Tuesday, November 18, 2008

ANOTHER WEEK...


This commuting thing is beginning to get me down. I basically spend Sunday night through Wednesday afternoon in my own apartment, with Monday night off in the Goat's Hideaway. Wednesday night it's back to the Hideaway, and then off to my part-time job near my old home-town at the crack of dawn Thursday morning. I work two ten-hour days to get half a week under my belt in two days, spend Saturday morning running errands for my grandmother, and then head back to the Hideaway for Saturday night. The thing I hated most about my so-called "career" was living out of a suitcase. Now my "career" has gone to hell, and I am back to living on the road again. You would think I had always wanted to become a traveling salesman.

It's very weird being back so close to where I used to live, and even having to drive by what used to be my house on occasion. I keep seeing people I haven't seen for two years who no longer recognize me--which is very odd. I mean, I know that I'm officially a faggot and not meant to be there anymore, but I haven't changed that much. Well, maybe I have. In any case, it 's odd seeing people I used to hang out with a lot who don't seem to pick up on my presence; most of the time I just let it go. Sometimes it's startling to see how people have aged. Not so much in two years, of course, but since I last really noticed them. When you live with people week in and week out, you don't notice the changes the way you do if you go away and come back. I'm not the only one around town who's gotten a lot older in the last several years...

Well, as I said, it's weird being there but not belonging there, and it's weird to be living out of a suitcase again.

Then, to top things off, the Goat finally just came out and said that we can't sleep in the same bed. Between the snoring and the twitching he just can't get enough sleep--executive fiat. I seem to recall that it was no problem at all when he wasn't working, but then, when is he not working, during the school-year? So I go from being able to snuggle up and go to sleep next to a human furnace to climbing into a chilly single bed all on my own. It's true that we usually put his bed to good use before then, but it seems like a hell of a let-down after all the months of togetherness.

I guess the honeymoon is officially over.

So I went and bought my third electric blanket today, so I can crawl into a warm single bed instead of a cold one. [I already have one to warm up each of the other two beds I sleep in during the week, so I guess this makes a full house. I just set them on broil for an hour or so before bedtime, climb in, turn them off, lie back and luxuriate.] My other stop on the errands run was to pick up a pair of new snow-boots: my old ones just split down the middle and let snow and water into all the places they had kept them out of before. And I bought the Goat's Christmas present--something I know he wants and would probably never buy for himself--just the sort of thing I never get my act together to do, but this time I did. Could I be growing wise as well as old? It was a day about shoveling money out the window. Unlike yesterday.

Yesterday we had another woodpile party. I knew I was in trouble when Himself spent Sunday afternoon splitting wood; sure enough, now that the wood he split had frozen together, it was my turn to tear it up out of the ground and off each other and wheelbarrow it down to the basement window. My hands were so cold by the time we had it all in that I thought they would never thaw out. The Goat, on the other hand, was so proud of his handiwork that he asked in the special tone he uses when he needs a favor whether I didn't want to climb down into the stove basement and look at the pile. The short answer is "no." The long answer is "No, but I'll be right down anyway." It was a lovely pile, but it was also @#$%-ing freezing down there, where the window had been wide open all the time I had been wheelbarrowing back and forth...

Tonight we watched an almost-good gay movie from Thailand: Bangkok Love Story. The "boy" lead [Chaiwat Thongsaeng] was so beautiful I almost stopped breathing--major ear action, there, for anyone else who's interested--but the writer/director/producer/designer [Poj Arnon], with no one else around to argue with about things, did make some very odd choices along the way. Not the kind of neat Hollywood story-telling I was somehow expecting, anyway. Is this a Thai thing, or a gay movie thing? It's actually not the kind of movie the publicity still make you think it is, at least not as "edited for the UK and North America," whatever that means.

The Goat was of the opinion that there must have been particularly naughty "naughty bits" and that they had been clipped out; if so, I want them back...

Hang in there, all.
C

1 comment:

  1. Oh, how I can relate to the wood-pile blues.
    Sorry to hear that the honeymoon is over!
    Snuggling is so nice on winter nights, too...

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