A word from my sponsor:

This is not a real ad. I created it to poke fun at a famous blogger who always picks on me. He is going to die of embarrassment when he see's it. Hee hee. All in fun! :)

Jenny from the Block

It amuses me when I meet others who only know me through this blog or FB. They nervously wonder if I am truly the asshole I portray. Surely, Jay must have pondered this as we shared a room in Biloxi.

I have blogged for five years and cranked out 1,429 posts. Do I write about the pleasures of leisurely laying on the couch with Jean Pierre (my Daschund)? No. That would be sooo gay. It's not the image I want to project.

Making my Brettcajun character an egotistical, opinionated, and politically incorrect ASSHOLE is much more fun! ;)

Bloggers do show a side of their personality online. If I wrote it, you can believe I felt it. However, it does not give a complete picture to my very essence. I am choosing to show you only what I want to show you.

Where am I going with this? There are individuals out there who will have you convinced everything in their world is white picket fences and wholesome gooeyness. The reality? YOU SHOULD RUN! If they are too goody two-shoe appearing, they are probably the freakiest.

How do we differentiate between the truly sweet and those who are douchey/bonkers? We must do our own research. Ask others who have actually met them in person. Therein lies the truth.

MEAUX CHAMPIONS:

Jay, a blogger and fellow tennis addict, flew down from Planet Hoth (Minnesota) to enter a tennis tournament as my doubles partner. We KICKED ASS and are USTA's newest 3.5 Doubles Champions.

We out-muscled the other teams to win the Championship. Jay had the killer serve and expertly hit monsterous lobs. I was the anchor in consistency and haul-ass ability. To win the Championship, we had to survive three match points. Our strengths made for a potent team. :)

While I now have 8 tennis trophies, this was my first Championship Trophy. One day, I hope to have as many trophies as my idol Sue Sylvester. We are kindred spirits.


I would like to thank Jay for a wonderful weekend. We have a budding friendship which I look forward to continuing. Jay is someone who I greatly admire for his tennis playing skills. He's a fighter that continues to work on improving his tennis game. I admire that trait.

A Samurai in the Land of Squishies:

Precisely one month ago, I questioned my sanity. What have I become? In my mind, I was what every human ought to be -- a warrior in fine fighting form. Life consisted of: gym, tennis, and work. That was it. Anything else was a hindrance.

My typical week consisted of 3-4 tennis matches and three gym workouts. On the rare occasion where I had no gym or tennis, I felt shame. You are like one of them... weak and mortal.

If you were squishy and dared stumble upon my line of vision, it took every fiber of my being to not harshly judge you:

Look at this squishy fool. Inebriated. Fat. He probably can't run around for five minutes without passing out. What a waste.

In my world, survival is based on points, victories, and being measured against others. My motto would be: GIVE ME POINTS OR GIVE ME DEATH! Is this rational? Not at all.

How can enemies be subjugated if you are not armed to the gills? Shouldn't everyone exude power, stamina, and toughness? Isn't life a battlefield where we must be strong to survive? This is my world view.

The tennis courts are a perfect setting to test my battle preparedness. Every week, I battle with others for superiority and league dominance. I need constant affirmation that I am a great warrior. Perhaps it was the way I was nurtured... but it is firmly encoded in my DNA.

On the Farm with Tim:

These pics were taken last weekend with the stud horse George. Tim is the first person I have invited to the Farm since I became single two and a half years ago. He got the whole tour, including seeing my furry rugrats. Tim and Boudreaux (my alpha dog) hit it off particuliarly well.

G@y Panic

I have been reflecting on the posts I have written in the last month. When I shared my feelings about the character of Kurt on Glee, I was lambasted. I did receive (mostly private) support from individuals that shared my viewpoints.

The people most upset were those living in urban areas, many of whom are estranged from their own families. They are the ones who typically post Twitter or Facebook updates dreading spending the holidays with family. They also tend to be the ones most like Kurt.

I received a lot of flack, but I stubbornly stood my ground. The firestorm let me know that I had indeed touched on a hot button issue in the gay community. Who is right? I have spent the last month soul searching for the answer.

It may have come from the most unlikeliest of sources. A tennis court rival, who I call "THE DEVIL", exchanged interesting texts with me recently. He texted, "I finally got u figured out". I wrote back, "Do u? So what's your diagnosis Doc?"

He then sends the following:

Your father constantly belittles you cause you suck cock so you try, in your best high pitched voice to act 'manly'. And you have to attempt to belittle other gays to make yourself feel better. And all of your negativity makes you an unpleasant person to be around. Will make for a lonely existence as you continue to age.

My response? "Wow. That's very true."

The reality of my situation is that my father does not directly belittle me. He does so indirectly. His favorite word to describe people he hates is cocksucker. Just one year ago, he screamed at a nephew for walking down the hall like a girl.

The worst thing I can remember is when I first came-out to the family 13 years ago. My brother informed me that our Dad wanted me to stand up in a meeting with all of my co-workers and admit to them that I was gay. (A public shaming?) I was to ask permission if it would still be okay to work with them. Fortunately, I never had to do that. It does make me teary eyed every time I think about it.

Just recently, I went to a grocery store with a friend. While I know he would have loved to walk side by side shopping for groceries, I didn't feel comfortable with that. I found myself leaving his side to find things in the store we needed. No need to make rednecks gawk. Being from Louisiana (and now living in NYC), my friend knew exactly what I was doing. I got a stern lecture afterward.

When my friend Tim came down from Wisconsin this weekend, he placed his arm around me while I drove. I was okay with that until we were about a mile away from the farm. I began to panic. What if neighbors see a man hugging on me? My face felt flushed with heat and I had difficulty breathing. Either I immediately remove Tim's arm or I suffer in silence. I correctly chose to let Tim keep his arm around me. The last mile was so uneasy for me however.

When we went to my sister's house to play ping pong with my brother and nephews, I requested that Tim not hug and kiss me in front of family. He told me he totally understood and he complied. We had a good time there, but I did feel guilty about the request.

I have made great strides in dealing with my sexuality, but I am not quite there yet. Let's hope 2011 helps me get a little closer to figuring it all out.