It's a true Vancouver day, complete with all the water sounds of a typical rain forest day: the slooshing and sloshing, the hiss and drip that sends chills down one's back if you let it. It's definitely the type of day brings out the isolation and loneliness. I have to get outside where the light is brighter, where the cool wet air is more inviting than it sounds.
I shuffled up the sidewalk to Shoppers Drug Mart to buy stamps and birthday cards for my brother and sister. "Water is Life" is the mantra I repeat over and over. It's not raining that hard, not enough to get me wet. I didn't even bother with an umbrella; just a cap and a waterproof rain shell. It's mild too, almost soothing, but I am restless.
Back home I try to keep busy, keep distracted. I don't want the loneliness to crystallize into depression. I invited Dennis to dinner last night but he didn't bother to respond, before or after. I wrote to Robert Golling to give him an update three days ago. He's the German couch surfer who Yves will host during the Olympics, which start in only 13 days. He hasn't responded. Rich and Luis were over last night for dinner and two games of Settlers of Catan. I'm not sure why I feel so lonely.
There is a lot of work to do at home today. I want to finish the second tulip window for Germen, do laundry and vacuum the place. I also want to see a couple plays in the coming week but I don't want to go alone. Not sure if I will if I can't find someone. The plays I want to see include "Beyond Eden" by Robert LePage, a play about William Duff and Bill Reid's trip to Haida Gwaii in the 50s to bring back totem poles to UBC, and Joni Mitchell dance theatre at the QE Theatre. There is also "Nevermore", the Edgar Allen Poe bio playing at the Granville Island Stage.
As long as I don't sit still I should be fine.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Spirit of the Olympics
January draws to a close and the war drums of the international 2010 Winter Olympics draw closer. Already the downtown office buildings and street corners are sprouting new banners and posters egging passersby to cheer for the Canadian team. Winning is the only objective and the media and local sporting officials claim Canada could walk away with the highest medal count. Isn't that what being a good host is all about?
VANOC, the blood-thirsty, greed-based vampire of an organization that oversees the Olympics is crowing the success of its on-line ticket scalping site, that has spread its money-grubbing lust to the masses. The cheapest tickets of a single event now go for $600 and the top end price for a ticket for the opening ceremonies would suffice for a down payment on a small condo. Nine family members of one of the American bob sledding team, which is expected to win gold, just learned that the house they rented in Whistler for $8000 to watch the event was actually a scam. For them the Games are ruined but the scammer is definitely feeling the true spirit of the games.
An invading army of several thousands of soldiers, police and security guards, more than the number of troops we have employed in Afghanistan, will comprise about 10% of the population around the sports and tourist venues. They are there to ensure that no terrorists, like the anti-Olympic movement that has waged a futile fight against the squandering of so many hundreds of millions of tax payers dollars, don't disrupt the "festivities". The cost for the policing will be approximately one billion dollars.
The events with their sky-high prices are not for local Vancouverites. About half the tickets are for media and corporate sponsors and rest are for the rich (they are the same). We won't likely be able to welcome either the tourists or athletes as there will be enough barriers between them and us. When it is all over, there will be a four lane highway from Vancouver to Whistler, a subway to the airport and a few over-sized and under-used sports facilities left behind and, of course, a massive debt that will take at least a quarter of a century to pay off, thereby preventing other improvements that would make this a more liveable city.
I tried not to be a cynic this time, tried not to see or smell the sewage treatment plant-sized ball of shit flying out of the sky and rolling over us. I wanted to welcome the world and keep my happy face. Undoubtedly, there will be lots of real human drama, both joy and sorrow and a coming together of the worlds best young athletes that would leave any porn producer weeping with envy. But the most wondrous and spiritual sites also attract and counteractive and equal degree of neutralizing cess and sleaze, like the sea of tourists, scam artists, thieves and hustlers who hang around sites like the pyramids and the Taj Mahal, the tacky, cheesy wax museums, freak shows and heart-shaped vibrating beds at Niagara Falls, or the sea of yuppie tourist boutiques that have sprung up in Woodstock, New York.
An acquaintance of mine who is a Native/gay/Catholic activist in New York, was pleased to learn that the mascots chosen for these Games would be three characters from Native West Coast mythology: "Quatchi", "Miga" and "Sumi", that is until I sent him the pathetic cartoon images they would be portrayed as. Their simplified names and bleached and boiled personalities bear no resemblance to the myths they are supposed to represent..jpg)
Quatchi (short for Sasquatch) "comes from the mysterious forests of Canada and dreams of being a hockey goalie", according the official Olympic website. The forests are certainly mysterious to the promoters who have never been there, and Quatchi has the personality of an unsalted soda biscuit. He looks like Chewbaka with a happy face. He is nothing like the shy, lumbering Bigfoot, terror of the forests who kidnapped young children and took them back to his cave to bugger them--a Catholic priest of sorts.
.jpg)
Miga, from Kwakiutl mythology, is a sea bear; half orca and half Kermode bear. Far from the sea Spirit who devours unwanted visitors, he (it) looks more like a skunk without a tail, with a white-faced, balloon-sized black head, white panda ears and a small French moustache. There's nothing about him that looks like either a bear or a killer whale. .jpg)
Sumi, a powerful animal Spirit with the legs of a black bear and wings of a Thunderbird, assumes the look of a gardener in a green smock wearing "a hat of an orca". Even in Native mythology whales don't wear hats, but even Disney would not design something this stupid. The hat looks like an overturned green salad bowl with points on top, and his green Thunderbird wings look like a watermelon slice with the colours reversed. He shares the same benign, mindless smile as the other two, proof of his mushroom-like personality and his inability to express or form thought.
They represent the consumers that do as the organizers would have them do. In that way, they are true mascots of these Games.
VANOC, the blood-thirsty, greed-based vampire of an organization that oversees the Olympics is crowing the success of its on-line ticket scalping site, that has spread its money-grubbing lust to the masses. The cheapest tickets of a single event now go for $600 and the top end price for a ticket for the opening ceremonies would suffice for a down payment on a small condo. Nine family members of one of the American bob sledding team, which is expected to win gold, just learned that the house they rented in Whistler for $8000 to watch the event was actually a scam. For them the Games are ruined but the scammer is definitely feeling the true spirit of the games.
An invading army of several thousands of soldiers, police and security guards, more than the number of troops we have employed in Afghanistan, will comprise about 10% of the population around the sports and tourist venues. They are there to ensure that no terrorists, like the anti-Olympic movement that has waged a futile fight against the squandering of so many hundreds of millions of tax payers dollars, don't disrupt the "festivities". The cost for the policing will be approximately one billion dollars.
The events with their sky-high prices are not for local Vancouverites. About half the tickets are for media and corporate sponsors and rest are for the rich (they are the same). We won't likely be able to welcome either the tourists or athletes as there will be enough barriers between them and us. When it is all over, there will be a four lane highway from Vancouver to Whistler, a subway to the airport and a few over-sized and under-used sports facilities left behind and, of course, a massive debt that will take at least a quarter of a century to pay off, thereby preventing other improvements that would make this a more liveable city.
I tried not to be a cynic this time, tried not to see or smell the sewage treatment plant-sized ball of shit flying out of the sky and rolling over us. I wanted to welcome the world and keep my happy face. Undoubtedly, there will be lots of real human drama, both joy and sorrow and a coming together of the worlds best young athletes that would leave any porn producer weeping with envy. But the most wondrous and spiritual sites also attract and counteractive and equal degree of neutralizing cess and sleaze, like the sea of tourists, scam artists, thieves and hustlers who hang around sites like the pyramids and the Taj Mahal, the tacky, cheesy wax museums, freak shows and heart-shaped vibrating beds at Niagara Falls, or the sea of yuppie tourist boutiques that have sprung up in Woodstock, New York.
An acquaintance of mine who is a Native/gay/Catholic activist in New York, was pleased to learn that the mascots chosen for these Games would be three characters from Native West Coast mythology: "Quatchi", "Miga" and "Sumi", that is until I sent him the pathetic cartoon images they would be portrayed as. Their simplified names and bleached and boiled personalities bear no resemblance to the myths they are supposed to represent.
.jpg)
Quatchi (short for Sasquatch) "comes from the mysterious forests of Canada and dreams of being a hockey goalie", according the official Olympic website. The forests are certainly mysterious to the promoters who have never been there, and Quatchi has the personality of an unsalted soda biscuit. He looks like Chewbaka with a happy face. He is nothing like the shy, lumbering Bigfoot, terror of the forests who kidnapped young children and took them back to his cave to bugger them--a Catholic priest of sorts.
.jpg)
Miga, from Kwakiutl mythology, is a sea bear; half orca and half Kermode bear. Far from the sea Spirit who devours unwanted visitors, he (it) looks more like a skunk without a tail, with a white-faced, balloon-sized black head, white panda ears and a small French moustache. There's nothing about him that looks like either a bear or a killer whale. .jpg)
Sumi, a powerful animal Spirit with the legs of a black bear and wings of a Thunderbird, assumes the look of a gardener in a green smock wearing "a hat of an orca". Even in Native mythology whales don't wear hats, but even Disney would not design something this stupid. The hat looks like an overturned green salad bowl with points on top, and his green Thunderbird wings look like a watermelon slice with the colours reversed. He shares the same benign, mindless smile as the other two, proof of his mushroom-like personality and his inability to express or form thought.
They represent the consumers that do as the organizers would have them do. In that way, they are true mascots of these Games.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Winter
Dear T---,
Although I have never had a long term relationship like yours, and not a short-term one in more than a decade either, I do know what it must feel like to go through the misery you are tormented by. I do know the loss and the immense loneliness that comes with it.
As I see it, you are sensing the obvious, that the relationship you have known and have invested so much in is gone forever. It cannot be repaired and returned to the way it once was. It has evolved and you are not prepared to evolve with it, not if that means loss of intimacy and B--- not nurturing you. But you have lost that side of the relationship already and B--- does not have the strength or faith to love even himself. He seems very frightened to lose you because he believes he does not have the strength to make it on his own. He is probably saddened that he cannot love you back as he once could.
Like B---, I too am on that slippery slope towards Death. Even an improvement in my strength will be temporary as the aging process takes over. If I do stage a recovery it might last for a few years, but it will be no more than a reprieve. Only Death is certain. My mortality terrifies me.
My circumstances with my muscular dystrophy seem cruel and severe to most of my friends, and to me too, but in one way life has been extremely kind to me: it has given me two decades to get used to the idea of Death, and may even give me two or three more.
When I was a young teenager, perhaps about 13 or so, I wondered a lot about how I would die. Most people said they hoped to die quickly but I knew even then that I would need a lot of time to grow accustomed to the idea. I knew too that contemplation of Death is one of the greatest opportunities in life to grow spiritually. Life has answered my prayers and given me this wonderful (but painful) opportunity to maximize my spiritual growth and I do not intend to waste it.
B--- is extremely lucky to have you to support him as the transition approaches. You will be there for him in the time of his greatest need. You are not like my partner who fled to the hills as soon as he heard of my diagnosis of muscular dystrophy, but perhaps that is because I am stronger than B--- and can manage the voyage on my own. I have often felt like a scared child, wishing and begging for someone to comfort me as the waters grown rougher, but even in this state I know that no one else can do much to help me. I must find my own courage and learn on my own to trust the process. There is simply no other option.
In return for your support, B--- will teach you how to die, what it means to decay and lose all that you have loved about life. This may be the only way he can "be there" for you when you start to die, by showing you the way, even if he cannot do it with dignity in the end. To care for him and give him support will strengthen you for when your time comes.
This is not about whether or not he enjoys the leather scene or him not caring about you enough. You need to let go of feeling rejected and deserted and take care of your own physical and emotional needs elsewhere. You will need your strength as his health grows worse. As the English say, you have not seen the forest for all the trees in the way. It is a bigger situation than how you have described it. It will help you greatly to see the bigger picture.
I am not sure if you were asking my advice and, if so, if you are prepared to hear what I am saying, but it will be a mistake to leave him now. You would never forgive yourself. But please take my advice and look for nurturing elsewhere while you nurture him. For your own good as well as his.
all my love, Ken
Although I have never had a long term relationship like yours, and not a short-term one in more than a decade either, I do know what it must feel like to go through the misery you are tormented by. I do know the loss and the immense loneliness that comes with it.
As I see it, you are sensing the obvious, that the relationship you have known and have invested so much in is gone forever. It cannot be repaired and returned to the way it once was. It has evolved and you are not prepared to evolve with it, not if that means loss of intimacy and B--- not nurturing you. But you have lost that side of the relationship already and B--- does not have the strength or faith to love even himself. He seems very frightened to lose you because he believes he does not have the strength to make it on his own. He is probably saddened that he cannot love you back as he once could.
Like B---, I too am on that slippery slope towards Death. Even an improvement in my strength will be temporary as the aging process takes over. If I do stage a recovery it might last for a few years, but it will be no more than a reprieve. Only Death is certain. My mortality terrifies me.
My circumstances with my muscular dystrophy seem cruel and severe to most of my friends, and to me too, but in one way life has been extremely kind to me: it has given me two decades to get used to the idea of Death, and may even give me two or three more.
When I was a young teenager, perhaps about 13 or so, I wondered a lot about how I would die. Most people said they hoped to die quickly but I knew even then that I would need a lot of time to grow accustomed to the idea. I knew too that contemplation of Death is one of the greatest opportunities in life to grow spiritually. Life has answered my prayers and given me this wonderful (but painful) opportunity to maximize my spiritual growth and I do not intend to waste it.
B--- is extremely lucky to have you to support him as the transition approaches. You will be there for him in the time of his greatest need. You are not like my partner who fled to the hills as soon as he heard of my diagnosis of muscular dystrophy, but perhaps that is because I am stronger than B--- and can manage the voyage on my own. I have often felt like a scared child, wishing and begging for someone to comfort me as the waters grown rougher, but even in this state I know that no one else can do much to help me. I must find my own courage and learn on my own to trust the process. There is simply no other option.
In return for your support, B--- will teach you how to die, what it means to decay and lose all that you have loved about life. This may be the only way he can "be there" for you when you start to die, by showing you the way, even if he cannot do it with dignity in the end. To care for him and give him support will strengthen you for when your time comes.
This is not about whether or not he enjoys the leather scene or him not caring about you enough. You need to let go of feeling rejected and deserted and take care of your own physical and emotional needs elsewhere. You will need your strength as his health grows worse. As the English say, you have not seen the forest for all the trees in the way. It is a bigger situation than how you have described it. It will help you greatly to see the bigger picture.
I am not sure if you were asking my advice and, if so, if you are prepared to hear what I am saying, but it will be a mistake to leave him now. You would never forgive yourself. But please take my advice and look for nurturing elsewhere while you nurture him. For your own good as well as his.
all my love, Ken
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Kicking the coffee habit
I love coffee, especially the kick it gives me in the morning, but after hearing from my naturopath that higher than normal acidity in my body is part of the cause of my dystrophy and general weakness, I decided on my own to make the change. The first day is always the worst.
So far so good, but I was dragging my ass all day. I didn't get nearly as much done on my window as I hoped I would. I have been nursing a mild headache and befuddled thinking on the second half of the day too. But I am doing it! :o)
There was a protest today against Harper for proroguing Parliament to avoid criticism. I probably would not have attended even if I was feeling better, as I find it hard to stand for an hour in a crowd. It was chilly too, but given that we expect to make it right through January without so much as a frost this year I will not complain.
So far so good, but I was dragging my ass all day. I didn't get nearly as much done on my window as I hoped I would. I have been nursing a mild headache and befuddled thinking on the second half of the day too. But I am doing it! :o)
There was a protest today against Harper for proroguing Parliament to avoid criticism. I probably would not have attended even if I was feeling better, as I find it hard to stand for an hour in a crowd. It was chilly too, but given that we expect to make it right through January without so much as a frost this year I will not complain.
Fallin' Down
I've had a couple of falls in the past 10 days, one on the 13th when I was getting off a bus to get to work, the other in my pod at work just returning from getting a drink of water. They ended a period of just over 5 months without a fall.
The first fall happened when an impatient woman crowding up to the door wasn't giving me space to hold the bus's door frame as I was stepping down. I decided I could step around her without holding onto anything. Think positively, I said to myself, just before I lost my balance. I grabbed at a light standard as I fell, which softened the fall. I wasn't bruised or hurt in any way.
The second fall was two days ago after a night of fasting. My new naturopath, Larry Chan, asked that I fast for a saliva test, which meant no supplements for 24 hours, no food or water, including diabetes medicines (I use pills). I was so nervous about getting there and surviving the fast safely that I barely slept all night. The exhaustion probably played a bigger role than the fasting.
I made it to my appointment for testing, waited to see the naturopath after that, and got back to my workplace so I could take my medicines and get some food before I started work. But that wasn't good enough. I fell about an hour later, scuffing my foot on the carpet, which caused the fall as I have no knee muscles left. I fell hard on both knees, scraping and bruising them both, but not too seriously. They are mostly recovered already.
I slept about 12 hours yesterday and had another good sleep last night so I am caught up on sleep. The falls have lowered my fall average over the past 10 falls to 88 days from almost 99. The next couple falls will likely lower it much more as my two longest periods without a fall will no longer be part of my average.
I am disheartened but not as depressed about it as I would have been a couple years ago. Dr Chan has given me some hope for the future too, as he is fairly certain that a combination of testosterone and growth hormone treatments will have a noticeable impact on my strength. First, I need to meet with Dr Taylor, my GP, to have my hormone levels tested (Tuesday). I also need to take a kidney cleanse for two weeks and de-acidify and rehydrate my body, which I begin to do today. I am using chlorophyll in water three times per day and cutting out coffee from now on. The latter will be a challenge for the next few days.
The first fall happened when an impatient woman crowding up to the door wasn't giving me space to hold the bus's door frame as I was stepping down. I decided I could step around her without holding onto anything. Think positively, I said to myself, just before I lost my balance. I grabbed at a light standard as I fell, which softened the fall. I wasn't bruised or hurt in any way.
The second fall was two days ago after a night of fasting. My new naturopath, Larry Chan, asked that I fast for a saliva test, which meant no supplements for 24 hours, no food or water, including diabetes medicines (I use pills). I was so nervous about getting there and surviving the fast safely that I barely slept all night. The exhaustion probably played a bigger role than the fasting.
I made it to my appointment for testing, waited to see the naturopath after that, and got back to my workplace so I could take my medicines and get some food before I started work. But that wasn't good enough. I fell about an hour later, scuffing my foot on the carpet, which caused the fall as I have no knee muscles left. I fell hard on both knees, scraping and bruising them both, but not too seriously. They are mostly recovered already.
I slept about 12 hours yesterday and had another good sleep last night so I am caught up on sleep. The falls have lowered my fall average over the past 10 falls to 88 days from almost 99. The next couple falls will likely lower it much more as my two longest periods without a fall will no longer be part of my average.
I am disheartened but not as depressed about it as I would have been a couple years ago. Dr Chan has given me some hope for the future too, as he is fairly certain that a combination of testosterone and growth hormone treatments will have a noticeable impact on my strength. First, I need to meet with Dr Taylor, my GP, to have my hormone levels tested (Tuesday). I also need to take a kidney cleanse for two weeks and de-acidify and rehydrate my body, which I begin to do today. I am using chlorophyll in water three times per day and cutting out coffee from now on. The latter will be a challenge for the next few days.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Proroguing Parliament
Our evil federal government, led by Prime Minister Stephen Harper (the Conservative least likely to drag his knuckles, according to the Ottawa Citizen) has developed a nasty habit of proroguing Parliament, that is, recessing Parliament at the time it should normally be sitting. He did it last year to avoid being toppled by the three opposition parties whose funding he was trying to cut. It caused quite a stir when he did it then, just a few weeks after a national election. No one wanted the government to fall that quickly and be forced into another election that would change nothing.
This year Harper has prorogued it until March to avoid criticism about prisoners in Afghanistan being tortured while in Canadian care or being handed over to other authorities, such as the Americans or Karzai's puppet government, who they know will be torturing them. He claimed he needed time to consult business and citizens about the next phase of his economic recovery plan, as though he is incapable of consulting Canadians while Parliament is functioning.
It is quite apparent that Harper is misusing the right to prorogue Parliament, which was meant only for emergencies and for the national good, not just to avoid opposition questioning and to cling to power. His side-kick and Security Minister Stockwell Day, when serving in the Alberta government a decade ago, complained that the government should be allowed to suspend Parliament for half a year so his government could get more done. It seems Harper shares the belief that democracy is not the point of governing, but an encumbrance to be dodged whenever possible.
Our Governor General, Michaelle Jean, allowed both proroguings to occur. Last year I could see her reasoning, so soon after an election, but this year it was so obviously a misuse. I was feeling frustrated about this until I saw the results of a recent opinion poll. The support for the Conservative government has fallen dramatically. A month ago they had a 15 percentage point lead over the Liberals and now it is less than 2%. Hopefully the trend will continue.
This year Harper has prorogued it until March to avoid criticism about prisoners in Afghanistan being tortured while in Canadian care or being handed over to other authorities, such as the Americans or Karzai's puppet government, who they know will be torturing them. He claimed he needed time to consult business and citizens about the next phase of his economic recovery plan, as though he is incapable of consulting Canadians while Parliament is functioning.
It is quite apparent that Harper is misusing the right to prorogue Parliament, which was meant only for emergencies and for the national good, not just to avoid opposition questioning and to cling to power. His side-kick and Security Minister Stockwell Day, when serving in the Alberta government a decade ago, complained that the government should be allowed to suspend Parliament for half a year so his government could get more done. It seems Harper shares the belief that democracy is not the point of governing, but an encumbrance to be dodged whenever possible.
Our Governor General, Michaelle Jean, allowed both proroguings to occur. Last year I could see her reasoning, so soon after an election, but this year it was so obviously a misuse. I was feeling frustrated about this until I saw the results of a recent opinion poll. The support for the Conservative government has fallen dramatically. A month ago they had a 15 percentage point lead over the Liberals and now it is less than 2%. Hopefully the trend will continue.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
What is it that I can do for you?
He is not a close friend, just a younger guy I had met a few times before. In October we spent a weekend with other friends out of town. We cuddled for a few hours over those two days, nothing sexual or romantic, just gentle, respectful nurturing, but it was a real treat for me as I wasn't used to it.
When we returned to the city we made little effort to stay in touch. We had no expectations. I called him twice over, once right after the weekend and once a month later just to check in with him. He had started seeing someone and was excited about that. He told me he wanted to remain friends, that he would build a ramp at his front door to make it easier for me to climb the steps that had no railings. I said that seemed like too much trouble but he said it was important that he could welcome me into his home.
In December he called me after seeing a stained glass exhibit somewhere. He was excited by the art he saw and wanted me to teach him, but it was Christmas and I was quite busy. I put off returning his call. Before I knew it the new year had arrived. I felt a bit guilty about not calling earlier.
I called him on a Sunday evening after spending the afternoon working on window I am making. There was a fair bit ambient noise when he picked up. I asked if I had caught him at a bad time. He said no, that he was relaxing in a coffee shop. We talked for a minute, mostly me asking him how his life was going and him answering. Then he suddenly says, "I am wondering what it is that I can do for you?" with a touch of impatience in his voice.
I was caught off guard. "Uh, nothing really" I replied, then I reminded him of his call asking about stained glass lessons. His voice took on an apologetic tone and he even sounded interested for a few seconds, but then came the excuses as to why it would not be a good time to have lessons for the next couple months. Whenever, I replied.
But his words remained in my head: "What is it I can do for you?" like a business call, but not. He was really saying Let me get this call over with so I can get on with my life. He was telling me I am not his friend, that he doesn't enjoy talking to me.
"What is it that I can do for you?" Nothing.....REALLY!
When we returned to the city we made little effort to stay in touch. We had no expectations. I called him twice over, once right after the weekend and once a month later just to check in with him. He had started seeing someone and was excited about that. He told me he wanted to remain friends, that he would build a ramp at his front door to make it easier for me to climb the steps that had no railings. I said that seemed like too much trouble but he said it was important that he could welcome me into his home.
In December he called me after seeing a stained glass exhibit somewhere. He was excited by the art he saw and wanted me to teach him, but it was Christmas and I was quite busy. I put off returning his call. Before I knew it the new year had arrived. I felt a bit guilty about not calling earlier.
I called him on a Sunday evening after spending the afternoon working on window I am making. There was a fair bit ambient noise when he picked up. I asked if I had caught him at a bad time. He said no, that he was relaxing in a coffee shop. We talked for a minute, mostly me asking him how his life was going and him answering. Then he suddenly says, "I am wondering what it is that I can do for you?" with a touch of impatience in his voice.
I was caught off guard. "Uh, nothing really" I replied, then I reminded him of his call asking about stained glass lessons. His voice took on an apologetic tone and he even sounded interested for a few seconds, but then came the excuses as to why it would not be a good time to have lessons for the next couple months. Whenever, I replied.
But his words remained in my head: "What is it I can do for you?" like a business call, but not. He was really saying Let me get this call over with so I can get on with my life. He was telling me I am not his friend, that he doesn't enjoy talking to me.
"What is it that I can do for you?" Nothing.....REALLY!
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Winter Olympics
The 2010 Winter Olympics are just a month away. The city lies in wait, apprehensive about the impending invasion of athletes, media and other visitors. Vancouver is quite accustomed to large conventions. They rarely are noted in the media, but the Olympics is a test that no city can be perfectly prepared for. No one really knows how much chaos it will cause.
Last October a German fellow, Robert Golling, put a note on couchsurfing.com asking if anyone had space for a visitor. His partner, Misha, had a chance to qualify as a member of the German national ski team, and he decided to look for accommodation. The prices were astronomical but worse, there were no rooms available in Vancouver by that date.
I offered to share my bed with him as a last resort, my couch being occupied by Fred and Eric who had to be out of their rented apartment for the duration of the Games, a condition of their lease. In lieu of any other offer, he said yes. In December Micha won a World Cup and they are definitely coming to Vancouver. In the meantime I have secured accommodation for Robert with my friend Yves for the duration of the Games. Yves lives at the foot of the Cambie Bridge, a ten minute walk from the athletes' village on the SE corner of False Creek.
It's a much better situation for everyone involved, even Yves. I am relieved not to have to deal with the overcrowding. I also felt awkward sharing my bed with a stranger, especially such a handsome one. I am sure he is relieved too. But he is very excited about the coming visit and his excitement is infectious. Both Yves and I now feel we have a small role to play, which will compensate for the congestion and inconveniences caused by the security measures. We have reason no to hide indoors for the duration of the Games.
Robert will rent a car for part of his time here, but he cannot drive up to Whistler as there is no parking there. I am hoping for clear weather where we can play tour guide around the Vancouver environs. Misha is anxious to see as many events as he can, but perhaps he has access to cheap tickets as a competing athlete. An afternoon of skating, for example, originally cost $450 but, after initially condemning scalping, VANOC (Vancouver Olympic Committee) has set up an on-line scalping site for 10% of the proceeds and many of the tickets are going for more than $1,000 for an afternoon's entertainment. The Games are designed for the rich, disgustingly sautéed in sleazy, money-grubbing lust at every turn. It is unavoidable. All we can do at this point is to be good, generous hosts and find the fun and the beauty wherever we can.
Worse than all that though, is that the weather is so mild now that all the snow on the mountains is melting. Cypress Mountain, one of the Olympic facilities, has already closed for lack of snow and Whistler, the main facility, is not much better.
For the next week, the coldest day will be +8C and the coldest night +6C. It's looking pretty bleak--VANOC's worst nightmare. Gawd does have a sense of humour!!
More later.....
Last October a German fellow, Robert Golling, put a note on couchsurfing.com asking if anyone had space for a visitor. His partner, Misha, had a chance to qualify as a member of the German national ski team, and he decided to look for accommodation. The prices were astronomical but worse, there were no rooms available in Vancouver by that date.
I offered to share my bed with him as a last resort, my couch being occupied by Fred and Eric who had to be out of their rented apartment for the duration of the Games, a condition of their lease. In lieu of any other offer, he said yes. In December Micha won a World Cup and they are definitely coming to Vancouver. In the meantime I have secured accommodation for Robert with my friend Yves for the duration of the Games. Yves lives at the foot of the Cambie Bridge, a ten minute walk from the athletes' village on the SE corner of False Creek.
It's a much better situation for everyone involved, even Yves. I am relieved not to have to deal with the overcrowding. I also felt awkward sharing my bed with a stranger, especially such a handsome one. I am sure he is relieved too. But he is very excited about the coming visit and his excitement is infectious. Both Yves and I now feel we have a small role to play, which will compensate for the congestion and inconveniences caused by the security measures. We have reason no to hide indoors for the duration of the Games.
Robert will rent a car for part of his time here, but he cannot drive up to Whistler as there is no parking there. I am hoping for clear weather where we can play tour guide around the Vancouver environs. Misha is anxious to see as many events as he can, but perhaps he has access to cheap tickets as a competing athlete. An afternoon of skating, for example, originally cost $450 but, after initially condemning scalping, VANOC (Vancouver Olympic Committee) has set up an on-line scalping site for 10% of the proceeds and many of the tickets are going for more than $1,000 for an afternoon's entertainment. The Games are designed for the rich, disgustingly sautéed in sleazy, money-grubbing lust at every turn. It is unavoidable. All we can do at this point is to be good, generous hosts and find the fun and the beauty wherever we can.
Worse than all that though, is that the weather is so mild now that all the snow on the mountains is melting. Cypress Mountain, one of the Olympic facilities, has already closed for lack of snow and Whistler, the main facility, is not much better.
For the next week, the coldest day will be +8C and the coldest night +6C. It's looking pretty bleak--VANOC's worst nightmare. Gawd does have a sense of humour!!
More later.....
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Of Gimps and Golden Boys
I met Rosario at a PCAN party at Jose C's place at the end of November. I was impressed by his openness, playfulness and kindness, not to mention that he was handsome and had a lean, lithe body that would undoubtedly feel wonderful to hold. He held my hand as we danced, his eyes filled with compassion and acceptance when he looked at me. I was fascinated by him.
Last Wednesday he hosted Heart Circle at his home in Surrey. Dennis, another Golden Boy who fascinates me, drove me there as it would otherwise be an hour on transit each way. Rosario met us in the parking lot of his building and kept his arm around me as he helped me up the driveway to the entrance, first to give me strength and later, as the ground leveled out, just to stay close with me.
The Heart Circle was especially wonderful. There were 10 of us: Fierce Heart, Danzante, Frank, Edward, Stitch, Dennis, Phoenix (visiting from Amsterdam), Foxtail, Rosario and I. There were many powerful things shared - losses, life changes, fears, betrayals, discoveries, family issues, love interests - the things that make Heart Circles the most sacred of all Faerie activities. I sat between Dennis and Frank, both of whom invited touch and closeness. After the Circle was closed, we lingered the better part of an hour sharing insights on gay identity and other topics. By the end of the evening I felt blessed and loved.
As we were saying our goodbyes, I hugged Rosario and kissed him twice on the lips. We pressed our heads together and I rubbed my forehead against his head affectionately. He was open and receptive throughout and promised to get together with me sometime soon. I floated out on a cloud.
It has been a while since I have allowed myself to be so open to a romantic involvement, perhaps because it has been years since anyone has seemed remotely interested in me romantically. I was not sure Rosario felt any such attraction but his affection and receptivity led me on to think it was possible. I had shared in Circle that I needed affection and touch in my life and wanted to be open to more this year, and my new-found feelings or Rosario fit right into this.
I didn't want to call him again right away. I wanted to think it over and give him time to too. The following two nights I found it difficult to sleep as I fantasized about holding him and wallowing in his attentions. They weren't really sexual imaginings, more pre-sexual since just being held is the nurturing I need right now.
After the second night I woke with the conviction that my feelings for him were of the highest intention and truly wonderful. I felt I could convey them honestly, with an offer to spend a night together without sounding like a beggar or a thief. I lost some of that morning clarity after another grueling day on the phones, but it was Friday, Renan had just moved out and it seemed a perfect time to invite him to spend a night together.
At first I got his voice mail so I left a message. I got a response two hours later. he hadn't intended to call. He had accidentally bumped the response button on his cell while unloading his car and had no idea I had left him a message. He was still in his parking lot and said he would call me back when he got settled inside. He didn't call me back for two hours as he answered several other messages before returning mine.
I had lost some confidence in the waiting as my old doubts settled back into place. Still, I told him I would love to be a closer friend and said I would love sometime to spend a night together, having by then given up on the present evening. He told me he didn't feel any spark towards me, and then, to soften the blow, he gave the typical explanation that he wasn't in a sexual space at the time, yadda yadda. I did my best to listen and stay open as I felt my ego hemorrhaging under the surface of our conversation.
I told him I wasn't looking for sex either, that accessing my libido would be like prying off the dried on lid of an old paint can, but that holding and touching would be very nurturing for me. He shared that he had done that in platonic friendships in California before, but he was relating a distant memory, not a shared intention. He said he might be open to non-sexual cuddling at sometime in the future, a crumpled offering in place of something substantial, perhaps a way to back out of an awkward conversation.
Even though it felt like an apology, his honesty seems intact. It is logical that I'd be attracted to such a Golden Boy, watching his life open up in a new world (he moved from L.A. to Vancouver a year ago and very happy with his move) and hearing how he is doing the cycling, hiking and exploring that once gave me so much joy. I don't feel envy, but would like to be near him to support and add to that joy.
But Golden Boys and Gimps don't usually come together like that. I can't do the things with them that they would want a partner to share, not anymore. Rosario has not yet made any attempt to reach out to me as a friend and I doubt he ever will after this. It is the same with Dennis, another Golden Boy, who said at my Heart Circle in November he wants to be closer friends with me and who last month muttered "Sweet man" to me at the close of a phone conversation. He let me sit with my arm around him in Heart Circle and even returned the gesture for a short while. He hugs me and lets me kiss his neck, but he has never yet accepted my invitation to play a game of Settlers of Catan (he says he loves the game) or to go to dinner with him. Those offers have been outstanding for three months and he hasn't even initiated a phone conversation with me.
That is the way of Golden Boys. They like the flattery but pull away to keep their distance after their egos have been stroked, for fear that they will either have to lie to return the favour and then endure my unwanted attentions or that they will have to be blunt and hurtful. Inevitably they will avoid me completely if they sense that I continue to harbour any attraction towards them, which is why I will never tell Dennis I am attracted to him or ask him to hold me. That is also why I will not call either of them again unless they call me. My ego feels a little bruised but I will not indulge in self-pity. I am getting over the hurt quickly. I am used to rejection by now.
Last Wednesday he hosted Heart Circle at his home in Surrey. Dennis, another Golden Boy who fascinates me, drove me there as it would otherwise be an hour on transit each way. Rosario met us in the parking lot of his building and kept his arm around me as he helped me up the driveway to the entrance, first to give me strength and later, as the ground leveled out, just to stay close with me.
The Heart Circle was especially wonderful. There were 10 of us: Fierce Heart, Danzante, Frank, Edward, Stitch, Dennis, Phoenix (visiting from Amsterdam), Foxtail, Rosario and I. There were many powerful things shared - losses, life changes, fears, betrayals, discoveries, family issues, love interests - the things that make Heart Circles the most sacred of all Faerie activities. I sat between Dennis and Frank, both of whom invited touch and closeness. After the Circle was closed, we lingered the better part of an hour sharing insights on gay identity and other topics. By the end of the evening I felt blessed and loved.
As we were saying our goodbyes, I hugged Rosario and kissed him twice on the lips. We pressed our heads together and I rubbed my forehead against his head affectionately. He was open and receptive throughout and promised to get together with me sometime soon. I floated out on a cloud.
It has been a while since I have allowed myself to be so open to a romantic involvement, perhaps because it has been years since anyone has seemed remotely interested in me romantically. I was not sure Rosario felt any such attraction but his affection and receptivity led me on to think it was possible. I had shared in Circle that I needed affection and touch in my life and wanted to be open to more this year, and my new-found feelings or Rosario fit right into this.
I didn't want to call him again right away. I wanted to think it over and give him time to too. The following two nights I found it difficult to sleep as I fantasized about holding him and wallowing in his attentions. They weren't really sexual imaginings, more pre-sexual since just being held is the nurturing I need right now.
After the second night I woke with the conviction that my feelings for him were of the highest intention and truly wonderful. I felt I could convey them honestly, with an offer to spend a night together without sounding like a beggar or a thief. I lost some of that morning clarity after another grueling day on the phones, but it was Friday, Renan had just moved out and it seemed a perfect time to invite him to spend a night together.
At first I got his voice mail so I left a message. I got a response two hours later. he hadn't intended to call. He had accidentally bumped the response button on his cell while unloading his car and had no idea I had left him a message. He was still in his parking lot and said he would call me back when he got settled inside. He didn't call me back for two hours as he answered several other messages before returning mine.
I had lost some confidence in the waiting as my old doubts settled back into place. Still, I told him I would love to be a closer friend and said I would love sometime to spend a night together, having by then given up on the present evening. He told me he didn't feel any spark towards me, and then, to soften the blow, he gave the typical explanation that he wasn't in a sexual space at the time, yadda yadda. I did my best to listen and stay open as I felt my ego hemorrhaging under the surface of our conversation.
I told him I wasn't looking for sex either, that accessing my libido would be like prying off the dried on lid of an old paint can, but that holding and touching would be very nurturing for me. He shared that he had done that in platonic friendships in California before, but he was relating a distant memory, not a shared intention. He said he might be open to non-sexual cuddling at sometime in the future, a crumpled offering in place of something substantial, perhaps a way to back out of an awkward conversation.
Even though it felt like an apology, his honesty seems intact. It is logical that I'd be attracted to such a Golden Boy, watching his life open up in a new world (he moved from L.A. to Vancouver a year ago and very happy with his move) and hearing how he is doing the cycling, hiking and exploring that once gave me so much joy. I don't feel envy, but would like to be near him to support and add to that joy.
But Golden Boys and Gimps don't usually come together like that. I can't do the things with them that they would want a partner to share, not anymore. Rosario has not yet made any attempt to reach out to me as a friend and I doubt he ever will after this. It is the same with Dennis, another Golden Boy, who said at my Heart Circle in November he wants to be closer friends with me and who last month muttered "Sweet man" to me at the close of a phone conversation. He let me sit with my arm around him in Heart Circle and even returned the gesture for a short while. He hugs me and lets me kiss his neck, but he has never yet accepted my invitation to play a game of Settlers of Catan (he says he loves the game) or to go to dinner with him. Those offers have been outstanding for three months and he hasn't even initiated a phone conversation with me.
That is the way of Golden Boys. They like the flattery but pull away to keep their distance after their egos have been stroked, for fear that they will either have to lie to return the favour and then endure my unwanted attentions or that they will have to be blunt and hurtful. Inevitably they will avoid me completely if they sense that I continue to harbour any attraction towards them, which is why I will never tell Dennis I am attracted to him or ask him to hold me. That is also why I will not call either of them again unless they call me. My ego feels a little bruised but I will not indulge in self-pity. I am getting over the hurt quickly. I am used to rejection by now.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Avatar
Last night I made an attempt to see the hot new high-budget film by James Cameron, “Avatar”. When I first heard about it, it’s cheesy title, that trivializes a deeply meaningful spiritual concept, and it’s emphasis on 3-D and special effects turned me quite off. I assumed it is a movie for kids, albeit over-aged kids for the most part. But then I kept hearing positive reviews from others who were “surprised” at how good it was so I decided to give it another chance.
Last night the clouds parted, temporarily, but long enough walk to the cinema without fearing I’d have to sit for three hours while I slowly dried off. The Scotiabank Theatres are housed in a huge, new, vacuous mixed use building filled all cold chrome, glass and technology, designed to handle stampedes of mainstream movie goers.
I have lined-up before for half an hour, until my legs were begging for me to sit down. Then I fought for one of only a handful of seats I can access in these new-styled theatres. They are always on the main aisle that accesses the aisles of up and down stairs that I cannot do. The seats I can access are popular for their great leg room so I often have to beg to get one of them away from some long-legged youth, or go to an usher and ask them to ask someone to relinquish their seat for me. These days I bring a cane both to aid me while lining up and negotiating my way through crowds of distracted youths and to emphasize the point that I am disabled.
For this effort, I get to listen to half an hour of blaring commercials that can almost drown out the sea of chatting teenagers before the movie begins. There is always a cold draught of air conditioning that sinks down from above the main aisle so I have learned to wear a sweater.
But I was spared these pleasures last night. After lining up behind kids with their dates clutching their skateboards (how does one go on a date with someone on a skateboard?) I found out both evening shows were already sold out more than an hour in advance. Maybe next month.
Last night the clouds parted, temporarily, but long enough walk to the cinema without fearing I’d have to sit for three hours while I slowly dried off. The Scotiabank Theatres are housed in a huge, new, vacuous mixed use building filled all cold chrome, glass and technology, designed to handle stampedes of mainstream movie goers.
I have lined-up before for half an hour, until my legs were begging for me to sit down. Then I fought for one of only a handful of seats I can access in these new-styled theatres. They are always on the main aisle that accesses the aisles of up and down stairs that I cannot do. The seats I can access are popular for their great leg room so I often have to beg to get one of them away from some long-legged youth, or go to an usher and ask them to ask someone to relinquish their seat for me. These days I bring a cane both to aid me while lining up and negotiating my way through crowds of distracted youths and to emphasize the point that I am disabled.
For this effort, I get to listen to half an hour of blaring commercials that can almost drown out the sea of chatting teenagers before the movie begins. There is always a cold draught of air conditioning that sinks down from above the main aisle so I have learned to wear a sweater.
But I was spared these pleasures last night. After lining up behind kids with their dates clutching their skateboards (how does one go on a date with someone on a skateboard?) I found out both evening shows were already sold out more than an hour in advance. Maybe next month.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Deface-book
Yesterday several of my Facebook "friends" received a spam message, which may also have been a virus, saying how a certain "Anthony" had made big profits using a certain website or software program. They were all too wise to open it so it did no one any damage but I was upset that Facebook security is so lax. Tonight I deactivated my account and do not intend to re-activate it anytime soon.
It does solve certain problems that concerned me beforehand. I was once thrilled that I could find long lost friends and ex's through their search engine, but once they agreed to be my "friends", not one of them indicated any interest in my life or responded to emails from me asking what is going on in their lives. Also, I was still a Facebook "friend" with another guy who used to be close a year ago but who no longer answers emails or contacts me when passing through town. He regularly posts on Facebook so I am aware that he has been in my vicinity many times in the past few months, and each visit to my area is like adding another snub to my already bruised feelings. I considered deleting him as a "friend" but that seemed too retaliatory and too permanent. Now all of them have been deleted. Most of them know my home e-mail address but I bet anything that they will never contact me again, and that will be fine with me. No friend like a bad one.
It does solve certain problems that concerned me beforehand. I was once thrilled that I could find long lost friends and ex's through their search engine, but once they agreed to be my "friends", not one of them indicated any interest in my life or responded to emails from me asking what is going on in their lives. Also, I was still a Facebook "friend" with another guy who used to be close a year ago but who no longer answers emails or contacts me when passing through town. He regularly posts on Facebook so I am aware that he has been in my vicinity many times in the past few months, and each visit to my area is like adding another snub to my already bruised feelings. I considered deleting him as a "friend" but that seemed too retaliatory and too permanent. Now all of them have been deleted. Most of them know my home e-mail address but I bet anything that they will never contact me again, and that will be fine with me. No friend like a bad one.
Sunday, January 3, 2010
Fresh from Brazil
Renan (pronounced HEY-na) arrived yesterday. His scheduled arrival at YVR was 9:30 so I hustled off to Joe's for an early breakfast an hour before that. Back home I did last minute cleaning and straightening. He didn't arrive and didn't arrive so I started downloading music and making a pattern for my second tulip window. I completed the entire 220-piece pattern and had cut, foiled and soldered 12 pieces before he finally showed up at my door. That was 4pm.
My sister arrived at the same moment to drop my Christmas present (we're Ukrainian wanna-bes) and she brought with her three frozen turkey dinners. I told Renan to relax and that I'd be back in 5 minutes after I let her into the parking garage. He nods and says yes to most things, not really understanding. When we walked back in he was half naked. "I didn't flinch when I saw him, did I? my sister asked, after Renan jumped into the shower. No, did I? I replied.
He wasn't hungry so we talked for an hour or so after he was dry again. Sis liked him (who wouldn't) and stayed until 9pm. We put her frozen dinners in the freezer and I took them out to a local sushi restaurant where we ate until it hurt.
Renan seems comfortable with my gayness. The true sign he is straight is that he is so relaxed about it, which my younger gay couch surfers never are. I'm not lecherous or obsessive, but it's wonderful to meet a young man who has the glow of someone raised on love and respect who obviously has never been deeply disappointed or hurt. It brings out my protective fathering instinct.
Friday, January 1, 2010
New Year's Day, 2010
I've had a quiet but industrious start to the new year. I've cleaned my place, all but the floors, in anticipation of my next couch surfer, Renan, a 19-yr old Brazilian, who will arrive tomorrow morning just after 10 am.
I have also completed the 200-piece tulip window for Germen, the first of two, which involved completing the soldering of the second side of the second half, cleaning and adding copper patina to discolour the solder, soldering the two halves together and cutting and attaching a frame around the entire window to give it more strength.
The attached picture is awful, I know. This wet day is almost without daylight and the only place I could photograph it was on my window sill partially obscured by another window that is hanging in front of the upper right corner.
The past day has been quiet. There were few calls at work yesterday, but management no longer lets some of us go on New Year's and Christmas eves as it once used to. I had been invited to spend last evening at Aunty Tinkerbell's but I declined. He had half a dozen other friends or more in his crowded bachelor apartment over for dinner. Actually, he led them across the street to buy dinner at the Urban Fare cafeteria (right before it closed at 6) and haul it back to his place where they spent the evening watching a Hugh Jackman song and dance show on TV. I feigned not feeling well, knowing his place would be too crowded for comfort, knowing his furniture was too low to easily get out of and knowing I would have to struggle up the steep hill back to my place through streets filled with rain, hooligans and drunk drivers. I didn't feel like watching TV either.
I did go out to the Fountainhead briefly, to have a dinner and watch the Canucks lose. There was no air of celebration in the pub, no special plans for the New Year's as they were closing at 11. I hoped to run into Kal, who said he would likely end up there, but he wasn't there. I left before the game was officially over.
The steady rain did not seem to deter the revelers on the streets last night, with their amazing lungs. (Opera singers should not be allowed to drink!) Around 1 am I put on a CD I recently recorded of the Waterboys to drown them out, and I drifted off to sleep.
I haven't been out today. My sister had planned to bring one of her best friends to see me and my place full of stained glass artwork. Janice, her friend, is the sister of my former best friend, Brian, when I was going through puberty. She has been eager to meet me again after 30 years, sis says, but sis has terrible back pain today and can't make the drive. Janice will have to wait a little longer. She doesn't talk to Brian anymore. She tells Linda he has become a stereotypical homophobic redneck fireman. I had quite the opposite impression of him when I met him and his family in 1990. He asked me if it was OK that he was straight, if we could still be friends, which was very cute, but he didn't return my calls after I moved back here in 1996.
Stephen C canceled his New Year's Day levee planned for today due to lack of interest, although I had responding that I was coming. I had already bought the food but I guess it will be part of tonight's dinner.
"Leo", Stephen C's Vietnamese friend living in Saskatoon, arrived in town last night. We still haven't met but he will be staying with me next week after Renan leaves. He called around noon but wasn't available to visit me. At least he isn't calling me 3 or 4 times per day and asking me relationship-oriented questions, then challenging me when I didn't give him the answers his ideal lover should. I suspect he's going to be high maintenance. Wouldn't be so bad if he was cuter, but I was on the verge of telling him to find accommodation elsewhere.
I am in a fine mood overall, in spite of weather and cancellations. I have made it all the way from August 6 to the end of the year without a fall. I am on Day 148 and (still) counting.
I have also completed the 200-piece tulip window for Germen, the first of two, which involved completing the soldering of the second side of the second half, cleaning and adding copper patina to discolour the solder, soldering the two halves together and cutting and attaching a frame around the entire window to give it more strength.
The attached picture is awful, I know. This wet day is almost without daylight and the only place I could photograph it was on my window sill partially obscured by another window that is hanging in front of the upper right corner.
The past day has been quiet. There were few calls at work yesterday, but management no longer lets some of us go on New Year's and Christmas eves as it once used to. I had been invited to spend last evening at Aunty Tinkerbell's but I declined. He had half a dozen other friends or more in his crowded bachelor apartment over for dinner. Actually, he led them across the street to buy dinner at the Urban Fare cafeteria (right before it closed at 6) and haul it back to his place where they spent the evening watching a Hugh Jackman song and dance show on TV. I feigned not feeling well, knowing his place would be too crowded for comfort, knowing his furniture was too low to easily get out of and knowing I would have to struggle up the steep hill back to my place through streets filled with rain, hooligans and drunk drivers. I didn't feel like watching TV either.
I did go out to the Fountainhead briefly, to have a dinner and watch the Canucks lose. There was no air of celebration in the pub, no special plans for the New Year's as they were closing at 11. I hoped to run into Kal, who said he would likely end up there, but he wasn't there. I left before the game was officially over.
The steady rain did not seem to deter the revelers on the streets last night, with their amazing lungs. (Opera singers should not be allowed to drink!) Around 1 am I put on a CD I recently recorded of the Waterboys to drown them out, and I drifted off to sleep.
I haven't been out today. My sister had planned to bring one of her best friends to see me and my place full of stained glass artwork. Janice, her friend, is the sister of my former best friend, Brian, when I was going through puberty. She has been eager to meet me again after 30 years, sis says, but sis has terrible back pain today and can't make the drive. Janice will have to wait a little longer. She doesn't talk to Brian anymore. She tells Linda he has become a stereotypical homophobic redneck fireman. I had quite the opposite impression of him when I met him and his family in 1990. He asked me if it was OK that he was straight, if we could still be friends, which was very cute, but he didn't return my calls after I moved back here in 1996.
Stephen C canceled his New Year's Day levee planned for today due to lack of interest, although I had responding that I was coming. I had already bought the food but I guess it will be part of tonight's dinner.
"Leo", Stephen C's Vietnamese friend living in Saskatoon, arrived in town last night. We still haven't met but he will be staying with me next week after Renan leaves. He called around noon but wasn't available to visit me. At least he isn't calling me 3 or 4 times per day and asking me relationship-oriented questions, then challenging me when I didn't give him the answers his ideal lover should. I suspect he's going to be high maintenance. Wouldn't be so bad if he was cuter, but I was on the verge of telling him to find accommodation elsewhere.
I am in a fine mood overall, in spite of weather and cancellations. I have made it all the way from August 6 to the end of the year without a fall. I am on Day 148 and (still) counting.
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