between heaven and work
The alarm went off this morning at 6:30am as it always does, only today I heard it. Normally my alarm will blare at 6:30am and every 9 minutes after due to my sub-conscious reflex of hitting the snooze button. I don’t even realize that I’ve done it until, sometimes, after hours of doing it.
Today, however, I was aware. I was going to get up early and go to the gym before starting my work week. I’d gone to bed early last night to allow me to get the sleep I needed, but when the alarm went off. I listened to the radio for a moment and contemplated my options. I could get up, get dressed and go work out, or I could stay here in my nice warm flannel-sheeted bed and float halfway between sleep and awake and relish the feeling.
I chose the later. There is something magical about the moments between sleep and waking that has always held me in its grasp. Even as a child I would “lollygag” in bed in the mornings before school, sometimes to the point of missing the bus.
As an adult, most of my jobs have allowed me flexibility with my hours, thus affording ample “lollygag” time in the waking hours.
I’m not sure what it is. But this morning, while I was laying there, listening to Stella’s soft breath from the bottom corner of my bed, everything was good. My life was good. I was content. I was smiling.
If only I could figure a way to maintain this effect throughout my day… It looks like the gym will wait until later.
November 27, 2004
adding to the list
everytime I meet someone new, I often find myself looking back at how others have left a mark on my life. Some have left important and deep marks and others have been like a gnat flitting about my face, distracting me from the world around.
This morning, I met my Blogger Daddy. I can’t describe what its like to meet someone that has had such a profound impact on my life other than to say, it was glorious. The twinkle in his eye throughout the day told me that we were on the same wavelength. We were both kinda awed at the situation and happy that we’ve finally met.
But meeting Blogger-Daddy as he will now be known to me, brought up memories of people that have passed through my life and has kinda made me pause and reflect on their contributions.
My memory of names has never been very good, which is why I often assign a nick-name to anyone that I expect to be staying for any length of time. (and I’ve come up with some fucked-up nicknames over the years.)
The early years of the 1990’s decade saw hundreds of people rotating through my life. Some good friends, some bad, some just faces in a crowd dancing to the music in the glow of the spinning lights. A few people stand out more than others. People that disappeared before I had a chance to let go or say goodbye. They haunt my memories and I find myself wondering about their whereabouts and lives.
Dash was one. Dash was a wild girl at least 5 years my junior. She spoke a language all her own and I was enthralled in her passionate love of life. She was a flash in my life that ignited a frenzy of activity and experimentation, of thought and of love. One day she was gone. I never heard from her again and I wonder about her, and I remember our walks thru Golden Gate Park and the Lower Haight district and I am thankful that I shared her with the world, even if just for a moment in time.
So Blogger Daddy, as long as you want to stay in my life, you’re welcome. I hope your moment lasts longer than a dash.
November 25, 2004
I’m thankful Fo’shizzle
In the spirit of the day…
I am thankful for: (in no order of significance)
I have many more things to be thankful for… but i don’t want to cry about how abundant my life (and ass) has become.
Happy Von-Turkey day to all and to all a good drink.
November 24, 2004
Finding cover in an insane world
Sponge meets world
I saw the Spongebob Squarepants Movie. No, not in my plush Spongebob Squarepants slippers like I originally planned. On Saturday afternoon, my roommate and I visited a friend’s house and convinced them they needed some time away from their adorable 4 year old daughter. As if we rehearsed it, we worked off each other and convinced them to allow us to “give them a break” and “go have a nice dinner” while we would watch their daughter.
“I know” I said, “Lets take her to see Spongebob Squarepants.”
“Sam?” Jen (my roommate) asked, “Do you like Spongebob Squarepants?”
Thus convinced, the parents loaded the car seat into Rikka and we were off to see Spongebob Squarepants.
There is something pretty cool about seeing a kid’s movie with a kid, although, I’m convinced I enjoyed the movie more than she did.
Next on my list is “Polar Express”.
Anybody have a small child in the immediate Chicago Area that would like a night off so I can borrow your kid to see a movie? Its a win-win situation.
November 22, 2004
change is coming to Beyondbuffalo
Hello Dear Reader (s?),
Beyond Buffalo is going thru an unprecedented growth as tens of people are now reading my daily words. Due to this unforeseen surge in readership, I’ve been forced to update my server capacity to allow for the increased traffic (to avoid the congestion most Chicago drivers suffer through daily) .
Soon, very soon, beyondbuffalo.blogspot.com will be moved to
drum roll please…
Please don’t check yet. I haven’t actually figured how to do this so it doesn’t work… tee hee hee. Oh, the site is mine, domain paid for all that, you know… even have everything loaded onto the server, I just can’t seem to get past the parent directory…
but… if you know how to make it work, e-mail me at: removed to avoid spam
T-shirts to follow. they’ll be friggin cool man
November 19, 2004
the find
on my trip to St. Louis last weekend, I did what any normal gay-boy with a dog and a station wagon would do. I went Antique shopping with a friend through the Central West End area of the city. Its a cute little area, full of gays, bohemians, artists, you know the type, and literally stumbled upon this chair in the basement of a shop. I had to have it. I think it works nicely. Now if I can only find an ottoman to match it.
November 17, 2004
memories catch up
It’s been a few days since I’ve posted and the only excuse I can give is that my mind has been elsewhere. Well, in one specific spot. A little lower… lower. there ya go!
I’ve been obsessed with getting some, ahem, attention.
I was going to write about my trip to St. Louis, but there has been something more pressing on my mind this week. I’m actually starting to worry about my sanity lately. It seems that I’m addicted to my Internet connection. I don’t want to be too far away from it for fear that I’ll miss something, an e-mail, a breaking news story, a really nice dick shot on my favorite porn site. It has started to control taken over my life.
I took a step back from things to try to gather my thoughts (which is why I haven’t written) and it hit me. I’m lost.
Remembering all the fun I had in St. Louis and all the adventures I enjoyed with my friends throughout the years has painfully illuminated my current situation. I am alone in so many ways that I’ve been trying to run away from the feelings for the past 3 weeks (at least).
I miss my friends. I miss the little brown one, I miss KK, I miss the Padre, and I even miss Joe from time to time. I’ve not had a whole lot of close friends in my life, partly because I’m the slowest to let people get close to me, and partly because I tend to isolate myself, so when the few friends that I have are thousands of miles away from me, it affects me tremendously.
Over the years, I’ve managed to bury these emotions, in alcohol, in drugs, in sex, in shopping and now in the Internet.
I think its time to stop running. Its time to stop being afraid. Its time to figure out why.
Or maybe I need to move.
Or maybe I need to sit still and be with my thoughts, without outside interference.
When I first moved to St. Louis, I dated a wonderful man named Ed who is no longer with us. Ed passed away many years ago of AIDS and his death was the closest loss I had due to the disease. I will always remember the telephone call. I was sitting at the dinning room table when TL (my partner of 5 years) came in and handed me the phone telling me that it was some woman calling about a guy named Ed.
He held me that night. We lay on the bed and he held me while I cried.
November 11, 2004
a pre-emptive attack
I’m not a well woman.
I was sitting in the car at one of the billions of stop-lights in Chicago this afternoon absent-mindedly rubbing my 4 day old beard growth searching for rogue hairs.
I found one and couldn’t wait to get home and pull it out.
I have mutant hairs. Not many, but a few and they manifest themselves whenever I decide to cultivate my creative side in facial hair.
“Mutant?” you gasp? (as well you should!)
“Yes, mutant!”
A few hairs decide to co-habitat in a single pore but end up mutating together into a sorta of “Super-Hair” that is considerably thicker than the rest of my beard. These so-called “Super-Hairs” often become ingrown and get red and painful, so when I was younger, I began a Bush-styled pre-emptive strike forcefully tearing them from my skin in a surprisingly painless stealth-like attack. Over time this became habit forming and, much like our leader, I found that I enjoyed this pre-emptive style of attack and I took to it religiously.
Now, after years and years of endless pre-emptive attacks on the same rouge,mutant, “Super-hairs” I find myself wondering if the glee I get from finding them is really in my best interest at all…
Excuse me while I find my tweezers and get this sucker.