Friday, November 29, 2013
We sat around the table last night, my family, in my house, eating the food I cooked and got. The Mrs. beside me. That marathon is her last for a while--the doctors say she has to have her hip replaced and they have no explanation for how she was able to do that half marathon two weeks ago. She remains emotionally dwarfed by the chemobrain of four years ago, and will have unstable outbursts in private over minor things. To my left is her brother, whose daughter is at UGA in her first semester and loving it. To his left, the sister and her daughter and husband, all tired, thankful not to be having to cook all this and thankful to be able to hold their family together in light of the husband's frequent absences for weeks for work. D-2, blond, fresh in from Arizona with her dog--Fang. D-1, with a lot of drama in her life, what with buying a house in two weeks when she hasn't sold her condo, yanking her diabetic daughter out of parochial school to put her in the public school two blocks away (62% minority--31% hispanic, 20% african american, 7% asian) with 53% on welfare) to the violent objections of the rest of the family, and between she and the Mrs. is her husband, whom we have just come to realize abuses her physically and mentally--not bad for the first year of marriage. The granddaughter is not present, spending thanksgiving with her father. ------I love them all. They are my family, and parts of me physically and historically. I am thankful for them, and tell them so. We all need that--to be reassured that we are wanted. ------I think of Andrew, and hope he is doing well, because in spite of everything I miss him horribly. He really did love me, even if we both screwed it all up. ------I am reminded of the story of the Prodigal Son. We are all prodigals, and we need to love one another.
Thursday, November 14, 2013
Thursday, November 7, 2013
--The leaves turn into amber and gold and yellow and orange, the reds and brilliant colors having passed from the color palette already. It's chilly nights now, but not too cold. Life scampers along on all fronts. Pachelbel's Canon plays in the background--I first heard it in France 43 years ago when I was a student at the Universite d'Aix Marseille at the age of 20, and the vivaciously blond daughter of my host family was so enamored of it that it was all she played. I loved it then, and love it now. It 'validates' life, I'd decided so long ago. --My granddaughter stays the night here at the condo, her mom & husband off for a long-planned weekend trip to North Carolina. So intelligent at 13, so in command of her diabetes and the accompanying minor epilepsy, all of which spewed out last year out of the blue. Smart, quick witted, popular, but afflicted with both teenaged acne and an urban precociousness which irritates the hell out of her father. --I take her to school in the morning, pick her up, transfer possession over to her dad and then high-tail it out of Atlanta for the Rock & Roll Marathon in Savannah, where the Mrs. and D-2 are doing the half marathon again, just as they have done the last two years. --Sunday, we all drive back in various vehicles, and D-2 and I drive out of Atlanta for AZ, along with that fiendish dog of hers which stares silently at my carotid artery whenever it is around me. It loves all other men, but wishes me dead. She'd left it with a friend when she was temporarily transferred out there two months ago, but the friend has taken too much a liking to the beast, so she intends to reclaim it. --Work progresses, becomes easier. I go to bar functions, receptions in the evenings. I hook up on websites., meeting interesting guys. The sex becomes meaningless. Is being gay all it's cracked up to be? I miss those who are important to me, that I wanted in my life. Andrew. The Mrs. When all is said and done, it is the human connection which we crave most. --So I sit here this evening, a 12 year old in the next room sleeping. A wife already in Savannah. And Andrew somewhere, It's dark outside; the cold descends; and I'm going to go pour another glass of wine, --
Sunday, October 20, 2013
Friday, October 18, 2013
------LOL. so the morning begins! In the elevator from my condo down to the parking garage, I glance over at the mirror and suddenly realize I forgot to shave. Returning, and having shaved (cutting my cheek in the process) I put my shirt back on and forget to zip up the pants, which I learn of when I get back into the car 20 minutes later with two Starbucks latte's. Sigh. Oh well. ------It's finally a little bit of autumn now. Leaves on the trees are starting to turn, but not much. On the drive in, the guys outside the homeless shelter had sheets wrapped around them. I'm getting a craving for roasted pork (in the south, fall is when the hogs are ... made into consumer products). ------And it's finally real. After two weekends of being around family and the wife, I learned last night she's off for another two days with the boyfriend. Ahh, well, if Charlie Brown could be fooled by Lucy with the football, so could I. So, it seems that there is no way to salvage the relationship we've shared for 38 years. I pulled out a bottle of champagne and toasted to the future over a chef's salad. ------I need to decorate that place, incidentally. I'm told it's decorated in early Golden Girls.
Wednesday, October 9, 2013
The days whirl. The nights begin with self promises of gainful activity but morph over into catting. What an odd world this is. Dreamt of the Other Half last night. It was not a pleasant dream. He was in distress, for the same qualities which broke my heart. The question was, would I help him,. Dinner with one of my Mentees this evening He's taken a job to help pay for law school. In a sex shop. They were hiring, he shrugged, and they pay $9/hr. This guy is so smart he got an A- on tax of all things!!!!! There's got to be somewhere else he can work. Except he gets a 50% discount on all merchandise. OK, OK, so there's a tradeoff there, somewhere.
Friday, October 4, 2013
October 4th. ===So much has occurred. The Queen got the "all cured" blessing from the oncologist 16 days ago, more than a year before it is normally bestowed on survivors. No one was expecting it. The news has bitch-slapped everyone in the family. for almost four years, death and leukemia has had a place at the table, in the bed at night, standing in the mirror in back of you as you shave, configuring your speech, clouding your perspective day and night. Suddenly behaviors and memories we have lived with for years now are free to go. And it is hard. It is very hard. From the first afternoon at the emergency room when they said she wouldn't make it through the night, to living in her room at the cancer hospital for six week as they repeatedly killed the cells in her body, to watching her walk around like a zombie as the chemo killed off her brain cells as well as the leukemia, to watching her heal and return to work and then seizing that new lease on life and evicting the old tenants. ===I moved out a month ago, into the condo. I am slowly scrabbling together a new life. Most of the gay people I knew stood on the sidelines, probably appropriate, given the emotional train wreck I was. The girls gave me furniture and kitchen things. ===I am wrapping up several days at St. Simon's Island, an exotic island off the coast of Georgia. The family would come here several times per year when the girls were growing up. Now, I can't bear to go the beach or those places we would all go together. I don't want to get maudlin. Too fresh and raw, this change in my life. ===I'm not up to dating yet, but Grindr and Growlr are wonderful friends.
Wednesday, August 21, 2013
Driving into downtown, about to pass by the African American homeless shelter/foodbank which serves as my daily reminder that I have a choice between being there with those downtrodden men and women or being at my job a few blocks up the street, there comes whooshing past me on the right--in the cross hatched lane marked 'stay out'--a sleek honda driven by a black male in his late 30's dressed in a crisp blue striped shirt with designer tie, forcing the assembled homeless and hungry to scatter out of the road so he can illegally pass on the right. Guess that's his comment on the Souls of Black Folk.
Tuesday, August 20, 2013
Busy weeks since last entry--everything rushes headlong into the future. The Diva returns to volleyball, with her insulin pump attached merrily to her side. There's drama with her father, with whom she wants nothing to do. Her mother is doing considerably better, now that the doctors diagnosed what was wrong with her. She's looking terrific, and is back to her old self. I am trying to make the move out as painless and considerate as possible. Hopefully, I'm succeeding. Question: how to furnish it? Take D-1's stored furniture--enough to furnish the entire condo in "I just got out of college!"--or hold off & accumulate on my own. I wish I had been born gay enough to be able to decorate properly. I believe the Queen is off with the
Royal Asshole Interloper Varlet this weekend, so I think this is when I will finish off the move. It is unsettling to watch her, going through her daily activities with not a single concern or thought for those about her. The effects of her actions are invisible to her. She complains how the kids will have nothing to do with her, and cannot see the abandonment she put them through. I'm tired of trying to explain it to her. It's best I go.
And, oddly enough---the day I signed the papers I signed in GRINDR and lo! and behold! I swear there was the Other Half, half a mile away, which would put him back in his old haunts.
Lord, how all things do come around.
Friday, August 9, 2013
After an early morning which was akin to a real Turkish sauna filled with steamy fog and sweaty humidity--which strained even the best of air conditioners the clouds are gone now, with bright blue skies over-arching the city. It is Friday. My day is already full: most of my lawyers and staff took off for today (it's not any type of holiday, is it?); I have my regular morning meeting with the bosses who run the joint (kind of like a Board of Directors meeting, but only legal types in it), then a brief for a Savannah case which has to be filed today. There will be phone calls and an avalanche of e-mails, and news passed from person to person. And today--today!--at 5:00 I get to walk out the door. 'Cause it's Friday. I had a final walkthrough on a condo I'm renting just north of midtown. It's nice; I like it. My real estate agent was very patient with all the looking I'd done. But even she was impressed. It is six miles from the office. For a year and a quarter I have slogged through commute times that ranged from one hour each way on weekends and early mornings, to 2 1/2 hrs each the rest of the time. This in addition to twelve hour days and weekend work. It took a long time to mentally and emotionally adjust to accepting that my life to this point was over, that others had gone on. But I've done that. And, so, I'm ready.
Wednesday, August 7, 2013
The skies are gray and sullen; all summer has been filled with rain. I'm told the produce which explodes out of south Georgia during the summer is 40% of its normal bounty. The garden has been overridden with pests which have devoured the vegetables. Zinnias have done well, however, to the delight of the butterflies and the finches. It took a long time, but with the kids' help I came to realize that everyone else got on with their livess. D-1 went on and got married; her anniversary is this week. D-2 just moved out this past weekend into a house with four other girls intown, taking the barking hound with her. The Queen this weekend was off on another camping adventure with the royal
escort. varlet. dog. boyfriend. Yes. Everyone else got on with their lives . . . . . .except me. And it was time for me to get up and go. So I did:
I've put an application in on a two bedroom rental condo on Lenox Road. Big, roomy, obligatory balcony but with two fireplaces whose functioning is open to question. Rents are outrageous; I don't see how people can live with the cost of housing that high. But I can afford it.
Sunday, July 28, 2013
I sit here, on a Sunday, in my office, pushing through work I couldn't get to this past week. Blue sky outside, puffy clouds. A beautiful late July day. I work too much. I know this. I could say that I do it because it's needed, that the job is demanding. There's an element of truth that I have done this the last fifteen months to get out of the house. Working seven days a week for up to 12 hours each day achieves that. But the song linked at the bottom of this post is one I listened to incessantly while driving throughout south Georgia at the time it came out--what?--ten or so years ago. I worked a lot then, too. I was scared of losing my job. But the money I made took care of my children, provided for my wife, gave me a livelihood. I had not yet met Andrew. But I still worked a hell of a lot. And I was younger then. And like the lyric says, When I am an old man And live by the sea Will all your thoughts fly to me? When I'm far away from the places we’ve known Will all your love bring me home? http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JAODjL8g0oM&list=PLE00ACB82EF779C81&shuffle=462
Wednesday, July 17, 2013
Very busy day. Looked at two properties. The soon-to-be-ex flew out for a week of hiking in Oregon along the trail where they filmed the Goonies. Massive storms engulf the city, lighting the type that destroyed Sodom & Gomorrah licking the city for hours at rush hour. Work intense; one of my 'newbies' has his first trial tomorrow--hours spent prepping him to do it. Life is so very full. I crave time off. Time to assess; time to review. It's like sliding down the water chute in the Goonies movie, everything rushing by, so much to be handled, so much to be done. The German contingent (in-laws)are still housebound here, riddled with cabin fever but locked in by respiratory ailments and the massive rains we've been having. D-1 may be pregnant; D-2 has signed a lease and will be moving out by the end of the month. And I still have a hard-on for the the guy who's the worst thing for me--a love object who doesn't love back. And tomorrow--thursday--is another day!
Saturday, July 6, 2013
As the sunlight cascades down, turning unprotected skin a painful shade of "cooked lobster", events occur elsewhere. The torrential rains in Atlanta Thursday the 4th collapsed the ceiling for my top floor department, and by yesterday afternoon they threw in the towel and evacuated by a little after noon. I'll check on my office tomorrow on the way back, my boss having matters as much in control as they can be. Tybee Island. Im told it's a drinking town with a fishing problem. I stay in a condo over by the lighthouse, vegging out. Clearly, a badly needed vegging out. The seafood is good, and lots of good places to get it: I'm getting what I needed: a chance to get away and sort out how I'm leading my life, and how I'm going to be leading it here on out. Oh--and I'm getting sun for some much needed photosynthesis. Have you ever noticed how much better you feel once you get your chlorophyl moving?