December 1 World Aids Day

June or 2011 will mark the 30th anniversary of the first reported cases of HIV/AIDS.  The first of December is dedicated to raising awareness of the the pandemic that, since 1981, has killed more than 25 million people... and an estimated 30 million are living with HIV.  With proper education, medication and raised awareness, the cases have gone down, especially in the gay community, which proves this is not a 'gay disease'.  This is everyone's disease and everyone's responsibility.  Know the facts and know your status.   There are many friends and family that have fallen before us.  Respect their fight, but don't become them.

Gone Too Soon was sung by Michael Jackson for his friend, the young Ryan White who contracted HIV and subsequently died from AIDS...

You Can Be A Yinzer, Too

I know there's some of you out there that feel slighted that you can't be a Yinzer from Pittsburgh, so I added a weather widget and a weather webcam under the visitor counter in the right column.  It's pointed at Point State Park, downtown.  Of course, you're not going to see anything at night (duh).  Now you can feel just like one of the Jagoffs from dahntahn in da 'burgh.  The picture shown was from the fireworks show on light up night this year, when all the office buildings turn their lights on in celebration of the holiday season.

Tots With Little Wieners

Before you call 911 and send out an Amber alert like I'm some pedophile (from the posting title)... read on...

It's so miserable outside... pouring down rain like it's never going to stop.  I had some running around to do today and wasn't feeling that great, so I bagged the movie for tonight in favor of just heading home and getting into bed and watching TV.  One of the stops was the grocery store and I was in the mood for tater tots, so I picked up some of those and cooked them.  While the oven was on, I had a tube of poppin-fresh crescent rolls from Thanksgiving dinner that we didn't use, and wanted to use them up... so I wrapped them around some little wieners.  I tell you, I felt like I was at a swanky wedding or something.  I almost went and put my fancy ballcap on and a fresh gray t-shirt and cargo shorts.  You gotta love a little wiener... they taste so good, just popping one in your mouth.  It's hot in here... or is that the heat from the oven?

My programs (pronounced 'progrums') have been all screwed up between the holiday and football.  It's been all repeats.  On top of that, one of the batteries in my remote control leaked acid and made it mentally challenged... if you pressed something, it wouldn't react until three seconds later.  Or it had ADD... if you didn't press the keys fast enough, it forgot what it was supposed to do and went back to what it was doing.  And I was fresh out of remote Ritalin, so I had to get a replacement today.  Is this how it's going to be with television now... with your sporty-sports spectaculars and your little house on the prairie christmas fantasticos?  You can keep it all... just give me back my Grey's Anatomy and Desperate Housewives.  Why do the gays always have to have some sort of hardship from the straighties?

Transference

I've never been one for making goals, although I do believe in them as a way to achieve things.  For goals to be a possibility for me, I think that would have to imply that I have any sort of control over my life which rarely seems to be the case.  Day after day, it seems that all I do is put out other people's fires while my problems simmer perpetually like embers in a fire.  I have had much more luck with a milestone approach, getting from one point to the next... somewhat like rocks in a creekbed, jumping from one to the next, trying to get across.  With a constant barrage of things coming at me with every phone call and being somewhat a sociophobe, I hate to plan in advance.  As I get older, I notice that, because of this, I seek out and desire solitary activities, like my drives or my puzzles.  In a strange juxtaposition, even going to Barnes and Noble is a solitary act, even though I'm surrounded by people (that I don't have to talk to).  I have noticed also that with my milestones, it's not so much the physical nature of the item (as with Xmas... cooking, having to buy presents, putting a tree up), but, rather, the emotional nature of the item (being depressed with the loss of family in the month of December, avoiding social situations like having to visit, etc.).

I'm really proud of the things that I have been able to accomplish and move forward lately.  Some pretty major obstacles have stood in my way, of what, I don't know, but still.  It feels good to not have a 'list' in my head.  And while there's major things and minor on the list, it's still a list.  Even the smallest item can be overbearing.  For instance, my Aunt wanted me to stop over her house and look at some medical forms because she didn't understand a question.  So I stopped twice over the weekend and she wasn't home, and she called me twice to see if I was still coming.  On the third time, she was home, and I was able to look at the form.  The question was 'do you chew tobacco?', yes or no... and even though she doesn't, she wasn't sure if she should mark 'no' or just leave it blank.  Three trips over there and a total of three phone calls later, and I was out of there in 45 seconds, but I had a weekend full of anxiety over it because of her anxiety over it.  The same with my Dad this morning.  I have to take him over to the bank so we can close out some empty bank accounts and he's asked me two times when we're going in the last 45 minutes.

I realize that trying to go this season without depression medication is going to lessen my ability to cope, although I feel like I'm doing pretty good so far.  I am definitely a problem solver... maybe I'm at fault for putting myself in that position and for making people around me weak, either inadvertently because they see me as being strong and let me handle things or my issues of wanting things done right and not trusting people, or my issue of taking care of people.  Either way, it has resulted in my life filled with things that other people are capable of doing themselves that they wind up dumping on me.  And although I don't mind the actual act of doing whatever it is that needs done, it's all the transferred anxiety that weighs on me.  Saying 'whenever you have time' and then calling me 15 times is contradictory.  I have become a master of juggling other people's problems by the level of psychotic anxiety they possess and display, not by what is actually the pressing or important issue.  I am amazed at how much of my life is actually about someone else's and think wouldn't it be incredible if I actually had control?

After getting through closing the house, my nephew's loans, wrapping up my contractual obligations to the Marriott, Thanksgiving, my tax extension, etc., I'm sailing through to the new year on the trip to Florida, Xmas, New Years Eve and then?  January and February are clear until I start back at the Marriott in mid-March... I should have plenty of time for everyone else's crap.  New Year's resolution:  Learning to say 'NO'.

YUM !! (There Should Be Laws To Protect the Innocent)

Mental... The Non-Medicated Kind

Yesterday, I braved the streets with all the crazed shoppers looking to save a buck.  Thankfully (for the economy), Christmas has lost it's meaning and is nothing but a lesson in advertising ploys and free enterprise.  There are a few snowflakes bobbing around out there, but not enough to make me run out there and prance through them (fortunately for the neighbors).  I have nothing to do today, so I will probably have to finally go into the garage and clean up my landscaping stuff this morning (since I didn't do it the last 4 days).  Now that it's 31 degrees out, it won't be as fun, like that was a possibility to begin with.

I watched Eat Pray Love last night on DVD.  Much of it was as expected;  Julia Roberts running around in a sensible shoe through a few countries with great scenery and a penchant for eating food and not caring if she gets fat, looking for the answers, a man and a good coffee.  And while that is enough already for me to relate (it practically sounds like a normal Saturday afternoon for me), the concentration on finding herself after being lost in a world that she didn't want to be in rang true for me.  I've been on a journey after hitting rock bottom in Vegas a few years ago.  And while I didn't travel to India to meditate in a temple, I have done some work on myself.  I don't think that we'll every totally get there since we're always going to be a work in progress, but it feels good to be able to recognize an unhappiness, be honest with myself and do the work.  As a result, I am in a better place, although not totally Utopian... and I have some more work to do.  My friend Michael has found Buddism, and I may look into some of it's teachings, especially the meditation and clearing the mind parts, which would be beneficial for me since I am so mental (not the white coat, padded room kind (although some of my friends would beg to differ))... rather, the kind where I'm always in my head.  I miss so much of the world by being in there (and there's no air conditioning and a musky smell).  And while I could use a trek around the world to find myself, I don't think I'm anywhere out there.  Sadly, I'm right here and not going anywhere.  Maybe I could hang my issues right up next to the rakes in the garage.

Happy Turkey Day

Other than going to my past boyfriend's family get togethers over the years, I can't remember the last time that my family had any kind of organized dinner for Thanksgiving or for Christmas.  Since my mom passed away in 1994, that was probably the last time, so holidays turn out to be just another day for me, which is fine.

It's funny how the country has changed.  I remember when we were younger, there wasn't anything open on holidays.. and most time the day before as well.  Now, the big box retailers seem to all have hours.  I think Thanksgiving and Christmas are the only two where there isn't anything open... and that makes me claustrophobic.  I'm like my Aunt in that respect... I like to go to a store or at least Barnes and Noble every day just to get out.

Today, my Dad will open up a bag of frozen broccoli/cauliflower in the fake cheese sauce, some poppin-fresh biscuits, some stove top stuffing and a can of corn with the pre-cooked ham and that will be our dinner.  In fact, he's down there now making it all already because he had nothing else to do and was excited about it.  So we'll sit there and share a meal together with the AM radio playing in the background... 15 minutes later, I'll be back in my room watching a movie and he'll be back to watching a game and that will wrap up another holiday for us.  And still, I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.  I am, however, salivating over my friend, John's (the one in Wales who raises foul, including turkeys), picture today... he sees a pet and I see some juicy white meat... YUM! 

Happy Thanksgiving to my family, friends and readers, all of which I am very thankful.

Movie Night

My passion for movies has waned over the last couple of months.  I've seen a few in the theater and at home but really didn't comment on them like I used to.  I can tell that I'm not as focused on the movie any more when I can now tolerate the idiots around me in the theater, popping their popcorn in their mouth, rattling their candy wrappers, chit-chatting amongst themselves throughout, interaction with their cell phone... none of it bothers me as much because I'm not that interested in the process any more, I guess.  I seem to be an idiot magnet though, because with a packed theater last night, the only two that did anything was the guy sitting right next to me.  The only time that he wasn't talking was when he was shoving popcorn in his mouth and when he finally fell asleep near the end, no doubt lulled there by the sound of his own voice.

Last night, we went to see The Last Three Days with Russell Crowe and Elizabeth Banks.  I guess Pittsburgh has some sort of tax credit for Hollywood to shoot movies here because there have been a slew of them shot here lately, this being one of them.  The only thing wrong with seeing a movie in the town where the movie was shot is that the natives can't control their fascination with trying to figure out where each scene is and sharing their own experience in that spot while the movie is going on, whether it's that they threw up on that corner or their aunt lives in that neighborhood... it never stops.

Having said all that, the movie is about a family (husband, wife and newborn son) and the wife gets arrested for murder under circumstantial evidence and the majority of the movie is watching the son grow up without his mother, and the husband's slow decent into his desperation in breaking his wife out of prison when he realizes that she's never going to get out.  The prison that they used was the Allegheny County Jail which I know well (here comes my yinzer account of something that I related to in the movie).  With my brother being in there several times over time, I am eerily aware of the procedures from walking in the door and getting frisked to heading up to the visiting area like cattle, as I have done it several times.  Nothing makes you feel like a piece of shit in life more... I remember taking my Dad to see my brother and I felt so bad that he, as an 80-something father, had to sit in the waiting room with other foul-mouthed family members that looked like they were going to cut a bitch up for looking at them the wrong way.  I couldn't wait to get my Dad out of there and take a shower.  Just another one of the fine experiences provided by my brother... add that to having a Constable come to the house at 2 a.m., cleaning blood off the wall from his shooting up, finding needles stuffed in the living room chair and being dragged to undisclosed locations to make payments to a Constable that was really one of my brother's friends acting like one.

If my life is ever portrayed in a movie... I hope that Colin Farrell portrays me... or maybe Angelina Jolie... that bitch can tear a role up.

Scars

Written by Ronan Keating... shared by Jaydog:

Scars are warning signs left behind from choices that we made.
Scars follow you home and they won't let go
They're with you to the grave
Everybody has regrets, wounds they wish would heal
Clocks that won't reset
Scars are simply lessons learned,
bridges that we've burned
So we won't go back


Scars show me where I've been, where I shouldn't go again
Keep my heart on track
I'm sure, sure before too long
I'll have another souvenir
From somewhere that went wrong
But I wouldn't change a thing
They're such a part of me
They make me who I am
No apologies for these scars

Toxic Love

Are we really capable of moving on from a situation?  No matter how much thought, meditation, talking it through with friends or therapy, do you ever feel like you believe what you are resolved to think about something?  When a loved one passes, you cry, mourn, have heart-ache, reminisce... and you think that you move forward, but then all it takes is something familiar... a special day, a smell, a song... and you're right back there like the person isn't gone.  A bad memory perhaps... you were bullied as a kid and, now, someone puts their hand on your shoulder and you are instantly taken back to that exact moment, full of fright or anger.

I recently was dating a great guy, Giuseppe, who really had his shit together... on paper, it all seemed perfect.  But in my heart, I was not able to make a connection with him and broke it off before I hurt him.  And while 4 or 5 weeks isn't really a long time to establish feelings for someone, in other instances, your heart skips a beat the moment you see or meet someone.  Sadly, you can't force a connection with someone, no matter how much sense it makes or what a great situation it is... or how fantastic the person.  With so many variables going into attraction, it's a wonder how you can mesh with anyone, and yet, it happens.  But, it's that one connection that you have that's so dynamic... which is sometimes a once in a lifetime happening... that you measure all others.

The first time I ever saw Jesse, it was at camp and I was probably 500 feet from him.  I knew right then and there.  I felt it.  Throughout our tumultuous relationship, there was never a time where he wasn't with me, in my heart, where I didn't feel his presence.  The good times were great and the bad times were even good.  And yet, the relationship, through several attempts, never worked, even in variations on the definition of 'relationship'.  Perhaps it was our age difference... our difference in life and relationship experience... living situations... or whatever else.  Like trying to drive a car down a rutted road, no matter how many times you back up and try it again, you still end up in the ruts in the end.  Our relationship was a recipe for disaster... and our love, tragic.  Factoring in who we are as people and our invidual situations, it just doesn't seem to work, despite our efforts... despite the connection that we have... despite our deep love... despite everything else.  Feelings flood, logic goes out the window and we're paralyzed.  Not such a bad place to be, caught in a moment in time, but you can't live there.

I was able to talk with my friend Robin last night, who is literally our biggest fan.  Setting aside my blame and ego, I learned many things about him, me and us.  And while there's nothing that I would want to do more than run down there right now, hold him and never let him go, I realize that I have to do just the opposite.  My holding him only holds him down.  My helping him only holds him back.  We both grow a great deal when we're apart, which is what glaringly tells me that we can't derail each other any more.  Letting him go is the biggest show of love that I can do.  With one text from one to another, it starts a collapse on both sides and we can't do that to each other any more.

Although I am at peace and resolve with this right now, I don't know how many more relationships will be derailed as a result of my connection with him.  I look at his picture and I melt, much less seeing him in person.  Currently, he is doing very well.  It saddens me that I will never get to see that.  It saddens me that I will never get to really know him.  And while I know that I have to find a way to move forward, I will forever be back there.

Blog Envy

I recently convinced my friend Michael to start blogging as a way to work through some issues and get things off his chest.  Reading through some of his first posts, it reminds me of when I first started, some 935 posts ago.  Somewhere along the way, depending on what type of blog you want to have, you go from choosing your topics to write about to them choosing you.  I've gone through periods where I felt it was getting stale or I've tried new features that maybe didn't feel right, and I'm kind of left with the current format of topics choosing me from my daily life and me bitching about it, however still therapeutic... so I guess it's working, although it may not be as chipper and entertaining as, say, Perez Hilton's blog.  Making progress in your life doesn't always have to be exciting or come across like fireworks... it can be as simple as a calm realization. 

Sometimes, I'm sure it comes across like a soap opera you tune into;  you silently watch as the characters, without your influence, do the exact opposite of what you'd do.  Maybe you still loyally watch... maybe you get up during that scene and make a sandwich... maybe you take a pee... or maybe you tune into The Price is Right instead.  You follow the shows you watch or the books you read because you either relate somehow, it takes you somewhere that you wouldn't have gone otherwise, or it makes you feel better about your life.  As the programmer, all I can hope for is that I have been able to share, inspire or make you laugh.

Friends AND Family

This weekend is 'friends and family' weekend at gay camp and with Anna Marie and John going down, I decided to head down as well.  They only have two of them, one in the Spring and one in the Fall.  With it being sunny and in the 50's, that helps to make it bearable this time of year down there, especially with the higher elevation... the cold goes right through you.  They, along with Matthew, were staying with our friend George in his trailer.  Four people, two of them with permanent outside voices and no water... and I rented a small cabin next door to them.  As I get older, I find that I really need my time alone, which is why I would rather stay at a hotel than stay with friends while traveling. 

Lately, with working through some problems (mostly the mess that my Dad makes), it seems like they just keep coming.  After getting my Dad's funeral arranged and then getting two of my nephew's student loans bought down (he owed $31k and we settled both for under $10k) and sending those checks out and getting his promisory note set up, a situation with my brother emerged, even with him in rehab currently.  Two weeks ago, when I was down at camp, my brother and his friend brought a check to my Dad because they wanted him to cash it.  So they deposited it into the ATM and then tried to withdraw the money, but I only keep $40 in his account where he has access.  A few days later, when the check cleared and the money was in there, he gave them the rest of the money ($175 total).  Yesterday, I looked at his account and there was a negative, since the check actually, after 10 days, was returned.  After flipping out on my Dad for doing it to begin with, then reiterating that I told him that it would bounce, I went to the bank and got a copy of it and I'm in the process of tracking the friend down.  The check was one of those Discover Card balance transfer checks in his sister's name, so I don't know if he stole them from him or what the situation really is.  What happens is my brother brings these checks to my Dad and gets him to cash them and then takes a part of it as a fee for cashing it and, ultimately, screwing my Dad over.  My brother was supposed to call my Dad last night and I told him to tell my brother that if he didn't get that money back to my Dad by Monday, that I would prosecute them both. 

Another Funny Cartoon to Make You Laugh At Something You'd Cry About

Leaves Me Empty

I worked at the Marriott today, trying to get things on my list done for the season.  It was pretty much cold and rained on me throughout.  I removed so many leaves and did a final cut on some of the areas.  Back again tomorrow.  I've been kind of blah for a few reasons... and then I saw some sort of animal riggling in the road after it got hit and that pretty much ruined an already drab day.  Not too much else to say, especially after all the long posts that I've been doing.  Not exactly easy reading in both content and length.

I See the Light (At the End of the Tunnel... Hopefully It's Not the Lynch-Mob's Torch)

Today was one of those trying family days.  With the sale of the house, there's a few things that I wanted to get settled while we had the proceeds and one of them was pre-paying my Dad's funeral.  I made an appointment for 10 a.m. this morning and went downstairs to get my jeans from the laundry room at 9:20 and my Dad was standing there by the door with his coat on.  I jokingly asked him if he was in a hurry to die and get buried since the funeral home is only 3 minutes from the house.  I'm not sure why old people always want to be so early... maybe they think that they'll need extra time... maybe they are so excited that they have something to do... or, as I have surmised (in the cases of my Dad and Aunt), they just have nothing else going on and need something to obsess about.  We got over there in plenty of time and went through all the arrangements, settling on a $2,000 modest casket and two viewing times on the first day and one the second morning followed by a religious service and then the customary Italian eating fest afterwards at the local American Legion Hall.  My Dad didn't want the pomp and circumstance of the funeral procession and service at the grave, which saved a ton of money, considering that the hearse rental for the trip 3 miles away is $600.  Total funeral cost was almost $10,000, still.  After that, we went to the bank to set up an irrevocable funeral trust in the form of a CD, which protects the money in case my Dad would have to go into a nursing facility and Medicare/Medicaid came after his assets.

The family crazy train didn't stop there though.  My Aunt, who always says she hates bothering me with her problems but doesn't try to work through them at all, then proceeds to call me several times a day over something that is less important than, well anything imaginable.  This time, with the daylight savings time, I had to go over there and adjust her timers on her Malibu landscaping lighting and... (wait for it)... her sambo jockey lantern statue.  I've talked about it before... how their generation thinks nothing of still calling black people 'colored'... and while I don't think they'd burn a cross in their yard and don a white hood, calling them 'black' or 'African-Americans' is surely not in their thought process.  That's what makes having a miniature black man dressed in a jockey uniform holding a lantern so your white guests can see walking down your sidewalk a bigger slap in the face than, probably, burning the cross.  Regardless of my civil rights views, I adjusted the timers.  That was yesterday.  For some reason, they did not come on (I suspect it was God punishing her for her blatant racism), so she called me again and I had to go over there and check it out.  The landscaping lights were easy, but Sambo needed a new bulb, so off to the store I went, since surely she couldn't handle that task.  Plus, it would have delayed fixing it and I would have still had that hanging over my head.  It seems that I can never get out from under someone elses punch list of things to do.

It's been raining and raining... I'm ready to build an ark.  I suppose it's good, but it's supposed to keep on raining for the next couple of days.

November 20th, National Survivors of Suicide Day

I'm doing this post for a few reasons.  First, with the recent slew of gay suicides across the country and, secondly, I almost became one of these statistics:

•Over 34,000 people in the United States die by suicide every year.
•In 2007 (latest available data), there were 34,598 reported suicide deaths.
•Suicide is the fourth leading cause of death for adults between the ages of 18 and 65 years in the United States (28,628 suicides).
•Currently, suicide is the 11th leading cause of death in the United States.
•A person dies by suicide about every 15 minutes in the United States.
•Every day, approximately 90 Americans take their own life.
•Ninety percent of all people who die by suicide have a diagnosable psychiatric disorder at the time of their death.
•There are four male suicides for every female suicide, but three times as many females as males attempt suicide.
•There are an estimated 8-25 attempted suicides for every suicide death.

A few years back, after a stagnant point in my life, I decided to make some changes.  I had just had a major break up,  lost a job, and my dog, Shelby, had died, so I thought I'd move for a fresh start.  Prone to clinical and seasonal depression already, the situational depression just added to it, but I was optimistic with a new focus.  With Philadelphia, Ft. Lauderdale and Las Vegas in the running, I chose Las Vegas.  I was working at the Marriott at the time as a bartender and thought that I'd probably have a better go of it in Vegas since, at the time, it was thriving.  I put my house up for sale and had someone who was going to buy it, but backed out four days before I was ready to leave.  Having a low mortgage, I decided that it would be feasible to pay the mortgage while living out there, meanwhile trying to get it sold from out there. 

After racking up my credit cards to get out there and a swift decline in the economy, especially in that area, I quickly realized that unless I grew some hooties, employment in the hotel business/bartending was going to be abismal since they were basically only hiring beautiful girls... having their pick from the 3,000 people a month that were moving there thinking it was a goldmine.  I quickly ran out of money and, soon thereafter, hope.  I applied to so many jobs and would show up to open casting calls for bartender jobs where thousands of people would come out to apply for one job.  I started to withdraw from friends that I had made out there and would take long drives in the desert to clear my head, only to delve deeper into my head, as the mysterious desert has that effect.  Consumed by my own thoughts that never stopped swirling in my head, I spiraled into a deep depression, barely eating and leaving my room.  As it progressed over a month, I stopped all basic care, slept days away and was up throughout the nights and didn't leave the apartment, much less my room, for 5 day stretches.

By this time, I had given up hope of turning my life around.  I was in debt and saw no way out.  A friend, Kahnrad, that I had met out there was going through somewhat the same thing so, at least, we had each other to talk to, since misery loves company.  We both had discussed ending our lives and then we stopped communicating to each other.  I became consumed with getting rid of my stuff, I didn't answer my phone any more because I didn't feel I had anything to contribute to a conversation but gloom and despair, and I became disconnected from everyone.  My Myspace page became a shrine to my depression and I wrote some poetry that I had posted.  My friend, Elaine, who basically moved out there with me but hadn't moved in officially yet and barely was out there, didn't know what to do with me.  I opened up to her about my suicidal thoughts and with the geographical distance between us and the depression being a part of me then and in the past that I never shared with her and she was floored.  Not being able to help me, she pulled back.  I made my Last Will for what little I did have left and I became consumed with ways to commit suicide.  With the Grand Canyon being only a few hours away, I decided that I would drive there and simply walk off the side of the canyon.  As I'm writing this, I get chills thinking how I was only days away from carrying this out.  The level of despair and apathy was incredible.  Finally, I answered the phone one day and it was my friend Matthew from here in Pittsburgh.  He talked to my friend Anna who was my boss at the Marriott and they convinced me to move back home and come back to my old job.  I'm not sure what snapped in my, especially since it really wasn't a great situation to go back to, but I packed everything up and came back and moved back into my house, which was just sitting there empty for 4 months..

The worst thing for my mental health has always been unemployment.  Miserable-but-working is always a better strategy for sanity for me because with too much time on my hands, I turn inward and basically drive myself bat-shit crazy.  When I came back, I told myself that I would only concern myself with getting up, going to work and going to sleep, and I did that for a few months before I slowly edged my way back into caring about anything and out of my depression, which took a couple of years to fully get beyond.  Dealing with an increased amount of debt, a house that I didn't want to be in and no direction in my future, I was reduced to an infant mentality of coping, ignoring most things that faced me to get through the recovery.  A 'fuck everybody' attitude had to be adopted.  Depression is a dark place where some don't get out. While in it, I felt a comfort of feeling something... despair, hurt, etc. Coming back out of it, I felt nothing and actually longed to be back in it where although I felt dead inside, I was feeling that death on a daily basis and it was something to feel.  I traded hope for an end back into hope for a future, however dismal.

My birth father shot himself in the head in the bedroom with 4 kids (I wasn't there) downstairs in the living room about a year after I was given up for adoption.  Upon learning this years ago, I often think about the genetics of a chemical imbalance and how it's out of your control.  I am happy to say that I am a long way out of it now.  I still have my bad days, but I can honestly say that I have moved forward and have much hope for my future, unlike that point in my life.  I am posting this a few days before the official day because to be a survivor (not that I survived suicide, only depression), you have to stop it... and that's the hard part, obviously.  For me, it was a focus on something other than the end.  Be aware of friends and family that show the signs of depression and suicide and although you may not know what to do, just be there.

As a tribute, I would have liked to have shared a few of the poems that I wrote during that period, but with the virus that I had over the summer and losing my whole computer, I'm not sure that I have them any more, but I will look for them.  Instead I will post the video from 'The Secret', something that I watched every morning for months to get me through and rebuild my confidence and self-worth (with a special connection to the passage at around 1:10 (cliff divers).  Maybe not having the poems is a good thing (to not be reminded), and maybe not.  My recently-planned (but cancelled) trip to Vegas was going to serve as therapy to move through it and put closure on the worst time period of my life once and for all.

Let Me Get That For You...

The dinner party last night was excellent.  Compared to the party with my friends on Saturday night where we talked about hooking up and the antics at camp (the guy into scat)... the conversation was more refined with various topics such as religion, politics and business, to name a few.  I absolutely love meeting new people and trying to figure them out.  Giuseppe did an excellent job with the food... with the turkey and stuffing being my favorite.  Starting at 5, the last guest left around 11, and G and I watched our programs and passed out until around 2:30 a.m.  It wasn't until I was on my way home that I remembered that the cleaning people were coming at 8 a.m. this morning.

After a few hours sleep, I sprang up and was able to clean the laundry room from top to bottom before they got here and washed the throw rugs from the bathrooms and the kitchen.  I'm having them do a really deep clean, moving stuff and doing windows, etc.  I'll probably have them back twice a month.  Sadly, with me being my own worst enemy, I have a combination of Italian guilt and self-persecution going on, mixed with a business style that stems from that where I usually, when assigning jobs, take the shittiest one myself.  I'm not sure if I'm trying to prove that I'm not better than anyone else or it's a control issue (not trusting people to do it right)... or if I like doing the worst job because I love the satisfaction of standing back and seeing the glaring results.  Regardless, I would never allow myself the pleasure of having someone do everything for me.  As a result, I told them not to do my bedroom and bathroom.  It keeps me honest, I guess.  I'm very happy to have the help though since, usually, by the time that I get one floor done and move to the next, it's time to go back and do the previous floor again.  It never gets finished completely.  I'm about to explode from actually getting things accomplished over the last month.  It's a good feeling.

Hodge Podge

It's been a busy couple of days.  I was able to get my Uncle's foundation painted and wrapped up before the weather is supposed to change a little bit this week.  I'll spend some time at the Marriott in the beginning of the week wrapping up Fall clean up before the snow comes.  I bought a snow blower yesterday... watch, we won't get any snow to use it, since they said it was supposed to be an average Winter.  Monday, I have a cleaning lady coming to give the house a good cleaning (my Dad's areas)... and possibly they will come twice a month.  At $15 an hour, have at it... I can't get caught up to save my life.  I also picked up a carpet cleaner and I need to do the steps and the long entry throw rugs as well as my truck.  They finally got the building across the street from me finished and we got our first neighbors to move in... a young couple.  Now I can't walk around in my bedroom naked with the blinds up.  They are still building more units.  It's amazing how many people are renting, since they can't get mortgages.  We're meeting with the funeral home to go over my Dad's arrangements (to pre-pay), so that should be interesting.  I got all of his automatic withdrawals from his old checking account switched over and a bunch of things cleaned up.

Last night, Matt had a really nice party... there were about 12 of us... he jokes (or maybe not) that it was my party, since I invited a bunch of our friends so that it would be a nice turnout.  His normal spread of a half-opened bag of pretzels and some TV show on Hulu playing in the background was a thing of the past, replaced by a nice spread of food, a full bar and trendy (albeit loud) music in the distance.  As it normally goes, we all sat around talking about the escapades at camp.  Giuseppe (I call him Yippy) came, and I think he had a good time.  He is fitting in well with the crowd.  I am heading over there tonight for dinner with 6 of his friends.  I'm trying to control my anxiety, since I don't do well in social settings like that... so we'll see. 

My brother is in a rehab facility (again)... I'm not sure if he checked himself in or what happened, since we never get the full story.  With every time this happens, it becomes more apparent that no matter what we do to help him, he needs to really hit rock bottom, which he never seems to accomplish.  My Dad wants nothing to do with him, and I'm hoping that this will be the opportunity, in the name of his progress, for us to remove ourselves completely from his situation so that he can grow.  Easier said than done.  The pattern is always one of his 'seeing the light' and then he needs all this help on the new path and if we don't help him, then we get guilt for 'how we can be so cruel'.  There's better odds of winning at the craps... but I'm going to step up to the table and take my turn to throw the dice regardless.

By this time of the year, I am well into my depression pill regimen, but I've chosen to not go that route this year.  With all that has been going on and the nice weather, as well as things coming together, working out and dating... I feel good about my decision so far.  The Florida trip will hit right in the middle of the 'death month' (December is when everybody I know that passed away, passed away) and the dreaded holidays... so a good shot of sun will do me good.  And although most of those things are tangible situations and my depression is chemical, you never know when the shit will hit the fan... but so far, the blades aren't even moving and there's no load of crap brewing, so to speak, so it looks good.  I'm looking forward to Xmas this year... I got an early present in the love that Yippy has shown me, even though our relationship is still in the early stage.  He's a great guy... in fact, it confuses me since it's been a while since I've dated anyone that has their shit together and treats me well.  It feels good.


My friend Robin sent me this... I thought it was very profound... and much-appreciated...

;) . . . / \ . . . (;


Ellipsis and Solidus



It starts with a smile, then a step, then another, and another. You are ready to take a chance and trust. You lean in, but there is space; this space is everything you are, and everything you aren't, to each other. There is room to breathe, room to grow. What matters is that neither of the points can ever hit the ground. If one starts to fall, the other will catch it. If they both fall at the same time, they will save each other.

YUM !! (Hotties with Hats)

Smoke and Mirrors

There are many ways to show love; a kiss, a certain look, a feeling, through an emotion, a gesture, a kind act, a hug, among others.  With so many ways to choose, why is our capacity to show that love so small?  Why is it so hard?  Does it make us feel vulnerable, weak, captured or subservient, again, among others?

Being adopted, I have never felt a sense of beginning, despite knowing some of the details of my biological parents and growing up in a good environment with my adoptive parents.  Still, with two starting points in life, it's hard to feel stability and foundation and I've felt like I've been just wandering through life.  It has made me detached, self-reliant and non-trusting, as I tend to keep people at arm's length.
 

While growing up, ideals are learned through experience, good and bad.  What our perception is of a situation is greatly influenced by our surroundings, but it's possible that it might be the other way around.  That we are who we are, and how we act and how what effect that has on a situation is valid.  For instance, it could be in your nature to be a jealous person, so when two friends hang out and don't include you, problems could manifest out of your jealousy.  Remove you and your jealousy, and you have to friends hanging out, so where does the problem stem from?  Or is it the other way around?  The emotional infliction of the situation changes who you are, and you experience jealousy as a result and probably hurt as well.

To say that my Mom and I weren't close is an understatement.  Whether it was not seeing eye-to-eye on my career path, choice of friends, clothing or sexual orientation... or perhaps, I suspect, a jealousy that I wasn't tied down and she was... having sensed some regret on her part.  With not driving or working, she had little outside contact beyond her family and I think she regretted some decisions made.  I was a very hyper child and my brother somewhat wild, and then there's the fact that she really wanted a girl instead of boys.  She wasn't supportive, compassionate or loving and was hands-off.  Maybe that was all my perception or maybe it was the truth.  Applying the logic from the previous paragraph, did I feel unloved because of the actions (or no action, as the case may be) of my Mom (being my perception), or am I just the kind of person that doesn't know what love is and how to receive/recognize it to begin with.  Do I push it away?

The other day, I was talking about the mess that my nephew got my Dad into as far as the $60k worth of student loans and my friend Robin commented, saying that 'it could have been you that he did that for'.  That got me thinking and the fact of the matter is that it wasn't me.  In fact, I never went to college because my parents made too much for me to get student loans and they didn't put anything away for us either, and certainly wouldn't co-sign for one at the time.  It wasn't me that my Mom did everything for (since I left home at 20 and was basically taking care of myself for a few years prior to that).  It wasn't me that my Dad gave $125k+ to over time to try to fix every problem that came down the pike.  And although I know that it's just money, it's more than that.  It's a gesture and an expression of caring for a person's situation and relieving their pressure. 

My Dad is a simple person and he doesn't say many things, and 'I love you' isn't among them. And since he's at the point where I have pretty much taken over everything that he has to worry about, he is just sort of clear minded to go about his business (playing cards, watching Price is Right and playing horseshoes).  With me doing everything for him... protecting him... sheltering him...cleaning up after him and taking care of him, it's no surprise that I'd feel like our relationship is a little one-sided.  And while I'm not soliciting an intervention or comments of support, I do need to be able to work through my thoughts, through the blog.  Putting aside my feelings of frustration from lack of respect, understanding and appreciation... and putting aside his lack of words... and putting aside things like not remembering my birthday... I look for the little things that he does do, like making me pancakes... (sadly, I can't think of anything else at this point).  When I think of all the situations that I am dragged into with my brother, every single little bump in the road becomes my problem... it's a given.  And yet, in all these years, he has never, ever inquired about how I was... what I need... how can he help me... that never comes in play.  It's like we're expected to take on his stuff and he has absolutely no connection to ours/mine.  As far as my nephew goes, he will inquire into things (how's the house sale going (since he wanted money from it), or how can he help with our bills (because he wanted to move into our third bedroom and get out of where he is now), but there's always some motivation behind it, and if not, sadly it is buried so far in doubt that I can't possibly see it if it were genuine.

I've had friends that consider me their best friend for all that I do to make them happy, to the point that I'm miserable, always putting myself last, and they don't even see it.  I've had relationships that look so loving because of the things that I do to make them that way, again, with me miserable.  And I have family relationships that, on the outside, reflect a strong family tie... all one-sided efforts... and all with me being miserable.  Is this just my perception?  For once, I'd like to be on the receiving side so I didn't have to question motives or feelings and there wasn't any doubt in my mind.  People around me know how I feel because I will either tell them or show them or both.  I don't think that I'll ever have that stability or piece of mind.

Who's Watching What

Prison Break

es·cap·ism (-skpzm) n.

The tendency to escape from daily reality or routine by indulging in daydreaming, fantasy, or entertainment.

Today was that kind of day.  I was able to put my guilt aside for a few hours and do a few things for me.  After a morning of doing some things around the house, I went to the Strip District here in Pittsburgh (the area where all the produce, etc. comes into the city) and enjoyed a nice afternoon breakfast at my favorite diner... then stopped and got my favorite almond macaroons at Enrico's (made famous by the movie Wedding for Bella (The Bread, My Sweet) starring the rapidly aging Scott Baio about the actual Enrico's bakery)... then stopped at the coffee store and got my Torani syrups for my iced coffee that I make (toasted marshmallow, cupcake and almond flavors).  I then hit the mall for a bit and then headed home to do some laundry, etc.

My nephew stopped by and we were able to call two of the three school loans that my Dad co-signed for that are in default.  One that was almost $17k, they settled on $4k, so we are waiting for the release papers before I write a check, of which we are having papers drawn up to document the loan that he'll be paying back.  We made another offer of $3.5k on a $14k loan and we're waiting to hear.  The big one ($24k), they're not budging on, so he'll just be making the payments.  I can't believe that my Dad was so stupid to do all of that.

Tomorrow, once it gets warmer in the afternoon, I am heading to my Uncle's to paint his foundation.  Little by little, I'm whittling away at my list... hopefully, at a rate faster than my sanity is being chipped away.

Progress

First... HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Julie!!  She is 29 again (for the last 14 years).  It's easy to remember her birthday since it's the day before my parents would-be wedding anniversary.

I can't get over this weather, although I did hear someone say that it's supposed to snow next week... and a lot... see, nothing is ever free.  I've been taking advantage of it by getting all my Marriott clean up done.  Today, I cut down probably 30 grasses... the kind with the poofy tassles at the top, which were about 15 feet high... and, for some reason, the grass part splinters like chards of glass (kind of like fiberglass) and cuts me all day long... and the poofy tassles were letting go of their poofies and they were all stuck to the sweat on my face.  Then I planted about 200 bulbs in the ground and blew some more leaves.  I only have a few more things to do, do a final cutting and blow the remainder of the leaves and I'll be done for the season.

I've been pretty busy over the last week or so getting things done.  It seems like since the closing on the house, all hell has broken loose and I am finally accomplishing things.  I've been so domesticated as well, and it seems it's no sooner that my programs are over that a fresh magazine comes in the mail and I'm having to try to keep up (I wish).  Speaking of domesticated, I started looking around for a housekeeper that could come in once or twice a month to do a cleaning on the areas that my Dad messes up (all of them minus my room/bathroom).  To further domesticate me, I have to make spinach balls (the kind made with Stove Top Stuffing) and my pepperoni dip for a party on Saturday.  Busy, busy, busy.

Shiny Object... (Runs Towards It)

For those of you that were around in the beginning of my blog... you remember my fascination with my sparkle ball.  I am easily amused by the simplest things.  Lately, I've been obsessed with these voodoo dolls that you get out of the gumball machine.  I'm not sure why, but I have always liked zombie and voodoo doll stuff... and I'm not really a horror film type person either.  Still, they are cute... and they hang from my mirror in the truck.  It's the little things.

We are having a heat wave this week.  Today it was about 60 and beautifully sunny, and it's going to be that way all week long, if not warmer.  I am taking advantage of it by finishing up the fall cleanup at the Marriott, and I have to paint the outside foundation of my Uncle's house for him.  It felt like we were diving head-first into winter... so it's nice to be having a little bit of retro-summer weather.  As long as it's freezing cold when I leave for my trip in early December.  It always makes your vacation go much nicer when you know folks back home are freezing while you are posting pics of the beach on your blog.

Anybody Out There? Is This Mic On?

Lately, I've felt a disconnect to the blog and haven't been updating as much.  Partly due to a feeling that there's no one out there listening any more (less comments), and partly due to a busier schedule.  I haven't been able to form any kind of focused thoughts over the last couple of weeks short of all the things going on in politics with the mid-term elections. In trying to get a full picture of the issues, I have had to question who I am and what I believe in, truly. 

I've been posting some blog entries on some of my political views and have used my facebook page as a platform as well.  This one isn't a platform speech, so don't run away.  I find myself being split between not wanting to be that person that tries to ram their views down everyone's throat and feeling like I should be doing more, including spreading a message of some sort.

I'm not sure at what point in my life I became a liberal.  I suppose that with being gay, I was pretty much thrust into it. After all, if I wasn't liberal, I wouldn't have any self-acceptance.  Being told that you don't matter, don't deserve to have equal rights and are an abomination has a tendency to make you bond with the other underdog and the down-trodden (ie: the Democrats), and your whole existence becomes a quest for worth.  I think the same happens in religion; by constantly not being accepted, it makes you a stronger person and you search for your place of belonging... or you give up, in the case of teen suicides.

I think that it's easier to find the bad in people than the good, but it's human nature to want to find the latter.  If there's one thing that became blaringly apparent to me in the election cycle, it's that people can really be nasty.  I think that people, in life, need to identify with a group, so it's easy for people to say that they are one party or the other without having to be accountable for what implications that brings.  You might be able to say you're a Republican without batting an eye, but if asked would you cast someone aside denying them health care and ruin their financial situation and possibly their life (and possibly the loss of said life) because you would rather your tax money go towards something that could increase your own personal wealth, you may not be able to look someone in the eye and say 'yes'.  Therein lies the root of my frustration and despair lately; how can some people be so selfish?  How do these people look at themselves in the mirror?  How do they justify this behavior?  What happened to them to have that outlook?  Who's the mother of these people?

When you turn on the TV, all you see are these 'news' shows that debate the issues and twist everything 6 ways to Sunday.  Because I want to be informed and see all perspectives, I watch Fox News along with all the other shows, most claiming to be unbiased or 'fair and balanced'... but they're not.  And as you watch these shows, most with the purpose of persuading opinion, you can't help but question your own opinion and, further, your beliefs and morals.  After all, how can so many people have the opposite outlook that you have?  You start to question your own sanity and intelligence.  Maybe you have it wrong.  The only reality check is that with questioning your own crazy, you must not be since crazy people don't know that they are crazy.  Instead, they march in and vote directly against their own best interests, beliefs and morals and somehow, smile as they are doing it. 

There's a safety factor in grasping on to your beliefs, right or wrong.  Without being challenged, you live in your bubble unscathed, but you don't grow.  Change is a good thing, but there's a huge vulnerability involved that most people don't want to face or endure.  No one want's to be wrong... or seen as unintelligent.  Letting go of a belief, especially one that has been hammered in to our core, isn't easy.  Yet we have to make the effort to be informed and push our limits, since that is the only way we will grow.  And while I have questioned whether I had more piece of mind when I wasn't as involved in what's going on in politics, I know that I am clearer for having had the experience.