Favorite Things Friday.

Good Scents...

I've always been a cologne-wearer, since about 1981 or so, when I received my first bottle of Polo. (I don't count the Brut 33 days, pre-1980.) I've been through the usual fragrances... I had my Drakkar period, my Halston Z-14 period, my Paco Rabanne period. Ultimately, I have gravitated towards clean-smelling, fresh scents.

There are four that I currently wear in rotation:

Clinique Happy for Men (and, as I say, who isn't happy for men?)

Bora Bora by Liz Claiborne (an oldie and a cheapie now)

Nautica Voyage

Calvin Klein Euphoria

I wore John Varvatos for about a week before it started making me sick. I smelled like a mom at a 1974 PTA meeting. (Don't ask me to explain that metaphor... I'm not sure even I get it. Well, I guess Varvatos smelled female and old-fashioned to me, and reminded me of the only times I'd ever smell ladies' perfumes when I was a kid-- at evening school functions.)

Since smell-o-blogs don't exist yet, you'll have to go to the nearest Ulta3 store or Macy's and test some of these. Then you'll know (kind of) what I smell like. Well, that and a Salem Ultra-light. And a cup of coffee.

Lovely.

Wacky Day.

I've been without home access to the internet intermittently for weeks. The cable guy came over and assured me I had connectivity, so the problem must be with my computer. He suggested I defragment my drive, something I already have the computer do automatically every week.

I did, however, do some extra "cleaning up," did a re-start, and presto! I'm on.

I'm home today as I had some minor complications following yesterday's colonoscopy. (It's true what they all say, that the prep is far worse than the actual procedure.) The results are that I probably have irritable bowel syndrome, and some polyps were removed for biopsy. They are looking for celiac sprue, essentially a reaction to gluten. The result? I have to give up at least the following: caffeine, carbonated beverages, nicotine, and spicy foods. In addition, I may have to watch what kinds of wheat products I eat.

My MRI results on my neck and brain came back. The neck (and the surgery from 2006) looks great, no problems. The Chiari malformation seems unchanged. The issue is with the blood vessels in my brain-- some sort of "abnormalities." Doctor has ordered an MRA (the nurse described it as "just like an MRI, but using a different software package"). Things they might be looking for: AVM (this is what Nate Fisher had on "Six Feet Under"), aneurysm, or any kind of "hardening of the arteries." Sheesh.

Just shoot me already.

Meanwhile, a reporter from the Wall Street Journal emailed me, as she found my post about using Zabasearch.com to find out info on the then-new boyfriend. She found the post hilarious, and wants to interview me for a story about internet searching for the WSJ! How fun is that?

Wacky day.

'Nuff Said Thursday.

Henri Castelli.

Point of "View?"

I enjoyed watching "The View" when Rosie was on, although not nearly as much as I enjoyed her original talk-show. I always felt like Rosie behaved the way I would if I were meeting a famous person. She was star-struck and charming, and often made a fool of herself over her guests. I lived vicariously through her.

Then, of course, she became an opinionated, political, out lesbian. But I still enjoyed the banter on "The View." She kept it fun and interesting, and I was always sort of waiting for her to take on right-wing, Bible-thumping, brainless "Survivor" loser Elisabeth. When they finally duked it out, it was fun, albeit short-lived.

After Whoopi came on, I watched for about a month. Then she announced she was quitting smoking, and the show became "Whoopi's On-Air Therapy." The whole "hot topics" segment lost its edge. And the appearance of lame-brained Sherri Shepherd only added to the inanity.

But the crowning moment came yesterday, when I read this gem:

Whoopi Goldberg seemed sad and choked up on "The View" Monday when her fellow co-hosts discussed how she was not included in a montage featuring Oscar hosts during the Academy Awards telecast.

The 52-year-old Goldberg has received two Oscar nominations, winning for her role as Oda Mae Brown in 1990's "Ghost." She hosted the event in 1994, 1996, 1999 and 2002. She did, however, appear as an Oscar winner in a separate montage Sunday night.

Goldberg appeared stumped that the academy would leave her out of the one clip, as well as repeat host Steve Martin.

"Maybe they accidentally lost a clip of you hosting. ... But I think it's wrong," Elisabeth Hasselbeck said. Joy Behar said "being slighted is never fun." Sherri Shepherd wondered if Goldberg had made someone mad.

"Undoubtedly," Goldberg said, smiling. "Undoubtedly I (bleeped) somebody off yet again. You know what, I don't — I don't know."

"Hey, we think you're a great host," reassured Barbara Walters, the creator of the ABC chatfest.

"I think we should do our own montage of you to make up for it," Hasselbeck said.

"This makes up for it," Goldberg responded, before getting up and kissing each co-host on the cheek. She and Walters embraced.

WTF??!!? Get over yourself, Whoopi. You've come down quite a few pegs since "The Color Purple," child. I mean, "Hollywood Squares?"

And, really, your hosting of the Oscars was not good. Period.

Now, suck it up and move on, crybaby.

TMI Tuesday.

I can't eat solid foods today-- I'm having a colonoscopy tomorrow. Only popsicles, Jell-O and broth. (Thank the good lord I can have coffee and pop, at least.) So I'm a little cranky. But here goes...

1. What can you consider as the greatest thing you've ever done for/ to yourself?
Buying my first home. It’s been a year, and I am extremely proud of the fact that I could get approved for a mortgage, afford the little place, and have the satisfaction of being a homo... homo... homeowner. I walked out of the closing with all my paperwork, got in my car, and cried like a baby. It was exciting, scary, self-affirming, and represented my new life and independence.

2. What/ Which part of your life do you think you could have done better and why?
Career. I have always felt I was destined for great success as a performing artist, whether as an actor, singer, composer, pianist, etc. I discovered it at a time when a relationship meant more, so I shelved my plans. I’m just taking them off that shelf now and dusting them off for consideration.

3. Do you have that one person whom you consider to be the wind beneath your wings?
Wow. This is hard to answer. The simple answer would be no. But I have a lot of special who, when combined, are the wind beneath my wings. I’d say the one person who comes closest on their own would be my sister, who has survived breast cancer, raised a family, been a successful career gal, and makes a mean sweet potato casserole. She inspires me.

4. Tell us about your longest relationship.
There isn’t enough bandwidth on the entire web. The relationship lasted from 1988 until 2005. We had a commitment ceremony in 1991. We lived in five different places. There was lots of ugliness towards the end, when he fell in love with someone else. But we remain friends.

5. In a relationship, when do you get to that point of enough is enough?
When I realize that there is no longer “us” or “we”... when it becomes “him and me.” Or “he and I.”

Bonus (as in optional): What is that one intimate moment with someone you miss so much and what are you willing to risk to have another moment of it. ;)
This question is way too specific, as if the person wrote it with their own situation in mind. I don’t need to risk anything to recapture intimacy with anyone. That’s what memories are for. If it’s someone I “miss so much,” then they’re either dead or the relationship if over. Neither of those justify any kind of risk.

'Nuff Said Monday.

Fernando Sippel.

What Have You Learned, Dorothy?

Or, "Fine-Tuning My Preferences."

Now that I'm single again (by the way, he still has not contacted me, and supposedly he's been back in Chicago for a week now), I'd like to present a list of "must-haves" for my future boyfriends. (These are all based upon specifically things that happened with, or were said by, Michael, a.k.a. The New Ex-BF.) In no particular order:

1. Should not have mommy issues. That is to say, he should have a healthy, loving relationship with his mother. And there should be no question as to who his real mother is.

2. He should be out to his whole family. They should have dealt with his sexuality by now. They don't have to be card-carrying PFLAG members, but his gayness should not be an after-school special anymore.

3. Should not work crazy weekend hours. Should know his work schedule. Should not claim to be scheduled from 12-5 on a Saturday, then days later suddenly claim that it's actually 2-9 he's scheduled to work.

4. Should not have large dogs, especially young dogs. I love my Bailey, but at the age of 12, he's considered a senior citizen, and behaves quietly, calmly, sweetly. I will not share a boyfriend with his fucking high-maintenance dogs. And if he has dogs, they should be trained using consistent and effective methods. And they should never, ever bite me, or my Abercrombie shirt.

5. Should communicate clearly, openly, honestly. Should call when he says he's going to.

6. Should never, ever, ever playfully bite any part of my body. I am extremely sensitive to this. Keep your damn teeth off my body parts-- don't kiss me and then surprise me by biting my lip. Not sexy. Not nice. Pisses me off. (See dogs above.)

7. Should want to go out and be in public together, at least some of the time. Should enjoy restaurants and the occasional bar. Should have an interest in current movies and popular culture.

8. Should be able to accept a complement. Should have a healthy sense of self-esteem. If I tell him I think he's cute, he should not call me a "sweet liar."

9. Should not lie about his age. What's the fucking point? Ever hear of zabasearch.com ?

10. Should eat meat. (And I mean that any and every way you want to take it.)

11. Should keep a clean home. Nothing worse than a filthy bathroom.

12. Must not refer to Obama as "the brotha" candidate. Must not use the n-word.

That's enough for now.

Falling Out of Love.

If you read my ‘Nuff Said Thursday post, you got a bombshell. And if you read about the BF’s sudden disappearance to the Sunshine State, you have some of the background of why I’m ending the relationship.

This past Friday, there was a phone message from him asking for money, as his length of time in Florida apparently precluded his getting paid (funny how that works, huh?). He left a message, asking for the favor of depositing money, with his account number, and promised a call later that evening (Friday). I went ahead and did the favor-- it wasn't a lot of money, and we've certainly loaned each other cash before-- no biggie. But that night, no call came.

So I called him Saturday morning, and questioned the fact that he hadn’t called as promised on Friday night. His response? “Yeah, well… whatever.” This is the way he thanks me for lending him money? Not a lot, mind you, but it’s the principle. I was on my way to work when I called, so I couldn't really talk, and that "whatever" comment really pissed me off, but he promised to call Saturday night and catch me up on everything (bearing in mind, he’s still in Florida and it’s been two weeks now, and he’s supposed to be coming home Sunday night). No call came on Saturday.

Sunday I was busy all day with errands and projects, but I did receive two voice mails from him. The first stated that he was, in fact, coming home that night as scheduled, despite the fact that yet another one of his aunts died. The second voice mail said he would be arriving the evening, and his mother-- his mother!!!-- was coming with him, and that he’d call later that evening. Needless to say, no call came.

In fact, no call came until Monday late—about 12:30 a.m. (actually Tuesday). The message was simple, “I just got up… call me.”

Was he home? Did his mother come with him? Where was she staying? How long would she be here? Why in anyone’s right mind would they come up from Florida to Chicago in the midst of the worst winter we’ve had in years? Why was it up to me to call him? And why was I being put at the bottom of his priority list? These questions still remain unanswered, as he has not left any messages. He calls, but doesn’t leave messages. I called his cell phone Thursday morning, and it rang and rang, finally going to voice mail. I chose not to leave a message.

He probably still has no idea it’s over. Or, he suspects it’s over and is trying to avoid having to hear it.

In my next post: “What have you learned, Dorothy?” and “Fine-tuning my preferences.”

Favorite Things Friday.

I feel that some of my postings can be a little negative. I posted recently about things and people I'm sick of. I often tell tales of worry, fear, problems, etc. So to remedy that, I've instituted Favorite Things Friday, which will focus on things I have, or want, or enjoy, or love.

And here is the first....

Harlequin dinnerware.

It was manufactured by the Homer Laughlin Company (the same folks who brought us the much-more-famous Fiestaware) and sold exclusively through Woolworth's starting in the late 1930's and fading out sometime in the early 1960's. There was a re-issue in 1978 or so that did not have the popularity that was hoped for. There are a total of 12 Harlequin colors: rose, turquoise blue, yellow, gray, chartreuse, maroon, tangerine (called "red" by the pros), light green, dark green, medium green, spruce green, and mauve blue. More info here, with lots of pictures.

I own well over 100 pieces of Harlequin, including teacups and saucers and dinner plates in every one of the 12 colors. I also have lots of specialty pieces, including a teapot, a pitcher, an ashtray, and several gravy boats.

I much prefer Harlequin to Fiesta because of the more angular, art-deco look. And the colors are much more interesting in the Harlequin. I have been known to serve a complete meal for 8 using my Harlequin dishes, and yes, I put them in the dishwasher... how cavalier of me! But I love the stuff, and I display it in my kitchen in a large cabinet that I made.

And here is something interesting... perhaps the colors of these dishes have something to do with why I want this sweater vest?

'Nuff Said Thursday.

Here's something lovely to look at.

Oh, and by the way, I'm single again. More on this story when I have time.

It's a good thing. Trust me.

TMI Tuesday.

Wow, this is a pretty lame set of questions...

1. Which one turns you on more Ink or piercing? Why?

And this is why this is one of the worst TMI Tuesdays ever. Because there is an assumption that everyone prefers either ink or piercing. I detest them both. Heartily.


Piercing... well, the occasional earlobe (and only one per earlobe, please) is okay, but so 1993. I was more than a little turned off by Daniel Day-Lewis at the Golden Globes, with two oversized hoops hanging from his ears. "Daniel, Mr. T called... he wants his earrings back."

Regarding tattoos, I guess it's the neat-and-orderly Virgo in me, but I find it gross and unfortunate that people choose to permanently have a picture drawn on their skin. To me, nothing is sexier than a completely naked body... when there is a tattoo, no matter where, that person is no longer naked in my eyes.

2. What ink do you have? If none, what would you get and and where?

I have none, I want none, I would never get any.

3. What piercing do you have? If none, what would you get and and where?

Again, no way. Yuck.

4. Any other adornments you like to do for your lover or have then do for you?

They're not necessary for me. On a lover, I would find them a real turn-off. I wouldn't do any of these for my lover (okay, maybe one ear piercing-- but that's it).

5. Of all of the above is there anything that is an immediate Turn-Off?

ALL of the above.

Bonus (as in optional): If money/work place rules/your life/whatever what ALL would you do to your body in the name of sexual or just general adornment?

Well, the question is clearly missing the words "were no object," but I get the idea. And the answer is nothing. I might invest in a personal trainer and a home gym to work out in, but that's merely for weight loss / strength training, not adornment.

'Nuff Said Monday.

Don't know who this is. But he's hot!

A Twenty-Something in the Body of a Sixty-Something.

This is not about my gastro-intestinal issues (pun intended), because that's just graphic and gross. I am having a colonoscopy and a gastroscopy on the 27th of February. That's all I need to say about that.

No, this is about symptoms that strike a familiar chord for me. The timeline follows...

1994: I have a severe pinching pain in my back that renders me nearly immobile. I see a chiropractor, who does no x-rays and simply treats the pain-- poorly.

1998: The years have not been kind. I have lots of back, neck, shoulder, and arm pain, and frequent headaches. An MRI reveals two things: a ruptured disc between vertebrae C6 and C7 (in the neck or cervical spine) as well as a defect known as a Chiari I Malformation, which is present from birth but does not cause problems until adulthood, around the 30's or so. (In a Chiari malformation, the base of the brain is too large for the skull and begins to force its way through the foramen magnum, or the hole at the base of the skull, putting pressure on the spinal cord and restricting the flow of cerebral-spinal fluid. See picture at left.) The disc situation is the one that is urgent, so I have surgery to repair it. A small piece of my hipbone is removed and used as a spacer between the two vertebrae, as the disc is indeed ruptured and all but turned to dust by now. The piece of hipbone will fuse with the two vertebrae, creating one strong vertebrae. Success. Back pain gone. I am back to work in 5 weeks.

2001: I begin experiencing weird pains in my head when I laugh hard, cough, or even strain to have a BM. The pains feel like the flow of blood is being temporarily stopped somewhere on the top right side of the head. I nearly collapse during a performance of "Someone Who'll Watch Over Me," in which I am performing. The pain happens during the same scene at every performance of the show-- when I am excessively straining in a "fearful" moment of the script. My doctor suggests it's migraines and prescribes a variety of different medicines over a four-month period. The pains seem to come under control.

2003: I am having trouble swallowing. I must take small bites and chew my food excessively. I begin having the head pains again. I start to research Chiari Malformations and discover that many of my symptoms match up. I ask my doctor if he agrees, and he does. I see a neurosurgeon. In April, just 2 weeks before the opening of "A Chorus Line," of which I am the musical director and pianist (and sole accompanist mostly), I have brain surgery. In this procedure, the doctor removes a bit of the skull near the foramen magnum, allowing more room for the brain in an effort to improve the flow of cerebro-spinal fluid. My recovery takes longer than the week the surgeon predicted; fortunately, subsitute pianists are found for the show's opening weekend. I only miss about three weeks of work.

2005: I have lots of neck, back, shoulder and arm pain. The cervical-spinal fusion from 1998 has apparently failed-- the bones did not fuse. A second procedure is performed. This time a titanium plate is added to hold the two vertebrae and hipbone fragment together. This is followed by 6 weeks of physical therapy and the use of a bone-growth stimulator, which I wear twice a day and which uses electrical impulses to stimulate the fusion of the bones. I am off work for 8 weeks.

2008: The symptoms of both the spinal discomfort as well as the Chiari have all returned. I am having headaches, intra-cranial pressure in the back of my head, sore back, neck, right shoulder, right shoulder blade, and down the right arm. My doctor has ordered an MRI of the brain and the cervical spine-- with and without contrast dye.

Wailing and gnashing of teeth to follow.

Next up... job and hobby fun.

I Want This Sweater Vest!

Kanye West in a colorful sweater vest he has been seen in frequently,

here in an appearance on Entourage.

It's so me, it's great for spring... a little "Partridge Family Bus," perhaps, but still. It's kind of Mondrian.

I want it. Tell me, Kanye West, where did you get it? It would be so cute on me!

Shirley and Reuben agree.

Anyone have any idea? My guess is Vuitton, but I really don't know.

Joe Gerard Has Died.

First, it was Sam the Butcher from The Brady Bunch. Then Emily Hartley from The Bob Newhart Show.

Now, actor David Groh, who played the hunky construction-worker husband of Valerie Harper on Rhoda, has died at the age of 68. He was an early crush of mine. Hunky, hairy... often in a velour bathrobe or his trademark blue jeans and blue work shirt...

Sorry, I got distracted there for a minute.

Rest in peace, Joe.

Time to Catch Up.

Okay, I've been away faaaaaar too long. Besides frustrating computer issues at home (although I do have internet access now, my computer is running extremely slow), I've been overwhelmed with all kinds of extraneous diversions. Rather than do one endless post about them, I'll post individually on what's been going on in various facets of my life.

We'll start with the boyfriend...

We've reached the 3-month mark, and according to Stephen (whose expertise I respect and trust), the 3-month, 6-month, and 9-month points in that first year of a relationship tend to be characterized by events or situations which reveal a great deal to us about each other. Truer words were never spoken.

On January 31, Boyfriend disappeared. I spent a frantic 24 hours trying to call him, with no response. This is not like him in any way. Finally, the evening of February 1 my phone rang. He was calling from Florida! He had told me previously that his aunt was in a coma and was not expected to survive. Turns out his brother (who had a huge work project and could not get away until Tuesday) put Boyfriend on a Greyhound bus for Orlando. Why a bus? Because getting a flight out was near impossible, with the impending storm (which closed many schools and even the public library where I work). BF could not call me from the bus because he had inadvertently packed his phone in his suitcase and couldn't get to it. Even when the bus made a stop in Atlanta for a cleaning, the driver flatly refused to allow BF to get his luggage, as security restrictions forbid any luggage removal until the final destination is reached. Why couldn't BF just use a payphone? He doesn't know my number-- it's programmed into his phone. Damn modern conveniences!

So, he would be in Florida indefinitely (sort of waiting for the comatose aunt to die), and would call me daily. His entire family was there (his mother-- with whom he has a dreadful relationship-- and many aunts, uncles and cousins)... apparently this is a Latino thing. The family gathers, waits, worries, and eventually mourns together. There was a lot of healing for BF and his family, even Mom, who disowned him when he came out and who treats him like a black sheep. There were lots of long-held family secrets that were finally revealed, lots of hurt put to rest, and in the end, it was a really positive experience in many ways. The aunt died Saturday the 9th, the visitation and funeral were this week, and BF is due to return tomorrow... barring flight cancellations due to the next winter storm they are predicting.

So our first Valentine's Day was spent far apart, although he did call me first thing in the morning to whisper sweet nothings in my ear. And he had originally planned to return Wednesday night immediately after the funeral, but again the Latino way dictates that the family remain together for an appropriate period of post-funerial mourning. His leaving abruptly after the funeral would have offended his family and undone a lot of the positive things that had happened. I understand this.

My big issue from day one was why he didn't call me before getting on the bus? Well, he literally had 45 minutes to pack, ask a neighbor to take care of the dogs, gather his essential belongings, get picked up by his brother and taken to the Greyhound station. I told my therapist that if it were me, I would have called him immediately and left a message. My therapist reminded me that I was looking at this through the template of how it made me feel and how I would handle it if it were me, rather than through the template of how BF acts and reacts and deals with crisis. Good point. And it provides an opportunity for me to have a healthy dialog in the future about including one another in all matters communicative.

Next up... my health. (Oy.)

Triumphant TMI Tuesday Return!

My internet issues are temporarily solved at home. Apparently, something is wrong with my ethernet card, since I can get online using USB. In addition, a lineman has been dispatched to look at the uptake on the outside cable. Wow, did I really say and understand all that? I'm a-skeert by that.

Anyway, it's TMI Tuesday, and I'm back. Onward...

1. By what nickname(s) were you known as a child?

My mom called me "Doug the Bug" and sometimes DJ. My siblings called me Dougary... a nickname I hated then, but sort of like now.

2. Do you have a favorite poem and, if so, what is it? Recite it (or a snippet) here, please.

"The Road Not Taken" by Robert Frost

Two roads diverg'd in a wood and I

I took the road less traveled by

And that has made all the difference.

3. What is your greatest regret in life, something that you failed to do that you wish you did?

Stayed single longer while I was young.

4. You are tired and hungry, but it's too late to cook. If any snack food were available to you, what would you choose and why?

If I'm wanting sweet, it's Peanut M&M's. If it's salty, it's Country Crock mac and cheese. Why? because I'm tired and hungry.

5. What is the oldest item of clothing (not jewelry!) that you wear regularly and what do you love about it?

I have a pair of black jeans that are at least 10 years years old. They're from the Gap and they have held up very well, despite some minor fraying at the bottom. They fit perfectly whether I'm skinny or a little overweight, and I'm sure people at work used to say, "He's wearing those same black jeans again." But I don't care... I love 'em!

Bonus (as in optional):Name a movie or TV show that changed your thinking or behavior.

I remember watching the tv show "Brothers" on Showtime, circa 1984, with my family. It was a series about three brothers, one of whom is gay. It was very self-affirming for me, as I had recently come out to my own brothers.

And "Battle of the Network Stars," when I saw Tom Selleck in a Speedo and my gayness was cemented. Forever. [Sigh.]