Today I’m heading up to Utah for a Valentine’s event and I just couldn’t leave without saying something, ANYthing on the blog since I’ve been so negligent lately. Sometimes you just fall out of the groove, you know? I was thinking about religion last night and how religious people kind of get a bad rap from all of the fanatics, but then I realized an entry about that would be a major endeavor so another Friday the 13th blog op was missed. And of course I have fuck all to say about love, which means a Valentine entry is out of the question. Don’t even get me started on this “holiday” or I’ll never make my plane. Let me just say in shorthand, “Why do we NEED a day to do things for those we love?”

Then it hit me! I have a fun little video we made just for kicks and I can use it to overshadow the fact that I don’t want to write a fucking thing! They will love it and I can ease my guilt for being such a rotten host! You see how that works?

This story has been on the back burner for ages. Sometimes it’s better to talk about something after the fact. I’ve whittled this down considerably and yet it is still reeeeally long so I’ve decided to pepper it with photos!

That’s right. This is all about Petey.

When I first got him it was clear that he suffered from a severe case of separation anxiety. He would tear up the rug in front of the door and began to rip the metal frame from around the front door in an effort to get out whenever I was away from home. I bought a wire cage from Petsmart only to have him chew, yes chew through it squeezing himself through an opening that I am shocked did not cause a bloody mess and a trip to the ER. I talked to the instructor for Petey’s first segment of obedience class about my dilemma and she told me of a woman who encountering the same problem had designed, with the help of a welder, a wrought iron cage that was meant for the transport of large exotic animals, more specifically, a tiger! Obviously the cage was going to be made smaller and the idea was comical and I was hopeful. My hopes were short lived however and smashed to a million pieces when I came home to find Petey soaked in urine and slobber. The final event that led Petey back to the truck was the “Post-Its” on my door from neighbors asking me to quiet my dog. I was literally at my last rope now so in the meantime while I figured out what the next step was in calming this panic I had to take Petey with me everywhere in my truck.

Amazingly he had absolutely no trouble hanging out in the truck; he knew I was coming back and he would lay down on his pillows quiet and relaxed patiently waiting for daddy to return. It was very problematic during August and September as the temperature would reach into the 100s. Not only was it a issue for my little boy’s health, but it is illegal to leave a dog in the car in CA. I would crank up the AC and only be gone for minutes at a time. I would enlist the help of friends to watch him when I had to run errands that would take more than a couple of minutes; this was now a full time job.

I enjoyed his company though and when I would see his little ears blowing in the wind from my rear view mirror I would just smile and be happy that he was in my life. I would leave the little window of the cab half open when I would go shopping or to the gym and it was set to a spot that even I had a hard time getting past. I had done this so many times and was without worry or fear that he would get out and besides, he was not anxious at all about hanging out in the truck.

One night I had attended a class on the Science of Happiness and of course brought Petey along. When I pulled in on the far side of the lot I noticed a man and a woman of the tweeked out variety in close proximity. I made a comment to Petey that may have been a bit judgmental, but I thought since it was just the two of us that no harm would be done. I pulled in to my spot and went inside at 7:10 PM. I know this because I glanced at the clock when I turned the truck off. At 9 PM the class ended and I went outside to the truck ready to be greeted by my beloved companion. I approached and noticed that the window appeared to be opened all the way. Panic set in and I ran to the truck. I unlocked the door the truck illuminated to show an empty cab. I wanted to throw up. I immediately imagined him by the side of the road then switched to a vision of him lost in the foothills of the mountains that looked over us from the West. Even as I write this and relive it, I feel that panic rising from my gut and the chill running down my arms to my fingertips; it was to date the worst experience I can recall. I started to run calling his name as loud as I could. I had no idea where I was running to, but standing still would only serve to exacerbate the panic and fear that seemed to engulf my body. I had only gone about 50 ft around the building when I made a quick left to see my beloved four legged friend hanging out calm as cash with the two crackheads that I silently insulted 2 hours prior.

They had Petey leashed with some rustic rubber tubing that was crudely tied to his collar like some junkyard dog. The female was grossly thin and clutching a “Big Gulp.” Her male companion was silent and wearing sunglasses. She began to explain that she found my dog and that he looked really lost and scared so she grabbed him and gave him chicken. The three of them were hanging out by the pay phone around the building, a football’s throw from my truck. I looked at her gaunt, skeletal face as she explained again that they had found the dog and that he was scared, they gave him chicken and called the number listed on his tags. I thanked them over and over and she said her victory speech over and over until I coughed up a couple of twenties.

The second I was alone with Petey I began to cry, hard, really hard. And I was ashamed of myself for my remark earlier about the street kids. That all changed very soon. Once I discovered the 10 voicemails left during my two hour absence it was clear that Petey had been taken and more or less held for ransom. He did not push that window open, they opened it. What fucking balls! You have to be really cracked out and desperate to stick your hand in a truck with the face of a pit bull staring back at you. They coaxed him out with the cheap chicken they got from the KFC behind the building and took him right to the phone where they began to make their rescue calls. It was definitely a moment to remember and now when Petey goes with me the window is locked.

With that scary episode behind me and a very different life in front of me there has been much improvement with Petey. Thanks to a little intense training and some tough love he can now stay at home by himself (for short spells anyway). There are still days that push me to my limits, but I think he’s definitely worth a little wear and tear on my nerves. Who knows what would have become of him if I hadn’t come along? I know I certainly wouldn’t be where I am today without the collaborative support of many, many individuals and they didn’t give up on me when I chewed on their $260 custom sandals! Well, you get the idea.

People in my life sometimes like to point out that things often go my way. Maybe things do happen for me more easily than for others, but it certainly didn’t feel that way in March. I was trying to find a living situation in West Hollywood and a renter for my place in Palm Springs without much success. When I found a renter I was still without a place to go to and then the renter fell through leaving me back at square one. It didn’t help that I didn’t have a job lined up, but where was the time to take care of that?

Then fate turned her frown upside down and I secured a really great renter and a potential roommate all about the same time. Through my network I discovered a friend of mine in WeHo was moving and needed a roommate. He and I had always gotten along very well and soon we found a cute place in a great location we could afford. Well, if I could get a decent job anyway.

My readers know me as an organic food eating, animal rights supporting, environmentally aware, music loving wine freak with an affinity for nudity and spreading positive energy in every direction possible. Well now there are two of us at home and we spend a whole lot of time here in relative peace providing The Abbey keeps the noise down. I’m very excited about this very new phase in my life and to share some of my enthusiasm I put together a little welcome video for your amusement.

Living in Palm Springs has been wonderful, but for some time now I have felt that my time here is done. The courses have been dropped and all the flatware has been cleared; your time here is done, goodbye and come again. I need to be somewhere alive and stimulating; Palm Springs is where people go to get away from all of that.

So in comes the blog worthy news bite. I have been cast to play a role in the HereTV! original series “The Lair” and this is really about my first day of work.

They asked to do this over a year ago, after my win for “Best Actor” in the 2006 GAYVNS, but I had to turn it down because I was in Ohio for a month long Christmas visit followed by my fourth cross-country trip. This time I was available and more than willing to try something completely new.

Originally I was cast to play the role of Ian, a new character in name and in form, more specifically, a werewolf. I was thrilled at the opportunity and even more jazzed at the idea of getting all made up in hair and teeth.

My final audition before the CEO was on a windy, wet Thursday afternoon on Wilshire near UCLA. I had already been approved by the majority of the powers that be and this was one final “OK” needed before I could try on the fangs. I thought I did really well and they seemed to agree. I left feeling quite confident.

A little later I was sitting at the Abbey when my phone indicated a voicemail. I listened to the message and from the tone of his voice I could tell that I lost the part.

It was a sinking feeling, but fleeting because in the same breath I was told that I had been given another “more dramatic” role. Even though I was relieved I was already missing the wardrobe aspect. I wanted to be the werewolf. There were a few awkward moments seasoned with a light flavor of failure until I remembered what I learned from watching “America’s Next Top Model”: Sometimes you don’t have the look that they want. It is as simple as that and has nothing to do with ability (at least that’s what they tell you, which is nearly as good).

So now I am Tim, an assistant to the botanist, Jake Waldman with no make up, no fangs and no X-Men-esque wig.

To be honest I was a little over confident on my first day. It wasn’t the first time. Just because I have sex with strangers in front of even more strangers, contorting myself into Twister like positions all the while sharing a recipe with the make-up guy I sometimes feel like I can handle anything. I was quickly humbled to say the least. I had practiced my lines and was very good at recalling them at any time, in the truck, on the plane and even in the bathroom. I even had a couple of practice sessions with my scene partner, but when I got on set in front of those people I encountered a new kind of pressure and it landed me on my ass. I forgot a line and then everything just seemed to snowball until it got so bad that a guy from the crew had to recite my lines for me just so we could get through the scene. It was a fucking nightmare for everyone involved. Thankfully Eve Harrington was nowhere to be found.

I had a break between scenes so I reflected heavily on what I thought my problem could have been. I am pretty sure it was just because this was a new situation, one that I had never been in before and it was scary. I had not slept the night before waking up each hour with a dull nervousness that sat at the tip of my toes. It was the same brand of sleep I’d experienced before my first sex scene, my first dance gig in Philadelphia and my first runway show. I was just plain scared and all I needed to do was breathe, relax and make sure they didn’t try and find Eve Harrington after my next scene.

On my second scene of the day I nailed it and was 1000 times better. The breathing and letting myself relax into the moment was the key to my success. I am not a trained actor and I am going to make mistakes; the directors and producers knew who they hired so the mistakes on my first day were probably expected.

Here is the first photo of me on set: