The Invisible Man

Yesterday I got up early, slugged down a stiff cup of java and went into a housework tizzy. Ripping the sheets off the bed, I piled them into the giant rolling trash can I use as a hamper, plopped my trusty dog on top, and began the trek 18 floors down to the basement laundry room.

My ill-considered outfit consisted of a do-rag chapeau, a wrinkled pink tee-shirt and some sweats. We arrived without incident, I loaded the washers and dashed for the elevator, hoping it would magically float directly to my floor uninterrupted, but noooo. My personal demons had a special surprise in store.

We got as far as the first floor and there was a little 'ding.' The doors opened, and there he was; a stunningly handsome vision of loveliness, a god just down from Olympus for the day. And there I was, in excruciating contrast; Cinderfella before his magic transformation, in his do-rag and sweats. And did I mention the rumpled pink tee-shirt?

I wanted to run. I wanted an escape hatch to open. He pushed 16 which was going to make for a long ride. I couldn't look at him so I stared at the buttons, wishing there was a Willy Wonka button that would take us on a wild ride up, over, down and around, and he and I would end up trapped and naked in a heap with the Pomeranian and the trash can...

No such luck. My mind was racing. I remembered those childhood wishes for superpowers, and thought how great it would be to have the power of invisibility at my fingertips for just such occasions, or even better, a fairy godfather to go 'poof' with her wand and transform the tee-shirt into a sparkling ballgown, my do-rag into a french twist, all reflecting my true inner beauty. Until that magic day, I have vowed to get dressed to do laundry, just in case my prince shows up with a glass slipper.

The secret powers of small fluffy dogs

I knew I wanted a small, cute, easy-traveling, black dog. Ha! little did I know when Nigel showed up in my xmas stocking, what was in store for me and the world.

He has become the favorite dog I've ever had. Sorry to all those dogs that came before, but the truth hurts. You should have thought of that before you chewed up my Gucci flip flops, Honey!

Nigel is sweet and well-behaved. He's a great snuggler and listens very well. But a very different talent emerged as soon as he was old enough to venture out with me.

Suddenly, men began appearing out of nowhere, squealing about how cute he was. Now that he has grown up and figured out how to really milk all that luxuriant fluffyness for attention, he is an unstoppable man magnet! With so much adorableness on a leash no one is immune; I now have the perfect ice breaker. And If there is any question in men's minds about whether I am gay or not, the small, black, overly-groomed Pomeranian speaks volumes, no?

What kind of dog is that? What's his name? What's YOUR name? Oh, suddenly there is so much to talk about! I can explain where his name came from, ask if they have a dog...

Nigel gets yogurt for breakfast, prefers veggies over meat, and has six kinds of treats. He is totally loved and spoiled, just in case you hadn't already figured that out. So for now he is my best friend, until till Mr. Right shows up, and when he does, he'd better not be allergic to dogs!

I Have a (gay) Dream...

I moved to Portland, looked around, and realized that something was missing. Something really important to me; Can someone tell me where exactly is the gay neighborhood?

Didn't think so.

'Cause there doesn't seem to be one. I dearly miss my sense of belonging to a bigger swarm of humanity I can relate to. So I'm starting this blog, but it's not about lil' ol' me.

It's about US.

It's FOR us.

You and me and as many Mister Nice Guys as we can gather. If this blog was a game show, you'd be the contestants, the audience AND ol' what's-his-name. I'd just be Vanna, straining mightily to look intelligent, holding up those big letters so's everyone can see them.

It's an attempt to make an online neighborhood and community, to share some realness, some joy, and occasionally even some righteous indignation (did I mention all my underwear was stolen out of the laundry room last week? Sick bastard! More about that later, with pix of my elegant solution)

I'm thinking, wouldn't it be great to tell you about places I've discovered around town, hear about your own favorites, rant about common problems, howl at the moon, and even plan some picnics or meet-ups when the weather gets a bit nicer?

I'm a list-maker, and I started a list of all the topics I'd love to talk with y'all about but I got carried away, REALLY carried away, and it's got over 200 topics on it already with more flying into my head every few minutes.

But enough about me, and my plans. PLEASE CHIME IN! Introduce yourselves.

How about starting by posting a comment telling me what your favorite place to go on a romantic date in Portland is. I'll tell you mine. Promise. And I'll introduce my sure-fire secret weapon for meeting and chatting up cute strangers.

Stay tuned! xoxo for now.