Friday, July 31, 2009

Every Day For A Month...

...some days it was certainly harder than other days, but I did it. I actually posted something here every day for a month.

Whether that momentum can--or shall--continue, I dunno.

I didn't get to bed till an ungodly hour last night. At the last minute I'd updated my Crackbook Status to say that I should go to sleep except I hated dreaming. Really I just hate sleeping alone period, but I won't QUITE advertise that lonely fact on FB. But really I hate dreaming. Cuz I end up dreaming about people and things I miss. And it's ironic that no sooner did my head hit the pillow I had one of those intense dreams I have sometimes.

One time I'd had a dream like this... really intense dream about Nene. At the time, there had been only flirtation and I woke up thinking how odd that I would dream about him, and that intensely. Later that day he'd texted me, and throughout a drawn-out text conversation it was revealed he'd dreamed about me too, and then we figured out that it was about the same time.

Last night, I dreamed about the Scrub. I found myself in the dream with him there, and I said to myself "I don't want to be here". It was as if I'd opened the door to a room and gone in, only to discover I was in the wrong room. You want to walk out, but someone sees you and forces you to stay. And that was what the dream felt like. We exchanged pleasantries in the dream, and then I sort of woke up. But I was annoyed with myself for having the dream.

At the same time I knew it was because I could feel his emotional turmoil. He's got a big event happening in his life which I may write about within the context of another post so as not to reveal his identity. So I know that, like wandering into a room in which I didn't want to be, he had seen me there and wanted me to stay a minute. What's happening to him breaks my heart, particularly since I saw it coming last summer and tried to warn him about it.

But I was still annoyed at myself for wandering into a dreamroom I didn't want to be in...

Today was the last day of the Sun's String camp. I took sandwiches and Gator Ade down to the Sun and his dad, meeting them in the park. We ate, then walked back to the Camp where the Sun was to have his last class with Mr. O'Connor himself. The class was packed, the room was hot. Mr. O'Connor taught a song that only the very advanced "intermediates" were able to keep up with. The Sun was quite lost, but he tried anyhow, and he stuck the class out. Others quit. The odd thing was I could feel that Mr. O'Connor felt ever so slightly bad that the tune was a little over every one's heads, and was also slightly surprised. I also decided I felt other things about him but overall he's a "true" heart and I like him very much, as a human soul.

Earlier, the Sun had informed me he'd signed up to play at the student concert. I was glad he did... and gladder still that he was excited about it. But as the moment approached I wondered if he'd have second thoughts. His Opus classmate, a tall sort-of-squishy but sweet kid of 17, hung out with us after the last class was finished, and helped the Sun to practice the piece he was to play. They also spent about a half hour on the piano in the room we were camped in, working on a riff that was incredibly beautiful. The Sun played the lower half of the keyboard, the kid the upper. It's too bad they were too young and inexperienced to not remember the notes or be able to write the music. Mind you, SD was still around. At one point he looked at me and said something to the effect that he finally realized how much this world, these feelings were "me", and familiar to me... and how different we actually were. I laughed... because it's true. We come from completely different places in life. All we ever had in common was the Sun.

And maybe that's the thing... we both needed the Sun in our lives and it was the sole and only purpose for us to be together. The one thing we had in common.

We moved down to the concert hall... and as we sat and people filed in, the Sun asked his friend to play with him. The kid had signed up to play the night before but had gotten bumped for time. As the evening progressed, and more and more "students" played I wondered if the Sun would actually go through with it. One of the "campers" turns out, was the youngest tenured violinist with the Boston Symphony. And it was obvious that many others were professional musicians.

One young girl got up and sang Coldplay's "Viva La Vida". She was awful... which wouldn't have meant anything except throughout the week she had proven herself to be exceedingly obnoxious, the kind of kid who spends FAR too much time around indulging adults and who thinks she's a little better than she is. The kind of kid that grows up to be a Madonna... not particularly talented but driven. But I could see the spark of confidence light up in the Sun and his friend, because they both knew that they would at least be slightly more accomplished than she.

And they were. The Sun's friend is a remarkable young man--exceedingly kind and devoid of ego. He had no problem playing "second fiddle" to the Sun, but in such a way as to be completely supportive and engaged. The Sun announced the song. The friend took the first bar, establishing the song. The Sun and he played the second bar. And then my little boy took the second section of the tune... he played clean, kept the rhythm, hit every note dead on. No squeaks... and the audience began to clap time. The Sun looked up startled, and smiled with pleasure... and kept right on playing. They finished the last bars together and the audience gave them a heartfelt and resounding round of applause.

SD positively beamed. And so did I... And even better... the Sun's new hero DBR even gave him an acknowledgment as he left.

The Sun stayed with his dad tonight, and I came on home... I'm so very proud of, and happy for, my little boy...

Thursday, July 30, 2009

Yet Another Time

...where ordinarily I wouldn't write except I am bound to, by that "write every day for a month" thing...

It's SD's birthday today...

I overslept and wouldn't have woke up except the Professor called to say she was stuck behind the bridge and that she was on the way to get Poppy's walker. I dressed in a hurry, as did the Sun and she nicely drove us into the City since she was going that way...

There was a great day of classes...

SD came by to see the Sun; he wanted to stay but couldn't find parking. He reached in his pocket and gave me $40. I really appreciated it cuz I sorely needed it and was debating asking him for $10...

After classes I dropped the Sun off with SD on the East Side and came home. A HS Peep came by and gave me a deposit for a job... enough for me to live on for a day or so. Man funds are tight...

My ankles ballooned in the humidity giving me quite a fright and made me feel old...

I cooked Tofu for CNC. It came out damn good...

I'm really disappointed in the Cricket... I'll get over it but damn...

...and last but hardly least, Poppy came home today. And they may have found an apartment everyone is happy with...

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Almost Over

....this writing every day thing.

It's quite a commitment. But I am learning some interesting things. Like there's stuff I want to write but it take more than a day to clarify it in my head... and then I get tired and realize I just have to write SOMETHING but I don't have the wherewithal to go in depth.

Today was an interesting day. I spent the day with the Sun in String Camp. First off... it's been an amazing opportunity, and there are some incredible artists in in the world. I am so very grateful the Sun got this opportunity. He really has gotten a lot out of it. Some folk who have made a positive impression on him and made him stretch--yet smile-- are Bruce Molsky, Shane Cook and DBR.

And I got a lot out of DBR. He's got some interesting theories on musical notations, which reminded me an awful lot of a drawing class I took. It's something I want to write about but will probably go up on the project blog.

Speaking of the project: It's taken me some time to digest my disappointment in the Cricket... to discover he's not quite as fabulous as I would have liked him to be. Creatively, and inspirationally, he is. And I miss the buzz. But a phrase popped into my head from a favorite song of mine: "I thought he was a man but he was just a little boy..." I wonder what's going to happen to the project--except it has to happen. I need it to progress a little further. But then I'm going to have to make some decisions. They may be bitchy ones.

I came home to a letter from the landlord indicating the building is up for sale.

this does NOT bode well for me AT ALL....

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Racism Will Never Die...

I said this to someone on FB... white dude, and he came back with some crap about how that's such a fatalistic view and at least he doesn't blablahblah. Something indicating he was better than me and more forgiving or something. I stopped responding to him; refused to acknowledge any of his comments. Anything I said was going to add to his fire. All this was in response to a blogpost I shared, dissecting the Skip Gates thing.

I haven't written about racism lately, or race, or heritage cuz I got a little sick of it. I go through phases in my life where I just refuse to acknowledge it, and live in my own little la-la world--a trait I've inherited from my mother. She's great at creating her own world and sticking to it.

But lately, I've noticed a disturbing trend. I knew the Gollums would hiss and slither once Obama got to be President, but I admit I was kinda hoping they'd crawl back under their rocks and sulk.

No such luck. Like slugs after the rain, they are all over the place, fat nasty slithering little things that congregate in odd places like YouTube or in the comments section after a post on the New York Times Online website.

Some of the comments I ran across in response to Sotomayor confirmation hearings were appalling.

And I want to delve into it more, formulate more thoughts but it's oh so tiring...

Monday, July 27, 2009

Writing Every Day is Interesting

because it gets to be work. Like today I'm tired, it's late--really late--but I said I'd post every day for a month and I will.

Last time I tried this it was with drawing, and it was much harder than this and I failed. But I think I realized that part of it was not having anything to say artistically--or rather thinking that I didn't. Whereas, I can always think of something to write, even if it's just random spewing.

So maybe next month I'll either post a photo, or a drawing a day. Hmmmmm.....

I also remember what my father used to tell me about writing in my diary every day: to write what you did, not what you felt. If you write what you did, it will spark the memory of the feeling of what you did. But if you just write the feeling, you may not remember what sparked it.

Which is why often this month I found myself just writing what I did.

Like today was the first day of the Sun's violin camp. We actually got down there early, despite my one hour of sleep.

His first class--an old time fiddle class was fun, and he enjoyed it. The second class--a waste. But the third was fabulous, and the Sun, some Opus classmates and myself became aware of the amazing presence of one DBR. A simply phenomenally talented, energetic, intelligent, and literate (and kinda hawt, too) man, in two hours he gave the Sun back the joy of the violin, teaching the class how to make amazing sounds from the instrument, often doing all those things the Suzuki method teaches them NOT to do; playing close to the bridge, hitting the strings with the bow...

The Sun smiled practically through the whole session, and came out looking like a musician. SD picked us up and I enjoyed seeing the Sun trying to explain what he learned. And I saw that SD is going to have to really learn all about the Sun's world.

The Sun went off to spend the night with his dad... and I came home. Sucked coming home to nothing--it always does--but eh. The cheesy egg grits I made were great and I didn't have to share the smoked herring.

Sunday, July 26, 2009

Way Too Much Togetherness

...with SD. Just way too much. And it's not like we're not getting along, because we are. And the Sun loves it, and it was a pleasant day but the longer it dragged on the more I felt like I was jumping out of my skin and I wanted to shoot myself.

He came and picked us up to take us into the City to register the Sun for the Mark O'Connor String camp. And I'm not being ungrateful cuz it was so much easier and faster to have gotten there by car.

Registration took about 10 minutes; they were all very pleasant and Mr. O'Connor himself was there looking ordinary and and not at all like the fabulous spine-tingling musician he is, but the Sun refused to go and say "hi". All of a sudden the kid is ridiculously shy.

It's gonna be tough for my little man; I worry that Roberta was right and this camp is way over his head... but I'm hoping that the teachers will be nice and patient and recognize a kid with some raw talent, and I'm hoping the kid will find himself surrounded by people who are there because they love music, and I'm hoping he hears other kinds of violin music and not just the Suzuki method. Cuz the Suzuki method is great and methodical and I totally see the logic... but lets face it it's not really relative to a kid's every day. Show them some hip hop or jazz! Or rock! Something that will make them want to play... so I worry for my little man but I hope he enjoys it.

He sat in the back of the car and picked the classes he wanted to take; first choice and second choice. When we came home I made a chart for him so he could keep track of where he needed to be. The downside to this camp is that it really isn't for little kids and so a chaperon is required at all times... and at least tomorrow it's all me. Which sucks cuz I have so much work to do... and my laptop is too damn heavy.


We went to see Poppy afterwards, and went all over looking for a chocolate shake for him. BigBear met us there and we had a pleasant enough time sitting on the patio of the rehab, talking and eating. But time began to drag and I just wanted to leave. Then SD wanted to go to Target to see if the jeans they had on sale would be of use to the Sun for school. But I know Target and knew the jeans would either suck or they wouldn't have the Sun's size (cuz they never do), but while we were there I got him to buy some food and snacks for the week for camp... cuz I have no money. And this is where I really started to slide into a mood cuz I have no fucking money and I HATE needing shit from him. I hate it. And I hated being there with him and his ways of always looking for the cheapest deal, yet will go buy a movie, and needing to park way far away from everywhere cuz he hates the traffic and I just wanted to scream.

As we were coming home it began to pour down rain. And hail. A wonderful summer storm... which broke enough for the sun to be shining, causing a rainbow to appear over the Rock as we crossed the bridge. I suppose that was some kind of sign but I wanted to scream.

Finally we got home, and SD left. And then I got into a fight with the Sun who frittered away a half hour of time instead of practicing, and then the Moon came over to show him his new PSP. I could comment on that but I won't. Well, other than to say I feel bad that the Sun, who's wanted a PSP for years, has to wait until he saves enough money to buy his because I can't afford it. I explained to him why the Moon got one and he'll have to wait and he was extraordinarily mature about the whole thing. And he's got about half the money... except I keep having to borrow money from him and that slows him down. And he's earning it slowly, at $5 a week that he earns from UN taking out her trash. But... I still stand by my decisions to make him buy his own expensive toys cuz a.) I don't get mad when they break--not my money and b.) it's good for him to know early he can have anything he wants if he's willing to work for it. And sometimes it'll take him longer than his friends to have "cool shit". But on the other hand, he bought it himself. I hope that when he's a teenager it'll count for something with him, and that he'll be entrepreneurial.

So then I got a text from CNC, who earlier was debating going on her fourth or fifth date with her new guy, and wanted to have "the talk." She told me that this morning... I told her it was way too fucking early to have "the talk" and if she was feeling that way she should just not go on the date, give everyone some room to breathe and string him along some more. But she went on the date anyway. I texted back then don't be complaining when he gets what he wants and you don't. She got mad. Whatever. If you don't want to hear what I have to say, don't fucking ask me. And yeah it's easy for me to give advice cuz I'm not the one in it... and I perfectly understand being swept away and wanting to spend time with someone, but I also perfectly understand when it's not me who's being swept away, how it goes:

Hot and heavy in the beginning till he gets laid, and then all of a sudden he doesn't want a fucking relationship. So the best bet for a chick is just not to give him any. The problem with this is that grown women have needs, too. And grown women have no problem sleeping with a guy on the 2nd or 3rd date... hell even the first, and continuing to get to know him, have fun and hang out. And yeah, we probably do expect it to develop into "something", otherwise we wouldn't be sleeping with him (most of us anyway) but "relationship" can mean various things to various women and they don't always mean "I need to see you every fucking day and call you Papa". A lot of the time it means "I want to have regular sex with someone I like, and with one person I like, cuz sex with multiple partners is risky business and generally pretty nasty". But no. Men get all freaked out, cuz for them the hunt is over and basically they don't WANT to have regular sex with someone they like and want to hang out. They just want to hunt. So your best bet is just not to give him any, cuz then he'll keep hunting.

But, chicks don't like hearing it even though we know it's true. Fuck it. So I haven't heard from her since. I almost texted her again to make sure she got home OK but she's a resilient bitch and I"m sure she's fine. Besides, I have my own problems.

I'm so done with my life. Sometimes I really wonder at the point of even attempting to do anything for me. Maybe I just need to take meds, suck it up, get a regular job and be ordinary. But somehow the thought of that is worse than death.

I took some pictures at the pow ow yesterday that I'm happy with, but I'm running out of room on the hard drive and need to make space, so at some point they'll go up... taking pictures is about the only thing that makes me happy. Too bad nobody buys photography.

Saturday, July 25, 2009

We Went to the Pow Wow

...the first pow wow Upstairs Neighbor had ever gone to.

We all had a blast; WhiteClogs and her family cam which helped the Sun enjoy it all the more. And of course the Diva and Tiny One...

But pow wow's tucker you out so I have to post later. Cuz I got rants... and photos!

Friday, July 24, 2009

Maybe I'm Getting There...

...maybe. My apartment is a little neater and that makes me soooo happy.

I hung out with WhiteHorse today. I like her. She made me laugh by telling me she's still trying to get used to me, figure out where I'm coming from. I told her I'm pretty simple, really...

I was stressed getting to her... She's very methodical and wanted to leave for New Jersey shops at 9. I knew I wasn't going to make it. I told her 10A. She stressed. I said I'd try. I'd also told SD I'd bring the Sun down to him (he's staying with a cousin on E.94th). I told him I was shooting for 9-9:30.

Due to various things... some within in my control and some without, like the train deciding to go local and then express again, I didn't get down to E.96th till 10:15. Which is about the time I knew I'd get there originally. And I realized... I know me pretty well. I know my timing. People stress me cuz it doesn't work for their timing, and they try to get me or force me to conform to their timing. And it doesn't work. If they just let me flow on my own timing we'd all be less stressed.


I had a chuckle that when I got to 96th both SD and Whitehorse were in their cars... one right behind each other on the same side of the street. I passed the Sun off to his dah, and got in the car with WhiteHorse.

In Jersey we hit IKEA, and I spent $35 I don't have on stuff I needed... two more bins to organize stuff in, a nice mat to put by the cubbies at the front door so we can take our shoes off, a handy-dandy tool to tighten up IKEA furniture with and a cinnamon bun. I wanted to buy a red file box in the Container store for my desk but had run out of funds. Next week.

Back in the city we picked up WhiteHorse's boys from camp and then I went to BigBear's cuz now I needed to borrow money for the Pow Wow tomorrow.


I'm trying to back up off the Scrub. Sometimes I think I can handle it. I can, actually, being friends. He is what he is. But he came on a little strong in a message, and between that and realizing I could still cry if I heard a certain song, I wrote him this morning and told him he needed to back up. I told him I knew where he was in his head--as always--and if he needed a friend all he had to do was call, but I can't go "there." And I told him why. He wrote back asking where I was gonna be today... and luckily I was with WhiteHorse. So I haven't heard from him since. And I'm trying to keep it that way... though the temptation for a little comfort is growing...

... yuck. The thing is I so enjoy the Cricket, and if there was a chance I'd rather wait to see how things pan out cuz he truly understands where I go in my head....

...but I'm getting really tired of spending my Friday nights alone.

Although I wasn't, for a minute cuz I went to dinner with CNC at the place across the street. It was nice to sit outside and eat a salad and have a grown up lemonade. SD brought the Sun to me there, and said hello to CNC.

We came home, the Sun and I, and went upstairs to talk to UN. She's coming with us to the Pow Wow tomorrow, in honor of the memory of Mr. Kip. And she really wanted to come... was even willing to drive. While sitting with her I got a call from SD.

And for a minute I thought "Oh fuck here we go" as he was spouting off about not wanting my friends to shoot him dirty looks when the Sun was around. But I was buzzed enough from the grown-up lemonade to not get too tense... and logic told me in the pitchdark of the outdoor seating, he really couldn't see what looks she'd be throwing and I realized it was his own insecurity in fitting back in to NY and our lives.

I told him look, I doubt it. I'll find out if she was, but I said to him that really... everybody knows we have a history. Everyone knows it was a long war. And everyone knows we've made a peace and everyone knows why you've come back. You've come back for your kid and you gave up a lot to come back. And ultimately, everyone is happy for the Sun. I told him that I highly doubted that anyone--including UN--is gonna throw shade. A LOT has happened in the last 4 years since he's been gone... and all that really matters is the Sun.

The thing is, I meant it. And the funny thing was CNC and I had JUST been talking about the horror of DV... how it changes you. She had had the same visceral reaction to Chris Brown's video that I had, the tone of his voice and the emphasis on the statement (about a minute into the video) "I TOLD Rihanna COUNTless times that I'm sorry...." made both of our hackles rise. So maybe she had thrown him a look... but I doubt it. Cuz I had just told her how we had made peace and I'm willing to take it at face value. For now.

And SD knows the unsaid... I am perfectly capable of going to war again. And I will. But I don't want to...

We hung up, friends, him perfectly OK with the Sun coming with me to the Pow Wow, and that we'd meet on Sunday to check the Sun into Mark O'Conner's violin camp...

...peace prevails....

Thursday, July 23, 2009

He's Baaaaaaaaack

for good--SD's dad.

Now that the reality is here, I wonder how it's gonna play out.

I realized yesterday I really don't care about him; couldn't recall the last time he was here, or anything. The Sun however, was beside himself. He chattered on incessantly the day before, and then he couldn't sleep. I forgot... I forgot he was excited.

SD took us out to breakfast and I sat there watching them. He's come back at the right time. He needs to be part of the Sun's "everyday" and not some hero who comes riding in from far way every few months. I saw the Sun try so hard to impress him, to be cool... the admiration glowing in his little face. And then unexpected bouts of shyness.

It's going to be an adjustment for all of us... the dynamics have changed. For the most part I'm really OK with everything, so long as SD doesn't think there's hope of us getting back together. I wonder how we ever worked... I mean we didn't obviously. But we worked long enough for there to be the Sun. But we are SO different. The cool thing is that for the moment SD appears to be OK with who I am now...

Apparently they went to look at an apartment--a basement apartment in SD's old childhood neighborhood. The Sun HATED the apartment. He said the windows looked like jail, it felt like something was already there. He told his dad. When they came back later SD said for the Sun to tell me how he felt. I looked at the Sun and saw he was deadly serious. Granted, he and the Moon decided they could handle watching Discovery Channel's "A Haunting in..." and the episode about demons completely freaked him out, but still. He really didn't like the apartment. I laughed. I told SD "You should really listen to him" but he said it was all he could afford and that he'd be alright.

After he left, the Sun was near tears in his description of the place. I explained to him about it being all his dad could afford for the moment, but I said "I do understand why the apartment is all wrong for your dad... but maybe if he's only there a year--just long enough to get on his feet--he can move someplace much nicer." And the Sun seemed OK with that...


I heard a song a little while ago that put me right back in July. Which took me to August. And I don't think I can handle that. It's not that I wish for it to come back... I know that what happened was that I so badly WANTED to believe and WANTED "forever" that I allowed myself to suspend judgement. I can still cry for the hurt I felt, though... but I'm pretty solid in the reality of what "is". And more importantly, what "isn't".

I wonder what it is about us chicks that wants/expects men to confront themselves and be honest and upfront, though. Even when we know it's not the way they work. And I can sit and tell CNC that there is no way in hell the guy she had the date with is going to be OK with her saying "yes I want to sleep with you, but if I do, it's a relationship and if it's NOT a relationship I don't see the point in sleeping with you". Of COURSE he's going to say "well, I don't want a relationship" but he's still going to take it if you offer it. But I also know that telling all that to myself... knowing all that... it's still hard for me to accept.


And then I actually spoke to Cricket. He who doesn't' run away from the Crazy, he who is able to push me past my limit and more importantly, I trust him when he does.

I really wish I could be "casual" about "casual sex". Life would be SO MUCH fucking simpler...

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Got The Fever start cleaning up this mess. To the detriment of everything else. But I couldn't think. So the piles in my living room have largely been reduced to three, I got my desk together, rearranged the printer and scanner, mopped, vacuumed, vacuumed and mopped, found stuff, threw stuff out. Made quite a dent.

I'm exhausted. SD came in today, home for good. I hope it remains peaceful.

Cricket and I need to talk about the project but I was too tired to think coherently. I'm really far behind on work. I gotta catch up. But I SO needed to clear clutter.

The Sun had a decent practice today, but even better he had a "listening lesson" of something we came across by accident. He got into it and listened to all 10 parts on YouTube. So I'll post the first one and link the rest...

The Rest Of The Story....
part 2
part 3
part 4
part 5
part 6
part 7
part 8
part 9
part 10*

I posted them, cuz they were really good...

While looking for the Bach video, I came across this: Chris Brown deeply apologizing for beating the crap out Rihanna. You know--cuz he didn't mean to.

*what happens when you're tired is you forget to complete the job...

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

What ChicksTalk About

...when nobody's listening:

C: "I like him. But he keeps saying I'm cute. I'm tired of fucken bein' cute. Fuck! My ASS is cute! I want somebody to tell me I'm HAWT, dammit. That they want to take me home and fuck me doggy-style!"

M: "BWAHAH HAHA HAHAHAH. OK, Puta. I gotta go. I'll talk to you later. Love you."

C: "Bye, bitch, love you."

About 5 minutes later, phone rings:

M: "Hello?"

C: "I forgot to tell you something!!! That guy I met? He texted me 'Hi, love, you passed through my mind'. Freak! Who SAYS that! What does that mean I 'passed through' his mind?"

M: "Well, it probably means he thought you were HAWT and wanted to take you home and fuck you doggy-style!"

Maybe you hadda been there. But it cracked me up all damn day.


So the Project now owns a silkscreen machine. It was supposed to have been rerouted to my place because of some drama at Cricket's address, but it got shipped there anyway. Late. When he was home... which is a pretty cool sign if you ask me, since Cricket doesn't seem to go right home EVER, and had it come earlier no one would have been there.

So he's happy. It prompted a rather long text-messaging conversation in which he said something else that kind of pissed me off and in my head I was like "fuck it then. Let him do his shit and I'll think of something else" but what it came down to is text-messaging isn't always the best way to have a long business conversation.

In his case though, messaging works better for us cuz a.) when ever he calls me from his apartment the call gets dropped like 6 times, and b.) our phone conversations go on for hours. Fucker. I'm still pissed about the "not the same connection" bullshit. Oh yeah, I didn't write the details of that but basically that's what pissed me off. Whatever.

And then after a long messaging conversation it came down to the fact that we DO see exactly the same vision, just different ways of getting there. But the output, the message we're trying to share is exactly the same. And he gets me. He gets when I'm stifling myself, and I love that he tells me. And somehow it doesn't annoy me.

... and I got word from another source today that apparently, a few other people have noticed how well we understand each other. But whatever.

The Scrub resurfaced today, of all days. He might "need something" he said. I said "OH, I see how this works... YOU need something. Well *I* needed something the other night, and yesterday, but I was SOL cuz unlike you I don't got options". He asked me how come I wasn't certain places when he was. I told him it was cuz I was avoiding him. Which is true, actually.

A year ago I was in Vegas. A year ago I let my guard down and I fell hard. And suffered horribly afterward. Dealing with him reminds me of that shit, that I never want to feel like that again--the aftermath I mean. Cuz the first part was great.


The Sun had a violin lesson today with my HighSchool Peep. And today it clicked. Today he may have gotten the "joy" back. He got the hang of "Minuet II" by Bach, and he has some work to do on the smoothness, but it's starting to "lilt". And he enjoyed me telling him that that music piece reminds me of riding a bicycle... you go along for a spell on a road you know well, pretty straight ahead. And then you turn a corner and go along another path, one that has a few rolling hills, pedaling fast up the little inclines, coasting in the dips till you reach the top of the hill, then do the same down the other side.... then you get back to the main stretch of road you know well, the one that leads you home. As I described it, I could see in his eyes, that it clicked... he was starting to get the joy of the music, what it means to learn something new, to master the little hills and coast down the little slopes until you know it and it flows.

My HighSchoolPeep is also starting to teach him a more difficult concerto. He got the first line of it pretty quickly. The Sun's regular violin teacher at Opus had warned me that HSP pushes a little fast... but I knew it's what the Sun needed. He needed stuff thrown at him, that he could dodge and weave cuz the kid picks up things pretty quickly. HSP even said so... that he has a really good ear. And that he wanted the Sun to become a "literate" musician and really read the music and not just coast on playing by ear. So that was very cool.

On the way home, I was describing my own joy at singing and learning new music, and I guess Sun heard the passion in my voice. "Are you going to cry, mom?" "No," I said. "What makes you think that?"

"Cuz I know your voice," he said. "You get that little shake."

I had to laugh. I guess I'm more passionate about music than even I thought, and I do know that of all the things I can do, singing is the easiest, and my love for music--any kind of music--will always be my first love. And I really hope the Sun gets that fever for music, too... but I think it's starting... He played for his dad later. I held the phone up on speaker mode. SD was at dinner with some friends, but he was deeply moved... and had his friends listen in on the other end.


Poppy comes home next Tuesday. NOW is when Bigbear decides to clean the apartment. Not last month or two months ago... but now. And my sister has a headache cuz she's all stressed about him coming home. She wonders when she can live her own life, my sis. I keep telling her she just needs to do it. Luckily on FB when she posed the question everyone else said the same thing so I won't get snapped at in the comments section... I told her today she needs to not worry about Poppy. That's Bigbear's job... even if she doesn't want it.

I expect the comments that follow to be lengthy. Hmmmm. Maybe I'll disable the comment option...


I'm back on the "trying to re-arrange my desk" kick. And I remember why I stopped. There's no good configuration given all the equipment I have, and now it looks worse than ever, there's shit everywhere, and I have a TON of work I'm behind on... A TON. *sigh*...

Monday, July 20, 2009

"Truth" Is a Relative Term

...I've decided.

So as I mentioned Cricket and I had a text conversation the other day and I felt better, but then you know there are those things that are said that kind of stick with you, and the more you think about it the more you go "heeeeyy.... waitaminute..."

Then I got pissed off all over again. And I ALMOST direct-quoted a text (see, that is the beauty of texted conversations... you get some kind of proof) and called him on it, then I decided "why bother?" A.) It just drags shit out b.) like I said to the Cuban one day "If I have to explain it to you, it's not worth discussing" and c.) I think I should just accept the fact that he's a man, afterall. They're all full of shit, and they all play shit to their advantage. Plus, it's not like we're in a relationship.

Except we are, but that's beside the point. I used to tell Nene when ever you have dealings with anybody for any length of time, it's a relationship. Whether you're sleeping with them or not, and doubly so if you are but the question then become the TYPE of relationship rather than IF it's a relationship.

But again... that's one of those "semantic" type things that bug the fuck out of chicks but guys like to play fast and loose with. And "truth" is relative to where you're standing...

So fuck it.

I've spent enough time around guys to know how they think and I'm just going to let this one go.

Today was a shitty day. But it wasn't a 'Black August' Day though it was pretty damn close. There was stuff I wanted to get done but my desk finally got the better of me and I spent most of the day cleaning it up. I still have a few piles here and there, but it's better. And there were some piles behind me I got through. And I vacuumed. And I moved the recycle bins out into the hall. There's shit on the kitchen table I need to go through. But there's stuff I needed to do, stuff I promised. But instead I tidied up our project's page and took back control of the Twitter account. And I even cooked dinner for the kid. We ate outside... But none of that was what I was supposed to do, but I just didn't have the mental capacity to do what I was supposed to.

As for the boy... He's a good kid, my boy. But I worry. He's a boy. He will lay around, unwashed, breath kicking, with the remote all damn day, or play video games. Eat snacks. About the only man-like thing he doesn't do is scratch his balls. But I think that's only cuz he lives with me and doesn't have occasion to see stuff like that. Yet. But his father comes back Wednesday... I worry he's spent practically all of July on the couch with his feet in the air and the remote in his hand, but he doesn't seem to care.

CNC got asked on another date. Two actually. I am extremely happy for her... I am. Just because it's nice for her to be courted. She really has very little self-esteem though she has a lot of inner strength. She spent so much of her childhood being an adult, that she never got to stretch herself out and figure out her strengths. So it's nice for her to have that and I'm happy for her. But it's killing me cuz it's Cricket's friend and it means that if things heat up for them but cool down for me, I'll see less of her cuz I won't be able to stand being in that crew. I don't think they like me, anyhow. Which is fine cuz I'm not all that crazy about most of them... except for the one CNC went on the date with. But it's my issue... and I tried to overcome it but it was hard.

Cuz I miss my friend and I don't like the silence, but I don't feel compelled to break it just yet cuz I'm still pissed off. But... it was nice to find he checked on me later, though I am reminding myself it's just friendly.


I need money.

I took some pictures the other day of the flowers on my deck and I like them so much I'll put a few up...

This was taken out LilacBlue's window Saturday Night...

My lens didn't do so well focusing on the spider...

And I have new burgundy Day Lillies on the deck...

...and it was nice to hear from the Cricket tonight. It helped me forget a year ago today I was in Los Vegas.


Sunday, July 19, 2009

You Can Only Run But So Far

...from yourself.

I woke up realizing something this morning: all that toying with the Scrub was only a distraction from being fucked up over the Cricket. And it wasn't working for me, largely because the Scrub only plays his own game on his own time, which was doing absolutely nothing for me.

And the fact is I missed my friend. I missed the other stuff, too... but I missed the constant chatter. And there's not a lot I can do about it, really. By accident, I turned up something over the Internet that made me realize that the Cricket is loved by a bunch of people. Unlike the Scrub, who spreads himself around in order not to have to commit to anything, the Cricket holds himself close so as not to have to commit to anything. But point in the Cricket's favor is he's not a liar, and when confronted is usually pretty forthcoming. Unlike the Scrub who just disappears.

But either way neither of them is doing shit for me, so I'm still in the same miserable boat. And only I can figure out a way to deal with it. And no, I haven't figured out a way. But at least I finally came clean with myself.

But the walls were closing in, and although I'll regret not staying home and cleaning up so that I can finish projects this week, I ran like hell. ShoeFly was going to take the Sun with her and the Moon up to our CrazyFriend in Connecticut's house. She has a new pool. But at the absolute last minute I decided to go with them; I hadn't even showered which for me is MAJOR. I go nowhere without a shower.

And I'm glad I went... I floated in CrazyFriend's pool, and ate food, and ice cream, and laughed with the absolutely charming gay couple who live across the street from her.

ShoeFly had rented a Zip car to get there, and so she had to return it. She asked me to go with her so that she wouldn't have to take the train back by herself. And I did. But it meant the Sun missed his 8P webcam with his dad....

...and to illustrate how much SD has chilled... he's taken to texting me about 15 minutes before the appointed time, to see where we are. Rather than wait and then berate me. And I know it's my job to remember, but with it being summer and nice out and the sun not going down I forget until about 15 minutes after we should have started. So I don't mind at all that he texts me to remind me. And I felt TERRIBLE that I'd forgotten to let him know we'd be late today.

SD comes back to the city for good on Wednesday. I think it's going to be OK. At least I hope it will be. I was hoping that I'd be in some kind of a steady relationship by the time he got back... but... it won't happen. Cuz I've no desire to get back with him. But I do look forward to cooperative parenting, and the Sun is at the age where fathers being to make a huge impression. So I hope we are able to maintain peace and cordiality. The odd thing is... getting to know the Scrub and his Babymama gave me the hope and the realization that good co-parenting relationships are actually possible...

... so there's good in every situation.

I had a text conversation with the Cricket in which we at least got positions clear. I don't feel a whole lot better about the long term prospects. Or even the short term. I mean, the project will work cuz we're both committed to making it work. But it kind of sucks. Cuz I've carried a torch for sooooo long.... but I guess I should be happy that I at least got to sample it. Cuz if you'd asked me about it in 2003 I never thought I'd even get this close...


Saturday, July 18, 2009

Well, Technically

I missed a day of writing. Really, cuz I wasn't home.

But I'm'a pretend I didn't...

It was was nice to be in the city early in the day. Nice to be in the neighborhood of West 94th. There is such a different rhythm to the city. There is never really silence.

Out here, to hear "silence" is to hear the occasional car pass by, birds chirping, quiet. In the city, there is a low, dull roar. Cars, air conditioners, the movement of people all combine to create a padding between you and silence.

I had a nice time at LilacBlue's, talking to her and WhiteHorse. At the last minute, the Sun ended up going home with WhiteHorse and her boys, and I stayed behind. I wished I'd had someplace to go, a date... but in the end I stayed up all night and watched taped episodes of "Nurse Jackie". It's a great show. It makes me consider buying Showtime, which I can't afford...

In the morning I left, searching for coffee and vacuum cleaner bags. I ran right into the Scrub's kid and PracticalMama... the Sun's school principal. She got that name last year because of her relationship with the Scrub. She offered to make me coffee but I just didn't want to get sucked into that circle.

I went up to WhiteHorse's, and spent about two hours just sitting with her. The talk turned to things spiritual, since she'd gone to Seminary School. It occurred to me that had I known about such studies, it's a line of study I may have considered. The subject of God, and man's relationship with Him, and how religion affects us actually interests me, though I don't write about it much.

Afterwards, we went to visit Poppy. At home. He had climbed the 66 steps home to visit. It's big, this event... and I haven't processed it yet. I still haven't really processed the whole thing. Maybe I won't, can't, until he's home. Maybe it's just because the chapter hasn't closed...

I hung out on the Rock later, leaving the kid home with CNC's son. Some chick was acting nuts and attempted a drunken striptease/bar dance. Only she was really unattractive. Poor thing...

Friday, July 17, 2009

I'm Not Emo....

...really. I realized today people probably think there's something really wrong with me.

But I have learned 'tis far far better to let my Hell out than to keep it in. I mean, some of it I keep in, but most of it I let go. Which is why I'm usually pretty calm in person.

But sometimes shit gets the best of me.

This morning I woke up with THE WORST feeling of despair and stress... it was so overpowering I lay in bed not wanting to open my eyes. Now, I've had the feeling before, and there have been times when it has been my own feeling. But this morning, I woke up knowing that what was going on in my life had not taken a turn for the worse, so there was no real reason for me to feel as bad as I did...

So I figured the feeling belonged to someone else... and about an hour later I remembered that the Cricket was facing some stress. And then LO and behold, it was confirmed. And I knew the feeling was his. Ain't that some shit? I mean I know it exists... I know I have this "thing" but it is always such a relief when I have proof.

So I texted him, and was only going to ask was he OK but I knew he'd say he was. I added "I know you're not OK, cuz I can feel it" and asked him just to let me know he was breathing.

So... he's breathing. And he'll be OK. Finding out that he was OK brought me to tears, the relief was so intense.


Really the only two things that stress me are the fact that I have no income, and that I can't organize myself to finish the things I know will bring me income.

That and I do wish I had a partner... I wish I could have another baby before time runs out on me...

...but other than that, life is what it is. And it could be worse. It could get worse. It might, too, but for now I'm alright.

I ended up coming in to the City to hang with LilacBlue and Whitehorse, after first taking the Sun to his violin workout. My M&A Peep who has decided to tutor my Sun is a blessing, and I am so very grateful to him. Gonna have to figure out a way to pay him back... or pay it forward.

So I'm good. I'm praying for my Cricket friend and I wish I was truly able to take his journey with him, but... we all gotta do what we do...

...and I've given up on the Scrub again. Cuz he's a beast that will always be what he is.

Thursday, July 16, 2009

Not Much To Say Today...

today would be a day I don't write, if it weren't for the challenge of writing every day.
Obsessions are useful things.

But... feeling kind of Blah. I checked in on Cricket to see how things were going with him. His reply was short and sweet and reminded me how I carried that torch for so long.

But the Scrub's visit was good for me. It reminded me how there will never be another Black August. Thinking of him, and missing him is good. Because I know the beast he is and will always be, and I know not to get attached. To shut it down. Missing him keeps me out of trouble. But the Cricket is another story.

The Sun and I went into the city. I had a doctors appointment. I found out the polyps I had were benign (which I knew they would be). I'm healthy. I'm still no closer to having a baby, though...

I took the Sun to the hair salon: he needed it washed and conditioned, and I needed red added to it. And then we hung out with Bigbear for a little while...

...that's all, folks...

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

Don't feel like writing today

but I'm trying to see if I can write every day for a month.

But I don't have much to say.

I had a visit yesterday... it was sort of announced that a visit was imminent. And then there was traffic but the visit happened anyway... I expected the visit not to happen.

It was weird. I wanted to ask a million questions, but I knew that the answer I got would be bullshit, and I knew the answer anyway.

Comfort... quiet... someone who understood pain. That's all there was... that was the only answer to the million questions. I kept my distance, pretty much. There will never be another Black August. But the company was nice. About 5 hours later the visit was over, and silence returned.

One small remnant of the visit was asked to be kept: "So this means you're coming back?"
"This summer, or next summer?" but I don't really remember the answer. If I were a betting bitch I'd bet once in a few weeks. And then next summer. But this isn't what I want. Not what I want to feel.

Today, the Cricket had some major upheaval. The kind of thing that begins to define you shape you, make you wonder what you stand for. It was a looooong day for him, and I heard from him throughout the day. It was the most I've heard from him in a while. I feel for him; there but for the grace of God--and UN--go I. I hope he'll be alright... in the end I know he will. I knew that he hadn't really suffered yet, and now he will. It sucks, but it's necessary. It also means that he'll be off on his own journey and it won't have much to do with me...

I wish that the Vegas fairytale would have had a happy ending. But I guess if it had, Cricket and I wouldn't have started our project... I wouldn't have been there for him like I was today. In the end he'll be OK. In the end, my visitor will be OK... he is what he is and will always land on his feet.

But me... being a Comfort Doll isn't getting me anywhere, though I can't stop being one. I could, I guess... but someone has to do it. I don't mind, really. I just wish once in a while someone was there for me.

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

To stand for something

...can be a lonely task, I think. To make a decision about how you live your life, and try to live that life to the best of your ability. To develop a set of ideals that you strive to uphold, a way of life that can withstand scrutiny. To live by your word.

The problem with all that, I think, is that everyone has their own idea of how things should be. There isn't a universal truth. Or is there?

I grew up in a household that had a pretty set idea of life. It was easy to do growing up, because we were pretty isolated... by virtue of culture, geography. We read the Bible--the old Testament--every Saturday. We read the Ten Commandments and the Virtuous Woman so often that I can recite most of those passages by heart, even though it's been years since I read it every Saturday. We also read a lot of Mao Zedong, in addition to the biographies of those who stood for change... those things made me learn to question the world around me, to develop ideas about what's right or wrong. It was easy to live by... no one was around.

So here I am back in the big city. Sort of full circle in myself. It used to be that I tried to make the world around me see what I saw. It would distress me that they didn't. More importantly it would distress me when people didn't try to live life according to a principle. I said the other day that I had gotten to a point where they way other people live life doesn't bother me as long as it doesn't affect me.

And that's pretty much true.

But in a way, everything we do or say affects someone else. We are all linked together. It used to be that people tried to look out for each other; had some sense of a community. There was a time, it seems, if something was wrong or someone was hurt, people stepped in. We corrected each other's children. But I don't see that too much anymore. What I DO see though, is an awful lot of folk who speak about what they would do... pretty vehemently. But they won't act actually DO anything.

A discussion of sorts came up on today and it added to my inner debate. A pregnant lady was spotted smoking... and the remark was made that the person who spotted her really wanted to walk up and smack some sense into her. Someone else chimed in that they should have.

But here's the thing. You know damn well you're not REALLY going to walk up and smack anybody. You're just not, unless you're unbalanced. A.) it's assault. B.) there's no telling what the other person would do. But on the real... if you saw a pregnant woman smoking... what WOULD you do? What SHOULD you do?

The thing that distresses me is... 90% of the time, no body's really going to do anything. 5% of the time, people will shoot dirty looks. 3% of the time, someone will shout something nasty, usually from a moving vehicle or in passing. Maybe 1% of the time someone will say or do something constructive, and the other 1% are unbalanced enough to actually do something physical.

And I think you SHOULD say something... but the question is.. what and how?

Monday, July 13, 2009

The more I do...

the less I get done.

About a weeks worth of sleeplessness has caught up to me. For some reason my allergies have been kicking my ass today, and all I seem to have accomplished is laundry and a silkscreen machine for me and the Cricket's project, and the dishes. And the Cricket was already stressing about what putting money into the machine. I guess in case he wants out. I told him if the partnership doesn't work and he wants out, just buy they machine outright. Cuz what the hell am I gonna do with it? Where would I put it? Where is HE gonna put it, is the question, but whatever. Just print my damn shirts. The thing is now the project has an asset. If he believed it, this thing could fly.

The deck looks really nice, though and it's a pleasure to sit out there. Now I just have to get the damn barbecue built.


Oh, and Cricket's friend who is also his (girl?)friend's ex asked CNC out. Which is really nice for her... I happen to like the guy, particularly since I'm not overly crazy about his ex for various reasons.

I should go to bed tonight... but I probably won't.

Here's another video taken on my sucky Treo of the Sun practicing "Minuet 2"...


Sunday, July 12, 2009

Almost done...

...with the deck. Got the furniture stained, the outdoor rug down, the umbrella up. Started another "Zen" corner on the other sided of the futon sofa, broke down the old barbecue. Got ALL the remaining garbage off, started a lettuce pot. Got a tan.

Did more thinking. It's dumb, I know, but I'm having flashbacks... thinking about Vegas and what it was to plan the trip. So much anticipation. Such a great ride. Horrible letdown. I could have gone to see him today; there was a function I was invited to where I knew he'd be, but I decided not to go. The deck made Central Park seem really far away, and besides... I wasn't in the mood to keep my guard up. So I stayed on the deck. All day. And I'm glad I did.

I didn't see a soul today, other than UN. And I saw her from the roof. I finally forced the kid off the couch and over to the Moon's house. I have to figure out how to get him out while he's home... that kid will sit on the couch all damn day. Him and MMB have an amazing amount of shit in common: laconic, sardonic, and musical. And love the damn television.

I have a ton of jobs to finish... a ton of housework to do. But the deck is almost done.

Saturday, July 11, 2009

From the outside in... the way I'm working lately. My deck is almost "there". I think I got most of the leaf debris and miscellaneous garbage into bags. All the flowers UN got me have gone into pots. All skanky pots have been emptied or recycled. And later CNC and the Sun helped me open all the lounging chairs when it started to rain, so that the rain could wash them clean. The last big job to do is to dismantle the old barbecue and and set up the new one. I'm kind of scared of that job... But I find myself looking at my apartment and feeling the clean-up is doable. I yearn for "lean and mean and clean"...

The Fam came up today for awhile, with Poppy. I hadn't been writing about it but it's a regular thing lately. It makes the Professor tired and crabby cuz she's the one that gets the brunt of the running around, but on the other hand it's about the steadiest trek they've made my house in years, the kid loves it--opting to stick around rather than go see the Moon--and loves having MoodMagicBarbie over, and it's good for Poppy. And as overwhelming as they can be I like having them here. Even when they're snappy, like they were today.

We ordered Chinese food and then they went on their way, CNC sticking around for awhile afterwards to chat. As we talk she tells me more and more of what her childhood was like, and the more she talks the more I admire her resiliency, her openness. Her survivor's heart. She never thinks her story is all that special. But what she's done and seen and survived in her life rival any movie. I keep telling her she needs to write it... I wonder if she'd let me. But it would be hard to match her descriptions... when she talks I see it all in my minds eye, and I am astounded at the human will to survive.

Which sort of brings me to a difficult story brewing in the Fam. Every family has their drama and heartache, and our Fam is no exception... for us it's the Diva. We love her dearly... but she's spoiled and far too dependent on the family--the parents in particular--to support her. She doesn't work, doesn't look for work with any focus, struggled through a semester and dropped out, and doesn't pay one bill on her own. My argument with the parents in particular is that they have treated her as if she's handicapped and incapable of taking care of herself. And I don't think she is. And even if she were, I've known handicapped or folk challenged with various afflictions who haul ass and try to be independent. So I love her greatly but don't have a lot of sympathy for her. And I told Poppy today during a family discussion about his imminent release from the rehab, that he's got to close the family purse. She needs to hustle, if only for a little while. She needs to grow up. She needs to try. And I guess that's what bothers me in particular... it's not that she can't or that she may fail, it's that she doesn't try. And I know she knows it, and is worried, cuz she hasn't been around the family much lately.

But I remember being 22 and 23, and all that mattered was sex and boys and parties and alcohol, but at the same time I hustled. I worked, or schemed or dreamed, and I was determined to be independent. I didn't want to depend on anyone... and it's something she needs to show.

Families are weird things. The older I get the more I'm convinced that there really is no "normal". There is "average", maybe... "average" families with "average" dysfunction. Then there is a sliding scale of "more than average", "kinda fucked up", "fucked up", "FUBAR" and "HolyShitTherapyWaitingToHappen". Maybe there's a "WhyBotherWithTherapy" category too. I think we'd actually fall into the "more than average" category, cuz our family is just damn weird but we like each other, pretty much. So I'm hoping that the Diva will pull her shit together cuz she's got brains and charisma up the wazoo... but she's not overly confident in her brainskills. Which is kind of sad... I wonder why that happened. Cuz I don't think she's dumb at all--not in the least. She's definitely wired differently than we are... and that's biological. I think she needs to find her own brand of strength and her natural rhythm of dealing with the world rather than the BearClan way, but it doesn't make her dumb. I guess I never really realized that till just now. I'm going to have to figure out how to explain that to her...

Cuz the little one, MMB gets more and more BearClan-like every day; laconic, sardonic, musical... a thinking child. I'm always startled at how much MMB is like me, because for so long I've loved and known the Diva who is completely different. I got used to the "difference" and the similarities with MMB throw me. And I suppose that has to make the Diva feel a little weird. And I hope that time will restore her confidence in herself and how much she is loved. But it's one of those things you've got to figure out on your own.

Lately, with all the writing and the thinking, I've found it easy for me to let my judgements and preconceived notions of how life should be go. I don't care much what people do, particularly if it doesn't affect me personally. There was a time when I wanted no parts of people's freakishness... it would bother me or get my moral panties in a bunch and I wanted nothing to do with them. But the older I get, the more people fascinate me. I love putting myself in oddly or slightly uncomfortable situations, testing the limits of my self, just to see what comes out of it. There are certain things I won't do... groups, girls, or married guys, pork shellfish or things that are really dangerous. But aside from that I'll try anything once, cuz it gives me shit to write about. And it gives me infinite insights to myself and the world around me. And I become more and more amazed at how closed up people really are... how closed up I used to be. And I know it's the pain thing... that fact I feel it so fiercely. I understand suicide... why someone would try to escape the constant pain. I spent a lot of time deadening pain... and when I broke through it it sucked ass and hurt as much as I knew it would. But fuck it. I survived it long enough to move past it. Kind of like labor. Resting through the valleys, riding out the peaks. So I think I'm OK now. Cuz I know there will be another wave in there, but at the same time the joy is just as high. It makes it worth it to endure, to feel. But it's weird. The pain I can feel makes me empathetic... my ability to ride it out makes me strong.

One of the things that had caused me pain is beginning to settle, and lately I've been thinking that my life is just not going to include a steady partner, I realized this morning I think my problem is I'm the man I wish I could find. And uh. I doubt there's two of me in the world, particularly a male version. And if there is he's a long long way away. I'm trying to get past the baby thing... it's the last thing I struggle with. But I figure I have one more year. And a lot can happen in a year...

I've heard very little/barely little from Cricket. If I allow myself it hurts. I miss the buzz, the back-and-forth. But at the moment I've no desire to pursue. Fuck it. Long as the project continues it's good. But I have my doubts about that too...

Conversely, I've heard more than the usual from the Scrub. If I allow myself, he can get to me. I miss the comfort, the similarity. But at the moment I've no desire to pursue. I wonder what really possesses him to keep contact. Is it the chase? He already knows what I'm about. He tried to come up today and at another time I would have waited excitedly and wanted him to come. But today I didn't want to waste my time waiting, and I said no. Plus, I told him I don't want bits and pieces... if you're coming I want time.

Ha. That shut him down for the rest of the day.

Another odd thing is that I've been having conversations with the BabyMama, with whom I have an interesting number of odd things in common. Including the Scrub, ha ha. I've avoided contact with her cuz I'd no desire to be close to her--not that they are together or so he says--but because the similarities between her and me were apparent from the beginning. But like I said... the oddly uncomfortable situation has a certain appeal. Keeps life interesting...

Speaking of interesting... I JUST realized today was my ex-(choke)husband's birthday... funny how time erases things...

Friday, July 10, 2009

uh, did I mention I was obsessive?

I am, in case you didn't know. And I signed up to post every day. Now, "day" is a technicality, since my day ends whenever it is I pass out.

And while "technically" it's Saturday and I missed Friday, I haven't been to sleep yet so for me, uh, it's Friday night. So I'm back timing it to reflect the right date.

Really, it's Saturday morning.

Yesterday, in my world was Day of Atonement, since my family follows Kosher rules but never converted to the Jewish Calendar. So I fasted all day.

We went to see "Ice Age" with UN (funny) and then she took me and the Sun to Home Depot to buy more flowers (she's just way to generous). When we came home, I planted and cleaned some more of the deck and made a "zen" corner for the old Buddha.

Then I got dressed and headed into the City with CNC and the Sun (who I dropped off with his Nana), and went to see cousin Son of Sound dj at Bar13.

NONE of the men I would have liked to have seen show up showed up, but my crazy-ass girlfriend did... it was her birthday. We had a blast. She's insane. Professor is appalled by her lifestyle but to me she's vastly entertaining.

Cousin killed it. I took pictures.

Came home. Only the Rock serves alcohol at 5 in the morning, so of course we had to have some.

Cricket text ed me earlier, which was nice: he knew I was giving Cuz a shirt. Would have been nice of him to show but I guess all that is a wrap.

The Scrub texted me later in the night. Would have been nice of HIM to show, but I guess all that is a wrap.

So I'll go to bed... more tomorrow...

Thursday, July 9, 2009

flowers, finally....

... on the deck out back. I finally reclaimed my deck.

It started yesterday, with the help of Upstairs Neighbor and the Sun. The deck needed to be reclaimed. I shared an awful lot of time on my desk last July, just sitting or talking or smoking. Making plans...

In August I would sneak out to the deck so the Sun wouldn't see, and fucking cry. I knew he wasn't coming back. I knew it the minute he left, despite whatever he said. I could feel the distance the minute he left. I started crying right away. My heart knew. My head wanted to believe, my ears heard what he said and my lips tried to form words to make him come back, but my heart knew. And after that I stopped sitting on the deck. The professor moved to an apartment that didn't have a deck, and all the stuff that been on her deck got brought to mine, but I didn't really care and so however it landed was exactly how it stayed.

It was a weird winter somehow, very harsh. We had a lot of snow and a lot of wet even though it wasn't as cold as other winters I remember, and everything died. And so when spring came (such as it was) and it rained and rained and rained, whatever was left in the flowerpots drowned or got choked with weeds. A few things survived... the yellow daisies, the yellow and orange day lilies (lilies are intrepid) and the purple iris.

Funny thing about the iris... UN gave it to me in a pot a few years back. I never did shit to it... barely gave it new dirt, left it in the same old pot, watered it when I remembered. Over the winter the pot fell and landed on it's side. And guess what?

This spring, the iris decided to fight back, and grew out of the sideways pot and gave me a big "fuck you" by producing several large and deep purple blooms. It kind of inspired me, that iris. Despite being mistreated and ignored, it survived. Despite being unappreciated, it gave beauty anyway. UN and I propped it up, still on it's side, in a place of honor along the back wall. We decided to call my deck "Survivor's Garden". The Sun said I should make a sign. I probably will.

UN hadn't wanted to do her garden either. It's been hard for her since Mr. Kip left. It was easy for me to tell her she HAD to... I knew Kip would have been mad if she let it go, and I told her so. So she struggled through it, and got her garden going.

But I still wouldn't go onto the deck.

The mosquitoes had a field day in the drowning pots, and the yellow jackets took over the rusting barbecue. I joked that the only thing that was missing was some hunks of automobiles.

But you can't keep the Beast down for long; she gets restless. And something about the situation with Cricket made me finally get mad at everything; the whole situation with the Scrub, all of it. I needed to take back the deck. I think it's because I let it all go last summer... I wasn't careful at all. I let my guard down and my defenses weak. But this time, I was careful; this time even though I recognized feelings, and recognized that feelings had been around a LONG time... once I finally let them out and was told it wasn't quite mutual made it easier to shut it all down and lock it up. So I shut it all down. Last summer I held out for hope, I believed in the power of a feeling. This summer? Fuck it. You don't have to tell me twice. Despite the fact that I think you're full of shit, despite the fact things were flowing, despite the fact that things got produced because there WAS a connection... you don't feel what I feel so fuck it. If I think about it, I could point out all the ways I see your logic is wrong. If I wanted to, I could make a damn good case. But what's the point? Shut it down.

And I'm taking back my deck and not sharing it with just anybody.

We started with just picking up garbage... balls that had been bounced off the deck into neighbor's yards and flung back up, leaves, cracked pots, the old basketball hoop (not one of SD's brighter ideas since the deck wasn't big enough to dribble a ball on, and one good bounce and balls ended up in neighbor's yards), a shredded tarp or two.

Today, UN went out to see her mom in the nursing home and brought back all these flowers from the garden nursery that's close by... there had been a buy one get one free sale. And she brought me lots of purple and orange flowers, the names of which I forget; and red petunias and pepper and tomato plants. Then she took me food shopping--foodstamps came today. I used them all. I'd had nothing in the house.

I needed dirt... some of the dirt was just tired, or hopelessly overcome, so she got me dirt. And then CNC called up saying she was sending some of the guys at her electrical contracting job to my house. They fixed the dimmer in the living room, the switch in UN's kitchen, installed IKEA lights in my bedroom and ran a line to bring light onto the deck. So now I have a fixture out there. It won't be pitch-ass black when folks (the ones I allow on my deck) come to sit. Although it was nice sitting in the dark... but I digress.

While I was working, I wondered why this one was easier to shut down. It doesn't hurt any less. If I thought about it hard enough I could cry but I won't allow myself. I'm not trying to convince anymore people of anything. Even if I think they're wrong. Even if I know that if they opened themselves to step outside of what they knew, they would see what I see. Cuz that's been the problem with me all along, my whole life. I can look at something and see so clearly how it would benefit someone to try.... go someplace they've never been, do something they've never done. Just once. And some people just refuse. And it's not worth trying to convince them. I see it... it hurts so much that they don't. I hurt for them, at the loss they don't even know they're suffering. I know, why should I? It's not hurting them, any, right? But it's the way I'm built. The shit I'm doomed to carry. But I'm not trying to convince anybody anymore. OK, fuck it. You don't get it. You don't feel it. You won't try it. Your loss. Mine, too... but I'll get over it. Cuz there will never be another Black August.

So, what's left is to finish rearranging pots, plant a few more things. Try to clean off the couch cushions again, create a "Zen" corner with the old Buddha that's still holding on, put a rug under the dining area, break down the old barbecue and set up the new one, put up the umbrella...

...underneath it all there's an ache, and a loss... there's stuff I'm missing but...

...I'm going to break out the beer and the barbecue and live my life wholeheartedly and to the best of my ability... cuz the truth is I honestly don't see the point of living any other way.

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

and the point of the last post was....

...a preface to the current re-affirmation to myself:

I will live my life wholeheartedly. To the best of my ability. That includes feeling and loving and supporting, or crying, or hoping.

And I'm not going to be a "hater".

That doesn't make me a sucker, or a martyr... and I will not tolerate being taken for granted. I will give what I give wholeheartedly, even if it means I hurt afterwards. Even if it gives the dishonest a chance to take without giving back. Cuz once I find out, once I pull it back you won't get it again. I do have limits... I do get tipped past the edge and when I do you can't bring me back.

But I'm not going to stop giving, and I won't stop believing, and I won't stop being hopeful. Because if I do, what then?

I will continue to be positive, to be encouraging, to think about things from another person's point of view BEFORE I trash them, badtalk them, dismiss them.

Because there are always several ways to look at something. The Family Court system has a mantra that there are three versions of the truth; yours, theirs, and what is. Six years of family court rubbed off on my everyday life, and it something I think about often.

It bothers me that folk are soooo quick to tear someone down... the Internet is full of bloggers trying to be journalists or critics, and really all they do is bash. Bash without provocation, bash to provoke, bash because they can, bash without understanding, bash without being constructive.

And that culture has spread to everyone.

But I'm not going to assimilate that.

If I have something to say about someone, I'll make sure till I get the facts. Make sure I understand what they were trying to do or say, and then decide how I feel about it.

I do that anyway... but today I re-affirm and recommit to that...

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

people are mean... this country. It's almost like a sport. See somebody flounder, or struggle, or show need... kick them when they're down.

I don't know if people always realize that that's what they're doing. Sometimes they don't... but I think for the most part they do know.

It took me FOREVER to say what I really felt; to express a need for something, a sadness, anger. I bottled up a lot of things. I had asthma as a kid. REALLY bad asthma until I began to figure out that a lot of it was emotional... if I was stressed out or blocking a feeling, I'd get "stuffy". I bottled up stuff and didn't say what I was feeling, and I lost friends, because they thought I was snotty or stuck up. I didn't like to ask for help. I still don't really. It hurts to ask for help when you really need it, and have folk turn you down. Especially when you know they are capable of helping. It hurts to tell someone how you feel and either have them not reciprocate, or worse, belittle the feeling. But it hurts worse to keep it inside.

So now, if I'm sad or hurting I say so. If I'm mad about something or at someone I try to express it. If I love you, I tell you. And I've learned about myself that there are times in my life when I am very needy. But there are other times in my life when I gather my legs under me and I fly and I don't need anybody. Life is a cycle.

I have found that the old song "Nobody knows you when you're down and out" is very true. It's OK to be down or needy for a little while... but when it gets drawn out or protracted people start getting nasty.

And it pisses me the fuck off. Because life can suck. And it can suck really bad. For really protracted amounts of time. And it doesn't mean you're not trying. It doesn't always mean you're lazy or not doing the right thing, or are trying to mooch.

No doubt, there are people who are habitual moochers. Perpetual whiners. People will definitely bleed you dry emotionally or financially sometimes. And you need to be strong enough to let those people go. But there are an awful lot of people who are genuinely doing the best they can and life is just sucking really bad. Who really aren't asking for anything other than understanding.

I've said before it doesn't cost anything to be kind, to love freely... and sometimes if someone expresses a feeling to you, all you really need to do is listen. Or say "I'm sorry you hurt".

To keep it all that hell inside of you is hurtful to you. I know. I know because I still struggle with keeping it in... I write a lot of it out, but there's still a lot inside there. I chip at it, break it down, analyze it, let it go. I feel better because of it. The voices aren't NEARLY as loud as they were two or three years ago, when I first started writing. They aren't nearly as mean...

I know I put a lot "out there". Sometimes it's the same feeling, over and over and over. I know what I put out... I know what I'm writing. I know, because I go back and read what I write. I compare what I'm feeling today versus how I felt two years ago on this day. Or three. And overall, I'm clearer. My soul quieter.

But it hurts still, when I put a feeling out... and I get back a snide comment. Or a "suck it up". Or a flippant remark. And it hurts when I put out a feeling, and it's stepped on. It hurts when I know I've been struggling a while over something and folk start to disappear. But fuck you. I've decided that my own inner health is more important to me than your need to step on it. I'm sorry maybe you think you're carrying me too long, that maybe you think I'm not carrying my own weight. I know where I am now. But I know where I've been... and because I write and I know I'm clearer, I know where I'm going. And when I get there the people who were kind and patient... those are the folk I remember. The rest of them will kiss my ass.

And at the same time, I try to look out for those folk who hurt, who suffer. Because I know there is no set expiration date on pain. It just doesn't go away because you think it's been "X" amount of time. I do believe that it's your responsibility in life to always keep trying, keep moving, keep swimming. If you're beat down, you get back up. You try again. Never give up, never surrender. And when folk are kind to you and help you up... you thank them. You pay them back, or pay it forward.

I know it's hard when you hurt, and people lose interest in you, lose faith. I know sometimes they will tell you "Trust in God" and "Put it on the Lord", and I know it can seem a remote concept if you're not devoutly Christian. I know, cuz I'm not devoutly Christian. Matter of fact, I'm NOT Christian. But I do believe in a Higher Power, and I do know (S)He hears you when you ask. And if you read this, and you're still hurting or suffering, I do encourage you to try God... in your own heart. Talk to Him. Write your pain to Him somewhere. Go listen to some Baptist Gospel music. It works... because nobody can take the load of all that pain better than He can. You do feel better... I encourage you to try every weapon in your power... and the Higher Power is a mighty weapon--if you believe. Human beings are fallible, and can't always carry the load. They are only human afterall.

The other night, sitting in the memorial service for my M&A fam, in that huge place filled with music, I watched the faces of the family, distraught with grief, particularly his nieces and nephews. And I watched how the united power of voices in song and a belief in the power of Mightier Hand nearly blew the roof off the place. The combined voices of a couple of hundred people singing in harmony, clapping for God, stomping and shouting brought out a power you could see. The walls almost rippled. A power you could feel... a power that can heal...

It doesn't matter that I'm not Baptist, or that I feel the same or worship the same or differently than others. The point is, you take that healing power wherever you find it. When you're feeling weak or sad or small, you make use of every weapon you can to feel better... because people are cruel. They are short-tempered and short-patienced, and will give up on you long before God will. You do find, as you go through life, that there will be a few "ride or dies" to stick by you when you're down. And they come from the oddest of places... but sometimes it takes a while to find them and in the meantime you hold on to God, to yourself... keep believing and hoping, keep putting your true feelings out there. It hurts to put it out, I know... but it hurts much worse to keep it in.

Monday, July 6, 2009

Another "Sun" gone...

...another parent is burying their offspring. It seems such a terrible terrible thing.

About a week ago, terrible news rippled through the Crackbook community; that one of my HighSchool family had passed on. I didn't recognize the name at all, but I was saddened by the realization that the person was younger than I am. By a few years.

I realized after a bit he was someone who's path I had crossed... and recently. I even had a photo of him that I had taken at one of our Reunion Chorus' rehearsal. A handsome man with a beautiful voice, he'd sung with our Reunion Chorus a few weeks ago, and after the show as I gathered my things and walked off stage I'd seen him backstage. He flashed me a huge smile.

But then it rippled through the community that he was our respected leader's "boo" and my heart broke. So I went to the musical service tonight... largely because we were asked to sing there. But I was glad, because I wanted to be able to give our leader some support.

The service--billed as a "musical memorial" with the funeral being the next day--was out in Bed Stuy, Brooklyn, a place mostly unfamiliar to me. I found my way out there, meeting Shoefly on a subway platform to drop off the Sun and Moon. In Brooklyn two hours later, I ran into another chorus member as we came up the subway steps. We walked to the church together.

The church-- a Baptist Tabernacle--had a very plain, white front and appeared to house a small storefront church. But when you walked in through the front door it opened up into a cavernous space, complete with huge stage and crystal chandeliers. I mean huge. And the place was packed. Turns out the place used to be a movie theater way back in the day.

The music... I couldn't describe the music. You had to have been there. And the man had sung with everyone... kept in touch with everyone... and they all turned out to see him home. Some big name stars too. Our chorus sang "The Lord's Prayer" to honor him and out of the audience came alumni from the school... including an actress currently starring in an off-Broadway musical... to sing with us. It gave you goosebumps. It made you want to jump up and down. It made you want to cry... for the loss of someone loved so much, but it filled you with joy, too.

I looked around... many many many gay men and women... and it made me think about the relationship between the gay community and African American Baptist churches. There has always been the tradition of openly-gay-but-not folk in the church. All through high school as I participated in the chorus, sang with them, traveled throughout the city with them... we always knew who was gay. No one ever said. But no one ever hid, either.

So it strikes me as a tad hypocritical when churches... particularly Baptist churches, talk about the Prop 8 issue, and that marriage should be between men and women.

I wrote about my own struggle and my own feelings about that issue elsewhere on this blog. I still think about it, about what the definition of "marriage" means to me. And I still think that traditionally, its between men and women. But at the same time it broke my heart to know how much our chorus leader is suffering with the loss of his love, his "roommate". And I think it's ridiculous that no one could openly say "I'm so sorry". Yet everyone did. I think it completely unfair that whatever life these men shared is over, done... as if it never existed as far as the rest of the world is concerned. And I do think that needs to change...

I hugged him hard, our chorus leader. He was so strong tonight, the music holding him together. But I had spoken with someone earlier in the week who said he was simply broken; he couldn't stop crying.

The young man who passed, his father called up his son's "friend" and said "I don't care what you all say, I don't care what you think... this man was my son's best friend..." and we all clapped.

It was some kind of evening... for me it's turned into early morning and the world prepares to watch the funeral of Michael Jackson. But I'll be thinking of other folk out there in Bed Stuy...

Sunday, July 5, 2009

Oh, you meant EVERY day...

...I'm trying to do that "write every day on your blog for a month thing".

The last time I did anything like this was a few years ago when I tried to draw something every day in May. oooooh that was hard. I failed at that.

So I'm trying to write every day at the end of the day. Trouble is my day ends really late. And then I wonder what I'm going to say. I end up just writing about my day. And my days right now are pretty mundane...

Today wasn't so bad, though. I met the coolest people. Well... I met them at the Sun's end-of-year/meet-the-new-kids Family Picnic. They'd won a raffle in which I'd donated a family portrait session as a prize. I donated in exchange for the Sun's camping trip... the school paid for it cuz I couldn't.

Anyway. I "redeemed" the prize today, and met them in the park. As we talked, and even later when I looked them up, it was revealed we had much in common. She's an alumni of my High School... an instrumental major who switched to voice. Goth (which I'm not, though I have latent tendencies in that direction), tattooed (check), red streaks (check--though hers were RED), from the City--not an import (check), had lived in Paris (check), used to hang out on the Rock (I live here), and had a cute Latino hubby (mmm well I don't have one of those, though the last few guys I've had any kind of a feeling for were all Latino).

He also was cool... grew up in the Bronx, mainly the South Bronx by Yankee Stadium (I almost asked him if he knew Nene and fam... but that would be like asking someone if you knew somebody from Harlem just cuz you're black), purple streaks in his hair. A lip ring. When I asked him what he did, he said "accountant" which threw me. Turns out I should have asked him "what are you/what do you do for money?" cuz I found out later he was an illustrator. SVA. Working as an accountant.

sigh. Being an artist really sucks.

But they made a great family. I should be so lucky. The picture above is the more traditional of the ones I took... but I'll give them the honor of picking the one they want to represent their family.

Afterwards, since I was right there, I went to see Poppy in the rehab. When I got to his room, he wasn't there. His roommate was though... and the roommate never does or says much but today he asked me to come into his curtained area and pull his TV closer. He NEVER asks things like that when Poppy is in the room. Nobody ever comes to see him. I told the Professor later he looks forward to our visits. He certainly got his visit on today... but it was alright, poor thing.

Poppy was in the dining room, watching the ballgame. Another "inmate" was at a table on the other side of the room, smelling like poop, his legless limbs propped up on the table. A double-amputee. I told Poppy I was going with the Professor to Trader Joe's on 14th but that we'd be back for him. I think he'd thought we'd leave him there but I knew that wouldn't have been a pleasant trip for him. But I also knew we'd be back... he needed a reprieve from that place.

I love Poppy. I hate that place. I know the Professor is freaking out cuz he's scheduled to be released in a few weeks, and we still haven't found a suitable place for him to come home to. I do have faith the right place will show itself at the right time.

After Trader Joe's we came back for Poppy, and the Professor drove me home. I haven't been able to sleep, and the Louis Armstrong tribute Poppy had on the radio, and the comfort of family put me right to sleep... and MoodMagic Barbie too... her head heavy on my shoulder.

When I got home to the Rock, the Sun and I went for a bikeride at sunset. We had a great time and it feels good to put on a little speed. My kid is funny too... very competitive and it pisses him off my bike is bigger and faster than mine. Every so often I race him just to piss him off.

So it wasn't a bad day.

But... I haven't heard anything from the Cricket since I told him off a few days ago. He pissed me off. For a whole lot of reasons, and the more I think about them, the more valid those reasons are to me. I'm a stickler for details. I'm a holder of promises. I'm faithful and loyal to a fault, and I try my best to keep my word. I have a lot of faults, but I don't lie... and if I ask for honesty, I want it. Though I realize it means folk must be honest with themselves first. And I try to be honest in return. So I'm pissed cuz he's a man, and he's a little egotistical which means he does what's good for him, but mostly because he was being a little dishonest. And I don't like being taken for granted. I'm tired of it. I am extremely forgiving... I let a lot of things go. But it doesn't do me any good. I let so much go for so long... and it's gotten me nothing. But... I miss hearing from him and miss trading thoughts but I don't miss wondering if I matter. And I'm annoyed at the thought he may be too wimpy to continue the partnership despite the personal, like I am. That would suck and require a lot of plan-changing. But I'll do it if I have to... cuz that thing has to work.

I miss the Scrub, too. I miss him because a year ago this time Major Tom was completely lost in space, floating in a little tin can, far above the world. It was scary... and I knew I was going to burn up on re-entry and boy did I. I miss him because he felt like home... he knew Harlem as well as I do, and felt comfortable there like I do, and wasn't afraid to go downtown like I am. But I don't miss all the other baggage and freakshows that came with him. And there were a bunch.

Poppy, who reads the blog, asked how come I don't join a dating club. FatLady had asked me that too, the other night. Why I didn't join one of those online things. But I have. Three of them, as a matter of fact. Freakshows, all of them.

I'm good. Like we say in the hood "I'll be 'aite". I'll figure it out. Or not. I'll just concentrate on me. Life was a lot simpler when I didn't date at all...