MonthJune 2005

nothin’s gonna change my world

I’m somewhat irritated at the moment … although I’m not going to get into it. But through my irritation I’ve figured something out finally — I work a lot for the approval of others. Granted, when you’re doing marketing work, you have to aim to please. But I do it outside of work as well.
There is no point to approval from a 3rd party. I do things for my own reasons. Sometimes they work, sometimes they don’t. I’m not, afterall, perfect.
So … /throws hands up in air. I’m over it.

petite fours galore

I dreamt weird dreams again last nite. Both of these dreams involved my friend Karyn (whom I haven’t seen in … oh … 2 years or so.) Odd that I dream about her randomly like this.
Anyway. In my dream, Karyn was getting married. She was living in New York, and had several roommates (of whom I was also friends). I also knew her fiance — although, there was some sort of tension between us — could have been jealousy, not real sure. Anyway. The first part of the dream is us all watching a movie on this tiny black and white television they have in their living room. I was really into it, apparently, and Karyn’s fiance comes home with a gift for her. It was a Nintendo Gamecube. However, it was completely disassembled. I, being the mechanical genius that I am, volunteered to put the damn thing together. So I put the guts together, and someone put the case together and put it in the fireplace (and there as a fire buring). I was way frustrated because we couldn’t find all the pieces to put the cover on (they prolly melted or something).
Anyway — switch from that to me making the invitations for the wedding reception. They ended up fantastic (of course), and then it fast forwards to the actual reception. I have never seen SO MUCH FOOD in all my life. It was table after table after table of desserts, cakes, pies, and boxes and boxes full of petite fours. Champagne everywhere, there was also some pretty foul looking meat (which I didn’t touch) — but I had myself two big ol’ pieces of apple pie and blackberry pie. And of course, i had some pink and green (that weird green color like in my last dream) petite fours that were white cake and cream cheese icing.
Then, there was all this mad running around. Everyone was running from something, and I ducked into this room, and there was this dead woman lying on the bed — she’d been murdered (apparently just a few moments before) The wallpaper was red and and gold paisley, something that was pretty old and faded. There were no windows in the room, and the light was supplied by the old gas lamps on the walls. It felt very murkey in there, and I was afraid someone would come in and find me with this dead woman, so I hid in the closet — which, of course, was filled with nooses, hanging on like hangers. I was totally freaked out. Someone jostled the door knob and there was shouting. I ducked into the closet and slid the door shut, and someone grabbed my arm. It was this midget in this red hat and he just put his finger to my lips to keep me from screaming.
And then i woke up.
Now, why the fuck do I have weird dreams like that. Huh??? This is no Twin Peaks. I don’t need red rooms and midgets in my rooms.

thoughts for bed

Today was a really long day — long but productive. Everyone but two of my team mates is out of the office. So it’s really really quiet and I just sit there and work and listen to music.
I worked till about 8pm tonite on some projects at work which I need to have finished for when David gets back from Europe. I left the office feeling good. Content, really. The work I’m doing right now is reall good, and it’s showing me that I’m actually a talented and creative guy. I don’t toot my own horn or anything — but I’m pleased with the work i’m doing, and at the rate I’m doing it. Typically creative stuff has to be flushed out of me — and that’s not a quick process. But this week, things have been coming quickly, which is good, becuase I have a lot to do.
So I drove home at a leisurely pace, no traffic to deal with for once. I had some music on, quiet — nothing blaring — and I reflected on where I am in my life, where I was a year ago — where I was 5 years ago — and just why I am where I am.
I’m one of the people who believes that everything happens for a reason. I’m not saying that things are set in stone or anything — but I think there are things we need to learn or to receive in life (or give even) and certain people are put in our path to fulfill those roles — be it a friend, a job interview, a cop who gives you a ticket — all those things … they need to happen for a reason.
I’ve been thinking about The Boy today … as well as a number of ex’s. Taking time to think why I ever dated the people I did made me realize that I learned a lot from them. Let’s see — in summary — some things I’ve learned … I’ll even attribute who I learned it from.
Ryan: don’t go along with a situation if you aren’t happy. You know deep down when something isn’t working. If it doesn’t work, say something. There’s no point in wasting your time and his time if you’re not into it 100%. Additionally, don’t think you know how to heal someone. Helping hands are one thing, but playing Jesus is quite different. People have to learn to grieve in their own way, on their own time. Any consequences that come from their grieving are theirs to deal with — not yours — and it is not your place to try to remove them from that experience.
The Boy: I’m still learning lessons from this experience. Let’s see. Love is a beautiful thing. It should be respected and prized. Because there is ONE ultimate love — one who will never compare to any body else. And finding him is not an easy feat. And … sometimes he finds you.
Logan: Geez, this could be a book here. The most important thing I learned from Logan was not to take things/people for granted. Expressing your feelings, desires, and (especially) concerns is really important for any type of relationship, particularly a romantic relationship. I was in a really bad place in my life when I met Logan. I was quite broken in a number of ways — and he seemed to jus sweep everything up and put a band-aid on it. I have to admit that I would not be where I am today if i had not met him. I don’t know if he loved me (he said he did). But he sure took care of me, nurtured me even. And that wasn’t his place to have to do that. And I, of course, became way to attached to having someone pamper me. And when things ended, he was quite mean and hurtful. And from that I also learned that when there is a goodbye, there is a clear line that says “move on.” Thinking they’re going to magically change their mind is rediculous and only leas to more heartache. I also learned that you eventually have to forgive and forget or it will tear you down. That took me a long time to learn.
Matt: Hmm. I learned that you can’t make someone love you, regardless of your feelings and efforts. Desire and intention do NOT equal experience and dedication. Lots of things come in to making a relationship work. Communication, honesty, sincerity … those are things that should be there. However, looking at my relationships in the past, I can say that (with everyone) at least one of those aspects has been missing.) And I’m not saying it was the other person who was lacking. I also learned that being angry about a situation is normal — but dwelling on it, letting it fester, will make you grow to hate that person. Break ups are hard. Break ups put distance between you and the other person (usually permenant). But sometimes there’s already distance there, and it just falls into its natural state, regardless of intention.
I’m still learning from these things. I wish they weren’t always such difficult lessons. And I wish they could be learned some other way, preferrably NOT in retrospect. But I guess you live and learn — and love and learn. I’m happy with who I am — with the things I’m learning, and the experiences I’m having. I don’t regret the decisions I’ve made … they’ve made me who I am today — not perfect, not even filled-in completely — but I’m an honest person, and I say what I mean, and I treat others the way I feel they deserve to be treated. And in the long run, I’m proud of who I am. And I keep on with the idea that everything happens for a reason: love, heartache, kisses, hugs, and traffic tickets.

happy father’s day

I’ve never been really big on Father’s Day. I’m not a big family guy, and I’m not close to my father. In fact, prior to today, the last time I saw my dad was at Christmas. Maybe that makes me a bad son — I dont know.
But I went to visit the fam. It was nice, I guess. Uneventful — except that we watched the DVD my aunt made for my grandfather’s 80th birthday. It was pretty well done. It was basically a slideshow with music on the DVD. I was surprised. It actually made me kind’a sad. It had pictures of my family since my grandfather was a young man in the military.
But it showed pictures of my grandmother (before she died) and of my aunt (before she died too) — and pictures of their funerals… and it made me sad. I really liked both of them — and I miss them. It had pictures there of me as a baby with my aunt and grandmother … as well as pictures of my dad and uncles when they were kids. It was really … family. Not all the political bullshit I deal with my immediate family. But it was a group of people who care abot each other and help the others succeed. Well, at least that’s what it looked like. (I know otherwise.)
Still. It’s amazing to see my grandfather as this attractive young man, progressing through manhood, to this slumpish gray man he is now. He can’t see well, can’t hear hardly at all. Shakes more than anything, and walks slower and slower. Kind’a sad. I need to try to get up there and see him. Maybe in July if I can afford it.

short and sweet

What a blah weekend. I’m not so much looking forward to this next week … it’s gonna long and hard — and not in that good way. No need to say anything. But I did find a little ditty today that I thought I would share for whoever may read.

sordid lives…

I talked to my father this morning about his trip to Idaho to see my ailing grandfather for his 80th birthday. The trip went well overall, no problems with his flights or anything.
Then he told me about my cousin, Renee, who apparently has a new baby. And a new husband. And, ya know — I’ve always been rather hesitant to say my cousin in white-trash. I’d always suspected it, of course, but hesitated to make the declaration. So here’s the story of my cousin.
We grew up together. She’s about 3 or 4 years younger than me. She’s always been sorta the rebel, while i was always … well … gay. She was the type that always had bleach blonde hair in high school, too much eyeliner, constantly getting in fights during school — always playing the tough guy (tho she’s not a lesbian). She moved up to Idaho to get away from “trouble” — but continued to get in trouble, just not as much because there … well … isn’t that much trouble to get into in Idaho unless you want to be a polygamist.
Anyway, time goes on — she meets this guy, gets pregnant. (I don’t know the exact order of all the upcoming events, so bear with me). She has this baby (which everyone gave her a hard time because it was out of wedlock). She started drinking a lot and was having constant problems with her husband. They eventually divorce and she gets custody of the kid (hooray!). Well, she continues to drink, get tattoos, etc, wrecks a car or something. CPS eventually comes and takes the kid away, gives him back to the dad. (hooray!) More drinking, more tattoos. Her mom dies of a heart attack and she inherits like $60,000. It’s gone in like 3 weeks on drinking, a new car, partying, and such.
Last I had heard, she had a trailer and was living on the side of some mountain in Idaho.
Until today when i spoke to my dad — who informed me that she is now married again, with another baby. Apparently the husband is cheating on her with someone, she went out to find them at some bar — found his sister instead, kicked her ass, got thrown in jail. Then the husband came to get her and kicked her ass for kicking his sisters ass and has, apparently, now threatened to kill her or something.
Really interesting. I never would have suspected that Renee would have turned out like that. Of course, I can only imagine that the rest of the family thinks the same about me being gay and sleeping with the entire gay population of Houston, jumping from drug-induced euphoria to drunken stupor, to sinful (yet hot) homosexual orgies. But, just like my story about Renee, they don’t know all the facts. (I so don’t sleep with ANYONE — much less do drugs OR orgies. Geez. If I did, you know I’d write about it here.)
Anyway, so that’s the sordid saga of Renee. White trash nail-tech living in a trailer on the sie of a mountain in Idaho with cigarette in one hand, bottle of beer in the other. Two babies, two ex-husbands (or soon to be).
Makes me wonder if she’s happy.

uma mudan

Muitas coises sao differente agora. Sentiementos sao mudando, e eu nao senti o mesmo. Eu sempre escreve em portugues quando eu nao entende o que p’ra fazer procimo. Coisas sao dificil quando voce nao pode ter o que voce quere. E mais dificil quando nao pode dizer nada p’ra ninguem. Eu posso escriver aqui, e vai ajudar um poco — eu nao gosto muito do ci

uma mudan

Muitas coises sao differente agora. Sentiementos sao mudando, e eu nao senti o mesmo. Eu sempre escreve em portugues quando eu nao entende o que p’ra fazer procimo. Coisas sao dificil quando voce nao pode ter o que voce quere. E mais dificil quando nao pode dizer nada p’ra ninguem. Eu posso escriver aqui, e vai ajudar um poco — eu nao gosto muito do ci

prison or probe.?

So, we have 15 minutes until we learn if MJ is guilty or innocent — or rather, which of the 13 charges he’s guilty of. Will he go to prison or will he get probation? I don’t particularly care for him or his music. I, in fact, think he is rather freaky (aesthetics aside) and he makes my wee tuck up inside. I’m sure he’s a delightful person if you get to know him. But, fact of the matter being, I don’t know him, and he still creeps me the fuck out.
So, I hope he’s found guilty. If nothing else, just to spite an ex of mine who thought he was God’s gift to humanity.
More like God’s gift to plastic surgeons.

i was only dreamin’

I had a dream about The Boy

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