Awwww ...

So yesterday The Hellcat and I put a traveling outfit on the dog and brought him down to the Petco at Union Square. Our mission: To meet The Dog Whisperer. I have no idea why I'm fascinated by this show but I do love it. In any case, the line wasn't too bad. About 40 minutes, and full of dog people eager to talk about, well, their dogs. We only got to say hello and get an autograph and snap a picture. But it did get me out of the house. In keeping with that theme, tonight I'm planning to attend a house party with The Ex and some others, followed by some bar hopping in the East Village. Should be interesting.

Unexpected Side Effects

So I intended to raid the cookie jar tonight and go out for a cocktail or ten. Of course, here I find myself at 1:30 am watching the positively heinous re-make of Cheaper By The Dozen. I can't seem to get the enthusiasm up to make "the scene". Not that anything's horribly wrong. Quite the opposite, in fact. I had a pretty uneventful afternoon followed by a very aggressive work-out. My titties are huge! Just kidding. I am trying to live on the cheap and I've been stretching $300 out since just before Christmas. I still have about 50 bucks left. I've applied for unemployment, intending to take some time off before I re-group and find a new job. Unfortunately, there has been some sort of delay. My unemployment payments are "pending". Four weeks late. Should make for a helluva first check once it finally comes. I have "plenty" of money for now so no worries. Finally, my ability to live the life of a pauper has an up-side.

I've been meaning to tell you about some unexpected side effects of going on the HIV meds. Aside from the bad parts, where my brains briefly scrambled and I thought I might not ever get off the toilet, some unexpectedly good things happened. Long time readers of this blog will remember my lamenting how utterly and extremely gassy I had become. I'd link to it but I'm way too lazy. Trust, it was epic. Seriously. As in, no man would ever have me gassy. I un-ashamedly discussed it with two different nutritionists, so distressed was I by the thunderous and unrelenting levels of gas I was manifesting. Curiously, now that my viral load is almost under control the unrelenting and unimaginable level of gas I was manufacturing has dissipated like so much, well, gas. Do I know for a fact that the extreme farting was caused by the HIV? All I know is two full years (at least) of unstoppable farting has stopped. You tell me.

In addition, a series of dental visits confirmed what I already knew. My gums were seriously fucked. Not that my oral hygiene wasn't good. While I've never been much of a flosser I brush two, three or more times a day. But the last few years every time I brushed my teeth I bled. Sometimes a bit, sometimes rivers of blood would pour from my gums. It got so bad I would leave flecks of blood on a banana when I ate. The dentist I was seeing recommended a procedure where they lift your gums up and scrape out the gunk underneath and then re-attach your gums. The dental-phobe in me was horrified. But I had begun to mentally prepare for the procedure. Curiously again, I noticed about two weeks ago that the bleeding has stopped. I can and have really scrubbed at my brushing, just to see what would happen. Nothing, Not even a bit of pink. It's been that way for a few weeks now. Do I know for a fact that my viral load was causing an infection in my gums? No. But I know for sure that since bringing my viral load under control, the daily bleeding from my gums has stopped. You tell me.

Since I'm confessing all my unattractive flaws anyway, (but doing it in the name of science) the last thing I want to tell about is athlete's foot. I've had it off and on for years. Way before my seroconversion. I love that word, it sounds like I've joined a church. I know that athlete's foot is caused by a fungus, and I seemed like a pretty accommodating host. I would catch it pretty easily, as I never bothered with that gym/sandal nonsense. It wasn't until I went on the multi-vitamin extra C regimen from when I was first diagnosed that I noticed that the condition had cleared. And it hasn't come back in a couple of years. So I conclude that either the fungus was able to thrive because of a vitamin deficiency in me, or athlete's foot and HIV don't mix. I suspect it's the former but if it turns out the latter is the case, I don't recommend the cure.

These are strictly my own experiences and are based on cause and effect. Anyone else have some unexpected results? I'd love to hear.

This Ought to Be Good ...

D**,

I'm going to be sending in the renewal for the lease on the apartment either this week or next. I'm not sure if the landlord will agree to it, but I need to know if you would like me to try to have your name added to the lease. I don't want to commit my name to an entire year. This way, you could keep the apartment should I decide to move out.

Tom

Update

The joke's on me, he doesn't give a shit:

Yes I would love that. I don't think that would be much of a problem since the landlord knows I've been there for six years. About the deposit, I'll have what ever share you would need from me next week too. Talk to you more when I get home, new Smallville on tonight :)

D**

From The Dept. Of WTF????

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This Needs To Be Seen

Gene Shalit's uber-gay son leaps to his Dad's defense. I admit, I spied the review of Broke-fucking-back Mountain with raised eyebrows. But after re-reading it I just wasn't seeing the blatant homophobia others claimed. It seemed to me the man was being villified simply for having an unpopular opinion. One that our Gay Overloads deemed unacceptable.

The full text of Peter Shalit's letter to GLAAD follows: -via The Advocate

Dear Damon, and Neil,

Peter Shalit here—Gene Shalit's son. I have been a member-supporter of GLAAD for years. I assume you were not aware of that, but I am disappointed that you did not do a little background research on my dad, or try to contact me, or attempt to reach my dad through me, before issuing your press release this past week calling him homophobic because of his review of Brokeback Mountain. I did notice the "editor's note" which mentioned that he has a gay son, i.e. myself.

By way of background, I am a gay man, a physician, serving a mostly gay patient population in Seattle, and author of Living Well, the Gay Men's Essential Health Guide, which is a guide to gay health for gay men. I frequently comment to people that I can't imagine having another job that would immerse me in the gay community as much as the one I have. The gay community is my life.

I say this because it's important background for understanding that my dad has always been completely loving and supportive of me, my life, my partners, and my choices. He wrote a piece about me in 1997 for The Advocate (currently posted on their home page)—and agreed to have his picture on the cover of the magazine—because what the piece says is true about how he feels and how he has always acted.

I spoke with my dad yesterday about the issues with his review. He had no idea that his review of a movie, and his reaction to a particular character, would be seen as homophobia. Of course he is not homophobic. Actually the truth is the opposite. Agreed, he didn't particularly seem to like Brokeback Mountain, and he found the character of Jack unsympathetic. But his negative response to a particular character is not "defamation" and had nothing to do with the sexual orientation of the character. The interpretation-generalization of this as "homophobic" is unfortunate and incorrect. It is precisely because my Dad is not homophobic that he felt free to criticize the movie as he saw it, and not anticipate that he would be accused of homophobia for doing so.

(Incidentally, I loved the movie—and it sure isn't the first time I have disagreed with my dad about one of his reviews. I was sorry he didn't like it, but hey, these things happen. I have always felt that he was entitled to his opinion and I leave it at that.)

When I first saw your press release a few days ago my reaction was "goodness, this is silly" and I decided to sit tight and hope it would blow over. But it hasn't, judging by the e-mails I have received from friends, and the buzz I have seen online. People are concerned about these accusations about my dad, and some bloggers are talking about him as if he is an enemy of gay people. I decided to contact you because there could have been better ways to handle this situation, and I am hurt by your mischaracterization of my father, a man who does not have a molecule of hate in his being. It does not speak well for GLAAD, and it is not helping our community.

We are all really on the same side—you, my Dad, me, my family, our community. The gay community has enough enemies that we should not be attacking or alienating those who, such as my Dad, are part of our family and are our true friends. We may disagree with his opinion of a movie and his interpretation of a particular character, but that is his job as a critic to give his opinion. He may have had an unpopular opinion of a movie that is important to the gay community, but he defamed no one, and he is not a homophobe. It is you who have defamed a good man, by falsely accusing him of a repellent form of bigotry. It is ironic and sad that an organization whose mission is to combat defamation has committed such an act itself, an act which amounts to character assassination with so little consideration of the repercussions.

I am happy to discuss this further with you by e-mail, or you can feel free to phone me...

Sincerely, Peter Shalit

ALSO-

I don't watch any TV shows religiously right now, but I have caught and enjoyed Desperate Houswives (sorry, I couldn't resist). Luckily, I was watching last night. I was delighted and admittedly shocked at how matter-of-fact and in-your-face they treated what could have been seen as an explosive storyline. Well done. For an absolute blow-by-implied-blow re-cap, hop on over to Queer Day Magazine. I'll just re-print pix of the pretty boys.

Just So You Know ...

I recently purchased all three Lord of the Rings movies. I missed them in the theater and I had barely heard of the books as a youngster. Needless to say I hadn't read them. Inexplicably, I've attempted three times now to start watching them in order. I was fully prepared given the hoopla surrounding the films to have to force myself to quit watching at some point and break it up in installments of, say, at least three. All three attempts has sent me rushing headlong into the arms of Morpheus. At this point you only need to say the word "hobbit" and I feel my head getting droopy.

The new year is only a week old. I've made it to the gym three-and-a-half times so far. A very good start to my unspoken resolution to get back in top shape. The half workout? That was the day I went to the gym and got distracted ... um ... doing ... something and ended up just completing a 1/2 hour of cardio.

My doctor prescibed a new vitamin therapy as well as a daily protein supplement. Not that there was anything wrong with me or my diet but more, I suspect, simply that New York State has agreed to pay for it. Among many many other things my new vita-pack contains 750% USRDA of Vitamin C, 600% RDA Vitamin E and 150% RDA Vitamin E. My pee is now a most delightful and mildly startling color of bright canary yellow.

Yesterday I ...

Did all my laundry.

Finished this book. Loved it, hated the ending.

Watched two movies. One of them being Marvin's Room. I'd forgotten what a great movie that is.

Paid the bills.

I did not, however...

Pick up my new printer.

Shower.

Oh well, there's always tomorrow.

Ooooh, Grrrrrl!

So I haven't seen that much of The Ex lately. He was traveling quite a bit in December and then I was away for a week. Last night he came home from work and was tired and went straight to his room. I was on the couch with the dog, admittedly where I had been for hours. I started beating myself up for wasting the day away until I reminded myself that everyone does it from time to time. In any case, after a couple of hours he popped up and wandered out to the living room, apparently to see what I was watching on TV. I don't know why. But he was only wearing a pair of underwear. Homegirl has put on some weight! I'm not sayin she's ginormous but I would definitely say she got gut. Now I know I'm obsessed with my own body and I see fat where no fat actually be but damn girl, back away from the beer and bread! *Snicker*

I'm off to do a big load (tee hee) of laundry and pick up a new photo printer that mom and dad got me for Christmas.

Here's a picture of what will happen should The Gays get the right to marry:

-via How does one deal?

Your Resolution Is Fucking Annoying

Oh my god! Remind me to hit the gym during the day for a few weeks. I was ready for it and it was still surprising. Every year, all the people that have decided to lose 20 pounds (again) descend on gyms all across the country. You can easily pick them out because a) you've never seen them in the last year, and b) they always have brand new (matching) gym outfits. Literally. They have outfits. The result? The gym was packed during prime time. There were lines for everything. All the cardio machines had people waiting at least one deep. There was a line for the showers and the Sauna Queens were in a veritable frenzy. I swear, it was all I could do to jerk off with the hot man with the hairy chest. What? Ah well, it should only be a month or so before everyone's resolutions fall by the wayside and all the people that I've been working out with all last year will be left.

Speaking of resolutions, The New York Post is reporting that January is the busiest month in terms of call volume for divorce lawyers. Apparently, along with 20 pounds of thigh, some people are looking to lose 170 lbs of fathead.

Speaking of reporting, Time Magazine is reporting on an organization out of Los Angeles called InSPOTLA. They are offering free E-cards that can be mailed (anonymously if you wish) to whomever you choose on the chance you test HIV+ or contract another STD. "Hey guy on 12th St. with the enormous cock and horrible taste in bedding, good news! I got gonorrhea. Make a clinic appointment and have a great day!"

Speaking of HIV, The LA Times is reporting on a new trend that's popping up at various circuit events and baths across the country. "Taking a T" refers to the taking of tenofovir, a drug that may or may not prevent the transmission of HIV in people who have unprotected sex. Typically, the powers that be in San Francisco are opposed to studies testing the effectiveness of this practice. I remain undecided, but lean towards, hey, if it works ....

Same Shit, Different Year

How did I celebrate this year? I dis-invited myself to a New Year's Eve party and instead stayed home. I left it to The Hellcat, his boyfriend, The Ex, his ex and assorted other people I didn't care to know or feign interest in. I avoided New Year's Rockin' Eve with Dick (Dawn of the Dead) Clark and switched off MTV's coverage of the festivities as well. I did get to a whole new level of X-Men 2, so the night wasn't a total wash out.

For a couple of days, I intended to attend. But something happened while I was visiting my family. A conversation I had with my father. He inadvertantly showed me something I didn't really want to see. To him, I'm sure it was a minor story. We were discussing character traits and how difficult it can be living with another person. Apparently, my need (desire, obsession, you pick) for an orderly house is another inherited trait. I saw lots of them during my visit in both my parents. He told me about how he would spend a few minutes on any given day cleaning up the kitchen. Part of that entailed wiping the bread crumbs and food from the kitchen counter. Only to have my mother come through less than five minutes later and leave a counter full of bread crumbs behind as she fixed herself a snack or some lunch. As if he didn't matter. Or wasn't there. Although I'm not sure that's how he felt about it. Now I'm projecting. What he did say was that after 50 years of marriage he had learned to put up with it. It was the way it was.

I totally understood him and slightly admired his "Zen" approach. I was also quite horrified. I may not have a clue how I want to live the next part of my life. But I know for absolute certainty I have no desire to clean the bread crumbs off the counter for the next 50 years. In other words, I don't want to live with these people anymore. I can't care for them and they obviously don't care for me. The difference now? I've given up trying. So I felt it would be hypocritical to spend the last night/first day of the new year sharing a dinner table and attending a party with them. I'd rather be alone. 'Cause I'd rather be alone. Everything that I can't stand about the both of them is magnified when we're all off and together. I didn't truly relax until everyone said goodnight for the night and left me alone with The X-Men and The Hellcat's dog.

On New Year's Day I more or less barricaded myself in my bedroom. I watched TV and read a book. Late in the afternoon I went to the gym. Did some cardio and about 20 minutes of weight training. I wanted to make at least one healthy choice for myself for the new year to start things off right. Today I'll make it a longer work out. Tomorrow, my search for a new life begins.

Here's some retardedly cool video. - via Trusty Sidekicks