I Must, I Must, I Must increase my Bust.

I am sore. Aching actually. Every move that I make hurts and I love it.

Rib Breaker and I have been working out fiendishly the last 2 weeks and I hope to continue with the momentum. I have always been on the slim and ectomorphic side and I now have a desire to bulk up and increase muscle mass. It takes a lot of work and I am finding the results quite promising. So, if any of you have suggestions and tips on how to gain effective weight and muscle mass please let me know. I already have a very high metabolism and consume close to 3000 plus calories a day. My goal is to stay trim and focus on core muscle groups like my back and Abs as well as add to my very flat chest. I would love to achieve part of this before summer so that the shirt can come off without feeling embarrassed or skinny, so wish me luck.

Happy HNT!

I've been incredibly busy the last few weeks, so I apologise for the lack of posts and visits to your Blogs. The cold grey weather is making me long for the warmth of summer, so in honour of the Summer Sun, I am posting a picture of last year.

Happy HNT!

Peeling back the Layers

We woke up early for a Saturday morning, as we had a busy day ahead. We rushed about the home in preparation, dashing out of the doors just after 8am. We walked briskly. The March sun was trying to poke it's way through the clouds, but old man winter was doing it's best to hold tight. Each time the wind took a swing at us, it took a chunk of warmth right out of our exposed flesh. It was bitterly cold. Mother Nature was being a tease and all I could think of was Spring and it's promise of warmth. We borrowed a friend's car and headed out for our trip to visit Rib Breaker's dad in Trenton. I had never met his dad, but had seen a few pictures at Rib Breaker's old apartment and on our trip to visit his mum in North Bay back in November.

The last they saw each other was September of last year, and RB had been wanting to go for sometime now. We headed East on the 401 arriving just after 11am. His father worked for the Canadian Military and Trenton AFB was one that he had worked at for a number of years. It was where RB was born and I got a glimpse into his world as a child. RB drove me around Trenton and pointed out the homes where he had lived. One such house he told me was so old and dillapidated that the home was insulated with bales of hay. In the winter time, the only source of heat was from a small woodstove that barely produced enough heat to keep them warm. The picture he painted was one of a tough childhood, with little money. He told me, on the really cold days he would wake up early and fill the tub with hot water and go sleep in there so that he could shake off the chill. He also told me that he could only draw the water slowly, or else pebbles would come rolling out of the faucet. I kept thinking, "do people really live like that?" How could people in a wealthy nation live in such poverty. I had always lived quite comfortably, even after my family went bankrupt on a business venture back in the early 80's. It was sobering to think that I might have complained about my living situation when he could barely keep himself warm on a winter morning.

We eventually drove into Trenton and got to his Dad's place. It was a small house shouldered between the Bay of Quinte and the Trent river. His father greeted us at the door with his dog Keisha. His father was slender with shoulder length silver blonde hair, soft kind blue eyes and an even softer voice. The resemblance was uncanny. He grabbed RB and they hugged for what seemed an eternity. I had to avert my eyes. It was such an intimate moment and I didn't want to intrude. I have noticed in RB, this incredible sensitivity and soft heart. He dons this tough protective mask a lot of the times, but in reality he's just a 10 year old kid in a 38 year old man's body. His love is unconditional and pure. They hugged, and kissed and it warmed the cold ktchen and me. Father and son together again.

We sat casually around the kitchen table as though we had been there just a week ago. Shooting the shit, we chatted about each other and his 16 year old dog, who kept waddling over for more treats. RB's older sister, boyfriend and her daughter came just after noon and we all sat around chatting and laughing. Rb's niece just had a baby boy 2 weeks prior and this was the first RB got to meet him. He was adorable and so tiny. RB took 2 week old Logan and cradled him, then fed and burped him. Watching him, made me fall in love with him all over again.

We spent the day in the kitchen. The silence was sometimes awkward but not uncomfortable. I sensed in David the years of loneliness and frustration of being away from his family and understood more, why he was the way he was. We headed out for dinner which RB and I paid for, then headed back to his dad's place, where we sat for a bit longer before bidding our farewells. I didn't want to push him. I know he could have sat and stayed there forever.

When we finally got up, he first hugged his sister, then his dad. Tears flowed and they didn't say much. His father turned to me with a great big smile, his eyes twinkling, but rimmed in sadness and said "You take good care of him, alright?" They all had the same eyes. Piercing blue, grey rimmed with years of hardship and pain, yet all that emanated from them was love and kindness. I just nodded my head and hugged him again.

We drove home in relative silence. There wasn't much to say as I knew the trip would be hard on him. When we got into the comforts of our home, RB began to cry and I consoled him, the way he had with me 2 weeks past. When his crying subsided, we spoke softly to each other and he fell asleep in my arms.

There are few things in life more precious than seeing true genuine love. Before RB, I never understood what love was or could be. When we met, I thought I was the one who would teach him or fix him, and in the end, it was he who fixed me.

Babycakes, I love you

There have been many people in my life who have given me strength and support, through good times and bad. I love these people with all my heart and I am thankful for their constancy and stalwart strength with which I draw upon. There are many to mention, but for the purposes of this post, I will speak of one who speaks volumes and whom I am indebted to for life.

Anne-Marie (aka Annie) and I met back in 1999 while in Montreal during the Black & Blue Festival. We met through other mutual friends who now form a Core group of closely knit friends, that we fondly refer to as the Cottage Crew. Annie and I, quickly became friends. Her beautiful smile and warm heart drew me to her and we were instantly connected. I was 26 and finding my way in life and decided to move in with Annie and her other roommate in 2000. Their third roomie was leaving so I was filling in a gap. As we became closer, our relationship intensified and we spent all our time together. She was my Grace and I was her Will. We knew every intimate detail about each other and could understand each other without a word. Sometimes it was comical, and sometimes it was tragically dysfunctional, but our friendship was always infinite and absolute.

When I discovered my HIV status in June 2002, she was my rock. There are many others who were there as well, namely the Joy Luck Club whom I also am indebted to for life. That is another intensely personal relationship that I will have to save for another day. Annie was working for the Canadian Foundation for AIDS Research (CANFAR) at the time and the news hit her hard, but she still stood by me and allowed me to grieve and cry on her shoulder.

As time progressed we became even closer and it is now a relationship that I find difficult to express in words. There are no words that can do it justice. There is an understanding and a compassion there that we both share. I am her Monkey and she is my Babycakes. It will never change. It can only grow stronger.

Babycakes, I love you and will always be there for you as you have always been there for me.

An archaelogical expedition into long lost treasures of the Soul

I have never been one to cry during movies or at weddings. It was always very foreign to me and I often got nicknamed the Ice Queen for my lack of emotional display. Crying and open displays of vulnerability were not emotional wells that I dug into often, believing them to be irrational and weak. I tried at times to find that melancholic feeling that would make me cry, but it always seemed so artificial and I often wondered why it was that I could not feel, or more aptly, why I would not allow myself to feel.

After a lot of introspection and years of intensive self therapy, I have realised a lot of it has to do with my upbringing and having been raised in a family where I was my own source of solace and comfort. My parents raised me as best they could and to the best of their knowledge. There were no child-rearing handbooks at that time and some of the techniques of discipline which they dispensed would nowadays be looked upon with disdain. Some would have called it abuse. My father, who was the primary disciplinarian was thorough and very quick to anger. I certainly don't blame him for it, and have forgiven him for all and any trespasses. He was raised the same way, and he has come a long way in being a more fatherly figure. I love my parents deeply, but the emotional scars still run deep and it is a journey on my part to rid myself of the damage and pain that still resides in me. I am working towards that goal, and part of the journey is realising that I still associate feeling and emotional availability to vulnerability and to a difficult past. Over the years and over time, you build up a protective wall, and unchecked, that wall becomes menacing and prevents you from getting inside yourself. I have also realised that the pain and sorrow that we keep in ourselves become insidious and malignant, seeping into different aspects of your life without you even realising it. Like a cancer, it overtakes you and soon you lose site of the good and beautiful things that exist around you.

So on Friday, after an evening hanging-out with friends I went home and spent time with Rib Breaker. There was nothing unique or different about that evening, but suddenly I became acutely aware of my surroundings and where I was in my life. My personal history, my childhood, my hiv status and my future all loomed over me and it was overwhelming and I experienced a panic attack. I became dizzy and nauseous. My heart was racing and my breathing was laboured and I began to feel waves of emotions that I had never felt before. Rib Breaker took hold of me and held me tight, helping me breathe and telling me to relax and to let things go. He responded with such kindness and compassion, and suddenly the floodgates opened and I began to feel things that I had never allowed myself to feel before. I began to cry.

But it was no ordinary cry, for it was no ordinary moment.

The years of untouched emotional sediment began to come undone and the emotional sludge began to loosen. So much pain. So much hurt. So much unacknowledged emotional baggage began to release itself. The pain coursed through my body and I responded viscerally. My Soul began to weep and sob and I remember sobbing and screaming that it "hurts so much", and Rib breaker still stayed close telling me to "Let it Go". I released with such ferocity that my body convulsed and every ounce of energy that I had put into keeping that wall up, was let go.

Twenty or thirty minutes later the sobbing stopped and quiet fell in my exhaustion. I could barely move and the weight of my body pulled me into a deep sleep. Realising that a large part of that emotional barrier had been removed, was profoundly intimate and calming. When I woke the following morning, I felt different. There was a new sense of understanding in the knowledge that I HAD acknowledged my past and present and that there was a future for me. For many years I was always aware of myself, but rarely did I ever Acknowledge myself.

Without sounding like a new-age nut, I feel different. Things are even brighter than they were and the sensation and touch of my new found spirit is exciting. I can't describe it intelligibly, but I suppose it can be likened to an archaelogical expedition, where you are in search of a long lost treasure. I have found that well of emotion that I have hidden for so long and am now beginning to make peace with it.

Happy HNT: 4

I know this is a bit more risque than what I usually put up, but I thought it was cool without being overtly sexual. So here is my latest HNT contribution.