the U and I in LOVE: Ten Years of Russ and Scott

This Week's Episode: The Time Tit

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sun, 10 May 2015 20:19:00 +0000

Life is tough - unreasonably so. Everyday we hear tragic stories. Well, here's mine:

Somewhere in the process of moving our alarm clock broke. It still goes off right on time but it won't shut off. That is no way to start your day.

So i ordered a new one. i got it off Amazon where we still have tax credit left. It was cheap and had the time projection i wanted and it even changes colors! i was very excited until i saw the estimated delivery date some 38 days later. It was being mailed to me ... from China.

Well many frantic mornings later while someone rowed across the Pacific, the alarm clock arrived. Upon pulling it from the box i promptly nicknamed it the Time Tit. (While obvious from the photo, some things only really become clear when you hold it in your hand.) The clock was shaped just like a small B cup with a little plastic nipple where the time shoots out.

Cute, huh? i was worried that the time projection would be too bright. Not to worry. You have to tap its nipple to get the time to show. Exceeeept i don't have a bedside table. (i figured it was better that i had to actually get up to turn off the alarm.)

Only now, in order to find out what time it is, i have to extract myself from the embrace of my husband, roll up and over the sleeping dog, unwind myself from the covers, unlatch my cpap mask, then avoid knocking the fan off the stool by the bed to go over to the clock and tap the nipple. (Did i mention that the time display on the face is the size of a digital watch?)

And let me tell you! That is not as easy as it sounds. Just the other night Russ rolled over while i was mid-process, pulling the covers toward him and away from me. You just don't alter the trajectory of nearly 300 pound me suddenly. i hit with an impact that could have devastated a small trailer park.

i guess, some nights it's just not worth getting out of bed.

What You See Is What You Get

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Thu, 16 Apr 2015 01:19:00 +0000

Ladies, Ladies! if you are engaged, living together, seriously dating -- whatever! please take a hard look at that man you are planning on spending the rest of your life with. that man, in all his imperfect glory, is all that you can ever hope for. no amount of love or dedication or patience or nagging or time is going to change him, his attitudes, his habits, or his friends. do you hear what i'm telling you?

let me tell you a little story. when Russ and i first started dating, i bowled every week in a gay bowling league. of course, i invited him to come bowl with us. well, he did and there was an open spot for him to bowl with us; but, of course, he did not have a pair of socks with him. so i suggested he take my credit card (wtf?? i know right?) and go across the parking lot to buy some socks.

what i meant was go across the parking lot to the K-Mart and buy a cheap pack of socks for bowling. is that what the bitch did? oh no. he came back with two pair of Polo socks from Parisian's.

hello? this instant was a microcosm of our entire life together. everything i needed to know about our financial life together was encapsulated in that one moment.

Russ and i have now been together for almost 15 years. today he wrote a $20 bad check to the grocery store. let me clarify - he wrote a $20 bad check on an account that is currently $200 overdrawn to buy cigarettes and wine. yet, i have absolutely no right to bitch.

the man i fell in love with, so many years ago, is still the same. he is wonderful, caring, loving, affectionate, and spoils me like no other man ever would. he would also pawn a $250 gold ring to buy a $20 bottle of gin.

so? almost two decades wiser, what's my advice? simply this: love and cherish that man with all your heart. embrace his weaknesses and appreciate his strengths. he has both.

realize that NO relationship (absolutely NO relationship) is perfect. now ask yourself; honestly, would you be better without him? if not then pray, Pray, PRAY that he does the same for you.

smooches all! here's hoping that the worst that ever happens only serves to open your eyes to all the blessings you take for granted every day.

SJ

The Return of the Waterfowl

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sun, 26 Jan 2014 20:02:00 +0000

Sandhill Cranes

one of the coolest things about where we live is that, in winter when local streams and ponds dry up, our neighborhood lake becomes the watering hole for scores of birds. we get ducks, geese, egrets, ibis, and sandhill cranes. it's like living in an animal park.

the sandhill cranes are amazing. first, they're huge. second, they do this dance where they hop and flutter. third, they have a really loud call which sounds like approaching pterodactyls.

so, that's the good news. in other news, (which i have not yet decided to be neither good nor bad) Grannie has been discharged from home health and recommended for hospice.

"but, " you may ask, "what does this all mean?" to which i would reply, "how the hell should i know?" we're meeting with the intake nurse this week. from what we've been told we will receive all the same services. still, hospice. it just has such dread connotations.

let's face it. none of us will live forever. from the first day she came to live with us i have reminded myself that she could be gone any morning, any afternoon, any moment. when i'm honest with myself i admit that in just two short years she has become a withered shadow of her former self.

that said, i have spent a lifetime creating for myself a rainbow-colored, Disney-esque world of my own. i'm not frequently honest with myself and i'm having a hard time creating a happy ending to this tale. in my heart i believe she's only stayed on Earth this long to make sure i'm okay. maybe the happy ending is her leaving her infirmities behind knowing that i'm going to be okay.

i'll share with you what i've learned. Don't disregard the small pleasures. Enjoy your independence because when its gone, you have little left. Laughter and love are the best parts of every day. And, that childhood you cherish is only a short lifetime away but your teens and twenties (for better or worse) are gone forever.

No One Wins All Time

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Thu, 16 Jan 2014 17:42:00 +0000

i have always been bossy, even as a little kid, and i've only gotten bossier as i've gotten older. but then, everyone in my family is bossy. i mean it -- everyone. i suppose everyone can be at times, i just come from a family where intelligent, opinionated, outspoken, and frequently self-righteous is more common than brown hair.

this only serves to make me love Russ that much more. Russ is not bossy. he is whatever the exact opposite of bossy is. and living in the same household with me, my grandmother, my father, and my mother, it is not just a characteristic -- it's an evolutionary trait.

however, it frequently leads to widespread misconception. everyone seems to think i "rule" the household and that Russ does whatever i ask. to this i reply, "HA!" That would be the farthest thing from the truth.

we do what i want, eat what i want, go where i want only when it also pleases Russ -- or if he doesn't care either way. i am just very good at know which is which. i have also learned to pick my battles which, i am quite certain, is one of the main lessons to learn if you want a happy marriage.

for example, Russ LOVES to go. he's always on the go. he's cleaning the house or cooking Grannie dinner or going to the store for something or running out to pick up something. but if i ask him to go somewhere, you can hear tires screeching in space.

i have had to explain that a trip only counts as travel when it requires fresh underwear. and considering the amount of cajoling required for a night out, you would think it required the logistics of a Madonna tour; yet he suggests going to Hayden to see his mom (a 16 hour drive) at least once a week.

all you lonely single people, the next time you see a couple and feel pangs of jealousy, comfort yourself that neither of them has seen the movie of their choice without discussion, bargaining, compensation, guilt, or abandonment since they were ... well, you.

Welcome to JaNEWary 2014

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 04 Jan 2014 22:13:00 +0000

welcome to January friends! as a new year begins now is the time to embark on the changes you've long wanted to make in your life. jump in! embrace the change! today is the first day of the rest of your life.

we're good here at the House of Fruit & Nuts. truly this last year has been wonderful and exciting and blessed in ways i can not express. (i'm sorry. is everyone tired of hearing me say that?) all i can tell you is that God loves the sinners too and be patient because you just can't know what He has in store for you.

now, i'm not going to lie. 4 grown adults sharing one house never stops being a test of the nerves. throw in the daily care of Grannie who is entirely dependent on us and just as entirely unhappy about being so dependent and you have our daily lives. sweet, huh?

special shout out to my friend Viv!! she was showing me photos of her late beloved husband Eddie and i noticed the gravestone read "At the end of the day, it's just you and me." it was a kind of litany for them especially as he struggled with cancer toward the end. that really wowed me. Russ & i have adopted it for ourselves.

think about it: people, jobs, places come and go in our lives. we love them and take care of them as best we can. but "at the end of the day" when we are tired and depleted, what makes marriage so special is that there is just the two of you - there for each other.

so, take a moment. commit to love and take care of the people, jobs, and places in your lives. at the end of the day, treasure those who are there for you. and never, never feel alone. know that God is there holding your hand until you are ready to hold the hand of another. believe it because i said it. (and i am just hardly ever wrong.)

i've commited to writing to you every week. i hope you'll support me by reading and responding.

Good Times

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 26 Oct 2013 23:06:00 +0000

is it wrong to be this happy? worse, is it wrong to say so?

today has been idyllic. i got up to a fantastic breakfast of Breakfast Flatbread Pizza by the pool. The sun was shining. The sky a perfect blue. Russ's back bothered him last night and he camped on the couch so we made up for lost snuggling time after breakfast. a surprise to no one i fell asleep and napped until lunch time.

i woke up to an even more beautiful sky. Grannie was sleeping soundly. i got in some pool time and then played on the computer. Russ made onion dip and shots. Grannie got up and we watched the Alabama game.

no. my life's not perfect. we struggle with money and miss family and friends too far away. but, i am incredibly blessed and i refuse to let that pass uncelebrated.

don't miss out on the good things as you chase the things you want. you may realize too late that you had it all.

Memorial Day Was Originally Decoration Day

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Mon, 27 May 2013 03:38:00 +0000

Memorial Day should mean something. It was originally Decoration Day -- a day to honor fallen heroes by placing flowers at their graves. None of us would enjoy the lives we lead if not for the sacrifices made by the men and women in uniform who defend this country.

Now, more than ever, there are graves in every city and town remembering the lives of soldiers who gave their lives in defense of this country. I no longer live close enough to honor the sacrifices made by members of my family but they are never far from my thoughts.

I'm proud to be an American, but i realize i have done so much less than others to earn the right to say that. If you want to remember this summer as more than cookouts and swim parties, take the time to put flowers on the grave of someone who fought for this country. Even if you do not agree with the politics or the politicians, take a moment to appreciate those who serve -- respect those who do what we could not or would not do.

Thieving Medical Bastards

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Thu, 23 May 2013 00:42:00 +0000

so i had Russ call the doctor today to check the results of my blood work. thing is, i've been having muscle spasms, muscle soreness, feet swelling, and weight gain. i looked it up. all symptoms of hypothyroidism -- which runs in my family. so i asked him to call and get the doctor to check my blood work, see if that was my problem.

he called. nope. thyroid levels are fine. diabetes? nope. glucose levels are fine. but! my liver enzymes are way too high. doctor wants me to have an ultrasound on my liver. wait. what?

see, just a few years ago my liver enzymes were up and the doctor sent me for a biopsy. i didn't question it. i had Insurance. it's an outpatient procedure. doctor says i "need' it. yeah, right.

what nobody said and i was too stupid to find out beforehand is that no procedure is covered 100% (my naivete seems sweet now) and my portion came to about $1300 AND there's a possibility the needle might puncture a lung or cause internal bleeding.

all this so the doctor could inform me, "You have a fatty liver." really? and all this time i thought that lazy ass organ was out jogging without me. i mean, of course i have a fatty liver. i have a fatty ass too. no "procedure" required.

The Greatest Lesson I've Never Learned

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Tue, 27 Nov 2012 04:01:00 +0000

one Christmas when i was little -- i guess about eight or nine years old -- my great-grandmother gave me a toy xylophone. it was white with multi-color keys and little wheels. it came with a little wooden mallet or you could pull it along and hidden mallets would strike the keys as it rolled. i was DISGUSTED! to my oh-so-grown-up eight year old self, this was a baby's toy.

of course i did not say that! by eight i was fully aware that saying anything ungrateful at Christmas, much less to my great-grandmother, would result in something other than those keys getting hit. i just muttered "Thank You" and set it aside to be ignored. dutifully my mother packed it up and brought it home.

but, the thing is -- i played with that little xylophone for yeeeeeaaars. i loved the colors of the metal keys even as they wore away over the years. i loved the sound it made when i drug the mallet (or a rock or a key or whatever was nearby) across the tiny keys or pulled it along. even today, should i stumble across one i can't resist the simple joy of tapping out little tunes on it.

the lesson here is that i thought i knew what i wanted and nothing about that little toy fit my expectations. it was simple, colorful, required creativity and imagination, and could hold my attention without the very first electronic blip or blink. but, of course, it took years for me to learn to appreciate all those things. i still don't know that i've completely learned the lesson.

we all think we know what we want. we have long lists of wants and needs stored in our heads lying in wait just to be asked. we look at things.. at places.. at people.. and make quick judgments about their worth. in Our Infinite Arrogance, we think we know what we want.

if we're very lucky, we're afforded the chance to learn how wrong we are.

years later my mother intended to sell my xylophone in a garage sale. horrified i pulled it from the To Be Sold box. she gave me that look of tired disdain (do they teach that look?) and said, "you never even wanted that thing." it was then i realized that she was right! (i didn't say that of course.) while it now seemed in-con-ceivable to me to lose it, i clearly remembered wanting nothing to do with it just a few Christmas Eve's ago.

look, i could quote example after example, but think about it: how many times have you received something that was nothing like what you "wanted" only to discover how wrong you had been all along? Life's greatest surprises are the ones we experience at our own expense.

you know i still have to learn this everyday. i still think i want the white chocolate mocha latte until i get the salted caramel espresso by mistake. but i've learned to smile whenever Life gives me the nudge and the wink. *sigh* i'll probably never learn. i kinda hope not! i've learned to really love the learning process.

The "Bell Beefer" Experiment

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Tue, 02 Oct 2012 11:23:00 +0000

so, apparently Taco Bell served something called the "Bell Beefer" back in the 80s and it was delicious and i totally missed out. (hell, not the first time.) to make that up to me (and to satisfy a craving almost 30 yrs in the making) Russ decided to recreate the "Bell Beefer" at home.

The Original (sadly, none of ours lasted long enough for a photo)

it's all very exciting! (tho' truthfully Russ could tell me he was making gravel & rice cuz it is always good.) we went to The Dix and bought the ingredients together; him from memory and myself from imagination. although somewhere in our discussions of the recipe i missed the part about Hot Rotel, Hot Sauce, and Ground Chipolte Peppers. (say it with me children, SPICCCCCCCCCY! -- but you gotta say it "spi - SSAAAAAAYY")

even so, it did turn out delicious. (lol - and there you have the high point of my day. wow, being gay sure is glamorous.) and because i want to share our fabulous with the world, here's the recipe:

1 lb of ground beef
1 cup of chopped onion
1 cup of chopped green peppers
1 can of Rotel (tomatoes & chilis)
1/2 block of Velveeta cheese, cubed
shredded lettuce
sliced tomatoes
hamburger buns

brown the ground beef. add the onions and green peppers and saute. season as desired.* Add Rotel and Velveeta and simmer until cheese is melted. Serve loose meat style on hamburger buns topped with lettuce and tomatoes.

* i omitted the hot sauce, etc. because it really was extremely spicy. you could add sliced jalapenos or cumin or taco seasoning. oh, go play people.

note - there was no Velveeta or veggies in the meat mixture of the original i understand. those were my ideas. you could just add shredded cheese i guess. also i spread some Taco Bell sauce on my bun - mostly to keep the damn lettuce from falling out (which it did anyway.)

join us next time as we recreate my favorite Taco Bell discontinued item: the Chili Cheese Burrito!

Sorry, You Have Expired

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Tue, 25 Sep 2012 14:17:00 +0000

Russ's driver license has expired and, due to the new strenuous requirements of the Florida DMV which require multiple documents to establish identity and residency, he has not renewed them. (has it not occurred to anyone that it is probably easier for an illegal immigrant - or God knows a terrorist - to obtain proof of residency than someone who has been licensed to drive for over 30 years with no question?) it sucks.

what's more is that people (ok, specifically banks) with no obvious connection to the department of transportation want to deny you certain privileges just because your government issued ID is no longer valid. (i've had this conversation! "look that's me in the picture. see? here's my birthdate. i've been me for YEARS now. are you saying i'm no longer me because i don't have the money to renew my driver's license? will you cash my check if i promise to walk home?")

is there some cachet to driving one's self around i just don't get? why, just in the very recent past i was the only member of a 5 person household with a valid driver's license. i don't remember any feelings of empowerment or privilege. no, i remember having to get dressed because i had to drive.

you know what amazes me most about the Lindsay Lohan/Amanda Bynes debacles, why are they driving?? i hate to drive. (ok. honestly, i don't like leaving the house so i'm sure there's a certain amount of spill over.) if i was rich, even semi-/somewhat/more or less rich, i would not be driving. i can't imagine why they are.

can you imagine what their lawyers must be saying? "dammit Lindsay. haven't you been in enough trouble? if you're going to drink or do drugs -- and you are -- do NOT get behind the wheel of a car. seriously! hire a chauffeur, take a cab, ride with a friend, hell! take the damn bus but JUST DON'T DRIVE!" (i get all red and puffy faced just thinking about it.)

sheesh! my next blog i will go off on Bureaucratic Bullshit and the Title to my Car. see you then!

The Dog Urine Rebellion & The Day I Ran

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Tue, 21 Aug 2012 14:24:00 +0000

once upon a time in my life, urine was not even a subject of consideration. now my life seems semi-obsessed with it. not only do i spend much of my days wondering if Grannie needs to go to the bathroom or if she's gone and i need to change her undergarment -- i'm now on Puddle Patrol.

The rare photo of Rico (distracted i believe by the promise of cheese)

we have two little dogs, Coco & Rico. Rico has always been the special child. he's high-strung, skittish, timid and yet overly aggressive if he feels threatened. fine, fine. but lately, he insists on peeing in the house. perhaps it's the weather (he's scared of storms and the wind) or perhaps its a bladder problem (trip to the vet: on the list.), but whatever the case, it's a problem.

AND he's a freaking ninja. just this morning Russ took both dogs out and, dutifully, Coco immediately handled her business. Rico instead ate some grass. Russ came in the bedroom and updated me -- so far, no "accidents" -- while Coco tried her best to cojoin herself to me. then Rico ran in and tried to lick off my nose.

as we headed to the kitchen i discovered that, during our brief two-minute interval, Rico had peed on the leg of the dining room table. i had noticed he was late to join us. the tip off should've been him yelling "be right with you" from the other room.

to make matters worse, now Coco is going in the house. i mean, i guess i see her side of things. when i caught her the other day she looked at me like, "what? so i have to hold it and go outside in the rain and he can just piss in the floor anytime he feels like it??" at which point i just shrugged and went to get the paper towels.

in other news, i ran the other day. if you know me, you understand how this would be newsworthy. i have often said, "if you see me run past you, you should drop whatever you're doing and try to outrun me. trust me, either you don't want to face whatever is after me or you damn well want to beat me to whatever i'm running towards."

truth is, i wondered if i still could. even as a child i thought adults looked funny running. now i understand. when you're five foot ten and 250 plus pounds, once you start to run you start to wonder how you're going to stop.

i decided i would attempt a short sprint. the first issue was when and where could i do this. i approached it much as i would streaking -- short distance, quickly back inside, and with as few spectators as possible. i settled on mid-afternoon. (one thing about summer in the South is in the afternoons outside is more desolate than the middle of the night.)

so i sauntered casually down to the mailbox, checked left and right to make sure there was no one around, and took off running down the street. i must have run 20 feet! i stopped to consider the experience.

as you can probably imagine, the first thing i did was to collapse in the front yard. i lay there, attempting to recapture the years of my life i had just lost, breathing hard, and listening as my rational brain tried to explain to my angry heart and lungs why i felt the need to do this.

let's just say this, if fight or flight are my only options, i better whup ass like a mother fucker.

Situation: HANDLED

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Wed, 15 Aug 2012 00:24:00 +0000

ok. i'm going to publicly clarify what i have long known about myself. (no, not the gay thing. hell, hasn't everybody got that memo by now?) i'm talking more about my role in the greater scheme of things. i am "a Handler". you know, one of those annoying bitches who bring up something that needs to be done and then harasses you about doing it, even though you never will, until we finally just HANDLE it.

now. "why even bother with the harassment?" you may be asking. because (my poor, simple friend) Handlers are the WMD of the Doing world. we are Doing Napalm. we should be the Last Resort. because when it reaches the point where i need to handle it, i just want it done. i don't care how.

so if i say, "you need to clean up your room" (repeatedly) and it doesn't get done and (sigh) i decide i need to handle it -- i may decide that apparently all that shit on the floor is unnecessary and give it all to Goodwill. i may decide that all that stuff you've put on the wall is the equivalent of a used Post-It note and tear that shit down and throw it away. or i may decide that you obviously cannot manage such a difficult-to-clean space and move your bed to the garage. (after all, concrete floors are easier to clean and you're that much closer to the laundry and garbage cans.)

so -- once i handle it, don't come to me with stupid questions like, "where is all my stuff?" or "what did you do with my X-box?" or "why's my bed in the garage?" i am recuperating from the exertion of Handling. (and possibly trying to decide how i want to decorate my new sitting room.) just go away and be happy in the knowledge that i have handled it for you.

oh, and you're welcome.

i weight and i weight...

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Wed, 08 Aug 2012 00:29:00 +0000

for those of you who follow the blog (and the even smaller group that might care), i thought i might update you on the Progress of My Journey. (and by that i mean my feeble attempts at weight loss through dieting.) i have been dieting now for a month -- tracking carbs and calories on My Daily Plate.

what i have discovered about myself over the last month is ... i suck at this (and NOT in a good way). apparently, dieting requires a measure of will power and determination that i simply do not have. of course, this is not news -- not to myself or anyone who knows me.

i figure i have approximately sixty-something years on this earth and why i should make even a moment of that unhappy or uncomfortable escapes me. i simply do not believe anyone has ever gone to Heaven and said, "oh thank you God that i worked out so diligently those ten years." (cuz it better not happen next to me. i like to think in Heaven i will be much more tolerant but, well... let's not test it, ok??)

so far, after diligently exercising (yes i did. don't you dare question!) and dieting, i have gained 4 pounds. now, i'm assuming its all muscle for my vigorous morning workout. this is to be expected i assume. i have been walking off the weight doing laps in the pool every morning. i love it! it is cool, low-impact, and - should i start to sweat - i can cool off quickly just by dipping into the water. (look, don't be a hater.) should i drop pounds soon, expect a workout video. (just sayin')

of course, the secret to my success (wait, didn't i GAIN 4 pounds?) is my personal chef Russelle Parsones. without him i would be subsisting off a diet of vienna sausages, hot dogs, and rotisserie chicken. i have to thank him for his love and support, cooking for me low-carb and encouraging my weight loss. (wait... didn't i GAIN 4 pounds??)

eh, either way i figure i'm a Winner. either i lose a few pounds and my clothes are looser or i remain the happiest, most well-fed bitch in a beach town. i'm sorry. you just can't argue with results like those.

Why So Surprised?

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Tue, 07 Aug 2012 02:09:00 +0000

i haven't published anything in awhile and i apologize. i really just didn't feel like i had anything to say. however, i now realize that my original objective is as relevant as... ev-ah.

see, i wasn't going to comment on this whole "Chik-fil-hate" brouhaha. in the beginning i just didn't understand the uproar. the fact that the president of a fast-food franchise which keeps its stores closed on Sundays pours money into "Christian" PACs should be as shocking as the news that Clay Aiken is gay. (really America. really??) it should have been greeted with a loud, resounding "DUH". beyond that i was a little overwhelmed at the level of outrage. with everybody having something to say, i felt like i had nothing new to offer. (other than "i know right??" which i said often.)

however. the subject came up with Mother the other day. as i learned more about the activities in question i had become both disgusted and discouraged. she said to me, "i don't know all those people, but the ones i have know are just ignorant. that's what you're dealing with: ignorance." believe it or not, i had actually bought into the notion of an enlightened modern society, an Age of Ellen where stereotypes and prejudices had been cured by the syndication of Will & Grace.

no matter how i try (and i really have tried) i cannot understand the stance against gay marriage. how does the concept of two people, regardless of gender, entering into a lifetime of commitment and monogamy diminish ... well, anything? if a million gay couples married tomorrow, how does even one heterosexual marriage or religious institution or closely held personal belief suffer?

i gotta say -- photos of people lining up for hours to buy a chicken sandwich in a show of anti-gay support disheartened me tremendously. then Mother pointed out to me what i had worked so hard to deny, "all those people think gays are perverts, that you all lead sick, perverted lives. they don't know you." and i knew she was right.

that's why i started writing a blog in the first place -- to reveal how we, a gay couple, live. prejudice thrives on ignorance and (i like to think) that those people eating at Chik-fil-A in support of their anti-gay agenda might "know" someone gay but they don't really know someone gay. so they can all get to know me. really, i'd like to invite all of them to get to know me.

also, i'd like to say that i consider myself a Christian in the truest sense. i believe in the Lord God Almighty, my savior Jesus Christ, and that ... until the Second Coming of Christ ... there is no one on earth who knows the will of the Lord any better than you or i.

Is She Crazy? Senile? Or Just Messing With Me?

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Wed, 18 Jul 2012 13:59:00 +0000

one of the biggest surprises that Life has had for me is to find myself caring for my grandmother. now we share every day together. i help her to the toilet, change stinky diapers (and if you've only done it for a baby -- you have NO idea), keep up with her medicines, and cook for her and feed her and put her to bed every night.

-- let me just stop here to say that i absolutely could not do this without Russ. you just never think when you fall in love with someone, amidst all the hearts and flowers, that you will ever be wiping a relative's behind. yet he helps me sooo much, even taking over in the evenings once he gets home. during this last month while he's been dealing with Ryan's death there have been lots of times when he had neither the energy or the desire but he was still there. (i wish all those people who are against gay marriage could have spent one of those weeks with us!) --

but, anyway, my point is ... (wait, what was it again? oh yeah!) ... Granny comes up with some crazy ass shit. in the last 10 months she's had three UTI's. maybe that's my fault. (i draw the line at the hoo-hoo. c'mon people, she's my grandmother.) apparently an infection in the nethers plays havoc in the head.

she has come up some wild stuff. she's told me that she has been married three times. she called me Jennifer and when i asked if she'd changed my name; she said yes because "it suits me better." she insists that she's lost her purse and there is $6000 in it. (of course we looked!)

sometimes i call her on it and when i do she laughs so hard i wonder if she's laughing or crying. the nursing home diagnosed her with dementia. i don't think so. i think its a combination of bored and sleeping a lot.

i know she loses track of time. just yesterday she told me we had to go shopping because she hadn't finished her Christmas shopping. she confuses what she's seen on tv or dreamed with reality. lol, we now restrict her viewing to GSN, Disney, The Waltons, and Little House On The Prarie (and even then we had problems after Carrie fell down that damn well).

the question is, how much of this is really just her messing with us? i know she does. as i said, i sometimes call her out on it and she finds it hysterically funny. in a way, i admire her for it. after all, at 92 what are you going to do for fun?

So, Goodbye Yukon Gold ...

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Tue, 10 Jul 2012 23:55:00 +0000

so, yeah. if you've been with me on The Daily Plate then you know that i have really sucked at limiting my daily caloric intake. not that i'm terribly surprised. let's face it. if i was any good at dieting i would do it more often. still, i did lose 2 of the 9 pounds i gained in the first week...

anyway, it's become painfully obvious that i cannot keep my calories below 1600 per day AND eat and drink both. wth??? that's like "Sophie's Choice"! it's like asking me to choose between Britney & Ke$ha. (shudders)

hell, it's like telling me i have to choose between weight loss and my marriage; because, honestly?, have you eaten Russ's cooking??? and he brings the plate -- piled high with delicious smelling food -- to me at the computer. i don't even have to walk to the kitchen! (and you know how i feel about walking, right?) not to mention, how many times can i be expected to say "No" to the question, "honey, would you like a cocktail?"

so, i am headed back to the Atkins Diet. really i'm good with that. it should be the official diet of all homosexuals. (think about it -- lots of greasy meat, all the cocktails you can drink, and endless plates of tiny cheese cubes you can eat with rainbow colored toothpicks.) i have done the diet many times and always with success. you just can't argue with success ... or history ... especially not a history of success.

and this is just breakfast!

yes. i will miss you potatoes and cheese toast. i will yearn for pasta and rice. i will steal a lustful glance at the cakes and doughnuts as i pass hurriedly through the Winn Dixie bakery. but! i have an arsenal of low-carb recipes on The Daily Plate to battle my cravings. Russ is an awesome personal chef and loves to grill, broil, pan-sear, bake, or slow cook any and all kinds of meat at my request. (take that as you will.)

Here I Grow Again

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Mon, 02 Jul 2012 21:32:00 +0000

dear friends, i want to thank you in advance for all your loving support and i deeply apologize for my future behavior as i can only imagine it will be intolerable. why, you may ask? the time has come again ... to ... (i just can't bring myself to say it) ... diet.

now, i am not rescinding my earlier pronouncements such as, "fat is not an ugly word in my house." after all, fat is a fun word. it makes a funny sound. its short and easy to say. hell, its practically the word "fun" if you squint at it.

the simple truth is that i am now straining the upper limits of my wardrobe and the only thing worse than dieting is shopping for clothes in a bigger size. (in fact, i've mentioned this and never got a definitive answer but; if you are too big to fit in your clothes and too poor to buy cute new ones -- does that qualify you as "homebound"?)

i am prepared to share my journey with you all. i even invite you to bravely share your own struggles alongside me. i will be tracking all of my eating (honestly and shamelessly) on The Daily Plate. It's a great way to monitor your diet and exercise (if you are into that kind of thing) and it's FREE. plus, the more of us that boldly and publicly reveal our gluttonous lifestyles, the more we can encourage, scold, and deride one another. this will not only help us to succeed but allow us to indulge in schadenfreude. (yeah, there are probably a lot of other words i could've used there but, c'mon! how often do you get to trot out a word like that?) even now, i'm typing this with a chocolate smeared plate staring up at me with blatant contempt.

so, are you in -- or are you out??

This Too Shall Pass

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Wed, 27 Jun 2012 23:50:00 +0000

ahhh Wednesday -- all the crap of Monday with none of the originality. you know... this constant plodding on; hour onto hour, day onto day, is very tedious. when does Lay In The Bed All Day & Not Get Up-day come?

big weekends ahead! Russ's mom Gail & niece Courtney are coming down for the weekend. this will be the first time that Gail has ever come to visit us. hell, its the first time (that i know of) that Gail has ever gone to visit anyone. Russ is ecstatic; which makes me giddy. i'm hoping that she will start to visit on a semi-regular basis. i know that would mean the world to Russ.

and then there's next weekend. (LOL) my parents are coming down and bringing my sister AND her on-again/off-again boyfriend (or friend or whatever), Jason. for reasons all his own, Russ is absolutely against Jason coming here (which i totally respect.. although it would be easier to reconcile if it made the slightest bit of sense). but, again, that's next weekend.

the down side of this weekend's visit is that Courtney wants to get Gail out of the house because tomorrow would have been Ryan's 24th birthday. (ugh. how's that for a punch to the gut?) the year i turned 24 i spent an amazing summer doing Summerfest, i fell head-over-heels in love and got my heart broken, i graduated from college, and i got my first real job. i remember so much laughter and drama and angst and loneliness and looking back it all seems so long ago.

Ryan never got any of those things. as years passed i traveled the country. one night i met a great guy and (when i least expected it) fell in love. one day i realized i had found someone who loved me, always would, and wanted to spend the rest of his life with me. one morning i was shocked to realize i felt the same way! how do i get up every morning and put on a happy face knowing that Ryan and so many, many others will never have the chance to look back fondly on all that (which i'm beginning to realize is the BEST part).

what get's me through is my faith. i believe there is a God who loves us. i believe that he has a plan for our lives. i accept that, because He loves me, i don't have to understand that plan, much less "keep all the cars on the right road".

it all reminds me of one of my favorite things in the world: the Rube Goldberg machine. see? even though things seem random and senseless and stupid, i believe everything is part of this big, complex machine that ultimately makes good things happen. (eh, blame my Presbyterian upbringing)

to wit, watch and enjoy:

... To Say Goodbye

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Tue, 19 Jun 2012 18:08:00 +0000

alright campers. we're here. i've made all the arrangements and (unless Russ AGAIN throws a wrench in my plans) we are headed to Hayden early tomorrow to be there when Ryan comes home. the rep from the crematorium will be delivering his ashes to Gail's house.

Russ is wearing the Brave face. he insists he has no desire to wander around and touch Ryan's things or hold the urn and wail and cry. (am i supposed to believe this??) i am, however, preparing for full-on wretched anguish.truly, has anyone in the world ever been prepared to hold the remains of their only child in their hands? (hell, i'm tearing up at the thought!)

it's been a long, winding road from that day i first met that grinning twelve year old. (forgive my waxing metaphoric, but...) there have been some really high mountains to get over and some deep, dark valleys i thought we would never make it through. but now comes the hardest part of the journey -- the part we never prepared for -- going on without him ...

Steadily Does The Mule Walk The Mule Path

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Mon, 18 Jun 2012 15:16:00 +0000

i love him i love him i love him i love him i love him i love him i love him i love him i love him i love him I'M GONNA KILL HIM i love him i love him i love him

so, i rented a car on Thursday. my parents took off from work and drove down from Atlanta to sit with Grannie. all set. ready to go. found a hotel close by. got the money for the trip. all set? ready to go?

we talk it over. Russ wants to wait. its still too raw. it would be too hard for him to be there in Warrior with his Mom, surrounded by Ryan's things and pictures of Ryan. i agree. i understand.

only a year ago???

i don't think it would be good for Russ to stay there at her house. i urge him to bring her down here with us for a week. get her away and give them time to grieve together. he agrees.

days come and days go by. his family calls; begging, bawling, bullying. Russ wavers. "i gotta go." then "i just can't handle it." then "we just have to go." then "we'll go once everyone has had time to settle down." ok, whatever you need...

until Sunday. after my parents leave for Atlanta and all the travel money is gone, Russ decides. he needs to get this behind him. he needs to be there for his Mom. he wants to be there when Ryan's ashes are delivered. he's going to go Monday morning, spend the night, pack up Ryan's room, and come home Tuesday night -- regardless. (right, right. sure you will...) of course, i can't go and leave Grannie here alone.

um, what happened here?? how is it that i'm now going to stay home with Grannie while Mr. I-Have-An-Expired-Driver's-License drives up to Warrior for two days in the rental car i rented??? and i'm a selfish bitch for having a problem with this!

now, it's Monday. Ryan's ashes won't be delivered until Wednesday. the rental car is due back today. and i'm still following the Mule down his Mule Path....

How Can I Help You ..

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Fri, 15 Jun 2012 03:19:00 +0000

well, last night it happened. you know it might but you never think .... Russ's son, Ryan, is dead. he was 24.

Russ is so completely devastated. we just cried together for a long time. (even for a mouthy little bitch like me, sometimes there are just no words.) then we did shots and then we just laid in bed trying to sleep.

what do you say to someone you love when they lose a child? how do you comfort someone when they hurt that much? it's just freakin' unreal.

whatever you believe, i hope you will pray for him -- send him love and strength.

I Married a Mule

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sun, 10 Jun 2012 21:24:00 +0000

why are husbands so stubborn??? it is some kind of required trait - carefully sought out in the selection process by a dutiful subconscious? are cute, funny, interesting husbands-to-be cruelly eliminated for being too accommodating? for years i accepted that it was a hidden flaw in my otherwise wonderful husband. however, recent conversations with friends suggests a possible epidemic. how is this helpful in any relationship?

normally Russ is so wonderful that it's WRONG. he's super laid-back, easy-going, does everything around the house, and waits on me hand and foot. that is, as long as it's something he wants to do. if he makes up his mind about something, no amount of emotion or reason is going to topple that mountain of will. (what is up with that??)

people don't believe this about him! many think of him as The Man Who Can't Say "No". well, let me tell you, he can and he does. i have to say, i'm pretty good at getting my way. still, once he makes up his mind, even my formidable powers of persuasion are tested.

and most frustrating of all? being PROVEN RIGHT provides me no clout in future discussions. exhibit A: a recent discussion about somewhere i wanted to go (i don't remember where but i'm quite sure it was fabulous and not to be missed.)

Me: c'mon Russie, let's go. pleeeeeeeeeaaaassssseeeeeeeee?
Russie: no. c'mon baby, let's just stay home tonight.
Me: awwww, i want to go. it'll be fun.
Russ: do you really want to go? i have to work tomorrow and i'm tired. let's just skip it this time. (Russ works 6 days a week so this is a staple.)
Me: awww c'mon. it's early and you could take the day off and we could spend the day around the house together. (note: "spend the day around the house together" is code for "you can play outside in the yard and i won't ask you to go anywhere")
Russ: i don't need to miss work. (note: somehow this is never the case when he wants to take the day off.)
Me: you know you'll enjoy it. remember the last time we went ______________? you didn't want to go, but you did and you had a great time! (smug look on face as, in my mind, establishing precedence=victory)
Russ: yes, i did ... and it sounds good but ... we don't need to spend the money.
Me: fine. (slow simmer)

he'll do anything for love but he WON'T do that

see? see what he did there? he ADMITTED i was right before, that he did go and enjoy it even though he didn't want to, and even that it would be fun -- then, BAM!, the trump card.

sometimes it's .. "it's too far to drive Velma" or "we wouldn't get home until after dark" or "we don't have anyone to stay with Grannie" but usually it's .. "we don't need to spend the money". "we don't need to spend the money" is that one eternal truth i cannot argue.
still, one of these days i am going to squirrel away a big old wad of money in a secret place and just whip it out even as he drops the M bomb. you - just - wait - and - see!

The Secret To Happiness

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Fri, 01 Jun 2012 14:56:00 +0000

hello friends. are you tired of all the drama? do you dread that next phone call or text? i understand. i have been there myself. there is an answer: RUN!

no, don't walk, run. run as far and as fast as your meager little resources will take you. you too can enjoy sanity and serenity in a new city far away from friends and family and their big ole pot of crazy.

stop drinking the kool-aid. relocate to a place where you don't know anyone -- away from people who are always needing your help or imposing their's with the best of intentions. get a pre-paid cell with a local number and

it will work -- for a while.

eventually, they will find you. it always happens. first there will phone calls, visits. they will want money, food, shelter. eventually, once they have determined that you happily entrenched in your new surroundings, they will follow you like a trail of hungry ants. (or maybe that's just me.)

the truth is, happiness is not a place you move to. it's not a thing you buy. it's a thing you make. let me repeat -- it is a thing you make. no one can make it for you and you can't make it for anyone else. (i have a hard time with that last part.)

i'm very blessed (or very delusional -- jury's still out) in that i'm looking forward to my parents moving in. i love spending time with them. i miss having my sister here in Pensacola and am trying to work it out so that she can return. i'd like for Russ's Mom to sell her house and buy something here so that Russ could spend time with her. (or better still, flee into the night and leave the house to Ryan but, really, how long til they cut off the power and he just showed up here?)

see, you can't make happiness for others but you can share your's.

Happy Memorial Day Weekend!

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sun, 27 May 2012 22:55:00 +0000

hey blog readers! sorry i haven't been around more lately. i have a bad case of computus iteruptus also know as Stupid A#@ F#@%& Piece of S#@%. (hopefully i will get it resolved soon.)

BUT! as i like to say, "What-Evah!". let's get happy. it's Memorial Day Weekend and Pensacola is knee deep in partying gays and lesbians. the weather is perfect. the beach is Gorgeous. everyone is having a fan-tastic time. Russ and i are celebrating in our traditional way: LOTS of food and liquor.

because i am a magnanimous queen, i want to share the love with everyone who could not be down here with us on this most festive of weekends. and so, i give you this:

Our Beautiful Beach minus all those annoying hot guys and girls in swimsuits

and this:

the Beach Weekend

aka the PERFECT Memorial Day Wkend Shot Recipe

1 oz Whipped vodka
.5 oz Pineapple Rum
.5 oz Orange Juice

shake with ice and strain into shot glasses. garnish with a squirt of whipped cream if you like (and you KNOW you do!).

Klink! Kiss! Kill! <repeat>

just remember, keep it safe and don't forget the thank you notes!

we'll be here all summer. come see us!