Tuesday, May 15, 2007


OK, it started off easily enough. We had a major deadline in my morning office, and I stayed an extra hour or two to deal with that. Then I grabbed lunch and did some computer cleaning before heading off north to visit someone who had turned up on my radar through work (in the morning office):

someone who turns out to be a Very Close Friend of one of my father's German cousins. A sudden connection between my gay and my pre-gay lives, which at this point don't admit of much blending. But here was a major worm-hole between the two...

That was weird enough.

The invitation to tea turned out to be just that, and we spent a very enjoyable two hours chatting about this and that. It turns out that there are all these other complicated connections, and just when I thought I might have passed the "coffee test" and get asked to supper -- it was after 6 pm -- I was asked by my host to come see the garden and by his partner if I had left anything in the house. That was a pretty clear sign that I had not, in fact, passed the coffee test. I may be dumb, but I am not stupid, so I packed up my coat and hat (I had expected it to rain) and headed out into the garden. A @#$%-ing incredible garden, which they claim to "do" all by themselves, though if they mow all that lawn on their own, I am the Emperor of China...

I was driving home, it was already late for dinner, when I realized that this was the night that one of the hockey players from my afternoon job bar-tends at a restaurant near me, so I drove there instead of home. He insisted on buying me a beer, I insisted on buying a second one so I could leave him a tip, and so by the time I hit the road to go home, I was (a) late and (b) well-lubricated. I was half-way home when my mother called to thank me for the giant artichoke I had brought her when I went up there for dinner. See, I said? I did bring you a flower for Mother's Day after all! [Hahaha. Well, you take points where you can get them...] Then, as I hung up, the phone rang. It was the Goat.

OK, I find his voice incredibly sexy. In fact, I had to pull over and park just to be sure I wouldn't drive off the road. OK, HE HAD CALLED ME. That always makes me feel better. Better? On the top of the @#$%-ing world. OK, he was being particularly sweet about our upcoming visit, and even allowed as how the food I had brought out last time was FINE. [Whether I believe him or not is another story...]

He was just getting going, then complained that my signal was fading, so I pulled a U-turn and drove back to where I have a good signal -- a mile or two back up the road to town, in the parking lot of the local McDonald's: that's the furthest out from town that my signal is reliable, so I drove in and parked. He talked and talked, and I got happier and happier, and almost without realizing it, hornier and hornier. The real problem is: HE HAD CALLED ME.

That always makes me think that there is some chance that eventually this might have a future, which makes me go @#$%-ing wild. At this point, if he had told me to drive my car off a cliff so he could listen to what happened over my cell phone, I probably would have done it.

I have absolutely no resistance at all
. I repeated that I had no preconceptions, that my entire life was an unknown from July 19th of last year on, so wherever it went is wherever it went: I had given up trying to steer it. Of course, I have NOT given up hoping that it goes where I want it to at the moment, but I basically am, honestly, taking it a day at a time and not going beyond that. How could I?

I have no idea where I am going, let alone the rest of the world.

I was so wild when he hung up and I had to drive home, I nearly wept all the way there just from hunger for him. I almost got on the highway and drove out to the Big Woods to kiss him, even if I just had to get back in the car and drive right back again. I was just overwhelmed with a longing to feel his lips on me, and to have him in my arms.

Sometimes eleven days is just too long after all.
It doesn't exactly help that every time I close a computer program I am staring at his ugly mug on my desktop... It's the combination of ugliness and beauty that completely undoes me: I have always had a thing for "ugly." There, I've said it. UGLY LIBERATION!

It is, of course, my only hope...

Anyway, it made for a long and rather confusing day, and I still hadn't had anything to eat when I got home. Then it hit me, having posted only yesterday "What a Difference a Year Makes." That is complete horse-shit. All of this Goat-mania resembles nothing so much as the Troll going off the deep end over the Pig Demon and the Far-Flung Voice a year ago. Words get said; there is no going back, even when there is no way forward and no way out. Some people just can't get their little pink act together, no matter how much time you give them...

Ye gods, help me hold onto the little sanity I have left.
God knows there isn't much of it left.
One day at a time, one day at a time, one day at a time.

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