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{aka the eve of travis’ birth}

Happy day to all. This is a day to celebrate those who have died… not to mourn them. Enjoy the day and do something that reminds you of someone you’ve lost. It’ll be good for you. I’m thinking about JoBeth’s sweaters today. They still make me smile.

I’m moving again soon. This time, it will increase my online time rather than decrease it. I’m not sure when it is supposed to happen, but this month. I’ll send a round of cards to let everyone know where they can find me. I know that stalking me is hard when I move this much, but I promise to keep you in the loop.

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I feel like a little kid who threw a fit last night. Honestly, that wasn’t my intention. I was frustrated, angry, and sad. I couldn’t shake it and felt like I was about to cry in the living room. That would have been embarrassing since Jeff was over and he and David (well… and I) were watching a movie. I got up and went down stairs and didn’t return. I don’t really know what happened either. Or I do. I ended up turning up some music too loud so the world would melt away. When I had calmed myself sufficiently, I went to bed. I didn’t hear from David, but I can see how it would look for him. I doubt he noticed all that much actually. Being alone is suddenly hard, despite my 28 years of experience. Having other people flaunt their happiness in front of me is frustrating.

This morning I feel fine. No lingering resentment. I think I must have just been too tired to deal with things. And I felt like I was intruding on their evening, even though I had been invited to be there with them to watch the movie.

I don’t really know what all of this means… if anything at all.

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Two days ago — on the eve of my mom’s birthday — I had a very long conversation with her. I was only recently able to have my phone turned back on and wanted to call and talk since it had been so long. It was a weird conversation, but one that reminded me of just how like my parents I am. The things I say, the way I phrase things, those quirks that tend to throw other people off go unnoticed to them. They get me because I am a product of them. I need to be reminded of that from time to time.

We discussed relationships and how my parents’ is one I use as a model for how people should interact with each other. They have an effortless marriage, carrying on their own lives, having their own friends, but wanting to share those lives with one another at the end of the day. They are inspirational.

Somehow, the conversation turned to me. Mom has never verbalized her acceptance of me being gay. I suspected that she had moved on and was less upset about it, but didn’t have anything to base that on. I do now. She choked herself up, assuring me that she understands me and accepts me. She gave a few examples of how this had caused her some pain — not because she didn’t accept it, but because she does and realizes how others view gay people, specifically in her church group.

I certainly wouldn’t have wished for my mom to know that part of it, but I am comforted that she is more aware of what life can be like for me. She said she loves my life because it is real… and that is true. I can be very real sometimes. I’ve grown so numb to the snickers and looks of disgust that I hardly notice them anymore. Honestly, they aren’t even that common, but it doesn’t phase me when those things do happen.

Finally, she let me know that I can share that part of my life with her. I think I really needed permission for that. Not that I have a love life to share, but now that I know that I can tell my family and they will be supportive rather than dismissive, I think my search might get easier. I guess I have been scared of dating, but I haven’t really been willing to admit it. Now what? 28 is a tough year to get out there. It is hard to find someone when I am so clueless about how to talk to guys or how to date… or any of it. I need help!

Something is in the air this year. My life is morphing and I really like where it is going. I really hope that good things result. I know my financial life will catch up eventually, so I have decided to stop worrying so much about it. Life seems pretty good right now.

Image: Franz Marc, “Füchse” (ca.1913)

Featured Image Art: photo of Brian

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I was about to go to bed when I decided to check my e-mail. To my surprise, I had a comment on my site (this one). Those comments are fairly rare. I was delighted to see that the comment was from a familiar name too: Jerry. My mind started racing about the possibilities of this being the Jerry I knew from so long ago. I hoped, but doubted that it would be as I opened up the message. The tone was telling.

I was instantly glued to my computer, thoughts of doing other things long forgotten as I pieced together the events (in my head) that might lead the fairly aloof Jerry to actually seek me out after over a year of no contact at all. Mind you, this is not that unusual for him, but what struck me was how different this was. It had moved beyond the casual keeping tabs and into a more obvious longing to reconnect — really reconnect. Of course, I had time to get through only a sentence or two before I received an IM.

It was Jerry. Stunned, I barely knew how to exist in the moment and we shared with each other the contents of our hearts. It was one of the easiest and more genuine conversations I have had in recent years. In the span of only a few minutes, years of bitterness were replaced by the happiest memories from my adult life.

Those days, nearly ten years ago, were magical. They were full of life and possibility and of Jerry. It was a time when I was discovering what it was to be myself. It was a time when the financial concerns always took a backseat to the emotional concerns. It was the beginning. I miss it.

Life has marched forward, despite everyone’s best efforts to keep it from doing so. The paths of friends, including Jerry’s, have not been the same as mine and keeping up had been fairly passive of both of us. Being aware of a new address hardly holds to the magic of such youthful times.

I feel like a piece of me has been put back in place. Like a portion of my soul that had been missing was at last found and given back to me. I feel more whole than I have in a while. I can’t wait to see what levels of self-discovery come from this.

Featured Image Art: photo of Jerry

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Last Thursday, David Eugene turned 37. He might threaten bodily harm for revealing that, but it is not a secret. I think that is a really nice age to be. I hope I agree with that statement when I turn 37, but it seems a nice age to me at the moment. I’ve felt rather uncomfortable in my 20’s. I think I have really been waiting to age — like some sort of fruit that needs to ripen to be appreciated. My skin just has felt wrong. Don’t get me wrong now; basically, I have been content with my life, even finding moments of great pleasure in these past 8 years. It just doesn’t feel right yet. I’m sorry that David feels older than he’d like to be. For his birthday, we worked a very long day and then went to Gallo’s for a little merriment. Pictured are Sherri, me, David, & one of the Donnas. Donna’s daughter and a friend were also there. I love small crowds of interesting people. If we didn’t have to get up so early the next morning, that night could have gone on for hours.

Man, I have been so sick lately. I woke up Sunday feeling horrible. It has slowly gotten better, but I have had a sore throat, fever, headache, and I have been exhausted. I barely moved from bed for 2 days (and by bed I mean couch).

untitled (‘evil’)

Perhaps we expect too much of the dead
assuming their now saintly statuses —
dooming former loved ones to watch us

The cats are restless
stirring as they do when I need
to be lost in thought
They are minions sent to keep
me from discovering my true self
sent to distract me from revealing
the mysteries in my soul

They will fail

Is all of existence a vessel of evil?
Maybe it is just me, here, now
that needs to know that evil exists
Only this can prove the presence of good
and that life is meaningful

I want to know everything

I’m worried about my dead friends
and somehow upset that others have left me
rather than just dying
At least death cannot be my fault
It is easier than accepting
that I am not always enough

8.17.2006 / 10.10.2007

Featured Image Art: photo of Sherri, Brian, David, & Donna

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I am fairly okay with having very little. I’ve never equated money with happiness… most of the time anyway. But money not equaling happiness has not kept a lack of money from equaling unhappiness. It’s true. I have recently found myself very poor indeed — learning the same lessons I learned five years ago. The difference is that I didn’t need to learn them again. I already knew that the systems in place keep the poor from overcoming their poverty. I am fully aware that the more money you have, the easier it is to get money. This is the American economic system at work. What I didn’t bank on was my own personal will driving me into a state that is increasingly difficult to rise above.

I moved to Alaska with fairly small dreams actually. I didn’t want to do anything grand — I just wanted to be here in this place. It really does make me happy. But not having big dreams, I have had to rely on the small pay of the retail world to get by. That can be difficult, but I had family to give me a roof over my head when I needed it. That situation ended and I am staying with a friend, but have to figure out how to live again soon. I had quit my full time job and was relying on part time to get me by. This week, I start my full time position at Michaels. I need it. Since David was promoted, I am being required to move by Christmas or risk losing my new position and being sent to the old store… and I know David wants his space. It was very generous of him to take me in.

But how can I do that reasonably? I have tossed around the idea/plan of getting a place with Heather & Jake. I don’t know if that is a great idea, given what different places in our lives we are all in, but it is a financially responsible way of going about things. The requirements are vastly different though. I like a neighborhood that is alive and colorful, rather than a quiet community of strangers. How can we all be happy together? My other option is to apply for low income housing at one of the apartment complexes in town. It is a relatively private place, but has a lot of character in its own right. I am not too proud to seek that kind of assistance, but then I would feel like I am betraying my good friends who are looking for somewhere new to live.

I am tired all the time. I think the things going on recently have affected me more than I was ready to admit. I need a second job, but don’t want to give up so much of my freedom. I probably will have little choice in the end. I can’t just not look for a job. It is vital that I do so I can have the necessary money to get a new apartment.

The gym. The whole idea is so daunting now. I love my gym time, but haven’t gone is so long because of various circumstances. I want to start over, go frequently, and push myself harder. I felt better and happier when I was going 6 days a week. I am over being fat. I hate going to buy pants and being limited to certain stores because so many don’t make the right size. And even those that have the correct waist are insultingly large in the leg, making me seem much larger than I actually am. And finding the right length is hard too. I have similar issues with shirts. I am just over being in this body because I feel like a different person inside. I’d like to take time to uncover that person.

Featured Image Art: János Hajnal, “VOLPI” (1964)

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Okay, so it wasn’t a cabinet exactly. I had grown to love the duplex and the many oddities that made it special. It had started to feel like home for me. The pops and creaks the place would make as it warmed from the sun had become familiar. The troops of insects and spiders that would find a way in had started to be less of an annoyance than they once were. The sound of the water under the house — like sitting atop the beach with waves moving back and forth — was soothing. I had even grown fond of the huge fireplace, sitting awkwardly in the corner. It took up too much space and was unusable. I had decided to place foam skulls in it for Halloween and string lights in the top so they would be slightly lit up.

I think I can fall for almost anyplace. It just takes time. With the duplex, it took almost a year for me to really appreciate it. I have certainly lived in places that took less time too, but I like to settle. Part of the reason I moved to Alaska was that I was not happy with my own tendency to settle so quickly. But honestly, that is one of my favorite things to do. It shouldn’t scare me so much.

Currently, I am living in a basement. Surrounded by concrete walls and hot water tanks, I know I can’t stay too long and should fall for this unusual place. For various reasons, I must have a new place to stay by Christmas. I don’t want to think about it just now. I am trying to decide if I can live with a roommate. I tend to be more independent than most people like to deal with. But I doubt I can afford this city on my own. We’ll see. And with any luck I will be settled in to my new place by spring.

Image: photo of Molly in David’s house

Featured Image Art: photo of wall in duplex

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This is my last day in the duplex. I intend to be moved out by the end of the day today — both me and the cats. I am quite over this moving experience. It is second only to moving to Alaska for the worst of my life. It has felt rushed and cursed the entire time. Even now, many of my things sit untouched in the soon to be vacant house. It hardly seems like I have enough time to move. In truth, I had planned to continue tomorrow morning, as this is my regularly scheduled weekend off. The manager who writes the schedule, in her infinite pregnant “wisdom” decided that she would schedule me anyway. Don’t worry, I have been making her feel bad about it since I saw the schedule. I should have just told her that I cannot work. This is too important.

The cats have yet to figure out what is in store for them. They will like the new place eventually, but for now they are about to be traumatized… ripped from their home without any warning. I intend to sleep for a long time the next time I get a day off, which apparently isn’t until Thursday. I want it to be right now.

Image: photo of Franz & Molly

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Newsboy

And so to be near
and so to be far
to be a shrill bird
silly in its tree

to be a blooming whale
and infinitely sad
it is no burden
to be free from fear

but the daring
amasses its red strips
and some are nearer
than others

Frank O’Hara

No reason. I just liked this today. Recently updated France, Top 10, & Body pages. Since I am moving, I cannot work on the assigned stories, but they can be assigned for later if you want.

Featured Image Art: photo of Frank O’Hara

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I have found myself homeless… or about to be homeless. I am really apprehensive about it for a number of very real reasons.

I will be living on David’s couch. He is moving into a one bedroom house. It is very small. He has also recently acquired a dog — a husky. She is a sweet thing and took to me right away. My issue is that I have two cats. I don’t want them to be harmed and I fear that Joda could easily kill them. David was rather blasé about it, remarking that they should be fine as long as they stay away from her food and they would have the entire downstairs to themselves. I would be devestated if Joda harmed them.

It is true, the basement is huge and the cats will love it down there, but in their 6 years of life, they have always had me to sleep on or near. They are very social cats and don’t like to hide. I’m not sure how I feel about disrupting them for so long. I need to have my babies around me… they are my family. I appreciate David’s willingness to take us in, but I wish he would take that part into consideration a little bit more than he has. (He got the dog AFTER confirming that I was moving in) I have decided to try and have some sort of set up so I can hang out downstairs a litte, but it will get quite cold down there. It is officially too late to find somewhere else to live and I don’t know anyone who could take them in for a few months.

I will not have anything at David’s and I won’t have space to myself. I am the type of person that needs to be alone sometimes. I won’t have that. I need to have some of my things around. I won’t have that. I need to feel comfortable in my home. I won’t have that.

I plan on getting a place no later than December 1. I need the time at David’s to save up for moving into a place of my own. I am just worried. I hope it all goes really well and I really hope the animals can be socialized to live with one another.

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there is a lot of drama and a lot of packing going on right now. i am super busy. i only have until the end of the month to get my stuff packed and moved… have i mentioned that i hate packing? not only am i moving, but i will essentially be homeless, living on David’s sofa for a few months. i am looking forward to it! 🙂

i found my journal from my trip to france 11 years ago. i am considering putting it on here.. or at least parts of it. i was such a dork back then.

Featured Image Art: photo of Molly

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When I think about my friends, I tend to define them in the way episodes of the show Friends were titled. There is the one who reads too much, the one who works too much, the one who is handy, the one who is always kidding, the one I kissed, the one who moved, the one who ran, the one who made me come out when it wasn’t time, the one who writes, & the one who is always growing up. There are others and they are always defined in this way to me. Then there is me. For whatever reason, I am always the one who cannot have a bad day. I don’t like that about myself most of the time, but I am usually able to just accept it and move on.

Regardless of what my emotional state is, I am never as bad off as my friends. Currently, I am feeling rather lonely and sad — I would love for my 2 closest friends to be around, even if only here and there. However, both of them are having issues of their own. Both of them have more reason to be emotionally distant than I do to be emotionally needy. But this is the pattern of my life. If I am down, someone else is more down. If I feel lost, someone else needs my help finding their way.

I’ll get through it. I’ll be fine in the end. But I won’t have managed with much help from my friends. I know they care… they really do, but they can’t always be there. I hope that this is how I grow. It feels sad to grow without those around to comfort me when I am gloomy. Maybe it is. But I don’t really get a choice most of the time.

I’m not really fishing for comfort on here either. I know you are all supportive. I just needed to share because I can’t get my way right now. My friends don’t have time for me right now (or they want to be left alone or they have other issues going on). I’m not indicating that I blame them for having lives of their own either. My feelings are not their fault. But I am frustrated and those who read this get to deal with it now.

Thanks for listening to me whine.

Image: AI Image (created using Wonder AI)

Featured Image Art: photo of Ashley, John, & Heather

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28 feels old. And it doesn’t help to realize that I am now living each of the days for the 29th time. It is not upsetting, but just interesting.

For my birthday, we went to The Moose’s Tooth for dinner. Grant, David, Jake, & Heather showed up. It was nice to be around people I care about. Craig & Heather came over to my place after dinner. I would like to spend more time with Craig. He is a lot of fun. It was a very low key day… nice. I wish David had been around a little more, but it was still nice.

Featured Image Art: Pola Dwurnik, “Blue and yellow bouquet of foxes” (2022), altered

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I am currently reading The Mother Tongue by Bill Bryson. I have read it a number of times before… Bill Bryson is such an excellent writer. This time around, the book seems to have rekindled my love of words (I had hardly noticed my interest had waned). It is almost enough to make me continue my education and get a real degree. Almost.

I think returning to school frightens me a little. Not the actual school part… that seems now that it would be easy, but I will have to figure out what I would want to do afterwards. I want to write, but question my talent lately. It all seems very difficult sometimes. Don’t get me wrong, I am not upset about any of this. I am just being realistic about it. I am on the verge of 28 and have done nothing professionally with my writing. That can be considered quite old to get started.

I think it is good for me to question myself and ponder these things. It will make be a better person in the end, regardless of were it takes me. Writing, as one of the few passions I have, should be where I turn to when I need to release part of my soul. Too often, however, it seems that it just isn’t enough to get me to do anything about my life. We’ll see.

Image: photo by Thom Milkovic (via Unsplash)

Featured Image Art: photo by Debby Hudson (via Unsplash)

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If anyone has a clue as to how I should do my circuit training at the gym, let me know. I am currently doing 2 sets of 12 reps on every machine (broken up by a 10 minute aerobic workout between)… to get used to working out and using the muscles. I’m not sure if reps are more important or if I should spend a certain amount of time on each machine. It is all so foreign to me.