I'll be on a Rocky Mountain high in 72 hours!! Or maybe I'll be high on a Rocky Mountain. We will see which way it works out. I hope we get decent weather while Im there. I want to go snowboarding. Or see a cute snowboarder. I want to hike too. Im going to be on a plane!!! Woohoo!
In the meantime, if you miss me, read the previous posts.
Have a lovely time while Im away! Be good. And yes, you may invite people over when Im gone. Just make sure you leave everything as you found it.
Tuesday, October 28, 2003
Sunday, October 26, 2003
I wish today was yesterday. I dont mean it as wishing I didnt have to wake up for work tomorrow, but I want to experience the essence of yesterday again.
If you read the last post, I was up at 7:30am on a Saturday. Call me crazy. I'll call myself crazy. Im crazy. But I had my 9am haircut. Priorities, priorities.
I take the half hour drive to my fave salon to get my haircut. I actually havent been there in months, because it was too far away. I also didnt think I deserved a high class haircut just to sit at home. Now Im in a whole different ballgame.
I was very excited for this day to come. I walk in, and I was having someone else cut my hair, and not my man Joe. This was only because Saturday was the only day I was free, and he wasnt. When Joe saw me, he told me I needed my highlights. I said I wanted something dynamic, and he knew just what to do. So I decided to get the highlights as well. How's that for spontaneity? Before my haircut Joe and I chitchatted about the boy scene, and each time I go in, he tells me of a new place I should go for some eye candy. I love having a gay hairdresser.
Im sit in the chair, and Joe is telling Kathy how to cut my hair, and he mixes the color and tells her how to color it. She knows how to cut, but Joe and I share a bond. He understands my hair. Then after the highlights and cut was finished, he told her how to do my hair. Then he came outside with me, in the sun, with a mirror to show off my highlights to myself.
Right after I was all styled up, I went into NYC. I hopped off the train and took the subway to Union Square. From there I had a lovely walk to a coffee shop called the Higher Ground in th East Village, where I met my friend. The weather was wonderful, I wanted to sit outside all day. We then went to this small Italian place for a quick bite to eat. It was awesome. This is one friend I can totally be myself around, quirks and all. This is someone who understands the art of conversation. I love listening to him as well, because he's so knowledgable on so many different levels. I learn so much. Plus, we also decided what Im doing for my birthday and New Years.
Unfortunately, he had a prior engagement, so he had to leave. I didnt really know what to do at that point. I was near my old apartment building. So I called D'ex.
Dont berate me. Hear me out.
D'ex says I can come on over. I went. My heart was litererally in my ears. I could feel it pounding. I hadnt seen him for 4 months at that point. Thats a long time when you've liked someone. He left his door open for me like he always does. When I walked in, I had expected him to be wearing his flannel pants, his white undershirt and socks. Instead, I got a clean shaven, sweater and jeans with nice black shoes wearing D'ex. I said, "You didnt have to get dressed up for me." And he said, "We're going out!" What?! This was a first. I completely underestimated him. He was taken aback when I told him how surprised I was at the prospect of us actually leaving his apartment. Then we started ballroom dancing. We did. D'ex and Dr.P style. This is 'normal' for us.
We walked to Lombardi's for pizza. It was a real fun walk. We were talking and laughing so much. He was very complimentary towards me. I dont know why all this surprised me, but it did. I felt so good. He was so nice and sincere. Even though I was floating on air, I knew I had to keep my feet on the ground. I know the story by now. Even if he did like me, there's just no way. Plus at his house, I saw a few new girls' phone numbers on his memo board (under my name), and I have no intention on being second fiddle to anyone. (He still has a cute note I wrote to him up on the board too).
Through all the fun, laughs, and serious conversation, I realized how I've changed too. I knew I was a different person than when he last saw me. We were so happy to see each other, and I believe a major reason was familiarity. We're comfortable with each other. We know there are no limits to the things we say. We didnt have to question each other. For a brief moment, I didnt want to leave.
I loved seeing him. I did let him hold my hand for a little bit. I miss that kind of warmth. After dinner, we walked back and he dropped me at my subway station. We hugged and kissed each other on the cheek. Then I went down into the subway station. I thought I would have a difficult time leaving, because I had so much fun. As natural as it was to see him, leaving him felt just as natural.
I felt free.
If you read the last post, I was up at 7:30am on a Saturday. Call me crazy. I'll call myself crazy. Im crazy. But I had my 9am haircut. Priorities, priorities.
I take the half hour drive to my fave salon to get my haircut. I actually havent been there in months, because it was too far away. I also didnt think I deserved a high class haircut just to sit at home. Now Im in a whole different ballgame.
I was very excited for this day to come. I walk in, and I was having someone else cut my hair, and not my man Joe. This was only because Saturday was the only day I was free, and he wasnt. When Joe saw me, he told me I needed my highlights. I said I wanted something dynamic, and he knew just what to do. So I decided to get the highlights as well. How's that for spontaneity? Before my haircut Joe and I chitchatted about the boy scene, and each time I go in, he tells me of a new place I should go for some eye candy. I love having a gay hairdresser.
Im sit in the chair, and Joe is telling Kathy how to cut my hair, and he mixes the color and tells her how to color it. She knows how to cut, but Joe and I share a bond. He understands my hair. Then after the highlights and cut was finished, he told her how to do my hair. Then he came outside with me, in the sun, with a mirror to show off my highlights to myself.
Right after I was all styled up, I went into NYC. I hopped off the train and took the subway to Union Square. From there I had a lovely walk to a coffee shop called the Higher Ground in th East Village, where I met my friend. The weather was wonderful, I wanted to sit outside all day. We then went to this small Italian place for a quick bite to eat. It was awesome. This is one friend I can totally be myself around, quirks and all. This is someone who understands the art of conversation. I love listening to him as well, because he's so knowledgable on so many different levels. I learn so much. Plus, we also decided what Im doing for my birthday and New Years.
Unfortunately, he had a prior engagement, so he had to leave. I didnt really know what to do at that point. I was near my old apartment building. So I called D'ex.
Dont berate me. Hear me out.
D'ex says I can come on over. I went. My heart was litererally in my ears. I could feel it pounding. I hadnt seen him for 4 months at that point. Thats a long time when you've liked someone. He left his door open for me like he always does. When I walked in, I had expected him to be wearing his flannel pants, his white undershirt and socks. Instead, I got a clean shaven, sweater and jeans with nice black shoes wearing D'ex. I said, "You didnt have to get dressed up for me." And he said, "We're going out!" What?! This was a first. I completely underestimated him. He was taken aback when I told him how surprised I was at the prospect of us actually leaving his apartment. Then we started ballroom dancing. We did. D'ex and Dr.P style. This is 'normal' for us.
We walked to Lombardi's for pizza. It was a real fun walk. We were talking and laughing so much. He was very complimentary towards me. I dont know why all this surprised me, but it did. I felt so good. He was so nice and sincere. Even though I was floating on air, I knew I had to keep my feet on the ground. I know the story by now. Even if he did like me, there's just no way. Plus at his house, I saw a few new girls' phone numbers on his memo board (under my name), and I have no intention on being second fiddle to anyone. (He still has a cute note I wrote to him up on the board too).
Through all the fun, laughs, and serious conversation, I realized how I've changed too. I knew I was a different person than when he last saw me. We were so happy to see each other, and I believe a major reason was familiarity. We're comfortable with each other. We know there are no limits to the things we say. We didnt have to question each other. For a brief moment, I didnt want to leave.
I loved seeing him. I did let him hold my hand for a little bit. I miss that kind of warmth. After dinner, we walked back and he dropped me at my subway station. We hugged and kissed each other on the cheek. Then I went down into the subway station. I thought I would have a difficult time leaving, because I had so much fun. As natural as it was to see him, leaving him felt just as natural.
I felt free.
Saturday, October 25, 2003
Its 7:30am on a Saturday and Im wide awake. I actually woke up with the greatest of ease. I can assure you, this never happens on a workday.
I have a haircut at 9am, and Im debating going into NYC after the haircut. I'll have this (hopefully) great haircut, and Im wearing my awesomely comfortable yet hot, red shoes. I do not want to be in the situation where Im all dressed up with nowhere to go.
But its so damn cold outside. Im talking Face Freezing, Nose biting Cold. I have tropical blood. This whole winter thing doesnt work. Is it possible I can take part in the 6 months of hibernation thing?
Maybe I'll go to the city for a little bit. I want to go. Its just for the day. I'll brave the cold. Then I wont go at all in November. I'll go once. But thats it, because Im going to have to go a couple times in December.
Such are the debates of my life.
And no, the song in the winamp has not changed in over a week. Im still loving it.
I have a haircut at 9am, and Im debating going into NYC after the haircut. I'll have this (hopefully) great haircut, and Im wearing my awesomely comfortable yet hot, red shoes. I do not want to be in the situation where Im all dressed up with nowhere to go.
But its so damn cold outside. Im talking Face Freezing, Nose biting Cold. I have tropical blood. This whole winter thing doesnt work. Is it possible I can take part in the 6 months of hibernation thing?
Maybe I'll go to the city for a little bit. I want to go. Its just for the day. I'll brave the cold. Then I wont go at all in November. I'll go once. But thats it, because Im going to have to go a couple times in December.
Such are the debates of my life.
And no, the song in the winamp has not changed in over a week. Im still loving it.
Tuesday, October 21, 2003
Ok Kids. Had to post this. Especially since I mentioned the new book I bought.
So D'ex (I know, its been months and the pseudonym keeps coming up) has called me about 3 times in the past few weeks. Im taking a trip into NYC so I asked him (via email) if he was free to meet up for an hour or so. He replied and asked me if there is a cheesecake involved. I wrote back and asked him, "Is that a requirement? What would I get in return?"
And this is the reply I got:
not a requirement. I used to give you hugs in exchange for
cheesecake.
On the other hand I was operating with Dr.C today and we were
chatting
about my need for help with laundry. He feels that I deserve no pity
if I
need a good woman because I blew it with you. apparently Dr.C had high
hopes
for the two of us.
well, we'll chat later.
d
I was surprised and slightly amused to know that Im still being talked about. Im surprised D'ex even admitted the fact that this whole conversation occured. I left the hospital in March. I left the surgery department in that hospital in December 2002. And poor D'ex. His friends told him he shouldnt have broken up with me, and now the program director had to tell him. His ego must be shot.
As for me...well...my head is going to explode. Heh.
So D'ex (I know, its been months and the pseudonym keeps coming up) has called me about 3 times in the past few weeks. Im taking a trip into NYC so I asked him (via email) if he was free to meet up for an hour or so. He replied and asked me if there is a cheesecake involved. I wrote back and asked him, "Is that a requirement? What would I get in return?"
And this is the reply I got:
not a requirement. I used to give you hugs in exchange for
cheesecake.
On the other hand I was operating with Dr.C today and we were
chatting
about my need for help with laundry. He feels that I deserve no pity
if I
need a good woman because I blew it with you. apparently Dr.C had high
hopes
for the two of us.
well, we'll chat later.
d
I was surprised and slightly amused to know that Im still being talked about. Im surprised D'ex even admitted the fact that this whole conversation occured. I left the hospital in March. I left the surgery department in that hospital in December 2002. And poor D'ex. His friends told him he shouldnt have broken up with me, and now the program director had to tell him. His ego must be shot.
As for me...well...my head is going to explode. Heh.
I've never been one obsessed with clothes, style or how I look. I never cared about appliance knick knacks either.
Since I began work, my wardrobe has gotten bigger, I've bought a hair dryer, hair gel, I go for regular haircuts, and I now own a few appliance knick knacks.
Today, I had to leave my car for an oil change. This takes an hour. Lucky for me, the mechanic is strategically located in between 2 shopping plazas.
Let the happy hour begin.
As I started my walk, with purse and credit cards in hand, I made my first stop at the shoe store. I walked in, and the kind, generous shoe saleslady told me the wonderful news....Buy one pair, get the second for 50% off! How could I deny myself of this wonderful (limited time) offer? I didnt. I came out with a pair of knee high boots, and a pair of red shoes.
Next stop. Wal-mart. Dont laugh. This is single-handedly one of the greatest stores of all time.
I walk in and dont know where to begin. Im checking out the boys sweatshirts because they are big and baggy just how I love them. But I had a mission. My mission was to buy a de-icer for the car. Since its not nice and wintery, and I keep my car outside, a layer of ice forms on the windshield every single morning. Scraping without a scraper is not fun. Waiting 20 minutes for it to melt off the car is not fun. Then getting in the car and driving with only one clear spot and hoping the rest of the ice will melt off is just not a good idea. I felt cool being in the hardware section. Im looking around with confidence. "No thanks store-worker, I know what tools I need!" I walked out of Wal-Mart with the De-Icing spray, a plastic scraper, hangers, and a glue stick.
So Im walking with my 3 bags, and my fingers are literally turning blue trying to hold these bags, and I see a book sale. All books 50% off. A big fluorescent yellow and orange sign. I had to go in. 50% off signs were running rampant all over the bookstore. I had 10 minutes left before picking up my car. I searched and searched until I found one that seemed to fit. Its called "The Exes" by Pagan Kennedy. Its about all these 20-somethings who live and work together. The catch is, they are all exes of each other in some way. Sounds 90210-ish, so Im sure I'll be addicted in some way, shape or form. Plus its about putting up with exes, Im sure I can find some way to relate to that.
I walked back to my car, with my blue fingers holding my bags and paid for my oil changed. I put the bags in the trunk, and let my fingers feel the circulation again.
Relief, Happiness, and a few other necessary elements restored in the span of one hour. Mission completed.
Since I began work, my wardrobe has gotten bigger, I've bought a hair dryer, hair gel, I go for regular haircuts, and I now own a few appliance knick knacks.
Today, I had to leave my car for an oil change. This takes an hour. Lucky for me, the mechanic is strategically located in between 2 shopping plazas.
Let the happy hour begin.
As I started my walk, with purse and credit cards in hand, I made my first stop at the shoe store. I walked in, and the kind, generous shoe saleslady told me the wonderful news....Buy one pair, get the second for 50% off! How could I deny myself of this wonderful (limited time) offer? I didnt. I came out with a pair of knee high boots, and a pair of red shoes.
Next stop. Wal-mart. Dont laugh. This is single-handedly one of the greatest stores of all time.
I walk in and dont know where to begin. Im checking out the boys sweatshirts because they are big and baggy just how I love them. But I had a mission. My mission was to buy a de-icer for the car. Since its not nice and wintery, and I keep my car outside, a layer of ice forms on the windshield every single morning. Scraping without a scraper is not fun. Waiting 20 minutes for it to melt off the car is not fun. Then getting in the car and driving with only one clear spot and hoping the rest of the ice will melt off is just not a good idea. I felt cool being in the hardware section. Im looking around with confidence. "No thanks store-worker, I know what tools I need!" I walked out of Wal-Mart with the De-Icing spray, a plastic scraper, hangers, and a glue stick.
So Im walking with my 3 bags, and my fingers are literally turning blue trying to hold these bags, and I see a book sale. All books 50% off. A big fluorescent yellow and orange sign. I had to go in. 50% off signs were running rampant all over the bookstore. I had 10 minutes left before picking up my car. I searched and searched until I found one that seemed to fit. Its called "The Exes" by Pagan Kennedy. Its about all these 20-somethings who live and work together. The catch is, they are all exes of each other in some way. Sounds 90210-ish, so Im sure I'll be addicted in some way, shape or form. Plus its about putting up with exes, Im sure I can find some way to relate to that.
I walked back to my car, with my blue fingers holding my bags and paid for my oil changed. I put the bags in the trunk, and let my fingers feel the circulation again.
Relief, Happiness, and a few other necessary elements restored in the span of one hour. Mission completed.
Sunday, October 19, 2003
Yesterday, I took the road which lead back to my past. A past which has long since passed.
Once upon a time, I lived in a lovely little town in Vermont. From birth to age 6. I had wonderful neighbors, great friends, and a fab little life.
My best friend was a girl named Lizzie. We were the same age. We walked to school together every single day, and after school, we would play all sorts of crazy pretend games. One day at school, in the first grade, one boy started making fun of me, so Lizzie socked him. From that time, I knew we would always be friends.
When I was 6, my father got a new job and moved out of state. This shattered my little world. We were only 3 hours away, but it felt like a whole world away. I cried and cried til my lacrimal duct was dry. Lizzie and I kept in touch for a short time, then we lost each other. Only for a bit.
When I was 9, with thoughts of Vermont far from my mind, I received a letter from Lizzie. She had a new address within Vermont. I opened the letter, trembling with excitement that my best friend wrote to me. I wondered what was going on in her world. Did she get a new Cabbage Patch kid like I had? Did she get a Chinese Jump Rope?
Instead what I read, was something I couldnt comprehend as a 9 year old. Lizzie wrote to tell me that her Mother died. It didnt make sense. In my world, everyone has a mother and father, and there was a sequence in life of how things were supposed to happen. Her mother died? The same woman who would draw with us, and play Memory with us? It just wasnt possible.
It was Lizzie's reality. We wrote and wrote letters. She would ask me if she could mail herself and her sisters to my house, because she hated life without her mother. To keep the very long story short, we wrote about so many different things. My parents drove me up to her grandmothers house one day when I was 10 to see her and her 2 sisters. We went out for lunch. My parents bought them shirts, markers and sketch paper, since they had a love for art. I came home, and we resumed writing. We lost touch by age 11. Roughly.
When I was 15 I received a random letter from her and her sister with an update. Just like when I was 9, I was so excited, and I ripped the letter open, read the contents, and replied immediately. Only this time I didnt get a reply. My reply came 11 years later.
I was in India, at the internet cafe, checking my mail, and I see an email from Lizzie. I was shocked. She gave a short introduction to make sure I knew who she was and to make sure I was who she thought I was. I was so happy to hear from her. Again. I wrote back a 10K email about everything that had been going on in 11 years.
This time she replied immediately as well. Her email nearly broke my heart. I read about all the things she endured after her mother died. Her dad was a Vietnam Vet, with and undiagnosed Post Traumatic Stress Disorder from the war, and he could never control himself or his temper. Her aunt had thrown them out of their house. They lived in a one room apartment. She couldnt afford new clothes, so she had to sew her own. She told me the best day of her young childhood was the day we had come to visit. People in high school made fun of her all the time. Thankfully by college, things got better, but she will always be scarred.
So fast forward to yesterday. Yesterday was her bridal shower. I drove up with her sister who lives near me, to our old home. It was such a fun ride, and a lovely shower. The fall foliage was beautiful. It was great to see her finally happy. I met her friends from high school and college. Lizzie and myself are different as different can be. We are like fruit and Parker Pens. No similarites. But we are bonded forever.
After the shower I drove to my old neighborhood and saw my neighbors. My house wasnt as big as I remembered it. My yard wasnt as lush as I remembered it. It was a patch of grass to be honest. The visit to my neighbors house was wonderful. I really felt like I returned home again. To the way life should be. The Mrs. was ready to make chocolate chip cookies for me, because I loved them as a kid. I still do. The Mr.and Mrs. remembered little things about me and my family that we didnt even remember. They also remembered things that still hold true today. These are people we dont see every year. I didnt want to leave.
Eventually I did. I drove home with Lizzie's sister, since we live near each other. She told me all she wants is for her father to be happy. To find love again. Its been 18 years since their mother died, and he's never dated anyone else. He still puts flowers on her grave on her birthday, their anniversary, and Valentines Day.
Someone once asked him, "Why dont you try and date? Find someone to share your life with. You cant live all alone like this."
His response, "Some people in life can never be replaced."
That one statment summed up how I felt during the drive home yesterday.
Then Lizzie's sister and I shed a few tears for times and people in our lives which can never be replaced.
Once upon a time, I lived in a lovely little town in Vermont. From birth to age 6. I had wonderful neighbors, great friends, and a fab little life.
My best friend was a girl named Lizzie. We were the same age. We walked to school together every single day, and after school, we would play all sorts of crazy pretend games. One day at school, in the first grade, one boy started making fun of me, so Lizzie socked him. From that time, I knew we would always be friends.
When I was 6, my father got a new job and moved out of state. This shattered my little world. We were only 3 hours away, but it felt like a whole world away. I cried and cried til my lacrimal duct was dry. Lizzie and I kept in touch for a short time, then we lost each other. Only for a bit.
When I was 9, with thoughts of Vermont far from my mind, I received a letter from Lizzie. She had a new address within Vermont. I opened the letter, trembling with excitement that my best friend wrote to me. I wondered what was going on in her world. Did she get a new Cabbage Patch kid like I had? Did she get a Chinese Jump Rope?
Instead what I read, was something I couldnt comprehend as a 9 year old. Lizzie wrote to tell me that her Mother died. It didnt make sense. In my world, everyone has a mother and father, and there was a sequence in life of how things were supposed to happen. Her mother died? The same woman who would draw with us, and play Memory with us? It just wasnt possible.
It was Lizzie's reality. We wrote and wrote letters. She would ask me if she could mail herself and her sisters to my house, because she hated life without her mother. To keep the very long story short, we wrote about so many different things. My parents drove me up to her grandmothers house one day when I was 10 to see her and her 2 sisters. We went out for lunch. My parents bought them shirts, markers and sketch paper, since they had a love for art. I came home, and we resumed writing. We lost touch by age 11. Roughly.
When I was 15 I received a random letter from her and her sister with an update. Just like when I was 9, I was so excited, and I ripped the letter open, read the contents, and replied immediately. Only this time I didnt get a reply. My reply came 11 years later.
I was in India, at the internet cafe, checking my mail, and I see an email from Lizzie. I was shocked. She gave a short introduction to make sure I knew who she was and to make sure I was who she thought I was. I was so happy to hear from her. Again. I wrote back a 10K email about everything that had been going on in 11 years.
This time she replied immediately as well. Her email nearly broke my heart. I read about all the things she endured after her mother died. Her dad was a Vietnam Vet, with and undiagnosed Post Traumatic Stress Disorder from the war, and he could never control himself or his temper. Her aunt had thrown them out of their house. They lived in a one room apartment. She couldnt afford new clothes, so she had to sew her own. She told me the best day of her young childhood was the day we had come to visit. People in high school made fun of her all the time. Thankfully by college, things got better, but she will always be scarred.
So fast forward to yesterday. Yesterday was her bridal shower. I drove up with her sister who lives near me, to our old home. It was such a fun ride, and a lovely shower. The fall foliage was beautiful. It was great to see her finally happy. I met her friends from high school and college. Lizzie and myself are different as different can be. We are like fruit and Parker Pens. No similarites. But we are bonded forever.
After the shower I drove to my old neighborhood and saw my neighbors. My house wasnt as big as I remembered it. My yard wasnt as lush as I remembered it. It was a patch of grass to be honest. The visit to my neighbors house was wonderful. I really felt like I returned home again. To the way life should be. The Mrs. was ready to make chocolate chip cookies for me, because I loved them as a kid. I still do. The Mr.and Mrs. remembered little things about me and my family that we didnt even remember. They also remembered things that still hold true today. These are people we dont see every year. I didnt want to leave.
Eventually I did. I drove home with Lizzie's sister, since we live near each other. She told me all she wants is for her father to be happy. To find love again. Its been 18 years since their mother died, and he's never dated anyone else. He still puts flowers on her grave on her birthday, their anniversary, and Valentines Day.
Someone once asked him, "Why dont you try and date? Find someone to share your life with. You cant live all alone like this."
His response, "Some people in life can never be replaced."
That one statment summed up how I felt during the drive home yesterday.
Then Lizzie's sister and I shed a few tears for times and people in our lives which can never be replaced.
Wild. My name is Dr. Philomena, and welcome to my blog. Its a cold, frigid Sunday morning. Is this working for you? I'd like to think its working for me. THe first post is always awkward. Like a first date. I could hyper-type, and give you way too much information that could cause your brain to combust, or I could not say anything at all and make you wonder for a bit. Can I have a menu, please?