What I'm Into

My aunt used to ask me all the time when I was a kid, "So, what are you into?"

At first I didn't understand the question. Honestly, I'd never heard the expression before she asked me what I was "into". This was the 70's, and, at the time, I guess it was sort of a new way of saying, "what are your hobbies?"

Here is what I'm into right now:

Podcasts
Satellite Sisters - I have always been fascinated with siblings who come from large families. Just ask Juju. I was so interested in her large family that I even committed to memory the birth order and full names of her four siblings (including middle names) even before I met them. The reason I love listening to The Satellite Sisters is that they are five very different sisters who live in different cities, and I enjoy hearing their views on everything from politics to movies to television shows. I am not sure why I'm obsessed with large families, but maybe that is one reason I've always loved the Osmonds.

Taverncast - This is one of my favorite World of Warcraft podcasts. These guys (and one gal) have a great sense of humor. They talk about the game, but I never feel like they are geeking out too much. They are my kind of people.

Kidd Kraddick in the Morning - When I lived in Dallas, Texas I listened to this morning show on Kiss FM all the time. Kidd and Kellie have been co-hosts for about 12 years. Their chemistry is the reason I've listened to the show for so many years. I missed my morning fix of Kidd Kraddick so much when I moved to Portland, but now I'm able to listen all the time, thanks to iTunes.

WoWcast - Another favorite World of Warcraft podcast, this one is hosted by the wise Alachia. Her take on the game is more psychological than one might expect. I find her thoughts on the metaverse to be fascinating. Alachia sounds like someone I'd enjoy being friends with, and she has such a unique perspective on the game now played by over 7 million people.

The Magic Geek - It's like a little slice of home. This Kansan crew reminds me of my midwestern roots, and I find out all the latest news about movies, music, games and technologies from them. They are on top of things. Pony listens to The Magic Geek too, and he really enjoys them. They plug our show, and we plug theirs. It's a love-love relationship.

Todd and Pony Show - Every once in a while I will listen to our podcast and feel less than enthusiastic, but those times are rare. Usually it's just because I get sick of hearing my own voice. But I would say 99% of the time, I am very into the show. Our latest podcast is all about Portland, and I am proud of the way the show turned out.

Television
Heroes - It's so good. It's about ordinary people who discover they have superpowers. And the powers they possess are really interesting. Who can resist an indestructible cheerleader or a heroin addict who paints the future? I can't wait until next Monday. It's X-Men meets Buffy the Vampire Slayer meets Third Watch meets Alias meets 24.

Jericho - Really loving this show too. The episode this week made me cry a little bit. Not the way Little House on the Prairie used to make me cry (did you see when Laura and Mary saved the drowning puppies!?), but I did get a bit weepy. It's a very interesting show that depicts life in a small town in Kansas after a nuclear attack.

Big Love - I initially wanted to watch this show because I thought polygamy seemed like a weird lifestyle, and I wanted to gawk. Somehow, I fell in love with this unconventional family, and now I get angry with the outsider characters on the show who think polygamy is weird and who just want to gawk.

Miscellaneous
Crater Lake Hazelnut Espresso Vodka - Ho, boy. Heaven. Seriously. I tried it last night at CC Slaughters, and I am going to have to stock a couple of bottles in my bar from now on.

Girlyman - I went to their concert last weekend, and The Handsome Prince laughed at me because I kept shouting their names. "All right DORIS!! Yeah, TY!! Woo Hoo NATE!!" I simply can't wait for their next album, which is they are working on right now.

For Your Consideration Anticipation - Since the movie isn't out yet, I can't say that I'm into it. But I am into the anticipation, and I can't imagine NOT loving this movie. I'm a devotee of Christopher Guest's work, and the cast is outstanding. I hate going to the movie theater, but I'll have to make an exception for this one.

With all this stuff I'm into, how do I still find the time to play World of Warcraft?

Man Diet

In the past two weeks, I lost 3 more pounds. That means I've lost about 15 pounds since September, and I'm halfway to my goal weight. I have been walking 4 miles a day, which has a lot to do with it, but I have also changed the way I eat. I broke down and joined one of those groups where you talk about how your week went and you applaud whenever someone drops a couple pounds. I'm not really into the meeting mentality, and I squirm in my chair when the weekly gatherings start feeling a bit too cultish, but I have learned quite a bit on how much food I need to eat in order to consistently lose weight. I am finally figuring out what constitutes a proper portion size.

I attended a party this weekend, and some of my friends were joking about the cowboy shirt I wore. Around the shirt's chest area, there is a strip of barbed wire. I made a joke about having barbed wire around my heart, but it was really only half a joke. Like food, I'm learning to cut some things out of my life. Right now I just don't need a romance to throw me off track. 'Cause I'll be the first to admit that all it takes to totally derail my train is a man to distract me.

At the end of the night my friends tried to introduce me to a guy they thought I would like, but I protested and rushed out to my truck. The way I fled from the party, you would have thought there was a fire in the house. Then today at my cult weight loss meeting, the cute guy I always swoon over actually spoke to me. Juju encouraged me to go over and chat with him, but I didn't. "Toddy, he is over there by the cookbooks. Go back in there. Now!!"

She is only trying to help me remove the barbed wire, I know. But I'm not in that place right now.

If a guy really wants to get to know me, he will just have to jump over the barbed wire fence before I can even consider the idea of going out on a date right now. I'm not going to chase after anything or anyone that might distract me. I'm very busy being selfish right now. It has been a long time coming.

Too Much Testosterone

I'm back from Orlando, where I attended a conference, drank margaritas by the pool, walked a mile or two every day, and changed tires on a NASCAR. Truly, I did. I was trained by a pit crew to change tires on a race car.

That was a lot of fun. Made me want to dominate someone in sordid acts of carnal pleasure.

You know, between driving a truck and playing softball and working on a pit crew, I'm just about to overflow with testosterone. Good thing I'm going to see Girlyman tonight. They'll help keep me in touch with my softer side. And I will have a chance to spend some time with The Handsome Prince, who really just gets more and more handsome every time I see him.

December 2009

Okay. Whew. Sigh. I've cleared my head after a vigorous walk, and I'm ready to write.

I just finished a very intense workshop and left feeling overwhelmed with emotion. See, I'm at a Buddhist monastery in Tibet right now (not really, but sounds cool) and I just spent some time meditating (that part is true).

So, basically, our facilitator (I don't know what you are supposed to call them - Dalai Something?) led a group of us through an exercise in quieting our minds, becoming aware of the moment and practicing some self-talk and visualization. In order to quiet my mind, Dalai Meditation Man (Dalai M&M) recommended that I focus on a place where I have felt truly at peace. So, for the first ten minutes when I was supposed to be clearing my mind, I mentally rehashed all my favorite vacations. I spent some time thinking about how CT and I fought constantly when we were in Paris, the most romantic place on earth. Right. Anyway, my "monkey mind" was hopping all over the place, and I think it even threw some poop around, but I finally got it to shut up.

Once I reigned in my monkey, things went better. (That applies to my dating life as well. Think about it.) As I listened to Dalai M&M's questions, I felt a lump growing in my throat. My eyes grew wet and I bit my lip.

"It is December 2009. You are living your life three years from now. What does your life look like? Where do you live, and what is your home like? What work are you doing? Are you with a new company? Are you in a cubicle? Do you work at your home? Who is living with you? Who greets you at the end of a day? A significant other? A pet? Are you alone?

What are your hobbies? What do you wish you had spent more time doing for the past three years?" And with that question, the lights slowly came up and Dalai M&M finished guiding us through our meditation time.

The thing is, I could see it all so clearly. My whole life. My dream life. My house, my partner (he's awesome) and my dog. It was both exhilarating and sobering. I know that I am on the right path to have all that I've ever dreamed of, but I also know that I've been lazy in taking some of the steps necessary to become the person I want to be in December 2009.

I'm also impatient. There are many pieces of my dream life that are "yet to come". I do feel that I've been taking the steps to achieve my dream life, but I have a long way to go. Well, at least I have until December 2009, right?

One very clear goal emerged from this time of meditation. In order to make room for some new things in my life, I have some serious clearing out to do. That means a trip or two to Goodwill. How can new pleasures and treasures enter my life if I'm already bogged down and cluttered with the past? I have clothes that are rapidly becoming too baggy on me. They need to be tossed, since the body fat I'm losing is NOT coming back. I have stacks of magazines I always planned on reading someday. Face it, Toddy, you're not ever going to read the April 2003 issue of Travel & Leisure.

I can do this. I know I can. I'll spend some time planning, and I think as a result of this workshop I'll spend a lot more time meditating and visualizing. Now if I can just get my monkey mind off the tire swing!

Soup and Canasta

Every now and then people ask me about The Handsome Prince. Is he still around? How's he doing? Are we still friends? Yes, great, and of course. There are a couple of things I can count on in this world. Cher will always do another farewell tour, and The Handsome Prince and I will always be friends.

This weekend I really wanted to relax and lay low. Friday night I was in bed with a good book by 9:30 p.m., and I woke up on Saturday at 5:30 in the morning. I did my laundry, went to the grocery store, and even made some turkey chili. That afternoon, The Handsome Prince called and said he was all alone that night. He invited me over to taste his squash soup and play canasta. I told him I'd also bring some turkey chili over. "Great! We'll have a soup buffet!"

We can tell each other anything. We laugh so much when we're together. Our friendship is sustaining and powerful. His squash soup kicks ass. He even lied and said that my turkey chili tasted good. Then we had one of the most competitive canasta games I've ever played. He won, but barely.

I miss living with him and The Math Whiz sometimes, but I really love living alone now. My apartment is a sanctuary, and at the end of every day I always look forward to going home. On Sunday night Auburn Pisces came over to watch Wanda Sykes' stand-up special with me. She really liked my apartment too, and she now understands why I fell in love with the place. Afterwards we went to CC Slaughters and had a great time watching the Sunday night "Carnivale de Bolivia" drag show.

I had such a great weekend, and I just wanted to tell you about it.

No More Cockadoodie Hiatus

Okay, I hear you. I'm sorry. I know you're my biggest fan, and I realize you have a sledgehammer, so I'll get to writing.

Hiatus was nice. I liked going about my business for a week and not having to think about a way to "make it interesting". And, yes, quiconque, you were right. I did take some time off, in part, so I could spend more time on the podcast. The Todd & Pony Show has been so much fun.

I really love the collaboration with Pony and Juju. They are great to work with. The Halloween Show is going up today, and I can't wait to listen to it. Funny - I almost never go back and read my previous blog posts, but I usually listen to my own podcast at least twice.

You know what would be cool? It would be cool if I had even a teeny tiny bit of web design skill so that I could update Hot Toddy's Toaster Oven. Like, it would be cool if I could have a link to From Boys to Men, the anthology in which I'm published.

I could ask Pony to update my site, but he's so busy with - oh, right. The podcast. I'm supposed to be talking about the podcast.

Anyway, I'm sorry for being gone for a week and for leaving such an oogie mess.

Hot Toddy is on Hiatus

Fun Things

Last night we had so much fun recording our Halloween podcast. It will be up on October 27. Juju and Pony and I laughed till we hurt. Man, I am loving the podcast. I have to admit that I'm spending lots more time podcasting than I am blogging, but I just enjoy it so much. Blogging can be very solitary, whereas podcasting with Pony and Juju has been much more engaging. I enjoy the collaboration so much.

Have you listened to a Todd & Pony Show yet? You can listen without an iPod or MP3 player by just going to the website. Our last show was a drunkcast, and we almost didn't put it up for our listeners. But Juju convinced us that it was fun to listen to, so that should go up tonight or tomorrow.

Oh, and if you have a podcast of your own, please let me know either by leaving a comment or sending an e-mail. I love downloading podcasts to my phone, which has iTunes on it. Then I listen to the podcasts while I'm at work.

Today was pretty fun too - I went to Macy's and bought a pair of jeans with a gift card. They're a size smaller than I was wearing before, but they are still one size bigger than I want to be. Since I'm walking to and from work every day, it shouldn't be too much longer till I can buy yet another pair of new jeans.

I also bought a new pair of boxer briefs. They're sexy. The boy who rang up my purchase wrote his name on my receipt so that I could comment on his customer service if I wanted. But I think he really did it because he wanted to see me in the boxer briefs, don't you?

Blographaphobia

I made that word up. Graphophobia is the fear of writing, so I've decided "Blographaphobia" is the fear of updating one's blog.

I'm preparing for tonight's recording session by researching various phobias. I guess there are several fears I have that could be classified as rather mild phobias. But right now I'm mostly feeling Blographaphobia.

This irrational fear comes from a concern that anything I write will fall into one of the following categories:

1. It will be irrelevant and boring.
2. It will be inflammatory. (The debate about Muslim veils. ARGH!)
3. It will get me fired.
4. It will make someone feel left out.
5. It will cause God to smite me and/or cause an earthquake that will occur right as I am walking home over the Burnside Bridge, and I'll fall into the river and die.

Did you know that Ithyphallophobia is the fear of erect penises? I can't imagine. On the contrary, I am quite the Ithyphallophile.

(Maybe I'll wear water wings and a helmet as I walk home tonight)

Random Acts of Craziness

20% of my keyword search hits today came from people googling "Random Acts of Craziness".

In celebration of that fact, I ran around the office and gathered up all the trash cans from everyone's desks. Then I put the trash cans on the elevator and sent it to the lobby level.

Today I decided that I need to get my hands on a human tooth that I can keep at my desk. Then if I feel like I want to go home from work early, I will just run over to my boss and show him the tooth.

"My tooth fell out! It just fell right out of my mouth! I have to get to a dentist!"

The detached tooth excuse will probably work as long as I don't overuse it. Maybe only once every couple months. And I will definitely have to use a back tooth, unless I want to blacken my front tooth, which I will probably do at Halloween anyway since I am planning on being Princess Diana (if she were still alive and if she were missing a front tooth).

There is a lady that works here who has the last name of "Friend", and I would imagine it puts a lot of pressure on her to be nice to people.

If I ever change my name, I would like to hyphenate it. Hello, my name is Todd Raging-Bitch.

Did everyone come out of the closet yesterday? I hope so, because I did not get one single e-mail asking for advice. If you still would like to come out of the closet and would like my advice, you will need to wait until next year for National Coming Out day. Until then, please remain firmly wedged inside your closet of shame. Or you can check and see if National Coming Out Day falls on another date in some other country. I think it happens sometime in December in Namibia.

I know that sometimes my blog seems like I'm getting all serious, but I assure you these sorts of thoughts are always present in my brain, and it is probably going to get worse as I continue aging. Brace yourself.

National Coming Out Day

Today is National Coming Out Day. The Human Rights Campaign has published A Resource Guide for Coming Out on their site. Check it out!


A couple years ago, I wrote a post for Jase because he told me he was ready to come out to his friends and family, and he wanted my advice. You can find that post here.


I still find myself coming out to people all the time. I don't know that we ever really complete the process. I can tell you this -- It is a beautiful thing to be authentic. It is wonderful not to hide. There is nothing like taking back your power. Nobody has the power to make me ashamed any longer.

Do you want to come out, but you're afraid? Have you experienced coming out? Do you have a friend or family member who came out to you?

If you would like to share your story with me, please send an e-mail or leave a comment. I will respect your privacy and am also allowing anonymous comments for this post. If you'd like others to hear your story, let me know and I will do my best to share as many stories as I can either on the Todd & Pony Show or here at Hot Toddy's Toaster Oven.

Why Hot Toddy Failed Algebra in High School

I am a smart guy. I graduated magna cum laude, and I have never had a GPA lower than 3.7 in college or high school. I was also on the Dean's List in college every single quarter. (We were not on the semester system.)

However, I don't have a head for numbers. So yesterday I wasn't trying to be funny when I said being 40 was like 3 twenty-year-olds put together. Sad, but true.

In high school I failed Algebra II. Right after my math teacher told me I was failing her class, I was summoned to the principal's office and given an award for academic achievement. Weird, huh? I guess my other grades were so good that I could afford to be a failure at something.

There are lots of things I'm pretty stupid about, in spite of my intelligence. Wanna hear about some more things I know nothing about? Check out the latest Todd and Pony Show. We call it, "The Know Show".

You don't have to have an iPod to listen - you can listen to the podcast from our website. If you would like to leave us a review on iTunes or would like to call the comment line, that information is also posted on the site.

Older

I'm 40 now. That is like three 20-year-olds put together. As I reflect on that fact, it occurs to me that I would like to put three 20-year-olds together and have a four-way with them. The trick is finding three 20-year-olds who want to be with a 40-year-old man.

Pony and I shared our birthday party this year, and we rented an amazing house on the Oregon Coast. But, because of occupancy limits and vehicle limits, we could each only invite 5 people. That was hard. Now I worry that my friends who weren't invited will feel like they didn't make "The Top 5" list. Isn't that stupid of me? We'll see how it goes.

Thinking strategically, I chose 5 people who I knew would cater to my needs.

I chose one friend who can cook (The Handsome Prince), one friend who makes great margaritas (Auburn Pisces), one friend who sleeps with me sometimes (Willie), one friend who makes me laugh (The Math Whiz), and one friend who is my personal sex therapist and counselor (Juju). It was like being on Survivor and having a chance to be team captain in choosing my own tribe.

Juju couldn't make it due to illness. I was really disappointed, but it was beyond anyone's control. She asked me today how we can celebrate my birthday here in town, and I don't know how (or if) I really want to do that. In a way, I'd like to let this whole turning 40 thing blow over. Let's just pretend the birthday never happened.

Before I left for the coast, my mom sent me an e-mail warning, "Please be careful of sharks." God, I love my mom.

I shared laughs with my friends, we drank heartily, played canasta, ate birthday cake, swam in the indoor wave pool, sat around the fire pit, listened to the waves and ate fabulous food.

In all honesty, the highlight of my birthday this year was walking through the door of my apartment on Sunday evening and soaking up the silence. I let out a deep sigh and lit some scented candles. Then I made myself something to eat, put my feet up, engaged in some sexual self-gratification, watched a little television and played World of Warcraft. At the end of the evening, I knew that I can take better care of myself than anyone else can, and I said out loud, "Happy Birthday, Todd".

I crawled into my comfy bed by myself, turned on a fan for "white noise", and I quickly fell asleep very happy to be with the one person who loves me more than anybody.

Wash World

I love the smell of fresh bread baking in the factory near my apartment. I love hearing the riverboats tooting their horns on the Willamette in the morning. I love the sound of the train as it passes by late at night. But one part of my new living situation that I do not appreciate is the fact that I must now make regular visits to the laundromat.

I chose Wash World because of its proximity to Wild Oats and Starbucks. I am still searching for an "upscale" laundromat but haven't found one yet. I guess, theoretically, if you are upscale like me you should really have your own washer and dryer. One nice thing about Wash World is that snacks are available, so I don't even need to leave the laundromat if I get hungry.



The dryers at Wash World are incredibly hot.



However, none of the people at Wash World are incredibly hot. That is why I bring magazines with me - so I have something to look at. It is very important to commandeer a laundry cart right away. It makes clothes sorting/folding so much easier. This is my laundromat survival kit.




Fortunately, I did not have any problems with "jambing" when I used the change machine. I believe "jamb" is short for jambalaya in this context.



Thank you for coming to Wash World. Hurry back!

Ready For My Close-Up

I just found out what happened in Pompeii in 79 AD. Yeah, I don't read the newspapers much.

Last week a vendor took us to lunch and we talked about Pompeii and the eruption of Mount Vesuvius. What else would you talk about at a business lunch? Anyway, that's when I found out that plaster casts of the victims were part of the Pompeii tourist experience. After Pompeii's ruins were discovered, void spaces in the ash were found. These spaces, once filled with human remains, were then filled with plaster duplicates of the victims.

Perhaps that is why last night I had a dream that a volcano exploded in Portland. The Portland volcano was inside a shopping mall, where I had been hanging out with either Mary-Kate or Ashley Olsen. (I didn't know which one and it seemed rude to ask, but it wasn't the anarchic one.) After Mary-Kate or Ashley left to go to The Gap (wouldn't go with her - hate The Gap), the volcano started to explode inside the mall and people fled screaming in terror. Not me.

In my dream, I wandered around the mall trying to figure out where I wanted to be and what pose I wanted to take in case I was forever preserved in ash. I finally decided that I wanted to be next to this little fountain and wanted to be drinking a cup of coffee, so I sat there drinking coffee as I waited to die.

An attention whore, even at deaths door.

Hot Wash

It has definitely been too long since I had any action. I went to get my haircut today and found myself becoming aroused while getting my hair washed. I went to a new hair stylist or hair designer or hair cutter (whatever they wanna be called these days), and he is simply beautiful. As he moved around me and soaped up my hair, I fought to keep from opening my mouth wide.

The other day someone wrote me an e-mail with just a hint of sexual innuendo, and I couldn't stand up at my desk for about 5 minutes. And now, as I remember that e-mail, I find myself feeling completely turned on again.

The first thing I want to do when I wake up in the morning is have sex. But there is nobody there to have sex with. It's frustrating. But don't worry, I've figured out a system.

Anyway, for the past year I have felt certain that I will never go back to one-night stands or casual hook-ups. At the same time I feel like I can't wait too much longer. Lately all it takes is for someone to touch my neck or breath in my ear, and I'm ready to jump them. I guess I should just be happy to have someone touching my neck or breathing in my ear (just don't put your tongue in there - and you know who you are!), but I think I'd like to at least make it to first base with someone. Right now I feel like I'm not even in the ballpark. I'm off buying cotton candy at the concession stand or something.

So, there you have it. Just because I haven't talked about it lately doesn't mean I don't want it. The truth is I want it bad. (Not badly - bad, as in dirty)

Back from the Mountain

Well, after two long plane trips, two ten-hour road trips, and two gondola rides, I'm back home. See, I was at a dear friend's wedding in Minnesota. She was married on a mountain summit overlooking Lake Superior, and the event was beautiful.

But what was really wonderful about the weekend was the chance to be with my college friends again. To laugh continuously for four days in a row is a beautiful experience.

My friends from college are some of the most creative and quick-witted people I know. We spent at least 25 minutes analyzing this sign and its accompanying wall mural portraying the Wreck of the SS Edmund Fitzgerald (outside a liquor store in Grand Marais, Minnesota).



Toddy: How did all 29 men lose Captain McSorley? You'd think someone could find him.

Curfew: Especially since he was 729 feet long.

I could write out a detailed transcript of the lengthy discourse we shared, but it would be impossible to convey the humor. Truly, you had to be there.

Inane conversations like that one are the norm for us. There is something not quite right about the way our brains operate, and the condition seems to become even more pronounced when we're reunited.

We went to a small college in Kentucky located in Wilmore, a town of about 5000 people. There was nothing to do there, so we created our own fun. "Wear Your Hair a Different Way to Dinner Night", for example. Buttercup stuck wire hangers in her braids a la Pippi Longstocking, and then she dangled bunches of green grapes on both braids. We formed a volleyball team, The Mad Sheep, for the sole purpose of making a mockery of intramural sports. (Our cheer before every game was, "Sheep! Sheep! Sheep! No Wool! BAAA!)

I printed my team number (my social security number) on the back of my jersey. Curfew's number was her telephone number. John's number was .08, the legal limit for blood alcohol concentration in Kentucky. Blue's number was 3.14159...

The Mad Sheep ended up taking second place in the volleyball tournament.

We'd have spontaneous picnics in the cemetery. We gave each other topics on which to speak extemporaneously about for 5 minutes, and the rest of the group would pretend to be vehemently passionate about the subject. As the designated orator stood on a concrete pedestal proclaiming the greatness of paper clips, the rest of us would wildly cheer and applaud in agreement.

Wonder Twin and I would lay out in the sun right after lunch every day. Since we only had 10 minutes, we would spread out on our backs fully dressed on the sidewalk in front of the Psychology building from 12:50 to 1:00. People stepped over us on the way to class and shook their heads.

Now, almost 20 years later, we live all over the country and only gather together once every 5 or 10 years. We gather for weddings or special events whenever possible. There is always someone who can't make it, so the truth is we'll probably never all be together again. But even two Mad Sheep in the same room makes for hilarity. And such love. These friends love me so much, and I them.

On the plane back to Portland, I listened to my iPod and heard the song "Kind Friend" by Indigo Girls. "Hey, kind friend, I don't know when I'll see you again." The lyrics hit me hard in a way they've never done before. "Kind friend, help me forget where I've been. Kind friend, help me remember who I am."

I turned my face to the window and tried to look out at the clouds, but all I could see was a blur of tears against the bright sky.

Hot Toddy is Very Literary

God, it's hard to keep a secret. But I've managed to keep this one.

I've just been informed that From Boys to Men has been published. Why should that matter to me? Only because I'm one of the contributors to this anthology. My mother would be so proud of me for being published if it weren't for the fact that I wrote about masturbation and gay wrestling.

Oh, well. Maybe my next book will be more along the lines of Chicken Soup for the Hole. I mean Soul.

Click the link above to buy an actual copy of an actual book that I'm actually published in.

Hmm. Suddenly I feel guilty for ending a sentence in a preposition - as if I should know better now that I'm a published author. That's something I'm very proud of.

Er, something of which I'm very proud.

Booty Call

This morning at about 3 a.m. I was awakened by screaming and pounding outside my kitchen window. As I stumbled across my dark apartment to investigate, I heard my next door neighbor shouting out his window to whoever was causing the ruckus. He used some fucking profane language, which I won't repeat on this blog 'cause I'm not down with that shit.

When I got to my window, I opened it wide and looked down at the parking lot below. A young man was in the process of beating up a No Parking sign. He punched the sign over and over with his bare fist and then stopped suddenly when he saw me.

"I see you up there in your window, bitch. You wanna come down here and do something about it?" he asked.

Of course I thought about going down there. I mean, he was clearly hitting on me. But I wasn't sure if this guy was the type of person I'd enjoy hooking up with. On the one hand, he seemed very masculine. The way he punched the sign over and over with his bare hand was pretty seductive. On the other hand, calling me a bitch is not as affirming as, say, telling me I am very flexible.

I was pretty tired from moving, so I decided to just scare away my potential late night booty call by pretending to call the police. I didn't feel like walking all the way across my apartment in the dark just to retrieve my cell phone, so I picked up the nearest object, an outlet adapter like this one, and pretended to dial it. As soon as I held the outlet adapter up to my ear, the foolish boy cussed me out some more and took off.

I never even got a chance to give him my number.

Pack Rat

I hate moving. I hate it a lot. I hate moving more than I hate answering my office phone only to hear that annoying shrill fax sound that indicates some moron is trying to send a fax to my phone.

But I am almost done.

Thanks to The Handsome Prince, Toddtender, Juju, Metro and Pony, my cozy one-bedroom apartment is full of my stuff. And by full, I mean overloaded. The floor of my apartment is sagging.

Why do I have a framed Donny & Marie album (New Season), and where am I going to put my poster of Laverne & Shirley with The Fonz?

Do I need an entire shelf of Japanese snack foods and other unidentifiable products? I mean, sure the packaging is super cool, but maybe I should put something else on that pantry shelf. Like, food that I'll actually eat, maybe.

I'll have to install some shelving to display the fun gifts my friends have given me over the years. I have the little reminder to always "Be Relevant", which Guru Stu sent me. Metro's mother gave me a Ken Doll of "The Handsome Prince". She repackaged him as "Hot Toddy's Handsome Prince" and covered up Barbie's face with a picture of me. It's so creative and makes me feel loved. But will any man want to spend the night with me if he sees that I have a Ken Doll? Not to mention my "Little House on the Prairie" video collection. Which I just mentioned.

Metro, not to be outdone by his mother, gave me a Payne (Final Fantasy X-2) action figure. My friend Lizzie gave me a Jesus action figure. I can't just keep this stuff in a box under my bed! But where will I put it all?

Maybe I can get rid of a couple boxes of props from shows I've helped produce. My sketch comedy group, The Exotic Actors Guild, required lots of strange props (laser guns, wigs, an American flag, and a "Kiss My Ass" lunchbox), and I haven't been able to part with any of them. Who knows when I might want to wear my "Swiss-Land" tank top again?

I have a box of games for the iMac that CT and I bought. (I pointed at it, and he paid for it - so "we" bought it.) Even the local software store that buys used computer games won't purchase them since most gamers prefer PC games.

The good news is that if I actually decide to throw anything away, there is a dumpster three stories below my window. I already practiced throwing a full garbage bag out my kitchen window, and it turns out my aim is pretty good. It landed smack dab in the middle of the dumpster. True, the people living in the two apartments below mine may have been a bit startled as a bag of trash flew past their kitchen windows, but that is the price they have to pay for getting to live in a building with Hot Toddy.

Kassia and Sodom Show with Aldo Norn

The new podcast is up, and it's a crazy one.

Todd and Pony Show

And in other random news, there is a Bocce Ball tournament taking place at the building where I work. Portland is so weird.

Wriggly Fish

I don't know if you could call him "The one that got away..."

Willie was more like "The one impossible to get a grip on..."

But he was so much fun to be with. He moved at the beginning of this year, and last week I got to see him for the first time in months.

I had just returned from the softball tournament the night before, and I had about 20 minutes to spare before I left for a business trip to Seattle. He called me on my cell and asked if I could meet him somewhere - anywhere - just to say hello.

I was in such a hurry, and I told him all about my crazy schedule for the morning. Had to drop off my rent check and take a couple things to my new apartment and go pick up Juju. He asked again if we could meet. Even for a couple minutes.

There's something about him that draws me to him and makes me want to be in his presence. Willie was very popular with my friends during the time we were - doing whatever it was we were doing. They all liked him a lot and said he was so much fun. But sometimes he frustrated me so much, and there have been more than a few times that I've pissed him off so much he couldn't talk to me.

We even argued a little bit on the phone before I went to pick him up last week. He asked me if I liked this one guy, and I said I was waiting to see what would happen rather than forcing anything. Then he said he felt like punching me in the face when I said "stuff like that", but he couldn't figure out quite why. Then I got frustrated because he wanted me to meet him at the light rail station even though I told him how busy I was and why couldn't he just come to my apartment instead of making me even more late....

Then we just stopped fighting, and I told him I'd meet him halfway. And that's what we did.

I saw him a couple blocks up the street. I pulled up in my truck and he hopped in. We hugged and held hands for a couple minutes. I loved feeling his warm body again, and he made me laugh right away with some goofy comment. I don't even remember what it was. Sometimes he talks so fast I feel like my head is swimming.

I took him to see my new apartment, which took about five minutes. Then we went to get a quick cup of coffee, and he took pictures of me as I paid for our drinks. (I told the barista that Willie was my publicist.)

He makes me laugh. He frustrates the hell out of me. He drives me nuts. He acts crazy. I like him. He's unpredictable and fun. He's sweet and beautiful. He has great shoulders and sexy tattoos.

As he told me before we said goodbye last week, "We do so much better this way..."

Living far apart has been good for us. I feel like I appreciate him more, and I think he feels the same way. I have never known a more complicated person than Willie, and I guess I like him just the way he is.

Joint Health

I took my Joint Health supplement before the games last weekend.



But I'm still sore.


We won lots of games. That made us happy. We also won the award for best team spirit. It is easy to have spirit when you're cute.



That's Shiny, Me and the Toddtender.
I have tons of stories to tell. I will get to them soon!



Can you see my sports injury in the picture above?

I had the time of my life, and it's all thanks to the man who talked me into joining the team...



Thank you Toddtender! (He also brought me coffee and egg sandwiches in bed. Best roommate ever!)

That's what I'm talking about!

Butterflies

I'm a bit nervous about this weekend. I'm going to be driving up to Vancouver, BC with the Toddtender for a softball tournament. We're also going to be sharing a hotel room.

The reason I am nervous is because Toddtender and I have never spent more than a few hours together. Spending an entire weekend with him might be a problem.



You know how sometimes people get tongue-tied if they are in the presence of someone really hot? There is this uncomfortable feeling that you can't be yourself. You don't know what to say. Sometimes your palms get sweaty and your mouth feels dry. Sometimes you have butterflies in your stomach.



Well, if this happens, it will make for a long, quiet, uncomfortable drive to Canada. It will be unbearable sharing a hotel room with such awkwardness and nervousness in the air.



I just hope the Toddtender can relax and be himself, even though he will be in the presence of someone as hot as I am.

Hopefully, he'll realize I'm just a normal guy who happens to be pretty.

43 Things

The other day I found a $50 gift card for Foot Locker in the pocket of a shirt I haven't worn for a few months. Now I can go buy some new shoes!

Who knows what else will turn up as I begin packing for my upcoming move? All I know is it feels great to have that mystery solved. Several times over the past few months I've gone on the rampage searching for that damn gift card!

What have you been wanting to accomplish? Do you have any goals - large or small - that you want to see to fruition?

Lately I've been adding my goals to this site called 43 Things.

Remember when I lost my Attention Deficit Disorder sticker? I set a goal for myself on 43 things to "Find Things I've Lost". Then I found my gift card.

Last week, I found my ADD sticker. It was inside my weekly planner between the pages for the week of September 25-October 1. (At least it was in a 2006 planner...)

Check that one off the list!

For some reason I was happier about finding the $3 sticker than I was about finding the $50 gift card. Which is why I've also added the goal to "Improve my financial intelligence"!

Todd & Pony Show #10

The latest episode of the Todd & Pony Show promises to get you off. We invited the gorgeous and sparkling Juju into our studio to talk about - what else - sex!

We had such a great time with her. Don't be surprised if she makes a repeat appearance or two on the show.

As usual, I got us so far off track that we actually had to stop recording and take a break to regroup. Thanks to Pony's amazing editing, you can't even tell it happened. I wish I had an editor for my everyday conversations. Life would be so much easier.

Let us know what you think of the podcast. You can comment here or at the Todd & Pony show webpage. Thanks!

My Notes from Today's Staff Meeting

E-mail managers regarding learning programs.


Kill me now.

Longest story ever.

Which rope do I pull to make the piano fall on my head?

Writing, writing, writing [Note: I wrote that so it would look like I was taking notes on whatever was being said at the time]

I wonder if xxx cuts his own hair.

Overheard in Portland

I've always been envious of New Yorkers. Especially when I read the crazy quotes in Overheard in New York. Oh, to live in a city where random insanity is par for the course.

I just discovered that we have our own version of the site here in Portland (known by some as "PDX", which is our airport code for Portland International.

I promptly sent in my favorite overheard moment of all time. (It's true - I heard it with my own ears.)

The apartment search has come to an end. I am in love with my new place. It's a block away from a very cool hotel, a great bar, and it has a newly remodeled IKEA kitchen! It's a few blocks away from the river and esplanade, and it is also exactly one mile from CC Slaughters.

Pictures will be posted soon.

Out of Step

I've been falling behind lately. When I was in marching band in high school, sometimes I would get out of step with everyone else, so I'd have to take six or seven tiny little steps in order to get back on the right foot. That's what it feels like to be Hot Toddy lately.

It's like when you are late to your Time Management workshop.

Or when you can't make it to your AA meeting because you're too hung over.

Sitting in a Weight Watcher's meeting, and your chair breaks.

I can't seem to get it together!

Deluxe Apartment in the Sky

I'm movin', but I'm not sure I'm movin' on up.

Living with Auburn Pisces has been healing and strengthening. When I moved into her home, I believed Thor would eventually be back. If he didn't move back to Portland, he said, he would at least be coming back to take me away to California. We all know how that story ended.

But I was really grateful I moved into AP's home anyway. She helped me through the darkest days, and we have enjoyed the ease of planning cocktail hour by just shouting at each other from our separate floors.

Still, I feel it is time to move on. For one thing, I really want to live closer to downtown. Maybe even take a place right in the heart of the city. That means I'll have a lot less space if I try to keep my rent about the same as it is now.

Checking out a studio and a one-bedroom today at Empire Apartments got me thinking. (Why, oh why must I analyze everything so heavily...) Looking for a place to live is causing me to evaluate my whole life. It's stressing me out.

Should I be looking in a different part of town? I mean, is there a certain lifestyle more appropriate for a man about to turn 40? Shouldn't I be looking for something more suburban? Or should I be buying a house?

I've always wanted to live in the city. I like city noise. The Empire reminded me of a place I would have loved in my twenties. I could light incense and candles and stay up all night listening to jazz as traffic noise drifted through my open window. I would drink glasses of wine and read books about Matisse or Andy Warhol.

I don't know anymore. Maybe I want a bigger place. The kind of place where a mattress on the floor would feel inappropriate. Maybe I need a place that requires a matching bedroom suite. And where will I park Sven, my big white truck, if I move downtown? I'm not ready to part with him; He's beautiful.

The Empire seemed dark. I don't need or want a dark home! The only light in that place is Drew, the extremely hot building manager with big arms and a gleaming smile.

Inner Monologue: I Love Me. I Love Me Not.

The following inner monologue occurred this morning at approximately 7 a.m. as I had my morning coffee...

(Stretching) Mmmmmmm. What a great sleep. I feel so good. Probably because I didn't drink at all yesterday. If I could try not to drink any alcohol for four weeks I could probably burn so much body fat. But I think I am doing pretty good. Maybe I could just try not to drink for four days instead of four weeks.

It feels nice to stand here outside drinking coffee wearing only boxer shorts. I feel sexy. Probably those dreams I had about blow jobs. I wonder if either of those guys would really be into getting a blow job from me even though they are both straight? I should just e-mail them today and ask if either of them want a blow job. Yeah, right. As if. Like I would ever do that. I'll have to wait and get drunk with them sometime and then I'll ask them.

These boxer shorts feel loose. I wonder if I've lost more fat. That would be awesome. I like how smooth my skin feels. I like the way my triceps feel. I wonder if I look good from the back. Like, if I had a boyfriend and we just got done having sex, I wonder if he would come out of the shower right now and see me standing here and comment on how my boxer shorts are sort of sliding down in the back and -

God I am vain. I am so vain. I suck.

I mean a healthy self-esteem is one thing, but standing around drinking coffee in your boxer shorts and thinking how sexy you feel is something else entirely. I wonder how my friends even stand me. I must make them sick. They probably roll their eyes at how vain I am.

I'm disgusting. I hate myself. This coffee is good.

Wait a minute. Two seconds ago I was feeling hot and sexy and now I'm suddenly hating myself. How do I do that? Who loves himself one minute and hates himself the next? Probably just me and Courtney Love.

Oh, and Mariah Carey. She probably does that.

This coffee is good. I wish I didn't have to go to work today. After work, we need to record the podcast. What should we talk about? Maybe we should talk about self-esteem today.

I like the way my chest feels.

God, I'm vain. It's really disgusting. This coffee is so good.

Why Do I Do It?

I used to do it for attention or because I was bored. I really wanted to meet someone special, too. I thought maybe some guy would fall in love with me. I hoped it wouldn't be a long distance thing, but I was just so lonely, I would have settled for just about anything that came along. Oh, and I did, believe me.

Sometimes I wouldn't talk to anybody at work all day, and I felt like I didn't really have that many friends to e-mail. When my relationship with CT ended, I realized he was pretty much my whole world. I hadn't cultivated any other friendships, and certainly I did not have even one gay male friend.

So I started doing it. Blogging.

First I copied other bloggers I enjoyed. I tried to be really witty like Joel Derfner. And I tried to be scathing and hilarious like Margaret Cho.

It was fun getting e-mails from people I'd never met. Oh my god, you can't believe how flirtatious some of these e-mails got. At one time I felt like I was having a long distance relationship with about three or four different guys. Then one of them sort of inched to the front of the line, won my heart, and we began speaking (and doing other stuff) on the phone. I went to visit him, and we had quite a time together.

I started examining everything about myself. My dating habits. My neediness. My romantic nature. My anxiety. My fears. My joys. Hot Toddy's Toaster Oven (do you need me to link it or can you find it okay?) became a sounding board. I stopped trying to entertain and started trying to be real.

Some bloggers (bitches) said I "jumped the shark". They started making fun of me (I see all and know all) and formed secret little clubs of Toddy Haters that weren't really all that secret. It's not their fault. I gave them all the ammunition they needed. Instead of talking about the cool new technology gadget I bought or about the musclegod stud I went to bed with, I just shared what was on my heart.

Sharing my heart wasn't a problem. Nobody minded, until I shared thoughts about other people that didn't necessarily match the image of themselves that they worked hard to reflect in blogger world. I learned what it was to be told, in so many words, to shut up. I rocked the boat, which is something I've always avoided. I didn't rock it on purpose. Honestly, I was just so damn uncomfortable sitting in the back of the boat trying not to make waves. I wanted to move up front where I could see better - where I could, maybe, figure some things out.

So many people were mad at me for rocking the boat. Maybe people have always talked about me behind my back, but at least I never knew about it. The sting comes when you find out that they are talking about you. That's what you should avoid, if you want my advice. If people are talking negatively about you behind your back, you are probably better off remaining blissfully ignorant about it. But for some reason truth always seems to bubble up to the surface in my life, whether I want it to or not.

The funny thing was that all kinds of stories were invented to explain my "crazy behavior" of being too honest. Some friends in Portland reported to others across the country that I was an alcoholic and on this incredibly self-destructive path. Others speculated that the people who left encouraging and lovely comments on my blog were people I had to pay to be my friends. (That's the only reason he has this ridiculous following - he pays people to be in his entourage!)

Eh. It was stupid and stifling, and I went ahead and just let the boat tip over. We all swam for our lives. A bunch of them huddled together and clung to the wreckage, but I decided to let the current carry me away. Being talked about and getting lots of attention wasn't all it had cracked up to be, and I decided I couldn't trust anyone if I couldn't look directly into their eyes while I talked to them.

That pretty much ruled out any friendships based solely on e-mail correspondence or drunk dials or blog comments. And I retreated into - um - well, reality, I guess. My real friends were the people I could touch and hold and feel. My real friends were people who would talk to me if they felt I was drinking too much instead of talking about me to others. My real friends asked me why I took certain actions, and they listened to my explanations without judgment.

Hot Toddy's Toaster Oven (just Google it if you're still having problems...) started getting pretty "boring, boring, everything is boring". I don't know - maybe some of my posts were still okay to others, but I knew I was writing trivial mundane words. Who cares what I write. I certainly don't.

Why didn't I quit? Maybe I would have. Maybe I was just a week or two away from quitting. Then Thor came crashing on the scene and my total disorientation required something safe to hold onto. My writing has always been my safety net. I can control it, and I can command my words to express what feels impossible to describe. Never in my life have I felt happier than when he held me and told me about all that we would share together. I never felt safer or sexier. I never felt more reckless or rough. I never felt more kinky or gluttonous.

I guess it is only fitting that, when it ended, I never felt more afraid or ugly. I never felt more timid or broken. I never felt more undesirable or dead. Still, Hot Toddy's Toaster Oven (it's right here, idiot) was mine. I would write and somehow wish that my words would heal me. If one of my readers happened to offer a piece of advice that could possibly help me to postpone finishing myself off, well, that would be convenient as well. And it happened. My heroes, my readers, rushed to my aid. (And I didn't have to pay anybody, you bitches). I couldn't dismiss what I was being told. Too many people wrote to tell me that it wasn't hopeless. Too many people assured me the pain would go away. (Wait - does that mean that it is actually possible I could have true friends I'd never met in person? COOL!) Too many people told me to keep fighting, and I had no choice but to listen.

Since April, I have lost 10% bodyfat. I don't even need to go back and look at the posts from April. I remember it well. That was when the world started coming back into focus. That's when I opened the door of my house right after it completed the cyclone spin cycle, and I saw the Technicolor world. April was when my hope came back.

Why do I do it? Why do I share this stuff with strangers? Why do I write about what is going on even when I know that it is read by my college friends, former boyfriends, and other bloggers? Why do I scribble my URL (I'm not going to tell you again - just look in the Address field above - you are getting on my last nerve) on a napkin and hand it to anybody at the bar who expresses an interest?! Am I just looking for attention? Am I still hoping to meet somebody by attempting to portray myself as this amazing catch?

When I was a young teenager, I used to write my own porn. See, I had a crush on my French Teacher, and I fantasized about having sex with him. So I'd write stories about our imaginary encounters. After I wrote the stories, I would use them to get worked up. My words created visual images in my mind that would help me to climax. After I got off, I would rip the stories into a million little pieces and flush down the toilet so nobody would discover my secrets.

That's why I do it. That's why I blog.

Huh?

Yeah, that probably doesn't make much sense. It's not a very good explanation. Needs elaboration. Please develop this idea further.

Nah. I don't feel like it. You either get it or you don't, and either way is okay with me. I guess I'm writing this for myself after all. Who knew?

Thank you to my friends at The Magic Geek for inspiring this post with your latest podcast!

Metro the Hater Jesus

Metro in Tokyo

My friend (and Juju's fiance) Metro is upsetting Bill O'Reilly.

A few months ago, Metro was hired by Everclear to appear in a music video for the song Hater Jesus.

Since he's in the news lately, I'll take this opportunity to capitalize on my friendship with Metro. Let me give you the inside scoop on this Hater Jesus character.

Metro is Evil
Truth be told, Metro really is a very evil person. When he and I auditioned for our sketch comedy group, Metro was sure I wouldn't get cast. We met for the first time in the hallway outside the audition space, and he later told me that he felt sorry for me that I wouldn't be cast in the show. "He's such a nice guy. Too bad I got the part and not him," Metro thought to himself.

Well, we both ended up getting cast. So there.

Metro is Off the Market
A few years later, I orchestrated a romantic evening for Juju and Metro in an effort to bring them together. I'm not saying I had everything to do with their upcoming marriage. But I am proud that I did play a small part in fanning the flame.

Juju asked me to be one of her attendants when they get married next year. So, I will have my first experience as a bridesman! I've been a Best Man a couple times, and have been a groomsman several times, so it will be very interesting to stand on the other side.

Metro is My Mentor
It is Metro's fault that I ever found out about World of Warcraft. He's helped me through some of the dungeons and assisted me in getting some great weapons and armor, which is accomplished by killing various beasts and monsters in the game.

Metro Speaks Japanese
Metro was the organizer for the trip to Tokyo in January, and he was an awesome tour guide.

I Slept With Metro
I only bragged about it once before, but now that he's making the news, I feel it is important to reaffirm my status as "Star Spooner".


Toddy and Metro Gaming in Tokyo

Housesitting for Pony (A Short Play)

Scene One

Todd is asleep. It is 12:30 a.m.

Noel, a timid gray cat, jumps up on the bed and stares at Todd for a moment.

Noel: Hi.

Todd does not respond

Noel: Hi. (Beat) I said hi.

Todd: (waking) Wha? Huh? Oh. Hi.

Noel: Hellooooo!

Todd: Hi.

Noel: Hi.

Todd: Hi.

Noel: Pet me, or else I will keep saying "hi".

Todd: Okay, okay. How's that?

Noel: Prrrrrrr.

Noel jumps down from the bed.

Scene Two

Todd is asleep. It is 1:30 a.m.

Noel jumps up on the bed and stares at Todd for a moment.

Noel: Hi.

Todd does not respond

Noel. Hi. (beat) I said hi.

Todd: (waking) Wha? Huh? Oh. Hi.

Noel: Hellooooo!

Todd: Hi.

Noel: Hi.

Todd: Hi.

Noel: Pet me, or else I will keep saying hi.

Todd: Ugh. C'mon, Noel. I'm so tired!

Noel: HI. HELLO!! HOWDY!!!!

Todd: Fine! There. I'm petting you!!

Noel: Prrrrrrr.

Noel jumps down from the bed.

Scene Three

Todd is in bed drinking whiskey. It is 2:30 a.m.

Noel jumps up on the bed and stares at Todd for a moment.

Todd: What. What do you want.

Noel: Hi.

Todd: Hi, Noel. Hi.

Noel: Hi.

Todd: Hi.

Noel: Hi.

Todd: Hi.

Noel: Pet me, or else I will keep saying hi.

Todd: This is the last time for tonight, Noel. I have to get up for work in a few hours.

Todd pets Noel.

Noel: Prrrrrrr.

Noel jumps down from the bed.

Scene Four

Todd is asleep clutching a pillow over his head. It is 4:30 a.m. Several prescription bottles of sleeping pills are open on the nightstand next to Todd.

Noel jumps up on the bed.

Noel: Hi.

Todd: Hmmmm.

Noel: Hello. Howdy. Hi, hi, hi, hi, hi.

Todd: Go away. I am too tired to pet you anymore.

Noel: I came in an hour ago, and you ignored me.

Todd: I was passed out. I took sleeping pills.

Noel: They seem to be wearing off.

Todd: Apparently.

Noel: Good. Now you can pet me.

Todd: Noel...

Noel: Hi. (Beat) Hi. (Beat) Hello!

Todd: I hate my life.

Todd pets Noel.

Noel: Prrrr.

Noel is about to jump off the bed and stops. She turns to Todd.

Noel: See you in an hour.

Noel jumps off bed. Todd cries into his pillow.

THE END

Easily Distracted....

Damn it. I found the perfect sticker for my truck while I was in Chicago. It perfectly summarized my problem with Attention Deficit Disorder. The sticker reads, "Easily Distracted by Shiny Objects".

I lost it. I can't find the sticker anywhere. When I got back from my trip, I took the sticker out of my suitcase to show Auburn Pisces, and I don't know where I put it.

I lost my ADD sticker.

I first discovered I had ADD when I read a book about the disorder. Then I lost the book when CT and I were staying in a hotel one weekend. On the day we were checking out of the hotel, I found the Attention Deficit Disorder book hanging on the towel rack in the bathroom.

I can't believe Pony gave me keys to his house. Especially since the last time he gave me his housekey, I lost it in New York City.

The Real World

I had a dream the other night that I was a cast member on MTV's Real World, and then a special twist was revealed. I was singled out from the other cast members and taken to a top secret location where it was revealed that I was to appear simultaneously on another popular reality show, Survivor. I was the first Real World cast member to be chosen for Survivor at the same time, so MTV decided to make that part of my story line.

The dream went on for what seemed like hours. I really had to fight to compete against the other Survivors because, as it turns out, I had joined the cast after two Survivors had already been voted out. All the other competitors had already established alliances, and I was just the "new guy from MTV's Real World".

I lasted through the first couple of tribal councils, and I started working on the other Survivors to get them to trust me and let me join their alliances. I think I had a good chance of winning, but then Pony's cat, Noel, woke me up.

Yes, I am once again sleeping in Pony's bed. Not with Pony, though. I'm just housesitting for him while he's on vacation!

For Single People Only!

Okay, I've changed my mind about the whole gay marriage thing. I have decided that I no longer believe in it. Not at all. I think it ruins everything.

See, the thing is, gay marriage is making my friends boring. They are all coupled up and talking about their gardens and talking about their pets as if they were children. Some of them are even talking about adopting children because, I assume, pet food is too expensive.

I used to spend my Friday nights running around town with The Handsome Prince. We would have entire conversations with our eyes locked on the television screens playing porn. After a while, we'd realize that we hadn't looked at each other for about 20 minutes or so. From the dryness of our eyes, we also realized we hadn't blinked. We would laugh our heads off, and we'd have adventures, which I'd write about here on Hot Toddy's Toaster Oven.

Now I call him up and hear, "No, I can't go out tonight because my boyfriend and I were out until after 8:30 last night, and the night before that my boyfriend and I missed Cooking with Paula Dean on The Food Network. Tonight I have tons of gardening to do and my boyfriend is going to help me, and then my boyfriend and I are going to make dinner. After my boyfriend and I eat it, we're going to turn in for the night because we have had way too many 10:30 bedtimes lately! It's all the gardening, I think. We want to garden, garden, garden all the time because it is summer and the sun doesn't go down till late, and we like gardening! We love gardening, my boyfriend and I!!"

"Okay, have fun," I say and try calling another friend. This one actually joins me at the bar, but I soon realize that I am providing a much needed escape from his husband. He complains, "My husband doesn't agree with me about this, and my husband also thinks something about something. Can you believe my husband feels that way? Why would my husband think something about something!? That is so unreasonable. It seems like the only time my husband and I get along is when we are gardening or shopping for patio furniture or painting the den. Did you see the color my husband and I painted the den? Did you see our new patio furniture? Did you see the flowers we planted last Sunday afternoon?!? We will have to invite you over to see all the flowers and furniture and look at the paint on the walls!!"

"Yay," I say.

One night, I swear to god, my friends planned a camping trip for couples as I sat right there at the table with them. I was the only single person at the table. "Oh, Toddy, of course we want you to come too!"

"Thanks," I say.

A few months ago, I was invited to a party with a drink menu that included "couple-themed and romance" drinks. I asked if the menu could be broadened to include an unloved loser single person drink too. Something like, oh, I don't know, a Maker's Mark straight up? The drink of heartache and loneliness! Cheers!!

A couple weeks ago I asked one half of a couple if he and I could go see a movie together. It was a very specific movie that I wanted to see with that very specific friend. (His boyfriend too, of course. I love them both!) I received a voice mail Sunday morning in which he informed me that he and his boyfriend were leaving to go see "that movie you wanted to see with us". He let me know I could meet them at the theater in 45 minutes if I wanted to join them. Clearly, the boyfriend trumps the friend when it comes to movie dates. I mean, it isn't like he would have gone to see the movie alone. Nobody calls and says, "I know you want to see this movie together. Well, I am going right this second. I can't wait a moment longer. So meet me at the theater if you still want to see it together." But, since he has a built-in movie date right there in bed with him, he doesn't have to wait around to see if I can actually meet him or not.

I think this post was supposed to be funny. Oops.

Oh, and another thing...

The friends who, a few months ago, told me that I need to enjoy being single are now partnered. They lean their heads together and whisper at the bar as I stare into space and enjoy being single. They can't go out with me because they need to spend some quality time together, so I just stay home and spend quality time with myself and "enjoy being single". I do not always want to go out as a trio. Sometimes, old friend, I still want it to be just you and me. I don't understand why it can't work that way.

It is not that I don't want these friends to be partnered, but I miss feeling like I belonged with them - that I had something in common with them. They have turned into Stepford Married People who no longer seem to get me. They once understood how much I wanted to find exactly what they all found, so it surprises me when they can't see how much it is killing me for them to talk about "marrieds only camping trips" or "couple-themed drinks". It's a big country club that I'm just not classy enough to join. Now I don't even think I want to join. Not if I have to turn into a relationship robot.

So, I am just going to schedule a huge singles blowout and only invite my single friends. I must have a single friend around here somewhere. Let me think....

Anyway, we will show them! We'll talk about our huge beds and our weed-filled yards (for those of us fortunate enough to own a home). We'll have single-themed drinks like the Eternal Masturbator or the Ride Alone on the Rollercoaster! We'll eat individual sized microwave pizzas and just be "happy to be single".

Hot Toddy's Eating Disorder

As a very flaky person, I often go through short phases or experiences, and then I get bored with it and move on. This weekend I had an eating disorder that lasted from Friday to Sunday. Then on Monday night I was cured.

It all started last week. The germination period for my full-blown eating disorder began sometime around Monday or Tuesday. I went to the gym every day, and I made a goal to eat several small meals throughout the day in an effort to lower my body fat. Things went well. I tried to eat something every two hours. A cup of yogurt at 10 a.m., a salad at noon, some pretzels and a V8 juice at 2 p.m., etc.

My metabolism was boosted and by Wednesday I already felt lighter. At the bar (like I'm giving THAT up) I alternated vodka and club soda with bottled water. I drank much less and my bar tab was amazingly manageable.

Something strange started happening to me on Friday. My food portions were so small that I was starving all day. I had plans to visit The Handsome Prince and The Math Whiz at The Vortex that night, so I ate half a baked potato and didn't even eat the skin. I was famished when I showed up to their house, but I refused the pizza they offered.

On Saturday I had an english muffin with vegetarian bacon strips for breakfast and a whole pot of coffee. I might have eaten a tomato slice or two that day. I can't remember if I had anything else until I went to Pony's house for a cookout (after the gym, of course). I ate half a grilled chicken breast without the skin. Then I literally ate a scrap of a hamburger and half a spoon of potato salad that Auburn Pisces couldn't finish.

Sunday was the day I should have checked into the clinic for eating disorders, but instead I continued to obsess about everything I put in my mouth. I had V8 juice for breakfast and drank protein shakes every couple hours. When I met up with friends that night, they ordered artichoke/spinach dip with french bread. I had five morsels of bread and dip and then stupidly drank three or four margaritas. (I never claimed to have common sense, did I?)

Monday I called in sick to work. I don't even want to talk about the way my body reacted to my Karen Carpenter weekend. My self-esteem yesterday was scraping rock bottom. I hated myself, and I had a headache that wouldn't go away even after I ate some egg whites. As I sat on the front porch with Auburn Pisces and someone else (I forget who) and moaned about my pathetic state, her motherly instincts kicked in. She made me a big steak and cauliflower with garlic bread for dinner. Then we watched my favorite movie, Living Out Loud. I sat there feeling satisfied and happy and realized I'd been acting like an idiot for several days.

Today I had a breakfast burrito (sour cream is bad, but I ate it anyway) and then worked out before lunch. Lunch was a healthy salad with grilled chicken. I bought two bananas to eat this afternoon, and I will make sure I eat dinner tonight before I go to CC's.

Actually, this may sound like I'm making fun of eating disorders, but I'm not. To be honest, I can understand how such a disorder would be hard to conquer. I'm sure the number of people who suffer from eating disorders is bigger than we think. I'm just glad that my Attention Deficit Disorder trumps any other. I get too bored to have a full-fledged disorder of any other kind. In fact, I'm bored writing about this now and need to go find something shiny to look at.

We are Huge

Photo by Windy City Times for Gay Games VII

When I left Chicago on Sunday, I brought with me a feeling of enormousness. Not from the Chicago stuffed pizza that took me two days to finish, but from the enormity of our community. We have hearts that are huge, and we have power that is unbelievable.

Being part of a community that is considered a "minority" can be challenging and, sometimes, discouraging. We watch our friends plan weddings knowing that we can't have the same right. We hear that our lives are an abomination, and that our love is nothing more than uncontrollable lust. We are sometimes tempted to hide our truth, or at least water it down.

At Gay Games VII, I often felt overwhelmed by emotion. Thousands of athletes and fans from all over the world assembled for the opening and closing ceremonies. No picture, sound recording or video could ever truly capture the power of those events. You had to be there. You had to feel the energy.

We face heartbreaking setbacks, but we endure. Anti-gay protestors shout condemnation and rant about our alleged sins, but we remain strong. We should be proud of ourselves.

Sometimes we do things to each other that are shameful. We divide ourselves into subcategories of gays, lesbians, transexuals, bisexuals. The muscularity of our bodies or beauty of our faces or number of wrinkles on our skin are brought into focus, or, worse, cause us to be completely ignored by others in our community. We fight amongst ourselves and belittle one another. It's sad when we act just like everybody else.

We're not like everybody else. Never have been. It is time for us to seize our power, and the only way to do that is become unified. Stop feeling alone, because you're not. Instead, reach out and find your family. We're here, and we're huge.

The People in My Neighborhood

In case you've been wondering about them....

1. Auburn Pisces is alive and well (and happy). She's taking a break from blogging, but I know she'll eventually be back. I made sure she knows people are asking about her!

2. The Handsome Prince and The Math Whiz are still together. In fact, they are getting married next spring! We still hang out, and we adore each other. It's just that I don't have as many stories about them since I no longer live with them.

3. My boyfriend is being incredibly elusive. I've been single for almost a year, which is a record for me. I don't know who he is or where he is or when he is showing up, but I seem to be doing fine without him. Pony told me the other day that he likes me better "this way". Whatever that means!

Pride and Spirit

Photo by John Faier

Gay Games VII was life-changing and powerful. I wish that everyone could experience the spirit of the event at least once in his or her life. I have so many wonderful memories. And I came home with some medals:

I won a Gold medal for Surreptitious Drinking. Drinks were expensive in Chicago so I had to come up with some clever ideas for smuggling my cocktails.

I also won a Gold medal in New Friendships. Rick and Debbi and the Evil Gay Lawyer were so much fun. Thank you all for making my trip so great. All of you wrote such nice things about me, and I thank you for telling lies and making me sound way cooler than I am. None of you wrote about what a flake I am, and I truly appreciate it.

Rick and I went to see Margaret Cho together as well as a Sondheim in the Park concert. We browsed at Virgin Records (since we are both virgins) and talked each other out of spending any money. We ate a fantastic dinner and also had drinks at Sidetrack (Rick wanted me to experience the awesomeness of Show Tune Night).

Evil Gay Lawyer accompanied me to the Physique competition where my friend Muscle Chick won a bronze medal! EGL has a much different style than Rick. While Rick stroked my ego and made me feel special, EGL teased me and harassed me at every step. So, naturally, I fell for him. The best way to win me over is to give me a hard time, and EGL was a master at this. He made fun of me for losing my ticket stub. Then he gave me his ticket stub so I could get back into the arena after I went to the men's room. Then I lost his ticket stub, so he had to sneak back in when it was his turn to visit the men's room. EGL is currently being swept off his feet by a guy in Chicago, so I only got to see him that one day, but I had a great time with him. I thought he would be more evil than he was. He's actually a nice guy. As I told him when he exited the train Tuesday night, I'm glad he had a chance to meet me. He is lucky.

Debbi and her daughter came into the city to meet me for dinner, and we had a great meal and a fun time getting to know each other better. She took me to one of her favorite restaurants, where I had yet another wonderful meal. I almost never go out to eat in Portland, so I really enjoyed dining out while I was in Chicago. Debbi reminds me of another wonderful Deb who loves her gays. Just being in Debbi's presence made me feel proud! She rocks.

I won a Silver Medal for Walking My Ass off in Chicago. My pedometer logged 213,698 steps. I'm wearing the silly thing for a contest we're having at work. Let me tell you, nothing attracts the boys like wearing a pedometer. I don't want to talk about it.

I took the Bronze in Friend Juggling. I didn't do as great in that event. See, I was trying to coordinate my time with the aforementioned Chicago bloggers as well as hanging out with Muscle Chick, her girlfriend, Wonder Woman, and my friend The Professor (also in Chicago for a visit last week) and his boyfriend (who I haven't yet come up with a name for). I kept having to call people and change plans at the last minute. I stood people up, arrived late, forgot to return calls and annoyed everyone like crazy. I don't know why people put up with me.

I have a ton of stories about the week, and I'll do my best to recount them here. Tomorrow I'll have to tell you about a very special benefit concert I performed for pigeons. If you don't think you can wait, you could always check out the story on last week's Todd & Pony Show.

Now Will You Listen to Todd & Pony Show?

This is The Golden Boy, who often sits on my lap while wearing nothing but a towel on Tuesdays when I go to Happy Five Hours. Aren't I lucky? He's our special guest for this week's Todd & Pony Show podcast.

Our show this week is all about drinking. As you can imagine, I had a really hard time thinking of anything to say. On the podcast, I shared my special drink recipe for the Maker's Mark Old Fashioned.

If you are wondering why I'm doing a podcast with Pony, it's because I need more attention. Yes, even more attention than I'm already getting from Hot Toddy's Toaster Oven.

Sometimes when I am standing in the middle of the street singing the soundtrack from Rent and tapdancing, strangers ask me why I need so much attention. Then I hand them a bullhorn and ask them to please repeat the question so more people on the street will notice our conversation. When the cops finally show up to remove me from the middle of the road, I always pray that they will be filming a Portland episode of Cops, but so far that hasn't happened. If I got arrested on the television show Cops it would be a great way to get attention and to also plug my blog. The thing is, once somebody is arrested on that show you never see or hear from them again. I wouldn't like that. I would like the cameras to follow me and document my life in the slammer. Or I would want to at least be on a Cops reunion show where they bring back all the arrested people for a panel discussion. Maybe we could have a Cops All-Stars competition where we hardened criminals compete for cash and prizes on a desert island. Or we all have to live in a house together and have our lives taped to find out what happens when people stop being polite and start getting real.

Anyway, the point is, I think you should listen to our Todd & Pony Show, otherwise I might wither and die from lack of attention.

The Reward Challenge

This isn't about me. It's about you.

My favorite thing about survivor, besides hunks, is the reward challenge.

Every week the survivors compete for rewards like food and letters from home and blankets. Sometimes the winners are flown to a resort for massages, food, wine and a nice warm bed to sleep in.

A year ago I began a reward challenge that led me through quicksand and required that I swing across vines over crocodile infested waters. I sustained bruises and abrasions, fell down, passed out, sprained my muscles and broke bones.

I was lied to, stabbed in the back, lied to again, mocked, ridiculed and humiliated. He said he'd be back, but he never planned on coming back to me. He was sick, very sick, and never told me. He made promises of a future together and a house together and even children of our own, and all the while he knew he couldn't keep any of those promises. I no longer know what was true and what wasn't.

During the challenge I cried many tears and experienced deep sorrow and depression. Then came medication. Then more tears.

This isn't about me. It's about you. Let it out. Cry and rage and scream.

Friends surrounded me, and yet I've never felt more alone. At times, I just wanted to end it all. I wanted to be voted off this island called Life. But nobody voted me off, so I had to keep competing. I didn't believe there would even be a reward at the end of the challenge. I thought I was fighting for nothing, which really makes it hard to hang onto the vine as the crocodiles snap at you.

In December last year when life felt hopeless, I made a decision to fight, even though I really didn't want to. My friends, too many to list, held my hand and told me not to seek answers in bottles of booze. They encouraged me and stuck by me. But I needed more than encouragement from friends. I had to believe there was a point to it all. I had to believe it for myself. For motivation, I placed a reward at the finish line so it would seem worthwhile to keep running.

The Toddtender, such a great friend, talked to me about playing softball. That has changed my life. I think that is when I started believing I could win the reward challenge. Then I broke my toe (twice) and thought I couldn't play after all. But I healed and made it to the first game. This weekend, after I caught a fly ball, I heard the Toddtender cheering for me, even though my catch caused his team an out. He's told me many times over the past few weeks that he is proud of me. I'm proud too. God, I'm so proud to have him for a friend.

This isn't about me. It's about you. Who is your friend? Lean on him.

I had two car wrecks in the midst of the reward challenge. I could only shake my head and ask, "why me?". Then I got mad. That helped me fight harder. No way was I going to let that throw me back into depression. I'd survived so much by that point, and I'd be damned if a couple setbacks would stop me.

Somehow, I got to the finish line. I won.

This Friday, one year after I began the challenge, I'll get my reward. I'll board a plane for Chicago to watch thousands of gay athletes from over 70 countries compete in their own challenges at Gay Games VII. I'll bring all of you with me. For all the friends who watched me run the race and cheered for me, I'll toast you from my seat in first class (hey, it's a REWARD - of course I'm flying first class).

As I watch the competitors next week, I'll be thinking a lot about what makes us winners. How do we conquer the seemingly impossible challenges in our lives? How can we overcome debt and heartache? How do we win against disease and depression and loss? How can we keep fighting when we aren't given equal rights, and when we're hated?

The point is, we just do it. We keep fighting. We'll sustain wounds and feel like quitting. We'll feel oppressed and discriminated against and left out. Sometimes it will seem like there's no hope. We'll feel like the pain in our hearts will never ever go away.

I do not think it is coincidental that I'm going to Chicago at this particular time. Rick, who is a friend to me and to many of you, is going through his own challenge right now. My hope is that I can offer him some cheer and encouragement. I want him to know he's not swinging on that vine by himself. Lots of us are with him.

This isn't about me. It's about you. You can survive your challenges. You can overcome your debt. You can move on after your lover lies to you and leaves you with empty promises. You can find peace when you lose a loved one. You may be in the middle of a reward challenge right now, but look ahead to the reward. It's there waiting for you.

Personal. Do Not Read.

One very important thing everyone needs to know is that it is absolutely wrong to write about personal finances on the internet. You should never reveal these highly personal facts to strangers. Write about anything you want, unless it involves money. Keep money matters to yourself!

Now that my public service announcement is out of the way, I'm going to tell you all about my personal finances.

When I was 29 and fresh from the cult, I was broke. Each year that I spent in the International Church of Christ saw my income decline because I kept quitting jobs and moving to new places. I had a decent job when I joined the church, but they fired me because I became an irritating prick who tried to convert everyone in my office. Then I quit another job to move into a different zone of the church so that I could lead the "singles' ministry". Then I quit another job to move to Annapolis, MD and help start up a new "house church". My income in 1995 was about $9,000. And I gave 10 percent of that back to the church.

Needless to say, when CT and I became partners he had to have a very serious talk with me. He told me that he wanted to be with me, but he didn't want to support me. He wanted me to pull my own weight.

CT, who was 27 at the time, had inherited a lot of money, but he paid a terrible price for it. He lost both of his parents within two years of each other. The guy he was with before me felt entitled to CT's money, and he abused CT's kindness. So, when CT and I got together he was finished being a Sugar Daddy. (I know, my timing sucks!)

I did my best to contribute to our household, but CT always wanted to go out for dinner, and he loved shopping. I remember many days at the mall just following him around watching him buy things for himself. I didn't have two nickels to rub together.

One day he said he wanted to go out to eat, and I told him I couldn't. "I'm broke. I have nothing," I told him.

"I'm broke too, but we can splurge, can't we?" he reasoned.

When CT said he was broke, it meant he only had a couple hundred dollars in his checking account. So I tried to explain to him that when I said I was broke, I meant completely lacking in currency.

"Okay, but it isn't like you have no money. I mean, you have an IRA and stuff right?"

The fact that, after at least three years together, my partner thought I had an Individual Retirement Account hidden away somewhere just made me laugh. Why, only a few years earlier he witnessed my filing for bankruptcy!

To file for bankruptcy at the age of 30 is humiliating. I will never forget the way I felt when the judge asked me how I had gotten myself into such a financial mess. I didn't dare mention my affiliation with the church. The wound was too fresh. So I just attempted to use my boyish charm. "I haven't been making as much money as I spend," I giggled. He didn't find it endearing. Not in the least.

Since 1996, I've received the worst credit card offers (Rebuild Your Credit! APPLY NOW for a Visa at 22% APR!!) and took out a car loan at a ridiculous rate. I couldn't get a credit card at Best Buy. I'm pretty sure I would have been declined a Target credit card (not that I wanted one).

I did feel awful about not paying my debts. I mean, I didn't feel guilty enough to go back and repay those credit card companies, but I still felt that what I'd done was wrong. The only thing that made me feel justified was all the huge corporations and airlines declaring bankruptcy ever other week. I figured they should be able to handle money better than I did!

Over the years I got better jobs and started a 401k and opened a savings account. I worked really hard to reduce debt. One year I wrote down every single penny I spent (literally) in a little notebook. At the end of the month, I could account for every cent. One Sunday morning as I tallied my expenditures for the month, my total showed that I should have 34 cents left. I went into the bedroom and counted the money on top of my dresser. I had a quarter and nine pennies.

The only reason I am telling you all of this is so you won't think I am a big baby when I tell you that I cried last week when I checked my credit report. I paid for access to my credit report on line, and I couldn't believe what I found there.

Your credit rating is: Excellent
Your credit score is higher than 55.8% of U.S. consumers

A tear fell down my cheek, and I bit my lip and remembered the day CT told me he wouldn't support me, letting me know I had to pull myself out of the pit with my own strength. The stern face of the bankruptcy court judge looking down at me flashed in my mind, followed by an image of the Exxon card I used to buy groceries one week when I had no money and nothing to eat.

So I read my credit report, and I cried.

Why I Love Softball Tournaments

Cascade Cup 2006

I love softball tournaments because...
You can get your picture taken with your team, although, if you're 6'6" you have to stand all the way in the back.

Cubs 2006


Just because it's a competition doesn't mean you have to take yourself seriously.


The groundskeeper for the stadium made sure everything looked beautiful. I watched him the whole day just to make sure he was doing his job.

Trust me. I didn't take my eyes off him.


The drinks at our closing ceremony were very stiff.


Really, really stiff. I'm serious.


My friend Christina won MVP and I think my hair looks really cute in this picture where I'm getting up to hug her.

I'm happy she won, but I'm ecstatic about my hair.


And the number one reason I love softball...

Sunblock


Thanks to Jim for the great photos!

My Favorite Handshake

I have never enjoyed shaking someone's hand more than the softball player I met on Saturday night.

After our tournament games on Saturday, I was talking to the Toddtender at a softball party held at CC Slaughters, and this cute girl walks up to me and reaches out her hand.

"Hi. You caught the ball I hit into right field today. I was so mad at you. It was the first time I've ever been able to place the ball in right field."

That was such a great moment. All those years I spent being afraid of sports - sure that I had no athletic ability whatsoever. Hell, the whole reason I quit playing flag football in elementary school was because I thought I could never get any better at it. I was asked to join the swim team in high school, but I declined because I thought I'd cause our team to lose every swim meet. I never played basketball because I thought I couldn't learn the rules.

All of it was a lie.

Why do we let ourselves be brainwashed when we're young? Kids take in everything they hear. The world tells them who they are, and children believe it. Gay men face this more than most men, since we're programmed to believe we are not normal or that we aren't real men. Anybody, straight or gay, who has the idea that gay men are "less than" just needs to spend a single Sunday afternoon at the ballpark watching Portland gay softball teams play. I saw some of the studliest guys I've ever seen this weekend, and they were serious athletes. VERY tough competition.

My team didn't place in the tournament, and I know that I have lots of room for improvement. However, I did race to home plate in a rather dramatic moment during one of the games and scored a run for our team. (The opposing team was sure I'd stop at third base, but I surprised them!)

I caught a couple pop flies and even had an umpire tell me, "That was a nice catch you made out there today, sir."

Me?

Yes, me! Shake my hand!