New Year's Eve Eve

Funny that we utilize this time of year to set goals/ resolutions (difference?) for ourselves, but it seems the thing to do. I suspect, in my case, that the time between Thanksgiving and New Year's marks our most gluttonous time so when better to be reminded of our misdeeds than New Year's day? I sit here at 7:30 am, unable to sleep because of the higher than average levels of nicotine and beer residues coursing through my system. The caffeine from the Goody's powder I took two hours ago to fend off an impending hangover has got me wired, and my head hurts anyway. It doesn't take much anymore. I didn't get drunk last night, but with enough cigarettes one beer can trap me within my throbbing head for hours. This seems like an opportune time to work through those resolutions; those made New Years Eve are tough to remember the next day (except for, "I will never drink again.")

• Get back to the gym, that is, if your fat ass will fit through the door
• Read Allan Carr's "Easy Way to Quit Smoking"
• Learn to use that camera
• At least research grad school options
• Stick to your three drink rule, always
• Blog more often and more honestly
• Get to church at least once a month
• Get re-involved in church activities beyond poker and service

Alright, that's a start. I will admit I thought of a few more important ones, but nothing I'm feeling ready to commit to right now.

The hillbillies come out at night...

Visited Biltmore Estates on Monday to celebrate my birthday as well as seeing the place at night & fully decorated for Christmas. My favorite quote from the evening?

"They call 'em 'loo-minaries'. They're paper bags with candles in 'em!"
"Well, how do they seal the bag?"

Sometimes they come back

I dreamt last night about my best friend in High School (and long time object of my crush) M.C.. This got me to thinking this morning about those people I knew way back in High School. Many of them I genuinely have no interest in, but some people I really have a desire to know what became of them. The one in particular that I've been so curious about for all these years is S.O.

S.O. was the gay one. He carried his books like a girl, had a way of gliding, rather than walking, down the hall. He stuck out, and in a high school known for nothing besides it's location (middle of a corn field in the middle of no where in Virginia) this stuck out. I shared gym class with him one year, and M.M. (object of my crush. Many fellas were). I distinctly remember one day in the locker room, I was sitting on the bench, with the back of my head perfectly level with, and precariously close to, M.M. tighty'whitied crotch. One turn and he was mine, even if just for a second. From here I could smell him... cough, sorry.. As I was saying... S.O.'s locker was across the room from mine, across the room from everyone, I know he thought no one would remember he was back there. They spit on his locker. On a regular basis guys in the class would spit on his padlock so he'd be forced to touch it to get in to his belongings. I never responded, I will admit, but I also never took up for this guy. When you're already the youngest in your class, trying to get a good look at the star wrestler's package, and a raging punk rocker, it's self-preservation to keep quiet on these things. I will even go as far as to say that I appreciated S.O. for taking the heat off of me. They would never find out about me if they saw HIM as the picture of gay.

I actually pulled out the old yearbook this morning to look up his picture. I happened upon S.O.'s picture as well. hehe (drum roll...) Anyway, I am appalled by what I see. This kid is sitting in his high senior portrait and all I see in his face is terror. (A mother somewhere has that picture on her mantle.) He was nothing but tormented throughout those four years by shit heads who had no idea the impact of their actions, and by wimps who sat back and let them get away with it. Self-preservation. By preserving myself I did a few things which I regret: I allowed this poor guy to suffer outwardly what I was suffering within myself; I allowed these asshole bullies to maintain their status as big shots; and I showed M.M. what kind of guy I really was. M.M. expressed some degree of interest on more than a few occasions. I reciprocated by hiding; silently supporting the "other" side.

AFA= Arrogant Fucking Assholes

"Ford Reaffirms Support for Fairness

The Ford Motor Company released a statement on Dec 14, saying it would feature all of its brands in a 2006 ad campaign in gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender-themed publications. Indications that Ford made a deal with the right-wing extremist group American Family Association to cease some advertising in community publications were put to rest with this announcement. Read the full text of the statement made by a broad coalition of lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender organizations on this news." (hrc)

Glad to see that this ridiculous organization is still not having an effect. Doing much of my shopping this year through Target, just in case.

*follow-up: "Ford shares rose 1 cent Thursday to close at $8.17 on the New York Stock Exchange."

Nancy's Diner

My dream last night: I had some friends over, unexpectedly. The boy was here, and I didn't want some of my friends to know, so he went in the other room. Gradually I noticed that all my friends were coupled and I felt awkward and jealous. Gradually the friends left, and the boy left as well. I was so sad and walked downstairs to gaze out the window. Apparently I forgot that my front window looked into the diner next door, and there were all of my friends, sitting in their little pairs... And damn if the boy was not sitting sith some fake tan, hoop earring'd fag at the end booth, lookin' so very proud of himself. I could barely see him through the glare on the window, but I'm not positive the guy he was with was totally on his side of the glass.

Anyway, I awoke and stared at the back of his head while he slept for at least 20 minutes. Am I unable to trust anymore? Am I unable to deal with his cheating (even after 6 years?) How did I go from not giving a shit to wondering all the time?

December 1