Differing Opinions

It's the first picture that has been taken of us as a couple. In Miami. It was sweet and someone posted it on facebook. I was excited to have it and made it my main profile picture. The Construction worker is so private. He is extremely private. He told me I have unearthed his privacy for the world to see. The photo was pulled up on a computer in his coffee shop. He was shocked and embarrassed. Why would anyone put a picture of them with their boyfriend as a main picture on facebook? All these thoughts went through his mind while I sat at work, proud of my new picture.

He told me it bothered him. It seems to have really bothered him. I apologized and took the photo down. He still wanted to press the issue. I told him to slow his reminders. I know what I have done wrong and I understand the line that has been crossed.

Ah, privacy. Oh, love! How these things happen and make it all the more complicated over a simple issue. He used text as his form of confronting. What a way to deal with an issue. In 140 characters or less.

Dead Floral Tributes

I have a small Off-Broadway play I am getting paid an equally small stipend for. Paid work is better than free work. Despite the fact it's two jobs for the price of one. I can do this, I am stronger than you think. I am Assistant Stage Manager and Wardrobe Dresser. I am the Alpha and the Omega. I am the beginning and the end.

Lena Horne has died. This saddens me, I am uploading her Broadway show to listen to tomorrow.

I went to Miami for the weekend. Glamor! It was the preview to Greece. I bite my tongue when I observe how older people act. They are fun, but there is a feeling that the Ice Man Cometh at times.

I wrote the above about two weeks ago.

I come to you now. It's a simple and strange life I lead. I am discovering the idea of dating, loving, being with someone. I am still trying to understand it. We're going on to 10 months and before you know it, it will indeed be a year. How funny, the year has flown. Time does move faster as you get older.

Tonight was a first. The Construction Workers life has been difficult, as most of ours has been. He's been drinking . . .much more than I would necessarily enjoy. I see why, I know why. I am often the sober one, why is this? Is it because I am keeping my eye on him? I want to seem mature? A mixture of those feelings. Tonight he went to a birthday party at a private apartment. So the alcohol was flowing and free. We drank. We all drank. He drank more and had eaten nothing.

We finally decided to head home. I had my bike. I love my bike, it's loyal to me. This year has been a big year of changing. I got a kitten and have raised it. I have a bike that I ride religiously and I have a boyfriend. I obviously am into changing myself. I am open to learning. Moments will come and they will be part of life. Tonight is one of those nights.

I used to drive upstate all the time. I am king of the speeding tickets! I even had to attend a defensive driving class! I am notorious upstate! The Construction Worker was drinking, much more than I expected. My bike was in the back of his car. "We need to take a car service home. I can't drive." I was happy he made this decision on his own, but my bike! I needed my bike for tomorrow morning. As I stay up past two AM, I wonder if will be riding tomorrow. I shall though, it's the only constant I know I can control these days.

I told him. "I can drive." I was saying it! I've always had this immobilizing fear of driving in the city.

Now you may be wondering, was he drunk? No. I was in the conscious mind. I was alert and knew that my bike was in the backseat. I needed it. The construction worker is imperfect. He is going through hard times too. He lacks the sense to judge what is too much drink, what is dumb in choosing drinking over eating. In the 40 years of his life he has kept these ideals true.

It pains me to see this. In my youth I have been through plenty. People who know me, know this much is true. I haven't experienced nearly enough in my years, but the things I have gone through are beyond experience. I have taken a year of therapy to comfort myself into this feeling. I have attended support groups. I am a whole being and even in my youth I just am bothered by this.

Here I am. A 24-year-old. Who fears driving in the city. Has NEVER driven in the city. Is volunteering to drive his drunk boyfriend home. In all honestly he couldn't drive and I knew I could. I am not a complete dependent. I can drive and I have seen him take the route home plenty of times. I felt like I held my breath the entire time. I was so tense, but I did it. I got to my apartment. Listening to Lady Gaga on the radio. I have driven my mother's SUV plenty of times, but his car is larger and more broken down. The side mirrors are falling off and the rear view mirror is atrocious. I did it though. Kudos for me. Sadness to the Construction Worker.

I am faced with his weakness. The bottle. In all my drugs, all my addictions. I can understand why a lost soul like myself would go astray. Here is a man who has done it all. Built and sold businesses, lived on a boat, promoted the best clubs in NYC, and all these other successes. To see him in a state is what makes a partner feel human. There is his weakness, his battle, his truth.

I know what ails him. The thing which I could easily make discussion about and yet I slightly avoid it. I am trying to understand it. I know he is not an alcoholic, he has even defended it at times. I know how he feels. I do feel I should speak though, there is my worries. I worry. I will mention it tomorrow.

You drove his car home for him. That's not something that has happened everyday. This is the third event you were waiting for. It shakes you because you had to do it, yet the act itself was a simple event. You care for him and that's what any lover would do in the case. Your personal fears do not reflect the actual setting in place. This man has lived his entire life in the city, but he let you drive home. Oh the dilemma!

Keep Rolling On

The robbery was a lot to deal with. Filing a police report complete with many different phone calls and being put on hold. It seems that filing a police report is the key to everything. They are sending me a replacement iPod. In my mind iPod's take $4 to actually put together. $179.00 to sell. So they'd sooner mail me another one, despite the fact it was stolen in the mail. So I am sending it to a friends place, that comes complete with a doorman who holds all packages. Success!

The boy who I thought would be my future roommate is having some financial problems. He has given fears of doubt and I understand that. Life is full of understanding moments. It's full of tests of meditation. So I must continue my search for a new roommate. One of life's greatest trials. Onward ho!

I have placed an ad in the paper and responses are coming in. It's overwhelming.

Hobbies

I need to take up a hobby. I have entered the real world, the blinds have been lifted. It's been almost a year since I graduated and it's unsettling. This world I have entered into, on the brink of destruction. I am trying my hardest to stay focused. I have grown a lot, it takes time, but growth is seen throughout the year. I just need a hobby, something to take up time. Biking or trying to write. Joining some sort of writing group. Get feedback and eventually become a Pulitzer prize winner.

Until then, I will try to keep myself busy. There are things that will happen and they will be intense. I am going to Miami, I think, about two weeks. It was a sudden decision, and I have never been to Miami. Then there is Greece. The shows. There are things, I just need more things.

Property of Honey Beeson

I've grown up around stealing all my life. I realized this yesterday and I am sure other people have witnesses as much stealing as I have in my life. I have seen a cast of characters to choose from as thousands of dollars were taken from my father's closet. I have watched as the thief gets justice over the right parties because they couldn't take being in the wrong.

So when I was stolen from only a week ago. I knew there was a feeling that all this would feel familiar. My iPod Nano has been stolen, from someone in my building. Actually this crime has been fairly easy to settle, but still is strange.

It baffles me that human beings can be so deceitful. That you can actually look me in the face and tell me you didn't steal my iPod. Then later I am to find out that you registered my iPod under your name and address. Tsk, tsk. It's scary though, maybe someone is trying to sabotage you. You did say this has happened to you before. Me thinks she is trying to scam me. . .

Lovely Realities. . .Blame it on age.

I wrote an email, because I was told to do so if something is on my mind. I wrote you an email because I am young and articulation is not something I do best. I worry about things that I shouldn't. I simply write them out.

Your reaction to the email was strange and puts more thoughts into my mind. Oh, it's a vicious cycle. I can see your faults and I need to decide what's going to happen. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't a good talk either. It simply felt like it happened. He held onto me while we spoke. I write emails, he deals with it in liquor.

I've spent the last few days thinking about our relationship. There were some interesting points made, by some things that weren't liked as well. He accepts that he forgets I am only 24. I accept that I have built an image of what he should be. I am trying to put that idolization out of my head. His weakness is relationships. I look at successful people all the time. The lonely ones. They always are unhappy in love it seems.

They can build fortunes and companies. Make themselves known, but cannot connect to anyone. The Construction Worker is such a being and I see that in him now. He is not a demi-God no matter how much he puts on the image. His faults are in his emotions. You're strong in emotions, but a little to strong.

We shall see how it develops. I do feel love for him. Though it's not been said. Is 8 months to soon to be thinking about it? Or should I have said it at 3 months. Like everyone else around me. I find love in the things unsaid. Time is the achieving factor in all this. The experience gained. The future will be forged in its own path. Jobs to be done. Boring jobs. A new roommate or new place to live. A trip to Greece. A Lady Gaga concert to be seen. Plays to view. Hi ho the glamorous life!

NAACP

Things change so quickly. I have a telephone interview, but in the last couple of days I have begun working at the NAACP. It was supposed to be for scanning, but it seems that I am making a little more money, to create some sort of index. It's foolish and a little overwhelming. There is no supervision, but it seems like a place to make a mistake. I know I probably will.

Supervisor isn't my ideal in anyway. There is rumor that I will be a supervisor to scanners, but I do believe that is a lie. We shall see. The hours have changed and I'm going to have to get used to a new schedule. Then there's the telephone interview tomorrow that could lead to a better job.

Then there's the Lady Gaga tickets I just got for Atlantic City! It's on July 4th, which makes it a couple days ahead of the one in New York City. Plus, I rarely ever want a reason to go to Atlantic City. This is good enough reason to make the journey out. I think I will wrap lace around my head.

Butterflies Are Free

Everyday I apply to a job, or I try to. I'm trying to ride my bike more often, but with the rain that has been difficult. I am doing the five boro bike tour in the beginning of May. It's going to be an exciting day. I will be doing it with my brother. We don't normally talk, I'm not very close to my siblings.

I know that my brother is 28-years-old and just bought his first house. It's in upstate New York, close to the rest of my family. Bike riding doesn't require a lot of conversation, which will make the day move along nicely.

I'm watching Butterflies are Free. With Goldie Hawn in the role that Blythe Danner made famous. Goldie's hair is so big! She's a delight, especially to see her really acting. She's so cute and sincere.

Rainy Nights and Days

It's been raining all night and day. It's been aggravating and has forced me to stay inside for most of the night. I've been stir crazy and watching episodes of The Office and playing video games. I feel like I've taken a vow of silence, there is no one around. Except Bumble, who doesn't make much conversation.

The days have been filled with confusion and a fear of the future. In a recent play I saw there was a line that was said, "Life is full of pain, but it's up to you if you want to do the suffering." In the mediocre show, this line was sappy, but appreciated. Especially when it was spoken by Tallulah Bankhead by way of Valerie Harper. That's how I have been feeling life is right now, full of painful moments. Though I'm trying valiantly not to suffer to much.

I talked with The Construction Worker about my fears about myself. I am trying to accept the fact that I've met a man who has my best interests in mind. It felt slightly pitiful to realize all these fears are in my head. I have such a difficult time articulating myself. I fear for my apartment situation. I fear for my financial future. I fear for a lot of things.

Which way is home?

My Nose

I had an accident with my sleeping pills and sleepwalking. It ended with part of my nose being cut off, literally. I took one sleeping pill when I was awake, but while I was sleepwalking, I took four more. That's where it all began and ended. I walked around the apartment thinking there was someone there. Then I climbed out onto the fire escape and called The Construction Worker on my phone. . .while asleep.

Luckily I climbed back into the apartment in a sleepy haze. As I climbed into the window I fell. I hit my head against the window and my glasses sliced off a part of my nose. True story. I woke up then, but was still drugged up and in a haze. I sat in blood and waited for the Constructive Worker to arrive. He healed me and put me to bed. . .

It was his birthday.

The Calm

Seasons are changing and it's getting warmer out. I've purchased a new phone and have downgraded to a simple phone. I think it's a simple phone, but we're doing it to downgrade the price of an iPhone.

Then there is the changing of the jobs. I'm applying to things and certain funds are ending. There are things that have been said and the future rests on these choice words. The future rests on so much and it looks slightly grimmmm at times.

I have been feeling mad at times. I am swallowing my pride these days and sorting paper. Sorting paper. Sorting paper. Always with the sorting of the paper. Where once was a time that I felt dreams were possible. They still are, but I can't figure the simpler things out.

My boyfriend is silent most times. I am not sure what is on his mind and that makes me anxious. His thoughts are deep and quiet. Time is moving in a strange pacing and I just don't know what to think. I'm trying to get used to this silence, especially since it's so far into this relationship. Silence does not equal bad things. . . I think.

My boyfriend's birthday is today.

This is what I intend to say in his card:

Happy 40th Birthday! We've only been together for a short time and I know I will never fully understand the life you had before 40.
That aside, I would be honored to spend time with you in the next 40 years of your life. The time that I've spent with you has been a very happy time for me.
You are smart and I find you incredibly attractive, even aside from that I find your active personality incredibly amazing and I still am trying to figure it out.

I am still trying to figure out exactly what love is, and it's a word that people weigh a lot of mental energy into,but I know that what I have been feeling lately when I think about you is probably very close to what "loving" someone must feel like. I just don't know if I wanna give that feeling a finite definition right now, because what I feel for you can't be explained with words. Happy birthday, wolf.

xoxo
E.iguana

A Chilled Glass

Another Thursday done. The snow has begun to fall again. This time in a much harder and wet form than the previous time. Slush is forming and this snow is chilled cold, like the glass of the Stoli-Razz and Soda I am currently drinking.

I've decided that on March 1st, I resume looking for jobs. I took the time sorting paper and after about two months, I am pretty much through and at least curious to look for other jobs. I will continue sorting paper because I know it's regular and workable. As the months become warmer I will humor myself by applying to dresser jobs. I have nothing to lose, except my graces as a gentleman.

I've swallowed so much cynicism that it's make me so sour sometimes. It's all going pretty well right now, the sorting paper job I can stick with. I just know I'm better than what is being done. I'm not a fool, but after doing a job such as that for any length of time. You begin to feel like this is all you can do. So simple and mind numbing. Yet it's a Recession, which rhymes with Depression and the government thinks letters can hide the true facts at hand. I shouldn't be greedy, times are rough and this may be the best you can get for now.

I've been watching this show called Battlestar Galactica. It's funny how addictive it is. It's a sci-fi drama to a great extent. I'm absolutely in love. It's tragic and amazing.

Human Moment

Tonight I had a human moment. With a friend who I have known for years, but never sat next to and really talked to. He gave advice and told me about his family life. I understood him for who he was in that moment. It touched me and felt very good and honest. Two people sharing their lives.

Leaving the party was family like too. Kissing everyone goodbye on the cheek. It was sweet and touching. It made me feel warm. I also got a warm feeling when I made it home in record time. Only 8 minutes after midnight. I left the apartment early because I was feeling good in my soul. I wanted to quit while I was ahead.

With All the Dramatic it Deserves. . .

We were drunk. As sometimes is the case and it was Valentine's Day and possibly our 6 month anniversary. I'm not one to make drama about a day that is pointless and unnecessary. But as a couple I gave him a box of chocolates. In return we drank at the local bar and I saw him put his hand down some slut's pants.

We were drunk. I feel like a 1950s housewife making excuses up for my husband. He works so hard, so what if he likes a few cocktails after dinner? He deserves them. Well we know I am not a housewife and nor is this the 50s. There is more to this story that needs to be told.

The boy was a previous hookup and he was drunk [see there I go again]. I saw it from across the room and I simply shook my head at him. In his drunken stupor he defended his point. The scene quickly shifted to the 2000s and I was in a scene from Jersey Shore.

The night quickly took a nosedive as I became the aggressor and proclaimed the day was done. The people in our party disbanded and The Construction Worker passed out in my bed. At 9 PM.

I sat on the couch at 9:30 wondering. What are the memories I have from this night. I called a good friend and told him the situation. As girls do his advice was excellent, but I fitted it to meet my particular situation. The next day I would discuss this indiscretion and as I figured he had no recollection of the night.

This gives me an upper hand in the scene. If I were a vile person I could manipulate the situation as I see fit. "You did this. . ." and "I saw this . . ."As much as I am a vile person, I care about The Construction Worker more than anyone I can remember. I would never mix up the stories to fit my benefit. Also, I had a pretty good landing to begin with. I told him of his actions and words. How I was finally really beginning to believe that I can trust him and he goes and pulls a silly stunt like that.

He apologized, which was all he could do in the moment and I got what I came for. An apology. There was uncertainty in the air after our first fight. Six months in and this is the first and it really was not a fight. That's good odds. Regardless we all felt off. Granted there was no drinking going on. So perhaps the boring parts of the play are now. Or perhaps the most human moments were then.

He cuddled me and was held. I felt him holding me and thought about other occasions where drama erupts and how I react. The simple word is to "flee". I'd fled so many relationships, some people wonder if I ever really existed at all. Well fuckers, I do! This one though, I feel no need to flee. I want to work on these little issues and dwell on them. Knowing they are manageable, if not dramatic at times. We spoke softly and calmly. I hate yelling so I rarely break into it, but there could've been cause for it in later years when more falls apart. This is just a step right now. I told him what I wanted and in the future if your hands need to go down someones pants. Justifiably so they should be mine. . .

Moral.

This Is What. . .

This must be what love is.

Since Last I Had Written

I rechecked my last entry to realize how much has and has not happened. That job cannot be playing me. It's been over a week and I've heard nothing since they promised me the position was mine again. I am glad I invested no worry into it. No, none whatsoever.

Then the Construction Worker's stalker has returned. Yes. That very day of my good news we went to the local bar and who was sitting there. Oh the psychological thriller that began in my head was enough to baffle anyone. Someday I may write a play based on the night that went on.

The stalker moved closer down the bar until finally he became part of our group. I kissed the worker on the lips in front of the stalker. An act of drunken courage and lack of thought. The Construction Worker had a soliloquy about his misfortune in finding a stalker. "How does one realize the person they get involved with will stalk them." True, so true.

I agreed to do a Five-Borough Bike Tour with my Brother on May 6th. I need to find a better bike by then. Mission go!

Energies

I'm filled with positive thoughts and energies. Today while I was sorting my paper there was a rush of panic because the paper that we sort had run out. Someone told the story of how the last temp job he was on at this company that ran out. They just dismissed everyone and kept two of them. The worst of stories you can tell to a temp.

A general panic began in the room. Then people began to get calls from the temp agency offering them other jobs. It seemed strange, but then the people who weren't getting calls began to get more nervous. By lunch time tension was high and people were ready to kill each other.

I got a call from the job I applied to in October and apparently they are finally ready to hire me. There was a protocol that they had to follow. I begin to now see that this whole wait may have been planned. To cheat a system, it takes time.

Given to all the tension today. From just sorting papers (or lack thereof) I was relieved to hear that all that waiting had not been for naught. Until I am sitting behind a desk and getting a pay check, I will not believe anything I hear. My response went something like this. . .

Gay Assistant: Are you still interested in the position.
E.Iguana: Did you watch the state of the union address? Of course I would like it . . .

My Mother's Tears

I called to simply ask her to fax a letter for me. Conversations with my mother could be a two person play, and I've often thought about writing down my mother. My mother's simplicity and her undying love for me is a character study. My relationship with her always takes a reverse turn when she breaks into tears over such simple matters. Yet, that were never apparent to me while I lived at home.

The issue is bitchy and simple: My aunt made a comment about my sister's "Spider bite" piercings. . . on her 16th Birthday. She said, "I can't even look at you." Turned away and handed her an envelope with money. Majorly c*unty though and worthy of my mom's tears.

Now that I never partake in the drama of this household. I can listen and I encourage her to speak out. I get my sensitivity from her and I would probably begin crying in the same situation. I like to believe I have grown stronger and with a little tougher of a skin. I've seen both sides now.

The unfortunate part of all this is this was the aunt my mother felt she had a close relationship with. The aunt who comes down and takes me to Broadway shows and I go to dinner with her and her friend. I listen as they take at each other about their children. What their kids do. Never really having a conversation, but topping the next statement. I sit and drink wine and enjoy the free meal. Sometimes I throw out random words, but mostly I eat the bread and sip the wine.

So my mother feels betrayed. I

Crock Pot

I didn't go into work today because I wasn't feeling well when I awoke. Last night we went bowling and The Construction Worker revealed that he was in some major leagues when he was in high school. He bowled a 222 to my 99. He could do that spin on the ball and make himself get strikes. I believe that he's some kind of wizard.

I awoke this morning, later in the day because I felt so groggy at 6 AM. I began cooking a pork shoulder, because I intend to make Pulled Pork Sandwiches. I also made some brownies, as well as homemade coleslaw. The onion rings will go into the oven and I'll ring the bell when the food is ready. You know it takes a while to make that pork shoulder tender.

I will return to work tomorrow, because one must work. One must. The day of cooking was a domestic purge and incredibly fun. I like making food, but in a Martha Stewart kind of way. Not in a job sense. I just feel like I need to keep house.

The kitten has his adulthood and begun to hump things. I relate the feelings I have with Bumble, as a mother must feel with a child. I want to love him, but he terrifies me. Now he's a man, only six months after I've taken him in.

The Honeymoon is Ending

Last night, while drinking The Construction Worker decided it would be a good time to go through some issues that have been bothering him. I appreciate honesty, I've read enough Albee to know the best truth is an inebriated confession.

The first issue was about my picture on some websites. How I revealed unladylike truths and some people in his social circle were beginning to question him. He's a private man and I respect that. I suddenly felt very nervous, because I knew of one site and the Construction Worker insisted it was a different website. I suddenly through it could be this very venue in which I type. Would I have to get rid of this? No one reads this anyway.

Then I began to wonder what kind of gay Terrance McNally play I was in. Someone confessing my secrets to the Worker because they want him to know he is with a once dangerous Lolita type. I told him I would check my past and erase these old relics. He told me not to worry about it more than that very conversation.

Then he brought up my lack of etiquette. This one thing I found amusing. I use my fork and knife incorrectly. I know this and it has never entered my mind that some people would find it offensive. According the Construction Worker, in some social circles. The fact that I switch the fork to my other hand when I cut my meat. It's an insult?

What a wicked creature am I? To have been throwing out threats to everyone around me when I eat in public. I agreed to be trained in the way of proper fork holding. This is what relationships are all about, learning from your partner.

Then came the final issue. At this point, my hide was rough from all the issues at hand [and the sex] and listened as to why I mentioned I liked him more after therapy. I explained my future and the uncertainty of it all. In June, I will be changing apartments and losing benefits. Things will be unstable. I feel weird trusting in someone when I feel like a wreck.

At therapy I simply just spoke of Andrew and what was going on with thoughts. I take the future in stride, taking things as they come. Yet, I still worry. It's my upbringing. He told me that it will all be okay and I should not worry. This is partnership and being with someone. This is trusting.

By Any Other Name Would Still be a Rose

This is a picture of my boyfriend's stalker. He sent it to me one day along with a four page letter this kid wrote for him. I don't need to worry because I've been told he joined the army. Though his letter (which was written in October) says he may not continue with it.

Now, for those of you who know my background. This is the second guy I've dated who has a stalker. It's left me with a few thoughts and queries that I just want to get out in the open. Be there an answer to them or not.

I wonder how someone could feel so obsessed with someone to the point of carving their names into a tree outside of the apartment that the Construction Worker was building. Or that he got one phone call when he joined the army and he called The Construction Worker. Is there some sort of dreamworld they live in? I was told that the boy was only a hookup, but then it grew into this deranged gifts and him getting followed into bars.

I sometimes wonder what would happen if this boy doesn't go into the army and just suddenly appears one day. Would he try to kill me? Or ruin my life. The only difference between the first stalker and the second is the man attached. The Construction worker is coming from a different place and this said stalker has yet to appear.

When he does, I hope it ends up like this. . .

Gather Together in My Name

Oh the temping life. I completed my first half week of temping at the law firm that handles in asbestos lawsuits. People in the 50s and 60s who are trying to get money from their health issues. There are other lawsuits that this firm handles that are other health issues.

I sort papers. That much is simple. I sort all types of papers, that are scanned so the lawyers can look at them in their offices and then make money in court. I get $12.50 an hour, and in these times, I have to remind myself how grateful I am to be working. Sorting papers and resorting them. I was told the job would last two months, but other temps tell me they've been there for a year. "It will extend." They say.

I get my evenings free and a 15 minute smoking break at 10 AM. It is a change in the sleeping schedule, but it is not to difficult to wake up at 6 AM. I just need to watch my nights and be in bed at a decent hour.

The people I work with are normal. I went to happy hour with them tonight. There is a sassy girl who drinks to get through the day. On breaks they discuss how little they are being paid and how the men in charge get paid $20.00 an hour to sit there.

The Brazilian man who trained me. We shared a desk for three days, literally. He sat next to me, "training" me on how to sort papers by recognizing documents. On the second day he kept asking me, "You must ask me questions." I responded with, "Surely you're flirting." I come to find out at happy hour from the fabulous black woman, "He's got a live at home boyfriend, but he's on the down low." I fell to the floor in laughter. The sassy girl said he trained with her for 15 minutes. I shared a desk with this Brazilian hunk for three days. He's a lawyer, but only in Brazil. I think that's exotic.

My first clue to his homosexuality was when we were on our way to lunch. I was having a salad, but the rest were headed to McDonalds. One of the girls spat out, "He just sits and watches Lady Gaga music videos all day." I froze and realized the mystery had been solved.

I Told You It Was Epic

I have been reading a lot of Maya Angelou lately. Her life speaks to me. The trials and her insights just ring true on a human level. Being a dancer in a strip joint, just by being true to herself. She does these jobs she hates, she marries and divorces. Why does she wed, "Because he asked me." So decided in her ways, she reflects later when the time is right.

I begin another temping job tomorrow. There is the rumor it will be for "a couple of months." That comes as a breath of air. The alleged hours are 8 to 4 pm, which is even better. Tomorrow when I go, all this could change on a dime. Nothing is certain, but I will stay true and work.

The Construction Worker and I have been dating for about 5 months now. It's a steady companionship, with delightful sex, that has yet to grow boring. At least from my perspective. He's a Pieces, which means he will stray. I mentally prepare myself for it, but never fully acknowledging it. Like a guest at a party. I could talk to any number of personalities, but I'll avoid that specific one.

He had an invite to a wedding, but I'm not yet at the "plus one" status. I'll stay home and get my kitten spayed instead. Little Bumble Beeson is getting his balls clipped. I think he's otherwise engaged. Retarded. Suddenly I'm Bette Midler as Jacqueline Susan in that movie about her life. I'll write a novel while I take care of my slow kitten. Making him a eunuch.

The New Year

The New Year has passed and I am trying to help people whom I barely know out. It's a chance I am trying to give. The new year weekend has passed slowly and I await tomorrow when I call my temp agency. For some mundane assignment that will take up 10 to 12 hours of my day.

With the passing of that last job opportunity and the new decade, I have felt grateful to just do what I am doing. The dullest work an American can imagine. That way I'm some unsung Americana Hero. I'm doing what it takes to get by. Years can pass so quickly when you're doing nothing. Then next thing you know you've been doing nothing for years but living contently.

In other news Bumble is going to get his balls cut off soon. He's being a little to feisty for his own good. I look at him and often wonder how I ever decided I wanted to control something else other than my life. I can't throw this thing out when I get over it. Yet, I know have a companion who keeps me home.

The New Year's Eve was pleasant and spent with the whom I am currently giving my heart to. We went to lunch at a McDonald's (but not after searching for a decent place to be open). Then went to wander around the entire Brooklyn Museum.

There was a brief resting period where we went to dinner that had endless champagne. 2010 started there. Then we went to a party and I watched people flit about. Followed to another party where I flitted about. Then lastly to a warehouse affair, which was intense and crazy. The fact that it was only 20 blocks away from my apartment was even more astounding.