Category Archives: The Basics

I woke up early this morning.  The cat was curled up at the foot foot the bed and Ray was still sound asleep.  It was pitch black outside and quite cold inside so I just curled up into a big ball under the covers. 

My mind wandered off way back to the day Ray called me and asked if I wanted to go to dinner.  We had known each other casually for a couple of years and he was moving to Chicago from LA.  He was going through his phone book, taking friends out to dinner one by one so he could devote his full attention to them as opposed to a big drunken going away party.

That is so Ray. 

I was taken aback by this gesture because I always felt that I was way out of his league.  I only knew him from renting a room in his house for a short time a couple years prior.  He was always so refined, smart and handsome and I was so…me.  But who was I to turn down a free meal?

We went to a place called Cobalt in Silverlake.  Ray ordered Cadillacs.  They’re like a supercharged margarita.  After two of them, I started to relax a bit.  He sort of made me nervous because I was a very insecure 27 year old back then.  While he was talking, I started to realize how cute he was.  I never entertained the thought of having an attraction to him because he was not really my type and there was no way in hell a handsome successful man would ever be interested in a tall lanky rock band keyboardist who freelanced in film production.  But now, something was different.  Maybe I was a bit older and more secure.  I started to flirt shamelessly. 

The next morning–when I woke up in his bed–he gave me the key to his house.  We really hit it off the night before (so to speak).  I was sort of weirded out by this but quickly realized that we already knew each other and hell, it was the key I had when I lived there before. 

This was a perfect arrangement,  he was going to be moving away in a couple of months.  What a perfect no-frills mini relationship-fling thing.  We knew it was going to end so there were no messy attachments. 

We spent the next three months doing dinner, doing each other and just hanging out.  I stood on the street and waved goodbye one morning and never expected to see him again.  But then he called.

He flew back to visit.  I flew there.  He flew back.  I flew there.  He knew to never ask me to move because I was so entrenched in the LA scene.  I had just finished working on the Shawshank Redemption with another film lined up and my band had some record label interest.  There was no way I was going to leave when I was on the verge of major success. 

After a year of long distance dating,  I broke it off.  I was growing tired of trying not to fall for someone so far away.  Ray agreed.  A short time later.  He called one more time and said, “I love you.  I want you to move here.”  I did the most adult thing I have ever done in my life.  I said I’d think about it.

One day, I was at band practice.  Our guitar player stopped mid-song and asked me to turn my keyboards down.  Like a ton of bricks, I realized that:

A. Our guitar player was an asshole and I hated him.
B. The film industry sucks.
C. LA sucks.
D. There was a totally hot guy in a new town offering me the chance of a lifetime and I was turning it down!

So I left and never looked back…

The alarm went off.  Ray rolled over and shut it off.  I leaned into him and whispered, “Happy anniversary honey.”

That dinner with the Cadillacs was fourteen years ago today.

Ray and I were flying home yesterday from a fabulous trip to DC.  (I’ll blog about that later).  We had a layover in Dallas.  Our flight was delayed due to snow in Tucson.

Thanks global warming!

Instead of getting home at a reasonable hour and having some down time, we got home in the evening, ate and hopped into bed.  I hate doing that. 

I have a gazillion things to do this week (including voting today) and that is taking me farther and farther away from blogging.  I have Friday off but will probably be working all day from home.  I’ll probably just post some of the photos from my trip without saying to much about the event.  Me not saying much?  Hard to believe.

I just need to get past April…

The first few weeks with my trainer was all about figuring each other out.  Initially, I thought she was a little soft on me.  There was also an element of ramping up my muscle use so I didn’t injure myself.  I wasn’t really feeling the burn. 

Last night she killed me. 

We’re doing four sets now–as opposed to three and doing things where you do 8 reps with 25 pounds, 10 reps with 20 and then 12 with 15 all without a rest.  I just know I look like the little girly man trembling, sweating and grunting with my two little 15 pound barbells but man, by the time you get to those last three reps, your muscles are like hamburger.  She stands behind me giving me that little extra boost at the end of my set.  Does that make her my hamburger helper?

My trainer asked me if I see anything yet to which I said no.  I do, however, feel things.  I woke up the other night laying on my stomach.  Something felt funny on my chest as if I were laying on something kind of firm.  I suddenly realized that it was my chest I was feeling.  It doesn’t look any different to me (yet) but it was all tight and stuff. 

I’m kind of liking the gym.  There is the one guy that works out there who’s young and very, very muscular.  He always says hello and is very encouraging.  His arms are about as thick as my thighs. 

I’ve been told that I have good form which is true.  I have always been very “body conscience”.  It’s comes from years of singing, performing, dance lessons and, well, being a fag.  To me weight training is all about form.  Slow deliberate movement.  That’s how you get the growth and definition. 

My trainer has encouraged me to attent the the local bodybuilding show in March.  She asked me if I would be interested in competitive bodybuilding.  She says that I have the right body type and framework.  I was really excited when she said that until I realized that she works there and aside from being a trainer, she is a bit of a salesperson as well. 

I don’t think I would like being a slave to my bod.  I like alcohol and food too much and I have too many other things to do that would keep me from being in a gym every single day.  Hey, who knows?  One thing is for sure, I’m not quitting.  I promised myself that I would make significant changes to the bod this year by the time summer comes.  

Wish me luck…

Come again some other day…

OK, it’s official.  It’s 2:23 AM and I’m wide awake.  This is a clear indication that I have way too much going on.  The slightest thing like Ray breathing or the cat shifting positions stirs me from my sleep.  Before you know it, the brain starts going into high gear. 

My late night rushing brain train is heightened by the fact that the wind is howling outside.  You want to add a little bit of drama to your insomnia experience?  Sit in the dark with the sound of the wind rushing through the bare trees and the rain pelting against the window. 

I feel so alone.  So vulnerable.  That’s the funny thing about insomnia.  I sit here isolated and worried but then when the sun comes up, it all just melts away and everything is alright again–just like at the end of a zombie movie.  The new dawn comes and you wonder why, just a few hours ago, everything seemed so bad, so out of whack.  Nothing is trying to eat my brain.  Silly boy.

The best thing to do is just crawl back into bed with my man and our kitty cat.  She likes to sleep at the foot of the bed on these cold windy high desert nights.  Since sleep is evading me, I lay there and focus my inner tape loop on something positive…

Thank you for Ray.  Thank you for the kitty.  Thank you for the shelter from the wind and the rain.  Thank you for my health.  Thank you for the food on the table.  Thank you.  Thank you.  Thank you. 

Things are just going to be hectic for a while.  I have to accept that.  I just hope I can get back to sleep as I have so much to do tomorrow…I mean today. 

Thank you for reading my blog.  Thank you for caring. 

OK, it’s official.  I’m terrible at real-time online chat.  I need time to compose my thoughts before I let my fingers do the walking.  It’s more like my digits are doing the cha-cha all over the keyboard generating some sort of out-of-control dialogue.

When it comes to real-time expression in type, I have no filter in my hands.  (Hell, ask Ray and he’ll tell you my mouth has no filter either!)  I always seem to be saying all the wrong things at the wrong time creating the most socially awkward moments–which is great if you’re writing for Ben Stiller.  Sometimes I can’t believe the verbal (or textual) diarrhea that comes out of me!

It’s like Jeffrey Dahmer at a church social–pleasant but creepy.

I just know I’m going to be a really weird old man.  That’s for sure.  I just hope I can afford a live-in caretaker by then.

Well, once again we are having connectivity problems.  According to our wireless Internet privider’s web test, we’re downloading at 1.5 MBPS.

Uh, yeah…right.

I was going to blog about how both the two big Oscar contenders have totally hot characters with not just staches, they have Big Ol’ Staches!   It’s about time.  Maybe the Big Ol’ Stache will come back in style.  Then I’ll have to shave mine off…nah…not going to happen.

I guess I can’t post any photos of Daniel Day Lewis or Josh Brolin because I can’t do a friggin’ Google images search due to my computer problems. 

You know the story; The ISP say it’s your wireless network box and the people who make the box say it’s your ISP and you know that it’s just really God being mad at you for writing bad things about the bible.

I thought technology was supposed to make things easier.