All in a Simple Day

Today was one of those days where you are just so happy to be alive.  Not because anything great happened overnight... but because nothing bad did.  I decided to sleep in and woke up at ten... and the birds were chirping and I could hear a locust or two in the distance, but without the humidity and dreariness... it was absolutely gorgeous outside.

I decided to make a day of going into town, about 45 minutes down the mountain.  The drive was spectacular... I was almost giddy, with puffy clouds, blue skies (see pic left) and the windows down, wind blowing through the truck... and Carrie Underwood on my Nano, it was perfect. When I say 'town', I mean a reasonable facsimile.  Of course there's a Wal-mart and a McDonald's and some other big-named stores, but for the most part, it's some mom-n-pops and a variety of Big Lots and every Dollar Store version you can think of.  So after perusing them all and treating myself to lunch and a ice cream cone, I stopped into the pet store where my friend Matt (we call him Paris, because he's the boy version of Paris Hilton) works, for some much-needed puppy therapy.  Being a full-service pet store, they had a gaggle of animals, including a giant turtle, some huge-ass fish, some kitties and some puppies.  One in particular, one of those usually ugly Chihuahua hairless freckled dogs, was actually adorable.

Sometimes it's the simple things that make a life that's rich and full. 

(With limited internet and phone, all the pics didn't download... but will follow in another post)

Ya Mama

I used to love this song... it was probably the first rap song, back in 1983...

Cha-Ching

I made it up to camp... we turned back around and drove down to the casino.  I was able to actually win some money and break even so it was a pretty good night... thanks also to the buffet.  Gambling can be such a downer... nothing says loser than when you attach a monetary value to it.

Heading to sleep now... hopefully sleeping in tomorrow past 7 a.m.

Golden

I'm not sure what we've done to deserve it, but it looks like we are in for a 7-day stretch of flawless weather... highs in the 70's and lows in the low 50's... perfect everything weather.  I'm heading to the Marriott to get a few things done today, but hope to be out of there around 1, throw some things together and head back to camp.  This is my big week/weekend as far as the massage business I have down there, and I should be busy.  Tonight, Scott and I are headed back to the casino/sideshow. 

I hope you all have a great 4th week/weekend, even my foreign friends... just look at it like if we have freedom and peace, then we won't be all up in your country's grill starting some shit. 

Laughter, The Best Medicine

It's bad enough when the escalator is stopped, but when they stair it up altogether, that's just plain cruel.

Does this come in a handy plenty pack?

I'm thinking of adding this to my menu of services as well... especially with some of my clients

This is what the statue of David would look like if the Italians lent it to the Americans for a week.

Nothing funny about this... just cute as hell

The arrow to the parking garage obviously was misunderstood

Specifics

Self-Justification System

While I'm sure that it sounds like a hoot-n-hollerin' weekend at gay camp, it's really a difficult situation sometimes.  I mean, it is a job for me, so I do spend a good amount of the time working.  And while I do get some down time, it's usually overshadowed with catching up with people or putting my face on to cultivate new business for myself or general customer service for the campground... answering questions, enduring sexual advances, chit-chatting about stuff that you really don't care about.  It's a lot of work. It makes you want to run for the... well, hills... some other hills, maybe.

When the general public suggests that this is a way of life that someone would choose, it burns me up.  And while I do choose to come to a gay campground to work, or I go to a gay parade or a circuit party, I can only embrace what goes along with the 'lifestyle' or not.  It's amazing what we as gay accept as commonplace... to see a drag queen in 5" heels or someone walking around nude or in underwear is no big deal... there's so much self expression that it sometimes becomes overload. While straight people make their mark with their kids, family or how many garages, it seems like the more individual that you try to make yourself be in the gay world, the better... but not always so.

Along with self-expression is self-indulgence.  It seems like gone are the days of monogamy... replaced by an 'anything goes' mind-set.  It also burns me up when I hear a couple stand on their laurels with their 15 year partnership, only to find out that 2 years into it, they've been having a free-for-all relationship or they are trying to get you into a three-some 5 minutes into a conversation.  It makes you either avoid people or expect the worse so as not to be disappointed, but it seems to always happen anyway.  Which poses the questions:  Is it good to be in a relationship with someone that you don't entirely want to be with, and is basic companionship worth it, void all the traditional pieces?  Is monogamy that important?  Is it a belief, an option or a goal?

For me, it is a way of life.  I don't want anyone else if I'm with someone that I have made a commitment.  I'm focused on them and our connection.  Which opens up a whole new line of questions:  Are gay men capable of a traditional relationship? Would straight people be able if it weren't for the legality of their bond or for the sake of the kids?  Are we all just fucked?

More and more, I'm becoming ok with being by myself.  I don't need to have someone in my life, but it would be nice. I have way too much respect for myself to accept less.  And being in relationships since I was 21, it's not getting any easier, whether due to the internet and all it brings or the decline of morals... regardless it doesn't look promising to find someone who just wants me.  With my strong morals and traditional ideals, it seems like I'm a rare breed. 

For the record, I wouldn't choose any of this. 

Uranus is Showing

Last night, we got to see the international space station fly over, 450 miles up at something like x times the speed of light.  It makes a full orbit of the earth in about an hour and a half.  5 times brighter than Venus, it's lit up solely by the refection of the sun.  He also pointed out Saturn and Uranus (which you can see every night at gay camp) and the constellations Leo and Virgo.  There's usually an education of some sort to be had at camp... who knew it would be the stars?

Mooning

This weekend's theme is Full Moon weekend... the campground has an observatory and one of the seasonals used to be a science teacher, so he has all these events when there's some planetary phenomenon.  With being on a mountaintop and with his powerful telescope, I've seen some amazing sights.  Normally, with it being so open and dark, you don't even need a telescope to see every star in the sky.

In conjunction with that, they offer a free drink in the bar if you show your 'full moon'.  This is a nice weekend to counteract my self-professed 'year of the weiner'... after my seminar in December, and I've decided to be a little more relaxed this year in an exercise of self-acceptance.

The picture was taken by my friend, Max, on his trip up here along the ridges... you can see the moon in the distance, slightly left of center.

(Sterling) Silver Lining

I get overwhelmed with a sense of guilt when I accidentally litter... maybe a gum wrapper falls out of my truck when I open the door up and blows across the parking lot and I wind up chasing it... or maybe when my tampon goes flying out the window and I wind up stopping and backing up (over it).  Point is, I hate littering, doing it or seeing it, especially cigarette smokers who fling their butt and don't think that is qualifies, but it does (with a $300 fine attached).  So it's very difficult for me, when I'm cutting grass to not pick up litter that I see... partly because I need all hands to continue what I'm doing and partly because the maintenance guys are supposed to do it but it would require them to pull their head out of their ass first to see it.

The other day, I was parking in the middle of the parking lot and pulled up next to a bag full of garbage.  Afraid that someone would see me blatantly not pick it up, I did.  Curiosity took over and I looked inside, expecting to see someone's leftover lunch or maybe an unwanted newborn, and I was surprised to see what was in there... 50 pieces of various silverware.  And upon further inspection, they were solid Sterling silver, and individually wrapped (like an unwanted newborn) in felt.  After asking several people if anyone reported them lost, I looked them up on the internet and they wound up being from a 1912 collection of Gorham silverware.  Banged up and tarnished, I decided to go the route of scrapping them and found a jeweler who does that.  When I realized that it weighted 69 ounces, the street value was $2,000, of which I was paid a little over $400 for my find (since they only pay out 20%)... I almost shit a brick (gold).

I never win anything... I wasn't born with a silver (Sterling or otherwise) spoon in my mouth and I'm not going to feel bad about my win.  Things happen for a reason... maybe I was rewarded for my litter congeniality.

Mommie Dearest to ABBA

This is a remix of some of the great scenes in Mommie Dearest focusing on the smacking of Christina.... it's absolutely hilarious... especially around the 4 minute mark.

YUM !! (Hats)

My Simple(ton) Life

Yesterday, after eating what equated to a small barnyard animal in volume, it kind of upset me when I looked at all I took in ( 3 McDonalds cheeseburgers, 1 large fries, 2 chocolate pies, 1 turkey/salami sandwich, 1 KFC chicken strip, 2 biscuits, 1 soft taco and drink 3 large iced coffees, 1 rootbeer pop, and 1 diet pepsi) to deal with my life.  It seems the more that I try to simplify my life, that only leaves more room for everyone else I know to dump their stuff on me.

My Aunt's faucet was dripping last week and, knowing how particular she is, I told her to go pick one up that she wanted and call me when she got it.  She left me a message last Wednesday and I called her twice on Thursday on my way to camp to try to tell her that I would take care of it this week, but her answering machine (yes, she still has one) didn't pick up.  So, yesterday, I went over there to put it in... figuring that it would be a quick job.  I forgot that she doesn't have air conditioning (or even a fan blowing) so, within ten minutes, I was drenched, but I got it in and it worked fine.  Later in the day, she called me back to tell me about her answering machine, so I went back to look at it and it was broken.  Of course, because she hates change of any kind, she wanted the same exact one.  Well, they barely make answering machines any more, let alone the one that she has from ten years ago, so she asked me to pick one up, which I will later on.  In the meantime, the drain wasn't working on the sink that I fixed, but I didn't touch that part of the mechanism, so I don't know what's up with that... I'll have to look at it when I bring the answering machine over and spend 14 hours trying to explain it to her.  It's always something.

My friend Anna had hanging baskets on her porch that were dying, and she asked me, while I was there doing work on the swamp, to 'bring them back to life', as if I could resurrect them like I was J.C., himself or Mother Nature.  I couldn't figure out why they were dying and went about my business planting flowers and bushes and continuing to clear the brush from the waterfall area, making it look like the jungle that it is rather than the swamp that it was.  I picked up the watering can and there was a little bit left in the can, so I looked in and at the bottom was a very little bit of water with what looked to be a half cup of  MiracleGrow.  For those of you that know, the ratio is about a half teaspoon per 2 gallon watering can, so the mystery was solved... the bitch burnt the roots of the flowers with too much MiracleGrow.  The problem was that now, she had to replace them before the graduation party that she's hosting this Sunday, so it became my problem, like the faucet and the answering machine.

I then went to my cousin Kelley's to help her with her yard... she's a photographer... and to make a long story short, she wanted to make the outside of her house look like an Olan Mills studio, complete with the barnyard fence, trellis and gazebo, all spread out in her 1/4 acre yard amongst the weeds that didn't cross her mind to pull.  So, needless to say, my bitch-ass will be building some fences after July 4th.

I didn't grow up being handy.  My Dad and Uncle were, and I guess I inherited the ability to reason and the nerve to try doing things myself.  Over time, having owned two houses, I have renovated kitchens and bathrooms, done drywall, painting, electrical, plumbing and two dozen other things... mainly learning from the people at Home Depot and reading.  I have purposely down-sized my life so that I don't have to deal with things, and I don't mean to elevate myself to a level far superior to those not priviledged with logic, but I seriously have to wonder how these people in my life would get along if I weren't around... which I am dangerously close to not being (around, that is)... especially if the vicious circle of stress and eating continues for me...

I have this fantasy of hitching up a travel trailer to my truck, getting a dog... dropping my Dad of at Shady Pines Rest Home and hitting the open road, tossing my phone out the window before I hit I-79.  One can dream, right?

Garbage Truck

This is the car that was parked next to mine at the casino last week.... just totallly filled up with garbage except for the driver's seat... there's nothing I can even say about this... it's just unbelievable.

Boiling Point

I have met some great people at camp this year... one being my new friend, Scott.  He works there but is from Columbus.  We've gotten to know each other and we have a lot in common.  One of those things is that, when mad, we start cleaning.  I have done this since I was little and, in fact, I totally believe that my Mom picked fights with me just to get me to clean parts of the house.  If I'm having a heated argument, I instinctively start rearranging things or cleaning and he does the same thing (as observed when he was mad about something this weekend).

After what happened with my brother yesterday and me finding out that my Dad gave him money over the last week... I came home from work today to find that my Dad had ran the sweeper on the carpets throughout the house.  I don't know if he was venting anger... or he was afraid that I was going to vent on him... but if that's how I can get him to stop watching The Price is Right and do something, then it looks like I'm going to pick more fights with him.

I called my brother's work today knowing full well that he wouldn't be there, but I wanted to see if he still had a job, and he does, so that's good.  He's staying with someone, but I tried calling the half-way house to see if they said he's not coming back.  He's supposed to be taking a pee test to see if he was using.  If not, I guess they'll let him back in.  Meanwhile, on top of the $400, my Dad gave him another $45 to stay with this person because my brother wants to be 'fair' to the person (who I think is his girlfriend, which basically means that he took the money to buy drugs, since if it was your girlfriend and she charged you to stay, I'd be way over that person.  I love how he's so fair with everyone but his own family... and with someone else's money.

Today's grass cutting wasn't as angry as I thought it was going to be, but it was unbearably hot and I got more tan that I didn't need.  I have to fix my Aunt's faucet early in the morning and have a few projects to do throughout the day.  I hope to get a few things out of the way before I head back down to camp on Thursday.

Klunk

Origin of the saying waiting for the other shoe to drop:

A man comes in late at night to a lodging house, rather the worse for wear. He sits on his bed, drags one shoe off and drops it on the floor. Guiltily remembering everyone around him trying to sleep, he takes the other one off much more carefully and quietly puts in on the floor. He then finishes undressing and gets into bed. Just as he is drifting off to sleep, a shout comes from the man in the room below: “Well, drop the other one then! I can’t sleep, waiting for you to drop the other shoe!”.

This is basically how my life goes with my brother.  When he gets himself together and appears to not be on drugs, we try to be supportive in his direction.  All the while, not bringing up all that he has done to get him to where he is, all the friends and people in his life that he has lost as a result of screwing them over, all the money he has pissed away and specifically, all that he has lied to us about, stolen from us and us being in the fallout from his path of destruction, basically left to pick up the pieces... somehow processing our own feelings toward him and all that he has done that we are left with dealing, again, on our own... trying not to derail him from his spurt, knowing full well that it will end at any given moment.  This is the moment.

Last night, after a great week of personal progress and a great weekend, I got a call from him and for no good reason (of course) they are throwing him out of the halfway house because they suspect he is doing drugs again... something that I started suspecting about a week ago when I found out that he owed my Dad $300 (now $400) that we obviously will never see.  This whole process has been a cycle that has been going on for the last ten plus years and one that will never end unless one of them passes away.  And while it's easy for people to say 'don't give him the money', 'don't let him in', or 'forget about him'... the process isn't half as exhausting as the notification or knowledge that he has fallen off again.  It's a disappointment that knocks the life out of me... for the very basic reason that it's all going to start up again.  For nine months, things seemed to be quiet and dealing with the financial fallout was taxing enough... now having to deal with wondering what he's doing and where he will strike (like did he go to the other house and break in and sleep there last night?) is as uneasy as having a baby and wondering what they're putting in their mouth when you turn your head.

Sadly, I'm already at a high pressure point with dealing with fallout... this isn't going to help.  My post-weekend mind clearing grass cutting routine today will be filled with 8 hours of pushing a lawn mower in the 90 degree heat fuming over this and dealing with the rage that I have for my family... a fight that I have to have in my head since talking to my brother and nephew will result in pushing me to a level of anger that I don't want to see if I am capable of and on deaf ears when it comes to my Dad.  I am tired.

Simplicity For A Complex Price

As I previously stated, the trip to the casino the other night was full of interesting things and people.  One of them was the bathroom hand dryer.  Who would have thought that amongst people with no teeth, smoking cigarettes while pushing their oxygen tanks and display after display of bad 80's fashion in the hollows of West Virginia would be the most cutting edge, technologically-advanced bathroom dryers. 

Considering the area, I'm sure that washing their hands is not high on their list of must-do's.  Like a beautiful little girl at a monastery, these things were obsolete and useless in their surroundings .  Using a thin band of jet air, you stick your hands in and pull them out and it works kind of like a squeegee, boasting dry hands in 12 seconds.  I can't imagine what these things cost, considering they are made by Dyson, a company that, while providing interesting designs for things, charges a lot of money for their technology.  If I had $700 to pay for one of their vacuum cleaners, I would just get a maid instead.  And I recently saw that their new thing is a blade-less fan operating much the same with the band of air... and they are only a mere $300 at Bed, Bath and Beyond... one of the first indicators that shit is going to cost a lot of money if they're selling it.  Again, if I had $300 for a fan, I'd have some cute boy (18 years or older, but not much) fanning me with a palm frond, feeding me grapes or some shit.

Who knew that the bathroom of the Wheeling Island Casino could be so edgy.  Stay tuned for pics of the car that was parked in the lot next to me truck that just made my jaw drop to the ground.

I'd Give You The Shirt Off My Back, But It's My Last One...

I got down to camp yesterday, after riding in my sufficiently-cool (with new air conditioner) truck, unpacked and then had to get ready to go back down the hill to Wheeling for a night out on the town to the casino.  Filled with West Virginia yocals smoking their cartons of cigarettes, betting their rent money on the hopes of fortune and obviously not having paid any attention to their jacked-up, dried-out hair or outfit, it's still a good time out (back to the 80's).  Just so you know, there are still stone-washed jeans as staples of some people's fashion collection.  We all lost money (I lost $60), but we did get to eat a fantastic buffet.  One of the nice things about the casino is that they had a self-serve, complimentary pop station set up, and I was bound and determined to drink my $60 loss off, getting my money's worth.

While I was getting ready, I knew that I wouldn't have to put too much energy into my outfit to stand out in the crowd, but I did want to take a shower and put on a fresh shirt... thinking, wouldn't that be nice.  So I went to the closet and it suddenly hit me (although it took what seemed like 4 minutes to process)... I had left all my shirts bunched in the closet and forgot to bring them.  This isn't the first time that I did this... last year I did the same thing.  Fortunately, my friend George lives 2 minutes from my house and usually comes down Friday night, so he's able to coincide with my Dad to get them and bring them down.  Last time, however, despite the shirts being bunched together with gaps on either sides on the rack... he managed to grab my landscaping shirts... all stained and torn.  This time, I was a little more explicit with my Dad as to which shirts he was supposed to get from the closet, so I made him tell me what some of the shirts were, thinking he'd tell me the colors.  Instead he started reading me some of the shirts... the first one was a graphic of two mostly naked guys wrestling with the heading "Stiff Competion".  Fortunately, it didn't register with him... and I stopped him before he got to the next ones, which was "Flex for Sex" followed by "Plow Boy".  Glad I didn't plan to bring the one that says "Park-n-Ride".  So we'll see if those actually make it here.  Although it seems like a simple exchange, everything with my Dad is complicated.

Needless to say, I've been wearing the same shirt for a day and a half (just like the gamblers in the casino)... but I'll be at the pool all day, so I'm fine until they get here later today.

Sigh

I'm off to pick up my truck... it's supposedly all fixed and I saved $300.  I'm headed to camp after that (a day early)... it's been a stressful week.  Time to breathe.

YUM !!

Ups and Downs

Some days are like a give and take.... it gives you a few things, but then takes some away as well.  The morning started out nicely... I got a response from Dave, the guy from camp.  And although he's not anywhere near being ready for a relationship, much less someone who lives 3.5 hours away and has just as much going on, it started my day off with warm fuzzies. 

I dropped my truck off to have the air conditioner fixed (at least 4 hours labor) and decided rather than sit at Barnes and Noble all day long, I had my Dad pick me up and bring me home.  I was able to do some laundry and organize my desk a bit, then left to do some running around and met with Julie and her family for lunch.  Meanwhile, on my way from there to the Marriott to pick up my check, I rode past my truck (still sitting in the same spot 8 hours later).  I called to check up on it and they put me on hold and then disconnected me without giving me any update.

At the Marriott, the audit was yesterday and today and Anna informed me that for the first time, they received a 98% which is the highest that the auditor has ever given out and was the highest they ever received in the history of the hotel.  Taking into consideration the complete outside of the building, every room, public area, kitchen area, etc... every square inch is up for inspection.  It's an amazing feat and everyone should be so proud.  It's a wonderful end to the months of hard work, and I can finally take a deep breath and sigh. 

On top of that good news, I get a call from Pep Boys asking me how important it is that they didn't start my truck and did I need it back tonight.  After taking a whole day waiting... I don't even know where they get the balls to ask that.  I gave them the go ahead for the job two weeks ago to get the parts in and scheduled the appointment a week ago... and here it is, 6 p.m. and they are just starting.  So hopefully they will have it done tomorrow by noon.  Totally unacceptable, but there's no sense getting any more pissed about it.  I'll leave for camp after I get my truck back.

It's a beautiful day outside... big bouncy clouds and lots of sun.  Good times.

UPDATE:  As of 9 p.m., they called back and in an odd twist of fate, the problem wasn't what they thought it was (the guy: "I've never seen this before")... they were able to fix the problem simply, saving me $300, but they still kept the truck overnight to see if the air conditioner would hold the charge.  I'll know tomorrow morning.  Meanwhile, I'll be having dreams of icy cold air conditioning while heading to camp tomorrow.

Killer Movie

Lately, there's been a drought in Hollywood for good movies and we've missed a few Tuesday night movie nights for one reason or another... so tonight, we went to see Killers with Ashton Kutcher and Katherine Heigl.  I read the reviews (which have been harsh for every movie lately) and they weren't that good, but sometimes you have to see for yourself.  I wasn't expecting much from it ahead of time and I turned out to be pleasantly surprised... we all were.  I'm not going to go into the whole plot (you can watch the trailer), but it was just the right amount of pretty girl, rock-hard abs boy, spectacular scenery, funny, romantic, espionage, spy, blah blah blah to make it very entertaining and laugh-out-loud hilarious.  Catherine O'hara as the drunk mom stole the show. Its a combination of True Lies and Mr. and Mrs. Smith, mixed in with every role that Katherine and Ashton played.  If you're looking for an hour and a half of laughing and getting your mind off other things, this is the movie for you.  I would go see it again, it was that entertaining.

Meandering Through Life

The only thing that my biological mother went through more than men was addresses.  I can only assume that I got the 'wandering jew' gene from her, having moved over 35 times in my 43 years of life.  I have always had this incessant need to be 'on the move' and looking for change.  The idea of getting in the car and heading for nowhere in particular is such a deep-seated trait of mine that, sometimes, it drives me crazy... but that is when I am at my most happiest.  With my move to Vegas, I don't know if I was more excited about the drive across the country or the actual move and new experience.  Both were titillating.  I can't explain what it is exactly that  I enjoy so much... maybe not having a plan... maybe seeing new things... watching new people... experiencing life?  I'm not sure, but it's in my veins.  The idea of hooking up a trailer to my pickup truck... getting a dog and heading for the open road is as natural to me as the sense of a permanent home to another.

I've done quite a bit of traveling in my life... but no trip represents my need for adventure more than my trip to Paris sometime around 2000.  Working for SAP, a world-wide software company as a Project Manager, I was chosen as the representative for North and South America in a global task force to unify and better our human resources and benefits modules.  The central location for the world seemed to be Paris, so off I went.  Fortunately, I only had less than an 8 hour day of meetings, and the rest of the time, I had to explore, and boy did I.

Having taken three years of French in high school, I had somewhat of an idea of the language.  The French can be very unforgiving and particularly, on Americans.  I chose to stay in the La Defense area of town (one of the newer, modern areas with interesting buildings, including the modern arch building in the picture), far north of the city, up the Champs-Élysées, the main and most prestigious avenue in Paris.  After, I  got off of the plane and found my way to the hotel (at around 8 a.m. with time change), I looked out the window, and I could see the Eiffel Tower in the distance and thought... 'that looks pretty close, I'll just walk over there and check it out'... my meeting was the next day and I didn't want to waste the first day sleeping after my long flight.  It was April, I think, and it was one of those chilly days where the wind went right through you... and there were huge black clouds looming overheaad, but rain never fell.

Put me behind the wheel of a car and I have a great sense of direction and can find my way, no problem.  With the language barrier, I was afraid to ask directions or try to figure out signs or the subway.  So I started walking... I mean, it was right there... how far could it be.  Plus, it would give me the chance to meander through the streets... perhaps have a croissant at a petite boulangerie and take in some of the local color.  Streets in Paris are not straight shots.  They're all bendy and shit and the buildings are mostly 4 or 5 stories tall... so you can lose your way fairly easily.  7 hours later, I finally reached the Eiffel Tower near dusk... cold, damp and having not eaten much, again afraid to ask any one.  Sadly, surrounded by all of that, I found a McDonald's, and ate there.

Practically a local (after that ordeal), the next day, I got a little smarter.  I took the subway down to Notre Dame and La Louvre and mulled around downtown, no longer a little American boy in a big city, but I was now taking on the persona of Jean-Davide, un homme cosmopolitan.  The last day, I took the subway to the same area, but walked up to Basilique du Sacré Cœur, a cathedral high above the streets on Montmartre, the highest point in the city and an area known for it's street performers and artists.  Not being a religious person, the experience was truly biblical...  Moseying through up-and-coming artists painting scenes of the city...  mimes... organ-grinders... interpretive dancers... and the beautiful cathedral and spectacular view of the whole city... absolutely magical.

Having learned about some of these places in class in high school, I never thought that I would find myself sipping a coffee looking out on it all.  When I think of some of the people that I know who have never left Pittsburgh, I feel sad and claustrophobic all at the same time.  Some of my friends would rather spend $100 on tennis shoes... I'd rather be behind the wheel or on-foot, exploring what the world has to offer... and while I need those tennis shoes to walk through my journeys, they'll be worn out and thrown out, and the experiences that I had will last a lifetime.

Growing

The last couple of days have been good towards my personal progress.... I made it to the gym for the first time in over a year and I'm heading there today... I ran into Jesse (my ex) and rather than fall to pieces, I was able to process the situation, realize that it's a toxic situation and avoid further analyzation, angst and meeting up with him.  And yesterday, at the Marriott, after an 11 hour day of finishing up stuff for the audit today, the pressure washing company made an absolute mess, splattering all that mud all over the flowers, mulch, trees, bushes and rocks, and I was able to just shake my head and walk away.  In the past, I would have stayed for another 4 hours until dark fixing it... but since I warned them that would happen and questioned the logic of doing that mid-day the day before the audit and everyone still left to go home at 6, I figured why should I have diarreah over it when no one else gives a shit (runny or not)?  So I left.

Working through personal walls or handicaps is a great feeling.  I'm happy that I'm the kind of person that analyzes these things in my life and I'm able to make progress towards a healthier (be it physical or mental) me.  And since I put my shit out here for everyone to see rather than carry it around inside, I find that it helps me to hold myself to that personal progress when it's in clear view.  On the downside, it does make me look like a crazy bitch, verbalizing what others only think and process in their heads.

5K, Going Strong

In January, after almost a year of blogging, I surpassed 1000 hits on my blog... so it's pretty incredible that a few short months later (and considering two name changes and losing so many readers with the change) that I just reached 5000 hits.  As always, I appreciate you sharing my life, interests and stories on a daily basis as well as your support and comments.