The Devil's Combo

I think almost everyone here knows what the above title alludes to.  We've all done it.  You walk into a store minding you're own business looking for a specific item or combination of items.  It could be anything really: A pair of scissors and tape, Gum and a lightbulb, a bowl for blood sacrifices and a tiny athamé, whatever.  You come to the check out with your little odds and ends and then BAM!  Your price comes out to $6.66.

I bet you didn't realize you were doing the devil's work by completing your purchase all at once.  But sadly, you realize almost your entire day must have been guided by his tiny pointed fingers.

This morning at my local McDonald's, I fell victim to the devil's nefarious scheme.  Admittedly, I pretty much knew that the sausage, egg and cheese biscuit with added bacon along with that McGriddle were evil to begin with.  But I didn't realize they were that evil.

That didn't stop me from buying it, naturally.  I figured at that point I needed to accept it and eat all of it as a penance.  I knew what I was doing was wrong, but if I didn't eat those two items, then some poor soul somewhere else might have eaten them.  I couldn't have that on my conscience.

And, while I savored every sinful bite of that most McGriddle and that biscuit, I know that someday I may have to answer for that purchase, maybe not at the pearly gates, but someday soon, in a bathroom somewhere.  And you can rest assured that I will repent that order, and will have long forgotten how sweet and savory that hell inspired meal was.

Ta Ta Ta Talking that Blah Blah Blah...

I have a post in the works about this past weekend about my trip to the Southern Version of Vegas. However, to help whet your appetite here is good little conversation snippet from the road trip back with the Professor.
~~~
Me: "So I was thinking that when I move in we'll put my PS3 in the bedroom.  This way we have a DVD player and a Blu-Ray player in there.  Then we can just take your DVD player and put it in the living room.  You are always saying you wish one was out there.  Sound good?"

Professor: "Yeah.  But I think maybe we should put my DVD player in the living room, since we'll have your game thing in the bedroom. What do you think?"

Me (dripping with sarcasm): "Yeah, I think that's an amazing idea!"

Professor: (oblivious to the sarcasm)

Me:  "...You didn't pay attention to anything I just said did you?"

Professor: "Why, what did you say?"
~~~
What is very weird about allllll that, is that right at the end of this little conversation I just sort of over flowed with all sorts of warm fuzzy feelings.  It was completely nauseating.

Shoot Them in the Brains... You Zombie Killers!

Last night I had a strange and vivd dream.

 I was in some sort of post-apocalyptic dystopia.  A place and time where huge cities, some quasi-futuristic with sweeping towers and holographic screens that still flickered into life, and some startlingly familiar looking places (especially the strip mall), were practically devoid of people, abandoned.

Almost every place I visited had that sad look and hollow sound that only sets in after years of disuse. There was a cold feel that only emerges after people move away.  The cities were still in that transition time where it had lost the vitality it once had but nature hadn't attempted to reclaim the land.  Cities and buildings were simply large mausoleums, structures and places that showed how high we had ascended and how quickly we had been dispersed.  Apparently, I and an ever changing group of people were the last people who had managed to survive the brunt of a zombie nightmare.

That's right.  I was in a real life(dream) zombie fest, and I have zero clue how I hadn't managed to be eaten/infected.  After all, my cardio is clearly not up to snuff, and I have never really handled a weapon.  Yet there I was one of the remaining members of humanity.  Even during the dream I don't remember really killing any zombies.  Though I do remember picking up a golf bag and selecting a couple long weapons: a baseball bat, a couple golf clubs, and some sort of pole.

The parts that I still remember were the exploring the cities for anything that could help us stay alive, I remember, also directing people into their positions when we were pinned down on an upper story of a building and trying to get down the stairwell. That was pretty intense.  There was also that time at the strip mall where a group of us had managed to scramble on top of the roof of a restroom, while we waited for the rest of the group to arrive and help.

The sad part of every dream, no matter how clearly you saw it, is that it always starts to fade as soon as you wake.  Even now while I write this I had to really make an effort to piece together the events of the dream.  And it was actually a fun dream.  I felt really accomplished in that world.  Though I guess when the bar is set to the point where waking up to a new day is the threshold for success, the dream was just trying to help me continue a lazy streak.

But I guess the point of this post is something important that I wanted to share with you all:  if you eat a huge meal consisting of chili cheese hot dogs right before going to bed, you are likely going to dream about flesh eating abominations.

Aaah... L'amour!

Now, for the final update segment.  Something I'm sure a number of you have been waiting for.  So get off those tenterhooks (look it up it's a from real phrase).  I will now sate some of your curiosity.

For almost 8 months I've been officially dating the Professor.  That's like almost 3 years in gay time, so this is kind of big news.  Since we've been seeing each other it has been pretty much fantastic.  We talk almost every day, and have even set up Wed or Thur as a semi official date night.

He makes me think all those cutesy love-struck things that, if taken out of the context of a relationship would see really creepy.  I think this card really gets this across the best:

"If i had a big enough needle, i'd stitch our skin together while you were asleep so that when you woke up, we were like one person. one big happy deformed person. "

I plan on sending that to him at 1 year with the tip of my pinky in a velour box.  You know a little something that says: I thought of you and wanted to show you how much, and if you ever leave me... well you would never do that, would you?

Romantic, no?  But humor aside, he's a pretty amazing person.  He is actually really fit (which if you knew me you'd realize how weird it is for me to be dating someone that knows how to pronounce, much less do, more than 3 different exercises), but he doesn't push me in an obnoxious way to change my lazy ways.    Very book smart, but sometimes a little naive.  And incredibly thoughtful about my friends. We also get along very well.  We have some great conversation about serious topics, like how to handle Immigration policies, and those that may not be so serious, like how ducks never chew their food they just sort of choke it down.

So that is the run-down with my love interest.  If I refer to him in my posts now you know who he is, and why some descriptions may look like the written equivalent to Vaseline on a camera lens.  All fuzzy, and soft.

He drank Pepto, and saw that it was good...

Picking up where our adventurer had just left off...

I had just waved to my parents while they drove back to their own home, after a wonderful brunch with them.

I spent the rest of that day/evening in recovery mode.  Family visits, even when they go smooth as butter like this one, are just a liiiiiitle bit stressful.  I was exhausted.  Don't get me wrong apart from the Museum and the Awful Sushi, it really was a lot of fun.  Actually it was shockingly fun to hang out with my parents, I just hope that never gets around to my 13-year-old self.  But even though it was fun it was still just a little bit stressful.  And Monday morning I found out that the stress must have been keeping my stomach cramps at bay or was the reason that the "situation" had lasted so long (about 5 days).

I woke up feeling like how I assume that one guy must have felt just when the alien popped out of his stomach.  Between the pain and the resulting ... follow-up, I had to call in to work because I don't think I could've made it through the two minute drive to work without a toilet in my car.

The cramps were so painful I even called the nurseline to see if I might need to go to the ER.  Apparently the message was, if they don't get better in a week, then go see someone, otherwise tough it out with some water and white bread. But I trusted them, and spent the day eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and drinking three liters of Smart Water.  And when I went to bed that night, I was exhausted.  It was as if I had run a marathon... with my butt.

The next day was a little iffy, but if I might compare the two:  I would say Monday was like someone had fed me sharp rocks in an effort to polish them, and Tuesday was like little butterflies were flapping their wings in my stomach.  One was basically me-laying-on-my-couch-and-just-praying-for-the-sweet-release-of-death pain, and the other was I'm-so-over-the-whole-stomach-thing-and-ready-to-go-to-work-already irritation.

The moral of that story?  If you are sick, take the time off and just rest already.  Pushing through the illness just makes it last 5 times longer.

Final Catch Up Segment:  The Professor 101

And Mommy and Daddy make Three (sometimes four)!

So where did I leave off.  Oh yes...the cramps.

Initially they weren't too painful, just really, really inconvenient.  Meaning I had to strategically plan my day around available restrooms, and pop immodium like mints.  After all, my parents were visiting, which meant they would meet the Professor (later! I really super special awesome promise to get into that later).  And so help me, I was not passing up the opportunity to have my boyfriend meet my parents in an official capacity.  I could have been passing a kidney stone, hunted by the CIA, and sent to an alternate dimension where the only way to return home would have meant chopping off my pinky toes, and I would've still managed to get my parents and him to meet.

And it went great!  The Professor was of course as sweet as peaches as always, I was able to finally pay for my parent's dinner (this way my parents and I are soooooort of even for the 18 years they fed and sheltered me), later we had coffee and desert at Dulce Vita, and really I couldn't have asked for much more from the evening.  My parents both said they really liked the Professor, and barring the fact that I know they lied to me when I was younger (Santa and the Easter Bunny, anyone?) I'm pretty certain they were being honest.  If you knew my mother, you would understand that she has no qualms about saying how she feels about someone, something I've always admired of her.

Then the next afternoon (minus the Professor) my parents and I went to Museum, which was kinda meh, and an alright sushi place.  Honestly, because my stomach was acting up I think I may have judged the restaurant too harshly but seriously, I shouldn't have to nearly choke on the rice while trying to swallow my fish.   That place's real saving grace was that my parents seemed to enjoy the seaweed salad.  I always love to see my parent's try different food, and admittedly, they have become more adventurous as I've gotten older, but that they liked the seaweed thing was a very pleasant surprise.

And then the highlight of the evening: we made the trip down to a comedy/musical revue/magic show called Esther's Follies.  Now, I had read some good reviews of this place, saying it was a fun time, and definitely something you should do if you are visiting Austin.  But they really are just so not anything close to explaining the real thing.

This group is HI-larious.  How funny was it?  Well, my mother laughed till she teared up, my Dad laughed till he was out of breath, and I know I was sliding down my chair and stomping my foot it was just SO FUNNY.  If you ever get the chance you have got to see this show.  The comedy was current and universal, some of the music numbers were just great.  But the real gem- and any review will echo this- is the magic.  You are so close to the stage that you just have no clue how they could be pulling this off, but they do it, seamlessly.  And the magician himself is (just like the reviews said) very, very funny.  The combination of the wise cracking magician, the up close magic, and the fact that I'm pretty sure I peed my pants a little laughing so hard, really made this one of the best nights I have had with my parents that I can remember.

The morning that Mom and Dad were set to leave, the Professor and I went to have a morning brunch with them, and to see them off.  I was surprised my Dad wasn't nursing a hangover, because he downed a number of scotches the night before.  So, since he wasn't leaning over the table moaning in agony the brunch was pretty uneventful.  No tears, just a really nice send off.


Next Segment:  The end of the Cramps (Finally!)...

1...2...3...26?

May has been a pretty good month!  I have a couple of events to cover so pull up a comfy seat (or maybe an iPad if you got one) and get ready to read some poorly constructed sentences, portraying a rather fuzzy timeline of events.  I plan on posting this over two (maybe three) entries.  Why?  Because it is my freaking blog, but also if I chose to not segment it up like this, the post would be one huge run on sentence withnospacesthatwouldmakeyourwantokillyourselfandeveryoneelsearoundyou. That's why.  In short my birthday came around, my parents came and visited, and I'm so freaking head over heels I kind of find myself cringing at the lovey dovey things that spring to my mind.  Let us begin, shall we?

My 26th birthday weekend wasn't too special.  Oh wait yes it was!  It fell right near the weekend of First Splash, which was incidentally the first one I have attended.  What is First Splash you might ask?  Well you know how gays like to throw parties, amirite? Well, Splash is one of two lake parties where the local gays get together so they can have lots of drinks and swim in a filthy lake.  You know, an event where we pretend that we love nature when deep down inside we just wish we lived in an air-conditioned bio-dome, that had all alcohol flowing like water and where the liposuction cost only a nickel.

There are actually two "Splashes" one is prior to the beginning of summer (First Splash), and one is at the end of summer (Last Splash).  Since Texas is just a hop, skip and a jump away from the surface of the sun, we need to have it in May (mid-late Spring) rather than Pride Month June (Summer proper).  Little known fact:  Texas during the summertime is where the Devil comes to acclimate himself going too or coming from Hell.  It's true just ask the Pope.  And I don't mean your local priest.  I mean the Pope.  I like to make it hard for anyone who wants to fact check me.

So, swimming in a big lake, while sipping on strong drinks, sounds pretty fun right?  For the most part it is.  But then you get the naked people.  Yup, we have a frightful "fun" little cove where nudity is permitted.

Now calm your jets, it is not all hot guys feeling up on other hot guys.  I wouldn't write about that.  After all I'm fairly certain that if Grandma tried she would find her way to this blog, so I wouldn't type anything about penises if they were actually doing anything graphic.  See how I did that?  I got you to think about your grandmother and then about peeno's immediately after.  You will forever have that connection in your mind.  Next time you see good ol' grammy you're gonna be like, "Oh no I just thought about peepees while I was hugging her!  Is that allowed?  Am I a terrible person?"

And let me just take a quick moment to reassure you.  Yes. That combination is indeed the reason you will be spending eternity in a very warm place in the afterlife.  Or at the very least you will get terrible accommodations in heaven, where the servants won't even have the decency to cower when you look at them, and their bar is always closed, even though you know you just saw someone walk by recently with a little umbrella in their glass!

Now wait, where was I?  Oh yes.  Tally wackers, (ugh try and spell check that word).

As risqué as a nude lake shore might sound, it is far less tempting to the eyes, and exceedingly unappealing when you experience it in real life. Instead of chiseled men and shapely women galavanting around splashing eachother, it is almost always the type of people you would never expect to see, and usually never hope to see, flaunting their "goods" attempting to make inappropriately long eye contact with some poor soul.  Lots of birthday suits that likely hadn't been aired out for a long, long time.  Perhaps it someone should have suggested to them to take an iron to a couple spots and run a lint roller along their clothing of choice as well.

But for the most part the nekkid people keep their distance.  I actually only saw two nude forms this time to the lake.  So to me, that is a total win, since the gays were obviously showing some small amount of modesty.  Don't get me wrong there were plenty of skimpy outfits on the men, women, men that became women and maybe even some women that became men, but the point is, at least they were wearing something.  And sometimes you have to count your blessings, no matter how small the thread count those blessings may have.

Did I mention how gross that lake is, though?  It was not cute.  I remember hearing all these stories of how people would get sick from accidentally swallowing the water while swimming.  I had told myself I would definitely not get in the water.  Yet somehow, I had just enough to drink to say, "Screw it!" and jump in.  Nothing got injured and it was fun to get in the lake, but I think I must have swallowed just a tiiiiiny bit of the lake.  This small amount of swimming would (a couple days later) prove to be a very poor choice on my part.

The day after the barge party (we had an got a group together to chip in for a party barge which was just so much fun) I had my birthday celebration.  I spent the day driving around with the Professor (more on that later), and just enjoying his wonderful company, and then later that evening my friends all went out to dinner with me.  Super fun times.

About two days later, I started to get the cramps.  Now I don't mean something simple like "ooh that smarts."  They were the kind of cramps that mean: "Oh hey!  It's me, your intestines.  Just doing some remodeling in here.  So that means I gotta get all of this stuff cleared out."  A sort of secret handshake from your stomach to you that says: you don't need a restroom right this second, but you better have some options very soon.

Part Two:  The Parent's Visit!

The Wheels on the car go up and down...

The other day, I took my car to get it's annual inspection as required by state law (I also got an oil change but that sounds a lot less grand, ya know?).  Apparently the inspection was fine and dandy.  My car Parry (short for paranoid since it likes to keep the re-lock the doors regardless of how many times I click my unlock button) didn't put out any more emissions than it should.  And the oil change apparently was butter too.  Total with tax for these things?  $69.

However, while they were doing the inspection and oil change guess what else they found?  $500 worth of repairs that should be done.

Well technically it is only like $330 or some such number.  But the labor is somewhere near the $168 department.

Fan- freaking- tastic.  Because, you know, that is what I totally wanted to hear.  Apparently the belts on my car for AC and some other such things, have tiny cracks in them, and they are a ticking time bomb just waiting to explode.  The guy's words?

"They could last for two months, or last for two days.  I just can't really give you a timeline of how long they will keep up."

Really?  In all your experience you can't even provide a better estimate than somewhere between two days and two months?  I understand from a liability standpoint that since the car is a complicated piece of machinery and that you aren't a human calculator and can't run all the variables to give me a date specific countdown.  But maybe some sort of guidance to know if I should be changing to Top Ramen for the next couple of weeks if that will get me the money or if I can just set a little more aside on my credit cards the next couple months till I have enough to cover it.

Something just a little more helpful than: "You might die today, you might die 60 years from now, I don't know I'm not a psychic, sir.  But please stop writhing on the floor, you are scaring the other customers."

$500.  Just great.

Welcome to the Herd

It is a New Year.  And that means looking back at all my unfinished business, and being irritated that I didn't really accomplish any of my goals.

• Lose weight?  Totally gained weight.  Tipping the scales at a "healthy" 224 lbs.  
• Learn a new language?  Wow look at that expensive piece of software on my computer, cuz that is all I did with it after a month.
• Pay down my credit card debt? Ummm what do you think financed that little language software purchase?

Yes I've really managed to be a shining example of how to achieve your goals and make it look like you are not even trying. Well, at least I mastered half of that statement.

Now I'm not going to beat myself up about this too much.  Lots of people make resolutions and lots of people break them.  I just thought I was better than those people.  

Which brings me to the title of this little post.  I'm going to follow the masses in saying that this year 2010 will be the year I will get fit, lose a little weight, with one condition...

In an effort to save some face I proposed a little Biggest Loser-like competition.  Involved right now are the DIVA and the SOAP FAN.  I figure this is easier to me for getting into shape for a couple reasons.

1. The contest is just for 3 months ( I can totally do three months), so that maybe aftwerwards I'll even stick with it.  
2. The last time I did one of these my competitive nature took over and I won (while also losing 30 lbs).  

I figure the real draw though for me was that the prize was MONEY.  I'm not poor but extra spending money totally is helpful.  And really as an American consumer that money will totally make it's way back into the nation's economy.  So really, if you think about it, losing weight and winning this contest is my patriotic duty.