I'm allergic to something, to some kind of food product, ingredient or additive. Something. Only I don't know what it is.

All I know is that, every once in a while — within an hour of eating — I get sick ... and how.

First, I start feeling hot. My head sweats, and I get a headache. I start feeling queasy, nauseated. My face gets splotchy — like a rashy breakout, but not itchy or painful. I have to get to a bathroom fast, because it always gives me nasty diarrhea ... and that's not an understatement. I mean, I know diarrhea is nasty. But this stuff is LETHAL to others. This has happened to me five times now — yesterday was the fifth — and three times it also involved vomiting. Several times. Once, dry heaves followed. Blech.

The first time I got it was the worst. I had vertigo as well, which I fucking HATE!! I had to crawl to the bathroom and barely got my ass on the seat and a bucket in front of my face for the simultaneous vomiting/liquid shits. Ewwww. I fucking know! But unless you've never experienced, you don't know how bad it really is. If you have experienced that before, imagine adding the room spinning around at the same time — it was VERY DIFFICULT hitting the bucket while keeping my ass on the stool.

The splotchiness persists for a couple of days. Click on the photo above and you can see the red spots. What's weird is that it's confined to my head and face. Nowhere else gets splotchy — not my neck, shoulders, arms, chest or back. Huh.

Also, it takes me about a full 24 hours before I can keep food down again.

I'm going to try to see my doc this week, to see if he can line me up for a allergy test, so I can pinpoint exactly what it is that makes this happen to me. I think it's either Worchestershire Sauce or MSG. We'll see, I guess.

What totally sucks is that up until a year or so ago, this had never happened to me at all.

It makes me wonder ... did cigarette smoking protect me from the allergy? Was there a chemical or something in the smoke or nicotine that protected me?

It's tempting to start up again, if it means I'll never get that sick ever again ... *sigh* ... but I won't. I've come to far to start smoking cigs once more ... as much as I'd like to ... LOL.

Friday, November 11, 2005

Can anyone explain it to me? Seriously. I mean, I've seen the show on several occasions in the first season. I watched the first two or three or so because of all the hype it was getting. People were talking about it as if it were the second coming of "CSI."

But I just couldn't get into it — not the way that everyone else seemed to get into it. It was a phenomenon that just wasn't all that phenomenal to me. I mean, for some folks that's the ONLY show the watch during the week, and it's all they can do to hold in their excitement before the next episode. They buy Season 1 on DVD to look for clues they've missed, to get behind-the-scenes info. They join or create fan clubs and "Lost" specific blogs. They go through Web site after Web site hoping to get clues about upcoming episodes ... as long as it doesn't SPOIL anything. Some just like the show, but others are totally OBSESSED.

I see that it's different. But really, the concept isn't really all that new. Remember Robinson Crusoe? Same concept, but with a ship and fewer survivors — cast away on a deserted island, far from any hope of rescue, trying to survive in strange and unusual surroundings, having to find shelter, food, etc.

The more modern equivalent, of course, is "Gilligan's Island." There you had multiple castaways trying to get by on a remote tropical island with no seeming hope for rescue. But, of course, "Lost" is no "Gilligan's Island." First of all, it's a drama, instead of a comedy. Second of all, there will never be two hotter castaways than Ginger and Mary Ann.

Of course, "Lost" is more than just a drama about people on a deserted island (and seeming a VERY large island to not be charted or known ... I mean, this is the 21st century, not the 18th) ... it's also a complex character study of a diverse bunch of folks and their former lives BEFORE they crashed, thanks to the overuse of gratuitous amounts of flashbacks meant to draw out the storyline further ...

And "diverse" is the key. It's not just Gilligan, the Skipper too; the millionaire and his wife; the movie star ... the professor and Mary Ann ... it goes WAY beyond that.

We have: the doctor, the fugitive woman, the con-man stud, the fat and slovenly latino multi-millionaire, the rich boy (now dead) and his spoiled brat sister, the ex-superstar musician druggie, the korean mafia couple, the Iraqi Republican Guardsman, the bald paraplegic who can suddenly walk again, the pregnant woman fleeing a cult (now a mom) ... not to mention the pirates, strangers already on the island, including a FRENCH chick.

Let's not forget the "monsters" that turned out to be wild pigs, the polar bears (really? polar bears?), other assorted unknown beasts, possibly dinosaurs and other crap. Oh yes, then you have the extensive tunnel system, fake plants and secret passages, parts of old planes crashed in the jungle canopy, massive underground computer system with a number sequence that has to be entered continuously, some kind of government secret experiment/plot ... etc.

Did I leave anything out? Proof of alien visitors? The remains of Marshall, Will and Holly from "The Land of the Lost"(still the best TV show EVER with the word "lost" in it), or a Sleestak, perhaps? Maybe the "Survivor" cast is on the other side of the island?

I guess I can kind of see the appeal ... I just don't feel it. Maybe it's because I'm just more into crime dramas and forensic kind of stuff. I dunno ... but for now, and likely forever, I will never be lost without "Lost."

Let the drubbing and comments calling me crazy and unappreciative of television genius begin!!

Random Guam Fact Of The Day:• If there were any southern Chamorro boys who survived the plane crash on "Lost," there would have been a shelter up by the end of Day 1, and there would be a steady supply of fish, shellfish, eel, etc. for the table.

Thursday, November 10, 2005

I was looking for both of these pics when I did my last hair post, and stumbled across them while cleaning, so I thought I would share them with you, since the hair post was one of most popular, seemingly. LOL

This was just a few months before I decided to start going with the high-and-tight cut. I was still in college and still no one had told me how bad my glasses were, and I was wearing around prescription sunglasses all the time, even at night. It's also before I pierced my right ear, but also back in the time when I wore earrings daily.

This one is several months after high school. It's almost a sort of a modified, wimpy mohawk — NOT long enough to be a mullet! LOL. This wasn't an official "night out" so the hair isn't super spiked and gelled up. This was just a month or so before I tried to get the sides dyed blonde and ended up with reddishness instead. This was also taken just a few days before I got my left ear pierced — which I did when friends I'd graduated high school with were visiting me in Nebraska over winter break so my dad wouldn't beat me up (no violence in front of the guests LOL). Again, notice the very bad glasses.

HEY!! ANOTHER NEW POST BELOW!

Random Guam Fact Of The Day:• Translations for "Christmas" in the official Chamorro-English Dictionary: "pasgua," "Krismas," "Nabidát" and "Natibidát."

It's always a moment of pure serendipity when I can find a pair of shoes that fit my monstrous feet. It's even a more sublime moment when I can find a pair of BOOTS that I can get my feet into without creating some kind of ancient and forbidden foot torture. So imagine my surprise at finding a pair at Kmart, of all places.

What's even cooler is that I've been looking for a pair of black boots for some time. Why, you ask? (Or do you? Are you actually contemplating skipping past the boot brouhaha?) Anyway, the reason I needed black boots is to complete my Jingle George Santa outfit. Last year, My mom, superior seamstress that she is, made me a pair of pants and a jacket — soft, velvety red with white fuzzy trim, and had a behemothly large and massive leather belt to complete the look. Santa hats are always easy to find — in fact, I have three or four of them. But I couldn't find boots. Last year I had to wear black shoes and while they kinda worked, they just didn't really COMPLETE the outfit. The boots do.

The first Jingle George installment runs this Saturday, with weekly features all the way up to Christmas; next week I will be doing a number of photo shoots in the costume for the articles and the Web site ... ACK!

I say "ack" but I'm secretly juiced about it. Why, you ask? (OK, I'm not going to go there this time. Shit. I think I just did). Well, in case you DIDN'T notice (and shame on you if you didn't, because it's fairly blatant), I'm something of a ham ... OK, I'm a GIANT HAM!

This year, Jingle George will once again be at the grand opening of the Hilton Guam Resort & Spa's Holiday Train exhibit, and I will be taking a few hours to serve as a celebrity bell ringer for The Salvation Army.

Wednesday, November 09, 2005

• A new erotic saga is now up at DZEROTICA. I initially posted Part 1 of yesterday, but got too tired to edit and upload the rest of it — and yes, there are five parts to this piece. I hope you all enjoy it, as it's set on Guam and I use a lot of natural locales that I've been to personally over the years.

• Lots of new photos up on DZER's Guam Pics, all of which I shot earlier this afternoon. Lots of beach art and tropical foliage, designed to make all of you want to come visit my beautiful island and add dollars to our tourism industry. Oh, and to use me as your humble, local tour guide.

On with the show!

This is one of the many geckos that share my apartment. These little lizards are very cool. They eat all kinds of pests, from ants to roaches to gnats and other bugs. My aunt used to leave out saucers with fruit punch or Kool-Aid in iit — when you walked into the kitchen later, there would often be two or three geckos perched on the edge of the saucer, big eyes scanning around while their tongues would flick out to lick up some of the delicious beverage.

I like my drive into work because it's short. I live pretty close to the office, which means I can sleep in a bit later than most and that it's hard to be late. It also means I can come home for lunch whenever I want, whether it's to eat, watch tv or whatever. I do kind of miss my old drive, which was more like 20-25 minutes, because it was far more picturesque. But if I had to choose between the two, I would take the shorter one every time. I'm just lazy like that.

HNT timeMost of you reading this are still in your Wednesday. As of this exact moment, I'm 18 minutes away from the beginning of my Thursday. It's my sad burden to be the first person in the blogosphere (seriously, someone make me stop using that damn term!) to be showing off half-nekkid pics of himself. But I'm a large man with broad shoulders, so I guess I will find some way to live with the onus.

So you get more of the eyes, since they seem to make at least a few of the ladies get a little weak in the knees. I'm sure if I posted half-nekkid pics of other parts of my body, it would have the same reaction ... only followed by uncontrollable vomiting and/or dry heaves, so I will spare you all ... FOR NOW! mwah-ha-haaaaaa!!!

Don't forget ... click on the pics to get a larger version ... if you can handle it! LOL

And no, I didn't type ANUS, ya pervs. You will not be getting a picture of my ass, let alone my defecatory egress point. You will, however, get to look at the scar along the side of my forehead. I picked it up in a stupid fight in the 10th grade from someone's watch. I also dislocated my shoulder in this altercation after having picked the guy up pretty much over my head to throw him into a concrete wall. He slipped out and my shoulder took the full force of a blow that likely would have seriously injured, if not killed the guy, so I guess I'm lucky in that regard.

Random Guam Fact Of The Day:• It is currently 81° Fahrenheit, but it feels like 87° because of the humidity. The high today was 87°, while the temperature dipped all the way down to 79° for the low! Brrrrrrr!! But just so you don't feel TOTALLY envious, we do have a 90-percent chance of rain tomorrow!

Tuesday, November 08, 2005

I received the first submission, as seen above, from the lovely and talented grainne. I got a Halloween card, an envelope with tons of Muppet stamps on it, a funny bumper sticker *pinches grainne*, and a lovely refrigerator magnet. If you can't read it, it states: "mile high club airlines: come see why we have the best service in the sky."

Note: click on the pics for a bigger, more detailed image.

Now grainne was lamenting the length of time it took for the United States Postal Service to deliver a simple card to Guam. I have discovered the problem — a little numerical dyslexia on grainne's part with the zip code ... LOL ... darlin' ... it's 96921, just for future goodies ;)

But isn't it a cute envelope? Check out the back — tons of Halloween stickers! Now, don't you all feel sorry that grainne beat all of you in the snail mail contest? What? You didn't know it was a contest? C'mon folks ... it's ALL a contest!!

Monday, November 07, 2005

I was flipping through some blogs this weekend and in one of them, a blogger by the name of Hot DEB(or something along those lines ... heh) had a post about receiving flowers, including a picture of the said flowers ... though somehow the post mysteriously disappeared later on ... LOL

Anyway, it got me to thinking about the whole flowers thing. In short, how it's all geared at CHICKS! Women ... ladies ... girls. And I can see why the ladies like flowers, and even more why they like getting flowers. And chocolates. And stuffed animals.

But where is the guy equivalent? If a guy wants to tell a girl he's sorry, or that he loves her, he sends flowers. Or candy. Or stuffed animals. If a gal wants to convey that to a guy, what does she send? That's right — nothing! Well, sometimes she sexes him up, I guess. And, come to think of it, chicks never apologize to guys, do they? (Yes, Chrissie, in your case you are NEVER wrong! LOL) But that's another topic.

Why isn't there an equitable service for (non-gay) guys? I have an idea to fill in this huge gap in services: TOOL BOUQUETS! You heard me. If a guy can spring for $40 to $100 (or more) for a bouquet of flowers, why can't a gal shell out the same for some nice quality tools for the fellas? Cheap tool bouquets can be screwdriver or wrench sets. We can never have too many of either.

The more expensive, fancy "bouquets" can be CRAFTSMAN POWER TOOLS, like a cordless drill and driver, trim saw and worklight set! The fella you love will love for providing him with power tools!

And why not extend this to wedding showers and weddings. Why do chicks get to register at places for towels, kitchen items and plates and shit? Sure, it's going to be for "both of them," but don't you think that the same goes for guy stuff like power tools and yard gear? Why can't we register at the Sears Hardward Department? Or Home Depot?

And if guys have to give ladies engagement rings, why don't we get SHIT? Howzabout an engagement riding lawnmower? Or an engagement home theater system?

It's all about equality. You've come a long way, ladies. The whole dowry thing is a relic of the past. It's time for you all to give as good as you get.

I originally wrote the following piece for Latte Magazine, a local publication for which I was the editor-in-chief, for the Aug.-Oct. 1998 issue. I subsequently posted it on my now-defunct homepage. And now I share it with all of you.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

This August (Aug. 1998) marks the second anniversary of my father’s death.

Jesus Cruz George, called “Chu” or “Bai,” died of a heart attack down at his ranch along the Ylig River in Yona on Aug. 24, 1996. He was 55.

It came as a shock to everyone in my family. My father was the rock and the foundation; not just of the immediate family, but of our extended one as well. He was the strong one and he was always there for us. No one could believe it. Not dad. Not Uncle Jess.

Even two years later it’s not easy to come to grips with. He’s gone. He won’t weave us another hat out of coconut palm fronds. He won’t be able to take us into the jungle to catch shrimp and pick pugua. He can’t help me change my oil or make fina’denne’ dinanche or his fried rice or any of his other specialties.

My father was not a great man, not technically. There will be no statues of him in some park. No buildings will be named after him, not even a street.

He served in the Air Force for close to 30 years, retiring at the rank of senior master sergeant. Though he had a ton of decorations, ribbons and awards, he was not a great military man — they won’t name a ship after him or talk of his exploits at the military academies. But his men loved him. He was their teacher and father figure. Those he served under respected him, his judgment and his dedication to the job.

My father wasn’t a great craftsman. But there wasn’t anything he couldn’t fix: lawn mowers, bicycles, cars, washing machines, leaky faucets. In today’s throw-away society, he was a throwback to another time. Why buy a new one when we can fix this one?

Dad wasn’t a great intellectual; he wrote no books, had no advanced degrees. But it was hard to find something he didn’t know anything about. He knew the answers to obscure crossword puzzle clues, knew the answers “Jeopardy” contestants missed, was the king of Scrabble and read voraciously. For a soft-spoken man, he had an amazingly vast vocabulary. He passed on his love of words to me.

He wasn’t a great artist; his work doesn’t grace the halls of galleries and museums. But his drawings sparked wonder in the eyes of his children, his grandchildren and his nephews and nieces. You could ask him to draw anything and he could. And he could weave fans, hats, baskets … anything made out of coconut palm leaves. He could carve, too. He made these large, wonderful spoons with coconut shells on the end. The handles were decorated with carved flowers and a name, painted delicately and carefully. You know those fancy wood nameplates you see all the time on desks? He carved those as well.

My father wasn’t a great educator; he didn’t teach at a big university, or even a small one. But he would always take the time to show you how something was done — how to weave a basket, carve your name, write in Old English letters. He taught anyone who asked and was willing to learn. He taught his children how to swim, how to ride a bike, how to fish. He taught me how to shoot a layup and a hookshot. He taught me how to take care of my car. And so much more.

He passed his values on to his children. Not by telling them what to do, but by showing them. My father stood by what he said — no ifs, ands, or buts about it. He was stern, but never unjustly so. He taught us to play by the rules, to finish something once you started. We learned how to be giving, to help those who needed it. He taught us the importance of an education, always pushing us without forcing us.

Dad always made time for his family. He was always proud of his children and reveled in the joy of his grandchildren. He didn’t let work run his life; there were always plenty of vacations and trips together. He was never rich, but his family was always taken care of, no matter what. If he had to eat chicken necks because one of us was still hungry and wanted the last drumstick, then so be it. We always came first.

So, while he won’t go down in history as a great man, he will be remembered always as a great father, husband, grandfather, uncle and brother. A great friend, boss and worker.

He lives on in the hearts of his family, in what he taught us. As we pass those lessons along, his presence and influence is spread further.

If greatness was measured not by deeds and accomplishments but by love, then there haven’t been many men as great as my father.

Sunday, November 06, 2005

When I was a kid, I wasn't all that picky of an eater. Yes, there were somethings I totally wouldn't eat (lima beans, peas, mixed vegetables, beans and stew, primarily), but there also were a lot of things some people wouldn't dream of eating.

As anyone who has paid attention knows, I'm a big fan of sammiches. Not sandwiches, but sammiches. I like all kinds, from burgers to heroes to subs to Dagwoods. Hot sammiches, grilled sammiches, toasted sammiches. When I'm at fancy Sunday brunches and there is bread available, I make sammiches. Sometimes it's just cheese on a roll, but usually there's meat — whether it's a cold cut or a main course that I stuffed into bread.

I like trying new sammiches, new combinations of bread and meat and cheese and even vegetables (on rare occasions).

This was especially true as a kid. My brother James and I tried a lot of combinations, always trying to outdo each others.

The one that I stuck with for years was this one: Peanut Butter and French's Yellow Mustard on White Bread — the DZER sammich. Oh yes, I'm aware that it sounds VERY gross and nasty. But you know what? It tastes pretty good. At least it did when I was growing up. Plus, it was a CHEAP sammich to boot; always good when you have four brothers and sisters and your dad is only and Air Force master sergeant and your mom is pretty much a stay-at-home mom picking up a few extra bucks with sewing done.

So ... you got the moxie to try it? Go ahead ... what will it hurt? If you hate it after one bite, you can toss it.

So, that's my big sammich invention. What sammich, or other food for that matter, did you invent when you were a kid? Feel free to share. :)

I've been going to the movies much more frequently lately. I've seen some good ones, and some OK ones. Thankfully, no really BAD ones ... at least not lately.

Earlier tonight (technically, LAST night, since it's past 1 a.m. here) I went to go see "Prime," starring Meryl Streep, Uma Thurman and some young boy actor. I'd seen the previews for it at a movie last week, and it looked to be really funny. Luckily, the trailers didn't include all the jokes, or even the BEST jokes, as is far too often the case.

The movie was sweet and funny. It got a lot of laughs from the audience there (surprisingly many for a 10:25 p.m. show) which included me. I did laugh at one or two more subtle jokes that only one or two other people in the audience picked up on, but I'm a subtlety snob like that. So if you haven't seen it already and want a charming, fun and laugh-filled movie, "Prime" is for you — though I'll warn you in advance that it's not the typical, formulaic Hollywood romantic comedy, so be aware of that.

Also, there was one scene in there that was pretty much directly lifted from "Notting Hill." That kind of bothered me. They really didn't HAVE to go there to set the scene; in fact, they didn't fully utilize the premise. It was a wasted theft, when it came down to it. But Uma and Meryl are great in this (and yes, I'd call them by their first names if I ever met them in person!! OK ... so I wouldn't ... *sigh*) and make it worth the ... well, normal ticket prices here are $7.50 ... not sure how much ya'll pay.

Luckily I already had dinner (mad shout out to Hot Pockets) so I wasn't tempted to purchase food snacks from the most exorbitantly priced consumables on the planet. Seriously — airports and movies are the biggest gougers known to mankind. Small popcorn for $3.19 ... Medium for $3.29 ... Gigantinormous (the size of 4 mediums) bucket for $3.49. What the hell? Hotdogs are $3.39 ... nachos about the same. It's better to eat at a fancy restaurant before you head to the movies; you get more for your money, at least.

I did indulge in a cherry Icee ... I'm a sucker for Icees since WAY back in the day.

I got to the theater and through the concession line at the perfect time — five minutes before the scheduled start time. Which, we all knows, means 10 to 12 minutes before the movie actually starts ... unless you're running late, of course. Get there 2 minutes after the scheduled start time and you miss the first 5 minutes of the movie. It's one of those bizarre, alternate-universe Catch-22s.

The timing meant I got my pic of seats ... well, didn't get my favorite spot, but at least I didn't get stuck at the way front. You sit there and need a chiropractic adjustment after the show!

Anyway, like I said at the beginning of this long, drawn out post (I should have warned ya'll so you could have made popcorn!!!), I have been going to the movies a bit more often. I'm a HUGE movie buff — OK, technically I'm a HUGE anything LOL — but I usually watch DVDs. It's just so much easier. No crowds to deal with, more comfortable seating, cheaper goodies, pausing the film when you gotta pee, etc.

Plus, for a long time we didn't have megaplexes here. The movie theaters sucked, especially after a "revamp" that shrank the seats so that only Asian boat people who've been starved for a month inside the belly of a ship could comfortably rest their asses in. So I stopped going to the movies. Thank god for the megaplex here — and even then, only one of them. There's one at the mall and one at the outlet mall ... the mall one sucks. Also lucky for me, the outlet mall one is close — relatively speaking. At night with no traffic, it's only 10 minutes away. It helps that I drive FAST. LOL ... It makes it very convenient for last-minute decisions to go to the movies. Room-a-zoom-zoom, Tink!

Well, there you have it. Sorry Sass, I know it's the second post of the day (though not technically, cuz one was a Saturday post and this one is a Sunday post). Even more sorry to say, I'm sure there will be at least two more posts after I wake up, if not three or four. I'll try to spread them out though ... ;)

Random Guam Fact Of The Day:• A small production company recently shot a movie here (likely to be straight-to-video, at best) called "Max Havoc." Guam's government underwrote part of it, guaranteeing about $100,000 of a loan. Guess what? Yep ... looks like we'll be paying out on that. Freaking idiots. So eager for a "movie industry" on the island that they didn't bother with the fact that this first movie was bound to suck major ass.