A look inside

I’m better. And here’s hoping I don’t have another PMS post for a long, long…long time. ‘Nuff said about that.

Portland was hit with a small snow/ice storm over the weekend. It’s been colder than this witch’s tit for almost three weeks. Clear, bitterly cold and very windy. Though I don’t care for the amount of rain the Pacific NW gets, I was actually hoping it would come so there would be cloud cover to keep in a little heat.

On Sunday, Hot Toddy, K9 and I were having lunch in the hippie district before helping Hot clear out the loft. K9 noticed half way through lunch that it had begun snowing. I watched with a certain excitement while enjoying the change (even though it didn’t represent warmth). Being a Dago girl, snow isn’t commonplace for me.

I watched it snow and realized how much I missed Auburn Aries. She had only been at her Dad’s two days and there I sat with a lump in my throat that the first time it snowed this year, we weren’t together. I grabbed my cell phone and called her to tell her the snow was on its way. Hearing her little voice caused me to tear up, I miss her so much.

We managed to get quite a bit of stuff out of the loft. I was glad we were getting it out simply because, for me, it meant that my best friend was actually living with me. He AND his belongings.

I could feel Hot’s energy all day long. As we were waiting for our lunch, I glanced up at one point and asked Hot where he had gone [mentally] and what was wrong. He laughed and shook his head saying how funny it was that I knew the second he felt something. I sat through lunch that day with two men each who carry their own burdens, pain, and uncertainty and I felt every second of it.

I was grateful that I didn’t have much of my own stuff going on so their broken spirits had somewhere to land to find a moments peace. I don’t think people realize what goes on for an intuitive person like myself. Nor do I care to explain it here. But I realized that even though sometimes I may not realize it (or times I need to hear it), I do know my place in this world.

My contribution may not be great or significant in any global sense. But I know I’m important to my family.

We ended up getting iced in Sunday evening. I made fajitas and margaritas and me, Hot Toddy, K9, and Willie hung out. It was very relaxing for me. I didn’t allow myself to get hung up on household chores or any of the other stuff that always needs to be done.

We sat/stood around in the kitchen listening to music and laughing. As I prepared dinner, I watched my friend whose spirit is being knocked around like a small sailboat centered in a storm on a big, angry sea. Toddy posted today about the last year and his moves. As I watched and felt him Sunday afternoon and evening, it occurred to me just how strong Todd truly is.

Sunday night it was as though I was watching a best and worst of compilation for both Hot and K9. I flashed through the year Todd’s had. The moving, the love, the heartache, the lessons, the lost and discovered boundaries, realizing the depths of love he is capable of giving, coping with being deceived, learning who is true friends are…the list goes on and on.

People say that I’m the strong one. I’m often asked how I do it. How I hold it together. How is it I’m able to be strong for so many. Yet I stood before my friend and could feel his inability to breath right now. I could feel the coldness of the depths to which he has fallen and could feel his legs feverishly kicking beneath him, unwilling to succumb to the darkness.

It is you, Sweet Toddy, who is the strong one. You’re surviving it. Each and every day you open your eyes and experience one more day this existence has to offer you, you’re surviving it. Once you get to a place you’re not just surviving it but once again thriving in all this lifetime has to offer you is when you’ll know the balance in your life is back. Hang on, Toddy. You’re almost there.

Hot, please never think of yourself as weak. You have had a tough year, my darling friend. Everything will be okay.

I reflected on the images I got from K9 that night as well. Similar struggles, trust issues, unhappiness, no sense of belonging. He’s only spoken of his life and experiences but the images are as clear to me as though I were there. He doesn’t read my blog. Probably best he doesn’t following my crazy rant the other day. Besides the words I would share with him would likely fall on deaf ears as he, too, has been deceived, let down.

I realized that night that I play a role in the lives of the people I love. Even on days I doubt I make a difference, I do – just by being there.

I’ve reflected on the last year with all of my chosen family. I needn’t list them here, you already know who they are. I’ve witnessed change in each of their lives. I’ve felt the pain when they’ve felt it; I’ve felt the love when it flowed freely; I’ve watched each of them grow as human beings much the same way I have.

I am blessed – even by the occasional stray puppy – that I have crossed their path for a reason. I cannot begin to tell you how my family has changed who I am as a person or how much they have reminded me what unconditional love is.

I had a chat with Ren the Rockstar earlier today. She is another loving friend who picks up my pieces when they fall. We attended a Christmas soiree over the weekend. I attended wearing this black, floor length strapless number and my stilettos. When Ren saw me, she did a double take. I was flattered.

She said this morning that what she saw when she looked over at me was ultimate confidence. How it is that that makes me as beautiful as I am. She spoke of how she has never known anyone who was more sure of their place in the world.

Sometimes I spend time wondering what the hell I’m doing – why am I working this job; am I living my life the way I’m supposed to be; am I missing my true calling… And then I think about this weekend, my chosen family, and the words Ren spoke and I realize I’m living my life exactly how I am supposed to be which is surrounded with these amazing people.

We all need each other and if it’s one thing in which I am absolutely confident, it’s in the love of my friends, my family. It’s the depth of people like Pua, Young Stud, and Ren and everyone I consider my family that make me realize that I am right where I’m supposed to be.

PMS Two days later...

Though I have not had the privilege of bleeding and getting it over with (as my Spiritual Equal, Young Stud, said this morning – it shall happen tomorrow up on the full moon) I am feeling some type of relief.

Communication goes a long way, does it not?

Hot Toddy and I had a good talk. I told him how I miss my friend and our talks. The Aub and Hot time needs to come back. He gave me a little Thank You card the speaks of how much he treasures me. Sometimes I guess just hearing it and not having to know the unspoken truth exists inside, helps.

I had a heart-to-heart with K9. I told him exactly where I was at with everything. He said that all I’ve done is be a great friend to him and he’s been so wrapped up on his own stuff that he ended up in an bad place.

After my writing the other day, I sat in C.C.s with Hot Toddy, Ms Karma and The Math Whiz and watched K9 work. He is a good guy. I watched him and could feel his pain inside. Damn Piscean luck – more energy to carry around. I felt horrible about venting. Though it did help and it’s my blog and I chose to use it to find clarity.

Helping someone isn’t always convenient. If helping people were easy, more people would do it.

Auburn Aries is still the light of my existence. She leaves tonight to go to her Dad’s for a week. I don’t see her until Christmas Eve. In as much as I need a little time to myself, I will be lost without her by my side. But while she is away, I will go to the Santa extreme and give her another year of magic.

I’ll have some Aries Christmas anecdotes next week. By then, all should be well.

Put your seatbelt on

Aub’s pissed.

Forgive the rant on which I am about to embark. It needs to be duly noted that I am PMS’ing. In as much as I’ve managed to get through my entire life with few symptoms of this monster, I am finding that as I get older (i.e. over 40) it rears its ugly head in the form of intolerance or tears.

The tears part is no big deal but today the intolerance must find an outlet and my blog shall bear the load.

Buckled Up?

What the fuck is wrong with people? I’m serious. This question covers a broad spectrum of people. Let’s start small.

Why is it that Auburn Aries tells me it’s 7:10 this morning (I like to leave my house by 7:20) and then proceeds to walk around the house in bare feet for the next 15 minutes even after I’ve told her to get her shoes on? What the hell is it in her clusterfuck of a bedroom could be so gd important that she’s willing to risk my temper flaring first thing in the morning?

Is there a bag of cash that fell off an Armored truck that she’s been hiding in there somewhere? Is Angelina Jolie laying in there with her legs open waiting for me? Is there a letter telling me her dipshit father is moving to the bum fuck Egypt where he belongs?

I don’t think so.

At 7:25 I stood in my kitchen counting to ten, silently.

How is it also that I bought her the book Narnia and she can’t find it. It’s a frickin’ week old and it’s missing. Can you say where’s the $130 Columbia coat I bought her last winter that she lost one week into owning it. Okay, in her defense it was tied around her waist and fell off while at school and no one bothered to return it. Nice. I’m sure the new book is with the coat.

She’s wanting the Narnia book set but I won’t buy it until she finds the new one I bought her. GD kid thinks money grows on freakin trees.. Want want want want want. I swear – she’s got more shit than she even realizes she has. She appeared with a beautiful bracelet on her wrist last week and when I asked her where she got it she said she found it in her stuff. Yeah, I’ll bet she did.

Moving on.

How is it possible that people can come to me and vent or ask my advice or need a shoulder to cry on and tune my ass out after I’ve taken the time to try and help them, only to find out that when someone else gives the same gd advice suddenly it all makes sense and person b, c or d is a gd Saint for helping him see the way?

Christalmighty, why the fuck do I even bother?

I have stood steadfast by the side of someone very, very dear to me. I’ve listened to every worry, concern, hurt feelings, lost love, broken heart, every tear, every bottle the was dove into… I’ve looked out for this person in his highs and lows only to find I’ve ended up the person in the background whose words don’t seem to matter anymore.

I did the ground work… the grunt work if you will and now there are three other people whose friendship have become the hallmark of true friendship. Grrrrrr. I know these three people and I love them all. They are not bad people in any way, shape or form. But every time I think about the fact that I was there through it all and now there’s no time for me, makes me cry.

And then.

Hot Toddy and I met a guy less than a couple of months ago that had just moved to Portland from Denver. I shall call him K9. K9 is a man who has traveled the country. Over the course of four or five years he lived in 32 states. He has wonderful stories to tell and doesn’t look back on his choice to travel and see the world with any regret.

He is athletic – he rides café racers, he snowboards, he is fearless when it comes to taking a risk. He is a true adrenalin junkie. Immediately after he moved to Portland he found work as a male stripper. Yes, this guy’s body is that hot. He has a natural physique that most men have to go to the gym three hours a day to get. Biceps like huge rocks. Built in six pack abs. A v-shaped torso that is simply a thing of beauty on which to cast your eyes.

Tired of stripping he took a low-key job at, where else, C.C. Slaughters. This is how Toddy and I met him. He spoke of his struggle to settle-in in a town where he knows no one; where he is unfamiliar with the geography of a city; of how he’s been robbed four separate times after moving here.

His car was broken into a couple of different times. His expensive snowboard stolen, his snowboard gear stolen, his satellite laptop stolen from underneath a bed where he slept and thought he was safe. His photo albums of all of his adventures, gone. His motorcycle leathers, gone. Money stolen. How this guy has managed to stay and overcome something that would have robbed me of any faith I had in mankind, is beyond me.

After conversing with K9 for a couple of hours, he shared how his goal is to stick it out and not run from adversity. He wanted to save enough money to get himself an apartment – someplace that he could call home and that he was proud of, rather than renting a room in someone else’s house and paying $125 a week for a daybed and a bathroom.

Toddy and I talked about it and decided to offer our home to K9. This poor guy can’t get a break and we wanted to help.

So a over a week ago, I talked to K9 and extended the offer. Toddy was willing to give up one of his bedrooms downstairs and I would not charge him rent so that he could save up for his own place. He wanted to be in something by the end of this year.

Sounds great right? Well then why the hell isn’t this guy looking at apartments? Is my gd house just too gd comfortable? The agreement was through December which means, uh, tic tock, tick tock motherfucker. Don’t tell me you’re saving for an apartment and deposits and then talk about buying a new snowboard.. Unless you plan on using it for a pillow when you’re out of a place to stay. I'm your friend not your gd fairy godmother.

Now please understand, I do not regret the decision to help K9 out. He’s a sweet guy. But all my routines are out of whack. There’s no bed downstairs yet and he’s staying upstairs. I know I seem like a total bitch complaining about this but let me remind you…PMS!!!! I know in a day or two none of this will matter, but for now…

K9 tends to be negative.. rightly so I’d imagine. But I’m silver lining girl. I see the glass half full. He called me yesterday at 3 p.m. to tell me how Oregon sucks ‘cause there’s nothing to do. How he sat in my house all day and was bored beyond belief.

I’m from San Diego. It is still my home in my heart of hearts. Though I’ve lived in Oregon 16 years, it will never truly be home to me. However, I have lived here long enough to know there is an asston of shit to do up here. Oregon is beautiful.

I told K9 to drive up to Multnomah Falls (after I said the name 19 fucking times because Multnomah sounds like PAH-TOE-MA on a cell phone) and hike the falls. Or go to Mt. Hood and rent a snowboard and burn off some energy (can’t do that “because rental equipment sucks”) or hike the Butte behind my house and get some fresh air. Or ride his $2k mountain bike on the Butte. Do something. But whatever you do, don’t bitch because you chose to sit in the house all gd day. I found it odd that he did just that.

He reminds me of Bohdi (Patrick Swayze) in Point Break who, throughout the entire movie, experiences rush after rush from so many wild adventures. At the end of the movie, Johnny Utah (Keanu Reeves) finds Bodhi in Australia surfing and tells Bodhi he’s come to arrest him for all the robberies blah blah blah… to which Bodhi replies, “I can’t live in a cage. I’ll die there.”

K9 is Bodhi. If he’s not running full-speed with his hair on fire then he’s not going fast enough. I’m 42 years old (K9 is 31). My perspective is different. Don’t ask my advice and then not bother to consider it…oh, wait, I’ve already addressed a subject similar to this one.

K9 has found himself frustrated by his job as well. He’s a straight man working in a gay bar where he doesn’t feel accepted because he’s different. He feels discriminated against by the very people who preach non-stop about being treated the exact same way.

What the hell is it with me trying to help the stray puppies? Toddy and I were laughing about this other day. He and I are just alike that way. I know I just have to put my patience cap on but until my PMS subsides, I need to stay busy so I don’t get like this.

And then there’s the trek I made to Pioneer Place to take Aries to see Santa and pick up her Nintendo DS bundle. EB Games was out of DS. A quick search in the computer showed there are only two left in this area. The next closest is 2,000 miles away. So today on my lunch hour I’m driving north of Vancouver, WA to pick up the gd game.

And Santa… that fat bastard. His sorry ass was gone when he finally got down to see him at 7 p.m. Aries was crushed. We go to Pioneer Place every year to see Santa. She put on her cutest shirt and put clips in her hair and stood there with a sad little face like she didn’t know what she was going to do if she couldn’t talk to Santa. I promised her we would make it back to see him later this week. Now I have to carve more time out of an already busy week. A mother’s work is never done.

She’s been overwhelmed with kids at school telling her Santa isn’t real. She spoke of how Santa is real because parents couldn’t write out all those tags or wrap all those presents. How Santa is real because he leaves her a letter propped on the tree each year. How she’s seen the left over cookies the next morning and how he left chocolate chip smears on the napkin she left out and how he dunks his cookies because she saw the crumbs in the glass of milk and how he tracked leaves into the house.

She talked about how all the Santas in the malls aren’t the real Santa because the real Santa doesn’t have time to go sit in every mall. I told her she was right they weren’t the real Santa but they were members of a Santa club and that Santa actually hires each and every one. She was amazed and thrilled when she realized that the mall Santas have actually met the real one. She said that even though she’s never seen the real Santa she knows he’s real because she’s heard the sleigh bells and only Santa has the real sleigh bells.

All those little bastards in school need to shut the hell up. This may be the only year left of Aries believing in the magic of Santa.

I know I have Aries and I have Toddy and the rest of my chosen family all right here. But I can’t help but miss my bio family. I can’t help but acknowledge the emptiness that exists silently inside of me. Everything feels big right now. Not enough time, not enough money, no one to ask me how I’m doing and truly wait to hear the answer.

Again, I know my current state of mind is temporary and it’s entirely possible I’ll have to write another post admitting I jumped the gun. But for now, I’ll get through my day without losing my cool, thanks to this – my blog and your willingness to laugh at my plight. Hopefully tomorrow I’ll be laughing with you.

Power

No one can take the power in your life
Unless you give it to them.

Why I love my blog

Being turned on:
Not *that*. But the fact that Toddy and Miz Karma and I were talking and laughing one day about how I should have a blog and Toddy totally turned me on to the whole concept and hooked me up.

Writing it:
I love sitting down and putting my fingers on the keys and sharing a story. I wish I had more time to do it.

Sharing pieces of my life:
I love that there are moments in my life that move me to the point of being excited about sharing them. Regardless of whether or not they are philosophical, sad, exciting, spiritual.

Comments:
Though I don’t always have time to get to as many blogs as I’d like to leave comments, I love that there people who read me and are moved to say something to me about what I have written.

Site Meter:
I love being able to peruse Site Meter and look at the cities and countries from which people read me.

Searches:
I laugh at some of the ways people find me via a search engine:

“Pisces trouble area”
“Santa been in dirty under a tree”
“Barbies having sex”
“Nipple weights blogspot”
“My boobs”
“Tall boots”

Friendship:
I love that I have acquired friends via this forum that I feel connected to and never would have met otherwise. I look forward to being able to peek into their worlds a little each day as well.

Blog names:
I love that whenever Toddy and I are in a social gathering he’ll say, “This is my friend, Marilyn” and get confused looks in return. Then says, “She’s Auburn Pisces” and people immediately know who I am. That and the fact that Pony and Hot Toddy call me Aub. I love that I can yell “hey Hot” downstairs and he answers me. It’s created another layer of closeness or intimacy that I appreciate.

Aries:
I love that I get to share some phenomenal stories about the sharpest little girl I know which makes me the proudest person alive.

Dog Gone It

One of the contributing factors to my tense Thanksgiving weekend had to do with a certain dog that Aries and I thought we wanted to adopt. My ex, Daddy D, donates time to a no-kill dog rescue in Washington. She called and told me about a dog they had obtained that was low-key and had a great temperament. Aries has been wanting a dog so I agreed to test drive the dog over the long weekend.

She was a Chinook/Pit mix. Absolutely beautiful. She was a very quiet dog; she was playful; she seemed very loyal. She didn’t eat the first three days she was at the house which worried me. Guess she needed some settling in time.

She kept looking back at her bottom so I took her to a vet on the Friday following Tgiving. This is where the chaos truly began.

With Aries in tow, we sat in the room waiting for the vet – almost 25 minutes. When the vet came in he pet the dog and said she probably had a plugged anal gland. Gross. Ew. Then as quickly as he told me of the problem, he started his aggressive diatribe about how I needed to get rid of the dog immediately.

I was confused. Two seconds prior he was petting the dog and rubbing her ears and now he was going off about how I needed to get rid of the dog because she was part Pit. He continued his criticism of the dog and spoke of a Pit Bull’s nature. They’re aggressive and born attackers (his words). His tone became mean. The dog that originally greeted him with a wagging tail was now hunched down and growling at him.

He pointed out that we had only had her three days and that it wasn’t too late to get rid of the dog before we have any more time invested. He pointed to the now growling dog and viewed it as confirmation of his point that she needed to be gone, destroyed…didn’t matter which. He said she had anxiety (well no shit, she'd been in a dog rescue kennel for a couple of months with no sense of belonging).

I looked over at Aries and her lower lip began to quiver. The area around her beautiful, tender green eyes was red as she fought back tears. She was in love with this 67 pound dog and did not want to give it up. She held the retractable leash tightly in her hand staring at the dog, her heart breaking.

I can deal with a lot of shit from people. I don’t have a problem at all being confronted. I can take being poorly spoken to with blatant disregard. I won't tolerate it, but I won't crumble if it happens. I will always stand my ground and stand up for myself regardless of how badly I may be shaking inside. It takes me but a moment to evaluate whether the person speaking to me is worthy of a response. It’s taken me a long time to learn to just walk away when it’s not worth it.

But when someone hurts my daughter in any way, the time lapse between patience and being fucking done is approximately 2.3 seconds. I come out swinging like a Momma Lion with her claws out.

The vet carried on with no hesitation. I quickly stood and stepped into his personal space. I addressed him as though he were still worthy of my respect which he was not.

“Sir, if you want to have this conversation then let’s have it one-on-one. Privately. Why don’t you take the dog in the back and treat her and let me calm my daughter down.”

“No,” he insisted. “She needs to hear this. This dog could kill her.”

I could feel the rage and heat screaming to the surface. Street-Auburn Pisces was ready to kick this fucker’s door in.

“NO,” I asserted, “SHE DOES NOT NEED TO HEAR THIS. JUST TAKE THE DOG IN THE BACK AND LET’S WRAP THIS UP.”

“You don’t understand,” he yelled, “This dog will maul her and there won’t be anything you can do about it. She needs to hear the truth. One day one of her little girlfriends is going to come over and reach down to pet the dog and this dog is going to attack her out of fear. Do you want that on your conscious?”

“Sir, isn’t it possible that the Chinook breed in her and the complacency that breed displays overrides the nature of the Pit that you seem so freaked out about? This dog has given me no cause for concern. We’ve spent three solid days with the her.”

“I don’t care what “brand” she is. The Pit Bull in her will kill your daughter.”

“SIR, YOU ARE OUT OF LINE. YOU’RE SCARING MY DAUGHTER – LOOK AT HER – YOU HAD NO RIGHT TO SAY THOSE THINGS IN FRONT OF HER AND I’M NOT GOING TO STAND HERE AND LET THIS HAPPEN FOR ONE MORE SECOND. I’M DONE.”

I grabbed the leash from Aries, ripped the door open and said “We’re leaving” as I nodded Aries out the doorway. There, sitting in the lobby, were other unsuspecting victims. I got 10 feet from the asshole veterinarian and heard him bellow “YOU OWE ME FOR AN OFFICE VISIT!!” He was waiving my new file in his hand.

Blown away by his idiocy and ignorance, I turned on my heel and walked right toward him. I never slowed down. I was beyond pissed off. I leaned toward him and pointed in his face.

“You had NO fucking right to have that conversation in front of my daughter. You had NO right to scare her. I was willing to talk to you about your concerns privately but you wouldn’t stop.”

“She deserves to know the truth!”

“SHE WILL KNOW THE TRUTH AS IT’S INTERPRETED BY ME. IT’S MY JOB TO PROTECT HER FROM PEOPLE LIKE YOU!!!”

I stormed out the door. Jaws in the waiting area had officially reached the floor. As he screamed about the cost of the office visit one last time, I told him to bill me and walked out – with a kid in tears and a dog that was so wound up I could hardly get her in the car.

I had to dig deep into the depths of my soul to find the patience to take care of Aries and the dog and put my anger aside. I got home and was talking to Hot Toddy about the whole deal. It’s like I told him, at least Aries has officially seen Street-Auburn Pisces and knows that her Mom isn’t scared to stand up for what’s right and that I will protect her at all cost.

The name of this place is Companion Pet Clinic, 3150 NE 82nd Avenue, Portland, Oregon. Don’t ever use them. Ever.

But wait, the story continues.

Later that night, Aries and I were watching movies. I had come down off my mad and had begun the hateful thought process of what I wish I could have done to that asshole. Until this point, the dog had either slept in Aries room next to her bed or next to mine on the floor.

Aries and I both fell asleep on the couches that night. I awoke at 1 a.m. and got Aries up and told her to just sleep with me and we headed toward my bedroom. The dog came walking out of the room as we entered. I didn’t think much of it.

Aries laid her little head down and says, “Why is it wet right there?”

I ran over and flipped on the light to find that son-of-a-bitch dog had pissed on my bed right in between the two pillows where your head would lay.

Not that big a deal you’re thinking? Guess again. I sleep on a king size Carrington Chase Coral Bay Plush bed. It retails for nearly $4,000.

The dog was cowering in my office which is through a set of sliding glass doors off my bedroom. I threw the door open, pointed at her and yelled, “YOU MOTHERFUCKER…YOU JUST BOUGHT YOURSELF A ONE WAY TICKET OUT OF HERE.”

Then I lost it. The weekend, the dog, the kid, the veterinarian, the cooking, the turkey that seemed to cook forever, no back up to catch me when I needed to fall. I started to cry. I didn’t know what to do. The bed is latex. The stain was bright yellow. It stunk. The mattress was supposed to have been treated but it didn't appear as such.

I put Aries in her bed and she tried her best to comfort me. She never sees me cry that hard and with my guard down like that. She just watched me wide-eyed trying to talk me down. Bless her heart.

Hot Toddy came in from a night at C.C.’s and in his drunken state of mind, grabbed wash cloths and Febreeze and tried to clean the spot. He appeared to have gotten the bulk of it out but needless to say, I would no longer sleep on my $4k bed. In fact, I spent the next five days on the phone with the mattress company working out a replacement.

I ended up paying for the replacement mattress. They sold a new mattress at a used mattress price of $1279. Bastards. I still have the old mattress and until I find that warranty card, it’s not going anywhere. There’s something about throwing out a $2k mattress that doesn’t sit well with me.

The dog slept in the garage from that night on. The next morning when I let her out to pee, she promptly jumped the fence like it wasn’t even there. Rebellious little shit. Twice I went after her to bring her back home. The second time I realized that I wasn’t willing to beg her to come home. I flipped her off and said, “bye bye, see you at later” and walked off.

She ended up coming back eventually. She jumped the fence repeatedly. I called the ex to come and get her, to no avail. I took her to the Southwest Washington Humane Society where Daddy D was supposed to pick her up and take her back to the dog rescue to be adopted out. Hopefully she’s found a great place to roam free with no expensive bed to pee on.

Press 1 for English

Why the hell do I have to press 1 for English? This is America. English is the language spoken here.

People who don’t speak English should have to press a button, not me.

This pisses me off.

And interactive voice commands with an automated attendant…this works if your Hot Toddy and you’re sitting in the park shouting at the automated attendant at the bank.

But if you’re me and you’re trying to make a personal call at work amidst the cube farm, I don’t want to have to announce my choices into the phone.

“NO”

“YES”

“PASSWORD”

“PASSWORD”

“CUSTOMER REPRESENTATIVE”

“AGGRO LESBIAN”

[“I’m sorry but your command was not recognized. Please select one of the following choices…”]

“C.U.S.T.O.M.E.R. R.E.P.R.E.S.E.N.T.A.T.I.V.E.”

Give me a gd option to bark like a dog into the phone or press the appropriate button. Geez. The times I want to press a button I can’t. Bastard companies over-streamline now.

If you’re Old Mother Hubbard, not having to push a button would be a good thing. Or if your just too exhausted to reach up there to press a button. As Kathleen Madigan would say, if that were the case you’d probably be willing pay somebody $20 to dial that number 2. If it were an 8 you’d dial it, but that 2 is all the way at the top which is just exhausting.

Silence

I need silence. I need the noise in my head to stop. I need the noise in my life to stop.

My life the last couple of weeks and especially the last six days has been a constant feed – a data stream that just won’t stop and in fact keeps picking up speed.

I haven’t had five minutes to myself in weeks. It feels like I haven’t had anyone turn to me and ask how *I’m* doing in a long time. To say no one has asked would be a lie. The Math Whiz and Pony have been my closest allies as of late. For them, I am especially grateful.

And Ren the Rockstar was my rock Sunday night when I called her broken down and in tears at 11 p.m. because I was at the end of my rope. I had nothing left to give – not even to myself. I had given and cooked and served and tended to and loved and listened to everyone who needed it over my five day weekend including a dog that lived temporarily at my house.

Once I had Ren on the phone, I could barely articulate why I was so exhausted. All I could do was cry and tell her I had nothing left – that I was empty.

Ordinarily I would have called Young Stud. He has been there for me emotionally in ways some of my friends will never understand. There is a level of trust there that is unbreakable. He has proven himself to me over and over again just by his integrity alone. He is a man whose arms I feel completely safe in. At 11 p.m on a Sunday after a long weekend, I wasn’t sure he’d answer and I needed someone to answer my call.

I wasn’t searching for someone to fix me. I needed someone to care…about me. Only me. For just a few minutes I needed to be the center of the world. I needed to cry and I wanted so badly to be held while I did it, I’d have driven to the ends of the earth to get it.

I am always strong for everyone else. Sometimes it feels like I take hit after hit in life and have no choice but to stand strong because I have to (especially now that I have Auburn Aries) when all the while I’m crying inside.

This was only my third Thanksgiving without my Mom. It’s the first one without my brother Jim. I missed my parents and my brothers who’ve passed on so much it hurt. I missed the crazy camaraderie that is my family. The laughter, the stories, the drunkenness, the arguing, the grazing. I haven’t heard, nor will I ever again, the sound of all my family’s voices in one room. God how I miss that. I feel so alone.

For five days I couldn’t keep up with dishes – they seemed to stay stacked up all weekend regardless of how many times I loaded the dishwasher. Plastic water bottles piled up faster than I could carry them out to the recycle bin. I would just put food away and it would be time to eat again. I would settle in to study only to have Aries interrupt me to ask what I was doing. I was jealous because Toddy had the freedom to go out and have a few drinks sans responsibilities and I didn’t. I couldn’t get the laundry done.

I walked past my altar time and time again, each time it spoke to me more loudly than the last. I needed to meditate. I need to burn some incense and center myself. I needed to sit still and feel the earth beneath me. I couldn’t. There was no way I was going to get enough quiet to find what I needed.

I’m wound so god damned tight it’s going to take me hours to disentangle. And quite frankly, I have too much shit to do at my house.

What I need is to get laid. I need to have hours of unadulterated sex with someone who can keep up. I need to be worn out. It always pulls my shoulders down away from my ears and helps me breath. I need the clarity that follows it.

Then I need to be left alone – to do a ritual, to meditate, to listen to music – classical music or something new age (lyric free) while I don’t talk to anyone. That’s right, I want to use someone for their body and their talent and then send them away. I’m being selfish.

Funny thing is, I say that however sitting on the couch with someone to hold me while we watch a movie would probably equal that of an intense session o’ sex. There’s got to be something in my future…sex, being held, or a good flogging. All opposite ends of the spectrum, I know…but I’m a complex woman. Just go with it.

At 21, he's more than legal

While dining at Red Robin with Auburn Aries and my friend Tall Girl:

AP: [I don’t know what prompted me saying this but…] Maybe the dingo ate your bay-bay.

AA: What?

AP: It was a Seinfeld episode where they were at a party on Long Island and Elaine was fed up with a woman who kept yammering about how she couldn’t find her fiancé. She kept saying how her fiancé was missing and how she couldn’t find her baby, meaning her boyfriend. Elaine said, “Maybe the dingo ate your bay-bay.” It was from a movie called “A Cry in the Dark.” Eh, nevermind.

AA: [Pulls her cheeks wide apart] Maybe the Flintstones ate your bay-bay.

AP: [Dies laughing and tries to tell Auburn Aries that it was DINGO not FlintSTONES and the difference between the two.]


Continuing with the restaurant story. Our server was this tall, built, attractive young buck whose name was…um, it was… crap his arms were huge and strong…his name though.. it was… his ass was firm and muscular. Crap, I know he had a name tag on… At least I think he had a name tag on.

Anyhoo, Tall Girl was captivated by his appearance (though I can’t imagine why) and felt the urge to strike up a conversation with Hard Body.

TG: Say, we have a bet going [we did not have a bet going nor was I aware she was going to use this tactic]. How old are you?

HB: How old do you think I am?

TG: 23?

HB: [turns to me] How old do YOU think I am?

AP: 28

HB: I turned 21 last April.

AP: [thinks to herself… DAMN]

TG: 21! You could be my child…

HB: [laughs and starts to walk away]

AP: [turns to him and says] You’re old enough to be my LOVER.

TG: [laughs]

AP: What are doin’ sayin’ shit like that?!?! That’s not the mental image you want him to have about you – that you’re old enough to be his mother! Good gawd. Sensual older woman, yes. Mother-figure, no.

Later that afternoon I was telling Hot Toddy about the boring, blasé server hot, built server, sparing no details (for Toddy’s benefit of course) at which point Aries pipes up:

AA: [speaking to me] Hey, I thought you were gay. Why are you checkin’ out guys?

AP: I’m gay, I’m not dead! I can still appreciate a fine lookin’ man. Besides, I was doing it for Toddy’s benefit.

AA: Yeah, right.

Of course, I probably have her Dad to thank for her current state of mind with regard to sex. She found his porn collection the last time she was there.

AA: ...And we opened this bag that I thought was full of my old Barbies and there were videos inside. So [my niece] pulled one out and it said "Slippery When Wet" on the cover.

AP: Oh, shit. What did you do?

AA: Well, we flipped it over and looked at the back.

AP: What was on it?

AA: A...guy... and he was [starts giggling] sticking his penis in the girls.....[covers mouth and appears grossed out] vagina.

AP: Nice. Well, I was hoping it'd be a while before you saw that kind of thing. Remember the talk we had about the birds and the bees? That's how the sperm gets inside to get to the egg.

AA: That's GROSS, Mom.

AP: You think it's gross now, it won't seem gross when you're older. Just do me one favor. When you're finally ready to do that, make sure the guy has on a condom.

AA: You mean a penis baggy?

AP: Yes.

AA: Well, I can't believe Dad has those sex movies. He came in and saw the bag out and said "ooops, that bag is mine" and walked out with it. I guess this explains why Dad is so desperate, huh?

AP: [mental note to self: never tell Aries it was YOU who ordered all those tapes]

Fortunately for me, she's forgotten about the time she opened up the drawer to my nightstand and found all my "friends" all lined up in a row. She was four at the time and I was cooking dinner.

AA: Mom, come here I have to ask you something.

AP: What is it Aries, I'm right in the middle of dinner.

AA: Just come on please.

We walk into my bedroom and I felt my stomach start to tighten. We continued around the foot of my bed toward the "passenger" nightstand. There before me was the drawer pulled all the way out.

AA: What are THOSE?

AP: Why are you going through the drawers in my bedroom?

AA: I don't know. But what ARE those?

AP: Aries, if you can't respect Mommy's things and stay out of my stuff, you're not going to be able to watch TV in here anymore.

I closed the drawer and prayed she'd never make the connection between all the various sized latex dildos and the only penis she had ever seen which was her Dad's. I knew I couldn't use the old "neck massager" story because none of mine (at the time) vibrated.

She's never asked me about the dildos since and I am grateful. I'm not ready to have the "Mommy pleases herself" conversation yet.

As Tall Girl pointed out during lunch, "She'll be the most educated kid in sex ed class. 'I know what that does and what the name of that is and how you do that.' With you as her Mom, how could she not be?

As of this writing, I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad one!

Go eight steps down the hall

Aries Dialogue

AA: Mommy, I want to do gymnastics and learn how to play the guitar.

AP: If You want to take guitar lessons, I’ll buy you a guitar and you can try it out. I think you’d probably like being able to play an instrument.

AA: It’s cheaper than a piano.

AP: It is – but if you want to play piano I’ll need a little more time to plan THAT purchase.

AA: What about gymnastics?

AP: Honey, if you want to take gymnastics to be more flexible or to get better balance or to just learn some fun stuff, I’m all for you taking gymnastics. I just don’t want you to go into it thinking you could compete.

AA: Why couldn’t I compete?

AP: Girls who compete in gymnastics are always stick people and you and I aren’t built like stick people. We never will be.

AA: [long pause] Thaaaaat’s not very encouraging. It’s true…but it’s not an encouraging thing to say. It isn’t about winning, Mom.

AP: [ouch – on both counts, i.e., her point and for dialing my ass in like that without even realizing she’s done it]

Aries Dialogue, Part Two

In the front windshield of my car, positioned on the glass behind my rearview mirror was a static sticker of a rainbow peace sign. It’s been in that same place on my last two cars. At one point this last summer, I took it down. Since I already have both a rainbow sticker and Leather Pride colors in my back window I figured there was no need to be gay all day at both ends of my car. Well, that and another reason which I won’t share.

Anyhoo, Auburn Aries was in the front seat of my car and chose to ask me about it

AA: What was right there [pointing the outline where the sticker was located]

AP: That peace sign rainbow sticker.

AA: Why did you take it off?

AP: It was slightly crooked.

AA: You could have just straightened it. You know, you “slightly” have OCD.

AP: How do you know what OCD is?

AA: Because you’re just like Elektra. Don’t you remember when she put that stuff on the kitchen counter and how she counted how many steps it took to get places in her house? You’re exactly like that. You can totally get through our whole house in the blackest dark. See, you ARE, you’re just like Elektra.

How in the hell did she get all of that out of my taking down a sticker??? Okay, maybe I'm a little OCD about certain things but just like Elektra? Hmm....I wish.

Smarties Pants

I know it’s after the fact, but I have to share some Halloween stories.

Toddy and I went to C.C. Slaughter’s the Saturday before Halloween. We hooked up with Pony and Chopper and The Professor and his partner The Mathematician. I just have to say that The Professor and The Mathematician are one of the hottest gay couples I’ve seen together in a long time. More on that later…

Toddy was dressed as an angel. For those of you who just spewed your coffee, it’s true. Though by all outward appearances it was the perfect costume, those of us who know Toddy and that devilish side know better.

He was dressed in a white tux with rhinestone lapels and collar, and a white shirt and poised above his head, a pink fluffy halo.

I was dressed in a white tank top with my boobs perched beneath it (thank you Victoria’s Secret) under a low cut, loosely crocheted pullover with a V neck. As we left the car, Toddy took what would have been his angel wings and put them on me. And for those of you who know ME… I don’t think an angel would be the best way to describe me.

Anyhoo, the costumes were great, some outrageous and some silly (like Angel wings). Some were just hot. Like Pony’s boyfriend Chopper – shirtless with his nakedness painted camouflage.

We did a lot of the usual standing around, laughing, conversing. Not much different than other times spent at C.C.’s, except when The Professor and The Mathematician came in we all about fell off our chairs. Wow.

The Professor was dressed in a matching red vinyl mini skirt and halter top and the hottest pair of CFMBs I’ve ever seen. For those of you unfamiliar with our world…Come Fuck Me Boots. They were the toughest pair of red vinyl knee high, lace up, 6-inch heeled boots I think I’ve ever seen.

Above the boots the tightest, muscliest (is that a word?) thighs. Not to mention his muscle bound shoulders and arms and biceps and... And he has the most beautiful, soft dreads all the way down his back.. Breathtaking.

By his side, his partner was dressed similarly in black… The Mathematician has the most beautiful bone structure in his face. His blonde hair was spiked and he, too, revealed a beautiful taut body. Looking into his eyes reveals a piece of his spirit. He’s a great guy. Together these two are very pretty together.

We all gathered around our usual end of the bar (I know, unbelievable that we have a “usual” area at the bar) and were talking when Hot Toddy reached into the pumpkin head bowl and grabbed out a roll of Smarties.

He stood, childlike, carefully untwisting the ends. It was as though no one else in the bar existed. He searched with anticipation for the edge of the plastic. Gently he pulled it open. He laid the open roll of Smarties in his palm.

It was at this moment that my angel wings were supposed to be revoked. Having watched him the entire time, I had obtained the attention of everyone in our group and pointed out the determination and childlike quality of Toddy’s actions. We all stood there watching.

I walked up to Toddy and said, “What’cha doin?” As he started to answer, I transferred my Margarita into my left hand and with one quick snap, popped him on the bottom of his Smartie-bearing hand and Smarties went flying EVERYWHERE.

I believe it was at this moment that he told me how much he adored me and the friendship I’ve blessed him with… Or something like that.

My actions only served to set the tone for the next 20 minutes.

Todd grabbed another tube of Smarties and with a loving, gentle look in his face said something like I Love You dear friend or stay away from me you bitch – I forget which. Laughing, I stepped back and left him to his desire.

Which apparently at this point was to be mean to Pony. See, Pony had just been delivered a new bottle of beer. Toddy quickly and attempting to not get caught reached over and dropped a Smartie into the top of Pony’s beer bottle.

Pony had his back turned. The rest of us stood there in amazement and watched as the candy caused the beer to foam up. In slow motion, foam bubbled out the top of the bottle. Todd was giggling so hard he couldn’t stop. With Pony engaged in a conversation, Toddy finally got his attention and pointed to the beer.

Pony snatched up his half-drank bottle and clutched it close to his chest all while shooting his Pony-evil-eye trying to make us feel bad. Didn’t work but it was a good effort on his part.

With Toddy armed and dangerous he proceeded to throw Smarties at people. There was one guy who was quite a bit shorter than Todd (who isn’t) and Todd simply hovered his hand above this poor guys head and dropped Smarties on him. The poor buy couldn’t figure out where it was coming from. And I’m sure we all looked innocent as we watched Todd drop them, would start laughing and then turn our heads away.

Then there was Toddy’s sideways attempt to flirt with The Toddtender – who by the way was dressed as the devil… my lord… yummy. Face painted red, devil horns, red cape, jock strap. Thick muscles and body hair – the best devil EVER. Where was I again…?

Oh yeah, WE almost got in trouble for something TODDY did by hucking a Smartie at The Toddtender. He thought WE were throwing ice and WE weren’t throwing anything.. Toddtender, IT WAS HOT TODDY WHO WAS THROWING SMARTIES AT YOU, NOT ME.

Moving on… Toddy then felt it necessary to try and bean me with those damn things. Surprisingly enough, it only took one. There I stood amidst conversation with My Boys when I felt this thing hit in my between my breasts. I looked up amazed and said, “You did NOT just throw that?!”

What I saw when I looked up was Toddy’s mouth hanging open, completely SHOCKED he made it on the first try.

I grabbed my tank and pulled it down and open slightly to show Todd that he had, indeed, nailed it when I heard this quiet, sexy voice say “Would you like me to get that for you?” I glanced over to see The Mathematician smiling at me waiting for my answer.

Well, seriously, what’s a girl to say to THAT offer? He had just been inducted into our family. Of course, I was going to let him get it. Hmm, kinda makes me sound slutty. Oh well.

I leaned forward and The Mathematician put that talented tongue of his to work. Now in all fairness, I need to point out that I’m a lesbian (shush up, everyone who knows me better). The artistic workings of the tongue is a lesbian’s forte. Therein lies the power. I’m here to testify that The Professor is one lucky bastard to have a man with such talent in his bed.

The Mathematician shut me up, right now. Talk about sensual. If I recall correctly my mouth fell open and my eyes grew large while I tried not to notice how good he was a Smartie retrieval.

Later that evening, I had the opportunity to dance (sandwiched in between) The Professor and The Mathematician on a sensual song that the DJ played. My god… these two men are so hot. I don’t think I’ll forget that dance anytime soon. If I could find a straight man who could move like that, I’d marry him tomorrow (so long as he lets me keep a female lover on the side).

Spiritual Mumbo Jumbo

As I was waiting on my tea this morning, I checked the thermometer on the deck. It was 27 degrees outside. The weatherman spoke of dense fog and patches of ice. The ODOT traffic guy warned morning commuters of the potential for accidents. The day was young and crisp. Sunlight was still creeping its way toward the foot of Mt. Hood and was yet to be seen. I’ve come to realize that dense fog means sunshine once it burns off and I was looking forward to a cold, sunlit day.

I dropped Auburn Aries off at school. Once she gets out of my car, I roll down the passenger window and we do our usual morning exchange as she walks toward the front steps of the school.

AA: Be unflappable, Mommy
AP: I’ll be unflappable if you will
AA: Okay, I’ll be unflappable then
AP: [placing a peace-sign made with my right hand over my heart] Peace in your heart, Little One.
AA: [placing a peace-sign over her heart] Peace in your heart, Mommy

With that, I drive away from the school watching her in my rearview mirror to make sure she gets inside before I actually pull away.

The sunlight had already made its way through the fog. I reached into my laptop bag for my Oakleys. As the darkness of winter approaches, I cling tight-fisted to each sun break for soon they will be gone until spring.

I awoke this morning to the tug of extremely strong spiritual cords as well. I could feel Young Stud before his eyes were even open. I could feel Daddy D. It was stronger than usual which served to remind me I need to be somewhat guarded today since I was nothing more than a huge receiver for emotion and all things spiritual.

I drove to work listening to music and feeling great. As I approached a red light, standing on the corner was a girl around 10 years old. She was wearing a knit cap and gloves and had a scarf wrapped around her neck.

She was crying.

I took a double take to make sure she wasn’t just squinting from the bright morning sun. A little girl crying on a busy corner is not normal. She was definitely crying. Her pain pierced into me like a sword. I don’t know what caused her pain but she was distraught.

Where was this girl’s Mom? Why was she walking alone to school? Are people so gawd damn naïve that they actually let their cute little daughters walk to school alone? Do these idiots not watch the fucking news? Hell college students turn up missing. You turn your back for a moment and that’s it - no second chance, no taking your 10 year old to school ever again. As long as I draw breath, Aries will never walk to school alone. Ever.

I am so cognizant that it only takes one moment, one wacko, one mistake and she’d be gone forever. My life would be over.

The little girl on the corner was away from home and her Mother probably had no idea she was hurting. Or did she? Was it possible her Mom could be a big enough disconnected asshole to actually send her daughter on her way to school alone, while she’s emotionally unstable and needs someone there for her? Was it something at home that was troubling her? Had someone hurt her? Was she scared?

I tried to process the feed I was getting from the little girl as quickly as I could, but I couldn’t get any images from her. Nothing was clear. There was only pain.

I needed to stop my car and check on her but I was on the inside lane, the light turned green and I was amidst traffic. I tried to get over, to no avail.

I lingered just long enough to see a minivan with what looked like two women in it pull up to her. I felt a sigh come over me. It wasn’t mine, it was the little girl's. It was tentative but released nonetheless. Her school was nearby, I did know that.

It occurred to me at that moment that in as much as the woman in the minivan pulled up to help, what good could it have actually done? Though I felt relief on some level, it’s also the one thing we tell our children not to do. Don’t speak to strangers. People who pull up in next to you in cars are likely to grab you so run away.

They are all pearls of wisdom but seriously… if someone tries to abduct your kid and your kid gets away they are supposed to run to the first person they see who looks “trustworthy” to get help. I can pretty much guarantee you that person will be a stranger. That then begs the question of how do you tell “good strangers” from “bad strangers.”

I felt immediately angry. Frustrated. Hell, I don’t know. I was overwrought with a flood of emotion. This world has become such a fucked up place that decent, compassionate people like myself who see a little girl that needs help don’t feel comfortable helping her because it would frighten her. Who should she trust?

There are so many freaks and addicts and low-lifes that suck the humanity out of our existence that people like you and I stand alone, strapped down, involuntarily bound from random acts of kindness. Trust but don’t trust. Love but be careful who you love. Give but don’t give too much.

I’m done. I’m tired of hearing about it. I may only be one person and my contribution may never make a difference to anyone other than my daughter, but she will be raised believing that there is good in people and being caring and loving and giving and compassionate carries its own rewards.

It’s time we, the compassionate part of the human race, step up our random acts of kindness until we squeeze out the trash in the world. It’s an uphill battle and I know it, but we need to believe in each other again. Human decency should be the norm, not the other way around.

Had I been able to get to that little girl this morning, I would have. Knowing me, I probably would have given her my business card so that she could let her parents know this nice lady stopped to see if she was okay. At least they could have called to make sure I was normal…

It’s time to increase our random acts of kindness until people start believing in human decency again. It’s time to be the light of the Universe until we can fix what’s broken. Whether it’s in this life or the next.

Young Stud, My Hero

I called in sick to work Tuesday. Though I have been fighting a bit of a cold, my calling in sick was more about needing to take care of some things around the house. I had an appraiser coming by at 3 p.m. and wanted the house to be looking great.

I was “this close” to having the office completely painted and staying home was the only way it was going to get done.

After I dropped Aries off at school, I visited with Hot Toddy before he left for work. My day was somewhat flipped up on its edge, however, when he pointed out that there was standing water on the downstairs kitchen floor.

It had been raining non-stop all morning. I looked around downstairs and couldn’t figure out from where the water came. Hot Toddy had put a towel down to soak up the water so I figured I’d get to it later.

I headed upstairs and started my painting when I felt a small splat of water hit my arm. I looked up to find a leak coming in from the roof that was running down the interior wall of my office.

I called my nephew who is a home contractor who told me to get someone to clean out my downspouts and the valleys of the roof. He indicated that given the storm in which we were firmly planted, it was no surprise ponding water was finding its way inside.

In tears, I hung up the phone not knowing what to do. Well, that’s not so much true. I called Young Stud. I told him of my dilemma. He asked how he could help and I told him that I needed him to come over and check my roof and clean out my downspouts.

And bless his heart he did just that. He left work at 9:15 a.m. and came out to my house. He threw on a pair of sweats and my Helly Hansen rain gear and up the ladder he went.

With a push broom and in pounding rain he swept off the asston of pine needles that my nine 150’ trees dropped this fall. With hands like ice, he unclogged my downspouts. He cleared both valleys on my roof and water was once again flowing where it was supposed to be which was not inside my house.

Once we both had a chance to dry off, we were sitting in the kitchen talking. I looked across the kitchen counter and saw someone who is a true friend. Someone who came when I called him and needed help. He did for me what I always try to do for those close to me.

I am such an independent woman and am so used to doing things for myself that I rarely ask for help. It’s not something that I am comfortable doing. In fact, I guilt myself a great deal by even needing to ask for help. I don’t like admitting I’m vulnerable (even though people know I am).

Tuesday was one of those days that I wished more than anything I wasn’t afraid of heights to the degree I am. Not only was I going to have to call Young Stud for help (though I know he didn’t mind) I had to call for help because I’m a big, fat chicken shit when it comes to heights. A homeowner who can’t get on her own roof. Nice.

That being said, thank you, Young Stud, for coming to my rescue. Not only are you easy on the eyes, you’re a man among men. I'm glad I have you in my life.

Professionally Speaking

Isn’t it odd that we are faced with so many decisions each and every day that we make without even really thinking about them? We get so engulfed in routines that you address the simple decisions just by shooting from the hip.

We get wrapped up in the idea that we know who we are, what we want, what we will and won’t accept. We’ve been raised to be a certain type of person whether you’re a ‘path of least resistance’ person or confrontational; quiet or outspoken; angry or happy; honest or dishonest; taking or giving.

We are the product of our parents, our environment, what we’ve been taught, our life experiences. These things all make us who we are at the core. You reach a point in your life where it’s up to you to complete who you are meant to be.

For many of us, that is a journey that will be unfulfilled in this lifetime. Not sadly so, because I am pleased with the person I’ve become and I look forward to all I have left to learn. I wouldn’t trade the fact that I’m 42 for anything (okay maybe 10 years for a certain someone who has an age hang-up…). I have the privilege of life experience and I am thrilled I have it.

Often times I have sage advice to offer my friends when they need it. It’s advice I could not have given 15 years ago. I like that about me. I like that I am able to look at the big picture in life and weigh everything out. Not always successful, but most of the time. Again, it’s a journey.

Today I was driving into work thinking about some of the day-to-day decisions I make. I’ve gotten into such a routine of perhaps making the same or similar decisions about how I deal with Aries or the choices I make at work, etc., that I realized it’s entirely possible that I’ve created an energy that’s a not productive.

Let me explain. As a parent, I deal with Aries a certain way. A way that’s familiar, a way that she’s come to expect. And I agree that consistency is good. But with her getting older and smarter, I should think outside the box a little more. I should think of different approaches that help her think and grow – that give her different choices.

Though she is thriving, as her Mother I will only grow so much if I limit myself to one style, one way. If I expand my thinking it will by default expand hers. And my only job in this lifetime is helping her become a balanced, accepting, loving, decent human being. If I don’t help her grow emotionally (and correctly), who will?

Work is a whole other ball game. I am liked by everyone with whom I work. I have excellent relationships with various departments, teams, management. I am knowledgeable about how to get things done, who to go to when you need something, what process works and what doesn’t and more importantly what back door to seek when all else fails.

I was the only Unix System Administrator for almost seven years for a mechanical contractor. All things IT went through me. I was critical in that role.

I was the Technical Lead managing a team of nine guys for Fred Meyer Corporate supporting 380 Unix servers. I trained Microsucks geeks in Unix. There, too, I was an important component.

I came to Company X as a Senior Unix Engineer. I become a Certified IBM Specialist. I worked on what was at the time the biggest project Company X had ever rolled out. I was the only person on call 24/7 for over a year supporting the 26 IBM servers that I had built for that project. I handled calls from developers in India in the middle of the night, every night, for over a year. I was critical to that project.

When I tried to get off that project, I couldn’t ever successfully move to another project because I kept getting pulled back into the old one. It didn’t pay to have that knowledge – it ended up sabotaging me. There was no easy way to transition out.

I left the Unix team after three years and went into IT Security. A well thought out plan. I ended up being sexually harassed for the first year while on that team and paid for it. Being the victim of that bullshit had so much backlash, my career never got off the ground. (That person no longer is part of our team).

I spent the next year reaching out, project after project, trying to be successful. I was promised the Lead position and then it was given to someone else. I was trying desperately to take my power back. I went from working for someone who took friendship too far to working for a different manager who told me I should put my lifestyle under the covers and not be so open. This same manager tells me I need to “soften the moxy” because I’m too forthright with people.

Confrontational does not always equal bad. At least people know where I stand and walk away from conversations with me not wondering if they got their questions answered.

During a meeting this week with my manager I find out he is “worried about me” because I haven’t a project that I can call my own. I haven’t anything that I can “take ownership of and be proud and look forward to coming to work each day for.” Well, gee, ya think?! He said he “hasn’t seen the tiger in Marilyn in a long time.”

All I could do was agree and for a brief moment feel excited that he realizes I have more to contribute than I have been. Ahhh, a light at the end of the “I made a bad choice coming to this team” tunnel.

Then I heard him offer to help me find another job on another team if that’s what it took to make me happy. Shit, I realized I’ve been too much for him to handle. I’m the odd man out. I have spent two and a half years in Security spinning my gawd damn wheels and have become the one person on the team who is more expendable than everyone else.

At least that’s how it felt.

I’ve never been in this position before. I’m the go-to guy. I’m the backbone. I’m the key to success, baby! Seriously, what the fuck has happened here? Am I being punished for being the way I am? Is it dealing with me too complicated? Is my personality too strong? My honesty offensive?

The bigger question, which is why I wrote this blog today, is what could I have done differently? I am 100% responsible for my 50% of this situation. Did I stop being accountable? Did I stop caring?

Each day I come into work and I do similar things – I make similar decisions – those made instinctually. At what point in my decision-making process with regard to my success here, did things go awry?

Each day I should come into Company X and treat it the way I do my life. How can I be a contributing [professional] today? What did I do yesterday that I would change? What can I do today that will push me [and my technical skill set]? Am I becoming complacent? If I am bored, change it.

I’ve stopped asking myself those questions professionally which is a huge failing on my part.

I feel like I’ve been so gawd damned beaten up on this team that maybe it’s true, maybe I stopped caring. Other people get away with shitty work ethics, poor performance, lack of knowledge (not specifically this team but in general) and they are rewarded for that behavior. My old manager couldn’t find her ass with both hands and kept getting promoted.

Though I am generally pleased with my work ethic and am not one of those people, how long is a person supposed to care about their jobs when such behavior exists.

I let it get to me. I stopped looking at myself and let the surroundings get to me. I became bitter. When the reality is I am but one component of what’s supposed to be a cohesive organization. It doesn’t matter what other people are doing – I need to focus on myself and my contribution. Turn inward and remember what’s real.

I hope that my manager’s concerns are just that, concerns. But I can’t help but feel that his inability to feel comfortable working with me will be the ultimate demise of my tenure here.

I know one thing, I’m not going down without a fight.

It’s entirely possible that I am being too hard on myself today. It’s entirely possible that tomorrow I will read this post and disagree with the fact that I feel my 50% of the responsibility outweighs Company X’s 50%. But for now, I won’t make any more decisions without really thinking about them. I’ve not lived my life in a vacuum, personally or professionally, and now’s not the time to start.

What a dick!

On Monday, October 24th I wrote a post that warrants clarification.

In that post, I spoke of a certain someone with whom I am very close who popped the wood – thanks to his boyfriend’s playfulness - while we were partying at C.C.’s Saturday night.

I ran into this certain someone last night and he essentially scolded me for being so polite when I wrote about his big, impressive hard-on.

I explained that I didn’t want to take such liberties when speaking of someone’s manhood and how maybe he would not have appreciated me implying he’s a big slut with his mass o’ meat and how he was waving it around with his head held high (pun intended).

Seriously, that thing should have its own gawd damn zip code!!!

Blogging about it for the comedic value and the visual imagery that accompanied my writing because it IS so impressive – is one thing. But I’d never, ever think about revealing his identity, ESPECIALLY on the internet.

It was at this particular moment that Pony reminded me of his own internet frivolities and laughed at the fact that I was trying to be discreet. Hot Toddy was sitting next to Pony and agreed that I should have just said it was Pony who sported such a phenomenal erection that night.

So that being said, Pony, the next time we’re in public and you get aroused…just let it go, man. You can’t hide 10 inches of erect flesh.

Matter of fact… I got 50 bucks says you do a little table dance for Mama… Oh yeah! I don’t care that you’re a gay man. It’s a thing of beauty and a person would have to be a moron not to gaze, gape, gawk – you get the idea – at something so magnificent.

Indignant...No, not me

While watching CSI last night my loving daughter, Auburn Aries, who was sitting immediately to my right announces:

AA: (with her right index finger pointing right next to my eyeball) You have CROWS FEET!

AP: (mouth falls open, head turns slowly toward Aries) They're laugh lines.

AA: No, they're not...they're crows feet.

AP: I don't know who taught you that shit, but they're LAUGH LINES and I've earned every one from a lifetime of laughter. So knock it off...they're NOT crows feet.

AA: Man, they're deep.

AP: Shut the hell up...

That's it... I'm calling a photographer to have pictures taken of me and Aries together so I can get them on my blog. Crows feet. Who does she think she is...damn kids anyway.

Apparently Mini Me has my honest-to-a-fault quality. I need to let the world see that THEY'RE LAUGH LINES. I'm serious. Old women have crows feet and I'll never be old.

Not a Dime a Dozen

I have a new housemate and youuuuu don’t. I love Hot Toddy being at the house. His energy is loving and engaging and his presence fills my house with even more love than it already has.

This weekend was our first full weekend as housemates. Saturday night we had plans to hook up with a new friend, The Professor, who’s moved here from San Francisco. And Jaden was in town and we were looking forward to meeting her as well.

Saturday night was one of those nights that mean the world to me.

Hot and I hooked up with The Math Whiz and The Lawyer at Crush for the closing party for the GLBT Film Festival. Neither of us had attended any of the film festival but what better place to people-watch our own kind than at such an event. We had such a good time talking and laughing. I was able to recount the drunken night o’ porch puking with physical comedy. It was great.

We ended up at C.C.’s and I found myself once again happily surrounded by My Boys. The Math Whiz had been joined by The Handsome Prince, Pony and Chopper showed up (after I retrieved them from a bar around the corner), The Toddtender was working and gave me my usual smooch when I arrived.

I ran into my friend, Tom, who is also my eye doctor. Our friendship materialized quickly and easily. It isn’t many people who are friends with their practitioners and I consider myself lucky to be in his inner circle. He’s always said that he believes I’m such a great catch and he can’t believe I’m single - as such he’s always on the look out for Ms. Right for me.

At one point in the evening, I stopped and took in my surroundings. There were my closest friends all talking and laughing and interacting just like we always do. It had been a while since we were all gathered together. There were no walls. No one was uncomfortable. Each of us knows the other intimately and can share our lives without fear of judgment.

There, working behind the bar, was my friend The Toddtender twisting up my Margaritas and always kind of looking out for me. He’s always taken the time to talk about real life things with me, not just bullshit bar talk. His friendship has come to mean a lot to me. Not just because I get to kiss his handsome face and soft, sweet, full lips (though if you could all see how hot he is, you’d agree it’s not a bad reason), but because his energy is very grounding for me.

I looked around at the other two other bartenders that were there, Chris who was on duty, and John who was not. They both sent me over drinks. I feel special when I am at C.C.s. The boys treat me with genuine kindness and it’s why I consider C.C.’s my home bar.

I watched our new friend, The Professor, interacting with everyone in our circle of friends and realized just how well he fit in. Being the Pisces that I am, I trust the energy read I get from a person when I first meet them and I’m generally not wrong. The Professor has a kind, gentle spirit and seems very grounded and every one thought he was great.

I spoke to Jaden and was equally impressed with her. Though the women she brought with her didn’t seem too keen on the boy porn. And if you’ve read any of my posts about C.C.’s you’d know that boy porn is one of the reasons I go there. I made sure to point out the well-endowed men just so I could watch them blush and giggle.

I saw a certain friend of mine with a hard-on invoked by his boyfriend. I am so close to this individual that when I saw his huge package straining the denim in his pant leg, I had to tease him about it. It was at this point he jokingly tried to adjust himself upward, when I said, “Yeah, that’ll work” and quickly lifted up his shirt tail exposing several inches of his manhood sticking up beyond his jeans (yes, near his bellybutton). We laughed…what more could you do.

I stood there and watched and felt the energy of each of my friends. I am so thankful for each and every one of them. I don’t know that I will ever be able to convey the depth of love I have for them. I am so blessed. I can only hope that other people are given the gift of friendship like I have been given because to live without it would truly be the worst fate.

We all left the bar headed for The Vortex. Toddy and I were looking forward to the rendezvous. Unfortunately for me, I got a headache before we left the bar. I wasn’t sure if it’s the lack of top shelf tequila or the cigarette smoke or whether it was just my turn to have one such headache, but as I drove across the river, I realized how piercing the oncoming headlights were and couldn’t escape the fact that this slight headache was turning into a full-blown migraine very quickly.

Toddy offered to drive and took me home thus sacrificing The Vortex. I headed into my bedroom and took off my earrings and watch and realized the evil migraine was about to turn my body inside out.

There, on my knees in my bathroom, I fell victim to its hatefulness. In between my desperate attempts to try and get control, a voice from outside the door spoke. “Do you want me to hold your hair back?” All I could do was laugh. Even in the throes of puking, Hot Toddy can still find humor. You see, I have short hair. There’s nothing to hold back.

Once I was able to get my composure, I opened the bathroom door and looked up at Toddy. “Thanks for the offer, Sweetie… I know you love me enough to hold my hair back...if I had any.” He brought me Advil, a couple bottles of water and a big bowl just in case I got sick again. He put me into bed and covered me up and made sure I was okay.

We laid around on Sunday and watched On Demand season two of Sex and the City and Weeds. I fought my headache all day long but it was still a great day spent with my dearest friend. Sick or not, I’m the luckiest person on the planet, and I know it.

Put the Toaster Oven Over Here...

I made a big decision.

It’s true. It’s a ginormic, hugantic decision that will affect everyone. Okay, maybe not everyone..

I’ve decided to keep my big-ass, mondo house and Hot Toddy will be moving in with me and Auburn Aries this week.

I spoke to Daddy D last week and told her of my struggle of whether or not to keep the house acknowledging that it’s not my dream house but that it has a lot of equity -or- sell it knowing that my original intent was to find something that was less maintenance.

Her advice to me was to go out looking at houses. She, being the double Virgo that she is makes every decision logically – as does Virgo Fairy Godmother (who is generally much more successful in her endeavors than Daddy D).

Daddy D also pointed out that being the double Pisces that I am, I make my decisions based on emotion. She knew I wouldn’t know my decision until I saw another house that struck my fancy. I know it’s not the best way to do most things, but it’s the way I’m built. Thank Goddess I’m surrounded by Virgos for just such input. Between she and Godmother I was getting my logic in bulk.

Fairy Godmother reminded me that unless I was going to downsize from 3,000 square feet, there was no need to bother selling it.

I went out with a realtor and looked around and am just not willing to give up my house for what’s out there. It could be the realtor I used just wasn’t showing me what I needed to see or that I wasn’t open to it or that I’m meant to live with Toddy.

Any way you look at it, I’ve decided to stay put.

Having Todd move in is a big deal for me for several reasons. These are not in any particular order…

He is my family.

Auburn Aries adores him.

I trust him.

Having his energy is the house will fill the emptiness downstairs that I detest so much.

We can have our many, many talks on the deck while looking at the Butte, enjoying a beverage without that annoying wait time while he’s on his way over.

He makes me laugh, oftentimes until I practically pee my pants.

He understands me and my lifestyle and my choices.

He vomits on my porch.

He loves me unconditionally.

He takes Aries for ice cream when they’re together.

He will be helping me out monetarily.

He wears grandpa undies which are SO hot.

He loves my kid.

On a more serious note - he needs us, his family, right now. Todd is going through a time of evaluation. He's taking time to think clearly about many things. Though he has been very strong in Thor’s absence and is rolling with the punches, there comes a time when you have to think about what is really important in your life.

His accident the other night didn’t help matters any. I was grateful that he had me to turn to. He was very rattled by the whole thing. It happened just blocks from my house. I was able to get him settled and keep him grounded as best I could. And I tried to comfort him as he cried because his emotional plate feels so full this was just one more thing that he didn’t need.

Sometimes a person can be in a crowded room and be the loneliest person there. I don’t like that Todd or any of my friends feel lonely. I don’t like it when they feel their lives are lacking when there is so much for which to be grateful. I don’t like for Todd or any of my friends to feel they need to talk to someone even though they don’t know what they need to say, but there’s no one there to listen.

Life is complicated enough just by its very nature. Having added stress and emotional strain only makes it unbearable at times.

For Todd, Auburn Aries and I will be his safe place to fall. My house is my sanctuary – it’s where I find peace and where I get grounded. It’s where I can shut the world out and just feel safe. It’s my controlled environment. Todd hasn’t had that sanctuary in a while nor has he felt safe and loved in the way he needs or deserves to be.

So together we’ll get through this stage of life and be there for each other – through all the men and the women and the drama and the confusion and the hurt and the tears and the desperate need to understand when you have nothing to go on.

I will help him be strong when he needs it because that’s what you do when you love someone. You put your own needs aside and reach out. Which when you’re dealing with Todd, can be one of the most rewarding experiences you’ll ever have because the love you get back is ten fold. I haven’t lost sight of what’s real and true in this life and I will always be there for him.

So come home, Hot Toddy. We’re waiting for you with open arms.

It's not too late

As I pulled into the downtown parking structure where I work, I couldn’t help but notice several police cars, police tape and reporters everywhere.

Scattered along the streets, the front steps and sidewalk of Company X, stood onlookers. There weren’t droves of them, but enough to realize something serious had happened.

As I handed over my valet key to the parking guy, he told me that one of window washers fell fatally to his death this morning. I was shocked. He fell from one of the six-story buildings on our campus here in Portland.

I stopped and looked up at the building. The ropes lay silently against the rain-soaked building. Ropes that we’ve all seen hold a man’s life in the balance every day were vacant. At the foot of the ropes in the foliage that surrounds the building lie a man’s body sheltered with yellow plastic.

Authority figures gathered in clusters, talking. OSHA was present, Policemen guarded the young window washer’s body, and the coroner had arrived.

Reporters hungry for a story moved from spot to spot searching for the best angle. They felt like a nuisance to me. This situation had nothing to do with me, yet I was pissed off and wanted them to back off. I worried that this young man’s family had not been contacted.

Death penetrated the area much the same way rain had soaked our streets all morning. It was everywhere and there was no avoiding it. There was no crack in the darkness.

Hot Toddy and I pulled into the parking structure at the same time. We stood there in shock talking about it.

This young guy whose face we all know, got up for work this morning thinking it was just another day. He probably drug his ass out of bed wishing he could have slept a little longer just like all the rest of us do. He was going to work to do a job that he had done hundreds of times before and just like that his life ended.

We spoke of how awful it would be to fall to your death. We talked about those last seconds of your life spent praying to your higher power. We wondered what his last thoughts were and know that fear had to have completely saturated him.

Was this his destiny today? What would have happened if he had hit the snooze just one more time? Would it have truly offset the chain of events that comprised his life today? Did he see his life flash before him? Did he have time to tell his wife that he loved her as he fell?

I’ve always kind of believed that a person’s spirit is only supposed to be as old as they are when they die. To keep someone alive or dodge death changes your course. Perhaps it’s because of my belief system that our lives are like a spiral that is small at the base and gets larger as you progress in the outward motion of the spiral. The spiral begins when we are born and you travel through your life in this existence to a certain point on the spiral. When your life here ends, you’re reincarnated and pick up your life at that same place on the spiral and progress a little farther. You repeat this process until you’ve gotten everything out of it you are supposed to.

I know many of you may think it’s a lot of hocus pocus… more Pagan mumbo jumbo. But it’s my thought process. To think one is restricted to only *this* lifetime is far too limiting to buy into for me.

This young man’s death this morning has affected me a great deal.

The most basic of reasons is that he is still here. His spirit isn’t released. I can still feel him here. His presence is strong. This is one of those times that on the surface I wish I couldn’t feel so much energy from people. Conversely, I am blessed because I have this ability.

Today I have been reminded of how precious life is. And how short it is. It could end tomorrow for any of us. If one could truly live each day of your life like it’s your last imagine how enriched your life would be. You’d live each day doing that which is truly important to you. Your life would be full and never lacking.

You’d love who you wanted to – regardless of age or race or sex and do so knowing you were being true to your heart. You’d see sharing love as a true gift not to be taken for granted.

You’d realize that argument you had with that person who means so much to you was unnecessary and you could have communicated your point without heated words. Or you could have taken a breath and let them speak their heart knowing that always being the one to be heard isn’t the most important thing.

You’d understand though compromising can really suck, it’s all give and take and somehow it always works out.

You’d feel every kiss you’re given. You’d no longer throw a quick peck on the lips of your Significant Other prior to blasting out the door to run off to work or the grocery store or the gym. Instead you’d take the five seconds it takes to really kiss them and tell them I Love You in a tone that conveys you truly do.

Each touch and every embrace would remind you how blessed you are in your life.

You’d realize the time for healing is now.

You’d be reminded that you are dealt a hand of cards when you are born (each card representing the big events in your life) and you can choose to hold those cards in your hand your entire life or you can choose to throw down the cards that burden you and pick up new ones.

You’d understand how holding onto the past keeps you there and that you can’t move forward without letting some things go.

You’d live your life with conviction and sincerity and passion.

You’d take a breath every time your kid drives you crazy and imagine for a second your world without that little life that depends so wholly on you and perhaps take a gentler path in dealing with him or her.

You’d let down your walls and open your heart.

You’d take a look at the world and the path it’s on and realize though it’s on a difficult path of destruction, we still have each other and are stronger when together than we are when we’re apart.

Or just maybe we could seize this opportunity right now to stop living our lives on the fast track and take time to really live. Though we may not have the means monetarily to live our lives as though each day is our last, we can do so on an emotional level and be thankful. Perhaps start telling your friends that you love them before you hang up the phone. Take the time to listen when someone is speaking to you and needs your help. Just start being the loving, decent people we are meant to be.

I know that if my life ended tomorrow, the people in my life would know where they stood with me. Auburn Aries would know unequivocally that I loved her more than life itself and that she is every part of me. She knows that I live inside of her every second of every day.

There are things I will think about a little differently having been reminded today how short life is. I am in no way perfect. But I would die knowing I’m okay and right with the world. And there’s a lot of peace in that.

Sisterly Love

The following is an exchange that took place Friday morning between me and my sister, Skinny Girl. You can feel the love. (We weren’t serious…just so you know).

Background:

I sent out an email to close friends and coworkers to see if they would sponsor Auburn Aries in Run for the Arts.

The Email Thread:

Morning,

Just wanted to check with all of you and see how you'd feel about sponsoring Auburn Aries in Young Audiences' Run for the Arts. Young Audiences is a non-profit arts in education organization that helps the school raise funding for educational arts experiences, classroom workshops, field trips, artists performances and residencies.

It's a tax deductible donation. They have 45 - 60 minutes (sorry, can't remember which) to run/walk a quarter mile track. You can make a flat donation or a pledge based on the number of laps she completes. The run is on October 21st. Donations need to be collected by November 4th.

I have the form at my desk and would be happy to add you to it if you're interested.

Thanks!
Auburn Pisces


Reply from Skinny Girl:

Hey bunghole - you've still not cashed the check I gave you back in February for one of Aries’ school things. It was for $14.00. What's the deal man?

AP response:

Oh hell fuzzy! What the Sam Hell is going on here?! Horse shit Julie. Like I know where that effing check is at. Add the $$ back into your account. I'm sure I covered the cost and if I find the check, I'll shred it. So what? I lose one gawd damn check and so you're sayin no, you won't sponsor a poor child hungry for the arts? What a bitch!

SG:

Listen here you whore. I have been trying to balance my effing checkbook for MONTHS and it's been hell because of YOU. You want money, I give you money, you don't use money. MAKE UP YOUR EFFING MIND!!!!!!!!! Yeah, I'll give you more money, cash this biotch.

AP:

You dirty rahhhhht. If it was a big gd deal, you'd have called my f*cking ass months ago m*therf*cker - so quit'cher belly achin. And if you'd reread the original email it asks for a GD PLEDGE YOU *SSHOLE so belly up and sponsor my bratty kid. NOW

SG:

Why you lyin' piece-o-shit. I did call your goofy ass MONTHS ago and you said.... AND I QUOTE: "Hmmm, wonder what I did with that check? I'll look for it sis and get back to you". Yep that was the last I heard about that. As usual, I got tossed to the back friggin' burner to simmer all alone. That's it. I'm sick of you sons-a-bitches treatin' me like dirt. Nice. Nice to know I'm at the top of YOUR m*therf*ckin' priority list. Family. Right. Gawd, kiss my white ass!!!

AP:

So, you're in for sponsoring her again then?!?!

SG:

Bah ha ha - okay.

No Naughty Nurses

With Halloween coming, Auburn Aries is again perplexed by what she should be. And with me not being one of those “super-Moms” with plenty of time to spare to sew a costume, I end up waiting until the last minute to help her figure it out. I hate doing this because it just creates stress.

We went over to Fairy Godmother’s house last night and Aries helped her build the life-size ghoul Godmother puts in her front window every year. Doesn’t matter how often I see them build the damn thing, every time I walk outside and look at it with the light shining up on it from the floor it freaks me out.

This is also why I don’t participate in Haunted Houses. I scare easily. It’s why when I saw What Lies Beneath in the movie theatre with Grouchy Girl, I jumped out of my seat and knocked a 32 ounce Pepsi in her lap. I can’t watch scary movies alone. I own Butterfly Effect and won’t watch it. The Grudge is playing on HBO right now and The Math Whiz told me that it scared the living shit out of him so I won’t watch that either.

There needs to be someone sitting next to me whose flesh I can claw when I’m scared. That same person needs to plan on sleeping in my bed so that even when the security alarm on the house is activated, they’ll hold me tight because of what already exists inside the house and the potential for those entities to “get me.”

Unreasonable? Perhaps. But just because I can’t SEE it, doesn’t mean it’s not there.

I know there are costume shops out there but when you have an eight year old who is 4’10” it seems hard to find an age appropriate costume that will work for her. In this morning’s edition of The Oregonian it said that adults are spending 84% more on costumes this year than last, according to Shopping.com, and online searches for sexy costumes have jumped by 180% on that website over the past two weeks.

I know every year I hit the Halloween Shops that sprout up all over the city and find that Aries can no longer shop in the little kids section. And when we contemplate what’s out there in adult sizes, it’s so racy that I have to explain to her that she’s too young to dress like slut! Okay, I don’t say it like that but…

That same article listed the top five costumes that are best-sellers to date:

Women’s Sexy Tuxedo, 785 costumes sold
Jessica Rabbit, 527 costumes sold
Tinkerbell, 511 costumes sold
Belly dancer, 388 costumes sold
Naughty nurse, 377 costumes sold.

Don’t think for a second that theme doesn’t roll out into stores. It does. And it’s not that I don’t appreciate seeing a hot woman wearing one of these costumes. But for right now, I don’t ever want to see my daughter in one of those costumes.

The day she’s old enough to wear and buy a Naughty Nurse costume, might well be the day you find my lifeless body sitting in my car in my garage with ignition still running!

A Birthday Bash Crash

Because I am a Pagan and don’t have the burden of carrying around religious guilt like someone I know, I have decided to finally write about this last weekend and Hot Toddy’s birthday. I wanted to give him a couple days to finally be able to laugh about the events that took place. Well, that time has passed.

A Story
by Auburn Pisces

The day began with an 8 a.m. wake up call by blasting Gwen Stefani’s Hollaback Girl on the stereo, and shouting that it was time to get up. Hot Toddy’s birthday celebration needed to begin.

I had invited our family over: Metro and Juju, The Handsome Prince and The Math Whiz, Pony and Chopper, and The Toddtender and made a breakfast consisting of eggs, bacon, sausage, hash browns, and bisquits and sausage gravy. Flowing plentifully were the Mimosa’s and Bloody Mary’s. Everyone stood around and talked and laughed – it was great.

As I looked around the house at the people I have in my life, I realized how incredibly blessed I am. Having our little family of friends together felt like home and fulfilled the need I have for the love of a family that I miss so desperately.

Okay, enough girl shit. Moving on…

Fast forward through the installation of the CD player into Dolly (Todd’s car). “Man, I feel like such a grown up now, having a CD player in my car.”

Fast forward through hanging out at Pony’s new house, The Pony Palace. Fast forward through standing in Pony’s coat closet because it smells EXACTLY like Young Stud and I couldn’t get enough of the scent.

Fast forward through tacos for dinner and watching a movie. Fast forward through a 30 minute nap.

Fast forward to C.C. Slaughter’s where the real story begins.

We arrived at 9 p.m. soon thereafter joined by Pony and Chopper. The bartender brought us the usual Margarita and Maker’s neat. The Margaritas were perfect that night. I was well-rested and looking forward to a long night of partying.

The Bar-back, heretofore referred to as Built Bar-Back (BBB), came by the bar and offered Hot Toddy a couple of shots for his birthday. I believe it was BBB’s intention to assist Toddy in his birthday buzz and to watch him cringe as he surprised him with whatever concoction he put into the bucket glasses o’ buzz he was serving him.

Toddy downed the first shot and winced at the taste. Wild Turkey. Ew. On the second shot (I think it was a mix of Maker’s and Wild Turkey and Yukon) BBB gave him, Toddy hesitated.

“Drink that and I’ll rip this t-shirt right off my body and give it to you for your birthday.”

It was zero to sixty in 2.3 seconds. With a swift backward tip of Hot’s head the shot was gone. All that was left was the long, uncontrolled shudder of another nasty shot. Toddy slammed the glass back down on the bar and looked at BBB with anticipation… as did we all.

BBB reached up to the crewneck of what appeared to be a brand new t-shirt and ripped it wide open right down the center of his tan, taut torso. Geezus, this guy’s body is so tight. We all cheered. Toddy quickly bunched the shirt up and held it to his face trying to inhale whatever scent was left by BBB. Unfortunately there was no scent on the shirt. I know because I demanded Toddy share the shirt long enough for me to see what BBB smelled like as well!

Throughout the course of our visit to C.C.’s Toddy disappeared several times to take what I thought were incoming calls on his cell. Turns out he was disappearing to drunk dial people…all over America. To those of you who received the calls, yours was but a brief encounter with Drunk Toddy. Keep reading and feel my pain!

So lot’s of laughter and flirting and drinking of free shots later (it was 10:30 p.m.) I looked over at Toddy and realized that he had lost his 6’6” frame to a slumped over, one-eyed blob of man slumped over the bar. I started to laugh – not because it was funny (though it was) but because I knew at that moment, my night just got a lot longer! I had no idea how I was going to maneuver him into and out of my car or get him into the house.

BBB walked up and I pointed out the buzz level to which Toddy had fallen victim. BBB cheered that he helped Hot get fucked up on his birthday. It was at this point that I told BBB that I was going to have to kick his ass.

I began to coordinate my departure with Pony when one of the bartenders came up and told me that in as much as he didn’t want to have to do it, he was going to have to ask me to get Todd out of the bar because of his visible intoxication level. I was already on it.

I pulled my car around to the front of the bar to find The Huge Bouncer and Pony and Chopper carrying Todd out of the bar. It was like Todd had no bones! Toddy was standing there, body wrapped around a sign pole with this drunken grin on his face. The boys poured him into my car and I drove him back to my house.

All the way home, I strategized how I was going to get Todd out of my car. I’m 5’10” and well, a girl. I was no match for a drunken giant man with no bones!

I pulled into my driveway, unlocked the front door, opened the passenger door of my Camry and began my escapade.

I grabbed Toddy by his lapels – wads of coat in each fist, took a wide stance and heaved. Nothing. I took another deep breath and pulled. Still nothing. It was like I was Chicken Little trying to lug Foghorn Leghorn out of a recliner. There was no way I was going to be able to get him out of the car.

There he sat comfortably passed out in my car oblivious to my plight while I was trying to hoist him out of the car - my back arched so far back I was actually looking up at the stars!

“TODDY! TODDY…YOU HAVE TO WAKE UP. IT’S TIME TO GO INSIDE.”

He stirred. With arms like lead and an inability to assist my efforts, I place his hands on either side of the car door frame and on the count of three, I got him to his feet. He staggered a couple of giant steps sideways at which point I yanked him back the other direction slamming him into the side of my car.

I again grabbed his lapels pulling him toward me as I walked backwards coaching him step by step toward the front of the car. Unfortunately, the car ran out and his momentum carried him forward right into the side of my house. I let him go knowing the house would break his fall.

I stood there taking in some deep breaths contemplating my next move when all of a sudden I heard this roar. It was not the roar of a mighty lion but rather my best friend hurling his guts up all over my front walk. Seven times. Seven times people. Who has that much puke? Seriously! I kept my back to him until I was certain he was at a stopping point.

If I weren’t Aries’ Mom and was not used to the sounds and smells of someone else’s puking, I would have been a sympathy puker in a hot second. Instead I watched as Toddy headed for the banister around my front porch. He leaned over and hurled two more times. I wasn’t so much worried about his puking as I was about the incredibly loud gagging noises he made while he dry-heaved. I honestly expected lights in the neighborhood to start flipping on to see what the raucous was.

I grabbed the water hose and hosed off the patio and the flowerbed pushing everything to the street. By the time I was done, he was ready for round two.

I grabbed his coat again and guided him up the two steps in front of my house and then in my front door. I turned him toward the stairs and ran around behind him so he wouldn’t fall on me as I got him into the bedroom downstairs.

“WE’RE GOING DOWN THE STEPS, TODDY. READY.. TAKE A STEP.”

He extended his right leg and it landed square on the first step.

“READY. STEP.”

As he lifted his left leg, his pants fell down around his ankles. I started laughing and couldn’t stop. All I could think about was how unfair it was that I was the only person to see this comedy of errors happening.

“My pants! My pants fell down. Dammit! I gotta get my pants.”

“LEAVE EM!” I commanded. “Just tell me you’re wearing undies, Todd.”

He was.

Step-by-step I guided him down the stairs with his Levi’s bunched below the tops of his cowboy boots. He took little baby steps, scooting his feet like a little kid – a little drunk kid – bouncing off the counters and appliances in the downstairs kitchen like a pinball.

I got him into the bedroom and planted him at the foot of the bed, right in the very center. Assuring he was okay, I ran upstairs to pee and on my way back down heard a loud thud. Thinking he knocked over the floor lamp I rounded the corner to find Toddy laying on the floor between the bed and the wall – on his back, long-ass legs and feet in the air.

“I fell,” he slurred.

“Gee, ya think?!?!”

He had managed to get his boots and pants off and now laid before me in his shirt, undies and socks helpless, as I laughed. Having no coat to grab this time I offered the pillow and the comforter to the floor to which he agreed. In the amount of time it took me to grab the comforter he somehow found the momentum to get up onto the bed and immediately passed out.

I stood in the doorway to the bedroom and shook my head.

Now, I know I’m a good friend to people. I always try to be there for those I love. Doesn’t matter what they need, I will always try to help. I believe that Karma is a powerful thing, do unto others and all that…shit. But I’ve got to tell you, as I stood there making sure my best friend was breathing okay, I realized that my Karmic bank account was going to be full for a very, very long time!

As I walked away from the bedroom, I reminded Toddy of one last thing…”Fucker, you’re gonna owe me for a long, long time…”