As the world slowly starts to putter out and come to an end here in Trumpsville, I am trying to cast a blind eye to the external world and turn in on myself over here. And by that, I mean I am bringing back Cocktail-free February™ next month. I had attempted to relive C-fF last year, but when that first Friday night came 'round, a roaring, angry feeling erupted demanding to know why I couldn't enjoy for myself a sip or three.
Guess that's when you know you got it bad.
But I'm much more motivated this time, I'd say. Part of me had hoped this would be a nice thing to forego as a sort of quasi-Lent in respect of my newfound and beguiling Christianity. But that wouldn't be the honest reason why I was giving up the sauce for the month. No, the truth is that I'm not getting the same, lovely alcohol high I used to get, and it's probably because I built up my tolerance tenfold over the Winter Break by drinking nearly every day. So it just hasn't been as fun to toss a few back.
Let's also not forget the unfortunate consequence of weight gain, particularly in the face, which just hurts my heart. And the fact that my heart is literally hurting because spirits really do a number on quite a few of one's major organs.
What's cute is that I've been listing several movies I want to see so as to occupy my time for the next four weekends, one of which is the new "Star Wars" movie. I also downloaded the new Resident Evil game, so that should prove fun. I would absolutely love it if I could get to reorganizing my room and closest, but baby steps over here.
I'll hope against hope that everything I'd wished for in the original C-fF may still occur-stabilization of sleep patterns, weight loss, energy gain, glowing of skin--but won't hold my breath. It will be like a vacation from myself, and I'm kind of looking forward to it.
Saturday, January 28, 2017
Saturday, January 14, 2017
Ponder with me now
Yesterday, we were at our Oakland office working on this ongoing large scale initiative. I like going there--even though it's Oakland--for both the change in scenery and the plethora of different places to eat, a nice change from the three at my home location. It was our whole team, including our boss, and the consultant, who had actually been one of our managers in the early 2000s. It was productive and fun, and there were many times when we burst out laughing at things. In one of those moments, I just stopped and reflected at how fortunate I am, as I'm wont to do... I have a great job working alongside good people and that pays well. I have a rent-controlled apartment in the city I've always wanted to live in. I don't have any dreadful ailments that make life a little tougher. Sure, I'd like not to be in quite so much debt, but I've got it pretty good.
I like it when I have these flashes of realization. I've heard that if you've received your reward on Earth, you don't get it in Heaven, though I daresay I've gone through the fire on this big blue marble (see: adolescence and young adulthood and the period of child abuse and homophobic attacks). If that's the case, so be it. But I'll never not be grateful for what I have.
I like it when I have these flashes of realization. I've heard that if you've received your reward on Earth, you don't get it in Heaven, though I daresay I've gone through the fire on this big blue marble (see: adolescence and young adulthood and the period of child abuse and homophobic attacks). If that's the case, so be it. But I'll never not be grateful for what I have.
Saturday, January 7, 2017
Re-entry blues
The wreath is still up on my door, the stockings still hung with care (when Shazaam doesn't swat them down), and the last vestiges of the Poinsettia in the kitchen still hold on strong, but this week's return to work remarked the definitive end of my winter break. I hate to admit it, but it felt good to get back into my routine, though certainly not easy. You can bet your sweet ass it was an Uber ride to- and from work all three days I was back. But it was all novel again, trekking to the BevMo for provisions and to the gym after work.
I am now at the point in my life where I don't just reflect on how things are now compared to just five years ago, or even ten years ago, but now a full twenty years ago. Nineteen ninety seven would have been my second quarter of my sophomore year in college. If I'm not mistaken, the 1996 summer was the only one in which I returned home during my college tenure. I got a job at Target to pull together a little money, only to have it all divested into the purchase of new contact lenses. I also dyed my hair red. And when I returned back to school that fall, it was with my loathsome new roommates, the only two gay people I'd befriended my freshman year, and who I was fated to live with for my sophomore year in off campus housing. Why, we even had a homophobic fourth roommate who I had the misfortune of bunking with, and whose friends from out of town one night busted into the room after having been screaming homophobic epithets at me to let them in one night after partying. He moved out by second quarter, I believe.
It was also the first year I did E at some party. I was not too keen on hanging with the whole group of people at said party, so bid adieu to my hostess, and hightailed it home, not really feeling a thing. Once I got back to my apartment, I started playing music, and I specifically remember the point when it kicked in--when I played the Junior Vasquez deep house mix of "Wannabe" by the Spice Girls. It still gives me flashback chills.
I used to keep journals during this time as well, which would hardly read as a magnum opus today, but in which I kept track of my favorite songs for the month. This would have been about the time of The Cardigans' "Lovefool," Everything But The Girl's "Missing," and one of my all time favorites, Reel 2 Real's "Jazz It Up." Suffice it to say the first two songs would continue to be played for the remaining two years of my college career non-stop on the radio, and the third would be a staple on my mixtapes for many more years to come. I just heard "Lovefool" for the first time in awhile in an Uber home Friday night, as a matter of fact.
I had begun working at the dining commons by this point, and befriended the beautiful Guy, with whom everyone was in love. A beautiful, charming Filipino boy who would kindly accompany me to my gigs at the AM college radio station, he really did have a swarm of hangers-on who were all chicks, and was ostensibly straight, but he seemed to hang out with me quite often. I think he had once made mentioned about how he didn't mind hugging friends of his, which I believe was as close to bi-curious experimentation as he was probably willing to go, but I didn't pick up the cue. I didn't pick up the cue from ANY of the guys who made them at the time, something I regret so tremendously today, English words cannot express. I never got the memo that college was a time guys were willing to experiment, and let more than a few opportunities slip down the drain because I was too busy being, out, gay, and proud instead of being out, gay, and on the prowl, or even just remotely aware.
Before the school year ended, I had made a new group of friends through my connections at the radio station, and would transition to a whole new clique, leaving the pair of assholes I'd been living with that year behind, and hitting the half way point of college career.
What a time.
I am now at the point in my life where I don't just reflect on how things are now compared to just five years ago, or even ten years ago, but now a full twenty years ago. Nineteen ninety seven would have been my second quarter of my sophomore year in college. If I'm not mistaken, the 1996 summer was the only one in which I returned home during my college tenure. I got a job at Target to pull together a little money, only to have it all divested into the purchase of new contact lenses. I also dyed my hair red. And when I returned back to school that fall, it was with my loathsome new roommates, the only two gay people I'd befriended my freshman year, and who I was fated to live with for my sophomore year in off campus housing. Why, we even had a homophobic fourth roommate who I had the misfortune of bunking with, and whose friends from out of town one night busted into the room after having been screaming homophobic epithets at me to let them in one night after partying. He moved out by second quarter, I believe.
It was also the first year I did E at some party. I was not too keen on hanging with the whole group of people at said party, so bid adieu to my hostess, and hightailed it home, not really feeling a thing. Once I got back to my apartment, I started playing music, and I specifically remember the point when it kicked in--when I played the Junior Vasquez deep house mix of "Wannabe" by the Spice Girls. It still gives me flashback chills.
I used to keep journals during this time as well, which would hardly read as a magnum opus today, but in which I kept track of my favorite songs for the month. This would have been about the time of The Cardigans' "Lovefool," Everything But The Girl's "Missing," and one of my all time favorites, Reel 2 Real's "Jazz It Up." Suffice it to say the first two songs would continue to be played for the remaining two years of my college career non-stop on the radio, and the third would be a staple on my mixtapes for many more years to come. I just heard "Lovefool" for the first time in awhile in an Uber home Friday night, as a matter of fact.
I had begun working at the dining commons by this point, and befriended the beautiful Guy, with whom everyone was in love. A beautiful, charming Filipino boy who would kindly accompany me to my gigs at the AM college radio station, he really did have a swarm of hangers-on who were all chicks, and was ostensibly straight, but he seemed to hang out with me quite often. I think he had once made mentioned about how he didn't mind hugging friends of his, which I believe was as close to bi-curious experimentation as he was probably willing to go, but I didn't pick up the cue. I didn't pick up the cue from ANY of the guys who made them at the time, something I regret so tremendously today, English words cannot express. I never got the memo that college was a time guys were willing to experiment, and let more than a few opportunities slip down the drain because I was too busy being, out, gay, and proud instead of being out, gay, and on the prowl, or even just remotely aware.
Before the school year ended, I had made a new group of friends through my connections at the radio station, and would transition to a whole new clique, leaving the pair of assholes I'd been living with that year behind, and hitting the half way point of college career.
What a time.
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