Category: me

Neglect

dorky pic of me in the gym one day

In my previous ramble about fitness and the gym, I’ve gotten in the habit of neglecting my lower body. Cardio is all but non-existent these days. lol I don’t have bird legs or anything but I’ve been incorporating more lower body exercises into my routines again. This is good for obvious reasons but it also motivates me to get into the gym that extra day every week when I would normally tend to blow it off. You can only push your muscles so far so fast. They need time to recover. So now having more muscles to work means extra time in da gym while allowing other muscles to recover…a win win!

I’ve also been hitting my glutes over the last couple weeks. Let me tell you they are sore as hell! I worked’em on Monday and I’m still effin’ sore today. [1]One-leg lunges using the smith-machine are da bomb-diggity! Oy vey, they hurt! I feel like powerbottom brettcajun after an all night orgy.

Anyway, I’m seeing results. I’m sad to say I’d let my glutes get a little less than plump in the last couple years. But, they are bouncing back nice and proper now. hehehe Next on the agenda are my calves. I want 3″ on those bad boys! My calves used to be one of my best features [2]get your minds out of my gutter bitches back in the day. They haven’t shrunk, I just haven’t been keeping them in check with the rest of my growth.

If you see an updated on twitter or Google+ with me yelling, “I’ve fallen and can’t get up”, you know I overdid it one day. lol

References

References
↑1 One-leg lunges using the smith-machine are da bomb-diggity!
↑2 get your minds out of my gutter bitches

Blah

I was supposed to work out my chest today but felt kinda blah. I’m either fighting off a cold/flu or my allergies are acting up. Either way, I switched to my lats/glutes since my concentration was off a bit. All I need is to injury myself in a moment of carelessness. I still managed to get my workout in but it was lackluster. I’m gonna grab one of the Odwalla Wellness drinks on the way to work. Nothing like a good lymphatic flush to get you feeling better again.

*

On a side note, I started a new tumblr blog focused on my self-portraits. No nothing x-rated but still not always something I want posted here. My blog is known by more than a few of my coworkers and there are just some things about me they don’t need to read about! lolol 

I wonder how many of you here can guess what the URL is? Don’t post it but if you find it post a comment there. heehee

Dad

Continuing in the last vein of thought, I’m looking back over my life with my father. Much of it was harsh but in the end, I felt we made a strong closure.

My dad only passed in the last decade so naturally his memories are stronger in my mind and nothing has blurred. I remember the early days with him when my foster mom was still alive. I remember moving from Louisiana to East TX with an extended layover in Houston. [1]What I didn’t know at the time was this was when my foster mom was first diagnosed with cancer. I remember how happy my dad was to be in the country. [2]Which was even more remote than my home town, if you can believe it. lol  I remember how he embraced our new life in the wilderness. He was a man alive and it was obvious he loved his life at that time. I remember him building our house. I remember being curled up in his lap sitting in the giant window overlooking the new wilderness we lived in. I remember him reading to me in that same window. His reading sparked my own love of reading and zest for knowledge. I remember him guiding and counseling me when I was plagued by nightmares and spirits. He didn’t make fun of me or make light of what I was feeling. I remember the pain in his face when my mom started getting really sick. I remember the nights after she died when he would pass out drunk on the floor in misery. I remember not understanding how someone so big and strong in my eyes was capable of tears. I remember the sadness that came after. I remember being left with my older brother while he worked longer and longer hours.

A couple years later, I can remember meeting what would become my new step-mother. I can remember seeing my dad smile again. I remember how that first year with her was warm and good. I can remember the birth of my younger brother and how happy it made him. I can also remember how hard he worked just to keep clothes on our back. I can remember seeing him so tired from manual labor he would sleep for a solid night and day to recover.

Unfortunately, I can remember the growing rift my step-mother forced between us. I can remember the lies she told him to prevent me from telling him what was really going on. I can remember the bouts of anger when he would lash out at me. I can remember the bruises that remained after. I can remember the day I came out to him when he hurt me like he’d never hurt me before. I can remember for the first time in my life being afraid of him. I can remember the anguish knowing he didn’t love me anymore and that in his eyes I no longer existed. I can remember wondering why I couldn’t be like his real sons. I remember the many years never speaking, never knowing if he ever thought of me.

I remember when he got sick, the kind of sick you don’t recover from. I can remember my brothers telling me to hurry back home before it was too late. I can remember seeing the husk of what used to be a strong/vibrant man, now ravaged by cancer. I can remember for only the 2nd or 3rd time in my life seeing my father cry as he told me for the very first time he regretted what he did to me. I remember seeing the relief that flooded his soul upon hearing I had forgiven him years before for all that he had done. I remember him telling me he loved me and that he was proud of the man I had become. I remember him not wanting me to go when I left to return to SF. I remember knowing in my heart that he would be dead soon. I remember the call sitting in my voicemail when arriving in SF that he had passed. I remember the relief I felt for him then and now. I remember being happy I could give him peace before he died.

Dad, I wish our time together had been longer. I wish we hadn’t lost so many years while I was growing up. I miss the bond we had when I was young and you were my shining light in the darkness of a big bad scary world. We weren’t the closest but I still remember the good that you gave me.

References

References
↑1 What I didn’t know at the time was this was when my foster mom was first diagnosed with cancer.
↑2 Which was even more remote than my home town, if you can believe it. lol

Mom

*This was supposed to be a post about both my parents but it evolved into a post about my mom.  I’ll do a follow up post regarding my dad.*

 

It’s that time of year when I look back on my life. The anniversary of the deaths of both my adopted mother [1]No, NOT my stepmother. I almost never think of her and when I do there is usually a curse word on the tip of my tongue. and father are upon me. While decades apart in occurrence, the calendar dates are weeks apart.

It pains me at times that the memories of my mother’s features are becoming less and less distinct in my mind. I can still see her in my mind but the image is a bit blurry now. Ironically, the memory of our time together is still very strong. I can remember spending hours just watching her sew. I can remember her humming while she cooked dinner at night. I can remember her consoling me when I would hurt myself playing. I can remember her feeding the chickens in the yard. I can remember riding in the back seat of the old car. I can remember how I felt when I realized at the ripe age of 5 she was sick, and not the kind of sick you get better from. I can remember begging her to hold on until I turned 7. I can remember her crying because her heart was breaking seeing me so innocent; begging her to stay, knowing she was powerless to do anything. I can remember after she died watching her family go into hysterics at the funeral. I can remember thinking, "if mommy is with god now, why is everyone so hysterical?" I can remember deciding I would never attend another funeral in my life [2]and I haven’t. I can remember going to her grave site years later begging her to take the gay out of me. (This was when I didn’t understand there was nothing really wrong with me.) I can remember crying on her grave, collapsing in a heap of exhaustion, because I felt guilty for almost taking my own life out of despair when I lost my first love. I can remember the sadness the day I realized I’d lived longer w/o her than I had with her.

Mommy, I still love and miss you. The pain of your loss has ebbed over time but I still remember the love you gave me. I remember when you had no reason at all to take me into your life, you took me with no questions asked and brooked no argument to the contrary from anyone. I’m grateful that before the years of torture and pain from my stepmother that I had a mom I can look back on with love and fond remembrance. And even though I can’t say I think of you as often as I did in those days, I still think of you. I still hold onto the good that you gave me. I hope that where ever you are you know that you made a difference in my young life.

References

References
↑1 No, NOT my stepmother. I almost never think of her and when I do there is usually a curse word on the tip of my tongue.
↑2 and I haven’t.

Double

There is a set of twins that work out at my gym. One is gay and the other is straight. I’ve only recently begun to see them so I think they are new to the city. They always work out together and watching them you can tell they are pretty close. I’ve talked to them in passing a few times. I find myself being a little sad every time I’m around them. I guess it’s a reminder of my own twin that died during childbirth. I can’t remember if I’ve ever discussed that here. We were born 2 months premature and in the 70’s that was still a pretty big deal. I don’t see the need to flesh it out in every detail but obviously, I lived and he didn’t.

As a kid, I used to asked my dad on random occasions what was wrong with me. At the time, my little id had no understanding and I’d tell my dad that I felt broken. He always shrugged it off. Years later, finding out I was a twin was a huge relief because it explained so much. I grew up feeling like there was a big hole inside of me and now I knew why.

For a long time I was extremely bitter about it. I felt cheated in life because I was denied such a precious gift. Growing up very lonely and alone as a child, I think it only made the absence more acute in my mind. I’d speak to him in my dreams thinking I was talking to myself. Anyway, all these years later, I still find that I miss him and there are still times when I feel that hole there inside me. It isn’t the gaping wound it used to be but deep down it still hurts and I’m still just a little bitter about it.

I’ve also made mention in the past that I am a big believer in reincarnation. Well, what you might not know is I’ve always harbored a secret desire to run into my twin again in this life. When Apple guy and I first met, I had such a strong connection to him I secretly fantasized at times that he was my twin come back to me. Looking back on things, I feel completely foolish for thinking such a thing. Not because it was impossible but because I let my desire cloud my judgment. It certainly explained a lot though. My break up with Apple guy was very rough and I’ve repeatedly asked myself why I put up with it for so long. I am beginning to realize the connections and piece it all out. I’ve been overcome with shame, guilt, disappointment, bitterness, and anger along the way.

It wasn’t until I started running into the twins at the gym that things clicked into place. The day in question, I actually locked myself in the upstairs bathroom at the gym and cried for about 20 mins. [1]Lord only knows what everyone thought why I was in there for so long. lol It was a painful and yet liberating revelation though. It allowed me to let go of feelings and wistful thinking that was bringing me emotional harm and preventing me from moving on. For the first time since we split, I finally felt over it and ready to move on.

I find it ironic that every time I think I’ve learned all there is to know about myself, I discover something new. I’m 41 years old and I can feel my thoughts/ideals beginning to settle into constant patterns. I find I question my motives less and less and trust my decisions more and more. All good things, but I’ve always been afraid to reach a point where I no longer examined my actions. I’m proud to say that I am still capable of looking at myself objectively when the need arises. Not to mention, life has an almost sneaky way of showing us things we need to see.

I miss my twin and still hold out the hope that I’ll find him again, in some form. But if not, who knows what my next life holds? I never really believed it when people would tell me I had an old soul. I always felt too insecure and unstable to be an old soul. I’m not so sure anymore now. The older I get and as the length of the life behind me grows, I think this life’s conflict has blinded me at times. Looking back on it, I see a pattern of renewal, progress, and acceptance that just defies logic. I now believe it was and continues to be my soul speaking to my id. The problem is I wasn’t always listening. Ain’t that a kick in the pants?

As always, hope springs eternal. 🙂

References

References
↑1 Lord only knows what everyone thought why I was in there for so long. lol

Better

The growing number of gay teen suicides lately has been deeply disturbing. Those who hate us, emboldened by the vocal nutjobs in the media, find license to continue their hate and even worse, do real harm. They see the freaks on tv and think it’s ok. It is not ok and every single one of us has an obligation to speak out and say so.

While I was fortunate enough to not be bullied that often in school, I did experience it. It wasn’t so much because I was obviously gay but because I was different. Up until I left home, my parents made me wear my hair like Elvis (for lack of a better description). I guess at this point said hairstyle was considered out of style and I got lots of teasing over it. Of course, being poor didn’t help. I was also rather skinny and almost frail at this point in my life. My first real experience was in junior high. My last day of 7th grade a rather obnoxious bully named Corrie snuck up behind me and sucker-punched in the face with his fist. He’d often called me all kinds of names including the F-word. I doubt he really thought I was gay, he just saw me as weak and easy-prey. I folded like a sack of potatoes as it was out of the blue and I didn’t even see him. Everyone around me was equally shocked, even kids who weren’t really keen on me were upset. He thought he got away with it clean but first day of the next school year, they expelled him for a month. At my 10-year re-union I had hoped to encounter him. One, I had beefed up and also had experience and a new-found confidence. I actually went half-expecting to get into a fight with him. Win or lose, he was going to know it was not ok to ever bully me again. He didn’t show. I found out later on he’d been in/out of jail for random crap. One only knows where he is now or if he is even still alive. There were a few other times in my life but for the most part I was lucky in that regard.

My own brush with suicide was based on years of mental-abuse from family and a final kick in the head by the loss of my first love. There was no one there to help me, no one to turn to, and certainly no one to tell me things would improve. While I wasn’t bullied that much, the pain was very real. Call it grace, God, or just dumb luck, I decided against a very permanent solution and moved on with my life. I’ve never forgotten how it made me feel though. The sense of despair and helplessness was awful and it robbed the mind of reason. When you get like that, you begin to look for an escape any way you can. Sadly, suicide often seems like the only way out. I’m living proof that it’s not. It does get better. And while that doesn’t mean life is gonna be all roses and pretty flowers, you do move past it. You discover the world is more than just that confined moment of agony.

I had a kid named Brad reach out to me on my blog some years ago after I had shared my story here. He told me that my post had changed his mind about killing himself and gave him courage to continue on his life. I’ve never heard from him since but it gave me so much joy to know telling my story helped someone else.

I’m happy the say the local police department here did an It Get’s Better video recently. Several of my friends were in it and I couldn’t be prouder. It may seem trivial or even expected coming from a progressive city like SF but I don’t think so. When a law-enforcement agency sends a message of acceptance to our LGBT youth, it is sends a powerful message of hope.

[youtube_sc url=”http://youtu.be/6RMunYfzlGs” autohide=”1″]

 

The point of my ramble today is this. Good or bad, share your story with friends, family, coworkers, and even random strangers if the opportunity arises. It may not be horrific at all but that doesn’t mean your insight can’t help someone else. You never know when someone might be listening or reading. Don’t hide behind indifference. To do so discredits all those who have come before us and will come after us.

DINO’s

DINO is an acronym for Dogs In Need Of Space. I was reading an article a while back from a well-known dog-walker, who is also a blogger, weighing in on the subject. The article went a little viral and was reported on by the local Examiner. I guess I was on the fence because some of the rants I could agree with, others I couldn’t.

The first point I agreed with. Regardless of how cute, cuddly, or adorable an animal looks you should never just assume it is docile and approach it as such. Even if you own a dog(s), you should still check with a strange dog’s owner first. If you don’t check, don’t get your knickers in a twist when the dog snaps at you, or worse, bites your dumb ass for trying to pet it. Dogs can react, sometimes violently, when they feel threatened. Case and point, Spike was a very docile lovable animal. I never saw him snap at anyone until a nasty smelling homeless guy tried to pet him unannounced once day. Spike reared around, bared his teeth, and snapped at him. He clearly wasn’t trying to bite as much as send a message. I was surprised as the guy was. I then snapped at the guy and told him to stay his stinking ass away from my dog and he should never try to pet a strange dog. He reeked from like 4 feet away. I had to scold Spike as well because he couldn’t be allowed to do that but inside I was tickled pink. lol The point is that even the most docile breeds have their bad days or bad dogs, not to mention you have no idea how well (or not) the animal has been treated/trained.

From my own experiences, the worst DINO’s are often the ones where the owner encourages its bad behavior because he/she thinks it’s cute. Dogs can have varied temperments based on their breed as well as upbringing. With a wealth of info at your fingertips via a quick Google search, it is silly not to spend a modicum of time learning about your dog. The biggest mistake I see is when owners project their own thinking onto their dog. Dogs think like dogs not humans. No matter how cute they are, a dog will often try to establish dominance and/or protect what they perceive as their space and/or owner. While the owner might think this is admirable, he/she is setting the dog up for a lifetime of confrontation and problems. The dog should be taught it is not the pack leader and must abide by the rules. The more this is reinforced the happier it and you will be.

As a responsible dog owner, you have to also know the limits of your dog. If your dog is not friendly to humans or other dogs, do not put the dog in situations where it is forced to react. While this is not always avoidable, it can be anticipated and handled w/o a lot of fuss. And here is where I diverge from the article author’s point of view. The author implied everyone should know not all dogs are friendly. I disagree. As mentioned above, you should use a little common sense when approaching a strange animal, but not everyone has experience w/pets. Some people grow up w/o ever having had any pets. Always assumming others know to ask first is not a realistic expectation, especially if your dog is a DINO. Right or wrong etiquette wise, under the law if your dog attacks someone, you are liable under both civil and criminal statutes. And for [insert deity of choice here] sake, don’t tie it up and leave it alone in public spaces if it is the least bit aggressive. As its owner, you can be charged with a crime if the dog does damage to public property or worse, bites someone. Even if the bite doesn’t break the skin, the dog could be removed from your care, permanently in a worst case scenario. (And yes, in my line of work I’ve seen it happen.)

Another example of stupidity is when owners drag their dogs everywhere, including indoor spaces, and proceed to get their knickers in a twist when people naturally want to pet their dog. As an example, a guy used to bring his puppy into Bearbucks [1]Starbucks in the gaborhood every day. The puppy was cute/cuddly and very friendly. The owner would get annoyed at everyone who tried to pet his dog. He even had the nerve to bring a note one day and post it next to the dog while it was sitting out looking for attention. Even worse, he would complain to the employees about it! They finally got tired of his perpetual whining and asked him not to bring the dog back inside. The moral: If you put your dog in a situation where he is surrounded by people, you are an idiot for thinking no one will want to pet him.

When people act out like this they also abuse a business’s trust in them to manage their dog indoors. This makes it hard for all pet owners. A little common sense goes along way. On a side rant, if a business asks you not to bring your dog in, be respectful and don’t bring it in. Your thoughts on the matter are irrelevant as it is not your business. They have every right to not allow pets. Just like you have the option to not do business there. Throwing a fit and being a bully just makes you look like an ass.

As for Cooper, he is a very friendly dog, even too friendly. He will go up to virtually anyone for attention. Being a puppy and still learning rules, he can get very rambunctious. [2]Oddly, he still gets super hyper when company is over vs being much tamer outdoors. That being said, even in his short time with me he is learning what is acceptable and not. I want him to grow up to be a friendly, happy, and well-behaved doggie. When encountering other dogs Cooper immediately wants to play and will make a bee-line for the other dog. I ask other dog owners before he gets too close to see how they feel. If their dog is friendly, we let them interact. If not, we do not. It’s as simple as that. So far, Cooper hasn’t shown much of an aggressive side. Well, let me rephrase that. He doesn’t try to start trouble with other dogs and most often even when another dog becomes aggressive, he just looks on. He certainly seems able to defend himself but I wouldn’t call that aggressive.

As for other people, while I don’t mind people petting Cooper, I try to encourage folks to ask first. I certainly don’t get pissy about it if they don’t, especially if he is inside a public place with me. I find a polite encouragement goes along way though. I guess the moral here is both sides should exercise a little common sense but neither should assume the other knows the rules. Ironic how that could apply to a variety of other scenarios. lol

References

References
↑1 Starbucks
↑2 Oddly, he still gets super hyper when company is over vs being much tamer outdoors.

Birth’ed

Well, it’s official boys and gurls. Yours truly is 41 years old. [1]Or, 39.95 + tax   Strange, as I don’t feel 41. Well, that’s half true. Age and wisdom has certainly given me some perspective. Not to mention, the grey is slowly creeping its way down my body. lol That said, I still don’t feel it. It’s hard to explain. I guess you can say I’ve held only my youthful outlook on things.

I don’t make a big fuss over my birthdays. I guess when I get to an age that is uncommon then I can make a bit to-do over it. Until then, I try to spend quality time with friends. This weekend I’m catching the new Underworld with a group and then Boys for Balls (charity bowling event). It promises to be a fun weekend.

I’m still very optimistic about the future and look forward to life. That is a good thing IMHO.

References

References
↑1 Or, 39.95 + tax

Extra Large

Nothing dirty, get your mind out of my gutter. But you should be logged in if you’re not.

Has anyone noticed that t-shirt sizes seem to be shrinking and pant sizes seem to be growing? WTF is up with that? lol I was recently shopping for a zip-up hoodie and none of the sizes fit me. I had to end up getting an extra-large. While I’m first to admit I’ve put on some muscle in the last 10 years, I’m not that damn big. And for some odd reason, clothing manufacturer’s never seem to make t-shirts the same size across brands. Even when shopping within the same brand, I often find I have to check sizes. It drives me nuts. I’m what I like to call a hybrid shopper. I like to shop but I don’t like wasting tons of time trying on clothes, especially for t-shirts. Once I become familiar with a brand, I like knowing I can grab a shirt I like, hit the checkout, and be done with it.

It is frustrating as hell to try to shop for shirts because you have to try every single freaking shirt on before you buy it. And then hope/pray it doesn’t shrink, even when it’s not supposed to, after you wash it. [1]That’s a whole other pet-peeve! Why can’t they do like shoe companies and show a size based on what country the shoe is being sold in? While I still try on shoes before I buy, I never have to jump sizes. A size 10 is always a size 10 (with only a small difference between shoes and boots). Oh and even worse, when you buy cheap shirts, it is just the opposite. You buy a small and it drags your knees! lol

References

References
↑1 That’s a whole other pet-peeve!

Resolute Poot

So 2011 is over and I couldn’t be happier to see it go. I was off from work this year for NYE, thankfully. My NYE consisted of sushi early enough to avoid the crowds and cheesy/funny kung-fu movies on the TV with Cooper passed out next to me. I caught the ball-drop on Tivo.

It was an absolute shitty year for me personally and I’m more than ready for 2012, our last year together. [1]According to the lunies, the world will end this year because the Mayan’s decided to stop counting at 2012. It’s been one shitstorm after another this year: the relationship ending, pay cuts at work, Spike getting sick and then later having to be put to sleep, and not to mention my debt.  I’m hopeful 2012 will be better for me. I’d never say it can’t get worse but I sure hope not. lol

My only resolution this year is to focus on getting my life back together. I’m faced with some difficult choices in the next couple months. As mentioned, I have a few blog posts backed up from the WordPress snafu. Once those roll out, the blog might go dark for a few weeks until I get things sorted. It all depends on how things go.

The one bright spot in 2011 was the arrival of little Cooper. He brings me joy every day. Speaking of, he has also settled in quite well to his new home. One has only to observe the changes in his behavior to know he is happy and content. He is still having potty episodes but they are getting farther and farther apart. [2]Here’s hoping my carpet survives! lol Of course, he still farts like a demon that’s been gang-banged by a stink bomb. Seriously, I’m surprised the paint isn’t pealing yet. heehee Regardless, I love him.

On a side rant, it is amazing how much joy and contentment an animal can bring to one’s life. Growing up the way I did, I tend to be very independent. But I tell you this, having an animal with such unconditional love and faith in me is very rewarding. And, I honestly think if he were not around I would have slipped back into depression over the current state of things.

Anyway, here’s to our last year together. I hope everyone had a pleasant and safe holiday season. Best wishes to you all in 2012! And as I am sometimes fond of saying, ‘hope springs eternal!‘

References

References
↑1 According to the lunies, the world will end this year because the Mayan’s decided to stop counting at 2012.
↑2 Here’s hoping my carpet survives! lol