4:38am I got this phone call about an hour ago. Here I am, sitting at my desk. It's quiet. Not a whole lot of calls coming in. One of our trainers was approaching my desk but I answered my phone anyway because of the person calling. His sleepy voice communicated the sweet, cuddly boy of innocence. (In seductive contrast to the penetrating stare of his whispered instructions.) I like the subtle--and not so subtle--play of our words and actions. It's a chemistry that I have often found difficult to match up. I've often felt that I'm either on one end or the other more than existing with some fluidity.
I wrote Nathan an e-mail this morning that got me teary-eyed. It also helped me to look at my life in perspective. I'd say the focus is clearer today. It doesn't mean that it couldn't go out of focus again.
Monday, June 30, 2003
Saturday, June 28, 2003
Baseline
9:43am I like solving problems. I just got off a call where everything seemed to be set-up correctly and there was no reason why the customer's phone should not have worked. I started "fiddling' with the switch record and got the phone working. What I did wasn't rocket science, but the process of troubleshooting and getting resolution satisfies me. This is a machine. The answers are usually black and white and this so appeals to that piece of my personality that wants structure and order. People complicate this structure, but the satisfaction is the same in trying to solve issues. Something sparks in me. What I've tamed in myself over time is the expectation that helping to solve problems does not become a personal issue for me. To be engaged but not necessarily involved. Something in me thrives on the challenge. Alas, there are some things that cannot be solved and one must know when the solution is in forgoing any attempt at resolution.
10:19am I'm barely awake. An hour and a half of sleep yesterday followed by drinks at dinner and drinks out with friends and then a 25 minute nap before racing into work. I remember everything. I had a nice time hanging out with Sebastian and roommate Art for dinner. We took a tour of the Sports Club of Irvine where I ran into Rodney--of Rodney & Richie (the twins) from way back in my late teens.
"Lil Bros" were at The Boom. Alex, Dan, Joey. Bobby didn't make it. I was explaining to Ryan online that my "lil bros" were there. Funny that my lil bros are older than him and my real brothers are too. Ahh, what a quaint moment of pause at the keyboard.
Shut up Chuck.
10:19am I'm barely awake. An hour and a half of sleep yesterday followed by drinks at dinner and drinks out with friends and then a 25 minute nap before racing into work. I remember everything. I had a nice time hanging out with Sebastian and roommate Art for dinner. We took a tour of the Sports Club of Irvine where I ran into Rodney--of Rodney & Richie (the twins) from way back in my late teens.
"Lil Bros" were at The Boom. Alex, Dan, Joey. Bobby didn't make it. I was explaining to Ryan online that my "lil bros" were there. Funny that my lil bros are older than him and my real brothers are too. Ahh, what a quaint moment of pause at the keyboard.
Shut up Chuck.
Friday, June 27, 2003
I like... you know... for sure
8:47am Two hours here. I took my customary walk around the buildings on this last break and got a call from my Psychiatrist regarding changing my medication. She wants to see me rather than talk on the phone about it. No shit. I went from docile to hostile in like three seconds when she mentioned that I cancelled my appointment with her yesterday. (The appointment was originally scheduled for last week and her office cancelled it on me.) So now I have an appointment for next Thursday at 2pm. Cha Ching... another $10 co-pay. I want to discuss Wellbutrin & Effexor.
I told Ryan that I like him. It kind of feels juvenile to write that down. Like, "Dear Diary... today I told a boy that I like him." But really, I don't say the words to people that often. In the past I've purely expected that they know what I'm thinking because I'm spending time with them so that should "be enough" in my mind. I'm trying to reinforce something with words not just actions.
9:53am One hour left. Ahh.....finally, some beach time this week. The weather is spicing up. Mom might join me today; I'll have to call when I get off to confirm or not.
I've been thinking of Nathan the last couple of days. I think being around Ryan and his connection with Disney has the connections in my brain firing off.
I told Ryan that I like him. It kind of feels juvenile to write that down. Like, "Dear Diary... today I told a boy that I like him." But really, I don't say the words to people that often. In the past I've purely expected that they know what I'm thinking because I'm spending time with them so that should "be enough" in my mind. I'm trying to reinforce something with words not just actions.
9:53am One hour left. Ahh.....finally, some beach time this week. The weather is spicing up. Mom might join me today; I'll have to call when I get off to confirm or not.
I've been thinking of Nathan the last couple of days. I think being around Ryan and his connection with Disney has the connections in my brain firing off.
Thursday, June 26, 2003
Minding
1:57pm School is out and I'm in the waiting room at the doctor's office. I swallowed, and for a moment tasted Ryan in my mouth. So I'm sitting here with a smile on my face and I'm in complete contrast to the other people.
The Beetles are playing in the receptionist area. She's singing. Is that supposed to put people at ease? I think having classical music piped in my help. I think a Taco Bell in Orange did that for some of its more feisty patrons.
FOOD. Somehow I went over my budget again and am stretching my dollars until Monday when I get paid. When I'm not going out and blowing money, I find other ways like fast food instead of the grocery store.
My sister sent me an instant message to start conversation yesterday. That was nice.
I like smelling good. Cologne. But I also like that slightly perspired smell after running or working out. (Okay, in my case running or dancing since I definitely don't work out.) Nothing fetid or too rank.
The Beetles are playing in the receptionist area. She's singing. Is that supposed to put people at ease? I think having classical music piped in my help. I think a Taco Bell in Orange did that for some of its more feisty patrons.
FOOD. Somehow I went over my budget again and am stretching my dollars until Monday when I get paid. When I'm not going out and blowing money, I find other ways like fast food instead of the grocery store.
My sister sent me an instant message to start conversation yesterday. That was nice.
I like smelling good. Cologne. But I also like that slightly perspired smell after running or working out. (Okay, in my case running or dancing since I definitely don't work out.) Nothing fetid or too rank.
Wednesday, June 25, 2003
But what do I know?
4:15pm Chuck is on his way to meet me here at The Library. I drove PCH to get here. Took about an hour. Viewing the waves while driving reminded me of all the fun I'd had there in the water.
I had my first conversation with Ryan last night that wasn't set in a playful affectionate arena and wasn't casual like the weather. We shared our pasts and that's a little bit of a door opening into that vulnerable area. I'm treading lightly and reminding myself that time is not going to move any faster.
I apologized to Randy for my assumptions. I don't think it matters much anymore. There is some animosity he holds for me that will not subside and I care not to indulge it.
I'm liking the enthusiasm and organization that the Public Speaking instructor conducts his class with. Much of what he is teaching I'm finding review, but he holds my interest while I'm there. Taking notes made me remember what it's like to enjoy school. I thought of looking for a second session class that starts at 2pm so that I could get another class in but I'll wait until the two sessions overlap to make that decision.
I'm still feeling a sadness inside that I cannot isolate. I remarked to Lena online this morning that I haven't cried since starting Prozac. I've really felt like wanting to the past day or so but haven't been able to.
All these books on the shelf. Authors upon authors. Is this me? The great American novel. It escapes me, but it's there inside. Hiding. Peeking out.
Smiling is contagious "they" say.
Chuck is here now. (4:39pm)
I had my first conversation with Ryan last night that wasn't set in a playful affectionate arena and wasn't casual like the weather. We shared our pasts and that's a little bit of a door opening into that vulnerable area. I'm treading lightly and reminding myself that time is not going to move any faster.
I apologized to Randy for my assumptions. I don't think it matters much anymore. There is some animosity he holds for me that will not subside and I care not to indulge it.
I'm liking the enthusiasm and organization that the Public Speaking instructor conducts his class with. Much of what he is teaching I'm finding review, but he holds my interest while I'm there. Taking notes made me remember what it's like to enjoy school. I thought of looking for a second session class that starts at 2pm so that I could get another class in but I'll wait until the two sessions overlap to make that decision.
I'm still feeling a sadness inside that I cannot isolate. I remarked to Lena online this morning that I haven't cried since starting Prozac. I've really felt like wanting to the past day or so but haven't been able to.
All these books on the shelf. Authors upon authors. Is this me? The great American novel. It escapes me, but it's there inside. Hiding. Peeking out.
Smiling is contagious "they" say.
Chuck is here now. (4:39pm)
Hiding under where?
11:56am I didn't wear any underwear today and the classroom is "stuffy" (as one girl just blurted out.) A window is opened. I'm hoping that the dark gray shorts I'm wearing don't become a darker shade. I dressed for a trip to the beach.
Argh. Just remembered that I didn't take meds. This means a trip to the house before beach. FOOD! Hi stomach.
These stupid kids---can't seem to sign up for the class.
Argh. Just remembered that I didn't take meds. This means a trip to the house before beach. FOOD! Hi stomach.
These stupid kids---can't seem to sign up for the class.
Testy
2:20am Day two of school, half way through the first week. Only five weeks left. Ahh.
I have this instinct thing, right? It drives me crazy most of the time. I don't really understand it. That translates into not really understanding myself all the time. When it's quiet I plod through life without much thought--like everyone else.
I have this instinct thing, right? It drives me crazy most of the time. I don't really understand it. That translates into not really understanding myself all the time. When it's quiet I plod through life without much thought--like everyone else.
Tuesday, June 24, 2003
Rave Reviews
3:00am Eyelids as heavy as the gravity of the sun. What sweet pleasure payment this is for another fantastic date with Ryan. I've been awake since my nap during lunch at work. After work was my first day of class. The instructor seems down to earth and enjoyable. We will be video taped on all of our speeches. I already loathe the fact that I have to read. How did I make it through 12 years of school as an A student when I have this attitude toward studying?
There was a point where we both fell asleep together. Cuddles; rapture raining down in a cloud of comfort. Such an equal energy of enthusiasm. Eight and ten hour dates. I feel myself shining around him.
Homework for class...reading. Oh, and I'm supposed to think of the most virtuous person I know and write about why I think they are. So if I look out to my friends and family, I turn to the mirror and think of myself. Normally I'd feel conceited about this, but if it's the truth, how can that be ignored? I hold myself to a standard that I I don't see many others in. (And I too fall short sometimes.)
There was a point where we both fell asleep together. Cuddles; rapture raining down in a cloud of comfort. Such an equal energy of enthusiasm. Eight and ten hour dates. I feel myself shining around him.
Homework for class...reading. Oh, and I'm supposed to think of the most virtuous person I know and write about why I think they are. So if I look out to my friends and family, I turn to the mirror and think of myself. Normally I'd feel conceited about this, but if it's the truth, how can that be ignored? I hold myself to a standard that I I don't see many others in. (And I too fall short sometimes.)
Monday, June 23, 2003
This new world for me.
Sticky hot; like a humid hangover. The thinnest layer of perspiration from forehead to ankles urges the sensation for a shower. I slept so much that I feel super awake now. So far, I'm one of three guys in this class. None of us are straight. Ha ha ha... okay that was purley a stereotype joke. I have no clue of the orietations of anyone.
Does Summer school imply a more astute clientele?
Does Summer school imply a more astute clientele?
Active Intentions
6:15am "No Such Thing" by John Mayer. I've got 45 until the lunch thing starts. Still not ATM card so looks like Carl's Jr. will be my next charge. The organic blue corn chips w/sesame seeds aren't quashing all hunger.
School starts in a little under six hours. Public speaking. Eye contact, lose the filler words of "uh" "and" "umm", use hands sparingly but effectively, project the voice to the back row. I seem to remember these thing from Junior year of high school.
Tired. Still...after 11 1/2 hours of sleep last night. Another 15 minute nape here at work. I'm fading in and out typing. My head remembers some physics: a body at rest tends to stay at rest, the first part of Newton's 1st Law of Motion. I'm not doing well at keeping active, only staying awake but not necessarily doing anything vigorous.
Periodic table of elements? Yeah... I used to know that too. Exercise of the mind is just as important.
School starts in a little under six hours. Public speaking. Eye contact, lose the filler words of "uh" "and" "umm", use hands sparingly but effectively, project the voice to the back row. I seem to remember these thing from Junior year of high school.
Tired. Still...after 11 1/2 hours of sleep last night. Another 15 minute nape here at work. I'm fading in and out typing. My head remembers some physics: a body at rest tends to stay at rest, the first part of Newton's 1st Law of Motion. I'm not doing well at keeping active, only staying awake but not necessarily doing anything vigorous.
Periodic table of elements? Yeah... I used to know that too. Exercise of the mind is just as important.
Saturday, June 21, 2003
Will the gray clouds blow away?
2:57am The power one grants another over them is a gift of trust in people who seek healthy connections. It can be a fool's giveaway for co-dependents. Hmm...but I'm still of the opinion that even healthy relationships are co-dependent to some degree or else why would we couple ourselves at all? People need people. The degree to which we need others may vary, but I do believe the need itself to be a constant.
This thought entered my mind earlier at Charlie's birthday party in Long Beach. I was on the phone with Eddie when Ryan called me. I struggle to listen to Eddie's sense of loss with Chuck. I can hear in his voice the self-esteem issues that he speaks but does not hear himself. As he talked about wanting Chuck in his life, Ryan called me and a smile formed inside my brain and beamed out to my mouth. I realized that the only difference between Eddie and me at that moment was that I was older and understood myself, but the initial impulse was still the same: this person makes me feel good and I want to be around them.
MEMORY LANE:
============
Garage shows. Popcorn. Electrical wire from the rafters with a blanket used as the curtain for a stage. I had not thought of this memory in a long time. I remember cleaning out the garage to make space to put on a show. This memory was surfaced when Tina from work asked something to the effect of if I had always been dramatic. From these garage shows, to the wedding with grass rings in the backyard to the re-enactment of Batman episodes on the bunk beds with the God Parents' daughters. I just took a sip of some chocolate milk and now I'm thinking of my first days in G.A.T.E. and Miss Annie's class. Painting with oils, a Braille machine--I was afraid of the blind girl there.
This thought entered my mind earlier at Charlie's birthday party in Long Beach. I was on the phone with Eddie when Ryan called me. I struggle to listen to Eddie's sense of loss with Chuck. I can hear in his voice the self-esteem issues that he speaks but does not hear himself. As he talked about wanting Chuck in his life, Ryan called me and a smile formed inside my brain and beamed out to my mouth. I realized that the only difference between Eddie and me at that moment was that I was older and understood myself, but the initial impulse was still the same: this person makes me feel good and I want to be around them.
MEMORY LANE:
============
Garage shows. Popcorn. Electrical wire from the rafters with a blanket used as the curtain for a stage. I had not thought of this memory in a long time. I remember cleaning out the garage to make space to put on a show. This memory was surfaced when Tina from work asked something to the effect of if I had always been dramatic. From these garage shows, to the wedding with grass rings in the backyard to the re-enactment of Batman episodes on the bunk beds with the God Parents' daughters. I just took a sip of some chocolate milk and now I'm thinking of my first days in G.A.T.E. and Miss Annie's class. Painting with oils, a Braille machine--I was afraid of the blind girl there.
Friday, June 20, 2003
Lousy Timing
4:27am I find myself turned into a smiley & happy little kid when the stage of romance is set. I'm pulled into the fantasy of it all. More than that, I'm titillated by the prospect of courting something that could blossom into a future. I feel my heart race with exhilaration. Behind all the childlike innocence of this, I know that I'm a grown man and what races on one level, surges quite hot on another. There is an intelligent seduction in watching someone's intents from eye to eye. There is a primal passion that we tame until the moment is right to restrain no more. I felt all of this Tuesday night with Ryan.
I feel slightly better since my last entry. I guess a shot in the ass and a day of reflection can do that. Also, knowing that my body has been purged of any lurking bacteria is mind-easing. I tried retracing my steps to figure what I could've done differently, but the reality is that nothing would have been done differently. The only choice to be made in retrospect was in not spending time with any one person; choosing more wisely perhaps.
I feel slightly better since my last entry. I guess a shot in the ass and a day of reflection can do that. Also, knowing that my body has been purged of any lurking bacteria is mind-easing. I tried retracing my steps to figure what I could've done differently, but the reality is that nothing would have been done differently. The only choice to be made in retrospect was in not spending time with any one person; choosing more wisely perhaps.
Thursday, June 19, 2003
STD's
10:48am Angry at myself right now.....a good run will expel the demons within, but first some time with friends and household chores.
Rocephin, Doxycycline, Neomycin, Prozac....these are the drugs sharing space with my body. Most of us don't realize the delicate nature of how our body operates. An infection enters and changes a microscopic system which in turn causes soreness, fever, maybe fatigue. A heart might race, pounding harder, pushing blood that carries toxins as well as soldier-cells to cure whatever invades. We're so much further along than our cave dwelling days, but still at the mercy of invisible organisms.
Invisible.... one cannot see without communication. One cannot be safe without knowledge. Enter the concept of trust which ultimately seals whether or not the communication of knowledge is real or not. Ignorance is only bliss when comprehension cannot be grasped. That's my problem, I usually comprehend. Damn.
So I did my social duty and talked to relevant parties. The source is still a mystery. Conjecture and educated guessing only serve to help quell the anger at myself---they are not to be believed any more than the invisibility which brought them to me.
This really sucks.
Rocephin, Doxycycline, Neomycin, Prozac....these are the drugs sharing space with my body. Most of us don't realize the delicate nature of how our body operates. An infection enters and changes a microscopic system which in turn causes soreness, fever, maybe fatigue. A heart might race, pounding harder, pushing blood that carries toxins as well as soldier-cells to cure whatever invades. We're so much further along than our cave dwelling days, but still at the mercy of invisible organisms.
Invisible.... one cannot see without communication. One cannot be safe without knowledge. Enter the concept of trust which ultimately seals whether or not the communication of knowledge is real or not. Ignorance is only bliss when comprehension cannot be grasped. That's my problem, I usually comprehend. Damn.
So I did my social duty and talked to relevant parties. The source is still a mystery. Conjecture and educated guessing only serve to help quell the anger at myself---they are not to be believed any more than the invisibility which brought them to me.
This really sucks.
Wednesday, June 18, 2003
Leakage of Boxers to Dreams of bedtime
5:00am Waiting can really pay off sometimes. Being the impatient soul that I am, that's a bold statement with much meaning. I just spent four really amazing hours in my living room. The company was the key ingredient. Vibe-o-meter is off the chart and I
Kissing has always been my favorite thing to do. Ever since that horrible day on the People Mover with Brandy Carrick Freshman year, I have vowed to savor and enjoy every kiss or not have one at all.
My head has this all too familiar afterglow feeling that I remember from drugs of years past. I feel so completely on a natural high right now. I close my eyes to process the next thought to write and my mind replays that a smile forms on my faces and my head bobs to the side, resting on my shoulder in the memory bliss.
Jeans tossed to the floor; boxers, socks and tank cuddling the softness that is my skin until someday when it's touched again by his hands and warmed deeply by his heat.
Kissing has always been my favorite thing to do. Ever since that horrible day on the People Mover with Brandy Carrick Freshman year, I have vowed to savor and enjoy every kiss or not have one at all.
My head has this all too familiar afterglow feeling that I remember from drugs of years past. I feel so completely on a natural high right now. I close my eyes to process the next thought to write and my mind replays that a smile forms on my faces and my head bobs to the side, resting on my shoulder in the memory bliss.
Jeans tossed to the floor; boxers, socks and tank cuddling the softness that is my skin until someday when it's touched again by his hands and warmed deeply by his heat.
Monday, June 16, 2003
6a.m. & the feet underneath
2:47am Monday morning. Monday...Monday. Since waking up Friday night around 8pm, I've slept seven hours. (Five of them just before coming into work tonight.) I could float off to sleep if I rested my head. So our course.... a call should drop in right now. :-)
I thought I might sleep at the beach earlier. When roommate Art and I arrived there around noon I tried laying down and closing my eyes. I may have drifted for a few minutes, but the volleyball games going on kept entering my ear. Soon my mother arrived. Thereafter, Sebastian, then Eddie w/Willie and much later Rey and even later, Brandon w/Drew. (Drew reminded me of Jeremy Woods. It was the same attitude I remember from 10 years ago.) So yeah, no sleep at the beach, but what an education watching the "daycare center" children at play.
In a prior post I pondered the ethical catch of recording my life here while talking about the actions of other people's lives. (Being that this is a personal but by no means PRIVATE web blog.) The thought still bangs around the skull plates. So right now I'm gonna try something that I don't tap into a lot... focusing on the emotion of anger and brain-blasting every thought as it surfaces to be typed:
ANGER:
/\/\/\/aaaaahhhhhh!!!! fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.. you mother fucking fuck fuck fuck! kick! jump stomp bodyslam. I want to hurt, squish, hit bite. Shake some sense into these people. Yell! yell! yell! I want to run & run & run & run and get hot and exhausted and collapse then get up and do it again. Feel my heart racing-racing. Shaking, feeling my heart pound so hard that a lump in my throat causes breaks in words and thoughts. Grunts & groans feeling my knuckles hit a punching bag, kicking it, sweating, straining muscles. Why don't they listen? Gnash! Gnash!
/\/\/\/
Anger is something that I don't show outwardly a lot. Randy witnessed me kicking a wall once. When Tracy & lived in Upland I knocked a container full of pens off the counter and across the room after the tow truck hit me in the street as I tried to stop it. These incidents were a decade apart. It isn't something that I like to feel or allow myself to very often. I had no way to show it when I was growing up. No way that was acceptable, so it got buried. I would observe how much it drove others and I did not want to be like that. I still don't. I am not. But it's there underneath nonetheless.
I look at the clock on my phone and it's 5:11. Coincidence? Or association of what I know since I've been talking to Ryan online more? It is strange to see the time as I actually take steps to meet him. The antics of the beach left me with a clear understanding of the communication that I want.
8:42am I related the same information to both Chuck and Randy and was met with widely different reactions. In the past I had been in receipt of information that I could not verify through a primary source. Third hand information being passed down wasn't something that I felt comfortable relating. But yesterday I was I had first hand accounts of what was happening or had happened and I told both of them. Yes....I could have said nothing, but then what type of friend am I? The question/test I used was, "Would I want to know?" The answer being yes, I made my decision. I wasn't looking for any type of higher social status in their lives. I was not seeking to induce anger or hurt. It bothers me not whether they choose to use the information or not, but it does bother me that ulterior motives may be ascribed to my actions.
Was nice to see my mom at the beach. Sebastian liked meeting her. We all joked and had fun with the "shoe-string" bikini jokes. Everyone always likes my mom. It makes me feel lucky when I compare to other people.
Psyche appointment at 3pm today. Six weeks into this and I can't say that I'm noticing much difference. Still tired...but that's not a valid observation coming off this weekend.
9:46am... Appointment was cancelled by the doctor's office. Hahahaha. Fate is a funny jester these days.
I thought I might sleep at the beach earlier. When roommate Art and I arrived there around noon I tried laying down and closing my eyes. I may have drifted for a few minutes, but the volleyball games going on kept entering my ear. Soon my mother arrived. Thereafter, Sebastian, then Eddie w/Willie and much later Rey and even later, Brandon w/Drew. (Drew reminded me of Jeremy Woods. It was the same attitude I remember from 10 years ago.) So yeah, no sleep at the beach, but what an education watching the "daycare center" children at play.
In a prior post I pondered the ethical catch of recording my life here while talking about the actions of other people's lives. (Being that this is a personal but by no means PRIVATE web blog.) The thought still bangs around the skull plates. So right now I'm gonna try something that I don't tap into a lot... focusing on the emotion of anger and brain-blasting every thought as it surfaces to be typed:
ANGER:
/\/\/\/aaaaahhhhhh!!!! fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.. you mother fucking fuck fuck fuck! kick! jump stomp bodyslam. I want to hurt, squish, hit bite. Shake some sense into these people. Yell! yell! yell! I want to run & run & run & run and get hot and exhausted and collapse then get up and do it again. Feel my heart racing-racing. Shaking, feeling my heart pound so hard that a lump in my throat causes breaks in words and thoughts. Grunts & groans feeling my knuckles hit a punching bag, kicking it, sweating, straining muscles. Why don't they listen? Gnash! Gnash!
/\/\/\/
Anger is something that I don't show outwardly a lot. Randy witnessed me kicking a wall once. When Tracy & lived in Upland I knocked a container full of pens off the counter and across the room after the tow truck hit me in the street as I tried to stop it. These incidents were a decade apart. It isn't something that I like to feel or allow myself to very often. I had no way to show it when I was growing up. No way that was acceptable, so it got buried. I would observe how much it drove others and I did not want to be like that. I still don't. I am not. But it's there underneath nonetheless.
I look at the clock on my phone and it's 5:11. Coincidence? Or association of what I know since I've been talking to Ryan online more? It is strange to see the time as I actually take steps to meet him. The antics of the beach left me with a clear understanding of the communication that I want.
8:42am I related the same information to both Chuck and Randy and was met with widely different reactions. In the past I had been in receipt of information that I could not verify through a primary source. Third hand information being passed down wasn't something that I felt comfortable relating. But yesterday I was I had first hand accounts of what was happening or had happened and I told both of them. Yes....I could have said nothing, but then what type of friend am I? The question/test I used was, "Would I want to know?" The answer being yes, I made my decision. I wasn't looking for any type of higher social status in their lives. I was not seeking to induce anger or hurt. It bothers me not whether they choose to use the information or not, but it does bother me that ulterior motives may be ascribed to my actions.
Was nice to see my mom at the beach. Sebastian liked meeting her. We all joked and had fun with the "shoe-string" bikini jokes. Everyone always likes my mom. It makes me feel lucky when I compare to other people.
Psyche appointment at 3pm today. Six weeks into this and I can't say that I'm noticing much difference. Still tired...but that's not a valid observation coming off this weekend.
9:46am... Appointment was cancelled by the doctor's office. Hahahaha. Fate is a funny jester these days.
Saturday, June 14, 2003
Under the E.R. Moon
I'm in the emergency room of Kaiser hospital. The last time I was here was when Lanny & I came together. Because of a finger sprain. I was playing soccer and the ball jammed into my finger. Ha ha. Sports injuries. My knee, my ankle, fingers. Getting the wind knocked out of you. Bleeding. "Walking it off."
I am now tagged. My own hospital bracelet. I suppose this means that I have been admitted. Such morose faces. And the last time they x-rayed my hand. Wow...my fingernails are long again. This personal hygiene stuff is bothersome. My blood pressure was 131/78. No TV. No noise but the mother & daughter conversing, the 91 FWY through the sliding doors which are fully open. It must be 1am now because two nurses are leaving.
I start thinking about Jake in Texas. The hospital reminds me of a conversation we were having online earlier. He is in a surgical fellowship and was excited to find out that Columbia was interested in him. Talking to Jake online sometimes makes me remember back to junior high school when I had ambition enough to want to go to medical school. I wonder if growing up knowing my mom was a nurse contributed to that at all. And do you put a question mark at the end of a sentence that is a statement or purely rhetorical in nature.
Where do I choose to sit? Right under a fricken air vent. Shine on nipples...shine on.
So anyway, I'd like to meet Jake & Marc. I wonder if they get introduced to people as "Jake & Marc" or as "Marc & Jake." Or other variations like, "This is Jake, and hi boyfriend, Marc." Or vice versa. Probably depends on the friends who are doing the introductions.
So yeah, I can tell I'm bored and writing for the fuck of it.
What is the hospital national standard for soap?
I'm in the E.R. now. The room I've been placed in has a sign on the door that says "Knock before entering." Funny part is that the door is wide open. I wonder if I should make the joke to whatever medical personnel enters that they didn't knock before entering. Yeah... I can tell that it's one of those things that only I would find funny. And to think, I have a whole work shift after this.
I am now tagged. My own hospital bracelet. I suppose this means that I have been admitted. Such morose faces. And the last time they x-rayed my hand. Wow...my fingernails are long again. This personal hygiene stuff is bothersome. My blood pressure was 131/78. No TV. No noise but the mother & daughter conversing, the 91 FWY through the sliding doors which are fully open. It must be 1am now because two nurses are leaving.
I start thinking about Jake in Texas. The hospital reminds me of a conversation we were having online earlier. He is in a surgical fellowship and was excited to find out that Columbia was interested in him. Talking to Jake online sometimes makes me remember back to junior high school when I had ambition enough to want to go to medical school. I wonder if growing up knowing my mom was a nurse contributed to that at all. And do you put a question mark at the end of a sentence that is a statement or purely rhetorical in nature.
Where do I choose to sit? Right under a fricken air vent. Shine on nipples...shine on.
So anyway, I'd like to meet Jake & Marc. I wonder if they get introduced to people as "Jake & Marc" or as "Marc & Jake." Or other variations like, "This is Jake, and hi boyfriend, Marc." Or vice versa. Probably depends on the friends who are doing the introductions.
So yeah, I can tell I'm bored and writing for the fuck of it.
What is the hospital national standard for soap?
I'm in the E.R. now. The room I've been placed in has a sign on the door that says "Knock before entering." Funny part is that the door is wide open. I wonder if I should make the joke to whatever medical personnel enters that they didn't knock before entering. Yeah... I can tell that it's one of those things that only I would find funny. And to think, I have a whole work shift after this.
Kaiser Try #2 (not finished)
You can live your whole life and never see the shapes of the buildings, the tone of voice of "community" groups. You can hold onto a picture that is familiar because that's easier than trying to find a new frame that might better match the new wall that is the social paradigm of the decade.
Aging. I am becoming more aware of my mental limitations. Not forgetfulness. Not something diminishing. I mean to say that which I am limited in either care or understanding. At work, when I talk to some representatives on the phone, I can hear the limitation in them. While it may be in basic parts of mental faculties for them, I note that mine come into play more on the level of cognitive evaluation or subjective/objective appraisal. I simply intuit and often don't want to learn more. Why that is, I'm not quite sure. I don't have a the type of people around me that challenge or compete the same way as friends from the past. I am not in a career where I have ambitious collegues that I perform against in order to gain professional status and advancement. All these things become less and less important to me and because of this I find myself lost in a....
Aging. I am becoming more aware of my mental limitations. Not forgetfulness. Not something diminishing. I mean to say that which I am limited in either care or understanding. At work, when I talk to some representatives on the phone, I can hear the limitation in them. While it may be in basic parts of mental faculties for them, I note that mine come into play more on the level of cognitive evaluation or subjective/objective appraisal. I simply intuit and often don't want to learn more. Why that is, I'm not quite sure. I don't have a the type of people around me that challenge or compete the same way as friends from the past. I am not in a career where I have ambitious collegues that I perform against in order to gain professional status and advancement. All these things become less and less important to me and because of this I find myself lost in a....
Friday, June 13, 2003
Walking along a pond of marbles
2:36am I sent an e-mail to cousin Shirley to get as much contact information as possible for other members of the extended family so that I can start a Yahoogroup for everyone. I also sent out a message on my own family's Yahoogroup hoping that it will stimulate everyone else into sharing something. It bothers me that we aren't close. But I know you can't force closeness. Regrettably, it is something that is or something that develops over time.
Talked to Rey online today. Briefly. Jokingly I call him "Danger Boy" because of what I sense, but I actually think he's harmful only to himself. I'm also drawn to him because there's more to him than what would appear on the surface. True, that could be said about all of us, but some people you just know these things about. A divining rod for tortured souls I am, I am.
In order to hear certain things, you must first become a mouse.
I'd like to go out dancing this weekend. Lena and I talked about it briefly online. All the UC crowd has their finals this week. When you stop dancing every week, it seems like a long time in between going out. I miss it but I don't.
I got an e-mail from Amazon.com that a CD I ordered back in February that kept getting delayed was not going to be delivered because they couldn't obtain it. I'm so glad they notified me because I was waiting on pins & needles putting an entry into this journal every day waiting for the damn thing. Haha... I don't ever remember what the thing was. Oh yes, some guy from Tampa, FL recommended it to me. It will have to exist in the void that is everything that I know not.
I've been at work an hour now and taken 4 calls. Yippee.
Talked to Rey online today. Briefly. Jokingly I call him "Danger Boy" because of what I sense, but I actually think he's harmful only to himself. I'm also drawn to him because there's more to him than what would appear on the surface. True, that could be said about all of us, but some people you just know these things about. A divining rod for tortured souls I am, I am.
In order to hear certain things, you must first become a mouse.
I'd like to go out dancing this weekend. Lena and I talked about it briefly online. All the UC crowd has their finals this week. When you stop dancing every week, it seems like a long time in between going out. I miss it but I don't.
I got an e-mail from Amazon.com that a CD I ordered back in February that kept getting delayed was not going to be delivered because they couldn't obtain it. I'm so glad they notified me because I was waiting on pins & needles putting an entry into this journal every day waiting for the damn thing. Haha... I don't ever remember what the thing was. Oh yes, some guy from Tampa, FL recommended it to me. It will have to exist in the void that is everything that I know not.
I've been at work an hour now and taken 4 calls. Yippee.
Thursday, June 12, 2003
The space between us
3:26am I learned a valuable lesson from watching Nathan interact with some of his "coupled" friends over the years. He tended to be friends with both individuals and would find himself in the middle of them; lending an ear and a shoulder to cry on as any good friend would do. But often I thought he was too involved. Step back. Cheddy may be no more, but the individuals are. Chuck is my friend. When he calls me I know it's not to involve me any more than just to talk. Eddie is an acquaintance and when he calls I know it's because he needs some type of connection to Chuck and I provide that. I wasn't feeling all that hot today so I left my phone upstairs where I couldn't see it or hear any calls coming in. Sometimes I just need to step away. Unfortunately, I feel that not just about Cheddy, but about everything as of late.
It's happening. Exactly as teachers and parents said it would, you grow up and you grow apart and friendships don't have that cohesiveness as they did when you were younger. Careers & families replace friendships. I am not adjusting to this feeling very well. I haven't ever really adapted in the last ten years. Studies have been done on babies that receive touch after being born that show they develop better and have less health consequences than babies that are neglected and not shown that same warmth. I know that our brains and bodies change with age, but I don't think that something so basic would change over time. We simply condition ourselves to accept the level at when we are used to getting it. For a long time I was conditioned to love the touch of those around me, then that touch became something dark and shunned by me. Inside I still long for it. It's been a long road back to origins. Growing up does not need to mean growing old.
When we didn't know ourselves as well we were more insecure and relied on the closeness of friendship. I think of Arturo. He was such a starry-eyed romantic and now his focus seems to be more on his business wiles and stability. I know he hasn't lost that part of him. I know that that piece of him hurts a lot inwardly. His brain chemistry isn't made up to be anchored by that like I seem to be. What will Randy be like in 10 years? I certainly did not see myself like this.
4:49am Sex and sexual contact. People have such a spectrum of definitions as to what constitutes sex and what doesn't.
Some people only consider it "sex" if you have some time of intercourse. Hand jobs, BJ's, oral sex... these things are not sex to certain people. I say that any type of sexual contact that results in an individual getting off is sex. I guess I'm pretty liberal. Let me clarify--- LIBERAL, not LOOSE. hehe =)
So...since I'm not having sex, I want to occupy my time with hanging out with friends and keeping active rather than being idle.
Nothing new or profound.
It's happening. Exactly as teachers and parents said it would, you grow up and you grow apart and friendships don't have that cohesiveness as they did when you were younger. Careers & families replace friendships. I am not adjusting to this feeling very well. I haven't ever really adapted in the last ten years. Studies have been done on babies that receive touch after being born that show they develop better and have less health consequences than babies that are neglected and not shown that same warmth. I know that our brains and bodies change with age, but I don't think that something so basic would change over time. We simply condition ourselves to accept the level at when we are used to getting it. For a long time I was conditioned to love the touch of those around me, then that touch became something dark and shunned by me. Inside I still long for it. It's been a long road back to origins. Growing up does not need to mean growing old.
When we didn't know ourselves as well we were more insecure and relied on the closeness of friendship. I think of Arturo. He was such a starry-eyed romantic and now his focus seems to be more on his business wiles and stability. I know he hasn't lost that part of him. I know that that piece of him hurts a lot inwardly. His brain chemistry isn't made up to be anchored by that like I seem to be. What will Randy be like in 10 years? I certainly did not see myself like this.
4:49am Sex and sexual contact. People have such a spectrum of definitions as to what constitutes sex and what doesn't.
Some people only consider it "sex" if you have some time of intercourse. Hand jobs, BJ's, oral sex... these things are not sex to certain people. I say that any type of sexual contact that results in an individual getting off is sex. I guess I'm pretty liberal. Let me clarify--- LIBERAL, not LOOSE. hehe =)
So...since I'm not having sex, I want to occupy my time with hanging out with friends and keeping active rather than being idle.
Nothing new or profound.
Wednesday, June 11, 2003
Listening
3:30am "And you live life with your arms reached out. Eye to eye when speaking..."
-"Bright As Yellow"
by Innocence Mission
I had ear infections a lot when I was a child. I only remember one or two specific incidents while living in Seattle. That dreaded feeling of mom putting drops into the ears. I remember my head resting on the arm part of the green couch. It seems some of the strep infection has moved to my ear and the pain is just beyond words--even for me. I'll probably be going back into Kaiser in the morning to get something stronger than the over the counter stuff I had hoped would alleviate some of this.
I don't want to sleep now, but my body is telling me it needs to heal.
-"Bright As Yellow"
by Innocence Mission
I had ear infections a lot when I was a child. I only remember one or two specific incidents while living in Seattle. That dreaded feeling of mom putting drops into the ears. I remember my head resting on the arm part of the green couch. It seems some of the strep infection has moved to my ear and the pain is just beyond words--even for me. I'll probably be going back into Kaiser in the morning to get something stronger than the over the counter stuff I had hoped would alleviate some of this.
I don't want to sleep now, but my body is telling me it needs to heal.
Tuesday, June 10, 2003
Dawdling
3:40am E-mail surprise. When I got home I had catch-up conversation about Art's trip. I was tired. Yawning. I made it to my room, drew the curtains and created a new winamp play list of slow songs that would put me to sleep. I checked e-mail and had a message from Ryan that was unexpected and nice.
I downloaded DivX viewing codecs. :-)
I see the psycho doctor in a week. It's a brief 15 minute "touch base" session to see how the meds are. Having been on them now for 41 days... nothing really. I want to discuss alternatives. I feel dark still. My mind isn't striving for more than right now, today's dirt, this thought. I want to make plans.
4:45am I want to be with somebody again. I'm happy when a piece of me is engaged in some intimacy greater than what I feel now. But I don't want to just have something because I want it. I want it to develop naturally as it should. No "just add water."
I downloaded DivX viewing codecs. :-)
I see the psycho doctor in a week. It's a brief 15 minute "touch base" session to see how the meds are. Having been on them now for 41 days... nothing really. I want to discuss alternatives. I feel dark still. My mind isn't striving for more than right now, today's dirt, this thought. I want to make plans.
4:45am I want to be with somebody again. I'm happy when a piece of me is engaged in some intimacy greater than what I feel now. But I don't want to just have something because I want it. I want it to develop naturally as it should. No "just add water."
Monday, June 09, 2003
Reading Between The Lines
3:30am It's officially started...my new work schedule. I'm one hour into my shift and all is quiet--as I remember it being Sunday nights going into Monday morning. Work upgraded everyone's computers, monitors & keyboards. It's much easier to type fast on this keyboard and I love it... like ideas can get out of my head faster; no limitations of physical reality.
So how do I feel? I forced myself to stay awake Sunday until 7am. Then I forced myself to keep going back to sleep during the day as I woke up several times. Tricking the body out of it's natural sleep pattern isn't fun. I'm wide awake now--so far, so good. I feel as if I haven't written an entry for some time. So much was packed into the tiny space of this last weekend that I didn't put any of it down. Now I have all this time and I'll let the seepage begin.
I have strep throat. Lovely. Good thing is that antibiotics started on Friday have already alleviated the pain and gland swelling so I know it's just seven more days until the little bacteria fuckers are dead.
Javier opted himself out of my life. My sister says not to feel bad about it because there are plenty of other people out there. The simple wisdom of being 15 again. She hasn't had her heart broken yet so her words are easy to speak. Perhaps this encounter was life's way of repeating the lesson that I haven't learned yet: Don't try and date anyone too young. Jake reminds me of that when I talk to him online. I think I've always done it because I use myself as the template of what I was like at a certain age and know that others can be too. It's rare, but it happens. It's rare. It's fucking rare.
I saw "The Italian Job" with Mark tonight. He told me earlier in the week that he and Randy had hung out. When he said it on the phone it was with some hesitation. I don't know if the two of them discussed not bringing it up to me or if they each individually decided that it wasn't something they wanted to talk about. To me, it doesn't matter. I just don't like to be in the dark about something. It makes it look worse than it may really be. If there is attraction between them... so be it. If there's not and there's a meeting of the minds... so be it. I have a knack for bringing together people and I suppose that's regardless of history. HISTORY... is where all of this anyway and after the Mother's Day brunch I really did clear anything lingering that weighted me down.
On Saturday, I had the opportunity to speak for PFLAG in front of a small group of people in the process of becoming foster parents. I arrived late due to not wanting to leave the comfort Shawn in my bed. So I walk in 15 minutes late to this extremely small group. There were as many panelists as there were parents in the room. This was not strictly about being gay, so the panelists were from different ethnic minorities and social workers themselves. I was the only gay person there. In this forum, there was a lot of focus on the types of kids that would be placed in foster care; the majority being neglected or abused. In telling my "coming out" story to high schools and colleges, I skip over my home life a lot because it's not always relevant to the topic at hand, but here it seemed particularly relevant. For the first time in a group of people I related my coming of age. I talked about my relationship with my mom during junior high and high school, with Ruben and the struggle of being powerless and feeling helpless. I realized just after speaking how much it hurts sometimes to still think about it. I wanted the foster parents to understand the feelings that may not be outwardly expressed by a child who has been abused that comes into their care. They will want to trust and feel loved but will have the experience of having the ones that they want love from the most betray them or hurt them. A couple of times I remember as I was speaking that the emotion was so overwhelming to me that I lost my train of thought and started talking more because I was nervous. Why do I speak for PFLAG? Why is it important? It's important because we still have teenagers killing themselves rather than being able to accept who they are. It's important for me to volunteer my time with youth coordinated events because---as I realized and felt for the first time Saturday---the stuff of my past will forever be worked out and coped with in ways that I find in helping others find shelter from their own haunting pasts. Strangely, my mother called and left a message during the time I was speaking.
Pasts. Who knew that the things of our youth would be so important and so trivial at the time. Chuck is one of my dearest friends, but when I see him with relationships, I think of Nathan with his mom. (I'm sure the argument could be made about me and my relationships too, but different issues) Identity. I keep a card that Chuck gave me for my birthday one year as a sort of IOU for a vacation trip. I hope that someday I'll be able to use it, but I'm waiting for him to meet someone that he can last with so that I can break them up. (Okay, that last sentence was a joke--it's the stuff that goes through my mind when in person my lips speak something else. You'd never know.) I want him to lose this need to control everything. He's come so far in the last seven years, but the core is still there. It's that core that ends up rubbing people into confrontation---as if he knows no love without it. As I held Edwin in my arms and he cried over the loss, I felt my internal vibe go crazy. Wires crossed. Drunken minds wandering. I could feel how much he loves Chuck and I know how much Chuck loves him. I know that the truth in this situation was the only thing that gave me patience to put up with it Friday Night.
5:22am Been working while writing. People can be such gems to talk to. Soon the sun will rise and I'll watch the overcast grayness be illuminated. What a really piss-ass ugly week it's been. Haha... "piss-ass".... oh.. making that word up made me think of Javier and his niece saying "Fuck Ass," making fun of his sister saying it. How can someone I knew so little of effect me like this?
I got to see Bobby on Saturday night. He and Joey came down and went with Chuck, Ken and I to a party in Laguna Hills. I knew they'd like to see the house. I had seen it once before. Quite remarkable. The view from the back patio would be awesome on a clear day. You could see downtown Laguna, the ocean and probably all the way out to Catalina.
6:24am I'm yawning now. 4 1/2 hours to go. Art came home from Orlando and we had some time to exchange stories of our weeks. It was good to see a smile on his face.
So how do I feel? I forced myself to stay awake Sunday until 7am. Then I forced myself to keep going back to sleep during the day as I woke up several times. Tricking the body out of it's natural sleep pattern isn't fun. I'm wide awake now--so far, so good. I feel as if I haven't written an entry for some time. So much was packed into the tiny space of this last weekend that I didn't put any of it down. Now I have all this time and I'll let the seepage begin.
I have strep throat. Lovely. Good thing is that antibiotics started on Friday have already alleviated the pain and gland swelling so I know it's just seven more days until the little bacteria fuckers are dead.
Javier opted himself out of my life. My sister says not to feel bad about it because there are plenty of other people out there. The simple wisdom of being 15 again. She hasn't had her heart broken yet so her words are easy to speak. Perhaps this encounter was life's way of repeating the lesson that I haven't learned yet: Don't try and date anyone too young. Jake reminds me of that when I talk to him online. I think I've always done it because I use myself as the template of what I was like at a certain age and know that others can be too. It's rare, but it happens. It's rare. It's fucking rare.
I saw "The Italian Job" with Mark tonight. He told me earlier in the week that he and Randy had hung out. When he said it on the phone it was with some hesitation. I don't know if the two of them discussed not bringing it up to me or if they each individually decided that it wasn't something they wanted to talk about. To me, it doesn't matter. I just don't like to be in the dark about something. It makes it look worse than it may really be. If there is attraction between them... so be it. If there's not and there's a meeting of the minds... so be it. I have a knack for bringing together people and I suppose that's regardless of history. HISTORY... is where all of this anyway and after the Mother's Day brunch I really did clear anything lingering that weighted me down.
On Saturday, I had the opportunity to speak for PFLAG in front of a small group of people in the process of becoming foster parents. I arrived late due to not wanting to leave the comfort Shawn in my bed. So I walk in 15 minutes late to this extremely small group. There were as many panelists as there were parents in the room. This was not strictly about being gay, so the panelists were from different ethnic minorities and social workers themselves. I was the only gay person there. In this forum, there was a lot of focus on the types of kids that would be placed in foster care; the majority being neglected or abused. In telling my "coming out" story to high schools and colleges, I skip over my home life a lot because it's not always relevant to the topic at hand, but here it seemed particularly relevant. For the first time in a group of people I related my coming of age. I talked about my relationship with my mom during junior high and high school, with Ruben and the struggle of being powerless and feeling helpless. I realized just after speaking how much it hurts sometimes to still think about it. I wanted the foster parents to understand the feelings that may not be outwardly expressed by a child who has been abused that comes into their care. They will want to trust and feel loved but will have the experience of having the ones that they want love from the most betray them or hurt them. A couple of times I remember as I was speaking that the emotion was so overwhelming to me that I lost my train of thought and started talking more because I was nervous. Why do I speak for PFLAG? Why is it important? It's important because we still have teenagers killing themselves rather than being able to accept who they are. It's important for me to volunteer my time with youth coordinated events because---as I realized and felt for the first time Saturday---the stuff of my past will forever be worked out and coped with in ways that I find in helping others find shelter from their own haunting pasts. Strangely, my mother called and left a message during the time I was speaking.
Pasts. Who knew that the things of our youth would be so important and so trivial at the time. Chuck is one of my dearest friends, but when I see him with relationships, I think of Nathan with his mom. (I'm sure the argument could be made about me and my relationships too, but different issues) Identity. I keep a card that Chuck gave me for my birthday one year as a sort of IOU for a vacation trip. I hope that someday I'll be able to use it, but I'm waiting for him to meet someone that he can last with so that I can break them up. (Okay, that last sentence was a joke--it's the stuff that goes through my mind when in person my lips speak something else. You'd never know.) I want him to lose this need to control everything. He's come so far in the last seven years, but the core is still there. It's that core that ends up rubbing people into confrontation---as if he knows no love without it. As I held Edwin in my arms and he cried over the loss, I felt my internal vibe go crazy. Wires crossed. Drunken minds wandering. I could feel how much he loves Chuck and I know how much Chuck loves him. I know that the truth in this situation was the only thing that gave me patience to put up with it Friday Night.
5:22am Been working while writing. People can be such gems to talk to. Soon the sun will rise and I'll watch the overcast grayness be illuminated. What a really piss-ass ugly week it's been. Haha... "piss-ass".... oh.. making that word up made me think of Javier and his niece saying "Fuck Ass," making fun of his sister saying it. How can someone I knew so little of effect me like this?
I got to see Bobby on Saturday night. He and Joey came down and went with Chuck, Ken and I to a party in Laguna Hills. I knew they'd like to see the house. I had seen it once before. Quite remarkable. The view from the back patio would be awesome on a clear day. You could see downtown Laguna, the ocean and probably all the way out to Catalina.
6:24am I'm yawning now. 4 1/2 hours to go. Art came home from Orlando and we had some time to exchange stories of our weeks. It was good to see a smile on his face.
Friday, June 06, 2003
Not on an empty stomach
2:15am
"His wicked sense of humor suggests exciting sex."
-Venus As A Boy by Bjork
That song begins as "Deep Inside of You" by Third Eye Blind finishes. I re-read my IM conversation with Javier to get a feel of the conversation without the initial emotion of the moment. It's true that I lose a lot to those moments. Details. I hone in on the emotion... but that's hard to do with words on a screen. Ironic that I should have such an online "life" but only have the gift of sensing when in the presence of another. One always learns though... and I've learned over the years to "read into" some words as need be and appropriate. I really said some things that I see as being honest and open, but from the responses I think that this was missed. But I also see that I never acknowledged what he was typing in whole. I stayed fast to what I wanted to express even though I could see the words, I could not hear the tone. I so wanted to.... aye. This communicating stuff takes time.
9:30am
All the things I have no cares of consume the air we breathe and I know that I will always be aggravated so long as I try to care for that which I do not.
I'm waiting for my prescription and I can hear a three year old girl named, Cheyenne, screaming down the hall as she is being held down to have her blood drawn. When I was standing by her father earlier, he remarked to the receptionist, "Can I trade places with someone else right now?" At the time I thought it was because of his own fears, but now I really know.
Up, showered, two loads of laundry and a doctor's appointment out of the way all before 10am. I feel like a "Go Army" commercial. "We do more before 6am than most people do all day." Being up early makes me think of Javier. Dumb brain. It's like it knows a lot more than it will tell me. (De-programming it is such a long process. First to understand the code, then to understand how to re-write it without altering the construction.)
"His wicked sense of humor suggests exciting sex."
-Venus As A Boy by Bjork
That song begins as "Deep Inside of You" by Third Eye Blind finishes. I re-read my IM conversation with Javier to get a feel of the conversation without the initial emotion of the moment. It's true that I lose a lot to those moments. Details. I hone in on the emotion... but that's hard to do with words on a screen. Ironic that I should have such an online "life" but only have the gift of sensing when in the presence of another. One always learns though... and I've learned over the years to "read into" some words as need be and appropriate. I really said some things that I see as being honest and open, but from the responses I think that this was missed. But I also see that I never acknowledged what he was typing in whole. I stayed fast to what I wanted to express even though I could see the words, I could not hear the tone. I so wanted to.... aye. This communicating stuff takes time.
9:30am
All the things I have no cares of consume the air we breathe and I know that I will always be aggravated so long as I try to care for that which I do not.
I'm waiting for my prescription and I can hear a three year old girl named, Cheyenne, screaming down the hall as she is being held down to have her blood drawn. When I was standing by her father earlier, he remarked to the receptionist, "Can I trade places with someone else right now?" At the time I thought it was because of his own fears, but now I really know.
Up, showered, two loads of laundry and a doctor's appointment out of the way all before 10am. I feel like a "Go Army" commercial. "We do more before 6am than most people do all day." Being up early makes me think of Javier. Dumb brain. It's like it knows a lot more than it will tell me. (De-programming it is such a long process. First to understand the code, then to understand how to re-write it without altering the construction.)
Thursday, June 05, 2003
Close open. Close open.
10:26pm WOrking. More laundry on my mind when I get home. Vegetables and ranch dip. Water.
Arturo has vacation time in July and wants to do a road trip to San Francisco. July 7th to the 11th. I checked the vacation planner and the 7th an the 11th are blacked out booked up already. I'm hoping there isn't much of a wait list because that would be a fun trip. I could use one of the days as an ESN if I had to.... but it's the group drive that really makes the fun.
As much as two people may want to communicate, it really is incumbent upon them both to make an effort. They are only as strong as the weakest link. I've always been the one who doesn't want to talk or who keeps closed. It's weird being on the other side.
Arturo has vacation time in July and wants to do a road trip to San Francisco. July 7th to the 11th. I checked the vacation planner and the 7th an the 11th are blacked out booked up already. I'm hoping there isn't much of a wait list because that would be a fun trip. I could use one of the days as an ESN if I had to.... but it's the group drive that really makes the fun.
As much as two people may want to communicate, it really is incumbent upon them both to make an effort. They are only as strong as the weakest link. I've always been the one who doesn't want to talk or who keeps closed. It's weird being on the other side.
Colors Of The Wind
9:28am Maybe I'm like the birds. Sunlight has always brought me out of sleep as well. (Unless I'm at the beach where I'm perfectly happy to fall alseep in it)
Javier IM'ed me last night. I remarked to Ken, "Intellectually & logically I look at situations and know with perfect surgical precision what the answers are. But humanistically, my emotions are so entrenched with situations that I forgo logic most of the time." His response: "Fuck Logic." Haha. Yeah, I usually do.
I had these dreams that I remember impressions about. I know that there were at least three distinctly different situations. I remember that people were telling me how much more direct I've become. Now I need to decide whether this is true or whether it was my subconscious suggesting a course of action. The conversation with Javier made me feel vulnerable, but I wanted that in front of him.
Speaking in front of the Police Academy yesterday was okay. I would have to say that the highlight was getting to speak with Veronica again. She and I met at the training for new speakers a while back. She was once a man. Ooooh... I just remembered that I told her I would record "Soldier's Girl" on Showtime so that she could keep it at The Center as a resource. Must find out when that will be on.
I've been catching up on my Stargate SG-1 by watching re-runs at 1am. My mom was telling me that her boyfriend, Jim, watches a bunch of sci-fi as well. Hehe...a man I can relate with.
I am both too old and too young.
Javier IM'ed me last night. I remarked to Ken, "Intellectually & logically I look at situations and know with perfect surgical precision what the answers are. But humanistically, my emotions are so entrenched with situations that I forgo logic most of the time." His response: "Fuck Logic." Haha. Yeah, I usually do.
I had these dreams that I remember impressions about. I know that there were at least three distinctly different situations. I remember that people were telling me how much more direct I've become. Now I need to decide whether this is true or whether it was my subconscious suggesting a course of action. The conversation with Javier made me feel vulnerable, but I wanted that in front of him.
Speaking in front of the Police Academy yesterday was okay. I would have to say that the highlight was getting to speak with Veronica again. She and I met at the training for new speakers a while back. She was once a man. Ooooh... I just remembered that I told her I would record "Soldier's Girl" on Showtime so that she could keep it at The Center as a resource. Must find out when that will be on.
I've been catching up on my Stargate SG-1 by watching re-runs at 1am. My mom was telling me that her boyfriend, Jim, watches a bunch of sci-fi as well. Hehe...a man I can relate with.
I am both too old and too young.
Wednesday, June 04, 2003
Of Love...
2:50am I wonder if gay boys today have romantic dreams of marrying other gay boys and taking their name. Huh? I remember always toying around with first, middle & last names when I would date someone.
I typed this to Charlie (Gage) in an IM: "I have these listening station size headphones on, listening to my dance music probably the equivalent to standing next to a speaker.... and yet the house is silent."
I need to be awake between 7-7:30am. Speaking for PFLAG in front of the Orange County Sheriff's Department. I read the list of questions that they are likely (required) to ask us as. I feel out of touch with "being gay." What does that mean exactly? It means that when I was younger I believed in being much more a part of the the community in ways that surrounded me with other gay people and also worked to help my peers and kids less fortunate than myself to feel accepted.
((time lapse...)) As I drifted into my own head, I was picturing this teacher character who was also the soccer coach; gay. Senior student who has a crush on him. Teacher knows it, but knows that he can't do anything, however, they become close...almost friend like. To the point where the kid is staying after practice and hanging out in the lockerroom office with the coach talking. Another kid on the team wants the coach's kid, but can see that he's not interested because of the crush. A jealousy grows. The one kid starts a rumor that the coach is doing the other kid. Drama. Administration gets involved. Parents. While in court, several different testimonies are presented about what was supposedly "witnessed" but in reality they are all made up stories by friends of the one kid who is jealous. Graphic stories. If it were a movie, as the stories began (toward the end of the movie) the camera would fade into their stories--soft porn. And finally, when the coach testifies, after hearing all of the things he supposedly did, it's almost as if he believes it himself because the reality is that he has vividly dreamt of everything that was spoken of. He truly loved the student on many levels, but that love would never be realized in any world.
Wow.... it took me a lot longer to type all that out than it did to daydream it.
My mind does that all the time. I RARELY capture in writing the little sidewalks that my mind walks down everyday. How could I? How could anyone? I guess some people do. My mind could be thinking about a story then flash to the laundry I have to do then flash to making plans for the future and then flash to something going on in one of my friend's lives then flash to the fact that this is a run-on sentence then flash to a sound that catches my ear in nature or in the office then think about what I want to eat then flash to sexual fantasies then flash to longing for a closer connection to....
My natural impatient side of wanting to know the universe thinks that I should talk and/or clarify with Randy & Rey. My "live & let live" free-spirited side thinks that sometimes life just happens and you accept that and don't need to talk it to death----LIKE POETRY. I read poems and take away a feeling. When you have to explicate each line of the poem, it no longer is a piece of art that initiates an emotion but some academic head masturbation that makes us feel better than apes.
...The lips of boys are writing lyrics on my tongue....
I had the longest conversation that I've ever had with my roommate, Sean. (The straight one) We talked of monogamy, sexual variety and if we thought one person would be "the one" for us forever. It was interesting getting to know him a bit more.
...And their precious eyes sing the words left by mine.
I typed this to Charlie (Gage) in an IM: "I have these listening station size headphones on, listening to my dance music probably the equivalent to standing next to a speaker.... and yet the house is silent."
I need to be awake between 7-7:30am. Speaking for PFLAG in front of the Orange County Sheriff's Department. I read the list of questions that they are likely (required) to ask us as. I feel out of touch with "being gay." What does that mean exactly? It means that when I was younger I believed in being much more a part of the the community in ways that surrounded me with other gay people and also worked to help my peers and kids less fortunate than myself to feel accepted.
((time lapse...)) As I drifted into my own head, I was picturing this teacher character who was also the soccer coach; gay. Senior student who has a crush on him. Teacher knows it, but knows that he can't do anything, however, they become close...almost friend like. To the point where the kid is staying after practice and hanging out in the lockerroom office with the coach talking. Another kid on the team wants the coach's kid, but can see that he's not interested because of the crush. A jealousy grows. The one kid starts a rumor that the coach is doing the other kid. Drama. Administration gets involved. Parents. While in court, several different testimonies are presented about what was supposedly "witnessed" but in reality they are all made up stories by friends of the one kid who is jealous. Graphic stories. If it were a movie, as the stories began (toward the end of the movie) the camera would fade into their stories--soft porn. And finally, when the coach testifies, after hearing all of the things he supposedly did, it's almost as if he believes it himself because the reality is that he has vividly dreamt of everything that was spoken of. He truly loved the student on many levels, but that love would never be realized in any world.
Wow.... it took me a lot longer to type all that out than it did to daydream it.
My mind does that all the time. I RARELY capture in writing the little sidewalks that my mind walks down everyday. How could I? How could anyone? I guess some people do. My mind could be thinking about a story then flash to the laundry I have to do then flash to making plans for the future and then flash to something going on in one of my friend's lives then flash to the fact that this is a run-on sentence then flash to a sound that catches my ear in nature or in the office then think about what I want to eat then flash to sexual fantasies then flash to longing for a closer connection to....
My natural impatient side of wanting to know the universe thinks that I should talk and/or clarify with Randy & Rey. My "live & let live" free-spirited side thinks that sometimes life just happens and you accept that and don't need to talk it to death----LIKE POETRY. I read poems and take away a feeling. When you have to explicate each line of the poem, it no longer is a piece of art that initiates an emotion but some academic head masturbation that makes us feel better than apes.
...The lips of boys are writing lyrics on my tongue....
I had the longest conversation that I've ever had with my roommate, Sean. (The straight one) We talked of monogamy, sexual variety and if we thought one person would be "the one" for us forever. It was interesting getting to know him a bit more.
...And their precious eyes sing the words left by mine.
Tuesday, June 03, 2003
What if i rented myself?
3:30am I saw "Bruce Almighty" with Cheddy. On the way over to their place I stopped by Cardwell's to find him watching the Golden Girls special with Michael, JD, Linda & JD's sister.
I played the X-box for the first time--ever so briefly. I haven't played any type of video games since The Cube with Randy. I wonder if that's just a subconscious aversion. I toyed with the idea of getting some type of gaming device when I moved in here but I never did. I don't get out enough as it is.... it would be one more reason to stay in.
It's funny how there's always that one person in a relationship who decorates and keeps everything "in it's place." I've never seen any place that Chuck has lived as tidy or nice. Haha... Edwin keeps the place like I remember Jonathan keeping the apartment prior to Nathan moving in. I enjoyed playing with the cats.
I must become more organized. Daily focus. With school coming up I wont stand a chance in staying interested if I'm not focused.
"Human" by Dumonde.
Sometimes I just want to wake up.
I played the X-box for the first time--ever so briefly. I haven't played any type of video games since The Cube with Randy. I wonder if that's just a subconscious aversion. I toyed with the idea of getting some type of gaming device when I moved in here but I never did. I don't get out enough as it is.... it would be one more reason to stay in.
It's funny how there's always that one person in a relationship who decorates and keeps everything "in it's place." I've never seen any place that Chuck has lived as tidy or nice. Haha... Edwin keeps the place like I remember Jonathan keeping the apartment prior to Nathan moving in. I enjoyed playing with the cats.
I must become more organized. Daily focus. With school coming up I wont stand a chance in staying interested if I'm not focused.
"Human" by Dumonde.
Sometimes I just want to wake up.
Monday, June 02, 2003
All That Jazz
8:35am The birds wake me up. Something about the sun rising gets them squawking like gays gossiping on the outside patio of a party. It's way too early for me to be awake after being up until about 4am. I think my body knew I needed water. While I was up getting that I remembered that I hadn't cleaned and decided to get that out of the way before coming back upstairs. Clean what? Hmm... it occurs to me that I have a weekend to recap and I'm not sure what exactly I want to remember about it. This raises a bigger question in my head right now, "What is this journal for?"
I've always written. I've played with words. I remember being in 1st, 2nd, 3rd grade and writing little rhyming poems. Writing would grow in junior high school to become a source of recognition. Not only was I different from other kids in terms of what I knew but also in how I expressed it. Writing would become a source of sanity to cope in the form of a handwritten journal all through high school. So in thinking about what writing is for now, I think that it's part recognition, part sanity but also part posterity. When I'm 80, the ole brain wont fire up the same way it does now and what will be left of my life and why is that important? A legacy. Some people have children to carry that on for them. Others build dreams in businesses. We all play a part in interacting with others and that interaction shapes a memory that in turn is part of our legacy.
So what of this weekend? I've become increasingly aware of people reading this. ((No shit Jeremy the link is posted in your AOL profile)) I remember this happening a few years back and that knowledge creates a certain bias in how I relate information. Even if I say to myself, "Just type whatever." The reality is that my brain will concoct some way of filtering. Also... somewhat more moral questions come up. My life is mine to broadcast or not as I see fit, however, my life crosses the paths of others that I mention in my thoughts here in this journal. If I choose to write about any specific people and in turn relate aspects of their life, is it acceptable to do so without their permission? Do I need it? If these are just my personal thoughts on the matter does it matter? Does it boil down to what I'm saying about their life? What the subject matter is? How personal it is to them?
Hypothetical Scenario: I write about someone. They read it and then contact me and ask me to not write about their life so that others can read it. On the one hand I want to comply. On the other hand I now want to write about them contacting me and asking me not to write about them.
I've thought about changing names, but that's just cheesy and ultimately I am not writing fiction here. I am writing about my life and the people in it. Changing names or not mentioning them at all is just stupid. "Friend #1" and "Friend #2." Ahhh.. dumb I say.
There was an impromptu BBQ yesterday. Burgers, cards, friends, drinking and laughter. Oh...can't forget the Coldstone. I have some amazing people in my life. Sebastian continues to grow and become someone that I trust and look forward to seeing. He has a good soul. Smile. Chuck and Arturo always make me laugh. Individually, but even more so when they're together. They play off each other. It feels good to have them close to me because they were lessons in love that helped in who I am today. You never see that when you're going through a current relationship, but years down the road you can absolutely identify items of growth. If those people are still in your life, you also then have a reference of change. It's always sad to me when I lose that connection with an ex.
Enter Randy. We've been talking more lately. Sharing the daily things of life. Talking like friends. I've been wanting his input on situations because I know he knows me on a level that few do or ever can. He visited Saturday night. My arms are sore from supporting my body weight in the thrusting simulation of sex. I just realized right now as I'm typing this paragraph why I'm sore. Laughter. I paused just now for a few minutes.... I don't think I'm ready to write about this yet. I know my head was trying to process all day yesterday. I brought it up to friends. Quick flashes: okay, comforting, manipulation, want, drink, fun, smiles, memory, love, loss, eyes--seeing in. I'm glad that I don't feel sad about anything. No regrets. No longing. Maybe this stuff is really working.
I STAND CORRECTED. A few entries ago I typed about rules in relationships. Turns out Rey made the rule. My bad. Funny thing about rules. I'm a stickler about following them and at the same time I'll find any way to bend them. Any loophole to point out how flawed they may be. I'll even break them. Hahaha... sometimes. I suppose all things are a measure of the parts that make up the whole. There's always an affinity toward those who have jammed more experience into their years than is natural. Who is to say what natural is? I know. Experience teaches, but ultimately it's we who decide which lessons we learn. Reading this Danger Boy? hahahaha... There's this song that I was talking to Randy about and trying to recall for Rey. It's "All Hooked Up" by All Saints. The catch line for me in the song is, "I know you want a piece of my ass. Don't you know that a guy like you wouldn't last?" It's just a cool song to me. And so new connections begin to form.
I've been writing for almost an hour. That hardly ever happens. I do want to get some more sleep in now. The very thought produces a yawn. Damn birds are still chirping.
I've always written. I've played with words. I remember being in 1st, 2nd, 3rd grade and writing little rhyming poems. Writing would grow in junior high school to become a source of recognition. Not only was I different from other kids in terms of what I knew but also in how I expressed it. Writing would become a source of sanity to cope in the form of a handwritten journal all through high school. So in thinking about what writing is for now, I think that it's part recognition, part sanity but also part posterity. When I'm 80, the ole brain wont fire up the same way it does now and what will be left of my life and why is that important? A legacy. Some people have children to carry that on for them. Others build dreams in businesses. We all play a part in interacting with others and that interaction shapes a memory that in turn is part of our legacy.
So what of this weekend? I've become increasingly aware of people reading this. ((No shit Jeremy the link is posted in your AOL profile)) I remember this happening a few years back and that knowledge creates a certain bias in how I relate information. Even if I say to myself, "Just type whatever." The reality is that my brain will concoct some way of filtering. Also... somewhat more moral questions come up. My life is mine to broadcast or not as I see fit, however, my life crosses the paths of others that I mention in my thoughts here in this journal. If I choose to write about any specific people and in turn relate aspects of their life, is it acceptable to do so without their permission? Do I need it? If these are just my personal thoughts on the matter does it matter? Does it boil down to what I'm saying about their life? What the subject matter is? How personal it is to them?
Hypothetical Scenario: I write about someone. They read it and then contact me and ask me to not write about their life so that others can read it. On the one hand I want to comply. On the other hand I now want to write about them contacting me and asking me not to write about them.
I've thought about changing names, but that's just cheesy and ultimately I am not writing fiction here. I am writing about my life and the people in it. Changing names or not mentioning them at all is just stupid. "Friend #1" and "Friend #2." Ahhh.. dumb I say.
There was an impromptu BBQ yesterday. Burgers, cards, friends, drinking and laughter. Oh...can't forget the Coldstone. I have some amazing people in my life. Sebastian continues to grow and become someone that I trust and look forward to seeing. He has a good soul. Smile. Chuck and Arturo always make me laugh. Individually, but even more so when they're together. They play off each other. It feels good to have them close to me because they were lessons in love that helped in who I am today. You never see that when you're going through a current relationship, but years down the road you can absolutely identify items of growth. If those people are still in your life, you also then have a reference of change. It's always sad to me when I lose that connection with an ex.
Enter Randy. We've been talking more lately. Sharing the daily things of life. Talking like friends. I've been wanting his input on situations because I know he knows me on a level that few do or ever can. He visited Saturday night. My arms are sore from supporting my body weight in the thrusting simulation of sex. I just realized right now as I'm typing this paragraph why I'm sore. Laughter. I paused just now for a few minutes.... I don't think I'm ready to write about this yet. I know my head was trying to process all day yesterday. I brought it up to friends. Quick flashes: okay, comforting, manipulation, want, drink, fun, smiles, memory, love, loss, eyes--seeing in. I'm glad that I don't feel sad about anything. No regrets. No longing. Maybe this stuff is really working.
I STAND CORRECTED. A few entries ago I typed about rules in relationships. Turns out Rey made the rule. My bad. Funny thing about rules. I'm a stickler about following them and at the same time I'll find any way to bend them. Any loophole to point out how flawed they may be. I'll even break them. Hahaha... sometimes. I suppose all things are a measure of the parts that make up the whole. There's always an affinity toward those who have jammed more experience into their years than is natural. Who is to say what natural is? I know. Experience teaches, but ultimately it's we who decide which lessons we learn. Reading this Danger Boy? hahahaha... There's this song that I was talking to Randy about and trying to recall for Rey. It's "All Hooked Up" by All Saints. The catch line for me in the song is, "I know you want a piece of my ass. Don't you know that a guy like you wouldn't last?" It's just a cool song to me. And so new connections begin to form.
I've been writing for almost an hour. That hardly ever happens. I do want to get some more sleep in now. The very thought produces a yawn. Damn birds are still chirping.
