Glory holes for everyone! Call me a pessimist, but I think the idea of an All-Gay High School is counter-productive and obnoxious. Aren't gay people isolated enough? It is so unrealistic to think you can live in a world that consists of only gay people. Sure, the idea of personal freedom in high school sounds great. But... how are you really preparing yourself for the real world? And... wouldn't the entire school be an excellent target for hate crimes?
After a very relaxing weekend, I am home. I cannot remember the last birthday I enjoyed as much as THREE-ONE! On my actual birthday we fished in the bay. Saturday we boated to Tangier Island. The island was inhabited in the 1700s by fishermen. The ancestors of these people still subside there. It was really like stepping into another world. They have a very distinct accent. Their lives are so simple and interesting. The rest of the weekend Philip and I got our asses kicked in the Spades-Match-From-Hell! I honestly thought we played the game well... until now.
The weekend fueled my desire to own a mountain/lake retreat. I need a place to regroup like that. I've started putting together a mental plan of action. First, we must get the pool put in the backyard. After that... a retreat. A very quiet, secluded cabin.
Wednesday, July 23, 2003 :::
Through a random chain of events, I've reconnected with my High School French Teacher via email. She is in her early fifties and retired five years ago. She started a Travel Business and spends her time jet-setting. In her last email she gave me the details of her whereabouts for the last three months. I wish my last three months involved stops in Spain, Italy and Scotland.
Most people would know what was happening in their hometown, but my parents moved from that town after my high school graduation. I've been back once in the last thirteen years. Basically, I know nothing about most people from my childhood. For the most part, I would like to keep it that way. I did not like most of those people.
However, It is nice to reconnect with a person I enjoyed. I think Mrs. Newsome knew Walt, before Walt knew Walt. In my last reply I was completely open about my life. I know she will accept my sexuality; it will make her want to see me more.
I remember when we studied French words used in the English language. She made it so much fun. The first day she used the word menage-trois. The conversation followed...
Stupid Jock: Um, whuuuatsthat?
Mrs. Newsome: It's when three people have sex. You know... three girls, three guys, a guy and two girls.
Prissy Cheerleader: How do two girls do it?
Mrs. Newsome (sticks out her tongue and says): With their tongues!!!
Prissy Cheerleader and most of the class: Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!!!!!
I laughed. Mrs. Newsome looked at me and winked. I loved her. I mean really loved her.
blue. it is absolutely, unequivocally my favorite color. i lurv it. when philip and i started dating he gave me a blue piece of pottery and a blue neclace on his trip to spain; that was the first birthday. last year he gave me a blue blown glass bowl. this year i got one of su's blue paintings (my FAVORITE ONE).
Coming off of a full and complete weekend can either be depressing or it can be great. Today it is great. My beach blanket bingo birthday bash was entirely too much fun. I was acutely aware of the fantastic people who are my friends. I love them all. Thanks to everyone for being there.
Yesterday I was completely lazy. I pretended Atlanta was covered with rain. I stayed inside, watched movies and kept telephone conversations to a minimum. It was a little 'me-day' and I LOVED it.
This week promises to move quickly. We head out to Rick's place on the James River Thursday. Friday is my actual 31st. Woo Hoo.
Happy Monday! (and thanks to my wonderful friends for loving me)
Friday, July 18, 2003 ::: It was just a normal Friday morning...
The sun was not out yet, but Liz sent sunshine my way this morning. She sent an instant message to determine if my birthday was this Friday or next. I told her next, but she was still the first to wish my a Happy 31st. Our conversation jumped from a wacky dream to plant killing cats to cleaning. We finally created a plan.
Liz is going to transform Tamee and Teena into French Maids, but not just ordinary French Maids... Fancy French Maids. Liz decided the country whores would change our names to Teéna-Marie, and Tamé. Hmmmm?
Ok. Speaking of Teena and Tamee... Aren't they going to P'town in Forty-two days? Time to go shopping...
My favorite Talk Radio Show announces what Pat Robertson is praying for from time-to-time. I heard this on Tuesday. It still makes me laugh. This makes me laugh too. FYI, he's also praying for DC to get another baseball team. Oh, oh, oh... the important and logical.
By the way, my face time on the news today was horrible. I was looking everywhere except for ahead. What was that all about?! I must go erase this video tape, before John Brown gets his hands on it.
Great, great, great, great, great, great day... PEOPLE! I lifted for forty-five minutes and ran home from the gym. I took a longer route this morning, which means I ran about five miles. I feel great. Great. Great. Great. Forty-three more days of making money and losing weight. Forty-three days of not rushing through life. Forty-three days. Forty-three days. So, I just want to say I feel great.
As I ran home from the gym today, I saw a news crew working on a report. It was about pedestrians in crosswalks. This is a hot, hot, hot button with me. Especially since the crosswalk near my house is routinely ignored. I decided to applaud the work of the volunteers and the reporter. As a result, they interviewed me. I'll be on Channel 46 at noon today. Oh Lort. Sweaty.
Philip took his entire group to Six Flags for a 'team building' day yesterday. We decided to meet after they finished and be kids for an evening. We rode every roller coaster, except one. It broke down a few times yesterday; that was enough of a deterrent for me.
I thought about the similarities between my approach to life and my approach to the rides. They are:
I anxiously wait in line.
I get on the ride.
I spend the entire time wondering what comes next.
I'm left wanting more, because I never just enjoyed where I was.
I have been rushing through life, like I am waiting for a ride. I have been spending entirely too much time wondering what comes next, rather than just enjoying what is happening now. I have completely forgotten that life IS the ride. One. Step. At. A. Time. I said these words on the way home from the gym. Take. It. Easy. I have been acting like my 71st birthday is next Friday, instead of my 31st.
It seems so simple, but I keep getting caught up with 'where I should be'... and not WHERE I ALREADY AM. So, I am starting a little exercise. I refuse to be excited about my vacation as I wait for the next forty-five days. I will wake each day and be thankful for an additional 24 hours to make money and lose weight. HA!
From time to time a simple event will evoke a flood of positive energy within me. Last night I watched a film I neglected for months. I cannot believe I read the book and heard the hype, but continued to neglect watching it myself. Maybe it is because most often a book-to-movie is not so well done. This, however, was very well done.
Philip and I sat in silence after the film. I thought about the many parts of myself I've neglected. I thought about how quickly life moves. I pondered the importance of being true to yourself.
In conjunction with this, yesterday I was reminded of how quickly things change. Philip and I actually passed the exact spot where the tree fell as the storm began last night. Five minutes. That was the difference between my life and their lives. I knew it was a violent storm the moment I heard the first roar of thunder.
I also know it is time to start listening to myself. It's time to unleash good...
Yesterday happened to be one of my favorite days in a very long time. My brother arrived with a mess of live lobster in tow; he caught them all lobstering off of the coast of New Hampshire. The morning rain quickly altered our plan. The phone calls resulted in an afternoon at Trey's with some of my favorite people. It bled into an evening of even more of my peeps feasting on some surf n' turf at our home.
My younger brother is not so young anymore. I've always thought he rocked, but I saw that he's really come into his own. I remember that happening somewhere around 28 too. The whole day made me even more anxious for his impending move to Dixie. He spent a large portion of the evening cooking lobstah for the crew. It was deeeeeeeeeeee-lish-ous. I hope you received the message to join us at my house.
As people filtered out we tried to conjure up some fun for Matt. Trey, Megan, Philip, Matt and I made a trip up Cheshire Bridge to The Chamber. It was my maiden voyage; Matt's as well. When we walked in I thought I had gone through a secret tunnel to an Underground Club in London. The music was the best I've ever heard in this town. The scene was new, which is always a bonus. Since none of us had our face all pierced, nor body super tatted, we were the minority... but I never felt it.
The combination of scotch and a ritalin gave some of us the perfect energy and buzz for gettin' our funk on. So we did. And we did. And we did again. And then I watched Matt take it all in. He was not shocked, but it certainly grabbed a large portion of his attention.
Around 1.30 our crew was diffusing. We ran Trey home and came back to our house. Of course, Philip wanted to dance more. And me? Oh yes. So the two of us went back and grooved until 3. I have not benefited from such ample personal space on a dance floor since I attempted to make an off night an on night. And well, that's been a little while. Just to clarify, last night was on. I cannot remember the last time I had so much fun dancing with my man. Flirting. Laughing. And, um, well... we was kickin' it.
So about this morning... I'm up. I'm slightly exhausted. But I could vision the disaster in my kitchen and patio from the comfort of bed. Can I tell you? My vision was too kind. I had to attack it. And I need to finish it now, but I'll be back. It just won't be today. I'm tasked with finishing my favorite weekend of the summer.
Water flowers: check.
Water garden: check.
Sweep front walkway: check.
Pack for Lake Lanier: check.
Organize canine responsibilities: check.
Make bed: check.
Gather booze: check.
Gather green: check.
Burn CD: check.
Laugh my ASS OFF: check. (props to GPB)
Fetch brother from the airport: after the shower.
Tuesday, July 01, 2003 ::: So, I says to myself...
Blah, blah, blah.
Rain, rain, rain.
Pride was so proud. I, on the other hand, was a little disgusted. I just kept asking myself, "Why are some of these people so proud?" There were two things I also asked myself at the parade. Was Iuninterested or was ITuninteresting? I think it was a little of both, but that is ok. I had my friends near; and we all had our own fun.
This week is short and not a complaint is heard from me. I think we're going back to the lake on Thursday night. My brother comes in on Saturday to spend two nights with us. He's actually being offered a position to manage the Atlanta market for his company, who is headquarted an hour east of here. Frightening: all three of us in the same state again. I suggest everyone duck for cover.