And Just Like That (Again)

 

An entire season gone and no posts.  

Wow.  

That certainly was not the plan, but here we are.  

And to be frank, this isn't a post inasmuch as it is a, "hey, I'm still here" notice.  

So, I'm here.  

Still sketching (though, there too, lapses. Oy) 

Still haven't cut my hair though I do think it is thinning some. Que sera sera.  

Still working the 9 to 5 (remotely--thank goodness!!!) 

Still trying to . . . (oh, so much).  

Until next time (before the end of the season, is the plan) be kind, be present, and 

take extremely gentle care.  

This world.  

Wow.  

Let's See, Where Were We?

In the midst of studying, prospecting, marketing, and growing  a ton of other things have happened and / or passed over my field of vision. The picnic actually happened before the new career opportunity and I've planted my behind in the chair to write about it . . . but haven't been able quite articulate my still quite ambivalent feelings.

I will say this: at least one cousin wore a "a family that prays together stays together" tee shirt. It was quite the pleasant surprise to see my Aunt Ann and my cousin Carolyn. And it was quite disappointing that the in memoriam segment didn't occur. And even though I was ambivalent about that as well, I did bring the photo as requested. The photo I brought (and others beyond) were given to younger brother.

The above aside, I'm struck in a variety of ways by a variety of events and thoughts in the past several days since our last gathering. And they are, in no particular order:

A. Daughter, who weeks ago re-connected with her father (he had a stroke several years ago and after bumping around from one family member to another, from one state to another, landed in a rehabilitation / nursing facility in Greenwood, MS) went to visit him (and the arm of his / her family in Mississippi) this weekend past. The visit was good in one regard, not so much in another. Still processing.

B. Pepsi flavored Cheetos are apparently all the rage in Japan.  To which I say, EWWW

C. I'm battling a cold. I no longer feverish, but still not tip-top. A friend is also battling and wrote quite an eloquent post relative to the subject. I don't have her brand of being held in mom's bosom (so to speak) during childhood sickness, ours was quite the different household and dynamics---but there were some instances of receiving mom's full, un-divided attention. The memories of those instances are sweet.

D. Due to being sick, and the busyness of work related activities I'm a bit behind on the news and so only recently caught wind of the MONTANA COURT  ruling. I'm quite incensed over the entire episode and culture.

E. And speaking of being incensed....Syria...really? REALLY??? I get the sense that nations are channeling Tina.  Further, I get a sense of dread. ::sigh::

F. And speaking of dread---really Auntie Flo?? REALLY!!!!!!??? I am fifty fracking three!!!  I know, I know, many have gone well beyond that number. But, "shit, fuck, piss!!" as another friend often retorts ENOUGH already.  

G. I know I'm not one to speak, but I miss bloggers. I miss the community. I miss my friends. Oh sure, some (most, in fact) hang out on FB but it is simply not the same. No promises or declarations but I'm striving to be more active with this platform. I still have those sketches  to finish, I even bought a new sketch book, so as I say, no promises. But, well, yeah. . .

H. My former boss has continued to call and email. I must continue to ignore him. I cannot afford to be pulled back into his sort of . . . miasma.

I. Did you know later this month marks a year since Cinnamon came into our world?   On the flip side, the 6th will mark the first anniversary of my dad's death  and the twelfth, D-dog's passing.  All quite  heavily on my mind, heart.

J. And while there is much, much more that has gone on and IS going on I'll end here, except to add that the other night I had a dream. I'm struck (again) by remembering even the part I remember for, if you recall, I don't usually remember my dreams and if I do, only snippets filter to the surface. This snippet: I was walking down a street, dressed in my professional business black slacks and black jacket. An older man, he reminded me of an actor whose name and pedigree has alluded me, but think: a cross between Burt Young and Richard Farnsworth started following me eventually asking if I had a couple bucks so he could get something to eat. I then, against ALL my city wits and conventional wisdom, stopped to pull my wallet from my bag, opened it with the plan to peel off a couple of buck . . .    The older man took my wallet. I screamed. He turned and half ran, half limped away. I continued to scream but got myself together enough to chase (I mean he WAS half running and MOSTLY limping ) him intending to . . . not quite tackle him, but certainly, get my shit back.  Except, I couldn't catch him. WTF??  It was like some weird super slo-mo, non action . . . something. I was thrashing about in bead, screaming in my head, running the litany of what was in the wallet, the hassle of replacing stuff and the like. I woke with a monstrous headache and a sense of extreme dread . . . crying because it felt so real then I snapped to. . it was just. a. dream. 

And now, having said that, I can't end it there. I am going to end this episode with: WAY TO GO DIANA!!!

She said:
One: We should never give up.
Two: You're never too old to chase your dream
Three: It looks like a solitary sport, but it is a team.   (Swimming & life--I'm deciding).


See you in a few.

 

Day One: It's About Cake

Well into and about to eke out of the first of the five day fiftieth birthday celebration I'm finding myself thinking, over and over, about cake.

I began day one of five going back to where it all started, mom's and she wasted no time talking about cake. In fact, this entire month many of our conversations led back to cake. She: what kind of cake do you like? Me: I Like ALL cake. She: ::raucous laughter:: ALL? CAKE? Me: Well, sure. I. Like. Cake. Sure, some are more favorite than others, but it there is cake, I'm there.

What is particularly funny (read: weird) about this conversation is that I don't recall any birthday of the previous 49 (ok, I have long forgotten the first . . . oh, 9 or so, but . . . ) that didn't prominently feature chocolate cake. Chocolate is my signature flavor. I wondered about her query and she replied, "I don't know what you like."

Me: Huh???

Mom and I talk every few days (the daily talks falling by the wayside) and see one another once a week (two, at the most) and short of perhaps knowing my preference for types of under-garments, whether it is brunettes, red-heads, or other that revs my motor, or if I prefer peanut butter over jam on my toast, she knows me. Or, should.

However, since coming out to her last Thanksgiving she's made this, "I don't know what you like" statement a few times. She's inquired as to my preferences over types of clothing, jewelry. skin products, beverages, and more. Partly, I see it as a function of aging (hers and mine) as her memory falters and tastes do change sometimes over time. But, partly too, I'm sure she is of the mind that if I could be gay and she not to have known this very fundamental thing about me, then she doesn't know anything.

I get that. But, gay or straight, I. Like. Cake.

Yesterday I got the surprise of all surprises when my newest recruit gifted me with the cake of all cakes, tirimasu (among other things, which will be addressed in another post). She and I were talking and as anyone who has had more than a 15-minute conversation with me may have discovered, talk came 'round to my mother.

I mentioned the cake conversations and that led to the admission that tirimasu was a favorite and dang it if newest recruit didn't bring one for me. And yes, of course I shared with the guys.

Her bringing me cake (and stuff?) WoWsome, that.

During my visit with mom today she handed me a receipt for the cake she'd ordered. I'm to pick it up tomorrow afternoon. It is a chocolate cake with yellow flowers, according to the receipt.

So, it appears day two of the five day fiftieth birthday celebration will have cake in the mix. Good thing I. Like. Cake.

What's Your Sign?

I forgot my book this morning (that really irritates me) meaning that I didn't have anything to read on the train, so I picked up a RedEye, a local freebie rag. The paper is thin, this morning's edition only 36 pages. It is full of thumbnail sketches of local, national, and international news, entertainment tid-bits, morsels of restaurant, music, and movie reviews, a smattering of sports related spots, puzzles, and horoscopes.

Even if I were to read the paper end-to-end it'd take, well, the ride in to work. Most of the "news" stories are re-hashes of stories I've seen / read elsewhere, so I skip those. Now and again I catch sight of something I didn't know and I'll read that. Usually, I just work the puzzles and every once in a blue moon, I'll check out the horoscope.

This was a blue moon day.

My horoscope read: A lunar eclipse in increasing your libido. Your partner won't know what got into you. You'll demand sexual attention morning, noon, and night. Just realize that your honey might think you're falling in love with (him) or her, so play nice.

Note to self: Don't forget book, again.

And, speaking of partner, mom is still (continuously) in question mode. Peep a recent installment:

Mom: Sooo (she begins most conversations, all inquisitions with soooo) when are you going to Texas again?

Me: I don't know, when I'm invited again? I don' know when that could be, they travel a lot.

Mom: Sooo, yeah? yeah? What do they do?

Me: (I tell her what they do)

Mom: Sooo, is this like the Net(ta) situation? (she has always mis-pronounced her name. For those who are not aware, mom new of Neta, she just didn't know Neta was my girlfriend until a month ago. Or maybe she knew but we didn't discuss it).

Me: No. N(ee)ta was my girlfriend. The Texas women are my friends.

Mom: Sooo, do you have another girlfriend?

Me: No, not yet.

Mom: Sooo, are you working on that?

Me: Well, kinda. But more, I'm working on me. The girlfriend thing will take care of itself in due time.

Mom: :::laughter::: Sooo, okay.

End scene.

Odd Number Year

Now two full days in and I’ve managed to keep my food and drink intake within a manageable and reasonable level. I’ve had some giggles and a serious conversation with the daughter, an interesting and enlightening conversation with the son, a distressing conversation with the mom and a fun, challenging, serious, enticing, and invigorating conversation with the girlfriend.

In short, the first two days of the New Year represent business as usual, mostly.

I haven’t gotten the amount of exercise I’d hope to get but I think Saturday and Sunday will be my ‘get physical’ days.

Mom pointed out during our New Year Day conversation that I’ll celebrate birthday number forty-nine, she, sixty-nine one of her sisters, seventy-nine and the eldest sister, eighty-nine this year. (There are two brothers and another sister between my nearly 69 year old mother and her nearly 89 year old sister).

My mother doesn’t want to live to see 89. She told me so. She tells me so nearly every day. She reminds me how tired, frustrated, and overwhelmed she feels. None of her various conditions are, in and of themselves, life threatening, but they are debilitating and the constant pain is, well, a pain.
The meds tend to addle her already over taxed brain.

The details of day-to-day living are turning molehills into Mt. Olympus.

I, the only daughter, am in the process of helping her pare down even further her meager possessions, scout assisted living locales and file applications with the alphabet soup of government and social services agencies. Though tired, frustrated and overwhelmed she hasn’t quite reconciled her emotions to the eventual relinquishing of control over some aspects of her life.

Hopefully, the right locale, situation and set of circumstances will materialize sooner rather than later and she can move on to the next phase. Further, hopefully, she can begin to finally un-clench, relax and come to appreciate the good above lamenting the bad.

So, in short, 2009 so far, business as usual.

Today

You may have heard the big news out of Illinois today. Suffice to say today's events will reverberate for weeks, months perhaps years to come. In other news, a major snowstorm hit the Midwest today. Chicago won't see much when it's all said and done, perhaps 4 inches in the upper reaches of the northern 'burbs. Parts of Michigan was hit pretty hard. I heard over 14 inches on one newscast.

Bigger than alleged cheatin' politicos and raging snowstorms is the news that my cats, technically my cat Pete and D's cat Buttah are mad for each other. Actually, this isn't news. We've known this from day one. They like to pretend a disdain for one another (especially when they are caught in the act of lovin') but the proof is in the puddin' or rather, the pictures.

On This Day

Left Knee: Whoa! What the heck is she doing?
Right Knee: Calm down, it’s April and the sun is shining (for a change).
Left Knee: Are you crazy? She just can’t get on a bike, start pedaling and expect me (us) to fall in line.
Right Knee: 1.Speak for yourself 2. Get a grip 3. We’re not going that far 4. Stop whining, I have to do more work when you whine.
Left Knee: Bite me. All I’m saying is she could give some warning. She can’t go from walking to riding and expect no reaction.
Right Knee: You’re a baby.
Left Knee: You’re a suck-up.

The other big happening on this day was the early morning earthquake. Seriously? Earthquake?

Whoa.

Actually, it wasn’t much, but certainly noticeable. No, it didn't wake me, I was somewhere between that awake / asleep mode where you think you're dreaming and then realize, nope, not a dream.

spillage

Some days ago, I quit my job, she hers. I sold the condo, she sold her home as well. With the proceeds we bought and RV, set out on the open road, enjoying the scenery and the company. We decided to settle on the California coast because she is, as you know, partial to water and we both wanted warm weather. We’ve decided to rent a store front and open a surf and skate board shop. (Did you know she surfed at one time? ooh whee!) D came along because she was again, between jobs and hey! Free trip to California! She’s trying to convince us to get her a video camera so she can make a tape to send in to Road Rules or one of the other reality type shows so she can be a STAR, out shining her brother. The cats (BoBo and LuLu) and the pup (Scamp) that we picked up from a shelter in Oklahoma are getting along famously.

Noooooooooooooooo… none of that is true, you’ll have to forgive me I’ve been suffering mad crazy hay fever type symptoms, itchy and then watery eyes and aaaaaahhhhhhhcccchhhhoooo!
Excuse me, periodic attacks of the sneezes. I’ve been sluggish, tired. My sweety hasn’t been feeling well lately either. Our respective ailments and other issues have cut into our phone snuggle time, which is making me above all else, cranky and perhaps somewhat delirious.

But the news…the real news, is about my actor fellow. M had two auditions last week. The first for a role with Steppenwolf, which, to many, is the Big Kahuna of Chicago theatre. He hasn’t heard yet, but got an email to say he was still in the running. Hopefully, a decision will be made by early next week. The second audition was for a film company. A movie staring Dennis Quaid is going to start production soon. M auditioned for these folks before (for a different role). He was not right for that role (he told me at the time that he thought he was too young and too slight of build). But, they’ve come back. In fact they spent a week trying to find him, his contact information. When he auditioned previously he was with an agency. M is currently representing himself, looking for an agent who is more in concert with his goals.

I asked him how each went, he replied ‘plonk—knocked them out the park!’ He felt encouraged and excited. Even if he isn’t cast this time around, he’s confident that he’s made enough of an impression that will lead to future opportunities.

He is currently in rehearsals for a play that opens late May. He plays a Rastafarian and must…gasp…sing. He hasn't had to sing in a show really, since his freshman year in college. He’s pretty over the moon about the role and the chance to work with one of his former professors, who is directing the production.

And…on Monday he looked at an apartment. Serendipity had him run into an acquaintance he hadn’t seen in several months. He mentioned looking for a place in the city, the guy said, "hey, I’m moving to New York at the beginning of May, you should look at my place.” And so he did. If the building manager approves, my young actor fellow will be in his own apartment by this time next month. Gasp!

All this good, positive news and energy flow is tempered by my wonky health, my daughter’s continuing boyfriend and workplace issues, worry over my girlfriend and missing the sound of her usually bubbly voice.

However, in two short weeks, I’ll be on a plane heading towards her. I’ll be able to wrap my arms around her, kiss her gently upon her soft, supple lips and hold her hand as we head for the car. An order of fried pickles, an ice cold beer and serious snuggling and more lie ahead.

I’ll keep you in the loop, re: the actor fellow. If you can’t tell, my buttons, they are a’bustin’.

Don't Fret

Over a week ago, the email was drafted, refined, proofed and proofed again. Nervous about the implications and the results, I fussed and debated.

I began in a familiar fashion, "Hey Lady D", and with common grounds, our respective daughters and then sons. The topic of work, always safe but fertile territory provided the buffer for what was to come next.

On another front, I have something to tell you about me. For the past several years, most of my life really, but more profoundly in the past several years, I’ve experienced attractions to women. I suppressed it, buried it, dismissed it. I don’t want, can’t do that anymore. Last June I came out to M and D. I have yet to tell my mother, but that day is coming. I just wanted to clear this off, kinda like a 12-step, -hehehe- I’d hope we might have had a chance to get together for lunch or something, but our respective lives are working against us on the front.

I paste Synopsis and finish by saying how I’m hoping to find a woman with whom to share the rest of my life. I wish her family well.

Satisfied, I click send. And then I wait.

I wait for a return email, a phone call, a card or letter. I wait for acknowledgment. I wait for acceptance. I wait, not knowing, how she’ll react, how she will reply or even if she will. I wait for silence. I have experience with waiting for silence.

Six days. Six days later her address is one of the Incoming messages in my box. With some trepidation and nervousness, I open the mail. Following my pattern, she begins in a familiar fashion, "Hey Gurl" and onward with daughter, son and then work. She uses her upcoming adventure to Spain as the buffer. And then the verdict. I read the entire next section twice. I flash and hold onto snippets, thank you for sharing, glad you did, only want happiness for you.

"Discovery will give you peace of mind when acceptance is embraced. Much Love, D"

And with that my oldest friend is in, on board. She shares in my full discovery, full disclosure. Fullness of life.

My Girl

We’ve know one another a long time, DB and me. We met in high school, home room, day one. Over the course of the next four years we laughed, cried and danced together. DB was older by a year, yet we were in the same class. That first year we had nearly every class together. Many the second. By the third year we’d begun to separate. She went the way of Business Sciences, I went to Art. Still, we hung out as much as possible.

She was not an only daughter like me, but she was the ‘go-to’ daughter whenever her family had a crisis, which, like mine, was often. DB liked to forget her troubles by going drinking and dancing. She liked to take me with her. I couldn’t go much, because I couldn’t get out of the house as often. Besides, I was very shy and didn’t like being around a lot of people. DB helped me with my shyness, she was extremely gregarious and fun-loving. Unlike my friend Vee, who was more like a big sister (before becoming un-requited love interest), DB was a pal, one of the first, one of the best. She took me to my first bar. I was 16. We met a couple of Kenyans who, we found out later, wanted to get married. We chatted, drank a couple of rum and cokes, went to the ladies room and didn’t return. DB liked one of the Kenyans. He was cute, she kept saying later.

DB lived on what I thought was the edge back then. She was a regular at a few bars, she dated older men, at least one of whom was married. I was visiting DB one Saturday. We’d spent most of the afternoon playing tennis and cards. She decided she wanted to go visit her boyfriend, who’d been ill. We took a bus to his house. Rang the bell, was invited into a living room, where we saw two women of different generations and three children. DB announced the purpose of her visit and was led down a hall to I presume a bedroom. She returned in pretty short order. We left. DB quick stepped to the corner, where she stopped and screamed, "shit!" As it happens, the younger of the women, was the boyfriend’s wife.

After high school, DB and I went our separate ways. We did stay in touch via cards and letters, through some college, marriages, children and divorces. We are still in touch, mostly via email, even though she lives and works in Chicago, we don’t see each other often. When we do get together, it’s like 1976 all over again. We laugh about the past times we had and the times we have with our respective children and families.

For all intents and purposes, DB is my best friend. She certainly is my oldest friend. Yet, I haven’t been able to tell her about this past year. The full some of my past years. I haven’t been able to say to my girl friend that I am attracted to women and that I am pro-actively seeking to date persons of the female persuasion, towards the hopes of finding a steady girlfriend, partner.

I’ve wanted to tell her, have tried to tell. Since a recent promotion, she’s been extremely busy and hasn’t been as responsive to my emails and invites to lunch. So, my news is tabled, for now. Recently, the news has begun to burn a whole in my throat and I am resisting the urge to hire a sky-writer to pen the message among the clouds.

I really should tell my mother before I do that, though, I’m thinking.

Do Something

The Internet is for sale. Do you want to buy it? More importantly, do you want to pay more for the privilege of navigating? Would you like big business and / or government regulators telling you where you can and cannot go? How would like to have your traffic slowed by the fact that the site you wish to visit wasn’t wealthy enough to be in a top, high speed tier?


Those who wish to do away with Net Neutrality are proposing just that kind of Internet.

In this new Internet, blogs like this, like yours might not even exist. The freewheeling Internet, as we know it may, in fact, become history.


Do you like the idea of pay-per-visit Internet?

No?


Join the fight to preserve Net Neutrality.

In addition to the potential death of the Internet, the media reform group, freepress, outlines and advocates change for the media at large. A media, supposedly owned, by the public, but controlled by conglomerates and big business is in need of an overhaul. The charge is for us, the American public, who has and continues to pay trillions, to fight and demand a better the return on our investment.


Go. Read. Act.