin, my cabana boy, or whatever you call him, asked if I wanted him to pour my coffee. I looked at him as if he was joking. He wasn't. I let him know I felt pretty confident about the whole coffee pouring process in spite of some previous mishaps.
I don't think I opened a door for myself the entire time I was in Las Vegas. No cooking, no making my bed (like I ever do that anyway) and no carrying anything except for the hundred dollar bills I loaded into the slot machines.
I love room service. I have discovered the joys of eating breakfast naked on my bed. One morning I ordered breakfast from room service and the servant girl asked if I wanted her to butter my english muffin for me. Again, I thought she must be joking. Juju thinks the girl was hitting on me. Gross. Anyway, I reassured her I could just take care buttering my own muffin. When your boyfriend is away, you become used to doing things for yourself, you know.
After a few days of royal treatment in Vegas, I quickly became spoiled. I was once told by an astrologer that in a past life I was a kept man for a very wealthy Italian family. My every whim was catered to, and all I had to do was offer my services as a plaything for the family. Sometimes I believe this story of my past life may be true, because I so quickly adapt to being pampered.
On the last morning in Vegas I ordered breakfast and demanded that it be brought to my room in 20 minutes or less. Then I yelled at the maid to scrub the toilet faster and get out. I called the front desk and complained about the fact that I only had one small bottle of bath gel for my morning soak and made them bring up a case carried by the Chippendales dancers. Then I had the guys run my bath and scrub me down.
When my driver was late picking me up for the airport, I had him fired. Then I threw a fit when Hermes wouldn't open for me so I could buy a watch for Tina Turner. "This is living," I thought, as I sipped champagne in the VIP lounge of the airport.
Now I am back in Portland being treated with no respect. Don't these people know who I think I am!? Heads are gonna roll...
Mind you, I had a small gym bag and a backpack.
The first time I ordered room service at The Aladdin, my cabana boy, or whatever you call him, asked if I wanted him to pour my coffee. I looked at him as if he was joking. He wasn't. I let him know I felt pretty confident about the whole coffee pouring process in spite of some previous mishaps.
I don't think I opened a door for myself the entire time I was in Las Vegas. No cooking, no making my bed (like I ever do that anyway) and no carrying anything except for the hundred dollar bills I loaded into the slot machines.
I love room service. I have discovered the joys of eating breakfast naked on my bed. One morning I ordered breakfast from room service and the servant girl asked if I wanted her to butter my english muffin for me. Again, I thought she must be joking. Juju thinks the girl was hitting on me. Gross. Anyway, I reassured her I could just take care buttering my own muffin. When your boyfriend is away, you become used to doing things for yourself, you know.
After a few days of royal treatment in Vegas, I quickly became spoiled. I was once told by an astrologer that in a past life I was a kept man for a very wealthy Italian family. My every whim was catered to, and all I had to do was offer my services as a plaything for the family. Sometimes I believe this story of my past life may be true, because I so quickly adapt to being pampered.
On the last morning in Vegas I ordered breakfast and demanded that it be brought to my room in 20 minutes or less. Then I yelled at the maid to scrub the toilet faster and get out. I called the front desk and complained about the fact that I only had one small bottle of bath gel for my morning soak and made them bring up a case carried by the Chippendales dancers. Then I had the guys run my bath and scrub me down.
When my driver was late picking me up for the airport, I had him fired. Then I threw a fit when Hermes wouldn't open for me so I could buy a watch for Tina Turner. "This is living," I thought, as I sipped champagne in the VIP lounge of the airport.
Now I am back in Portland being treated with no respect. Don't these people know who I think I am!? Heads are gonna roll...
Sunday, September 25, 2005
Hot Toddy in Shorts
Yep. All week at this conference I will be wearing shorts.
How does a person forget to pack pants when going to Las Vegas for a four-day conference?!?
I'll tell you how. First the person, we'll call him Aloysius, goes out drinking the night before he leaves and decides to wait to pack until the next morning at 5:30 a.m. Oh, and then, as an added display of mental dexterity, the drunk person, Aloysius, also decides to spend the night with his friend. We'll call her Lola Falana. So Aloysius crashes at Lola's place and the next morning packs rapidly, making sure to bring the rope he sleeps with. He then arrives in Las Vegas with t-shirts, shorts, swimming trunks, a rope, and a pair of sandals.
Notice how I remembered the swim trunks. I spent a couple hours by the pool today enjoying the live music and the live bodybuilder also staying at my hotel. He knew he was hot so he stood up the whole time talking to his friends. He didn't want to sit down and possibly have somebody miss his glorious physique. Whatever. I enjoyed staring for a few moments, but its nothing I haven't already seen in thousands of magazines and/or at the gay bars.
Tonight at The Bellagio there was a lovely cocktail and hors-d'oeuvres reception for all the conference attendees in nice clothes and me. I actually sought out the two other guys wearing shorts and tried to get them to talk to me, but they snubbed me because, I guess, their shorts were nicer. Or it could have been my sandals. Screw 'em, I have a tan and they are sweaty in their long pants. I don't need more friends anyway.
The only other person who would talk to me at the conference tonight was the lady with arthritic feet who was trying to figure out the shortest distance to her room from the conference hall. Iwalked shuffled with her because she appreciated my help and didn't look down on me because of my shorts.
I'm only down $103 and my bathroom has a sunken tub. The fountains at The Bellagio made me cry tonight. More on that later.
How does a person forget to pack pants when going to Las Vegas for a four-day conference?!?
I'll tell you how. First the person, we'll call him Aloysius, goes out drinking the night before he leaves and decides to wait to pack until the next morning at 5:30 a.m. Oh, and then, as an added display of mental dexterity, the drunk person, Aloysius, also decides to spend the night with his friend. We'll call her Lola Falana. So Aloysius crashes at Lola's place and the next morning packs rapidly, making sure to bring the rope he sleeps with. He then arrives in Las Vegas with t-shirts, shorts, swimming trunks, a rope, and a pair of sandals.
Notice how I remembered the swim trunks. I spent a couple hours by the pool today enjoying the live music and the live bodybuilder also staying at my hotel. He knew he was hot so he stood up the whole time talking to his friends. He didn't want to sit down and possibly have somebody miss his glorious physique. Whatever. I enjoyed staring for a few moments, but its nothing I haven't already seen in thousands of magazines and/or at the gay bars.
Tonight at The Bellagio there was a lovely cocktail and hors-d'oeuvres reception for all the conference attendees in nice clothes and me. I actually sought out the two other guys wearing shorts and tried to get them to talk to me, but they snubbed me because, I guess, their shorts were nicer. Or it could have been my sandals. Screw 'em, I have a tan and they are sweaty in their long pants. I don't need more friends anyway.
The only other person who would talk to me at the conference tonight was the lady with arthritic feet who was trying to figure out the shortest distance to her room from the conference hall. I
I'm only down $103 and my bathroom has a sunken tub. The fountains at The Bellagio made me cry tonight. More on that later.
Friday, September 23, 2005
Great Stove
Not to be outdone by Jaden, my BFF, I needed to see where I rank in the world. Incidentally, Jaden wrote the most brilliant post on lettuce spines. It made me jealous, and now I want to be her.
Enough about her, let's talk about me.
Can I just say how proud I am to be listed at Greatstoves.com right between a recipe for Quick Garlic Cheese Biscuits and an article of Toaster Oven reviews?
I am also the number three entry on Yourovensguide.info under the ovens index.
At this time I would like to apologize to all the Nebraska grandmothers who came here looking for the perfect Christmas gift and instead found me. I know you must be mortified by what you've read here, Mildred, Beatrice, and Sylvia. Just be thankful we're not related.
Oh, and to make sure you don't leave empty-handed, Bernice and Myrtle, I recommend the Oster Inspire.
It is fascinating to see how people discover Hot Toddy's Toaster Oven. My boyfriend still googles in order to find this blog. Today he found me by Googling this. He's so cute. Note that he searched using all capital letters, WHICH IS HIS TRADEMARK BECAUSE HE HAS SUCH A DEEP SEXY VOICE.
Off to Vegas! See you next week...
Enough about her, let's talk about me.
Can I just say how proud I am to be listed at Greatstoves.com right between a recipe for Quick Garlic Cheese Biscuits and an article of Toaster Oven reviews?
I am also the number three entry on Yourovensguide.info under the ovens index.
At this time I would like to apologize to all the Nebraska grandmothers who came here looking for the perfect Christmas gift and instead found me. I know you must be mortified by what you've read here, Mildred, Beatrice, and Sylvia. Just be thankful we're not related.
Oh, and to make sure you don't leave empty-handed, Bernice and Myrtle, I recommend the Oster Inspire.
It is fascinating to see how people discover Hot Toddy's Toaster Oven. My boyfriend still googles in order to find this blog. Today he found me by Googling this. He's so cute. Note that he searched using all capital letters, WHICH IS HIS TRADEMARK BECAUSE HE HAS SUCH A DEEP SEXY VOICE.
Off to Vegas! See you next week...
Wednesday, September 21, 2005
Hey, you...
Yeah, you. The guy who stole my heart. I want you to know you've stamped your soul and your blue eyes and your enormous laugh into the center of my being. I hear your name in my head over and over. I love your name so much - the way it is spelled, the way it sounds coming from my mouth, the uniqueness of it.
I can still imagine your smell. The shirt of yours that I sleep with has lost your scent, but my memory is strong. Oh, and I also bought the same body wash that you use, so maybe that's part of why I can still smell you.
When I miss you, I feel weak. But I am really doing pretty well, all things considered. I just wish I could tell you every single day that I love you so much. As you said, even if I suddenly lost the power of speech, you'd still know I love you and would never need to hear me say it again.
Remember that one afternoon when we looked through a box of your old cards and letters? You let me read some pretty personal stuff. Then I handed you my journal and said you could open it up and read any entry you wanted. That's the day you found out about a secret encounter I had with - well, you know. I was embarrassed, because I had never told you about him and I. But you just laughed at me and kept reading with a big smile on your face. I loved you even more after that moment.
Later that afternoon, you grabbed me and said we were going out to clean our cars. While you cleaned out your truck, I moaned and groaned about having to clean my car for the first time in, like, years. But when we finished, I felt so great. Thank you for making me do that.
Today I am missing your sexy forearms. I would love to fall asleep feeling the hair of your forearm next to my cheek. I miss everything about you, but that's what I'm remembering at this moment.
You're the most unique man I have ever met. I feel crazy quoting Dionne Warwick, but I really do know I'll never love this way again. I will see you soon, baby, but not soon enough!
I know where I stand in your heart. You know where you stand in mine. I miss you.
I can still imagine your smell. The shirt of yours that I sleep with has lost your scent, but my memory is strong. Oh, and I also bought the same body wash that you use, so maybe that's part of why I can still smell you.
When I miss you, I feel weak. But I am really doing pretty well, all things considered. I just wish I could tell you every single day that I love you so much. As you said, even if I suddenly lost the power of speech, you'd still know I love you and would never need to hear me say it again.
Remember that one afternoon when we looked through a box of your old cards and letters? You let me read some pretty personal stuff. Then I handed you my journal and said you could open it up and read any entry you wanted. That's the day you found out about a secret encounter I had with - well, you know. I was embarrassed, because I had never told you about him and I. But you just laughed at me and kept reading with a big smile on your face. I loved you even more after that moment.
Later that afternoon, you grabbed me and said we were going out to clean our cars. While you cleaned out your truck, I moaned and groaned about having to clean my car for the first time in, like, years. But when we finished, I felt so great. Thank you for making me do that.
Today I am missing your sexy forearms. I would love to fall asleep feeling the hair of your forearm next to my cheek. I miss everything about you, but that's what I'm remembering at this moment.
You're the most unique man I have ever met. I feel crazy quoting Dionne Warwick, but I really do know I'll never love this way again. I will see you soon, baby, but not soon enough!
I know where I stand in your heart. You know where you stand in mine. I miss you.
Tuesday, September 20, 2005
To Drug or Not to Drug?
That really has been the question lately. Should I be on medication?
In spite of the way I have been feeling lately (uninspired, lonely, sad, lethargic, lost) I have decided not to drug. I have decided I need to feel right now, even if the feelings are unpleasant.
Life can sometimes be dark. While it is wonderful to dream about spending the rest of my life with my boyfriend, it doesn't take away the pain of being away from him now. Thor and I have definite plans to see each other, and the day can't come soon enough. But I'm still here in the uncertain present, and no amount of hope for the future seems to make this easier.
There are some people who take pleasure in seeing me this way. They gloat and enjoy seeing me lonely. It sounds horrible, but I know it is true. They have let me know this. While I am sad, I am also incredibly happy. I am sad because I am in love and can't be with my man. So, people can gloat all they want. I'm still in love with a guy who loves me more than I have ever been loved in my life.
I'm not down for the count. I'm being underestimated, and my strength is surprising. I have friends who would fall apart if their boyfriend or girlfriend didn't call for a couple days. Don't get me wrong, I hate it when I don't hear from Thor, but I am not falling apart. We usually talk every couple days. One weekend we talked two or three times a day. Always, the time in between talks feels too long. It feels too long. Feeling, feeling, feeling. I sure am feeling a lot. I could turn it off with a drug, and its tempting. But I still think it is good to feel. Even if you feel rotten.
This is possibly the most disjointed and confusing post ever written. Writing doesn't come easily lately. Too many eyes probing and making assumptions about me based on what they read. No, this isn't about the comments from a couple days ago. This is about real-life people making real-life comments to my real-life face. I feel judged lately, and judged harshly.
If you are a friend who reads the blog and doesn't judge and shares kind encouraging words with me, you can thank Thor that I'm still here writing. Thor asked me to keep blogging when I felt like stopping a few weeks ago. "That's your thing, baby, you can't stop..." Also, he wants to know what is going on with me while we're apart, so in a way I am doing this for him. Sometimes when you love someone, you do things you don't feel like doing.
When I can't be funny, or when people complain to me that I don't write about their lives in my blog (yes, it actually happened), or when I know my words are read by people who think I need to get a grip or get a life or get a clue, it makes it hard to keep going. One person complained to me recently that he didn't like the way he was being "portrayed" in my blog. Um, sorry, this isn't a screenplay. If it were it would be the most boring horrible movie in the world. Trust me, I know Hot Toddy's Toaster Oven has seen better days. But this blog wasn't started to impress anybody. I write about my reality. Sometimes that reality is seen through drunken CC Slaughtered eyes (thanks, Jades) or through lesbian song lyrics (thanks, Thor).
Back to my point. (Did I have one?) I don't want to drug myself. (Okay, maybe a whiskey or two) I have never taken medication for ADD because I'm afraid it would dull my mind or diminish creative thought. I don't want to take medication for depression, because I think I'm supposed to be sad right now. And I think I am supposed to write about it, too, so its okay if you don't want to read this blog anymore. I promise I won't be hurt. Or maybe you'll just keep coming back to gloat. Do what you want, I can't stop you. I'll have some really great news to share soon, and you'll be irritated that things are going well for me again.
In spite of the way I have been feeling lately (uninspired, lonely, sad, lethargic, lost) I have decided not to drug. I have decided I need to feel right now, even if the feelings are unpleasant.
Life can sometimes be dark. While it is wonderful to dream about spending the rest of my life with my boyfriend, it doesn't take away the pain of being away from him now. Thor and I have definite plans to see each other, and the day can't come soon enough. But I'm still here in the uncertain present, and no amount of hope for the future seems to make this easier.
There are some people who take pleasure in seeing me this way. They gloat and enjoy seeing me lonely. It sounds horrible, but I know it is true. They have let me know this. While I am sad, I am also incredibly happy. I am sad because I am in love and can't be with my man. So, people can gloat all they want. I'm still in love with a guy who loves me more than I have ever been loved in my life.
I'm not down for the count. I'm being underestimated, and my strength is surprising. I have friends who would fall apart if their boyfriend or girlfriend didn't call for a couple days. Don't get me wrong, I hate it when I don't hear from Thor, but I am not falling apart. We usually talk every couple days. One weekend we talked two or three times a day. Always, the time in between talks feels too long. It feels too long. Feeling, feeling, feeling. I sure am feeling a lot. I could turn it off with a drug, and its tempting. But I still think it is good to feel. Even if you feel rotten.
This is possibly the most disjointed and confusing post ever written. Writing doesn't come easily lately. Too many eyes probing and making assumptions about me based on what they read. No, this isn't about the comments from a couple days ago. This is about real-life people making real-life comments to my real-life face. I feel judged lately, and judged harshly.
If you are a friend who reads the blog and doesn't judge and shares kind encouraging words with me, you can thank Thor that I'm still here writing. Thor asked me to keep blogging when I felt like stopping a few weeks ago. "That's your thing, baby, you can't stop..." Also, he wants to know what is going on with me while we're apart, so in a way I am doing this for him. Sometimes when you love someone, you do things you don't feel like doing.
When I can't be funny, or when people complain to me that I don't write about their lives in my blog (yes, it actually happened), or when I know my words are read by people who think I need to get a grip or get a life or get a clue, it makes it hard to keep going. One person complained to me recently that he didn't like the way he was being "portrayed" in my blog. Um, sorry, this isn't a screenplay. If it were it would be the most boring horrible movie in the world. Trust me, I know Hot Toddy's Toaster Oven has seen better days. But this blog wasn't started to impress anybody. I write about my reality. Sometimes that reality is seen through drunken CC Slaughtered eyes (thanks, Jades) or through lesbian song lyrics (thanks, Thor).
Back to my point. (Did I have one?) I don't want to drug myself. (Okay, maybe a whiskey or two) I have never taken medication for ADD because I'm afraid it would dull my mind or diminish creative thought. I don't want to take medication for depression, because I think I'm supposed to be sad right now. And I think I am supposed to write about it, too, so its okay if you don't want to read this blog anymore. I promise I won't be hurt. Or maybe you'll just keep coming back to gloat. Do what you want, I can't stop you. I'll have some really great news to share soon, and you'll be irritated that things are going well for me again.
Monday, September 19, 2005
Hot Toddy Gets Irritated
So, I get back to my blog after a couple days off and find that things have been pretty crazy! Cruella DeVille left a bunch of mean comments, told lies, and hated on everybody. Then people jumped to my defense. Then I deleted Cruella's ridiculous statements. But do you know what the most irritating thing is??
WTF was up with that Emmy Idol television theme segment last night!? Ridiculous.
Maybe it is because the last time I watched an awards show I was safe in the arms of the man I love. Or maybe I'm irritated because there was not enough Ellen last night. I expected the producers to utilize her talents to make the show hilarious, but, alas, she was almost a minor player in the show that should have been hers.
But back to the theme song "contest". Of course Donald Trump in overalls singing the theme from Green Acres with Megan Mullally won. Donald Trump in overalls is comedy gold, dontchaknow. But if we never hear the theme song from Fame again, it will be too soon. I liked the rendition of The Jeffersons, but nobody wore overalls (that would be racist, wouldn't it?) and the Star Trek theme was just awful. William Shatner teamed up with, I guess, the woman who played Captain Kirk in the original series (I'm not Trekkanese; I have no idea).
So some random ignoramus leaves mean comments and spreads lies. That's a minor irritant that can be swatted away like a pesky gnat. But American Idol ripoffs on the Emmy Awards? Now that is something to get irritated about!
WTF was up with that Emmy Idol television theme segment last night!? Ridiculous.
Maybe it is because the last time I watched an awards show I was safe in the arms of the man I love. Or maybe I'm irritated because there was not enough Ellen last night. I expected the producers to utilize her talents to make the show hilarious, but, alas, she was almost a minor player in the show that should have been hers.
But back to the theme song "contest". Of course Donald Trump in overalls singing the theme from Green Acres with Megan Mullally won. Donald Trump in overalls is comedy gold, dontchaknow. But if we never hear the theme song from Fame again, it will be too soon. I liked the rendition of The Jeffersons, but nobody wore overalls (that would be racist, wouldn't it?) and the Star Trek theme was just awful. William Shatner teamed up with, I guess, the woman who played Captain Kirk in the original series (I'm not Trekkanese; I have no idea).
So some random ignoramus leaves mean comments and spreads lies. That's a minor irritant that can be swatted away like a pesky gnat. But American Idol ripoffs on the Emmy Awards? Now that is something to get irritated about!
Thursday, September 15, 2005
Is it Just Me?
Did anybody else receive a strange anonymous e-mail from someone spewing hatred about right-handed people with fair hair? The message I received yesterday seemed like it was written by someone on drugs. Someone who hates blondes. This person also said they wouldn't marry me, much to my chagrin. They also employed the standard courteous closing, "You can run, but you can't hide..."
Was it spam? Was it real hate mail?
Whoever you are, anonymous spammer and/or hate mailer, I just wanted to clarify that I can, indeed, run. However I don't feel like it because the ice falls out of my vodka tonic when I run.
Oh, and I stopped hiding years ago and don't plan on doing it ever again.
Was it spam? Was it real hate mail?
Whoever you are, anonymous spammer and/or hate mailer, I just wanted to clarify that I can, indeed, run. However I don't feel like it because the ice falls out of my vodka tonic when I run.
Oh, and I stopped hiding years ago and don't plan on doing it ever again.
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
Train Song
Train Song
Mindy Smith
I've been listening
For those metal wheels
To come scraping across that
Old rusty track
And I'm just wondering, I need to ask
Is my sweet man on that train
And I've been waiting
For the whistle to sound
Like a ghost on the highland
Howling proud
And I'm just wondering, I'll ask again
Is my sweet man coming back
Everything inside me
Is aching for you now
Every minute given
I'm just waiting for your love
I'm just wondering, I need to ask
Is my sweet man on his way
And I've been crying
Trying to make sense
Of all this shit
He left me to tend
And I'm just wondering, I'll ask again
Is my sweet man on that train
Everything inside me
Is aching for you now
Every minute given
I'm just waiting for your love
I'm just wondering, I need to ask
Is my sweet man on that train
I'm just wondering, I need to ask
Is my sweet man on that train
Today marks four months since Thor called to ask me out. Best phone call ever. I love you, Thor!
Mindy Smith
I've been listening
For those metal wheels
To come scraping across that
Old rusty track
And I'm just wondering, I need to ask
Is my sweet man on that train
And I've been waiting
For the whistle to sound
Like a ghost on the highland
Howling proud
And I'm just wondering, I'll ask again
Is my sweet man coming back
Everything inside me
Is aching for you now
Every minute given
I'm just waiting for your love
I'm just wondering, I need to ask
Is my sweet man on his way
And I've been crying
Trying to make sense
Of all this shit
He left me to tend
And I'm just wondering, I'll ask again
Is my sweet man on that train
Everything inside me
Is aching for you now
Every minute given
I'm just waiting for your love
I'm just wondering, I need to ask
Is my sweet man on that train
I'm just wondering, I need to ask
Is my sweet man on that train
Today marks four months since Thor called to ask me out. Best phone call ever. I love you, Thor!
Monday, September 12, 2005
Vegas Dreams
In a couple weeks, I'm heading to Las Vegas for a conference. Although I realize the worst odds are at the slot machines, I still enjoy playing them more than anything else at the casino. That's probably a Pavlovian response to the $1100 I won (off a $1.00 bet) at the Cherries Jubilee slots at the MGM Grand in 1996.
Last night I had a dream that I was at the Cashier's window buying some chips. I had a huge wad of money in my hands - all singles and five dollar bills. I didn't feel like counting the money before buying chips, so I just pretended to count it so the cashier would think I knew how much she owed me. After flipping through the bills, I shoved the whole wad at the cashier and just waited to see how much I'd get back in chips.
I really wish Juju were going with me on this trip to keep an eye on me. We both put in requests to go, but I guess they only approved my attendance since she is such a slacker at work.
If you know of anything I simply must do or see in Vegas, please let me know. Otherwise, I will probably not venture beyond the slot machines.
Last night I had a dream that I was at the Cashier's window buying some chips. I had a huge wad of money in my hands - all singles and five dollar bills. I didn't feel like counting the money before buying chips, so I just pretended to count it so the cashier would think I knew how much she owed me. After flipping through the bills, I shoved the whole wad at the cashier and just waited to see how much I'd get back in chips.
I really wish Juju were going with me on this trip to keep an eye on me. We both put in requests to go, but I guess they only approved my attendance since she is such a slacker at work.
If you know of anything I simply must do or see in Vegas, please let me know. Otherwise, I will probably not venture beyond the slot machines.
Friday, September 09, 2005
Hot Toddy & The Volkswagen
Last night after happy hour I received a call from Auburn Pisces demanding that I go back to CC Slaughters and turn in my credit card receipt. I had accidentally kept both copies when I signed my receipt. Why did CC Slaughters call Auburn Pisces? How did they get her number? These are questions shared by many. Questions I am unable to answer.
So, after a phone call with Katehopeeden last night, I drove back to CC's with my receipt in hand. During the phone call, I bragged to K about the fact that I never have to get out of the car at the gas station because we're not allowed to pump our own gas in Oregon. Moments later, the gas station attendant told me I had to go pay inside since the computer was down. K was laughing at me. She heard the whole exchange between me and the attendant and mocked me for my lazy pride.
I did not plan on staying at CC's. But between Auburn Pisces waving me over and seeing The Hot Toddtender, and running into an intoxicated Pony, I knew I had to have at least one or two drinks.
All of a sudden, I saw him. The guy in the Superman shirt. He wasn't actually wearing the Superman shirt at the time, but I recognized him from a bout of lust I experienced several months earlier when he had the big S on his chest and his arms begged to be groped. He is muscular and has Mario Lopez dimples. His arms are round and bulging, and his chest is firm. He is built sort of like a Volkswagen.
After we spoke for a few moments, the VW began touching me. Lightly at first, and then rubbing my back, and then reaching for more personal areas. The VW quickly figured out that I have a thing for biceps. Maybe it is because I kept glancing at his biteable arms. As I told VW about my boyfriend, he flexed for me and let me feel his rock-hard muscles. I muttered to myself, "Thor, Thor, Thor, Thor, Thor...", but I kept squeezing those smooth tan arms. He opened his shirt and I felt his chest. I knew I was going to be in trouble if I kept this up.
I was invited to the VW's home for a private viewing of his assets. I declined. He moved toward me to kiss me. I turned my head away. A friend remarked that I was sweating heavily. Auburn Pisces mouthed the words, "Do you need rescuing?" I shook my head.
The VW continued strutting and flirting and inviting me to his garage - er - house. I told him that I loved my boyfriend very much. Now, Thor is not threatened by other guys. He once told me that I had his permission to do "whatever you need to do while I'm gone", and yet, when faced with an opportunity to have some fun, I just can't. I know I would feel miserable afterwards.
VW wasn't discouraged by my talking about Thor. He continued with his attentions even after I showed him a picture on my cell phone of Thor and I kissing. "So, you can just call me Thor," he said.
"I'm in love with the man, not the name," I answered.
VW finally gave up. I sat and talked to one of his friends for a while. A really cool guy who asked me lots of questions about my relationship and seemed genuinely interested. Then my phone rang, and it was Thor. Running outside (okay, so maybe I skipped. Shut up. He makes me happy) I began telling Thor all about my night. When I got to the part about my muscular new acquaintance, Thor said, "Well, I hope you felt his biceps at least!"
I told him that I had, indeed, allowed myself this indulgence. He was less comfortable with the idea of VW trying to kiss me, but he seemed happy that I had not given in to the temptation. I've never known Thor to be jealous, and sometimes I wish he would be just a teeny tiny bit jealous. It would make me feel kind of good.
Thor's anger was aroused when I mentioned that VW said I could call him "Thor" if it meant he'd get to take me home. Thor said that if this guy continued messing with me, he would come back to Portland and kick his ass.
I responded without missing a beat, "Get up here! He's trying to pull my pants off right now!" Thor laughed and told me he loved me. Then he admitted that he felt jealous and that he was surprised by his own feelings. We talked about the fact that I'm often viewed by others as "relationship material".
"He's not like you and me, Toddy. He's trying to use you," said Thor. I let Thor know that, whether or not VW was really looking for love or just a hook-up, Thor had absolutely nothing to worry about.
We talked some more and laughed. For a change, neither of us cried. We remembered the nights after drinking at CC's when we would go to his place and climb into bed and hold each other. We talked about how much we miss those typical Thursday nights.
Thor asked me to go give the doorman, J, at CC's a hug and kiss from him. I complied. J seemed a bit embarrassed, but I know he could feel the love from Thor and me.
We finished our talk, I hung up, and my heart jumped up and down inside my chest. "Thor called! Thor called! Thor called!" I love this man so much.
I went back inside, and I noticed that VW had moved on to other targets. I finished my second or third Maker's Mark (Okay, you were right Tim the Toddtender, I will never close my tab after just one drink)and left the bar. I went home feeling proud of myself for practicing self-control. I also went home feeling incredibly lucky to have Thor's heart, his trust, and just a teeny tiny bit of his jealousy.
So, after a phone call with Katehopeeden last night, I drove back to CC's with my receipt in hand. During the phone call, I bragged to K about the fact that I never have to get out of the car at the gas station because we're not allowed to pump our own gas in Oregon. Moments later, the gas station attendant told me I had to go pay inside since the computer was down. K was laughing at me. She heard the whole exchange between me and the attendant and mocked me for my lazy pride.
I did not plan on staying at CC's. But between Auburn Pisces waving me over and seeing The Hot Toddtender, and running into an intoxicated Pony, I knew I had to have at least one or two drinks.
All of a sudden, I saw him. The guy in the Superman shirt. He wasn't actually wearing the Superman shirt at the time, but I recognized him from a bout of lust I experienced several months earlier when he had the big S on his chest and his arms begged to be groped. He is muscular and has Mario Lopez dimples. His arms are round and bulging, and his chest is firm. He is built sort of like a Volkswagen.
After we spoke for a few moments, the VW began touching me. Lightly at first, and then rubbing my back, and then reaching for more personal areas. The VW quickly figured out that I have a thing for biceps. Maybe it is because I kept glancing at his biteable arms. As I told VW about my boyfriend, he flexed for me and let me feel his rock-hard muscles. I muttered to myself, "Thor, Thor, Thor, Thor, Thor...", but I kept squeezing those smooth tan arms. He opened his shirt and I felt his chest. I knew I was going to be in trouble if I kept this up.
I was invited to the VW's home for a private viewing of his assets. I declined. He moved toward me to kiss me. I turned my head away. A friend remarked that I was sweating heavily. Auburn Pisces mouthed the words, "Do you need rescuing?" I shook my head.
The VW continued strutting and flirting and inviting me to his garage - er - house. I told him that I loved my boyfriend very much. Now, Thor is not threatened by other guys. He once told me that I had his permission to do "whatever you need to do while I'm gone", and yet, when faced with an opportunity to have some fun, I just can't. I know I would feel miserable afterwards.
VW wasn't discouraged by my talking about Thor. He continued with his attentions even after I showed him a picture on my cell phone of Thor and I kissing. "So, you can just call me Thor," he said.
"I'm in love with the man, not the name," I answered.
VW finally gave up. I sat and talked to one of his friends for a while. A really cool guy who asked me lots of questions about my relationship and seemed genuinely interested. Then my phone rang, and it was Thor. Running outside (okay, so maybe I skipped. Shut up. He makes me happy) I began telling Thor all about my night. When I got to the part about my muscular new acquaintance, Thor said, "Well, I hope you felt his biceps at least!"
I told him that I had, indeed, allowed myself this indulgence. He was less comfortable with the idea of VW trying to kiss me, but he seemed happy that I had not given in to the temptation. I've never known Thor to be jealous, and sometimes I wish he would be just a teeny tiny bit jealous. It would make me feel kind of good.
Thor's anger was aroused when I mentioned that VW said I could call him "Thor" if it meant he'd get to take me home. Thor said that if this guy continued messing with me, he would come back to Portland and kick his ass.
I responded without missing a beat, "Get up here! He's trying to pull my pants off right now!" Thor laughed and told me he loved me. Then he admitted that he felt jealous and that he was surprised by his own feelings. We talked about the fact that I'm often viewed by others as "relationship material".
"He's not like you and me, Toddy. He's trying to use you," said Thor. I let Thor know that, whether or not VW was really looking for love or just a hook-up, Thor had absolutely nothing to worry about.
We talked some more and laughed. For a change, neither of us cried. We remembered the nights after drinking at CC's when we would go to his place and climb into bed and hold each other. We talked about how much we miss those typical Thursday nights.
Thor asked me to go give the doorman, J, at CC's a hug and kiss from him. I complied. J seemed a bit embarrassed, but I know he could feel the love from Thor and me.
We finished our talk, I hung up, and my heart jumped up and down inside my chest. "Thor called! Thor called! Thor called!" I love this man so much.
I went back inside, and I noticed that VW had moved on to other targets. I finished my second or third Maker's Mark (Okay, you were right Tim the Toddtender, I will never close my tab after just one drink)and left the bar. I went home feeling proud of myself for practicing self-control. I also went home feeling incredibly lucky to have Thor's heart, his trust, and just a teeny tiny bit of his jealousy.
Thursday, September 08, 2005
One Moment More
The other day Kiks sent me a link to the greatest song, One Moment More, by Mindy Smith. He thought of this song after reading my post, The Final Countdown.
What an amazing song, and it expresses exactly how we both felt on that last morning together. And, Kiks, you couldn't know this, but we saw a shooting star on our last evening together. It crossed the sky the moment I told Thor that I loved him.
If you can't play the video link above for some reason, here are the lyrics.
Thor, if you are reading this, make sure you have your rum and coke handy before listening to the song! And thank you, Kiks!
It's not like everything about my life sucks. For example, since I am not looking for a boyfriend, I can eat a messy breakfast burrito at my desk, and it doesn't even matter if a hot guy comes over to talk to me about work and sees me stuffing food into my mouth while salsa drips off my chin.
What an amazing song, and it expresses exactly how we both felt on that last morning together. And, Kiks, you couldn't know this, but we saw a shooting star on our last evening together. It crossed the sky the moment I told Thor that I loved him.
If you can't play the video link above for some reason, here are the lyrics.
Thor, if you are reading this, make sure you have your rum and coke handy before listening to the song! And thank you, Kiks!
It's not like everything about my life sucks. For example, since I am not looking for a boyfriend, I can eat a messy breakfast burrito at my desk, and it doesn't even matter if a hot guy comes over to talk to me about work and sees me stuffing food into my mouth while salsa drips off my chin.
Wednesday, September 07, 2005
Fear Factor
To fully get where I'm coming from today, you should first read Juju's post, Scaredy Cat. (No, I'm not calling you a scaredy cat. That's the name of the post. Stop being so sensitive.)
Then you should read Auburn Pisces' response to Juju.
I suppose by further commenting on fear in relationships, I am helping to create a meme of sorts. Rather than a list of favorite music, this is more of a touchy feely meme. And it's not the kind of meme you would want to "tag" someone with, but if you have thoughts on the matter, I'd love for you to send me an e-mail or leave a comment and let me know you're continuing the discussion on your blog.
Juju is more in touch with herself - wait, let me start that over. Juju knows herself and is capable of great insight when it comes to her own issues and the issues of her friends. Auburn Pisces is focused and very skilled at cutting through to the heart of the matter. Having friends like Aub and Juju is the main reason I haven't yet been institutionalized.
That said, I'm experiencing a different sort of fear than either of my friends. One friend sometimes worries that she won't find her true love. Another worries that the true love she has found will force her to change into someone she despises.
My fear right now is that my hope for a future with Thor will be deferred or, worse, never fully realized. I fear that every day we spend apart will cause us to slowly forget or become numb to all that we shared. Before he left he told me that he could spend three months, one for each month we had in Portland, thinking about all the great times we had. Now that we are approaching one month apart, I'm wondering how long it will be until we can make more memories. I'm desperate to keep restocking. I don't want to run out of memories. Ever!
Vanity is at the heart of one of my biggest fears. I fear that I will end up looking foolish if this doesn't work out. (Sorry, Thor, I know you constantly tell me I'm crazy for doubting, but I have to admit I sometimes feel anxious about our surviving The Interruption.) Not every love survives, and sometimes we don't get to end up with the one who makes our heart sing. If my dreams of a future with you don't come to fruition, I worry that I will fall apart. I worry that I just won't be able to get back up again and won't even want to try. The vanity inherent in worrying about what others might think of my failure to survive a long-distance relationship is ridiculous.
As my friends fall in love, move in together, marry, buy houses, have children, etc., I worry that I am going to be left behind. I told Thor that I am having a hard time waiting for him to return while other relationships are moving forward. I'm on hold listening to muzak. In a month I'll be 39! I feel too old to wait. I feel like time is running out. (Good lord, you'd think I have some kind of biological clock of my own ticking away the moments of my remaining life.)
Kent, my friend, as you said to me in an e-mail today, "I realize that I am responsible for my own happiness..." and I guess that we are also responsible for our own fears. I think by expressing our fears, we can better manage them. By being honest with our "darker" thoughts, we can more effectively express the joyful feelings that come along too.
What are we so afraid of? It's just life!
Then you should read Auburn Pisces' response to Juju.
I suppose by further commenting on fear in relationships, I am helping to create a meme of sorts. Rather than a list of favorite music, this is more of a touchy feely meme. And it's not the kind of meme you would want to "tag" someone with, but if you have thoughts on the matter, I'd love for you to send me an e-mail or leave a comment and let me know you're continuing the discussion on your blog.
Juju is more in touch with herself - wait, let me start that over. Juju knows herself and is capable of great insight when it comes to her own issues and the issues of her friends. Auburn Pisces is focused and very skilled at cutting through to the heart of the matter. Having friends like Aub and Juju is the main reason I haven't yet been institutionalized.
That said, I'm experiencing a different sort of fear than either of my friends. One friend sometimes worries that she won't find her true love. Another worries that the true love she has found will force her to change into someone she despises.
My fear right now is that my hope for a future with Thor will be deferred or, worse, never fully realized. I fear that every day we spend apart will cause us to slowly forget or become numb to all that we shared. Before he left he told me that he could spend three months, one for each month we had in Portland, thinking about all the great times we had. Now that we are approaching one month apart, I'm wondering how long it will be until we can make more memories. I'm desperate to keep restocking. I don't want to run out of memories. Ever!
Vanity is at the heart of one of my biggest fears. I fear that I will end up looking foolish if this doesn't work out. (Sorry, Thor, I know you constantly tell me I'm crazy for doubting, but I have to admit I sometimes feel anxious about our surviving The Interruption.) Not every love survives, and sometimes we don't get to end up with the one who makes our heart sing. If my dreams of a future with you don't come to fruition, I worry that I will fall apart. I worry that I just won't be able to get back up again and won't even want to try. The vanity inherent in worrying about what others might think of my failure to survive a long-distance relationship is ridiculous.
As my friends fall in love, move in together, marry, buy houses, have children, etc., I worry that I am going to be left behind. I told Thor that I am having a hard time waiting for him to return while other relationships are moving forward. I'm on hold listening to muzak. In a month I'll be 39! I feel too old to wait. I feel like time is running out. (Good lord, you'd think I have some kind of biological clock of my own ticking away the moments of my remaining life.)
Kent, my friend, as you said to me in an e-mail today, "I realize that I am responsible for my own happiness..." and I guess that we are also responsible for our own fears. I think by expressing our fears, we can better manage them. By being honest with our "darker" thoughts, we can more effectively express the joyful feelings that come along too.
What are we so afraid of? It's just life!
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
Hot Toddy, Mystery Solver
On Sunday I called Thor at noon. "Someone's at the door, I'll call you right back," he said.
He didn't call me right back. I still hadn't heard from him at 1:00. Then 2:00 came and went with no word from him. 3:00, 4:00, 5:00 - still no call.
Around 6:00 I decided that he was on his way to Portland to surprise me. I figured the person at the door must be his ride to the airport, and that he was just waiting to call me back until he was at my front door. It would be the best surprise ever.
At 7:00, I decided his flight was delayed. By 9:00, I had abandoned hope of a surprise Labor Day visit from my boyfriend.
At 10:00, I climbed into bed to read. I was fuming at Thor for not calling back.
At 11:30, I turned off the light. My phone rang a couple minutes later.
"Honey, I have had the worst day," Thor told me. He then described a very chaotic day, and I understood why he hadn't called. I admitted to him that I had convinced myself he was on his way to surprise me. He laughed when I explained my theory of his surprise visit to Portland.
"Why do you do that? Why do you create stories in your head, Toddy?" he asked me.
"You always said I was like Nancy Drew. When something doesn't make sense to me, I try to solve the mystery," I replied.
"Toddy, I'm not sure you're really Nancy Drew after all. When Nancy Drew solves a mystery, she is usually right," Thor said.
I admitted that he had a point. I can create some pretty fantastic scenarios sometimes as I attempt to piece together evidence.
Thor laughed on the other end of the phone as he told me, "I think you are more like the Brady Bunch kids if they were trying to solve a mystery."
He knows me so well.
He didn't call me right back. I still hadn't heard from him at 1:00. Then 2:00 came and went with no word from him. 3:00, 4:00, 5:00 - still no call.
Around 6:00 I decided that he was on his way to Portland to surprise me. I figured the person at the door must be his ride to the airport, and that he was just waiting to call me back until he was at my front door. It would be the best surprise ever.
At 7:00, I decided his flight was delayed. By 9:00, I had abandoned hope of a surprise Labor Day visit from my boyfriend.
At 10:00, I climbed into bed to read. I was fuming at Thor for not calling back.
At 11:30, I turned off the light. My phone rang a couple minutes later.
"Honey, I have had the worst day," Thor told me. He then described a very chaotic day, and I understood why he hadn't called. I admitted to him that I had convinced myself he was on his way to surprise me. He laughed when I explained my theory of his surprise visit to Portland.
"Why do you do that? Why do you create stories in your head, Toddy?" he asked me.
"You always said I was like Nancy Drew. When something doesn't make sense to me, I try to solve the mystery," I replied.
"Toddy, I'm not sure you're really Nancy Drew after all. When Nancy Drew solves a mystery, she is usually right," Thor said.
I admitted that he had a point. I can create some pretty fantastic scenarios sometimes as I attempt to piece together evidence.
Thor laughed on the other end of the phone as he told me, "I think you are more like the Brady Bunch kids if they were trying to solve a mystery."
He knows me so well.
Separation
Your absence has gone through me
Like thread through a needle.
Everything I do is stitched with its color.
-- W.S. Merwin
This time apart from Thor has not diminished me or left a hole in me. His absence from my daily life has, however, colored my world with a different shade.
It is remarkable how differently we are both responding to the situation. He's working harder, sleeping less and becoming more impulsive. I'm distracted at work, sleeping more and reading books.
This weekend I went hiking. This weekend Thor had his nipples pierced. (Don't think I didn't start salivating the minute I heard that. My tongue goes with nipple piercings like chocolate goes with peanut butter.)
It will be interesting to come back together and observe the way our separation has colored our worlds. I'm fortunate to be in a relationship that is being tested in its early stages. What I've learned so far is that absence does make the heart grow fonder, we still make each other laugh, and, so far, the sky hasn't fallen.
Like thread through a needle.
Everything I do is stitched with its color.
-- W.S. Merwin
This time apart from Thor has not diminished me or left a hole in me. His absence from my daily life has, however, colored my world with a different shade.
It is remarkable how differently we are both responding to the situation. He's working harder, sleeping less and becoming more impulsive. I'm distracted at work, sleeping more and reading books.
This weekend I went hiking. This weekend Thor had his nipples pierced. (Don't think I didn't start salivating the minute I heard that. My tongue goes with nipple piercings like chocolate goes with peanut butter.)
It will be interesting to come back together and observe the way our separation has colored our worlds. I'm fortunate to be in a relationship that is being tested in its early stages. What I've learned so far is that absence does make the heart grow fonder, we still make each other laugh, and, so far, the sky hasn't fallen.
Friday, September 02, 2005
My Hero
This week, my man Thor rescued a jackrabbit that had fallen down into a hole. I couldn't follow the story very well since we tend to speak quickly and interrupt each other a lot on our phone calls, but I know the jackrabbit rescue ended happily with the jackrabbit thanking Thor for saving his life before the bunny hopped away.
Thor is a gentle giant. Kind to animals and children, he reminds me of Jesus or Pa Ingalls. On the other hand, with his shaved head, tattoo and pierced ear, he looks like he could possibly be cast in HBO's OZ series. Please bear with me a moment as I reflect on a prison fantasy that just popped into my head.
Wow. MMmmmmm. Nice. Woof!
Okay, I'm back. What was I saying? Oh, yes. Thor is tough. He can be intimidating at first glance. But children, animals and trusting grown men like me know that he is kind and warm. I remember one late night when Thor and I stood next to my car and a woman walked by with her dog. She seemed nervous when Thor said hello to her. Then he asked her, "Do you know Patty Griffin?" (We had just come from the concert).
The woman nervously answered that she didn't. "Me neither," he said. The woman kept walking, and I had to chuckle at the pointless exchange that had just occurred. He certainly never meant to make her nervous, but I could see her quicken her pace as she walked away.
Sometimes he is a little scary to me when we're playing. He always says that he loves the look in my eyes when we play games, because it is obvious I have no idea what to expect from him. That's exciting to both of us! I'm looking forward to the next time I experience that sensation. Then I can stop being jealous that other people seem to be having all the fun!
Thor is a gentle giant. Kind to animals and children, he reminds me of Jesus or Pa Ingalls. On the other hand, with his shaved head, tattoo and pierced ear, he looks like he could possibly be cast in HBO's OZ series. Please bear with me a moment as I reflect on a prison fantasy that just popped into my head.
Wow. MMmmmmm. Nice. Woof!
Okay, I'm back. What was I saying? Oh, yes. Thor is tough. He can be intimidating at first glance. But children, animals and trusting grown men like me know that he is kind and warm. I remember one late night when Thor and I stood next to my car and a woman walked by with her dog. She seemed nervous when Thor said hello to her. Then he asked her, "Do you know Patty Griffin?" (We had just come from the concert).
The woman nervously answered that she didn't. "Me neither," he said. The woman kept walking, and I had to chuckle at the pointless exchange that had just occurred. He certainly never meant to make her nervous, but I could see her quicken her pace as she walked away.
Sometimes he is a little scary to me when we're playing. He always says that he loves the look in my eyes when we play games, because it is obvious I have no idea what to expect from him. That's exciting to both of us! I'm looking forward to the next time I experience that sensation. Then I can stop being jealous that other people seem to be having all the fun!
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