Vibrant.(Still) Unrepentant. Badass. Old. Queer

Mike forgot. They are going to a baseball game tonight. Mike was actually supposed to go as well. They bought a ticket for him. However, as I am so much cuter than his friends (and I put out), he is coming to my party! YAY! His friends are still going to the baseball game. Of course, now I should have plenty of food for all. Yay! And, Mike needs to learn to write things down. He seems a little forgetful. I wonder if it's an "academic" thing. The Fabulicious Cuzin's new husband is a teacher/PhD candidate and he is also a bit spacey. Maybe academics' brains are so full of thinky thoughts that the everyday things aren't processed?

BUT, I remembered the line of my high school's alma mater which I had forgotten ... North Forsyth High School (Winston-Salem, NC) Alma Mater North star whose flame burns Crimson, White, and Blue. From thy proud portals Light horizons new. Shine where thy children Serve and vigil keep. Kindle thy torch where (this was the bit I forgot) Hope lies fast asleep. You may now all fall on your knees and worship my excellent skills at remembering completely useless information!

As luck would have it, using my new punch bowl ( punch! ) will be the best thing about my party. Mike said yesterday that his friends who are visiting are actually staying two nights, not one. So, my cozy party of HOT GAY MEN and Tomoko has suddenly become a little more crowded party of HOT GAY MEN, Tomoko, and 3 Straight Texans. And, instead of a night of hot luvin', I'll be getting a night of tidying and washing up. FUN. *sigh* Mike owes me. BIG. I did get to see him briefly yesterday. He drove over to borrow my air mattress. Then, he drove me to Christal's condo to make sure it didn't flood in the recent (quoth Wonkette) "Rain of Terror." After that, he drove me to Whole Foods for party shopping. We got caught in a quick, weird thunderstorm - thunder! lightning! rain! brilliant sunshine! (what?) And, there was a rainbow. I like rainbows (and not only the gay ones). He came in for a bit. Looked at the place. Then left to get ready for his guest...

Tomorrow evening is my first ever Summer Buggin' Movie Party. I'm very excited. I'm expecting between 8-10 people (mostly HOT GAY MEN and Tomoko *woot*). The original plan was to watch the free showing of Mothra tonight at the Hirshhorn Museum. Then, the following night everyone would meet at my place for bug-themed movies. However, no one could make it to Mothra ... which is all well and good, because my home is nowhere near ready to have 8-10 mostly HOT GAY MEN and Tomoko traipsing about it. I must clean. I wanted to have a bug-theme going on at the party, but I looked all over for fun bug-related items. I didn't have much luck. Now, the only things buggy will be a) my eyes and b) the DVDs I've rented for the occassion - Wasp Woman (1959), Attack of the Killer (or is it Giant?) Leeches (1960), The Swarm (1978), and Mosquito (1994). Tomoko said she will bring THEM! The food is going to be a weird mish-mash of things: hummus and veggies and pita, liquid che...

... a shirtless man runs by. Maybe it was because it was the first sunny, non-torrential downpouring day in MONTHS? Maybe the humidity level was just right? Maybe Jupiter was aligned with Uranus? Not that it matters, but apparently yesterday was Official Hot Shirtless Men Run By VUBOQ Day! Woo Hoo! I noticed the first guy as I was walking back to my building from the dumpster - yes, I was looking all HOT, too ... sweaty, covered in yard-mowing grime. He was most likely Asian, shortish (maybe 5'9"), built, tattooed, and out for a jog. I nearly passed out. So hot. I had to stand in front of my a/c for a moment once I got back inside. About 30 minutes later, he runs by again (rear view! woo hoo!). Still hot. And sweatier. Mmm. As I'm eating my veggie burger dinner, casually staring out the window, another hot shirtless man walks by. He was taller, African-American, and very muscle-y - but not overly so. Just perfect. Aaah. Such a nice evening. Maybe it was my reward for mowi...

Last night, after mowing (*geh*) and laundry and eating and movie watching, I started going through some boxes. Guess what I found? My High School Class Ring! (pictured below) And guess what? It still fits. After nearly 20 years. (I graduated in 1988, meaning I got the ring either in late '86 or early '87.) So, in sudden spasm of geekiness, I decided to wear it today. I didn't particularly like high school all that much. I was a big nerd. I had some very good friends (but my best friend inexplicably decided to stop speaking to me our Senior year). I was involved in lots of after school activities. And (*sirens* whoop! whoop! Major Geek Alert!), I was the drum major for our marching band. *heh* When it came time to order class rings, and my friends were all selecting the $400 14k gold ones with genuine diamelles, my father said, "I'll pay for your class ring, but I'll be damned if I'm spending over $100." Thus, the ring you see pictured below is not 14k...

Here's the deal: I have $20 in Borders' Store Reward Certificates* burning a hole in my pocket. I want to buy a book (even though I have a stack of books on my bedside table that I'm still working on). I have no idea what I want to buy though. Thus, I am opening it up to YOU (yes, YOU!). Please leave a comment below with a book suggestion or two. My only requirements are that the books you suggest be available in hardcover, relatively recent, and around $20. I will more than likely be shopping during my afternoon break (at 3:30). To help get you started, here is a list of books I have read in the past few months (or am currently reading): ~The Weather Makers: How Man is Changing the Climate and What it Means for Life on Earth by Tim Flannery ~Field Notes from a Catastrophe: Man, Nature, and Climate Change by Elizabeth Kolbert ~Mao: The Unknown Story by Jung Chang and Jon Halliday ~Shakespeare: The Biography by Peter Ackroyd ~The Underminer: Or, the Best Friend Who Casual...

As I slip deeper into the Summer of my Discontent, I've noticed an increasing negativity in my thoughts. Last night, Mike and I were on the phone until about 1AM (I couldn't sleep). He was talking about his belief that we create our own realities shaped by our thoughts. When we think negative things, negative things happen. Conversely, positive thoughts create positive realities. It's all very Norman Vincent Peale . Although I do believe that our attitudes shape our being, I think this philosophy doesn't give randomness and chaos much sway. I realize that I only received a brief introduction into this way of thinking; however, I find it difficult to believe that John was cheating on me because a few times I thought that he could be cheating on me. Did my thoughts precede the action or vice versa? I don't believe that those thousands of people whose lives were destroyed by the tsunami two (?) years ago or by Hurricane Katrina last year were thinking negative t...

I think Donald Rumsfeld said it best when he opined, "there are known knowns. These are things we know that we know. There are known unknowns. That is to say, there are things that we know we don't know. But there are also unknown unknowns. There are things we don't know we don't know." The most blogalicious Sin has received a few warnings on his blog recently: He should be careful. He needs to beware the Ides of March ... er ... I mean, he needs to watch what he blogs, because he is not unknown ! AAAAH! RUN FOR THE HILLS! Sounds ominous, doesn't it? not unknown Ominous, yet, somehow thrilling, this not unknownness is. The danger is attractive. I, too, want to become not unknown . But, how? That's the question! There's the rub! HOW? How to remove the UN ? At first it seems simple, a few taps of the backspace key, but, Jesse Helms tried for years and the UN is still in New York City. Gigantic bureaucratic organization that it is. Full of ...

This morning on WAMU's Metro Connection , there was an article about DC's increased efforts to test all residents between the ages of 18 and 84 for HIV. Ambitious Plans for HIV Testing in DC You're on a metro train...there are about twenty other people with you in the car. Now consider this: if you're all DC residents, statistically, one of you is probably HIV positive. And, since we're throwing numbers around, there's about a 25 percent chance that person doesn't know it. Next week, DC's HIV Administration will launch a campaign to get every 18-to-84-year old in the District tested for HIV by the end of the year. New testing technology is supposed to be able to make this possible but it also raises questions about how patients will be supported when testing gets faster and becomes routine. Before the new system kicks in, WAMU's Sidsel Overgaard went to get tested herself to find out more about the patient experience. Listen to the report here: Windo...

Yes, another Meat-Free Monday has come and gone ... This time, I was so unmotivated, my Meat-Free meal was my leftover Veggie Delite sub from Subway. Meat-Free , for sure, but not really worth mentioning. I did have a martini (yay!), which, in case you didn't know, is also Meat-Free and was probably the best part of my meal. Yum. At least Only Me made some effort this week :-) *meat-free smooches* for him! In other exciting news, Sligo Creek flooded again last night and we're supposed to get more rain today. Fun. It's my turn to mow the yard. If this rain keeps up, I may need to plow it instead. Make hay while the sun shines sort of thing. Mike called last night. Yay. I watched a Japanese movie, Taboo . I knitted. I am *so* hating this entry. I'm going to have to post something better later.

I went to bed early last night (like 9:30). After the late night weekend activities (*rowr*) and the stress of death, I could barely keep my eyes open. Suddenly, I heard a woman yelling, "HELP!" I checked the clock, 10:30. I found my glasses and looked out, but I didn't see anything except the rain and the lightning. Then, I looked left towards Sligo Creek Parkway. It was flowing rapidly, but cars on Wayne Avenue were still sloshing their way across (apparently their drivers missed the class where the instructor tells them not to drive across a flooded road). In the middle of the road sat one car, stationary, hazard lights blinking. Then, I heard someone knock on my neighbor's door. "May I use your phone?" "Of course. Just one minute." That must have been the woman I heard screaming for help. I watched the river flow and the police come and the buses turn around. Cars wandered aimlessly, like forlorn farm animals cut off from the barn. ...

My emotional rollercoaster of a summer continues to swoop and dive with dizzying speed. After a brilliant weekend, highlighted by delicious home-made veggie burgers at Billy 's and two nights of fun at Mike's, last night I learned that my best friend's father died on Saturday night. Interestingly, one of the conversations at Billy's house had been on the difficulty of maintaining friendships over time. I met Isa on my first day as a freshman at Elon College (now University). We have been friends ever since, majoring in the same subject (Science Education) and suffering through a couple of unpleasant years teaching in the North Carolina Public School System. As the years passed and I lost contact with many good friends, only Isa (and one other college friend) and I managed to stay in contact. Even spending nearly 4 years abroad in the days before email was commonplace did nothing to weaken our friendship. As the rain came down in torrents last night and the lightning fla...

I'm wearing a black t-shirt today. I don't wear black all that often. It doesn't compliment my coloring at all. However, some of you may remember my Roommate from Hell experience a few years ago (or was that before I started journaling?). When he disappeared, he left some clothes, including this really soft black t-shirt. After all the shit he put me through, I had no problem keeping some of his nicer clothes. Anyway, as I was walking to get my lunch this afternoon (grilled veggie burrito with black beans from Baja Fresh. $5.20), I looked at my reflection (as the narcissistic among us are wont to do) and suddenly remembered this story ... In 1983, my older brother (then 15) went to see Styx in concert. I believe it was the Kilroy Was Here tour (y'know - Domo Arigato, Mr. Roboto ?). When he got home from the concert, he was talking to our parents and he showed them what he had bought: a black t-shirt! My parents freaked . "How could you buy a black t-shi...

I got this link off of Gene Weingarten's WaPo chat update this morning. The game is friggin' addictive and I completely suck at it, but I can't stop playing: Parking Perfection Give it a try. I can't make it past the third level. Of course, I also don't drive, which puts me at a disadvantage. Right? Right? Meanwhile, back at the Ranch, as it turns out, I will be headed out this evening. I'm meeting Robert (and possibly others?) for Happy Hour at Halo (2!4!1! Watermelon! Margaritas!). Mike can't go, so I guess I'll have to hook up with someone else. *heh*

Have I mentioned how much I like bed? Bed. Good. Being in bed. Good. Alone. With someone. With my psychokitty. It's all good. I like bed. Mmmm. Bed. I could be in bed right now and I would be happy. Not that I'm particularly unhappy . But, I was thinking about my weekend plans and how a weekend in bed sounded really lovely ... especially since my social calendar is not overly full. I have no plans tonight. Yet. Maybe I'll stay home, make a nice dinner, pop some popcorn, and watch a DVD or two. Or, maybe someone will call or email or IM with an idea for a night out. We'll see... Tomorrow, I must do some pretty hardcore apartment cleaning. Then, in the evening, Billy is having some people over for veggie burgers. After that, I may go over to Mike's house for his roommate's going away party. Odd going to the going away party for someone I've only met once (briefly at Pride), although, according to Mike, he saw me naked one morning on my way...

I learned two very important work-related lessons yesterday: 1. Even though my co-worker's work-visa disaster was not my fault and did not affect me in any way whatsoever, I learned that one should keep a written record of every phone conversation, save every single email ever sent and received, and -at all costs- trust my company's HR department about as far as I can throw them. 2. I also learned that when hiring a new employee and vociferously advocating to your direct superviser for the cuter of two applicants one should always make sure that the cuter of the two applicants has the English skills, especially writing skills, necessary for successful completion of all assigned tasks. Otherwise, it's just more work for me. GAH.

WAM! was a brilliant success last night. The weather was perfect, cooling off slowly as the sun went down. We had a small group (5 people), but sometimes that's better than a larger one ... everyone gets to talk to everyone and fun is had by all. After the first rather disappointing pitcher, Robert asked the waitress if we could have the next one with "a little less mix, please." The waitress looked confused, so Mike explained, "More tequila!" "OH! Of course," she said and scurried off. Robert looked at Mike, "I was trying to be subtle ." Whatever. The next two pitchers were fantastic. YUM! And, I know what some of you are thinking ... 5 people and only 3 pitchers. I know. I know. It's disgraceful, but it was a school night. I *think* (time is a little fuzzy after the second pitcher) we left around 9:30 or 10. Darryl met some guy for a date. Robert decided to walk home, and Tomoko, Mike and I went to the metro station. Somehow...

Did I mention that I am developing a major boycrush on a certain someone? *sigh* And that he's coming to WAM:SSE tonight? *SIGH*

Happy First Day of Summer, Everyone! Woo Hooo!!! Even though I love the Summer Solstice, my feelings are always tinged with sadness. From this point on, the days start getting shorter. *sigh* Winter is right around the corner. However, the important thing is that we make like the grasshopper and PLAY PLAY PLAY! So, I give you WAM:SSE (Wednesday After-work Margaritas: Summer Solstice Edition)!!! Join me and my friends in partaking of pitchers of liquid sunshine (on the rocks. with salt. except you, GayProf - you can leave off the salt and I'll still adore and worship you) after work today! Celebrate sunshine and Summer and fun and friends. You deserve it. We all deserve it. I'll be meeting my friends at 6:30ish. YAY! I can't wait. More later ... *many happy Summery smooches*

My fantabulous cousin [and her husband] sent me a thank you note yesterday for her [er ... their] wedding present. In it, she wrote, "I'm including this advertisement, which I see everywhere. You'll understand." I unfolded the paper and cracked up . The full page ad was for ... Apparently, it's some sort of Italian espresso and espresso machines. Illy is a word which, quite possibly, only my cousin and I still use frequently in conversation. Sad, isn't it? * Ague VUBOQ Bonus Points if you know what those words mean without clicking on the links.

Last night, for Meat-Free Monday, I had planned to make a red-skinned potato fritata with spinach and tomato and lots of parm. However, my apartment was hot. My tiny little a/c was pumping as hard as it could already. And, standing in a hot kitchen making a fritata was not appealing. Instead, I decided to make some sort of potato salad. Yes, it involves using the stove, but not for nearly as long. And, actually, if I had had the presence of mind, I could have nuked the damn taters. ANYWAY, I found a recipe for Southwestern Potato Salad and I had most of the ingredients. Here's what I did: Wash and quarter about a pound or so of baby red-skinned potatoes. In salted water, boil until tender (about 15 minutes or so). About 1 - 2 minutes before done, add a cup or so of fresh or frozen corn. Drain. Toss with approx. 1 tbsp olive oil and 1 cup(ish) salsa of your choice. Serve warm or room temperature. The recipe also called for 1/4 cup cilantro (which I didn't have) and 1 jalapeno, ...

GayProf over at Center of Gravitas seems to be a little upset that very few people have taken him up on his meme. Thus, in order to appease the GravitasGods, I have cobbled together the reasons for my adoration and worship of GayProf . 10 Reasons Why I Adore and Worship GayProf 10. He's currently stalking Al Gore. I'm currently stalking Al Gore, too!!!! How many ways do I love that man? Al Gore was the very first person I voted for in a Presidential Primary (North Carolina, 1988). I want him to run again. I want to volunteer for the Al Gore 2008 Election Team. I want to be named head of the EPA after he's elected! And, then, he can dump Tipper and we can live happily ever after. Yay! 9. He loves margaritas. On the rocks. With salt. I don't know if this is true or not, but I absolutely refuse to adore and worship anyone who doesn't love margaritas. On the rocks. With salt. Thus, since I adore and worship GayProf , he must love margaritas. On the rocks. With salt. ...

Sometimes I wonder how I ever accomplish anything at all. A behavior of mine I used to be very good at over-powering is starting to take control of my life. I've always been plagued by self-doubt and a lack of confidence in my abilities, but in the past I was fairly successful at pushing myself through these self-imposed barriers. But, recently (meaning in the past year or so), something has changed. Before I even try something new, I've talked myself out of it: Look! A cool job advertisement! What's the point? I won't get it. And -ugh- all those essay questions. There's a condo for sale! You should buy it! Eh. It's nice, but I can't afford it. And, it has probably sold already. [Fortunately, John pushed me on this one.] Hey! This guy is great! And he really likes you! And he is smart and funny and attractive! I know, but ... I'm too vulnerable right now. And I should be wary of rebound relationships. And he won't really like me once he gets to know ...

and not just because the Summer Solstice is right around the corner (yay!). John and I used to talk several times during the day, usually during my lunch and afternoon breaks. Even though he is a cheating cheater who cheated cheatfully, I miss the calls (and I miss him too) . They helped the day go by a little more quickly. With no John and several of my chatbuddies no longer able to chat, my work day drags even more slowly. Slower than molasses on a cold day. In February. In northern Canada.

The week before "The Unfortunate Event," John gave me a present - a beaded hemp choker. When I put it on, he said it looked OK, but it would look better by itself. "You shouldn't wear that other necklace, the one with the red cord, with it," he said. "But I can't take that one off," I replied. He sort of shrugged, but didn't press the issue. And I didn't explain the two reasons I can't take it off. The first is that the cord is knotted in the back and is too short to fit over my head. The second reason is a little longer ... I spent the turn of the millennium in Tiananmen Square, drinking pink champagne from the bottle with good friends and a few former students. [Then, we went back to the hotel and shot a bottle of tequila, but that's another story for another time.] The previous Spring I had taught conversational and business English at a small junior college, Kangpei, on the outskirts of Beijing. If I remember correctly, it was ...

Metro Center Train Change--You Getting On, Me Getting Off - m4m - 23 'nuff said.

Ah, Summer, when a young man's fancy turns to ... FREE MOVIES! Could there be anything better?!?!? Here's a sampling of some of the wonders DC has to offer this summer: At the Hirshhorn : PEST FEST !!! June 15: Them (1954) June 29: Mothra (1961) July 6: Beginning of the End (1957) On the Mall : Screen on the Green !!! July 17: The Day the Earth Stood Still (1951) July 24: The Band Wagon (1953) July 31: Bullitt (1968) Aug. 7: To Have and Have Not (1944) Aug. 17: Rocky (1976) At the Freer/Sackler Galleries : July 28 & 30: Happy Together August 4 & 6: Once Upon a Time in China August 18 & 20: Divergence (Aaron Kwok. Yum .) and much, much more ...

525,600 minutes, 525,000 moments so dear. 525,600 minutes - how do you measure, measure a year? In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights, in cups of coffee. In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife. In 525,600 minutes - how do you measure a year in the life? How about love? How about love? How about love? Measure in love. Seasons of love. Last night, after finishing my laundry (2 loads! Yay!), I popped Rent into the DVD player and settled down for a night of musical watching. And crying. Why didn't anyone tell me this movie musical was so friggin' depressing? I guess I should have figured it out when I read the plot summary on NetFlix, but still ... gah! ... I was bawling when Angel died. I bawled again when Mimi said she saw Angel. Stupid tear-jerker movie musical. Movie musicals are supposed to be full of sunshine and laughter. Sunshine! Laughter! Movie musicals are not supposed to make me cry, when I'm already feeling low. I re-ordered my NetFlix queue when John and I ...

One of my personal little traditions is to mark the end of each "relationship" with new shoes. There's something satisfying about it. Maybe it's the treating myself to something nice aspect. Or maybe it's the "haha, I just stepped in doggy poo in the [Whoever] Dumped Me Shoes" feeling I get whenever I step in doggy poo wearing [Whoever] Dumped Me Shoes. Whatever it is, I have new shoes! YAY! Yay for DSW being right around the corner from my office! Yay for credit cards! Yay for new shoes! I couldn't find a picture of the Calvin Klein Shoes ("Uriah"), but here are my comfy new "work" shoes:

from the fab Washington Post cartoonist, Richard Thompson (click to embiggen):

Is it something in the water? Or the weather? Yesterday, after work, I went to get a haircut. Leah, my wunnerful stylist, told me that she and her boyfriend of three years recently broke up. Then, I met my friend, Jerry, for dinner at Raku. He and his boyfriend of one year broke up a month ago, but had a big cathartic blow-up last Tuesday. Everytime I tell someone my tale of broken-hearted woe, they counter with "OMG, I know someone else who is going through the exact same thing ." Or, at least, they know a couple who recently split, but not because one of them was a cheating cheater who cheated cheatfully. It makes me wonder if there is something about this time of year which is more conducive to relationships ending. Couples pair off and cuddle through the long cold dark of Winter, frolic and mate in the Spring, and, when the warm Summer sun shines down, cheat, lie and break hearts. And the cycle starts anew. Could this seasonal disruption of love be because of our pri...

I was reading the comments over on GayProf's Blog earlier, and GayProf wrote that he and his lying ex (who told many lies) would have major arguments over public displays of affection. John and I never had major arguments over public displays of affection. He simply refused to do it. No hand-holding. No hugging. No kissing. No nothing. And, if I ever tried to take his hand or touch him in public, I would receive an angry stare and/or a nasty comment. One night, we were leaving the horrible little suburban gay bar in Wheaton, De Lounge. I was a little tipsy. As we walked through the parking lot to his car, I reached for his hand. He jerked it away. "You know I don't do that. We don't know anything about this neighborhood or what could happen if someone saw us." I didn't argue, but thought, "Um. We're leaving a gay bar. I think they know without the hand-holding." In the car, he continued to berate me about how he didn't do PDAs and why was I...

aka. John Hates Bleu Cheese Edition (bwa-ha-ha-ha-ha) I had planned to make some sort of red-skinned potato frittata last night, but, by the time I started wandering around the grocery store after work, I had no motivation to do anything that even resembled cooking. I ended up only buying garlic stuffed olives (Martini First!) and forgetting, yet again, to buy coffee. GAH! I walked home, sorted some laundry, played with my pussy, and mixed a martini. Dinner was (as photoed) an Amy's Organic Texas Veggie Burger [which seems kind of funny now that I think about it] with bleu cheese and spinach and a salad of spinach, diced tomatoes, bleu cheese, and balsamic vinegar. Thrown together in all of about 5 minutes. As I ate, I watched The Aristocrats , which, in retrospect, was not the best dinner and a movie choice. Fortunately, my years as a biology student/teacher gave me a pretty strong stomach. I mean, really, if you can discuss parasitic worms over breakfast, you can put up with abou...

I have heard that when some people go through a break-up, the first thing they do is have random meaningless sex with a stranger. NOT I! The first thing I do is get roaring drunk, then have possibly-not-meaningless "sex" with someone I know [If you're trying to guess who it is, I don't think I've blogged about him before ... hmm ... maybe in passing]. And, now, that I've piqued your interest, let's start from the very beginning. I've heard that it's the very best place to start. Friday, after work, I arranged to meet Robert and Tomoko at Halo for Happy Hour [2!4!1! Watermelon! Margaritas!]. As luck would have it, my friend, Darryl, and his friend/co-worker, Mike, could also join us. We all converged on the bar between 6:30 and 7. I have no idea how much we drank. I *think* I had *at least* three watermelon margaritas ... on an empty stomach. We, then, decided to stagger to Food Bar for dinner and ... you guessed it! ... margaritas! Darryl ha...

The only way I could get myself to stop crying last night was to take a picture. It's over. Everything happened pretty much as expected. The walk to his house from the metro station was difficult. My stomach was in knots. My knees were shaking. I felt weak. I rang the doorbell. He let me in. I gathered my stuff together (although I keep remembering things I've forgotten ... like my linen pants). Then, I went up to his home computer and erased all my files - mostly pictures. I left the pictures of Oscar on there though. I went downstairs and sat on the loveseat. He said, "Well, I guess you've made your decision." And, I said, "John, I just can't do it." And, then, I blabbed about all the stuff that I'd written yesterday about trust and how I didn't think I could ever trust him again and how I hated the distrustful person he was making me become. He said he understood. And, he talked some more, never looking at me, and his voice breaking. I sta...

My stomach is in knots. I couldn't eat lunch. I've had to pee, like, 6 times today already. At any moment, my head (and/or my bladder) could explode. About 2 hours until the Moment of Truth.

Exhibit A : I decide to break up with John. Exhibit B : Normally, after one of my relationships ends, I buy "My Relationship Has Ended Shoes." Exhibit C : The DSW two blocks from my office opens tomorrow . Chance? Fate? Alignment of the stars with Uranus? You be the judge. Meanwhile, back at the ranch ... Can anyone explain the difference between distrust and mistrus t? I've been using distrust but am no longer sure that's correct. Are they interchangeable? GAH! I can't even trust my own grammar anymore! Seriously though, Billy makes a good point [in the comment section of the previous post]. I was being a bit drama queenish when I wrote that I don't know if I'll ever be able to trust anyone again. The point is I trusted John, and he abused that trust. Now, I'm questioning my own judgement. If I mistakenly placed my trust in John, what will prevent me from making that same mistake again? I suppose it's more of a self-confidence issue than ...

This morning, as I left for work, I picked up my cellphone and BAM! a memory washed over me ... and my heart dropped. John's cellphone was ringing, but he was upstairs. I checked the caller ID, "Trent." "John, there's some guy, Trent, calling you," I said as I brought him his phone. "That's OK. I'll get it later." I think that was about 2 weeks ago. I'm not sure. And, then it hit me. Hard. I can't do it. I can't continue in a relationship with this man. Every call he gets. Every call of mine he doesn't answer. Every time he is late or doesn't meet a promise. I will think, "he's cheating on me." On Sunday evening, he said probably his greatest regret was that he may lose one of his only friends in the area. As I have reflected on it, my greatest regret is that his fucking around on me is turning me into someone I don't like, someone who is no longer trusting, someone who questions every past d...

Once again, instead of receiving instructions from the little voices in my head or the alien waves that make it through my aluminum foil helmet, I get advice from Honest Tea lids. Optimism can make you look stupid, but cynicism always makes you look cynical. -- Calum Fisher I have to remember that things will work out. Things will get better. As my fantabulicous cuzin wrote in an email on Monday, "Don’t despair! Either you’ll leave him and move on (and it’ll be ok eventually, I promise) and never have to deal with his craziness again, or you’ll stay together and build something new. So, it’s a terrible situation, it’s true, but in a freaky way, no matter what happens, you can’t lose. I know, I’m nuts." OK, everyone ... let's break for drinks... Make mine a Watermelon Margarita:

Yesterday, I couldn't bear the thought of sitting in my apartment staring at the walls until I fell asleep, so I arranged to meet Diablo for happy hour. The great thing about his new job is that we can meet at a reasonable hour for drinks, and I still get home at a decent time. We went to Halo and had watermelon margaritas (2-4-1! Yum!). Then, we went to Logan Tavern for dinner. I had a *new* drink, Lemonade Cooler, which was very refreshing, and two sides, broccoli and garlic mashed potatoes. For dessert, we split some sort of warm brownie thing and I had hot cocoa with peppermint schnapps. Surprisingly, I'm not hungover this morning. Odd. Anyway, it was good to talk about things with Diablo. On the way home, I called John. He didn't answer. Previously, I would have thought "he must have fallen asleep on the sofa" or "maybe he's in the hot tub." Last night, my first thought was " I wonder if he's fucking someone else ." He never retur...

This morning my living room was filled with rainbows. Many years ago, one of my Taiwanese students gave me these two gold guardian dogs atop cut crystal globes (about 1.5 inches in diameter). When the sun hits them the right way, I have a rainbow room. I snapped a quick picture and reflected on the symbolism ... The Bible uses the rainbow as a covenant between God and Noah to never flood the world again - rainbow as a promise. And, I suppose, rainbow as hope. My living room was filled with promise and hope this morning. I like that. Well, that and gay flags.

I'm having a very hard time organizing my thoughts. Am I being too easy on John? Am I too trusting? Too hopeful? Can a leopard change his spots? My head hurts from overthinking and trying not to cry at work (because, y'know, "crying is weak and men don't respect that"*). My jaw hurts because stress is making me clench . I'm teetering on the edge of becoming a mushy pile of goo at any moment. Just keeping myself whole seems really hard right now. And, yet, I remain a cockeyed optimist . GAH. *Actual quote from a telephone conversation with a friend last night.

Not having access to a computer at home means that my Meat-Free Monday post couldn't happen on Monday. And, of course, given all the recent drama, I actually didn't remember Meat-Free Monday until about 5:30PM yesterday. *smacks forehead* * Meat-Free smooches * to all who ate a meat-free meal yesterday! So, here's the picture: As I told Mush in a text message last night, it's basil, asiago, and pine nut pesto ravioli (frozen, from Whole Foods) on marinara sauce (from a jar) and my homemade heirloom tomato and cucumber salad. Not too shabby. The wine was yummy, btw. I drank the whole bottle and am a wee-bit over hung this morning. I need a smoothie. John and I had a long telephone conversation last night, where we talked about a lot of things in our relationship ... our expectations, what's right and what's wrong with it. I still don't know what I'm going to do, but my head seems clearer. And, (don't hate me), I'm seriously leaning toward...

Wearing a bright red shirt after a night of crying? Not a good idea.

Saturday night, I was at my friends' house for Movie Night. John and I had discussed the possibility of meeting up afterwards; however, around 10:44, he called to say that he was going to watch the rest of War of the Worlds and then go to bed. "Call me tomorrow when you get up, and I'll come pick you up," he said. Carolyn drove me home. Isabella started trying to wake me up at 8. At 9, she finally succeeded. Face-licking always works. I made some coffee, showered, ate, and called John at 10. No answer. I left a message, figuring he was still in bed. I ran some errands and cleaned. I called John at 11:30. Still no answer. He must be working outside and can't hear the phone ring. I knitted a bit. Cleaned some more. Made the salad for the potluck. I called again at 1:30. Still no answer. Should I be worried? Maybe he's sick. Or he dropped the 97 pound gazebo box [which he bought at Home Depot on Saturday morning] on his foot and is trapped on the...

As I was crossing the street (in the crosswalk), I saw the truck barreling towards me. In the split second it took me to make up my mind, I thought "I could keep walking. I have the right of way. But, hmm, they don't look like they have enough money to make it worth the time in the hospital." So, I stopped [in the middle of the street, mind you] and let them pass. Actually, this is the second time in recent memory that I have almost been hit by trucks driven by Latinos. The previous time, as I was crossing the street (in the crosswalk, with the little green man blinking), the man on the passenger side started yelling at me to get out of the way. Um. What? Perhaps, driving rules are different in their countries. Or maybe they picked up their mad driving skillz from the worst of our nation's drivers, VIRGINIANS! So here is a little reminder to all of you Car People out there: Pedestrians (me!) have the right of way. Please do not run us over when we are in the crosswal...

I have a fairly busy weekend planned, so there should be loads to blog about come Monday [ Come Monday, it'll be all right. Come Monday, I'll be holding you tight .. .]. After work today, John and I are heading down to Southeast DC for a house-warming/birthday party [Note to self: Buy housewarming/birthday presents today]. On Saturday, I would like to go to the National Building museum to see the exhibit on eco-buildings before it closes. I'm not sure if I'll have time, because I also need to run some errands in and around Silver Spring. Then, I'm heading to Kristen's in Alexandria for Movie Night. John was invited but, after hearing the possible movie selection, opted out. Maybe we can meet up at a club afterwards. On Sunday, my grad program alumni are having a potluck dinner at my advisor's house, which should be fun. I think I'm the only one from my cohort still in the area, but I'll be able to meet younger graduates at least. I think I will make...

It is not a good idea to sneeze with a mouth full of partially masticated peanuts.

Some of you who live in the DC Area may have seen this ad on the metro recently. It's a little shocking, no? I did a little research on ConsumerFreedom.com and, not surprisingly, it's a "non-profit" agency supported almost entirely by the food industry. Similar to the anti-Kyoto Protocol/Climate Change "non-profits" which were -and, in some cases, still are- backed solely by oil companies (I'm looking at you Exxon-Mobil). Obviously, Consumer Freedom is not exactly a reliable source of information. However, I found the quote by Ingrid Newkirk to be particularly disturbing, so I searched the PETA website for their response to this ad. There wasn't one. I emailed PETA yesterday and received their rather lengthy response this morning. The crux of which was ConsumerFreedom is bad and we were misquoted . I won't post the entire email here, but, if you'd like to read it, let me know and I'll forward the email to you.

If anyone from North Carolina's 13th District, specifically from Winston-Salem, reads this blog and you went to North Forsyth High School from 1984-88 and you vote for this idiot , I solemnly swear that I will never speak to you again . Take a listen to this ad: Click on Brad Miller's Mariachi Party . GAH! OH, but wait, I haven't spoken to anyone from my high school in ... um ... at least 10 years. ANYWAY, the point is, if you vote for someone who is so obviously filled with hate, then you pretty much deserve what you get. On to other things ... I seriously didn't know that this had happened ( 'Juan Valdez' Is Hanging Up His Poncho ) when I made this post . Honest. It was just perfect timing. Last night, John and I finally saw The Da Vinci Code . The reviews I read were pretty much dead on. Then, we had a disappointing meal at Austin Grill. Great evening.