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FACEBOOK STATUS: I just got used to girl friends changing their last names after getting married now he has to get used to bottoms doing it too.

Re-living The Reels

I'm very far away from all of the family that I have created over the years. With all of this time to reflect, I'm watching so many videos taken over the years but never edited or posted. I'm smiling and laughing but in the end it does make the isolation feel a tad bit further.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow. Tomorrow.
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A Time To Be

Sitting here with them... It reminds me how life used to be with friends sitting around for the weekly gathering; a time when the sense of belonging was more important than the individual lives and directions.

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Gaffney Bedding

I had a simple bed for many years. It was larger than full, but nowhere near a queen. The irregular size was due to it being a futon mattress. The mattress had a black, wooden frame that was raised about eighteen inches above the ground. The frame was bisected by a thin, but sturdy 3x2 piece of wood that touched end to end the length of the bed; several thin, wide slats laid across this piece of wood to run the bed's width supporting both me and the mattress. The bed was the perfect size for my body and the perfect height to collapse upon. Each night, it would absorb the weight of my days.


When you sat on the ground, the frame supported your back. You could be on the ground talking to someone sitting on the mattress and not feel like they were towering above you. There were no squeaky springs to make noise when you rolled over, got up, or made other movements.


I assembled and disassembled this bed each time I moved domiciles dating back to 1999 in Anaheim, CA where the bed was given to me by Johnathan Gaffney as he was moving out to live with a boyfriend in 1997. Surprisingly, I was able to keep an allen wrench & all of the peices to the bed in a zip-locked baggie without losing any pieces over the years. Ironically, it was moving on from my own relationship this last 2009 holiday season that I left the bed behind to end it's journey in Silverlake.


I learned yesterday that Johnathan is no longer with us. In many ways I think of him as my first little gay brother. I've recounted the story to a few people and written it down that my fondest memories of living with him were driving in his car up to West Hollywood and dancing until the house lights came up at Axis (now called The Factory). He may no longer be dancing among us, but he will always be dancing with us.


Johanthan...his smile was larger than full, but he was nowhere near a queen to me. Rest well my dear friend on the memories I'll keep of your bed.

I Want To Hold Your Hand

"I've been in love before...the hardest part is when you're in it."

I'm listening to the song by Cutting Crew. I don't know that the hardest part is when you're in it, unless you count the part where you're still in love but not together. That's the hardest part sometimes... the lingering. Then there's the hardest part of watching while one of you moves on and the other is still stuck. Stuck is such an ugly word choice; implying that there's something wrong for feeling. It feels wrong sometimes for the involved parties.

When you're in it...you learn the things about yourself that only another can trigger...not teach. You teach yourself if you choose to learn. That's truly being "in it."

Today/tonight seems to be one of those days where all song lyrics lead me back to lessons. Some learned, some still learning and still some just lost on me as I choose selective memories. By limiting my choices...I'm following what Frenchy said earlier tonight in IM:

nickoc86 7:27 pm
(7:28:11 PM): sometime its easier to make choices when there arent that many available
Earth Jeremy 7:28 pm
(7:28:30 PM): I'm quoting you on that.