That First Kiss (or The One Where He Proves How Stupid He Really Is)

This is my submission for the 20SB January Blog Carnival.

"We are starting off the New Year thinking all about "firsts."

So, tell us about your first kiss! Sloppy, magical, awkward, non-existent? Spill it!"

Oh, Internet, the things I put myself through for your entertainment.

Let us go back to January 2007, to a time when me and Tinkerbell are not dating yet. Actually at this point neither has admitted out loud to liking the other. We are on the hallway of her floor as she has (for 2,502,713th time) stolen my cell phone. In a moment of what I thought was brilliance I held her wrists while reaching for the phone.

"I bet I can get you to let go of me."

"How is that?"

Now I had assumed she meant kneeing me in the stomach so I prepared to move out of the way. I obviously had forgotten just who exactly I was dealing with and a lesson around Tinkerbell is to always always ALWAYS expect the unexpected. Before I really knew what was happening, she had leaned up and kissed me.

Folks if anyone had taken a picture of us at that moment here's what they would have seen.

Me with the single most pole-axed look I think I had ever had in my life and one hand absently touching my lips.

Tinkerbell with a smug grin on her face as she stepped out of my loose grip.

Because I was convinced there was no way she could like me in that way, I reasoned to myself she was merely playing around. Despite the fact that EVERY. LAST. ONE. of our friends told us to stop going in circles and start dating. Hell, one mutual friend actually refused to speak to us until we had started dating.

God, I was such an utterly clueless bastard.

But wait, it gets better.

Now I had been too surprised (which I want to beat myself for in hindsight) to kiss her back but my chance came about a week and a half later. She had walked me down to my floor as my knee had decided it wanted to be a bitch and was thus concerned I would fall down the steps. Now what she could have really done if I had aside from calling 911 I don't know but it's the thought that counts right?

Anyway, I digress.

So we're standing outside the door and I looked at her and now knowing that she did like me I decided 'to hell with it' and kissed her. I don't know about fireworks but I was most definitely lightheaded after we broke apart. We were both slightly out of breath and me being who I am just have to say something to ruin the moment.

"[Tinkerbell], what the hell are we?"

Yes, you did read that correctly.

To her credit, she merely laughed at my question instead of slugging me in the face.

Instead she has deigned not to let me live that down two years later.

Le sigh.

I Wonder If Amazon Deals In Troublesome Organs

Me and my stomach have a long standing rivalry. So severe that it has been in a state of rebellion since Thanksgiving 2006. Quite honestly, there are days (like oh today for example) where just the thought of eating is enough to send me to the bathroom and emptying whatever I have in my stomach at the time.

It's not purposeful.

I just have no appetite. Almost starting to forget what one felt like.

It scares my friends immensely. Tinkerbell admitted that she was terrified the next time she would see me would be my funeral. Before we started dating, Eva would convince (read: manipulate) me to come over for dinner under the excuse of her needing a study partner. The Bait and Pippi would drag me to lunch after Mass every week. And because I hate to make the people I love worry, I would make myself eat.

And more often than not, throw it all up later.

It is so strange to see old pictures of myself where I weighed about 250 to know when I weigh 190 when full of water. Scary part? This time last year I was 170 but I basically forced myself (with help) to eat and exercise enough that I gained back about 15 pounds of muscle.

The worst part of all this?

That although I know my friends only worry because they love me, sometimes they go about it in very wrong ways. When Eva and Imogen cornered me over the break and started in on me needed to eat more I tried to get away. When they wouldn't let me without me pushing them (which they and I knew I wouldn't do) I started to panic. Then Eva suggested they make me weigh in front of them.

I fucking lost it at that point. And while I did apologize later, I made sure they understood that I meant it when I basically said that them doing that made me feel like livestock. I also thanked them for caring about me. It was kind of tears all around from there.

So when people (mostly women) say they would like to trade stomachs with me, I make sure they know what they would be getting themselves into.

1. Cramping (I've lost count of how many times I've lain awake at night in tears because my stomach was cramping. Now consider the fact that I can dislocate my shoulder and pop it back with only a grimace.)
2. Complete loss of appetite (Say goodbye to any holiday meal. Haven't had more than a few bites at a holiday since July 4, 2006.)
3. Acid (When you decide not to eat, your stomach AKA that treacherous bitch decides to punish you by letting you deal with that constant burning feeling in your stomach. The burning that gets worse when you feel bile rise up.)

So anyone still willing to trade?

So Hard To Say Goodbye

What follows is a speech I wrote/ad-libbed for Mass this morning to say goodbye to Father Oaks, who passed away after fighting liver cancer for four years. Only names and locations have been changed.

"There is little more difficult than letting someone into your life, caring for them, opening up. To do so seems to go against the trend of weariness and caution so many of us develop over the course of our lifetimes. And as hard as it is, saying goodbye is that much more arduous.

I remember sitting in the office before the 7:30 service this morning, trying to figure out how to honour this man who had so very much for so many of us. What could Father Cherry have been thinking when he asked me to do this? I guess he figured I would not try and hide my emotions, something anyone will tell you isn't really a strong point of mine.

Compared to many of those gathered here this morning, I barely knew him. I first met Father Oaks in the summer of 2007 while I have spoken to some whom have known this amazing man from the time they were children back in the 70's. I can't touch on that knowledge but I can share with you all what I do know. The man who I have watched let the little ones braid his hair. Who gave his all to any who needed help. Who always had an open office policy with a ready ear and a warm smile waiting.

I have met few men more humble, more open, than Father Oaks. A true class act, it has been an honour and a privilege to know him. He did his best to prove that he was just a regular man and in doing so proved how much a treasure he truly was. He was a fellow fan of Charlie Brown and the Peanuts gang, a country music fan going back to the days of Little Jimmy Dickens, and quite possibly the biggest fishing aficionado I have ever met.

It is impossible to list all the achievements of his 63 years on this Earth. And it is just as impossible to describe that man with one story. But I have to try my best. It was back in March of this past year and I was in Father Oak's office as he was asking about how I enjoy my first Sunday school class. I don't fully remember how we got onto the subject but we ended up speaking about perseverance. He knew my past and in light of that, told me something that morning that will stay with me until the day I die. 'That faith isn't faith until it's all you're holding on to.' And coming from a man who had seen the worst of humanity as a medic in the Vietnam War, I could not really argue that.

Father Oaks was a man who stressed more than anything else a certain love for your fellow man. Who believed in giving his all in his every endeavor. But lastly, he was a man who believed that even when a situation was its darkest, all we could do was stand up, smile, and walk forward. And as I fully believe that you are home behind the pearly gates, I have a message for you.

Thank you for all you've done and we will do our best to try and fill the enormous shoes you left behind. You are loved and you will be missed. Know that you left us in good hands."

Somehow I made it through without my voice cracking. Seeing the people who I spend hours with every week, who I have gotten to know through my time in the church, hug those around them when a fresh burst of tears hit them. I watched as others stood up to share their own tales. I saw our organist playing her heart out after benediction, despite the tears running without hint of shame down her cheeks. This one man had touched us all.

That, my friends, is real power.


Photo courtesy of The Bait

Wednesday Workshop: For the Love of a Puppy

It's that time again folks! My assignment from Mama Kat this week goes as follows:

"Tell us about your pet! If you have a weird infatuation with your dog or cat we want to hear about it (or if they just plain drive you crazy) But please don't compare them to children, it's just not the same."

5...4...3...2...1...

Back in September 2008, me, Marilyn, and Scarlett visited the local animal shelter as they were looking to adopt a kitten. I found myself wandering over to the puppies when I heard a high-pitched bark. My gaze traveled down and my eyes locked onto this tiny chocolate lab puppy. She nudged a nearby rubber pall to the edge of her pen then looked back up at me with her tail just waving away.

I would spend the next half hour playing with her. It was like playing with a chipmunk on speed. Then once she was napping on her side, tuckered out from all the excitement, I talked to the volunteer working about how much it would be to adopt her.

The next day, I came home with about 10 pounds of hyped-up puppy. Later that night, it would be Tinkerbell who suggested the name Faith for her.

While I had had dogs my entire life with the exception of when I lived in a dorm, this was the first time I had ever owned a dog that was inside a majority of the time. Paper training has been an ordeal but she's getting there even if there are still accidents on occasion. Like the one on the kitchen floor last night.

I've taught her to sit, stay, roll over, play dead, shake, and come to me.

And I've noticed in the months she's been here that Faith has developed a list of rather funny personality quirks.

Whenever she smells me cooking food, she will hop from the floor, to a chair to watch. The chair that oh so conveniently happens to face her food and water bowls. As if saying, 'when are you going to stop being a selfish bastard and feed the important one here?'

A phone ringing scares the hell out of her. I'm not even exaggerating. Normally I have my cell phone on vibrate as I don't feel like paying for a ringtone and I had the ones this phone came with. So when The Bait's rings or mine does, Faith will start to roll all over the place. If the phone is actually near her, she'll approach it, put a paw out, and then jump back like it's about to bite her on the nose.

In Faith's eyes, ANYTHING PURPLE MUST DIE. I had bought her two pillows for her bed/basket that were a deep purple colour right before Christmas. They were ripped to shreds before the week was out. I bought another of the same colour that met a similar fate. I think I've learned the lesson. No Purple. Ever.

Like most Labradors, Faith is very friendly. When she meets a new person she will follow this formula without fail. One, pace around the legs, sniffing and making little -yip- noises. Two, if they meet her approval she'll cozy up against them. Most people at this point reach down to pet her and as they do she will reach a paw up for them to shake while tilting her head. It's adorable.

On the other hand, she also seems to get a perverse sense of pleasure out of annoying The Bait. Things she has done off the top of my head include stealing his shoes, waking him up by licking inside his ear, decided that the mopped kitchen floor was a great slide and using it to slide-tackle him, and as he puts it "just being a nuisance". Despite how much he claims to dislike Faith and petition me to get her exorcised (not seriously), he does care about her as evidenced by the fact that he bought her a new pillow for her bed and a rubber penguin to play with. Said penguin has since been humped, wrestled with, and chewed six ways from Sunday.

Despite Faith having always loved Daybreak, as said child will feed her table scraps when she thinks me and her mom aren't looking, there was a period of time where Faith did not like Eva. Well maybe not so much as disliking her as her acting jealous. If me and Eva ever tried to kiss, Faith would rocket her little legs to nip that moment in the bud. She has since gotten over this issue thankfully.

My puppy is a weird little thing, at which I wonder whether she was always that way or if I just rubbed off on her. She may be exasperating at times but like pretty much every woman in my life has me totally wrapped around her finger...or paw in this case.

I learned that this puppy, who liked me upon sight, had been rather horribly abused by her previous owners. She was slowly recovering from malnourishment (and still is) and her left hind leg had been so injured that it limps. This is the same puppy who gave me the most sorrowful look when I left. The same puppy who barrels into my legs when I get home because she is so happy to see me walk through that door.

I don't regret giving her a home for a moment.

The Odd Duck's Adventures in Boston Part II

Oh, where to start?

Well I did make it to Boston Harbour and the famous Beacon Street and at that point.

I know most people need maps but I really can't stand the things while walking. I love immersing myself in a new city and today was no exception. Bostonians, I have a whole new appreciation for seafood as a result of this weekend. Especially clam chowder.

Mmm, chowder.

Er, sorry 'bout that.

I also never realized just how noticeable my accent was. The cashier told me that she had thought I was a native until I opened my mouth. I speak with a slight drawl, not really something I bother to hide unless I'm speaking Spanish.

So anyways, a big part of my day was Abi and Abo (Mami's parents and who have adopted me as a grandson since I was 12) insisting that Mami bring me by and Abi would make a big breakfast to celebrate my 21st birthday (weeks before the actual date). Three of Mami's sisters showed up for the event which was great as aside from the youngest, I hadn't seen any of them since 2003.

I was a few months shy of 15, and like many a shy teenage boy I got flustered whenever a pretty girl/woman talked to me. And I can say with no feeling of squick, that all of Mami's sisters (even Mami) are pretty bordering on gorgeous. Thankfully I was older this time and could just easily deflect their teasing.

Yes I was shy at one point.

You can hold your shock, thank you very much.

As for the actual meal, if nothing else then Abi proved that I had decades before I could claim the title of a good cook. I was humbled. Completely.

French toast with strawberry topping and powdered sugar.

Scrambled eggs.

Boiled sausage.

And all in humongous portions as this family can eat. I got jabbed none too gently with a fork by Mami's youngest older sister when I made the joke that one could have lost a hand in that anarchy.

All in all it was a wonderful quasi-surprise.

I hit the road after that for a trip filled with me singing like I was trying to win American Idol, changing a spare tire, and learning that I still have a filthy mouth when pushed. And folks, driving 45 on the interstate most definitely counts as being pushed.

Now I'm back home where I was mobbed by my puppy as soon as I picked her up from Marilyn and Scarlett. I'm back where the weather is above 30 degress.

I'm happy to be back.

On second thought, classes start back up Tuesday.

That happy feeling? Yeah, it just went down the crapper.

Boston, I miss you.

The Odd Duck's Adventures in Boston Part I

As some of you know, I packed up my car, filled the tank, and hit the road for Boston Friday at like 3 in the morning. I had my mapquest directions in hand, the iPod was playing a steady stream of music, and there was barely any traffic.

Folks, anyone who tells you that driving isn't tiring is lying through their crooked teeth. It took me about 12 and a half hours to make it here and by the time I did, I was nearly exhausted.

For those of you who have been reading more than a few weeks, you know I have no problems striking up conversations with strangers. You would be surprised how some people open up when asked.

I stopped in Hartford, CT for gas yesterday afternoon and spend maybe 20 minutes speaking with two women a few years older than me about the city and they in turn grilled me about where I was from as I marked myself a Southerner the moment "y'all" slipped out my mouth. They even told me a faster way to make it back to the highway as I was a bit turned around.

I checked into a Holiday Inn here around 6 and called R to tell her I made it and would meet her at her office to go surprise Mami. The plan was that R would lead Mami outside to the car with R covering her eyes where I would be waiting. They came outside with Little Miss I and Little Mister G in Mami's arms and when her eyes landed on me, I could only watch in amusement as the babies were handed off to R so Mami could do her level best to squeeze the life out of me.

She doesn't know I noticed, but I could see the dampness on her cheeks.

I was then introduced to my godchildren and although Little Mister G stayed asleep, Little Miss I was curious and stared at me with wide brown eyes. I gave her my finger which she immediately latched onto and squirmed with an odd cooing sound, not quite giggling, as I rubbed my nose against hers in an eskimo kiss.

I demanded offered to make dinner for everyone as I knew they were exhausted from work on R's part and taking care of two newborns, fresh from the hospital. Chicken fajitas were the order of the day which was more difficult than anticipated with Little Mister G deciding my shirt needed decoration and throwing up on my chest. Thankfully years of dealing with baby cousins had taught me a few things and one is to always ALWAYS have a change of clothes handy.

Letting them go to sleep, I caught a taxi back to my hotel (my first time ever doing so) and was knocked out as soon as my head hit the pillows.

So far I've taken this morning to explore the city as I've all ready been to Acorn Street, Trinity Church, and parts of MIT's campus. I feel flashbacks to Italy as I am just wandering around, occasionally asking people about the buildings around me. I think my next stop of interest is Boston harbour and then finding some breakfast. Yeah, that sounds like a plan.

Well folks I shall be signing off now as I am writing this outside of a cafe downtown. I'll be back either tonight or tomorrow with part two of my adventures here.

Happy trails!

A Tale of Bucks, Pups, and a Kiss for Luck

And hello 2009!

My New Year's Eve was spent with Eva, Daybreak, and The Devil A. K. A. my puppy. We played Monopoly. Me against team of Eva and Daybreak. I still say there was some money being slipped out of the bank but I'm not bitter.

Really.

More like impressed that they weren't caught.

You know the row between Jail/Just Visiting and Free Parking? Yeah that was death for me. By the end of the game, there was a hotel on New York Ave., Tennessee Ave., and St. James Place. To make matters worse, there were 3 houses on the purple properties whose names escape me at the moment.

Like I said, death.

I tried to fight back in other areas of the board but after landing on two hotels back-to-back and needing to mortgage one set of my houses, the game was pretty much over.

Then to add insult to injury, Daybreak takes a handful of their winnings, fans them out in her hands and gives her best attempt at a diabolical laugh. If you remember the classic nicktoon Rugrats, think Angelica's.

After my humiliating defeat we watched Mrs. Doubtfire and then Mulan, during which Daybreak fell asleep curled up against Eva's lap. After getting her ready for bed and then tucked in, we sat on the couch and sat talking for the last half hour of 2008.

When my clock struck 12, I put my hand on her cheek and kissed her. She put her arms around my neck and we stayed that way for a long minute, leaning our foreheads against each other after breaking apart.

Not a bad end to 2008. Not bad at all.