First of all, admire the new digs for SecondHand Tryptophan! Thanks to the lovely Rent a Geek Mom, the design went live last night and I’m really liking it. Hope you do, too. Caitlin did a great job. My bud, Mic, drew the header graphic for me, so a big thanks to him, as well.

If you see anything wonky or notice some weird behavior on the blog, please let me know.

Second, for all my mom friends, hope you had a wonderful Mother’s Day yesterday.

"I'd like to say hi to SecondHand Karl and congrats on the new design!"

So I started watching “Live with Regis and Kelly” (sorry, Shannon) this morning, and then President Obama sees the need to preempt everything at 10:00 AM to announce his new Supreme Court nominee. Snore. Why can’t Barack get a clue and start his press conferences at 7:00 AM or noon, when nobody gives a fuck about what else is on TV? Or maybe 6pm, when the news is ALREADY ON?

Sure, this Elena Kagan (whose last name is close enough to Kegel to make me giggle) may be helping shape the very laws of the United States one day. But she’s already irritating me by interrupting my morning TV.

For future reference, major flood or earthquake? Local tornado warning? Plane crash? Mud wrestling in the Senate? Karl winning the lottery? All fantastic reasons to interrupt TV with an announcement. Short of that, fuck off and wait until the noon/evening news. Or hey, how about showing that shit on the channels I expect to see news on, like CNN or MSNBC?

--- Thanks for reading! SecondHand Tryptophan

First off, I’m honored to have been included in today’s edition of Five Star Friday. It’s my first time there and, naturally, it’s my post about suicidal thoughts that got me there. Not the funny, no…it’s all this emo shit that seems to be hitting home with some people. Go figure. Thanks for thinking of me, means a lot.

CONTEST

Next, here’s your chance to win a $25 gift certificate from Eden Fantasies. Go over to Shannon’s blog here. Read the post/rules. Email her your biggest sex disaster story, and you could win. I’m one of the judges, so make it good. Contest closes at midnight on Sunday (Central time).

Go. NOW. ENTER.

I keep skipping the Tai Chi class, but tomorrow at 9:15 I’m hitting it. Did another 30 minutes on treadmill today. So many machines in the Y, and that’s the one I’m comfortable with. I’m so out of shape, I could probably hit nothing but the treadmill every day and be good.

That’s it for today. Not feeling very creative. Not feeling very anything, really, except lazy and like sleeping the day away. But sleep isn’t coming easily.

Later. Have a good weekend.

--- Thanks for reading! SecondHand Tryptophan

So it’s official. Bubblewench is coming to Sebring toward the end of April. Not many of my blogger buds can say they’ve been here…not many can say they WANT to be here, but still. Shannon wants to meet up with her Florida buddies. Therefore…

We’re having a get together, and you’re invited if you can get here.

WHAT: SillyBring

WHEN: Saturday, April 24

WHERE: Sebring, Florida

I’ll research hotels if you want to come and stay the night. If you’re driving from Tampa, it’s about 2 hours drive. Orlando, about 90 minutes. If you’re flying in, Orlando International is the way to go (airport code MCO).

I don’t expect much response here, but if you do come, here’s some of what we’re thinking about. Karaoke at the infamous Why Not Lounge on Saturday night. It’s a hole-in-the-wall cave of a bar, but it’s full of characters, trust me.

We may also go to Gatorama during the day, which is a gator farm offering the largest selection of gators and crocodiles anywhere! So they say. You can even pet a baby gator.

Depending on how many people come, I also have a Wii with a 60-inch TV. I’m not having 20 people in my house, but again, I don’t expect even 25% of that in numbers, so we’ll see.

We can hit the Blue Lagoon for beers and dinner. Or the Wild Turkey, which has the best gator tail in Highlands county.

Gonna have a blast.

If you’re thinking of coming, leave a comment here…or email me.

EDIT: I didn’t realize this was the same weekend as TequilaCon. Oops. No matter. I knew I couldn’t go to TequilaCon this year, anyway. May as well bring the party here, since Shannon is coming. I hope that my TC buds all have a great time. But we will, too.

REDESIGN

So with the redesign of SecondHand Tryptophan coming within weeks, I’m opening up the floor to suggestions/ideas for the new look. If there are features you’d like to see, please let me know. I have a good idea of where I’m going with things, but I’d love to hear from you, too.

Again, comments here or email would be appreciated. Thanks, gang.

--- Thanks for reading! SecondHand Tryptophan

Yesterday, in a move hardly characteristic of myself, I went to the YMCA to, ugh, exercise. Water aerobics.

First off, I’m not happy in a bathing suit. Yes, I hate sports, know nothing about cars, and I have body issues. So why the hell don’t I get multiple orgasms like the rest of you women? Huh? Not fair.

I didn’t even make it through the whole class, maybe 45 minutes. A bunch of old women kicked my fucking ass. My legs were burning, my heart was racing. The only good part was that it’s hard to sweat when you’re in a pool.

Apparently, you need an AARP membership before you can make it a full hour in a pool with floatie noodles and foam dumbbells. But I did it for 45 minutes, and that counts.

Tomorrow, I have two things to do. First, Tai Chi in the morning. Then, after over a month and a half, I’m finally getting my head CT. Yeah, from passing out and hitting the kitchen floor. The forehead is most certainly cracked; I can feel it. Plus, the headaches are getting more frequent…not where I usually get them, either. They’re in the front of my head. That’s not good.

I don’t know what they’ll do for me when they find out my skull is cracked. But at least I’m getting it looked at, even if it took a while to get approval to get a local CT scan done. Rather than drive two hours, I mean.

Work begins in earnest on the 2HT redesign this week. It’s one of the very few things I’m able to garner any excitement for. Most everything else feels hollow, like I’m just going through the motions.

Nothing seems to matter. Nothing seems to make a difference. I’m tearing up at the drop of a hat. Just last night, I was sniffling while listening to The Cars’ “Just What I Needed.” WTF?!

The fires keep coming, and I’m expected to put them out, to deal with the crises laying all around me. And I barely have the fortitude to get out of bed, let alone take care of problems or go do Tai Chi.

I feel unworthy. Unloveable. That fucking Permeable Teflon skin of mine. Bad goes in, good slides off. It’s automatic.

And when I have conversations like this, it gives me pause. I’m in green, by the way.

I hate when people tell me I need to agree with nice things said about me.

It’s that last bit that is so problematic for me. But Angel, she’s a smart cookie. Maybe you don’t see what she did there, but she used LOGIC. Because logic trumps emotion with me.

It’s the last sentence that really hits.

Your friends kick ass, and they love you, so you must not suck.

That’s a statement of logic. Three of them, actually.

1. Your friends kick ass. TRUE.

2. They love you. TRUE. I’ll accept this, even if I fail to see why most of the time.

3. So you must not suck. ???

That part, I’m struggling with. The first two statements are true, therefore…the last part must also be true. I mean, that’s the logical conclusion, right?

But soaking it up, as Angel says, is not just easier said than done. It’s nigh impossible. So she brilliantly played the logic card, and I’m fighting hard to negate it. Which seems stupid, mostly because it is. Why on Earth would I choose to reject love? Reject nice things? I don’t know the answer to that, exactly.

If I’m loveable, if I don’t suck, if I’m not the horrid vile person the voices in my head tell me I am…then what the fuck AM I? I’ve been this person for 43 years. If I take away the bad shit, what if there’s nothing left holding me together?

I don’t know how to be anyone else. I don’t know how to feel loved, to feel worthy, to feel…good. And it’s a very real threat to me, this loss of all the bad shit. Who am I without it?

I must not suck.

Does not compute.

And is this my midlife crisis, by the way? I’m due for one, I suppose. I’m middle-aged. It doesn’t FEEL any different than my usual depression and angst, though. I’m still not longing to sleep with 23-year-old’s or to drive red sports cars, so that’s something. Unless it’s a red ‘66 Mustang with USB connectors.

Seriously, if I HAD a midlife crisis, would I even fucking know it? I mean, I’m in crisis now. I’m at the middle of my life.

Shit. I am having a midlife crisis.

Fuck, who needs a drink?

--- Thanks for reading! SecondHand Tryptophan

SUBMISSIONS ARE NOW CLOSED. THANKS FOR DARING ME TO DO WEIRD STUFF.

Many thanks to my amazing guest bloggers the last several days. Again, for those of you that are new to SecondHand Tryptophan (2HT), the Summer of Love is a tradition. Every July and August, I get amazing guest bloggers to post here four days a week. It continues through the end of this month, and I love every moment of it. Not just because I don’t have to write every day, but because I adore all these people and it gives me warm fuzzies to see their writing on MY blog. And I’m selfish like that.

Time for More Tradition.

Now, it’s time to talk about ANOTHER annual tradition here at 2HT. My Birthday Dares. For a long, long time, my birthday was just another fucking day to me. Nothing special. But when I was about to turn 40 a few years back, I thought, “Shit, I’m about to be 40. That’s HUGE, right? I can’t just treat this like another day.”

And so I put the word out to my readers, asking them to help me think of something wild and crazy and big to do for my 40th. And they responded in droves. I decided to choose five of those suggestions/dares and film them, then release one video a day in the days leading up to my birthday. And a new tradition was born.

That first year, I did the following:

• Ate Vienna Sausages with my toes
• Ate Pop Rocks while drinking Coke Blak (and it was nasty, but I didn’t die)
• I rocked it like Superman
• I danced to the Pussycat Dolls. In PUBLIC.
• And as the Grand Finale, I went skydiving.

I skipped the next year, but picked the tradition back up last year with more zaniness, thanks to great suggestions from my friends.

• I started out the Birthday Dare Season by eating Mentos and drinking Diet Coke. Apparently, there are those of you out there just DYING to see me explode. First, the Pop Rocks and Coke, then the Mentos and Diet Coke.
• I drove through the Burger King drive-thru wearing nothing but an adult diaper.
• I dyed my hair blonde. Not that I HAD a lot of hair at the time, because I had just recently shaved my head in solidarity for Lisa. Fuck, how I miss Lisa.
• I had my lower back waxed
• And for last year’s Grand Finale, I filmed a music video for Katy Perry’s “I Kissed a Girl.” NSFW, by the way. I kinda feel stupid saying that, really, because my whole BlOG is really NSFW, but whatever.

So Here’s Where I Ask For Your Help

My birthday is next month, peeps.

And so this is the OFFICIAL call-out for this year’s Birthday Dares. What crazy-ass shit would you like to see me do?

Submit as many ideas as you like and I will choose five of them and film them. I’m not saying I’ll pick the BEST five, just the five I’m most willing to do.

There will be prizes for those people that suggest the Birthday Dares I actually film. I don’t know what those prizes are gonna be yet, but hey…it’ll be free shit so you really don’t have room to be picky.

Deadline is 11:59 PM (Eastern Time) on Sunday, August 30.

Psst, pass it on. Tell your friends.

And thanks in advance for helping make my birthday every year NOT just another fucking day.

--- Thanks for reading! SecondHand Tryptophan

Hello, blog. It’s been a while. I mean, aside from the weekly announcements for SecondHand Radio.

I almost feel a little bashful around you these days. We barely know each other. But I thought we should get reacquainted, since you’re going to see a lot of activity for the next couple of months.

See, tomorrow is the official start to The Summer of Love ‘09, two months chock full of amazing guest posts here at 2HT. Four days of guest bloggers every week – Tuesdays, Thursdays, Fridays, AND Saturdays through the end of August.

And my plan is to fill in the gaps on the other three days a week with my own stuff. Been a while since I’ve done the daily posting thing…a LONG while. So I’m going to use the Summer of Love as incentive to get back on the blogging horse. We’ll see how it goes.

In the meantime, for those of you curious who will be residing this Summer at 2HT, here’s a short video with the full lineup.

Here’s the video link if your name is Sybil and you can’t see the video.

--- Thanks for reading! SecondHand Tryptophan

Saturday night, as my Twitter followers may have seen, I donned a very infrequent suit and necktie to go to the annual Red & White Ball here in Highlands county. It’s a charity event for the Red Cross, which does hella good work.

I still recall when my grandmother was sick with cancer back in 1989 and 1990. I was stationed in England in the Air Force for a few years. The Red Cross quickly got word to me that Grandma was really sick. They do that for all military personnel, you know, contact you in the case of emergencies.

Naturally, they do far more than that…providing emergency relief for families after all sorts of disasters, putting up shelters as needed, etc. They’re a good organization.

Despite that, it’s hard for me to think of the Red & White Ball now without remembering that the event is partially responsible for getting me fired last year around this time from a newspaper column I’d written for several years.

OK, it wasn’t really the event that got me fired. I got Karled because of my blog. Ironically, the very same newspaper that fired me because I dared mention that they didn’t provide any journalistic coverage at the event they helped to sponsor? Well, they didn’t have a presence there on Saturday night, either. I thought that was pretty crappy. A little town local newspaper couldn’t bother showing up to one of the big events of the season?

It’s all good, though. Now I’m working for a much better place, a place that doesn’t give a shit about what I may post on my personal blog.

I had a passable time at the ball, nonetheless. I mean, there was alcohol. I can’t help but feel uncomfortable, though, whenever I’m stuck in a suit for hours. Just not my natural attire, but I get it. They don’t want naked people showing up at charity balls. That’s cool. There were a few kids present.

Last year I won 6 or 7 items in the silent auction, which set me back like $300. This year I couldn’t do that, with all the traveling coming up on my plate. But they did things differently, anyway. Instead of a silent auction, they had what they called a Chinese Raffle. Ever heard of that? I hadn’t.

Basically, you buy raffle tickets. In this case, they were 6 for $25. Then you wander around with your tickets to the various prize packages in the lobby. There were gas grills, flower baskets, packages revolving around the Highlands Little Theater, you could even win an autographed photo of John Forsythe!

My friends, Darrel and Candy, won a new microwave, plus various food gift certificates in their package. Even got to try out the new microwave at their house for Easter supper yesterday.

Anyway, you take the tickets and you drop as many as you want in the glass fishbowl in front of your desired prize package. Then they draw a lucky winner out of each bowl as the night wears on. Fun way to do things, plus I suppose it’s a potentially bigger money earner than a silent auction.

Even though big ritzy events aren’t really my thing, I go because it’s (1) for a good cause, and (2) because friends (who I really think of as family) help to organize and run the event.

After several hours of enjoying the company at the Red & White Ball, ogling beautiful women in beautiful red dresses, and a couple of bites of very rich chocolate cake (hey, a couple of bites helps tide over my internal Chocolate Freak), it felt really nice to come home and immediately strip out of my suit.

It always reminds me, wearing a suit, of working in the corporate world. Once upon a time, that’s what I did. For years I felt strangled by cube farms and dress codes. I swore I’d break free of those environments, and yes, it took a nervous breakdown for that to be realized, but still. One man’s breakdown is another man’s silver lining, or some such bullshit.

I’d much rather be in shorts and t-shirts and faced with the Blue Moon dress-up, than the other way around. I’m a simple man. Just dress me comfortably while nubile women in French maid outfits fan me, put grapes into my mouth, and keep bringing me pint glasses full of Guinness. Is that asking too much?

--- Thanks for reading! SecondHand Tryptophan

Go away, I’m not here.

I’m over at Wayne’s blog today, guest posting.

--- Thanks for reading! SecondHand Tryptophan

Tonight is another episode of SecondHand Radio and my guest is the beautiful cop, Shash from Diary of a Crazed Mommy. Shash is a ton of fun to hang with…I’m hoping to do it again soon. She’s funny, pretty, intelligent, and full of grace.

And she’s all mine for a full hour tonight at 10pm Eastern!

Tune in tonight. There’s a chatroom where you can join in on the fun. It opens at 9:45pm. You’re welcome to call in, too.

The call-in number is 724-444-7444, Call ID is 23738.

Woo hoo! I booked my plane tickets yesterday for Tequilacon! I’m flying into Albuquerque April 24, renting a car, driving to Santa Fe, partying down, leaving whenever on Sunday, and driving down to my old stomping grounds, Alamogordo.

Never heard of it? No surprise. Regardless, I have a lot of history there. Graduated high school in the top 50% of my class, lost my virginity, and met my future ex-wife there. So I thought I’d go visit for a few days. Haven’t been back to Alamo since my 20-year reunion.

The only thing left to do is book my hotel in Santa Fe because the venue hasn’t been announced yet. All you cool kids who are going…let me know if and when you book your hotel so we can stay together, OK? Not in the same room, necessarily, but in the same hotel. I wouldn’t subject most of you to the WJP.

So I went to the doctor last week for a follow-up and my nipple markers must have done the trick because the x-rays came back clean. Whew!

And my doctor says to me – again – “Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?”

For sure, this time, she’s going to ask me if it’s okay for her to expose herself to me. Right? Two visits in a row she asks me this question?

I smile and say, “Sure.”

I’m sure she’s about to unbutton her blouse, show me those olive bosoms. Everything starts moving in slow motion. Someone off set starts a strong fan that’s blowing her hair around in a sexed-up Whitesnake-video fashion. She smiles and slowly, oh so slowly, rakes her tongue across her highly-glossed lips.

Then she says the four magic words: “What is that ring?”

POP!

My bubble bursts and, much to my dismay, there are no free-range breasts roaming anywhere in the room.

“The ring?”

“Yes,” she says, pointing to my hand. “That ring you’re wearing, what is it?”

I looked down at my hand, which was not at all pinching her nipples, and there it was. A ring.

“Oh, yeah,” I said. She doesn’t know what that is? And she’s in charge of my medical care? “It’s a cross.”

“I know what it is,” she says, “but what does it mean to you?” And here we go again. The last time she asked me a personal question it was about my eternal salvation. Now we’re going to discuss religious iconography.

“It’s a symbol of Christianity,” I say. Am I going to have to teach CCD to my doctor?

“Yes, I know. You’re a Christian?”

“Well, it would be an awfully silly thing to wear if I wasn’t.”

“Lots of people wear crosses and it doesn’t mean anything more than a fashion accessory to them.”

“True, but I’m not one of them,” I say.

“So you’re a Christian.” It’s a statement this time, not a question.

“Yes.”

“Can I ask what -”

“Catholic.”

“Oh,” she says. One of those. “Catholic?”

“Yes.” Now can we commence the striptease? I’ve got my iPod in my pocket and I can have “Here We Go Again” playing in less than 4 seconds.

“What church do you go to?” she asks.

“Well, I haven’t been going much [at all] lately, but St. Catherine’s. Close to downtown.”

“Yes, and what is it that Catholics believe?” This is one of those loaded questions, I find, that non-Catholic Christians like to ask. I don’t know what they expect to hear.

Oh, we’re Pagans through and through. We worship statues and bow at Mary’s feet and occasionally sacrifice a lamb.

“The same thing that most Christians believe. Christ died on the cross for our sins,” I say.

She nods. Then she asks me about people praying to Mary, and saints, and praying the rosary, and all those evil things that all Catholics do. And I smile and answer her questions, more educated than a lot of Catholics because I chose to become Catholic as an adult. And I asked lots and lots of questions.

So it’s clear to me she’s likely a non-denominational Christian, which is fine with me. I have no problem with that. I’m not one of those Catholics that believe that the Catholic Church is the only way to finding God. I think God calls us each somewhere, and we should answer that call, wherever it takes us. Jews, Baptists, Methodists, Buddhists, whatever. As long as you’re not Pentecostal. Those snake-handling bastards are fucking crazy.

I kid, of course. Sort of.

We have a nice, pleasant conversation about Christ and religion and Catholicism for a few minutes and all my fantasies about asking her out – inappropriate as that may be – come to a crashing halt.  I’m not an evangelist and she happens to believe we should ALL be evangelizing. Clearly. She’s doing it in a freaking doctor’s office.

She asks me if I’m sharing the Word, which is the job of all Christians, and I lie and say yes. I’m not. Not actively, anyway. I’m not a proactive Word-Sharer. Maybe that’s a bad thing but all I can think of at the moment is what it was like living as an atheist, what a turn-off it was to hear Bible-thumpers thumpin’ that Bible. And I know in my heart that the best way to share the Word is to live it and not just talk about it. Set an example.

Not that I’m any great example, mind you. Obviously. I’m sure Jesus wasn’t out in the Holy Land, fantasizing about women’s hair blowing in slow motion to a Whitesnake soundtrack. He prefers The Doors.

I remember when I wrote about my last visit to the doctor, how offended some of you were, that a doctor would ask about religion. That doesn’t bug me. I’m happy to talk about my faith, such that it is, with most anyone who asks. That’s because I’m a REactive Word-Sharer.

I just wonder if next time she’ll remember that I’m a Christian so she doesn’t have to establish it yet again. I mean, she did notice that I had new glasses this time, which is something. Hmm, maybe she has a just-as-hot younger sister who likes a little sacrificial lamb once in a while.

Oh, and here’s a new shirt from the SecondHand Store:

More Popular Shirt by karlerikson
Design Custom Shirts At Zazzle.com

--- Thanks for reading! SecondHand Tryptophan

CONTEST

Don’t forget to leave me your double dog birthday dares on this post. Leave a comment with a dare and you might win a prize. Deadline is Friday at midnight.

Well, my first week at Famecrawler is already over. Hard to believe. I’m all loopy from a wacky sleep schedule, and sleep deprivation, but slowly learning the ropes. You have added Famecrawler to your feedreaders, right? I’m not saying that I get paid traffic bonuses or anything, but I’d sure appreciate you clicky-clicking on all my stories.

I’m confident that some time this week, I’ll actually get around to someone’s blog other than my own and Famecrawler’s. The feedreader, as always, is coughing and sputtering.

Thank God for my friends. Yesterday, 2HT was doing its own coughing and sputtering and done did died for a while. Long story short, I went insane for a couple of hours and then deactivated all the plugins, reactivating them one at a time and refreshing the blog after each add. It’s back up and running, thanks to Justin, Vahid,  and DutchBitch’s suggestions.

It’s officially September and that means my 42nd birthday is mere weeks away. Meh, I’m not all that jazzed about it, really. I’m sure I won’t be doing anything on the big day. Good thing I have those dares to look forward to.

I’m woefully behind on television, too. And with the new season coming up, I need to head over to the reborn Snackie TeeVee and see what the hell the new schedules are looking like. Surely you heard that Snackie TeeVee is back, no? Head on over there and check it out. It’s all shiny and new-like.

--- Thanks for reading! SecondHand Tryptophan