Friday Fantasy


If I could be anywhere today, and for the long haul, I'd be in Asheville, waking early in my 1920 something bungalow. I'd carefully remove my husband's arm from about my waist as not to wake him. My plush robe and huge fuzzy slippers maintain my heat in the brisk morning chill as I head down the hall to start the morning fire.

On the way I peek into my sons' room to catch the blissful look of four and six year olds deep in slumber, careful not to hit the spot by their door where the hardwoods creak the worst. Copper jumps down from the foot of the young-one's bed and happily follows me into the kitchen to do his part in getting breakfast started (which generally consists of curling up on the throw in front of a freshly roaring fire). The low fall sun is streaming softly through the windows, broken up by the branches of the giant oak out front, and the morning traffic softly picks up beyond.

From behind me I hear the 'slish-slish' of small footsied feet and hear my favorite words in the entire world: "morning daddy."

Sad Monkey


So, I may have figured out what is happening here, although I'm no shrink, and certainly am not in a place to afford one...

I'm pushing people away, that much is clear. It started about a month ago when someone I deeply care for kind of tossed me aside, and really hurt me deeply.

I've always felt awkward, an outsider. It's always been evident that I just don't quite fit in, well, anywhere... So I go through these cycles of depression, I think, related to feeling isolated and alone. How do I deal with feeling alone? I push people away. I push and push to test and see who remains, which, of course causes me to feel more isolated and alone.

I think. For example: I was invited to go to a party Saturday night. I'm not much of a party person, as I'm not great at making small talk with large groups of strangers. I can't remember names, I can't remember whether I've seen them before, I get paicky, it's a mess. Anyway, I wanted to go to this party, I really did. These are fun-loving folks who feed me at least one a week and have shared many hours of good fun conversation. I didn't go because I wanted a special invite. I needed to know they really wanted me there. It's so pitiful, but I belive that's what it was. As soon as it was too late to go I was down in the dumps and regretted not attending. I pushed them away

Let's see... I also made a stupid assumption about a fellow bloggers post and resorted to writing about it below. I apologize for that, but I suspect (and I could be wrong) that I was fishing for a reaction. That's ridiculous, and pathetic, but may just be true.

Ugh, anyway, this is where I am right now. There are more examples, but I don't even want to continue thinking about them. This is where I've been for a very long time, and this is where I continue to guide my life.... Sorry for stepping on those toes along the way, we do the best we know how.
Annual High Heel Race in DC

And people can't understand why I'd want to live in DC???

I'm going through changes

That's the name of the WORST Black Sabbath song, and I challenge any other gay man to know that...

Anyway, I've decided: I'm sick to death of this blog.... While the blog started as a place for me to freely express myself it's turned into a product by which I rate my abilities; I hate that I'm trying to please. Comments down? I've got to write something self-deprecating and wrenching. Nothing note-worthing happening? Must post bogus graphics just to be sure people come back.

Honestly, I don't give a shit. I dont care if you come here or not. I dont care whether my life impresses you and mor eoften than not I dont care for your advice. I dont care if my writings piss you off (they are about me, not you)... Okay I do care, but am surprised that my honesty has come back to bite me in the ass.... You think it was tough to hear? You should've been there when I wrote it!

So, if you care to continue to cruise through my inner workings and bullshit amateur writings? Great; have at it. If you're just here to lure me to your site so you can share details about your first sexual experience with a government employee (he's nervous because it's a felony, NOT because he cares).. Then go away. Please.

*don't listen to a word of it... what an asshole!!! hehe, cute, huh?... a little drunk, in a funk... but I will be removing comments from the blog for a while... I'll post for myself and you're all welcome to read along, if you'd like... As we teachers tend to say, "I'm glad you're here..." I'd remove the entire post if I hadn't set the one rule: to never go back and take away anything I'd written... stupid rules...

(c) http://www.atento.ru/pornoname/

Don't you know I love you?

Who are your top ten? Who are those celebs/ stars/ that, if they showed up on your doorstep today, you'd drop everything for "shared time"? Glenn Kotche is my number one. I've watched him play about five times, I've spoken with him once. I love him.

Anyway, WILCO played at the 9:30 in DC last night and NPR has the show stored to listen to anytime (or all the time). Pay special attention to my boyfriend in the kitchen. Is it any coincidence that the best damn drummer in popular music plays for the best American band?

100 Day Rant


I quit smoking 100 days ago today. After 12-14 years of addiction I have put down my smokes for good, and I don't miss them a bit. Last night the boy and I ran into a friend I have not seen in years and in talking with him we found that he and his wife, after watching their daughter grow for the past two years, have started smoking again. Upon absorbing this revelation the voice of my evil twin popped up to remind me, "hey, he's a together guy; if he can smoke, surely you can smoke too." After three-plus months the most important skill I've gained is shutting that self-destructive voice down. I know the origin of this voice (addiction and lack of esteem), the intent of this voice (resistance to change, instant gratification and lies) and the danger of this voice (this is the voice of self-doubt and insecurity, responsible for causing me to freeze in the face of change or risk). Recognizing and knowing this voice, combined with strengthening and conditioning my conscious inner voice to affirm my quit allows me to maintain control at difficult times, andnot just smoking related times. The key, I think, is that I'm continuing to figure myself out and, very slowly, take the steps to get where I'd like to be. I seem to be a slow learner and anticipate my arrival to be delayed, significantly.

Sick. Sick. Sick.


Today is my third sick day home from work and I'm nothing but bitter about it. Tomorrow is 100 days since my quit but it seems like I've been sick for at least 90 of those days. Yesterday was a beautiful day, which I slept through, with a drama filled staff meeting which I missed. Today it's 45 degrees outside (beautiful!), I was supposed to meet friend for lunch, friends at the bar, and go to Durham for a drum circle. Cancelled, cancelled and cancelled.

I'm so tired of this shit... Wasted $20 at the doc yesterday for him to tell me that it's viral and nothing can be done. Speaking of tired, time for my first nap of the day...

Nerve (with update)


It takes nerve, I tell ya. Moments ago (the sweat is still fresh on my brow, and my right middle finger is strangely numb) my doorbell rang. 9 times out of 10 this is not a good thing. Either the boy is being a pussy and doesn't want any neighbors to see him letting himself in, or it's one of my annoying neighbors.

It was an annoying neighbor. I opened the door to be greeted by a face full of 2nd hand cigarette smoke fresh from the nasty mouth of the nosy neighbor's husband (the boy calls him, "the mean neighbor.") His son is the one who used to call me faggot, until he finally learned my name, and they shipped him to private boys boarding school. (I bet he really knows what a faggot is now!)

Seems the mean neighbor and his nosy bitch wife won some money at a casino, which is great. They have an abandoned car with a busted out window full of old computer parts, sitting in front of their rented townhome. He no longer drives and lost his job so is forced to work at the gas station and then Red Robin restaurant up the block, so he can walk. Their OTHER car had the license plate 'stolen' by a guy who looks just like the mean guy, and have been driving with a 'lost tag' sign stuck to the back of their Escalade for the past month.

So they could use the money.

So they bought a TV. Their car is an impulse buy on wheels. I saw clothes, electronics, toys, bags and bags and bags of shit. And a 32" TV. Which he asked ME to help him carry. Fucker.

So I did. I went over and helped this asshole carry his brand new fucking TV into his trashed nasty living room feeling, all the while, like the used pathetic loser I am. Anyone else would have said no. Anyone else wouldn't have been so nice to these drug runners so they wouldn't have the nerve to ask. Not me. My way is to be passive-aggressive about it. How, you ask?

He asked me to help carry it. He didn't say don't drop it. On the floor. In the living room. On his foot.

** Update: Went by the mean neighbor's door yesterday and he was perched just inside the door with it open, smoking a cigarette from his wheelchair. Seems that, while installing his surround sound, MN fell from a second story ledge inside his living room and landed flat on his feet, smashing BOTH heels. Ouch.

Blue Sunday




I haven't done a Blue Sunday post in a long time. Being artsy is the best way to get myself through a lonely, bluesy kinda Sunday, which many of them are. For some time now I've been collecting these rusty old washers and nuts... I find them everywhere all of the sudden. As someone in church this morning said, "I don't know what it means, but I know it means something." This is all I've come up with so far.




This nut is named Copper