Of Spinach and Brain Aneurysms

6/9/08

I know, I have broken one of the cardinal rules of blogging, and that is to consistently post entries. My last entry was March 27 but surely that many people aren't interested in my blog?

First off, I came up with a fabulous recipe for spinach that I have to share with you. I knew I wanted spinach tonight with dinner and I prefer cooked spinach to just a spinach salad. I don't know what to call this so it's untitled for now. Let me know if you have a good name for it.

1 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
1/4 cup fine balsamic vinegar
1/4 tsp anise seeds
1 tsp dried cilantro
Firm shake of cinnamon
2 cups of baby spinach, with firm stems removed
10 red grapes, halved

In a large, non-stick pan, heat oil and vinegar over medium heat. Add spices and stir. When hot, add spinach and cook, stirring constantly, until just beginning to wilt. Add grapes and cook for one minute longer, or until spinach is wilted. Serve over chicken breast with wild rice. Can also stuff a thick chicken breast by cutting a slit in the middle of the breast and stuffing with half the spinach mixture. Or pound out a chicken breast until 1/4 inch thick, put half the mixture in the middle of the breast; roll shut and pin with toothpicks. Cook until done, approximately 30 minutes.

So, the deal about the aneurysm. Who knows what I have. But this has been a bumpy week for me. After suffering with daily headaches for over three months, I finally made an appointment with a neurologist. She thought it might be a condition called pheochromocytoma. This is where you have a tumor in your adrenal gland, causing an outpouring of stuff like epinephrine, adrenaline and other hormones that cause your blood pressure and heart rate to spike. Oh, my blood pressure on that visit was through the roof. I was sweating a lot, had some hand tremors--basically, I was a mess. So first I was worried about this pheochromocytoma. I did a 24 hour urine collection, and then waited for my PCP to call me back with the results. More on that later.

Then I had an MRI with contrast last Monday, June 2. Pretty standard diagnostic tool for headaches. On Wednesday, my doctor calls and leaves me a message on my work voice mail. Well, I don't check any of my voice mails. Then she called again on Thursday, talked to Reed and left a message on my home voice mail. Finally, I listen to the message on Friday morning, about 2 a.m. She said the radiologist saw a "spot" or an "area" that he was concerned about and wanted another test to help him identify it. So today, Monday, June whatever, 9th, I got a CT angiogram of my brain.

So now, I get to worry if I have a tumor on my adrenal gland, is it malignant, etc. And I get to worry if I have an aneurysm. I think I know enough about neuro now, after marketing them for a few years now, to know that they likely did not see a brain tumor on my MRI. The CT angiogram is better for detecting vascular problems, like aneurysm. The tech at my CT appt today asked me, "So is this a known aneurysm?" Huh?!? "Well, I don't know what I have." Then he backpedals a bit.

So I am wondering if this is how "it" starts, this process of having some serious disease or condition. Right now, I am in the excruciating waiting period, waiting for some confirmation of what the hell is going on with me. I mean, this is never how it is for me. I always think I am extraordinary, then it always turns out I am just ordinary. So based on my history, my neurologist should be calling me Wednesday and saying, "Well, not to worry, it's just stress headaches. Just reduce your stress levels!" And we all laugh and laugh. Of course, I want to be ordinary now. My life is going pretty good. Good job, great boyfriend, nice house, adorable cat, normal friends. Normal life.

Wait, what was that one line? Was it from a Sex and the City episode?? "You can't have a great job, a great boyfriend and a great house all at the same time" Was that the line?

Is this what other people do just before getting a serious diagnosis? Say things like "It can't be possible." "I'm just fine" "There's nothing to be concerned about"? I'm ordinary. Dammit.

And my neurologist did tell me that it might be migraines, my symptoms match with migraines. And that people get migraines later in life. Even if they have never had a migraine in the past or never were bothered by headaches in general.

And truth be told, my blood pressure has run high for years now. I don't eat right, I don't exercise. I am 41. What should I expect? Of course, I have high blood pressure and hypertension can cause headaches. This is my wake up call. God, are you listening? This is my WAKE UP CALL. I get it! I am going to lose weight, go to the gym at least three nights a week. I passed by that giant cookie someone brought into work today. I passed it at least a dozen times and never touched it. Not until I was leaving for the day, and there were only crumbs left. And I picked up the tray and put all the crumbs in my hand and ate them. But I won't do that again. I will bring my Weight Watchers chocolate chip cookies to work and eat one of them if I am tempted again.

Well, shit. It just popped into my head that I may have skipped a few steps in the disease process stages, if it's like Kubler Ross' stages of grief. Am I freaking bargaining now in my blog entry??

And the worst part of all this is the fatigue. When I saw the neurologist, I didn't mark the box asking if I was fatigued. That's not me. That's crawling up the steps to go to the bathroom. I am not fatigued. But dammit if I can't get through the day now without a nap. I had to come home from my CT scan this morning and take a nap before going back to work. I think that is just the stress of waiting and going through all these tests. Once I get a definitive answer, I will be back to normal.

I guess I have yet again broken another cardinal rule of blogging--"Keep it short!" Well, for the love of god, I can't keep any of my writing short. I got a lot on my mind. If you don't want to read this, then stop reading!

But I will try to keep you all posted (you all being all three of you!) on what I find out. And maybe those entries will be shorter, but don't count on it.

Drew

PS: well, I have to do a PS, as I was proofing this (yes, I always proof what I write, at least putting it in Word to do spell check), I realized I didn't tell you about my lab results today. I started calling my doctor's office, my PCP, last Thursday to get the results of the urinalysis. Then again on Friday. No response. They usually send a postcard to your house telling you everything is normal. I don't want a postcard, I want someone to call me, whether it's normal or not. Today I used their online system to send one email, then another at 4:20 when I hadn't heard back from them and they had forwarded their phones before closing time. I told them I would be coming in person the next day to get my lab results. And I was all prepared to do so, ready to cancel a 9AM meeting to wait there as long as I needed to. That is such BS. So Samantha called me at 5:30 to give me my results. So liver is normal. Oh, and my cholesterol was crazy high when my PCP did it in his office so he had me do a fasting cholesterol. My bad cholesterol is normal, my good is low and my triglycerides are high. And the chromo-somethings in my urinalysis were normal. But they were still waiting on the results of the metanephrine and she hoped they had would have these results tomorrow. So I am half okay. I am frustrated that this is taking so freaking long. I want answers so I can go back to normal. I want normal.

dc

It's good to be gay

This is a You Tube video that is guaranteed to make you feel great after watching it. I am posting it here as a testament about what is so freaking fantastic about being gay. It's 11:30 PM on a work night so I am not going to write much but I did want to capture this. Maybe later I will add to this post and discuss my beliefs about how great gay people are, even the ones that embarrass us sometimes. It is this kind of personal freedom that I think most people need to strive for to have a better life and a healthier planet.



Drew

AI

It's American Idol night. It's crazy the things that Reed and I have Tivo'd, but we love them all and TV should be an escape right?

American Idol
America's Next Top Model (current and marathons on MTV)
Project Runway
My Life on the D List (Miss Kathy....Griffin!)
Life in the Fab Lane with Kimora Lee Simmons

You get the idea. Of course, Reed, the smartie, tivos Meet the Press and other political new shows. He is the one who introduced me to The Rachel Maddow Show on Air America Radio. Go to www.maddowonline.com to read her blog or sign up for the podcast on iTunes. Just do a search for Rachel Maddow.


Brooke White, 2008 American Idol

Anyway, AI. We are pulling for Brooke White to win. I voted 27 times tonight. Reed voted less times than that. We just love her. It's a little embarrassing, I admit it. But that's obviously the allure of AI. Brooke, right.

I am also now pulling for David Cook. I really could not stand him before, mostly because of his freakishly large head, especially his forehead. And I hate how his hair barely covered all that head. But he is really brilliant in his arrangements. Tonight the singers has to sing songs from the year they were born. I didn't even recognize David Cook's song until halfway through and that was only because Reed told me what it was: Michael Jackson's Billie Jean. He turned it into a rock anthem. Really a talented guy. I guess this photo of him from Flickr.com is about the best to show how awful this guy's head is (left). Do you agree with me? Or am I being a dick?

The girl I am ready to boot off myself, Ramen-noodle Malubay. Whatever the hell her name is. She is bugging me.

The vote for hottest ass on the show goes to Michael Johns, the hottie from Australia. He is a great performer also.


Michael Johns, smoking hot backside


Michael Johns, smoking hot frontside

The guy I was sad to see go since I thought he was wicked eye candy--Luke Menard. Tell me he isn't the spitting image of Orlando Bloom?


Orlando Bloom


Luke Menard

Faith by Fire

I have to admit that it creeped me out a little bit to get this email message from a work colleague (see the bottom of this post for the message). But as these things always do, it got me to thinking. We keep so much of our true selves hidden from those we are closest to. Our faith, for one. The true essence of our character. Our quirks, our foibles. This blog is a great example of that. Right now, only two people know about this blog: Reed and a work colleague I happen to like very much and respect. I have been hem-hawing about sending the link to the blog to very many people, as I have already written things about myself that I am not sure I am comfortable everyone knowing about and worrying about what they will think of me. When Reed read my blog entry called "Sugar Babies," at the end of it, he just said, "Well, I guess I won't be sending this blog to my mom." And true, I won't send this to my mom either! I mean, I have to have some sense in my head!

But my whole life, I have spent too much time living in fear of what others might think of me. In my early twenties, I really did live a double life. I had "church friends" who were all gay, Christian, well adjusted, not hung up about damnation for living as a gay man or lesbian woman. And part of me was that person too. But then I had another side of myself, the guy who went to the bars most nights of the week, and when they closed, I went to the bathhouses in Indianapolis and had anonymous sex with men. I drank to excess, to vomiting, to blacking out. I did drugs. The people I hung out with were pretty much the same: bars, sex, drinking--just existing. I kept this part of my life hidden from most of the people I knew outside this life, with the exception of my best friend, Ken. God love him, he was right there with me in a lot of these situations!

When I was 26, I finally graduated from college after taking the eight-year plan to the extreme. I had a graduation party. I was pretty drunk that night but in the midst of it all, I was aware of a very surreal feeling--seeing so many very distinct groups of people that I considered "friends" all over the house (for some reason, my parents let me have the party at their house). My wild, drunken bar friends were outside on the patio. Someone found a college fraternity paddle in our house (I am pretty sure it was in a grab box at an auction my parents went to--they likely got the whole box of stuff for $1.00, when my mom probably just wanted one thing in the box!) People were hooting and hollering as they got bare bottom spankings. I have a photo of myself sitting in the lap of a particular leather daddy I had a crush on at the time, David. He had chaps on with boots and a leather vest. I was a skinny thing in my own leather vest and combat boots. My friends and I referred to ourselves during that period at "The Leatherettes." Pretty true statement. The leather for me at that time was more of a way to explore and assert my masculinity....trying out different personas, trying to discover who Drew really was. I was the master for a while, and the slave for a while. I toyed with S&M a little bit. It all scared the hell out of me and for the most part, it wasn't really as much about me being adventurous as it was being curious to try stuff out and find out if it clicked for me and could be integrated into who I was (or as it says in the book, "Conversations with God," Who I Am and Who I Am Meant To Be.)

But again, I digress. I was struck how my wild friends were outside, and just inside the patio door sat a group of my church friends. My college friends were gathered in the kitchen and I was oblivious to people's reactions when a leather daddy in full leather drag came inside to use the bathroom and had to cut through the family room and kitchen to reach the guest bathroom. I know this is true of other gay men based on my readings and my own experiences, but I have felt like a chameleon my whole life, from preschool Drew, to grade school, high school, college and adulthood. I could hang out with any group and blend in. I was an expert at instantly adopting the language, customs, values of any group I was in and could be accepted quickly as part of the group. In high school, I started smoking and drank with the druggie kids. I was in gifted academic programs and hung out with the smart kids, the girls who all looked and acted exactly like Tracy Flick in the movie, "Election." I was in drama club, key club, speech team. And I floated among disparate groups of people with ease.

When I came out at age 17, I started going out to the gay bars in Indianapolis, first hanging out on Monument Circle in downtown Indianapolis on the north steps, informally reserved for the gays who were cruising and hanging out. I remember one of my friends, Patrick, picked up a guy and was going to have sex with him at Union Station, before it was refurbished in the early nineties. It was a dump then and I followed him with a another guy in tow. Patrick and his friend climbed up some rickety stairs to get to a second level that was once the sleeping quarters for the train conductors and operators. For Patrick, it was a dark secluded place to suck someone off. I was waiting for Patrick with this guy I didn't know. I remember he was simply the most beautiful man I had ever met in my life. His name I am not so sure of....Steven Jones? I am pretty sure his last name was Jones. I still have the piece of paper that he wrote his telephone number on and gave to me. It was an awkward time waiting there. I wanted to kiss him but felt inferior to him. He was probably in his twenties, and looked a lot like Scott Baio--I swear! But smaller and skinnier. In my way of thinking, he was an adult and I was a child, a gangly, goofy looking child with frizzy dishwater hair. My striped Generra pants were a hair too short on my 34 inch legs. My arms were about as big around as my wrist is today. Patrick finally finished upstairs and we went back to the "Circle." I never got kissed and I never called the man.

How about a photo to break up this text? We are about 1/3 of the way through! I found this photo of Scott Baio on Flickr.com and this is how I remember that Steven Jones looked liked. I just learned that Scott lost his virginity to his "Joanie Loves Chachi" costar, Erin Moran. I hate her even more now that I know this.



That was such an awkward period in my life. I was so painfully shy and wouldn't talk to anyone. I felt like a sponge, just soaking up everything that was happening around me. I didn't understand why men called each other "girl." I couldn't seem to adopt the mannerisms that others had. I lacked the confidence my friends seemed to have. Where I ended up was as a messed-up kid trying to be everything to everybody. I feel like I lost my true self during that time and thought I had to act a certain way to be gay and be accepted. Honestly, I had never been all that interested in having sex with men. I remmember as a teenager that I just wanted to kiss and hug a man--that was my fantasy I held onto into adulthood. I had no concept of what sex with a man entailed. Most of the time, I just laid perfectly still, let a man do whatever he wanted to do to me, then I would reciprocate. There was never any feeling, never any passion. It was a mechanical act. I became a therapy junkie in my twenties, spending most of the time in therapy with a total of about four different counselors. I would bring up to them that I worried why I was never able to orgasm when I was with a man. Since this was the heyday of HMOs, they never really wanted to delve too deeply into this issue. Their answer was always the same, "When you meet someone that you trust and are comfortable with, I'm sure the problem will work itself out." One therapist gave me a little bit more insight, "If you sleep with strangers, how do you think you'll ever feel comfortable enough with them to reach orgasm? I think you hold back a piece of yourself from all these people, and you objectify that holding back by not being able to ejaculate in front of them." That made a hell of a lot of sense.

My problem has always been that I obtained great insight into myself and my behaviors but was never able to translate this insight into change. I kept doing the same things over and over again, kept choosing the same type of man to date and have sex with. And I remained dissatified with my life. Hmmm, I am thinking about this post, finally. It's a long one. Why did I start it? Okay, faith by fire. Being able to be myself no matter what. Today is Easter and reading over this post, I seem to be telling you about my own Resurrection. I was going to start telling you about the book I read in 1996, "Keeping the Love You Find" by Harville Hendrix. I believe this one book finally allowed me to put the pieces togther, take all that insight and put it to good use. I firmly believe had I not found this book, then entered a therapy model based on this book's teachings, I would never have met Reed. He is the embodiment of much of my learning over the past 12 years since reading that book for the first time.

But I think I have really rambled on long enough. Don't worry, I like to ramble, and I feel safer opening up in this blog. That was another point I made earlier in this post, that only a couple of people know about this blog. Reed asked me how I am going to get the word out about it. I hadn't really wanted other people to know about it, truly. But I think that comes from not wanting people to really know me. When I wrote the Sugar Babies entry, I thought, "Well, I can't send this to any male work friends or any straight guys I know from church or other groups I am in. They would be constantly freaked out about it--is he staring at me, is he thinking about having sex with me?!?" And I thought about some of my other friends, "Oh, she'd freak out if she read this blog. She thinks I am so nice and decent and well-adjusted." And therein lies the problem. I always feel like, even today, that I have to keep up a facade of some type: consumate professional; sweet, nice guy; good, dutiful son; moral, upstanding citizen.

I am all those things, and I am none of those things. Sometimes I want to scream at people I work with and fear it could come out at any moment; I scream at people in traffic, I roll my eyes and mutter like a crazy old man at stupid people at the grocery store who try to maneuver their shopping carts while holding a cell phone to their ear; I want to move far away from Indiana with Reed NEXT WEEK and find a job and new friends and not think about taking care of my parents when they need me most; I still run most every man I meet through a filter where I evaluate him physically and sexually; everyday, I have to tell myself how lucky I am to have Reed, that I would never do anything to hurt him or risk our relationship and the trust he has in me.

I want this last part, especially, to be easier and I beat myself up for why it is so difficult for me. This may very well be its own post. For those of you who watched the television show, Six Feet Under, do you remember the character of Nate's girlfriend, played by Rachel Griffiths? In one episode, she is giving a massage to a man (that's her business, being a massage thearpist), and the man gets an erection and says something about "taking care of it." She proceeds to give him a hand job until he orgasms. Then she just wipes her hand and dismisses him. For me, that was one of the most powerful moments in television and a moment I could relate to so much. I was not with Reed at the time, but I remember having such empathy for the character. She finally got a decent relationship with a man who supported her idiosyncracies and accepted her past, and she fucks it up. Why did she do that?? Why do any of us fuck up the good things in our lives? A great job and you start missing work or deadlines. A great friend and you betray a confidence. A great apartment and you stop paying the rent and get yourself evicted, even though you have plenty of money to pay the rent. I think this is a very powerful topic that should be explored in more depth and I welcome your comments about it.

God, I am getting tired of writing so much. And I want to watch one of the marathon episodes of America's Next Top Model with Reed, and find out if Natasha finally gets her thick-lipped, moon-faced, unibrowed Russian ass kicked off the show.

So I need to write a conclusion that is a few words less than what I have written so far. Oh, and I still have to paste in the damn email that sparked all this revelation tonight. Okay the email is just below. You can read it now or later, but I am going to refer to it now. I guess I felt the strong need to "stand up" for what I believe in. People are afraid to evangelize to people about their faith in God and/or Jesus. People are really afraid to tell people who they really are. To show their complete selves to those around them. If my mom were to read this post, at this point she'd say, "Yes, but why do YOU have to be the one to tell God and everyone who the hell you are??" You know, I have had many experiences in my life where I have shared painful, hidden things about myself only to discover others in the room shared my experiences.

I think any time, any of us feels compelled to share a part of ourselves with one person or a group of people--or for that matter, with the blogosphere!--the reason is becusae the Holy Spirit is calling them to do so. By doing so, they have a chance to make a difference in this world, to let people know that what they feel is normal, that what they are going through is normal and part of the greater human expeirence--after all, look at me! I went through this too.

I am still trying to figure out my place in the world. Damn that Oprah, she is making it so difficult to just coast through life. Now, I have think about "What was I put here to do? What is my purpose in life? How can I fulfill that purpose?" Fuck you, Oprah Winfrey! I for one happened to like being in the dark! I liked being purposeless and wandering. Of COURSE, I am kidding. But I don't see myself writing a book that will get named to Oprah's book club. But I suppose in this blog I am working through some of my issues, trying to figure out what this blog is supposed to be for, what should it achieve. I think I just have to respect my relationship with Reed--respect Reed, period. And not share intimate details of my relationship with Reed in order to make a point. Reed is very private, and I have the feeling his preference would be for me not to post some of the intimate details about my own life in this blog. I hope he understands that part of the reason for this blog may very well be for me to have the effect on the world that I feel called to have.

>>

This is a true story of something that happened just a
few years ago at USC.

There was a professor of philosophy there who was a
deeply committed atheist.

His primary goal for one required class was to spend
the entire semester to prove that God couldn't exist.

His students were always afraid to argue with him
because of his impeccable logic.

Sure, some had argued in class at times, but no one had
ever really gone against him because of his reputation.

At the end of every semester on the last day, he would
say to his class of 300 students, 'If there is anyone here who still
believes in Jesus, stand up!'

In twenty years, no one had ever stood up. They knew
what he was going to do next. He would say, 'Because anyone who
believes in God is a fool'.

If God existed, he could stop this piece of chalk from
hitting the ground and breaking Such a simple task to prove that He is
God, and yet He can't do it.'

And every year, he would drop the chalk onto the tile
floor of the classroom and it would shatter into a hundred pieces.

All of the students would do nothing but stop and
stare.

Most of the students thought that God couldn't exist.
Certainly, a number of Christians had slipped through, but! For 20
years, they had been too afraid to stand up.

Well, a few years ago there was a freshman who happened
to enroll.

He was a Christian, and had heard the stories about his
professor.

He was required to take the class for his major, and he
was afraid. But for three months that semester, he prayed every morning
that he would have the courage to stand up no matter what the professor
said, or what the class thought.

Nothing they said could ever shatter his faith...he
hoped.

Finally, the day came. ! The professor said, 'If there
is anyone here who still believes in God, stand up!' The professor and
the class of 300 people looked at him, shocked, as he stood up at the
back of the classroom.

The professor shouted, 'You FOOL!!!

If God existed, he would keep this piece of chalk from
breaking when it hit the ground!'

He proceeded to drop the chalk, but as he did, it
slipped out of his fingers, off his shirt cuff, onto the pleat of his
pants, down his leg, and off his shoe. As it hit the ground, it simply
rolled away unbroken. The professor's jaw dropped as he stared at the
chalk. He looked up at the young man, and then ran out of the lecture
hall.

The young man who had stood, proceeded to walk to the
front of the room and shared his faith in Jesus for the next half hour.
300 students stayed and listened as he told of God's love for them and
of His power through Jesus.

You have 2 choices:

1. Delete this and never look at it again.

2. Pass this along to your Christian and non-Christian
friends, giving them encouragement we all need every day

When you choose option 2, you have chosen to STAND UP

>>

Drew

Bush, Part 2

Well, shoot. I started this post and just lost everything I wrote. So to keep this short, because it is 3:25 in the morning: Bush is an idiot. I like making fun of him about his man-on-man sex tendencies but he is truly a freaking idiot. Remember the other war we are in? In Afghanistan? We started that war to capture Osama bin Laden, the cause of all the terrorism in the world and Brittany Spears. Then he fell off the radar as Bush orchestrated his move into Iraq, and most Americans were just like sheep to the slaughter. Except of course it wasn't our own slaughter. I recently heard this clip of Bush recently, blowing off Osama bin Laden, the cause of all the crap we are currently in. And Bush's retarded Beavis guffaw in the middle of this makes me want to scream. Who believes that Bush is anything more than a mediocre president? Really? Come on! History will not be kind to this man. I am just sick every time I think about where our society has sunk to under Bush's presidency. A fractured, pessimistic, angry group of people. We are better than this but have been trampled by a tide of flowing crap. So listen to this clip and tell me if you have a different opinion after hearing it:



We need to pray for our country, people. Easter is Sunday and we are in desperate need of a Resurrection!

Drew

P.S. The other thing I remember writing! If you already read my post about Bush's buddy sex relationships previously...please pop back down and see the addendum I posted. I found that freaking sound clip after what seemed like weeks of searching. I won't bore you with my drama getting it. All this stuff is teaching me so much about web publishing. It is far, far more complex and frustrating than I think most people realize. Props to the Clarian Web Team! Kaylene, Kathryn, Steven, and recently departed Gene--still alive but his last day was today.

Lottery Ideas

I was driving up Illinois St. after work the other day. I passed 16th Street and the Indiana Lottery billboard. Powerball was up to $250 million. Ouch. That got me thinking about what I would do with all that money. And I am sure I am just a-conversing in my car with myself. "There is no way on earth to spend that amount of money." I'd buy my parents a house, make sure they were taken care. And I always say this, as though I was being interviewed on the evening news about my windfall:

"What will you do with all that money??"

"Well, I plan to start a Foundation and to support all the great causes that are out there to help people."

"What kinds of causes might those be?"

"Let me put it to you this way. Anybody who wishes to defend the nation against right-wing nutjobs can apply for a grant to my foundation. I will support just about every left wing, liberal, bleeding heart organization that is out there. Let me give you money just so we can piss off George Bush and Karl Rove."

That's how it normally goes in my head. But then I had another idea. I thought about buying up billboards around the city--they are so goddamn expensive. And putting up just outrageous messages and then monitoring the fake web sites I would create that would have just an email function to see what kinds of crap people would send me. So I started a-thinking and a-thinking. And I came up with this idea:



And apologies to all my nursing friends who are trying to demolish that stereotype. Don't worry, no one reads this blog anyway. I have huge respect for nurses and what they do, kind of like Oprah has with teachers and mothers.

What would you do with a lottery windfall? Put your comment in the comment section below!

Sugar Babies

It is so strange how common items can transport you right into the middle of a long-ago memory. I stopped at the Safeway on Illinois St. to pick up two potatoes for dinner, as Reed said last night he wanted a baked potato tonight. I knows my mans and seeing as though he wants a bakked potato, I's better gets him a bakes potato.

But I digress. I bought an Easter egg filled with Sugar Babies candies. I had to turn my car off to use my keys to break open the plastic wrap. I was desperate for food at that moment. As soon as I started eating them, I remember spending summer days at the Knights of Columbus swimming pool as a kid. That was the one candy that I always got there. That and Milk Duds.



God help me if I had a bartender dressed up like this on Halloween. No wonder this lady only has ones in her grubby fist. First bring out the hot guy and make sure he's in a thong. And make sure you have plenty of that Malibu Rum back there. Dammit!

See, this is one of those times that I get nervous posting on a blog. But what fascinates me is how early on my personality and behaviors were ingrained in me. My favorite part of going to the pool was not seeing my friends or splashing in the pool. No, I know what I wanted. I hung around the locker room to see as much dick as I could take in. Now, having sniffed enough amyl nitrate in my lifetime to kill the brain cells of a small African country's entire population, I can tell you accurately that this is the same feeling I got when I spotted dick. I get light headed and euphoric, a little dizzy and weak at the knees. I suppose it's those brain chemicals pumping into my blood.

I was like that at age 8, age 13, 14, 15, 16 and 17. During those years,I had about one experience per year where I got to see some dick. I was like this through my twenties, thirties and I am like this today, at age 41. I have had this conversation with some of my gay male friends, and several of them can't believe I actually look when I am at a urinal. You betcha! These friends swear they don't look anywhere but down, at their own pee escaping down the drain. I don't know if this makes me strange, but man, if a straight guy got a chance to see a woman's breasts, I am sure he would do anything he needed to.

For example, straight guys: if you were in a dressing room shared by both sexes, and you looked at the half door across from you and saw a woman's bare shoulders, would not your first thought be, "She's not wearing a bra!!!!" And if you knew that you could discreetly look over the dressing room door to catch a peek at said breasts, would you not take that chance? See, I think this is a guy thing. Not all guys are wired this way, but I am and I think a lot of other guys are too, gay or straight.

And since it is also a thing about guys that they tend to be more visually oriented (i.e., porn addiction), here is something I found for the het men. Now what if you saw THESE bare shoulders?



So today, I had to be at work by 6AM to make copies of a flyer I needed to take to an event at 7AM. Afterward, I had a breakfast only a hospital can make. I have worked at hospitals my entire adult career. I love hospital cafeteria food. Scrambled eggs made from some non-egg mixture, crisp bacon and this potato stick thing. But as soon as I heard it was a potato thing, I ordered it. And a pint of chocolate milk. I was in heaven. And I also had to pee before driving back to the office.

So I stopped in the bathroom by the coffee stand. I grab one of the higher height urinals and let go. Shoot, all this reminds me of another post I need to do. My brain goes a mile a minute with thoughts that until this blog, I had no way of capturing. So I am at the urinal and a guy in scrubs goes to the urinal next to me. I recognized him from the lecture I was just at. Nothing spectacular, but a cute guy. The partition between us, which hit me just below my shoulder, was no match for me.

Maybe this is how I AM different from other guys. Instead of being discreet, like the straight guy in my dressing room example above, I get determined to get a peek no matter what. As you can imagine, I have many less-than-discreet moves and techniques I use. Today, I determined that the height of the urinal was not so high that I couldn't visually scale it. So I did my "Oh yeah, I am so freaking big that I have flip it off my shoulder to get the last dribble out" manuever. This involves moving forward on the balls of my feet, shaking my right arm to replicate the shaking motion all guys do at the end, and then finally, lifting up about six inches or more and using my God-given gift of keen peripheral vision.

And there I am. Again. In the men's changing room at the Knights of Columbus pool on the hottest day in July, 1977. Since I know my sweetie is reading this and will be thinking, "Oh my god, is there nothing he won't say??" I am going to actually show some decorum and not describe the sight I saw. Again, nothing spectacular. And nevertheless, still stunning and speech-robbing. It was a dick.

Drew

Straight men: post your comments! What would you do if you had the chance to sneak a peek at a topless woman in a dressing room? Would you do it or keep your head and eyes down?

French Kissing John McCain

One of the things that has really irked me about the presidential campaign so far (and one that my favorite talk radio host, Rachel Maddow, has pointed out) is how the national, mainstream media is having such a love fest with John McCain, giving him a free pass without doing any unbiased reporting when it comes to him. Meanwhile, the Democrats are getting the brunt of these journalists having so much time on their hands, since they can't be bothered to touch John McCain. Case in point, all the coverage of Obama's endorsement from his pastor and Lewis Farrakhan. Did anyone notice, especially in the media, that John McCain got an endorsement last week John Hagee, the wingnut freak who said the Katrina disaster was New Orleans own fault since they had a gay pride parade. And who rants against Catholics. Read more about Rev. Hagee here in this Wikipedia entry that pretty much covers his homophobia, antisemitism, anti-Catholicism, etc .

My point again is why was the national media so silent about this, or any of the other landmines in the past weeks related to John McCain. The New York Times did a great disservice to us when they led their article about John McCain's continuation of his history of corruption and bribery not with factual data about the influence of lobbyists on McCain but on a salacious, ill-proven assertion about an extramarital affairs with such a lobbyist.

The true story here is that this lobbyist actually worked for Paxson Communications. Paxson donated large sums of money to McCain's campaign, flew him around the world in their private yet. Now here is where the bribery comes in: in return for all this, they asked John McCain to intercede for them with the FCC (which falls under his scope as chairman of the commerce committee). McCain wrote such a letter demanding that the FCC speed up its decision as to whether Paxson could purchase a Pittsburgh television station. And soon after, the FCC ruled in Paxon's favor.

For an excellent article related to McCain and his history of corruption, even as he basks in the glow of the "straight shooter" persona, see this essay.

In case you need some evidence of my belief that the national media is giving John McCain a hand job under the sheets, take a gander at this video blog that McCain's daughter, Meghan, posted to YouTube, about the big ole country BBQ the McCain family hosted at their Sedona, AZ cabin for all the members of the national media. I remember that basic lesson in my journalism ethics class back in, gosh, I am straining here....1986...oh gosh, another memory popped out of the gray matter! With Professor Caroline Dow. I loved that woman! Anywho, I remember when these were called "press junkets" and participating would undoubtedly call into question your journalistic integrity and strip you of the veil of unbiasedness that the press must maintain at all costs. So much for that ideal in 2008!



Post your comments! Why do you think the national media is stroking John McCain's saggy, old man backside?

March 14 is Pi Day!

Finally, I have something besides politics to write about! Reed is in the kitchen finishing up a chocolate candy crunch (Heath bars) pie for work tomorrow. Most of you know that he is an electrical engineer. So his company's fun committee decided to celebrate Pi Day by having a Pie day. Get it? Do you get it? Did you get it?

Well, I just love my little engineer! He instructed me not to make fun of him in my blog entry. But I am serious, if you are in love with an engineer, why wouldn't you find having a Pie Day on Pi Day the most adorable thing in the world?? And I am not in the la-la stage of love....we've been together five years this May, and I still find him as adorable as when I first met him.

He invited me into the kitchen to lick the bowl. I was in heaven. He reminded me of the time we had dinner with our friends David and John and went to Houlihan's afterward for dessert. He and I shared this candy ice cream sundae that was beyond words, it was that good. Weeks or months later, we were in the car talking, or we might have been with friends, and I recounted the time I had this awesome ice cream sundae that had pieces of candy in it. Reed turned to me and reminded me that we were together and both shared that sundae. Today, whenever I am in ecstasy from some food item, he'll say, "Are you going to remember that I was here later?"

I love realizing all the ways we are different and how certain circumstances show our differences. He just yelled from the kitchen that he forgot to put the chocolate on the top of the pie, he was supposed to melt a piece of chocolate and drizzle it over the pie. I told him to just drizzle the chocolate syrup we have in the refrigerator. He responded, "Yeah, no. I think I'll do it the way they say to do it." The difference: he would be a technically perfect cook, and I would be the one....oh, I am the one...who can't remember how he put a dish together. The most valuable thing we've both learned is that being different from each other is normal, and it doesn't make the other person a freak. That has been hard for me to grasp. The fact that I am such a bad housekeeper and disorganized -- and that Reed is such a good housekeeper and so very organized -- still makes me feel like I am a rotten person and a worse boyfriend. I am constantly being reminded by friends that I am just wired differently, that's all. Yeah, wired to be a freak.

That reminds me, I am reading this book called "Conversations with God." My friend Anne lent it to me. Many of the messages are similar to The Secret, which I have not actually read or watched yet. But if you watch Oprah enough, you get the gist of The Secret pretty quickly. But the message for me is to not say those things about myself. The book says we are not discovering each new day but creating each new day. And your thoughts and words affect the outcome of your reality. Just call me New Age Ned. :)

The weird part of this story, which also personifies me, is the fact that I discovered--as I was doing my Indiana taxes and had to list all my out of state purchases that I did not pay sales tax on (all basically from Amazon.com!)--that I had, in fact, bought this very book last May. But I have no recollection of ever receiving it, and I remember the other books and CDs I got in that same shipment. And this book is no where to be found in our house. And before Anne told me about the book, I don't recall every hearing about it. So how and why did I make that purchase last May and where the hell is that book anyway? I mean, I went to Amazon.com to look up the book to buy it, then went to Half-Price Books and was ready to buy one of the three books in the series, all this before I found out I had ordered it previously. It's disconcerting to not have any memory at all of my previous affinity for this book.

Okay, I need to work on some work stuff. I hate doing conference reports! I have one from a meeting on Monday or Tuesday that I still need to do. Or maybe it was from last week. Anyway, I need to make edits to a communication plan I did and shared with the client. They tore it apart by wordsmithing it to death. I tried to tell them that none of these words would appear in print anywhere, that this plan was just to guide the process. But still they edited! Plus I am trying to get that clip of George Bush I mentioned yesterday. I will get it for you! I swear!

Drew

PS: Meanwile, I found these photos on flickr so Pie Day exists elsewhere! And this let's me work on my HTML skills! My mad HTML skills!

Bush: "A gay??"

Well, I am still searching for a clip I heard last week on the Rachel Maddow radio program on Air America, with Bushie talking about mountain biking with Finnish prime minister, Matti Vanhanen and commented on what great condition he is in.

ADDENDUM-MARCH 21, 2008: I hope you all appreciate what I went through to get this sound clip. It helped when I realized it was not the prime minister of Finland but rather of Denmark. I think once you hear it you will agree it was well worth it. God bless Reed, he is so freaking smart in so many ways. He is the one who advised me to get the file from iTunes (I already had it there since I put this Rachel Maddow show on my iPod. I then opened it in Audacity and after about three hours tonight, I figured out the best way to splice it together from the overall show. I may not have done it the technically correct way, but I got the job done. I ended up just deleting all the parts from the original show until I just had Bush speaking, resaved it as an Audacity project, then saved as a WAV file for posterity, then as an mp3 file to post here. Now I just have to figure out how to get this mp3 file on the blog. Let's try it now!



Okay, after finding photos of this guy, Anders Fogh Rasmussen, I have to admit that Bushie has pretty good taste in men. He doesn't compare to my Reedie of course, but for Bush, he seems to be a suitably hot older guy for Georgie to test out his burgeoning curiosity about man on man sex. What do you think? Hot....or not?

Looking very much like the spitting image of Eric Roberts (Julia's older brother)


And perhaps my all-time favorite photo of Andy (as I will call him!) Daddy!!


And I guess it would be a sad day for any straight, "straight" man when you Google yourself, typing in "Bush is gay" and not only do many sites come up, but the first site that comes up looks something like this.



ADDENDUM END.

This is just one example of the homoerotic tendencies of George Bush. Call it what you will, but George Bush is a bit on the nelly side when it comes to his man-to-man relationships. So I think a new focus of this blog will be to post such odd encounters I find. Below is one that is obviously retouched but still pretty funny, a conversation between Bush and Japanese Prime Minister Junichiro Koizumi. And what is truly creepy is that while the dialogue has been spliced together, it's not beyond the realm of possibilities of what President Bush might actually say. Enjoy!



Drew

John McCain's idiotic ways

I am still learning all the tricks of blogs. I would like to insert a You Tube video here and so will try now.



This is just one example of why I hate John McCain. Plus, Bush's laugh drives me nuts--heheheheheh--like an overgrown, retarded Beavis...or Butthead. If I have to listen to McCain's creepy laugh for four years, to say nothing of living with his war mongering ways, like every good liberal, I'd have to move to Canada. Let me post this now to see if it works. If it does, I am searching for a radio clip of Bush extolling on his relationship with the Finnish prime minister--it's a gayfest of gaylarity!

Andre the Muslim

I find it immensely interesting that the national media has been so rabid about perpetuating the false rumor that Barack Obama is a Muslim. Then in good ole boy Indianapolis, the local newspaper so casually mentions that the winner of the Congressional 7th District special election was Andre Carson. And that he will be only the second Muslim nationally to serve in Congress--and Indiana's first Muslim to represent us in Congress.

I am bitter of course that Jon Elrod didn't win. And does it matter an iota that Carson is a Muslim? Of course not. But I think it's painfully obvious that Carson's campaign did whatever needed to be done to hide this fact. I wonder how many of his supporters would have been as insanely pro-Carson had they known this fact.

ADDENDUM (March 11, 2008, 7:57 PM) Over dinner, Reed told me that the fact that Carson is a Muslim had been reported by the Star during the campaign. I supposed I should offer some kind of retraction. But in my way of thinking, if I didn't know about it until this morning, then probalby most people didn't know it either. I guess I will admit that probably Carson's campaign didn't hide this fact. END OF ADDENDUM.

I guess this is what politics is all about, presenting as risk-free and sanitized package as possible to voters.

At this point, I think we all have to give Carson the benefit of the doubt that he will represent Indiana well in the national spotlight. I hope at the very least residents of the 7th District will wake the eff up and take notice of how their politicians are doing. Don't get me started about Dan Burton and the eff-tards in Indiana's 5th District who keep electing him to Congress.

Respectfully,

Drew

P.S. for my web colleague: Andre Carson is a Muslim!

Recipes

One thing I will likely do from time to time in this blog is share some recipes I have created. Reed hates it when I make something really good, and I don't write down how I made it. We have many, many "originals" that will never be made again. So tonight, I was running late from the office as usual. I had planned to make a meatloaf. A loaf of meat. Ummm. I got home at 7:10 and Reed was supposed to be home from the gym at 7:30. So I decided to make something from the leftover meat from a beef roast I made on Sunday. I had wanted to try to make beef stroganoff with it but all the recipes I found online made it sound so bland. People have talked about making beef....oh god, I can't even spell it. Or say it for that matter! Old age sucks :) Okay, I think it's beef burgundy but I was trying to think of the French name for it. Let me try Wikipedia.

Geez, God Bless Wikipedia! I really mean it! It's Beef Bourguignon. I still don't really know how to pronounce it. Bore-gen-yown (yown rhymes with known). Is this the type of blog people hate to read?? I would, I think, if I weren't the one writing it. Blah, blah blah. Okay, here is the freaking recipe already!

Beef Burgundy Stroganoff

Left over beef roast, cut into 2-3 inches strips

1 can cream of mushroom soup (98% fat free)

2 cups fat free sour cream or fat free plain yogurt

1/2 cup dry red wine like Burgundy (I used Cabernet Sauvignon...Ha! rhymes with Bourguignon!)

1 packet dry onion soup mix

Sprinkle of nutmeg

4 cups cooked, whole wheat egg noodles


Mix first six ingredients together in large saucepan over medium low heat until heated through. Mix in cooked noodles, heat through and serve.
________________________

Okay, onto my rant. I got on the gayindy.org list serve and took notice of the conversation. Some freak posted that she was sure that Jon Elrod is gay. No evidence whatsoever to support this. The underlying belief is that he is in the closet and should not be. I could have seen this coming. First off, we all know that the stupid gay community thinks everyone is gay if they dress nice and are hot. Tom Cruise, Tom Selleck, I can't think of others because all my brain cells went to getting Beef Bourguignon. But there are many others. Then, he is gay friendly, unmarried, kinda soft spoken. It was this wench's "hunch" that Jon Elrod was gay.

Well, you know what? I have a hunch too. I think that Andre Carson is one of those big black men who is scared to death that nelly gay boys are looking at his big round ass walking down the street, and that he is essentially a big homophobe. I have no evidence of this. But I choose to believe it nevertheless.

(Sorry, an aside--my all-time favorite Dilbert strip, and I repeat it way too often (I tried to find it online but only spent a few minutes looking and came up with nothing ADDENDUM, 3-7-08 spent more time at work trying to find the strip but at least got a better handle on the dialogue): Dilbert is on a date. The woman says "I hold the point of view that crystals can heal." Next panel "I have no scientific evidence to support this but I choose to believe it anyway." Last panel, Dilbert answers and his date steams: "Since when is ignorance a point of view?" Even better than what I remembered. If I find it in one of my Dilbert books this weekend I will scan it for posterity.

Before I continue on the above topic, I don't want to forget to commit this letter to the editor in the Star's 3-5-08 issue to the permanence of the Internet:

http://www.indystar.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?aid=/20080305/opinion01/803050382/1031/opinion01&GID=wziZr2KtbSsjHZzP4sjgLh0FA4TKW+QvN9+//n5KsCo%3D

And pasted in below (is this illegal?)

Secret taping hurts Carson but bolsters Elrod

In response to Edwin Locke's Feb. 28 letter: The New England Patriots became the NFL's least-trusted football team in the 2007 season after they were caught secretly videotaping the New York Jets. Likewise, Andre Carson's campaign was involved in secretly videotaping Jon Elrod on the state legislative floor in early February.

Carson's campaign used the videotape to question Elrod's judgment for signing campaign letters then turning them over to a legislative employee to put in the mail. It's easy to understand Elrod's mistake. Rarely, if ever, has an Indiana state representative run for Congress while the legislature was still in session. This year's session ends three days after the March 11 special election. Elrod was signing letters in a public place in clear public view, was honest about what happened and said he'd never do it again.

This videotaping incident actually reflects worse on Andre Carson, whose supporters were conspiring for political gain.

I want a congressman I can trust and Jon Elrod is a man who will always be upfront with the voters.

Bob Demaree
Indianapolis

>>

Amen to that! I especially liked the last sentence. I truly believe Elrod to be an up-front kind of guy, principled, moral. Even though I have no evidence to support this. It's true, this is my own intuition. Same with Andre Carson. I don't trust him. And the Indianapolis gay community seems to be ga-ga over him just because he is Julia Carson's grandson. While she was a true advocate for the gay community, I had my own issues with her as our representative--for all of the 7th district, not just the gays. Legacies might work in fraternities and sororities, but I don't think they have any place in politics.

So these dimwitted gays who are speculating about Jon Elrod's sexual orientation. Who the eff really cares? He supports the rights of gay people to live in peace, and yet we can't afford him the same courtesy? I can't figure out why this is fascinating for these folks. A Republican who is gay friendly? Unacceptable? Is that why we're attacking him? I really want to tell my gay brothers and sisters to get your head out of your collective gay asses and maybe, for once, vote for a candidate who is good for all people and vote for Jon Elrod. And don't fall lockstep in line with whatever candidate the Democrats hand us. Please be at least marginally discriminating with your vote.

Finally, I have to say I am pleased with myself for not extending a recipe metaphor throughout this post, like "Andre Carson, a recipe for disaster!" or "Jon Elrod offers a recipe for success for the 7th district!" It could have very easily happened.

Pray for peace everyone.

Drew

Back, in a political fray

It's been a while since I have posted. This is my problem with anything to do with the web. Actually, it's a more global problem. I kept a journal for years then looked back and saw that months would go by between entries. I am not good at keeping up with family, friends, blog entries, posts to MySpace pages, listening to voice mail messages, opening my mail, filing, etc., etc.

But two web colleagues at work suggested I write a blog, and it's such a good idea that I had already started a blog almost a year before. But I am worried about my predilection to diarrhea of the mouth, and this would cause me to get fired. But then one colleague just suggested that I not put my name on the blog, so problem solved.

I have a lot to write about. This is the first presidential election that I have gotten really into since turning 18 and able to vote. I know that everyone will start asking what the title of my blog means, Hat Trick, all three of you out there reading this. I came up with this name as a possible title for that column that I would start writing that would be syndicated nationally. Ha!

Hat trick is a phenomenon I coined when I was a bar fly. I'd go to the bars (and this phenomenon applies to straight guys too, I am sure) and see a guy with a baseball cap on. I'd think, "Man, he's hot!" Then he'd take the hat off and he really looked more like a monkey troll with a huge round, Charlie Brown head, scraggly hair sticking up, and, well, just not hot. So I called this the hat trick. Ugly or average looking guys could get dates and casual sex if they just wore the right hat and kept it on all night, until they were naked in bed with their intended, and it's too late for your partner to run away. They are ensnared in your hat trick!

Well, I came up with this years and years ago. Now, I am no longer single so it doesn't (shouldn't) matter to me so much. But over the years, the idea of the hat trick picked up different meanings for me. Like, anyone who can appear to be one thing and turn out to be something else entirely. This applies to politicians a lot.

Oh, I guess here I should officially endorse my choice for congressman from the 7th Indiana district, previously held by the grand dame of Indiana politics, Julia Carson, until her death last year. I, like many faithful Indiana Democrats, probably have voted for Dick Lugar many times for US Senator. That's a gimme in my way of thinking. But now, I am making a big life choice of biblical proportions. I am ready to vote for a Republican that is not Dick Lugar. It's Jon Elrod.

My partner and I saw him at a candidate forum at Jesus Metropolitan Community Church (Jesus MCC) and I left the forum with my head spinning: "I just can't vote for a Republican, I just can't!" But I'm gonna! He impressed me so much, and I think I realized for the first time that the purest tenets of Republicans are something I believe in too: less government, fair taxes, etc.

He comes across as one of the most principled politicians I have ever met. This forum was essentially a rapid lovefest for Andre Carson, Julia Carson's grandson, who seeks to fill her seat and continue her legacy as an advocate for the oppressed. It was a mad, mad, mad, liberal orgy of Democratic ideals. So when Jon Elrod simply stated that he was definitely pro-life to the inevitable prolife-prochoice question, I gave him huge props. I mean, for those who say they are pro-choice--I really want to ask, "Are you not also pro-life? Are you really in favor of killing as many fetuses as possible?" C'mon! Who isn't pro-life? And who doesn't want better options for women than abortion?

Another thing that impressed me about Jon Elrod is that he didn't just give answers off the cuff like Andre Carson: "Absolutely! No question! I would support that!" Jon Elrod would sit back a bit, put his hand on his chin, and reflectively answer, "This is a tough issue" and either say, "I'm not ready to answer that yet" or "Here is why I have the position that I do."

And yes, I support him for all the gay reasons: He is against the marriage amendment to the Indiana constitution, bucking against the party line and leaders; plus, yes, I don't mind saying this is my second reason: he is cute as a freaking button. Like falling in love with Peter Brady on the Brady Bunch when I was nine years old. Normally, after events like this, I head out the door as soon as possible, to get out before the traffic starts plus I don't like mingling. But I went up and shook Jon Elrod's hand and told him just how impressed I was with him. And yes, I admit it, I got to see him up close and yes, ladies, he is as cute as he looked from the 17th row. Much shorter than me, I'd say he's about 5'7" or so.

But in all seriousness, if you are a knee-jerk Democrat who will vote for Andre Carson only because he's the Democrat on the ticket, please, please, please consider exploring Jon Elrod more. His web site is www.jonelrod.com. On March 11, at the special election to fill Julia Carson's congressional seat, please consider giving your vote to Jon Elrod.

Okay, my lunch break is long over. I do love to write and will try to keep up on this blog as best I can. I will write more about Jon Elrod, John McCain, Barack Obama, my stalking kind of love for Air America radio host, Rachel Maddow, who has singlehandedly sparked my interest in politics and social activism. Find out more at maddowonline.com.

Be safe and keep the peace.