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

I tend to think the best of people, even when they do bad things to me. Hell, I was mugged and I think "maybe he had his reasons ..." I forgive too easily. I try to focus on the good in people. Which gets me into trouble. As a former co-worker once said to me, "Sometimes people mistake kindness for weakness." Some of you may remember that I recently ran into John, the Cheating Cheater. Since then we have been in casual contact. I was thinking maybe we could rebuild some sort of friendly relationship. It's not like he's a bad guy. Sometimes he could be surprisingly sensitive. And he's funny. And he made me think about things in an entirely different way. Last night, we were supposed to meet up. He was going to pick my up at the Metro station near his house at around 7:30. I was running a little late ... 7:27PM: Me via text: "At Silver Spring Metro. There in about 10 min or so." No response. 7:34PM: I arrived at the Metro station and call...

At the mall at Pentagon City, quite unexpectedly, I ran into John. We hugged. He smelled good. He looked good. OMG. He looked great ... We didn't talk long. I got his phone number and made a promise to call. And all the feelings I had for him bubbled back to the surface. Since this afternoon, I've been playing back my decision to end it. Maybe I acted too hastily. Maybe I didn't think it through carefully enough. Maybe I over-reacted. Maybe I didn't. Maybe I made the right choice. It felt right at the time. If hindsight is 20/20, I think I need to see an optometrist. On the metro ride home, I realized that I've forgiven him. The hurt is gone ... or at least it seems to be. And, maybe, I dunno. Maybe we can forge some sort of friendship out of this mess. I don't want to be in a relationship with him again (for sure), but I miss him. The ache is still there. And, now, I'm off to cry myself to sleep ... sometimes that's a good thing to do.

Last night, I met up with a former co-worker and envirobuddy, Dana, for drinks at a new restaurant, Gallery. New restaurant. Old crowd. And, one of Dana's friends was not too pleasant to be around. It was a total blast catching up with Dana though ... Perhaps, a more interesting venue next time, D? After leaving Gallery, we headed over to the Whole Foods Plaza. Mmmm ... eggplant fries at Adega. And cute counter help. *giggle* Lots going on this weekend. Not only is today the one year anniversary of the breakup with the cheating cheater, BUT it is also Capitol Pride. *woot* Tonight, the kittens are gathering at Halo for happy hour [and might I add that I look particularly cute today]. Tomorrow, some of us are going with Mike to an afternoon Pre-Pride Parade Party and, then, staggering down the street to watch the parade. I don't have any plans for Sunday, but I'm fairly certain I will end up at the Street Festival at some point during the afternoon. Finally, to get everyone...

Last night, I had trouble sleeping. Among the tossing and the turning and the odd dreams about being in contestant's row on The Price Is Right (and why did I bid $2.89 on the jar of JIF peanut butter?), I had some disturbing dreams. First, I dreamed that my cat, Sherlock, who died in 1996ish (at the ripe old age of 14), was walking across my bed. GHOST CAT! Creepy. Then came the dreaded "there is someone else in the room" dream. Augh. I totally hate that dream. Needless to say, it freaked me out, and I had a hard time falling back asleep. It's times like this that I really hate sleeping alone. The odd thing is that I haven't had creepy dreams like that in quite some time. In fact, it was almost exactly one year ago today that they started happening on a frequent, recurring basis. Yes, today is the one year anniversary of my discovery of the Cheating Cheater's cheating . I'm going to try not to dwell on it too much this week, but forgive me in a...

But, not (too) queeny. The combination of heat and a skoosh too much booze last night has resulted in me being not well-rested and slightly headachy this morning. oog. I really should turn on the a/c, but I remembered that towards the end of the summer last year the Little Air Conditioner that Could nearly conked out, sending forth only moderately conditioned air (wash, rinse, repeat). I turned it on briefly two nights ago to make sure it was working. It was. Although, it did spew forth some lovely bits of black gunk. I haven't turned it on again, because I want my apartment to be cool for my It Was a Dark & Stormy Night party tonight. AND, I didn't want to risk the Little Air Conditioner that Could conking out prior to the party. See how I suffer for my friends? Meanwhile, last night, I watched the movie Kinky Boots , which I first saw on Tomokito's Netflix queue. I am not surprised she liked it - a movie about SHOES! and Drag Queens! What's not to love? ...

I have been misty-eyed and mopey all day. I'm beginning to wonder if it's just about learning of Oscar's death. Hidden away, I held this hope that John and I would eventually be on friendly terms. When that happened, we would get together every few weeks chatting about life and eating take-out Chinese, and I could visit with Oscar. Now, there isn't anything that ties me to John other than memories. All I have left is this aching empty feeling. Hope is the thing with feathers ... I really need to stop reopening old wounds.

Saturday night, or perhaps it was early Sunday morning, in a margarita-induced drunken stupor, I was online in a chatroom, saw John was online as well, so I sent him a short email. It was not much of anything, merely a "hi and I'm glad you are back and OK" kind of thing. I then passed out on my sofa. Sunday morning, I was v. overhung. Urgh. John had responded to my email, so I replied, closing with "If Oscar is there, please give him a big hug and squeeze from me." This morning, John replied to tell me that while he was in Iraq, Oscar had to be put down. He said he'd tell me the details when/if we met. I am sad. And, stupidly, I am feeling a little guilty, plagued by the What Ifs ... and, if you know me, you probably know what those are. Here's a photo of him in October 2005 (about 6 months old): Good-bye, Oscar.

Query: If one were to buy enough booze to fully stock a bar, what should one buy? Please leave your suggestions in the comments below. *love love smooch* By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes ... As some of you may know, I am a stats whore. I use both statcounter and sitemeter, and I check them frequently throughout the day (and night). Last night, I had a bit of a shock ... someone from DC found my blog by googling my supersecret identity . This mystery person then proceeded to read every entry I wrote during the Hell Week that ended with my breakup with John. This mystery person also uses the same internet provider as John. Was it John? I don't know. And the not-knowing has freaked me out a little. *[For full comedic effect, sing the title of this post as Denyce Graves would] [For full understanding of the title, you would have had to have been a counselor at NC Summer Ventures in Science and Mathematics at Appalachian State University in the Sum...

On Friday night, I had a weird dream. I dreamed about the Cheating Cheater who Cheated. He was teaching at a local college, and I met him one day after work. I had not seen him since we broke up. He was limping, because he had been wounded in Iraq. We went out to a bar, a straight bar and one in which he was a regular. And this is the weird part ... as we were sitting there on the bar stools, enjoying our drinks and chatting, he put his arm around me. Back when we were dating, one of the little things about John that irked me was that he was not one for public displays of affection ... even in the "safe" context of a gay area of town or a gay bar, he was never demonstrative. I guess I missed that.

All you need is a little mention from the Inventor of the Blogosphere , and the readers will beat a path to your blog. At least for one day ... Blog it, and they will come . Either that or catch your boyfriend of over a year sleeping around on you and dump the Cheating Cheater who Cheated Cheatfully . People like to read about that too. Meanwhile, I ate vegetarian corndogs for dinner last night. And green beans! It's all Mr. Sticky Crows' fault . His blog post started a craving. GayProf said there were vegetarian corndogs, which reminded me that Robert had also mentioned that to me awhile ago. So, after asking Robert the brand, off I went to Whole Foods where I purchased: Mmm. Corndogs. Not much going on today. I am going to go by the eye doctor's this morning (or afternoon) to check out their selection of eyewear. I received a Buy 1 Get 1 Free coupon in the mail, so, if I can find two pair I like, I will make an appointment. I'm thinking of maybe pale yellow frames? Or...

Two nights ago, when I was chatting with Sunday Date Guy, he asked, "What do you do? You have an artistic flair." I laughed ... And flashed back to my freshman year of high school, when I learned a new vocabulary word during the rehearsals for our high school production of Hello, Dolly! And, before you ask, no, I wasn't Dolly Levi. I was in the pit orchestra. *woot* Anyway, Dolly, played by the senior, Scarlet Morgan, who, in the early 90s rose to fame as Miss North Carolina , had a line describing Ernestina Money to Horace which is something like "She's very artistic." Every time Dolly said that line the director and orchestra conductor would laugh. "You need to enunciate more clearly, Scarlett," the director would call out. "It sounds like you are saying 'She's very autistic.'" Everyone would laugh, except the young 14-year-old Vuboq, who, in the days before Dustin Hoffman made autism a household word in Rain Man , h...