I entered into the holy Easter weekend with the best of intentions: traveled up to Noe Valley for a scenic power walk, went to church, vacuumed the apartment, and meal prepped for the week. Then Colette came over Sunday and muffed everything up. Luckily, I'm recovered--remarkably well so, in fact. Those Perricone super greens powder drinks and multi-vitamins really are amazing. But it's not exaaaactly how I'd intended to spend my first actual Easter as a practicing Christian.
If there was something good that could have come out of this, it was that I had to call in sick Tuesday, and I used that whole day to sleep. And sleep. And sleep. It must be a combination of heavy cardio at the gym and age, but I must truly have been underslept because I really felt so much more rested and refreshed when I went back to work.
A week or so ago, my old boss texted me to say she and her partner are getting married. Hooray! It means a trip up to Alaska for the wedding. I'd been desperately trying to travel somewhere for some sort of vaycay that wasn't just Christmas, so I guess this'll be it. It's in August. I'm still keeping Santorini in my back pocket and planning for Reno at some point, but I do need to keep finances sane in prep for the trip to England next year.
I also got a FB message from half-sister Laura informing me she was pregnant. She had also told me this several years back, but nothing ever seemed to have came of it. I assume she may have lost it. I'm always a bit worried about her. Her husband has been abusive, and she has the look of someone who if functionally anorexic. She had always told me that if she ever did have a child, she would ask me to be the godfather. It's quite a commitment, but I'd be up to it since I do love her, and the rest of her family seems to have abandoned her. It would also entail a trip to visit her and the new baby sooner as opposed to later.
Tuesday, April 10, 2018
Monday, March 5, 2018
Morose Mondays, March 5 Edition
I'm titling these little blogs I make on Mondays thusly because they're the first day back from work after what is usually a delightfully inebriated whirl of a weekend, and by the time night falls, my mindset has gone from one of crickety malaise to maudlin melancholy.
Do you realize we are nearly through the 2010s? There was a lifetime packed into my '90s. All of high school and college, every year of which--every semester of which--felt like a novel in a series. And my 2000s were packed with plenty of intrigue as well.
I was almost going to add, "At least until about 2008," which was when I got my first big promotion, and started (sort of) living on Easy Street, but even then, I had my little dalliance with Gideon in 2009, now nearly ten years ago.
Yes, I've changed, but in that almost imperceptible way that only I might notice, or someone who hadn't seem me in over a decade might notice. Certainly the Christian thing is new, and still surprising to some people when I happen to mention going to church. It still surprises me at times.
It's just amazing to think that another decade will have passed by after the end of next year. And I'm not entirely sure how to characterize my 2010s.
A lady in my church group mentioned a quote that was something to the effect of, "Life is lived forward, but understood backwards." That for sure as shiz is true. Morose Mondays, March 5 Edition
Do you realize we are nearly through the 2010s? There was a lifetime packed into my '90s. All of high school and college, every year of which--every semester of which--felt like a novel in a series. And my 2000s were packed with plenty of intrigue as well.
I was almost going to add, "At least until about 2008," which was when I got my first big promotion, and started (sort of) living on Easy Street, but even then, I had my little dalliance with Gideon in 2009, now nearly ten years ago.
Yes, I've changed, but in that almost imperceptible way that only I might notice, or someone who hadn't seem me in over a decade might notice. Certainly the Christian thing is new, and still surprising to some people when I happen to mention going to church. It still surprises me at times.
It's just amazing to think that another decade will have passed by after the end of next year. And I'm not entirely sure how to characterize my 2010s.
A lady in my church group mentioned a quote that was something to the effect of, "Life is lived forward, but understood backwards." That for sure as shiz is true. Morose Mondays, March 5 Edition
Tuesday, February 20, 2018
If you wanna boogie
David Harness was spinning at the End Up Sunday night for a new party called Boogie, and my black ass actually got out of the house and went. I don't know if I actually caught him spinning, but it was the funky house of the sort I like, and what appeared to be a mostly straight, househead type crowd, which I can get down with. One of the bartenders was a former longtime barback I recognized. Absent was the bald lesbian who I always tipped well and who always tended to me. I didn't stay very long, but long enough to have some fun.
And as always seems to be the case when I go out clubbing, my chubbiness appeared to dissipate slightly the next day due to the aerobic activity. Nice.
I've been trying to get Leah to take a trip to NYC with me, and she was going to bring along one of her friends. That was over a week ago, and I've not heard back. I'm just desperate for a vaycay, and my tax refund will cover most of it
I had to skip my church group this evening because today was my Monday after a lovely four-day weekend. Much as I'd hoped to get out of the house, I only got as far as taking a shower on Monday, and then coating myself in my PJs to play video games. Speaking of, I'd intended to give up video games for lent, but the bloomin' thing came up on me before I knew it. Much like I'd intended to try for Cocktail-free February again this year, and that was bust. But I have been participating in the forty days of prayer my church is promoting, with a new prayer texted to us every morning. A nice way to start the day.
Tally ho!
And as always seems to be the case when I go out clubbing, my chubbiness appeared to dissipate slightly the next day due to the aerobic activity. Nice.
I've been trying to get Leah to take a trip to NYC with me, and she was going to bring along one of her friends. That was over a week ago, and I've not heard back. I'm just desperate for a vaycay, and my tax refund will cover most of it
I had to skip my church group this evening because today was my Monday after a lovely four-day weekend. Much as I'd hoped to get out of the house, I only got as far as taking a shower on Monday, and then coating myself in my PJs to play video games. Speaking of, I'd intended to give up video games for lent, but the bloomin' thing came up on me before I knew it. Much like I'd intended to try for Cocktail-free February again this year, and that was bust. But I have been participating in the forty days of prayer my church is promoting, with a new prayer texted to us every morning. A nice way to start the day.
Tally ho!
Wednesday, February 14, 2018
Bougierella Enterprises, LLC
I just finished "It" after what I think was easily over six months ago when I started it in preparation for the release of the movie. The mini-series in '90 scared the tar out of me as a twelve-year-old, and was like nothing I'd ever seen. I remember my friend Chuck reading it at school, and saw the title of one of the chapters, "The Ritual of Chüd," and remember thinking the book must've been even way crazier than the TV series. But it certainly remained plastered to my mind all these years.
I actually bought the book at a secondhand store probably some ten years ago, but had been too intimidated by its size and kind of scared at its content to tackle it. I'd loved Stephen King novels as a kid, so intricate and full of great storytelling, as well as being impactfully frightening. As I dove into it, already knowing the basic premise, it didn't have nearly the same impact as the mini-series, unsurprisingly so. Nineteen fifty movie monsters aren't as apt to terrify a child of the nineties. Like one of the primary story arcs, the bridge between childhood and adulthood had been crossed, and so reading "It" the novel was more like looking back at a gauzy, distant past, recollecting the actors who played the Losers Club in the TV series playing out the actual events in the source material. Still a good, interesting read. I know this because after I was done, I felt like I needed a good hug.
I joined the Crazy Love group at church, a group focused on God's amazing love. Sounds all butterflies and hearts, but when I went the first time, I left with an icky feeling. As an icebreaker, one of the co-leads broke out one of those novelty book of questions, and when it came one person's turn, asked if she would marry someone more attractive then she. After her answer, the co-lead said, "I wanna hear from the guys!" and so the one guy answered, and then I did, saying, "Heck, yeah!" Her laughing response was, "A trophy wife, huh?"
And I didn't correct her and say, "No, a trophy husband."
It's just weird to think this newfound faith of mine comes with a possibility of being around people who may not accept my sexuality, something I've been cool with for more than half my life. As intrinsic a part of me as the organs in my body and the skin over my bones. It's just there, and I just can't imagine considering it might not be such a good thing.
So after a day or two of rumination, I realized that I had to take a step back. There are Christians who are cool with gays, and Christians who are not. I wish this particular church took an outward position on the matter, but that's sort of why it's like "Christianity for Beginners" in that they just focus more on the good stuff while hinting at the hard stuff--which this same co-lead said would be coming in later chapters of the book we are reading. Gee, I can't wait.
The idea that this was just some sort of experiment crossed my mind. It gave me momentary comfort and allowed me to step outside of the situation, and re-center myself. But it also distanced me from moving in closer to my faith. That seems like the work of something a little more sinister than a little self-doubt.
So while I'm momentarily a little shaken, I'll let the Lord guide me, not necessarily the words of those who seek to follow Him. They're just like me. And besides which, the second group last night went much better, and I left on a good note.
Aaron and Gomez came into town last weekend, and we did "Beach Blanket Babylon" and had a surprisingly sub-par dinner in North Beach afterwards.
Veelishis will be in town in April with her hubby, so I will find somewhere new to dine and drink, and hang.
I've upped my weights by five pounds in an effort to make some advancements at the gym. One of the workout advice video series I watch on YouTube reminded me that the body acclimates quickly. So, we've got to keep pushing. I felt like I had been injected with Novocaine that week, but am sure I will get used to it. The plan is to then keep increasing by five pounds every month or two months.
I cannot seem to lose the holiday weight to save my life, and looking at my Santa-esque profile after so many months of meal-prepping is depressing. But it took a lot of time to slim down, so will likely take a long time again to get back to a more acceptable silhouette. Being forty does not help the matter.
I have a jam-packed day tomorrow with so much to get done, but am looking forward to another lovely four-day weekend. Barring any Novocaine-esque post-workout exhaustion, here's to hoping I get outside and enjoy a little sunshine.
I actually bought the book at a secondhand store probably some ten years ago, but had been too intimidated by its size and kind of scared at its content to tackle it. I'd loved Stephen King novels as a kid, so intricate and full of great storytelling, as well as being impactfully frightening. As I dove into it, already knowing the basic premise, it didn't have nearly the same impact as the mini-series, unsurprisingly so. Nineteen fifty movie monsters aren't as apt to terrify a child of the nineties. Like one of the primary story arcs, the bridge between childhood and adulthood had been crossed, and so reading "It" the novel was more like looking back at a gauzy, distant past, recollecting the actors who played the Losers Club in the TV series playing out the actual events in the source material. Still a good, interesting read. I know this because after I was done, I felt like I needed a good hug.
I joined the Crazy Love group at church, a group focused on God's amazing love. Sounds all butterflies and hearts, but when I went the first time, I left with an icky feeling. As an icebreaker, one of the co-leads broke out one of those novelty book of questions, and when it came one person's turn, asked if she would marry someone more attractive then she. After her answer, the co-lead said, "I wanna hear from the guys!" and so the one guy answered, and then I did, saying, "Heck, yeah!" Her laughing response was, "A trophy wife, huh?"
And I didn't correct her and say, "No, a trophy husband."
It's just weird to think this newfound faith of mine comes with a possibility of being around people who may not accept my sexuality, something I've been cool with for more than half my life. As intrinsic a part of me as the organs in my body and the skin over my bones. It's just there, and I just can't imagine considering it might not be such a good thing.
So after a day or two of rumination, I realized that I had to take a step back. There are Christians who are cool with gays, and Christians who are not. I wish this particular church took an outward position on the matter, but that's sort of why it's like "Christianity for Beginners" in that they just focus more on the good stuff while hinting at the hard stuff--which this same co-lead said would be coming in later chapters of the book we are reading. Gee, I can't wait.
The idea that this was just some sort of experiment crossed my mind. It gave me momentary comfort and allowed me to step outside of the situation, and re-center myself. But it also distanced me from moving in closer to my faith. That seems like the work of something a little more sinister than a little self-doubt.
So while I'm momentarily a little shaken, I'll let the Lord guide me, not necessarily the words of those who seek to follow Him. They're just like me. And besides which, the second group last night went much better, and I left on a good note.
Aaron and Gomez came into town last weekend, and we did "Beach Blanket Babylon" and had a surprisingly sub-par dinner in North Beach afterwards.
Veelishis will be in town in April with her hubby, so I will find somewhere new to dine and drink, and hang.
I've upped my weights by five pounds in an effort to make some advancements at the gym. One of the workout advice video series I watch on YouTube reminded me that the body acclimates quickly. So, we've got to keep pushing. I felt like I had been injected with Novocaine that week, but am sure I will get used to it. The plan is to then keep increasing by five pounds every month or two months.
I cannot seem to lose the holiday weight to save my life, and looking at my Santa-esque profile after so many months of meal-prepping is depressing. But it took a lot of time to slim down, so will likely take a long time again to get back to a more acceptable silhouette. Being forty does not help the matter.
I have a jam-packed day tomorrow with so much to get done, but am looking forward to another lovely four-day weekend. Barring any Novocaine-esque post-workout exhaustion, here's to hoping I get outside and enjoy a little sunshine.
Saturday, January 27, 2018
Attack of the past, flood of the future
Last week, I had dinner with two retirees from my job, and three co-workers. Everyone was in their sixties save for one person who was a few years old than I. Retirement is something I've been thinking about since pretty much day one of entering the professional workforce (and something my company has been really good about framing), and after this year, I'll be just over the halfway point provided all goes as planned.
One of the other things forty has brought into perspective is that I can know recollect times in twenty year chunks. I have my ol' LiveJournal here to take me back to how things were going ten years ago, but alas, I threw out my old journals from my teenage- and college days some years ago.
In 1998, I would've been in my junior year, living with a trio of girls right next to campus, and unfortunately, starting what would be a period of speed dependency that would take me into next year. I had started a relationship with this guy I'd been introduced to who worked at a local movie theatre, and who wasn't particularly attractive, but I had desperately wanted to have sex.
In addition to the speed dependency, I was also in a politically correct phase, and completely missed the come ons by curious straight guys--an egregious oversight of the past if ever there was one. It was a short-lived relationships, three months, I believe, and as the months would progress, my dissatisfaction with Santa Barbara and boredom of life in general would be countered by that delightful powdery substance. Needless to say, it made me persona non grata among my roommates, and by the end of the school year, I would be moving out.
In addition to working at the radio station, I had jobs in the audio visual department, a coffee shop, and the dining commons, the last three of which I eventually got canned from for missing too many shifts. This dropped my income down, but I still managed through courtesy of those lovely school loan checks--which I am still paying off to this day.
The year would get much more interesting as I entered into my senior year in the fall and turned twenty one, but we'll leave that for later on this year.
One of the other things forty has brought into perspective is that I can know recollect times in twenty year chunks. I have my ol' LiveJournal here to take me back to how things were going ten years ago, but alas, I threw out my old journals from my teenage- and college days some years ago.
In 1998, I would've been in my junior year, living with a trio of girls right next to campus, and unfortunately, starting what would be a period of speed dependency that would take me into next year. I had started a relationship with this guy I'd been introduced to who worked at a local movie theatre, and who wasn't particularly attractive, but I had desperately wanted to have sex.
In addition to the speed dependency, I was also in a politically correct phase, and completely missed the come ons by curious straight guys--an egregious oversight of the past if ever there was one. It was a short-lived relationships, three months, I believe, and as the months would progress, my dissatisfaction with Santa Barbara and boredom of life in general would be countered by that delightful powdery substance. Needless to say, it made me persona non grata among my roommates, and by the end of the school year, I would be moving out.
In addition to working at the radio station, I had jobs in the audio visual department, a coffee shop, and the dining commons, the last three of which I eventually got canned from for missing too many shifts. This dropped my income down, but I still managed through courtesy of those lovely school loan checks--which I am still paying off to this day.
The year would get much more interesting as I entered into my senior year in the fall and turned twenty one, but we'll leave that for later on this year.
Thursday, December 28, 2017
Down the coast for Christmas and down the hatches with cocktails
My trip to SD was a solid B rating.
I arrived and headed to the hotel, looking forward to the signature fresh scent they pump into the vents and have as a handsoap, but it seemed to have been replaced by something else. I immediately stocked up on vodka and edibles, then took an Uber to my old haunt of Hillcrest for a trip down memory lane. This was a little on the redundant side, as whenever I get nostalgic, I do exactly the same from the comfort of my computer via Google Maps.
Later that evening, the plan was for my mom to pick me and go out for dinner at a vegan restaurant with her boyfriend and former co-worker, Troy. Troy had made a sour impression on Marie, having talked down to her at times and being generally weird. He once even told her, "I'm sorry about whatever happens next," in relation to our mom, which could either be rather ominous or simply mean that he knew he and my mom were getting closer even as Marie was not thrilled about their relationship.
I'd had a couple of drinks, so was in good spirits, but I noticed the smell of fecal matter when I got into the car. Later on in the vacation, I couldn't tell if this was actually my mom's breath or if in fact Troy had soiled himself. We powered through the dinner nonetheless, even with me tearing up at the news that my nineteen-year old niece is pregnant, and the conversation seemed to flow just fine. Troy told me a few times I was a good person, and when he switched seats with me after mom dropped me off, he gave me a long hug and kiss on the cheek, which rather grossed me out. Needless to say, the outfit I was wearing is being laundered as we speak.
The following day, Marie, her son Abel, mom, and I went to the cemetery to place flowers on the gravestones of our dearly departed, and afterwards to Belmont Park. I had wanted to ride the roller coaster, but the hangover I was experiencing, and its attendant nausea, exacerbated by car sickness, all combined to decide otherwise.
That night, I met up with Veelishis and Raina at Mo's in The Crest, and we had a fabulous time reconnecting and talking smack about our fellow alumni. It was sadly here where I made a major misstep by consuming one of Mo's trademark drinks that tasted like sugar water, and was probably chock full of cheap alcohol. The whole next day, I was reeling. In fact, most every day of the vacation began with a vomit-filled regret at the altar of the porcelain god, something that would probably have been kept in check if Grandma Petunia had been staying with me.
Nevertheless, I powered through, and met up with Aaron to do The Crest proper that night, as we passed by the many places of our past that had changed, finally landing at Flicks, which was flocking with trendy millennials, and had been completely redone from the last time I had been in '99.
It was then Christmas Eve dinner at my in-laws and Christmas Day dinner at Marie's, the latter of which included fun playtime with my destructive, but adorable, little nephew, before I bid everyone adieu, and settled in for the trip home.
I'm a little fluffy around the mid section, and the alcohol consumption has gone right to my face, but am trying to muster up the energy to hit the gym or at least work out at home today, and def must go tomorrow. I got sick on my last day there, and still feel a little under the weather. I had planned to adopt a second cat today, but after reading up on the idea, the notion of failure and creating a hostile home environment for both Shazaam and a new kitty, seems too much to bear. Unsurprisingly, my lovely holiday vacay feels like it's whipped by in a flash, and I'm shocked that I only have five days left of it. I'm supposed to have lunch with Lea on Saturday, and have no plans for anything on New Year's.
Taking deep breaths, and trying not to let these little pangs of anxiety balloon into an emotional overload. Good Lawd...
I arrived and headed to the hotel, looking forward to the signature fresh scent they pump into the vents and have as a handsoap, but it seemed to have been replaced by something else. I immediately stocked up on vodka and edibles, then took an Uber to my old haunt of Hillcrest for a trip down memory lane. This was a little on the redundant side, as whenever I get nostalgic, I do exactly the same from the comfort of my computer via Google Maps.
Later that evening, the plan was for my mom to pick me and go out for dinner at a vegan restaurant with her boyfriend and former co-worker, Troy. Troy had made a sour impression on Marie, having talked down to her at times and being generally weird. He once even told her, "I'm sorry about whatever happens next," in relation to our mom, which could either be rather ominous or simply mean that he knew he and my mom were getting closer even as Marie was not thrilled about their relationship.
I'd had a couple of drinks, so was in good spirits, but I noticed the smell of fecal matter when I got into the car. Later on in the vacation, I couldn't tell if this was actually my mom's breath or if in fact Troy had soiled himself. We powered through the dinner nonetheless, even with me tearing up at the news that my nineteen-year old niece is pregnant, and the conversation seemed to flow just fine. Troy told me a few times I was a good person, and when he switched seats with me after mom dropped me off, he gave me a long hug and kiss on the cheek, which rather grossed me out. Needless to say, the outfit I was wearing is being laundered as we speak.
The following day, Marie, her son Abel, mom, and I went to the cemetery to place flowers on the gravestones of our dearly departed, and afterwards to Belmont Park. I had wanted to ride the roller coaster, but the hangover I was experiencing, and its attendant nausea, exacerbated by car sickness, all combined to decide otherwise.
That night, I met up with Veelishis and Raina at Mo's in The Crest, and we had a fabulous time reconnecting and talking smack about our fellow alumni. It was sadly here where I made a major misstep by consuming one of Mo's trademark drinks that tasted like sugar water, and was probably chock full of cheap alcohol. The whole next day, I was reeling. In fact, most every day of the vacation began with a vomit-filled regret at the altar of the porcelain god, something that would probably have been kept in check if Grandma Petunia had been staying with me.
Nevertheless, I powered through, and met up with Aaron to do The Crest proper that night, as we passed by the many places of our past that had changed, finally landing at Flicks, which was flocking with trendy millennials, and had been completely redone from the last time I had been in '99.
It was then Christmas Eve dinner at my in-laws and Christmas Day dinner at Marie's, the latter of which included fun playtime with my destructive, but adorable, little nephew, before I bid everyone adieu, and settled in for the trip home.
I'm a little fluffy around the mid section, and the alcohol consumption has gone right to my face, but am trying to muster up the energy to hit the gym or at least work out at home today, and def must go tomorrow. I got sick on my last day there, and still feel a little under the weather. I had planned to adopt a second cat today, but after reading up on the idea, the notion of failure and creating a hostile home environment for both Shazaam and a new kitty, seems too much to bear. Unsurprisingly, my lovely holiday vacay feels like it's whipped by in a flash, and I'm shocked that I only have five days left of it. I'm supposed to have lunch with Lea on Saturday, and have no plans for anything on New Year's.
Taking deep breaths, and trying not to let these little pangs of anxiety balloon into an emotional overload. Good Lawd...
Tuesday, December 19, 2017
The T
I went to the work party on Friday, Ubering there on my own, and stayed 'til about twenty three of sixty something in the white elephant gift game. To my great joy, there was a side exit out of which I slipped and Ubered right on back home. This counts as one of the good things about my old boss retiring as she most assuredly would've kept tabs on me.
In addition, I'm in the midst of a rather productive vacation. I even went to the gym, whitened my teeth, and cleaned the kitchen yesterday; and cleaned the bathroom, including scrubbing down my vile shower, today. Teeth whitening and gym to follow.
I wisely mapped out happy hours with two groups of friends while I am in SD, have my nephew's birthday party to go to, dinner with mom and her new boyfriend, and, of course, Christmas and Christmas eve. One of those friends is Rachelle, who I haven't seen in ten years, and Raina, who I haven't seen in over ten and a half. Raina had been living in the Bay Area, but moved back to SD after her mom died. So the days are rather accounted for, not that that's a bad thing. Since my grandma is unable to come, which is both a bummer and a relief, I'll still have sufficient freedom to do my own thing, including checking out the old gayborhood, even though I've been doing that daily via Google Maps.
Stretching out every lovely minute of this vacay.
In addition, I'm in the midst of a rather productive vacation. I even went to the gym, whitened my teeth, and cleaned the kitchen yesterday; and cleaned the bathroom, including scrubbing down my vile shower, today. Teeth whitening and gym to follow.
I wisely mapped out happy hours with two groups of friends while I am in SD, have my nephew's birthday party to go to, dinner with mom and her new boyfriend, and, of course, Christmas and Christmas eve. One of those friends is Rachelle, who I haven't seen in ten years, and Raina, who I haven't seen in over ten and a half. Raina had been living in the Bay Area, but moved back to SD after her mom died. So the days are rather accounted for, not that that's a bad thing. Since my grandma is unable to come, which is both a bummer and a relief, I'll still have sufficient freedom to do my own thing, including checking out the old gayborhood, even though I've been doing that daily via Google Maps.
Stretching out every lovely minute of this vacay.
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