The REAL Letter to Ellen...

I had to condense my original letter which was pretty nice, down to 1500 words or fewer, that includes spaces! So...Here is the abridged version that I actually did send to Ellen today. There was a "Dear Ellen" at the top, but I had to cut it! LOL

Four years ago, I had it all. When the economy went down it took me with it, my home, my business, everything. Since then, I have fallen in love and become engaged to a wonderful woman, Caroline. She lives in England, and I am in California. She can’t live here legally, but I can go there. I am working hard to make that happen, and although things are tough, I have received a lot of help from my friends.

Elizabeth has let me live in her home, and sacrificed half her garage to let me have a work-shop for the past year and a half RENT FREE, and I feel my debt to her is enormous. I often think “there but for the grace of god go I” when I see homeless people.

Tauni spent $600 on veterinary care for my dog Winston, to get him what he needs to be able to travel to the UK without being quarantined for 6 months. She has also hired me to do some work for her, and insisted on paying when I’d have done it for nothing.

Faye and Sarah have sent me $200 American cash, through the post from England so that I could get my passport application in, and I never asked them for a thing. They are both currently unemployed, and with two kids, six cats, and a dog, it might as well have been $2000!

Even though my life is really hard right now, between Caroline, and my friends, I have never felt so lucky! I am going to find a way to get to Caroline, and marry her, but if you could help me thank the people who’ve given so much to help me, it would be incredible!

Kindest regards, Tracy

The 5th C

Some of you may recall, or may have to go back and read my post about The Four C's. These were determined by a very happy long-term couple I know, as the key ingredients to a successful relationship. They are Communication, Compatibility, Chemistry and Comedy. I have met my match, and her name is Caroline.

It was exactly one year ago today that I met the woman with whom I plan to spend the rest of my life. Well, technically we didn't really meet. We had been interacting, checking each other out, looking through pictures, and flirting on facebook for a bit, when on this day, the 4th of August, we both decided we wanted something more. We began a simultaneous pursuit, we both seemed to feel this pull, or push, or some kind of force driving us toward each other. It was the beginning of the serious 'let's get to know each other' phase. I like to think that we both knew that the other was destined to become important in our lives.

Although we are having a hell of time merging our lives, it is a fight we are both fully invested in, and we will not stop until our goal of marrying, and living together full time, is achieved.

Our story: We met on facebook playing a game called Mafia Wars. We both joined a group that was created to help gay people who play MW meet and support one another. We were both fairly new to the game and were trying to invite as many people as we could to join our mafias, to try to reach the magic number of 501. I noticed her profile picture, and went to her page to check her out. She was definitely cute, and her status was "in a relationship". Awww.... too bad.

A few weeks later, she posted pictures of a new tattoo she'd gotten, a tramp stamp, my favorite! She took the photo in a mirror, in her underwear, so you could see the tatt. I clicked on the picture, again drawn to the eye candy...I clicked through her photos, she was so my type! Then I got to her profile, and her status had changed to "single". My heart skipped a beat. I didn't think about the fact that she lived in another country and we had an ocean between us. I immediately went back to the picture of the tattoo and the adorable butt, and left a comment about how nice it was, and how I liked the tattoo as well. There was a period of flirting that followed, and she seemed very keen on returning my attention. I had started a second account, so I flirted with that one too, and even though I hadn't tried to hide the fact that both were me, she didn't seem to realize it at first, and she was not as flirtatious with the other me, which made the real me pretty happy. Do you follow?

Finally the day arrived that we began to inbox, and exchanged emails and began the real process of getting to know each other better. Since then, we've laughed a lot, determined in person that our chemistry online was not limited to cyberspace, discovered how much we have in common, and that we can work through difficult issues. We've enjoyed over 623 Skype hours, 3419 emails 655 text messages, a bunch of IM's and phone calls, and here we are, more in love than ever! Happy Anniversary Baby!

The "Funny" Thing Is...

About five years ago, I made some major life changes. I quit my job with a company I'd been with for nine years, ended a relationship I'd been in for ten, sold my half of the house to my ex, and set off to the other side (the wrong side) of the country to start a new life, and a new business doing what I love. I was filled with unflinching optimism. I would be successful. I would find a woman, we would fall in love, and live happily ever after.

I had a lot of money, and my plan was to remain flexible, and see where life would take me. I wanted very much after working for years and never having a *real vacation, to finally do something I've always wanted to do, like take an Olivia cruise, or adventure trip. The problem was I had no one to go with me. Some of my friends suggested I go alone, assuring me that lots of women did, and that I might meet someone on the trip.

"Yes, I'd meet someone...from Montana!" I'd reply. "I'm not getting into some long distance thing!"

I found lots of ways to squander my money, bought third row theater tickets on Broadway three days before a show, bought my sister a motorcycle, bought myself a cool little sports car. A neat trailer for the trip across the country etc. The list goes on.

Those of you who read my blog know that things did not turn out the way I'd planned, as they rarely do. The funny thing is, now I'm living back in the house I no longer own part of, and I am in love with someone who lives in another country. See how I stuck to my guns on that long distance thing? But the real kicker is the money! I now have a dog that I rescued, who needs ACL surgery, which I can't afford. I need money for a passport, a visa, a plane ticket for both me and my dog. Money for all the medical he needs so he won't be quarantined, and enough to get my bankruptcy filed, so I don't have to pay the bank for the house I couldn't afford to keep. I owe my ex, and very good friend, an untold amount for letting me live with her rent free for a year and a half. I barely make my truck payment, and insurance, and phone each month, and was at the Coin Star Machine with my piggy bank just last week, so I could eat.

My girlfriend, bless her heart, has sent me a few bucks here and there when I'm in a real pinch, and she has also managed to save money that we'll need for a down-payment and first month on whatever place we find to live in, once I get to England.

The worst part of it all came Monday, when my sweetheart collapsed at work and was out cold for at least 15 minutes. She was rushed to the hospital, where they told her she had a migraine and sent her home, even though she has a history that includes a brain hemorrhage. They didn't do a scan because they don't give a rat's ass, and we can't make them care. She has used up her yearly allocation of privatized care with a shoulder injury, so now we need money to make sure she's alright, and can live until next year's insurance kicks in.

We are trapped apart from each other until I can sell my tools and whatever else I have left. I can't help her, or myself. I am cursed with hindsight, and spend the days agonizing over all the careless ways I threw my money around, like it was inexhaustible.

I guess there really IS no funny part! Sorry.

*real vacation: One you don't spend at home working, or going to visit family.

Troubling Song Lyrics...

Okay, So this is a cute song in a bubble gum poppy dance club kind of way, but if you listen to the lyrics, there is one line that is beyond explanation: "But we kick em to the curb unless they look like Mick Jagger"

Jagger does rhyme with swagger, I get it.... But seriously? If you saw a guy that looked like Mick Jagger, but was definitely NOT Mick Jagger, in say...a bowling alley or something, that would be a good thing? I understand that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but I think even Mick Jagger knows if he wasn't a rich and famous rock star, he'd be paying for sex, or desperately hoping to get some Carny drunk enough to do him just before she vomits and passes out.

For Cody

Cody Steven Smartassbian: Jan 5, 1996 - May 14, 2010

Cody was an adorable pup who stole my heart, and after an hour or so of begging and pleading, came to live with me and his other, more reluctant at first, mother. Cody was smart and was house-trained in record time, but his puppy-hood was not without the occasional snag. There was the sofa he ate, and the fact that he liked to eat his own poo. We heard that if we sprinkled cayenne pepper on his poo, it would break him of the habit, however it only succeeded in developing his taste for spicy food.

Cody was an adventurer, going on countless hikes, rock climbing jaunts, cross country skiing, and camping trips. He even went down the rapids in a two-man kayak. He kayaked the waters of Lake Tahoe and traversed many trails in the Tahoe National Forest among other places. He lived on both coasts. He had an amazing sense of direction and smell, and could always take you back to the starting point or the car, no matter how lost you thought you were.

When visiting the various dog parks in the LA area as a young dog, Cody felt compelled to visit every person at the park. He loved people. He was only interested in playing with the dogs that could surely kill him in an instant! He would get in the car with any stranger, and was lucky enough to be petted by Melissa Etheridge.

When I got upset about something, or lost my temper, making most everyone and everything around me, want to get away, Cody always came to me...wondering what was wrong. This had the strangest calming effect on me, that no person could have ever had.

Cody was a clean dog, choosing to walk around mud, not through it. He loved cheese and cheese popcorn. He loved to chase bunnies, and actually caught one once, much to my dismay. He never bit anyone, or got into a fight with another animal. He could, and would, remove the squeaker from a new toy with surgical precision with the first 5 minutes of ownership. He was well behaved, and once trained, no longer needed to be kept on a leash. He loved to have his back end just above his tail scratched, and would let you pet his head, only to reposition himself under you hand, until you were scratching his butt.

Full grown he weighed 34 pounds. People often said he looked like a Dingo. The kind that ate your baby. Cody was a wonderful companion, and an easy dog to care for and love. He developed a tumor in March which grew from the size of a marble to the size of large grapefruit in about 8 weeks. This eventually grew to impede his ability to chew and was encroaching on his ability to breathe. Today, his other mother and I took him to the vet and held him as we watched his life end with a minimum of discomfort to him.

Cody will be missed.

Olympic Criticism

I think there should be an Olympics for criticism. I have lots of it! The one thing that is sticking in my craw at the moment, is the female figure skaters. Not that they aren't wonderful, they are, but the costumes are, for lack of a better word, repugnant!

Skating outfits have always been a little "off". But please, with all the attention to detail in their routines, is it too much to expect their legs to match their arms? What is with the skin tone on these outfits? The legs are always 4 shades darker than the torso and arms, and I don't understand why. To say nothing of the ridiculous frilly skirts that spend all kinds of time flying up over their butts, and distracting everyone from the actual skating.

The skaters train hard and have gorgeous bodies. The lines they make while skating are captivating, and even more so if you can actually see them! That's why the men are so much fun to watch. There was one woman in the pairs skating that wore a suit that really showed her lines and made her fun to watch. I for one would love to see a shift in women's skating to this type of outfit. If this isn't the future of women's figure skating, I do hope they'll at least think about making their bodies appear to belong to one person! So I can stop worrying that the bottom half will take off in a different direction from the top!

Surely this is a gold medal criticism, and they will be playing my song when I decide which country I want to represent. The place where I was born, or the place I'm going because they haven't made laws based on letting me know I'm not worthy of the same civil rights as my heterosexual superiors, but I can still enjoy paying the same amount of taxes just the same! Hmmm....

Stray Thoughts

Christmas is over, and the new year is nearly upon us. I spent this Christmas enjoying the hospitality of friends, as I am thousands of miles from my family. I had a much better time than I expected to have at both celebrations I attended, but what stuck with me was a conversation I didn't have with a very nice man, and why.

Is it just me or does everyone wonder why some people seem to refuse to curb their errant hair? If there is one thing I cannot stand to see its long flowing nose hair. The other things are ear hair that seems to be doubling as a wind sock, or eyebrow hairs several inches long... Really people, get a grip! Are you really that lazy, or just oblivious? Renegade hairs have always been a favorite pet peeve of mine. As far as your body hair goes, do what you like if I don't have to see it. Your head however is in the public eye.

The guy I was busy not listening to in the kitchen was blathering on about something or other, while I couldn't seem to pull my focus from his nose which had long straggly hairs on the bridge. He was so close to it with his razor only hours ago, yet there it was. As he spoke, I wondered if he felt it was a positive feature, or if he was afraid having a nose free of hair would make people regard him as effeminate, or possibly he'd be swamped by people asking if he was a swimmer. The other thought burrowing through my brain like an ambition drunk tequila worm was, How is that hair not in his field of vision? I know when I have even just a little flake of dead skin on my nose I can see it. This clump of unruliness must have had the effect of making everyone look as if they are sitting in a tuft of hair.

I began to wonder if its just me and my progressively pronounced OCD, or if it's a mystery to others as well. Then I remembered working with a guy almost twenty years ago, who had facial hair that grew clear up to his eyes, but he stopped shaving at the usual beard area, and let the hair above that flourish, as if someone had made him a template to follow years ago, and told him never to go outside those lines. That reminded me, I've always been this way. To the all the people who feel they should not disturb god's work, and let their hair grow wild and free, chances are good, I'm not listening to a word you say! Happy New Year!