Tag, I'm it....

Kinda hung over today (my tolerance just SUCKS these days!) so I'm thinking about dessert. And since I don't forsee anyone tagging me anytime soon with one of those clever surveys of song or such I'll tag myself (lord knows, it's not the first time).

From www.purpletwinkie.com

1) Favorite cake: cheesecakes, particularly the coffee or liquor flavored ones.
2) Favorite pie: Pumpkin
3) Favorite cookie: Warm macadamia nut cookies, also peanut butter
4) Favorite pastry: eclairs
5) Favorite specialty dessert: blueberry shortcake

My Spot

Cream Filled Please

Been having dreams about infidelity lately. My mom seeing my dad with some woman at the flea market (flea market?!?!?). My friend got caught just before his baby was born, even my god father visited me last night in some very very cool city to let me know he's getting a divorce (he's not married, is he?) I'm starting to wonder what it all means. Maybe I shouldn't have had that eclair before bed. Well, now that I think of it, I really shouldn't have had that eclair. yum.

Six Feet Under

As far back as I can remember I've always had a sense of life as a temporary state. Not so much in a morbid way but really understanding how important it is to grasp the moment. Butterflies dancing joyfully up from my grandmothers grave; my mothers kiss and father's carrying me to bed at night; those silly conversations that occur half-way through a bottle of fine wine.

The mistake that I've made in this sense is to mourn the moment before its fully passed. I think sometimes that I live in dread. I hear myself being irritable and mean, but am coming to find that it's out of sadness; loneliness; knowledge. Knowledge of the temporary state.

As Nate said tonight, "You can't take a picture of that, it's already gone."

You're a peein'

It's so nice out! Noon in the southeast and the temperature is currently 75. Beauteous. Last night I even got to sleep with my windows open, one of my favorite things to do. I got into bed at around 10:30, let the dog curl up close (it was almost chilly!) and cracked open my new copy of "That's MISTER Faggot to You!" As this book is the most boring, bitter thing I've stared at since Tom Cruise, I was asleep in no time.

Sleeping with windows open is Risky Business (sorry) as boxers are bred to be guard dogs and bred well they are. The dog likes to toss and turn all night, is afraid of the fan, and will perk up to even the slightest scurry outside my room. At 3:30 or so I rolled over, apparently only partially awake anyway, and put my hand right in a wet spot, on my mattress, and not the good kind. MY dog left a spot and was, of course, laying on the opposite side of the bed from it. I always thought it was embarrassing to watch my mom smell urine, but god, it's so much worse to realize you're doing it yourself.

I don't know what it is, it had no color, and little to no smell, but seemed to have seeped (yuck) through the blanket, sheet and into the mattress. There is absolutely nothing like getting up at 3:30, putting your nose into what very well may be dog piss, and then have to scrub your mattress, only to look up and realize your shades are wide open. In a townhouse. With many many neighbors.

I did not sleep well last night.

I'm an asshole...

So, I have these neighbors. These two ladies (adult woman and her daughter) moved in from NY about a year or so ago. The daughter is in middle school around here and is the picture perfect adolescent female (i.e. totally ca-razy...) I like them both, for what they are: my patio friends. I like to sit on the back porch with the mother (to be referred to from now on as "my girlfriend. This is what my boyfriend calls her.) We will smoke cigarettes, share neighborhood news, and the like... Sometimes we will have a beer... These are the parts I like.

We will also: listed to her whine, not let me go inside even after persistent and blunt comments about having to eat, relieve myself, mail a turd to the superintendent.. Whatever... I can't get away from them... And now my girlfriend has asked me to go to a movie with her... There is no theatre on my back porch. I have resorted to smoking out front, where it's sunny and miserable, but they've caught my plan. They now knock on my front door and ask stupid question (you want some tomatoes?)

I also like to think I like having friends, and that I'm a friendly person, but jeez... The hunky guy across the court has never brought his chiseled chest over to see what I think... Nope. With me it's the pushy NY'r and her daughter. I'm an asshole.

What it is to be "FREE"

At church we have a song, psalm, whatever, called "What it is to be free." (okay I just googled that and it seems I have the name wrong, butttt....) When I first started attending I was in crisis and this was the first song we sang. I was fighting one last battle with myself over my sexuality and losing. I was bringing down everyone with me. This was the song that changed my life into one of (more) consistency and fulfillment. I've been thinking again lately about what it is to be truly free in your life. Here are my thoughts on the topic....

To live with a clean conscience
To live in the present with plans for the future
To live outwardly and with purpose
To reserve judgment
To live for yourself and those that love you
To let go of those that do not
To forgive those who hurt you
To forgive yourself when you hurt
To allow yourself to dream
To allow yourself to act foolish sometimes
To allow yourself to grow up
To allow yourself to remain a kid
To maintain your health
To continue to search for moments of beauty
To organize your time and home
To spend more time in the gym than you do in the mirror
To keep your knives dull and your jokes sharp

Last Dance

Played my last show with the band on Saturday. It must have been the most awkward show we've played thus far, which seemed so fitting. Four straight (as far as they know) folks singing loud rock and roll to a room full of wild wonderful lesbians. They ate it up, man. They loved us, I loved them.

Anyway, not much else to tell about it although it was pretty emotional for me, having decided going in that I'm done with the group. I noticed that "time of your life" was playing before we went on, and that Duran Duran song (I wont cry for yesterday...) after. Very cool, and no accident I'm sure. I love when I can hear my soundtrack playing.

I did talk to K about starting a new group to perform his stuff and he was very into it. I hope that gets off the ground soon. This new job may really take up some serious time.

RIP SH. Seems that decisions like these are easier with age. I would be the last one to leave five years ago. I love when I make the right choice, it does happen sometimes.