Moving Right Along

~ riggledo ~ 1 Comment

OMG!!!!  OK.  I was going to write a post today about how I’m frustrated that I haven’t written in five days and how I really want to write something but I want it to be fun and spiffy and make you laugh and be uplifted and happy but I can’t do that because I’m just so pissed off about a situation at work that I really don’t even want to talk about but would probably have to in order to get it out of my head and off my chest and beg your forgiveness for spewing so much anger (read: hate) and vitriol for my boss and most of my coworkers and my customers and my job and my employer and my life during that part of the day and it was not going to be one big run on sentence like this has been but now I have something else entirely that I have to address and really this is a good thing…  <passes out from lack of breathing.>

I didn’t watch the Miss USA pageant.  I may not be living up to my stereotype because of this and that’s funny to me because when I was young and “straight” and living with my conservative, republican, Christian mother we watched the beauty pageants all the time.  There were chicks in bikinis after all and maybe that proved I was straight… to someone.  Anyway, I’ve outgrown my keen interest in such things and decided I have too many shows piling up in my DVR as it is and I was not going to watch the pageant.  So naturally, I missed a big moment because I wasn’t watching…  Well, I don’t guess I can say I missed a big moment because you can hardly shake your ass without bumping into a news “story” (more like non-story) about Miss California’s response to stupid Perez Hilton’s question about her position on Gay Marriage.

I would have thought that, here, three days later, this would be old news and I’d be behind the times. Sadly, not so much.  You see, the multi-hair-colored troll, to whom no one should be listening and should never have been given a slot as a judge at the pageant in the first place, asked the contestant a perfectly legitimate question, but, she gave a perfectly legitimate answer and she should not be hassled, harangued or otherwise criticized for her response.  Hilton has been quoted as saying that she should have left her politics & religion out of her answer.  The midget asked her a political question, how could she have answered it any way other than with her politics?  And let’s not kid ourselves; everyone knows that our politics are influenced by our religion.  Truly, Miss California could not possibly have answered that question any way other than how she did.

Perez Hilton has made a living out of hate mongering and slander and now he wants to hold Miss California accountable for expressing her true feelings and beliefs in response to a question he asked which was clearly designed to promote his own agenda and beliefs.

Many people seem to have lost sight of the true meaning of the interview portion of the competition.  There was no right or wrong answer to Mr. Hilton’s question.  The judges are not in a position to judge the worthiness of the contestants’ belief system and how it may or may not live up to the expectations, or message of the Miss USA organization.  If the expectation of the organization is for the individual ladies to live up to a certain belief structure, well… First of all, that changes the nature of the organization and turns it into a political lobby or maybe an occult of some sort.  (You must believe the way I believe or you can’t be here…  Wait, that sounds like a lot of churches I’ve been to.)  And second, the organization would have an obligation to establish those expectations up front and screen the contestants prior to the competition, accordingly.  No, the point of the interview portion is not to establish the political/religious beliefs of the contestants.  The point of the interview portion is to test the ladies’ ability to respond under pressure, with grace and eloquence, to questions they have not been privy to in advance.  Can the contestant speak clearly and logically in providing a response to a question they have not heard before?  That the answer provided by Miss California might have cost her the crown, based on content, is a sadder reflection on the judges of the evening than it will ever be on Miss California.

Let me be clear.  I do not agree with the beliefs that were expressed by Miss California.  I feel sad for her that she believes such hurtful things, that she apparently has accepted the beliefs of her family unquestioningly, as evidenced by her answer:

“I believe that a marriage should be between a man and a woman.  No offense to anybody out there, but that’s how I was raised and that’s how I think it should be, between a man and a woman.”

Too often, as gay people seeking equality, we drift to the other side and wish to criticize and demean anyone who doesn’t agree with our perspectives.  We’re quick to forget that just as we believe with such conviction that our perspective is the correct one, so do the conservative Christians believe theirs’ to be.  We will never come to an understanding or agreement by calling each other names and I must point out that Miss California expressed her desire not to offend anyone and stated somewhere that she does not begrudge homosexuals (that’s more than we’ll get from a lot of conservative Christians) but does not believe that marriage should be available to us.  On the other hand Mr. Hilton went on record almost as soon as the crown was placed, the tears were shed and the hugs were dispensed, as saying that Miss California is a “dumb bitch” and has continued to spread his vitriol about this poor woman and her beliefs ever since.

Maybe it’s because I’m relatively “young” and new to this whole accepting-myself-as-a-homosexual thing and I haven’t (at least not yet) been through the pain, the struggle, the fight to be accepted for who and what I am (I’m sure that day is coming as I’m not 100% out of the closet to everyone I know or ever encounter) but I do not understand the drive, the push to be angry at this woman for having the audacity to speak her truth, to say what she believes when she was asked a pointed question on the subject.

I grew up in Conservative, Republican, Christian household and have had a series of “coming outs” in my life, first as a “Liberal Republican” then as a “Conservative Democrat” and then as a “Liberal Democrat” and finally, coming out to myself and my closest friends as a homosexual, all while holding on to my own personal Christian belief system.  I have a lot of experience with separating my religious beliefs from my political ones.  As one example, I personally believe it is wrong to have an abortion.  I also believe that abortion should be legal and the option should exist.  I would like to see abortions not available because the clinics can’t afford to stay in business with so few customers, not because someone arbitrarily decided to tell women what they could or could not do with their bodies.

So, do I believe that the sentiments she expressed are wrong?  Yes!  Do I hope that she and so many others eventually will change their perspectives and accept us for who and what we are?  Absolutely!!!  But this is what she believes, and she is not wrong for believing it or for expressing it.  This is the question she was asked and bravo to her for answering it honestly!

Let’s leave poor Miss California alone and focus our energies in a direction that matters, like the fight for marriage equality and for equality in general.  This Miss California thing?  It’s really not news.  Please!  Let’s move on!

Riggledo’s Story: Mischa

~ riggledo ~ 2 Comments

I was diagnosed with clinical depression about six years ago.  I “have” what would be considered the most common form of clinical depression called Dysthymia.  Dysthymia, by definition is a “low-grade” depression that is always there, but not debilitating.  Occasionally, people with Dysthymia experience periods of major or more severe depression.  About a year and a half ago, this happened to me.

I was never suicidal, but that statement shouldn’t be misinterpreted to suggest that my depression at that time wasn’t severe.  It was a matter of nerve and a modicum of rational thinking.  I am afraid of pain.  I’m a painaphobe.  It wasn’t that I didn’t want to die, because I really did.  But I wasn’t going to kill myself because I was afraid that it would hurt.  I was afraid I’d screw it up and I wouldn’t actually die, I’d just suffer a lot of pain.  Oh yeah, and I was afraid I’d go to hell and well, that would be bad.  No, I hoped I’d be in an instantly fatal car crash or that I’d be murdered in some way that would kill me instantly and painlessly or that I’d fall asleep and somehow accidentally bury my face in my pillow and suffocate, instantly and painlessly.  I can’t emphasize enough, how important the instant and painless part was.

But even as I was feeling this way, truly wishing to not have to suffer through this torture I called a life, there was always a reason why that couldn’t be allowed to happen.  There was always something that despite my incredible despair and anguish, always kept me coming back around and remembering that I had to be here.  I would sit in my chair, feet up, television on, me staring blankly at the screen and feeling like I would bawl if only that first tear would come, heaving heavy, heavy sighs and wishing that I’d just… cease.  And then I’d hear it.  The little pitter patter.  The clickity clack of little toe nails on the hard wood floor.  And I’d hear the quite sound of his voice as he would jump up to my lap and walk right up to my face with a look on his face that told me he knew I was hurting and he would help me if he could but I couldn‘t die because he needed me.  Who would take care of him?  Who would feed him?  Who would provide him with a lap to lie in if I was to die? And then he’d lie down on my lap. He’d lie down on my lap and sleep and just be. His name is Mischa and, say what you will, but it was he who pulled me through.  It was he who made me remember that life is about more than just me.  Life is a sum of many parts.  I won’t pretend that I have it all figured out and then try to educate you.  I’m simply going to say that life is as much about the people in your life (yes, people, even the furry four-legged variety), as it is about ourselves and our own selfish worries and complaints.

Mischa has been with me since the summer before my senior year in high school.  He’s a brat and he’s bad and he’s ornery and he’s precious and loving and full of personality and he’s mine.  He’s a fixture in my life and I can’t imagine my world without him in it.  And that’s why the last two weeks or so have been really difficult.

It actually started about six months ago when he stopped eating, and started vomiting frequently.  He wasn’t drinking very much water, and he stopped moving his bowels. After four or five days of this and the vomit becoming nothing more than clear liquid, it was apparent that he wasn’t going to improve on his own and I took him to the vet.  One I’d never been to before but was recommended to me.  One who turned out to be very cute (and unfortunately, very married, if the ring on his finger is to be trusted).

Without going into too much detail (too late?) Dr. Cute Vet found that Mischa was dehydrated but otherwise showed no outward, obvious signs of illness.  They gave him a sub-cutaneous saline bubble which he absorbed almost right away and which perked him up instantly.  Blood and Urine tests revealed no abnormalities but after a couple days on a diet of baby food he resumed eating normal cat food (wet now and not the dry he’d had his whole life) and everything seemed back to normal…

Last week I noticed that he wasn’t eating as much of his food as he had previously done and after a few days of half-hearted scolding and throwing away most of the food I’d provided I made another appointment.  Monday morning Mischa and I went to see Dr. Cute Vet and it was déjà vu all over again!  Ran the same tests.  Gave him the same sub-cutaneous bubble.  This time, though, they also gave me three cans of a “prescription” cat food.  Mischa hasn’t caught on to this or he might refuse to touch the stuff but the food they gave me is feline and canine food.  It’s a formula that they typically use when they have to force feed an animal, so it’s very thin but a “whole food” for his nutritional needs.

We came home and I opened up a can of that food, put some in his bowl and without hesitation he went to town.  He ate an entire can of this food on Monday so Tuesday morning I gave him a can of his old food in the hopes that he’d gotten over his issue.  I came home from work Tuesday and he hadn’t touched it, so I gave him the new food and he chowed down.  Tuesday evening Dr. Cute Vet called me to give me the results of his lab tests which were that everything was normal.  The next step was to do x-rays which I scheduled for this afternoon.  I wish I hadn’t.

When I walked into the building there were three women in the waiting area speaking in Spanish with one of the nurses/office staff.  After a minute or two, someone came out of the back with a small-ish breed dog, wrapped in a towel and looking forlorn.  He held the dog out to the oldest of the three ladies and then I heard the nurse say, “She changed her mind.  She’s going to have him put down.”  The dog had been attacked by a larger dog and had a severe wound in its neck.  This was explained to me by the other nurse/office staff person who took Mischa and me into Exam room 1.  I was grateful for this because I didn’t think I could handle being in the waiting room when the gentleman brought the euthanized dog back to the ladies.  The animal’s wound was treatable but costly, and the decision was made to euthanize him instead.  This made me angry and it makes me angry all over again now.

Standing in the waiting room, waiting for the nurse to conclude the business with these ladies and get to me, holding the cat carrier bag in my hand and hearing the nurse say, “They’ve decided to have him put down” was like a stab in the heart for me.   You see, the day is coming when I’ll have to make that decision for Mischa.  To quote Captain Piccard, “There are fewer days ahead than there are behind.”

It won’t be the first time I’ve had a pet that’s reached the end of its happy, healthy days and must, for the sake of humanity, be allowed to slip away from its painful existence.  Over my 33 years of life, there have been seven or eight.  But when that time comes for Mischa, and it is coming, it will be the first time that I will have to be the one to make that decision.  It will be the first time that I will have to carry my beloved companion into the office, hear the tragic conclusion of the doctor’s evaluation and concede that I must, indeed, allow him to be freed from his pain.  It will be the first time that an animal that has placed his trust and love and life in my hands will then lie in my arms and look into my eyes as it breathes its last breath.

I am not prepared.  My heart is breaking a little right now as I write this and I’m a little surprised to find tears flowing at this very moment.  With these last two experiences of his health being less than ideal and having to plod through the experience of waiting, of not knowing, of worrying, I’ve had lots of time to think about the what-ifs.  I’ve had time to  consider that I might have to make this decision today.  This might be the day I leave the house with him and come home without him. I can’t say that I thought I was ready, because I know I’m not.  I can’t say I know exactly what I’m going to do.

The good news is that Mischa has continued to eat well on the food they gave me.  His coat actually looks better and healthier than it has in the last six months which suggests that the food I’ve been feeding him (highly respected brand though it is) has not been doing it for him.  He has become energetic again even spending a little time playing with his toys. In visiting with Dr. Cute Vet before the planned x-rays I was conveying the changes in Mischa’s behavior since Monday and said, “Actually, he seems like he’s doing really well.  He’s eating much better.  He’s gotten more energetic and he’s even playing with his balls again.”

There are four small-ish, faux fur covered balls with bells inside floating around my house and occasionally Mischa takes to chasing one.  Even before the sentence was out of my mouth I realized what I was saying and I’m sure my entire shaved  head was bright red as I said, “Well that didn’t sound good at all.”  To his credit, Dr. Cute Vet was completely nonplussed by my blunder.  It was actually a nice moment of levity following the experience I’d had in the waiting room.

After re-examining Mischa and hearing of his improvements, Dr. Cute Vet suggested that maybe we should hold off on the x-rays and wait to see how he does.  If he takes a turn for the worse we’ll go back, otherwise, we won’t bother.  And if, God forbid there should be a next time, we will do the x-rays then.

According to the chart on the wall at Cute Vet’s office, Mischa who has lived for 17 calendar years is the equivalent of an 82 year old human, and honestly for 82, he’s looking pretty good.  But at 82 years old, things can change in the blink of an eye.  The day is coming.  I just hope I’m ready.

I’m All Aflutter

~ riggledo ~ 2 Comments

My heart is aflutter.  It may be the asthma medicine I just inhaled that always makes me jittery.  On the other hand it may be my nerves.  You see, I just had a thought.  And, well, that in itself is an accomplishment, but even more aflutter making, is what the thought was.  But I’m getting ahead of myself a little.  Let me share with you something I wrote six months ago on an old blog:

“Hi.  I’m Jesse.  I’ve been assigned to walk around with you during the fire drills” he said.  He’s a rookie firefighter.  Been on the job for three years.  Can’t be much more than 26-27 years old.  He’s 6′2″ ish with piercing blue eyes the color of the sky.

I work for the Facility Management office of a 25 story high-rise building in the Lake Merritt district of Downtown Oakland, California.  Twice a year we conduct Fire Drills and we always invite a crew from the Fire Department to come and observe.  My boss always assigns a fire fighter to the staff members and today I got Jesse.

In the fourth and final segment of today’s drills I was assigned to the fourth floor for observation where I saw an old acquaintance of mine searching the floor for stragglers.  Her name is Connee and she’s from Niagara Falls, NY.  I LOVE her.  She’s a sweet little older lady who has always been very nice to me.  After searching and then evacuating the floor we met up in the park across the street where we waited for the announcement that it was time to return to the building.  I was chatting with her when Jesse returned to my side and she asked, “What’s your name Mr. Gorgeous Blue Eyes?”

“Kevin.”  Jesse answered.  “Just kidding.  I’m Jesse.”

Connee laughed.  “Oh I thought you were going to tell me you both had the same name.”

“Wait,” I said.  “Does that mean I have Gorgeous blue eyes, too? –  Never mind.”

“Yep.  That’s what I was saying.” He replied.

Now you see, this is where I fall short as a “newly” gay man.  This guy was cute.  I liked him.  I’d have been interested in talking to him more.  But I never thought he was gay.  Still don’t know that he is.  But here’s what his comment suggests to me.  He thought I had nice eyes.  Had been thinking it all along, and Connee gave him an opportunity to bring it up and see what happens.  But because I’m insecure, and an idiot nothing happened.  I don’t know how to react in a situation like that?

So I’m looking for advice.  What should I have done?  And I’m seriously asking, so no smart ass, “You shoulda jumped on top of him” kind of responses.  How could have I have conveyed to him that I was interested without making the scene crunchy if I had misinterpreted his statement?

What, Mr. Reader, would you have done?

I was so caught off guard when he said what he did.  I couldn’t believe it was happening and was sure I was misreading something.  That night I had a therapy session and I talked about what happened.  My therapist said to me, “For future reference, when a guy says you have nice eyes, he is flirting”

So what is it that set me aflutter?  We are due for our semi-annual fire drills next week. As I mentioned in the post above, my boss always pairs one of the fire fighters with one of his staff members for the drills.  It’s almost always a different set of guys (occasionally a gal) so there’s no reason to think Jesse will be here and if he is, I may or may not get paired up with him again.  But the thought suddenly occurred to me, a moment ago, that I might see Jesse again.

What set me aflutter is the idea that I might get a second chance at this, and the realization that I’m not any more prepared to handle it now than I was then.

Also, what might have me aflutter is the fact that I’ve used the world “aflutter” six times in this post.

Neither Rollerblades Nor A Jet Pack

~ riggledo ~ 1 Comment

I walked into the office hacking and coughing, as I have been doing for the last two weeks, sat down at my desk and started up my computer for the day’s work.  No sooner had I started running my applications then an instant message window popped up on my screen.

“Whadya pick?  Whadya pick?  It’s April! Whadya pick?  Huh? Huh?”  It was K and she wanted to know what I had decided on for the April Fad of the Month.  I am inherently a mean person and therefore told her she would have to wait and find out with the rest of  you.  That was three days ago.

Then I said, “I’ve decided to change the direction of my blog and make the focus all about how nothing really works and so I’ll claim to be trying all these different things but meanwhile I won’t really do anything and then I’ll claim that it didn’t work.”

“That’s no fun,” she said.

I was kidding of course.  I would never do that.  I’m entirely too honest and ethical to do that, even if I wanted to… mean, but honest and ethical.  I’m well rounded.  Anyway, since I know you’re all waiting with bated breath, I will now reveal the April/May Fad of the Month(s).

As I mentioned in a previous post I live in a really beautiful part of country.  The weather this time of year is really nice and I’m close to the water, and the hills and lots of beautiful scenery, so I decided that I should take advantage of these benefits and do something that involved physical and potentially outdoor activity.

I know that K in particular is positively salivating to know what I’ve decided on, and it is for that reason more than any other, that I am dragging this out.  But without much further ado, I will now reveal that I have decided that the April/May Fad of the months will be *cough, cough* running.

A few years ago, K discovered a program that was designed to teach someone who is not athletic how to run.  Many people make a decision to start running having never done it before and they start out too hard too fast and give up quickly because of the challenges they endure.  K, by her own description, when she started running was an “Unsvelt Girl Who Runs”.  She took on this challenge because, if for no other reason, people told her she couldn’t do it.  Today, K can run at a steady pace for a prolonged period of time and has run several races in the Bay Area.

K was never focused on, or working toward, weight loss.  She was simply determined to prove to people who said she couldn’t do it, that indeed she could.  But along the way, she has lost weight, and several sizes.  The other day, I happened across a picture of her that was taken at a work event four years ago and showed it to her.  There is a marked difference in her appearance today as compared to that picture.

In the beginning K felt the same way I do.  Running is not something that I do.  Part of the reason is simply that I do not know how to do it properly and every time I have ever tried, I have very quickly developed shin splints and side stitches and pretty quickly tired myself out.  As a result my determination has always been, “You will not find me running unless there is a bear chasing me and it’s on a steep decline…  And I’m wearing roller blades… potentially a jet pack… and then it’s not really running, now is it?  No, running was never in the cards and to be honest, I’m still not sure it is.  I’ll do it purely for the sake of this blog and the edification of you fine people.

How I feel about it at the end of the nine weeks will determine if I ever run again! There is a problem, however, that has prevented me from going full speed ahead on this.  I was sick for more than a week, and even now, I’m still struggling with the lingering, hacking cough.  Today is the first day in three weeks that I haven’t been coughing incessantly.  And yet, while playing my Wii Sports, I’m constantly stopping to cough.  My common sense tells me that running, which I believe will require more of my breathing abilities, and in the outdoors, is sure to aggravate the cough far more than the exertions of waving my arm around in the air striking a virtual tennis ball while my on-screen Mii does all the running back and forth!  So while it may have seemed as if I might have been slacking off or abandoning my endeavors and readers, I assure you this is not the case!  I am feeling much better today and hopefully within a few days I’ll be much improved and able to get outside and give this thing a shot.

In the mean time, bear with me.  Oh!  And K?  You can stop gloating now!