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.

Scratched Nose

I once had a dream. I think you can call it my childhood. It involved hallways and simplicity and slower days. I have been trying to keep the glass half full. I feel like people are checking up on me and that makes me nervous.

There was a time when I could picture myself doing any job. I would do any job, but it doesn't even seem possible to get any job these days. I was raised to believe that I could do anything, but I'm entering a Depression. My generation is entering a Depression, but we're not ready to give into it, just yet.

The other day, when I wasn't looking for jobs because I applied to them all. I didn't want to leave the house yet, for fear that my temp agency would call me while I was shower in the gym or running on the treadmill. I decided I would take a short nap on the couch. It does not feel so lazy if I do it outside of my room and on the couch.

I closed my eyes and 45 minutes went by. My naps usually only last less than an hour, for that is about the time the furnace that lives in my body fully warms up and I burst into flame. Around minute 40 of that nap I was attacked by the Kitten. He saw my nose peaking out of the nap [the way I sleep on my stomach and fold my arms under my head. It allows me nose to peak out]. He saw that nose and dove for it. I now have a nice little scratch on my nose. He is a curious kitten, very curious indeed.

I need to take him to get his shots today, but the worry lies in the fact we're not supposed to have a kitten. It doesn't necessarily matter, because everyone else who lives in our building has a dog or cat. I just don't wish to get another set of bad news. I am going to disguise the carrier, as a giant Halloween basket I've made for my neighbors! They will never catch on. Never!

There is A Sadness. . .

There's been a lot going on these days, but strangely enough nothing has been going on. There is the kitten, Bumble. He's funny and a nice companion. I'm trying to get him to stop nipping me when I try and pet him.

I have been applying to jobs. This legacy that I am leaving is building up. A futon and a kitten. Oh and the Construction Worker. Trying to build trust in me, which is comforting enough.

The trial is happening and happening. I'm not allowed to discuss it, so I'll keep all the details until this ends.

The Normalcy . . .

What did my parents teach me about life? What did I ever learn about becoming an adult from them? It perplexes me as to why I thought there were some lesson plans they taught me, like in school. About dating, work and love. All that crap. The question of the hour is "What does Iguana want?"

He wants a kitten. He got one and now it's like that movie with Diane Keaton gets a baby. She uses the baby to her advantage and makes a fortune off of baby food. I wish to use the kitten to my advantage and teach it to dance with me. Then tragedy will strike. Right now he's sitting next to me curled up and loving the heat coming off my thigh.

I never figured myself a cat person. I never figured myself much of an "any kind" of person. As my therapist tells me, "Who told you there were rules to life?" My parents. My suburban life.

So I like cats now. If he'll always be like this and not scared of me, then I gladly take on the responsibility.

Iguana also wants a boyfriend. The Construction Worker has been making himself more known. Which is not unwanted. He comes and spends the night and tells me there's no need for sex every night. I stop and pause at this thought.

It's an old thought to me. I remember a time when I could happily live with this idea, but I have rubbed away those thoughts and instilled a nervous sexuality.

Futon Paradise

I purchased a wonderful futon from Ikea the other day. The old one seemed to be cursed and would not come apart no matter how much I tried to dismantle it! Then Elizabeth came home and waved her hand and it fell to pieces.

I'm a little pissed off because I was supposed to be selling Ralph Lauren clothing for the US Open this week, but it seems I am not needed. I haven't minded the week off and I've been incredibly active in doing things. I just can't call my temp agency and say, "The work I was assigned isn't being given to me, can I have more work." In one more week this will be through and things shall return to normal. They said next week will be busier and I will be ready!

I may be getting a kitten soon. This is astounding and thrilling news. The Wounded Soldier's cats had five little kittens and he is offering them out. I have 4 weeks to decide this, but I think it will happen. I'm nervous, but I think it could be an amazing adventure. . .

So I have been very silent for weeks because I have been dating. A lot. I don't know how it happens, but I'll go through these periods where men want me from left and right. Then nothing for weeks. I know that may sound like bragging, but in this new era where I am not being a Manhunt whore, a date is appreciated. Even 4 dates at once.

Though there have been multiple men. There are two that have caught my attention. Both similar and vastly different in their mannerisms. There is the Georgia Peach and the Construction Worker. The things they have in common is that they are both from masculine backgrounds. I love my masculine gay men, as a friend says, "Straight acting is still acting. . ."

It's funny because between the two of them there is a tie for who I would rather spend more time with. If I had it my way (and perhaps I will get my way) I would keep both. The Georgia Peach is a beautiful southern boy. He has no baggage this time, there is no small child in sight and he has a good job. He loves weed and doesn't do hard drugs. He's only been out for a couple of years, before that he was "fucking girls". Apparently not everyone comes out at 15, well for those of us who do. We laugh at the idea of that. Fucking vagina . . .heh.

He's been kind and cuddly and then quiet and distance. It's too soon to really decide anything, but he's an Aries, which I've been told is dangerous to caring people like me. I see it though.

The Construction Worker is older [39] but is beautiful too. He owns his own construction company that is green. He has a large SUV and comes from a half-Italian/half-Lebanese family. I will never be invited to a family dinner. He's quiet, but I enjoy the silence. The same goes for the Peach. There's no incessant talking. I can talk incessantly with my friends. He too came out later in life and no doubt fucked bitches before he was officially a homo. Unlike the Peach though he seems to have been around with more men. He was born and raised in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn. I find that hot.

Honestly, I find the idea of gay men who still wear baggy jeans hot. They both wear unfitted jeans.

The Peach and I have slept together. It happened suddenly and without warning. It's hot and quick. Dirty and fun. Then we cuddle while we sleep. In the morning he promptly goes to work and kicks me out like a trick. I ride my bike home and wonder if he'll ever call me until to do something.

The Construction Worker and I have not slept together yet. Even though I long too. We've hung out more though. Seen movies, drank until we were funnily drunk, seen movies. Then he drives me home in his large SUV and we make out in his car. I cannot tell if he's waiting for me to invite him up. He tells me there is no pressure. I also have the slight doubt that the moment I sleep with him I may never see him again.

Time will tell with all of these things. . .

There, I have got you caught up with most everything that's important these days. Now we sit and wait. . .