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Thursday, March 21st, 2002
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12:31 pm - Kids
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Picture me on a snowsled in Minneapolis, dashing over hill and dale. It's -22 degrees outside and I don't care.
Now picture me on the beach, attempting to stand up for the first time on a surfboard WHAM! there go two teeth.
Now I'm driving - 16 years old - taking the twisties through Bonsall canyon, past the horse ranches.
And then my first gay bar, on the dance floor, staring up at some gorgeous go-go boy.
Now picture me with two kids, one 6 - boy, and one 4 - a girl. What - can't do it? It makes you shudder? Your mind reels in spasm? Mine too.
Dogbeau's bad sister, who's cracked out and broke and homeless is losing custody of her kids to the state. The state has a couple of possibilities of where to put these kids. With the grandmother, who is probably to close and too much to blame for the situation, the older sister, who lives in Texas, the brother, who's gay and lives with his gay partner (who hates kids) in a one bedroom apartment, and state-conrolled foster care. So did you pick A? maybe. B? better. c? uh - no. or D? Yes it sucks but D is the correct answer. At least I think. `
But Dogbeau wants it to be option C - US! Listen folks, I can tolerate a lot fo things in my life - and I have. Being gay was probably the best and worst thing that could have happened. But there is one consellation prize with being a homo, in my eyes. That one thing that helps soften the torture of low self-esteem, abuse, bullying, discrimination - the fact that kids were just not going to happen. I mean thank you GOD! I was not meant to be parent. But Dogbeau wants to. And he wants to now. And this comes in the middle of a thousand other turmoils - houses and jobs and money and cars and stress and psycho-shit and WHATHEFUCK am I supposed to do with two kids.
Now this hasn't happened yet and Dogbeau is backing off after I basically said - baby - it's them or me. I'm sorry that sucks but that's the way it is. I'm a mean motherfucker.
current mood:  nauseated
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| Tuesday, March 19th, 2002
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1:38 pm - Life as a capitalist
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There was a time when I was happy with nothing. This was, of course, after the time when I was the little rich boy who got everything. So from everything to nothing and now....approaching everything again. Well maybe not EVERYthing but certainly quite a lot of crap. Two weeks ago I bought my boyfriend a truck. A nice truck. A second car for both of us but really because he just doesn't want to take the train anymore to work. Who could blame him? The waiting, the standing, the waiting some more. And why does it cost like 2 billion a year to run - I have no idea. Anyway, he has a truck now which he commutes to downtown Atlanta in and he's happy. I'm happy.
And then the house business. We have just signed a contract on a house in cabbagetown. It's the perfect house in probably a less-than-perfect neighborhood. But I don't know. Maybe it is exactly where I should be. See, I grew up in homogenous Amerika. We had a yard and a pool and a couple of cars and totally suburban perfection. Irvine-esque. And now being middle-aged, I was finding myself moving back towards that homogenous lifestyle. In searching for houses, I picked the - not generic - but the next step up from that. Cabbagetown is none of that. It's wacky and ditzy and scummy and yuppified and trailer-trash and intown and small-town and expensive and poor and dangerous and safe and it needs paint and it's been freshly painted. I's me. It's the me that I love that I'm scared of or that I don't know what to do with. I'm sure that's why I am laying awake at night not knowing how to feel. Thank god I'm alive.
Weightloss is slowed but I am down a total of 14 lbs now - and I really haven't been trying. I think this week I will get my diet on.
I finished dream workshop #2. I am still in some sort of stasis. It's foggy.
I can't stop meeting admirers. No no - not like that. I mean I am not even trying. I'm just sitting in a restaurant and some boy comes up to me and starts chatting and flirting and pretty soon numbers are exchanged and next I'm eating his ass. And then he calls his friend who sends me an e-mail and says he heard I was good and viola - ass banging commences! And they are ALL in love and thay ALL want to kill my boyfriend. Hmm maybe I could put the position of Dogbeau up for bid? You learn a few things from being married to a republican.
"...your brother's having a heart attack!"
"I don't care - SELL SELL SELL!!! Where's Beeks!?!? SELL!!! SELL!!!"
current mood: busy
current music: blink182 - no comments please I like em
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| Wednesday, February 27th, 2002
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2:50 pm
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Today I stumble on this message board on "fuckedcompany.com" about the failure of G+L Bank - the gay online bank. No big deal, I mean why do we need a gay bank anyway. Ok, but I am reading this message board and I am disgusted and outraged and hurt and fearful because it is seven LONG pages of nothing but fag bashing. FUCK! I'm so pissed off, by the time I was done -- well I just had to go outside in the freezing cold and get inside my car and scream at the top of my lungs.
Why don't we bash these fuckers back. Why isn't there just one whacked dude or dudette among us that will go shoot that Alabama supreme court justice in the face or slice off Buchanan's skull and use a Cuisinart on his part. Why the fuck do we put up with disgusting uneducated dirty mindless fucks at all. Why don't we herd em up Hilter Style and force em to eat shit and then burn them alive. After all, they threaten us with this kind of shit everyday. I'd like to get 5 of my friends with a decent arm and find just any random neo-nazi conservative republican fuck - Bill Byrne of Cobb County comes to mind - and just beat the shit out of him.
I hate everyone right now. Including me for spouting such replusion.
current mood:  infuriated
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| Tuesday, February 26th, 2002
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1:26 pm - Torture
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I didn't get home last night until 4:30am. I woke up at 8:30am and arrived at work at 9:20 - 20 minutes late.
I had the weigh-in today. Well I decided to go down a few minutes early and get a snadwich from the cafe and take it to the meeting. I opened the meeting room door and 50 faces immediately turned to see who was coming in. DUH! I felt like an ass.
I got on the scale - AFTER eatin my lunch. I gained 3 pounds. This is the lunch - at least I hope.
Finally - the dream workshop. Tomorrow is the last session and I am so pleased. I'm over it - two sessions was too many. I've got too much going on and just not in the mood to focus on this stuff. I was supposed to turn in my work by Monday at the latest. Now I am getting harassing e-mail... because it's not done.
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| Wednesday, February 20th, 2002
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12:52 pm - Hump Day Good Day
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A few updates:
Little to no action on selling the house. But good thoughts and positive attitudes, not to mention lots of extra work my Michael and I *will* make it happen. The new house is looking fabulous. They are finishing the floors, installing the cabinets, and soon the carpet. Yay.
Weight Watchers - I must tell you - is helping a lot. I think the difference is doing it at work. They're 20+ people in the group and what's cool - we all started at the same time - so we are all at the same point in our pain. Nothing like bitching to my fellow girls about downing a pint of Haagen-Dazs. Anyway, lost another 3+ pounds...so that's 9 pounds in 3 weeks. Awesome.
Today I won a table for 6 at Chastain for the summer concert series with the Atlanta Symphony. This is part of a fund raiser my company was doing for the Woodruff Arts Center. I think I donated like $550 - and getting a $700 table back. That's good ROI!
Tonight is dream workshop - second to last week. I look forward to its conclusion. Ugh.
current mood:  cheerful
current music: Pavement
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| Friday, February 15th, 2002
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2:42 pm - Fridayo
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Holy fuck thank god it's Friday. I have been pummelled with work all week not to mention the phlem of life. Of course the weekend is nothing about rest. I have to clean like a meth-ho so we can sell this bitch apartment. Now that it is on the market - oh thank GOD! I think I hate it. No, I know I hate it. It's not the apartment but the fucking neighbors. Those sticky sweet old southern windbags who need some valium. Those fucking dykes having crazy monkey sex from the ceiling fan and howling like they shoved the titanic up their cunts. The damn Indian doctor fucks who someone think being in some high caste makes them better than everyone else. Hello, you're still from Indian you South Asian Dirty Fuck. And then there is KT - my next door neighbor. This guy is so whack - well he's so whack is wife cut her own throat about 3 years ago, his one daughter ran away and his other daughter is trying to go to college in China or something. I hate this man. I wish I could share all the stuff but I have legal things pending against him. Anyway..
So this weekend I have to clean the house, do the laundry, do the condo stuff, take my XML training, and work on my new client. Yes, lots of rest.
current mood: pleased
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| Thursday, February 14th, 2002
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9:58 am - Stressola
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Yesterday sucked for no direct reason. Just this culmination of stuff surronding work, new house, moving, finances, and of course the dream workshop. I didn't go last week - called in sick. The truth was I was totally "in my shit" fromt he previous weeks work and I just didn't want to deal with it. I admitted this at last nights meeting to the usual glib response from Cliff "that is YOUR issue, Todd" God I hate hearing the sound of my name sometimes. Anyway, so last night we reenacted this dream of mine. I was essentially lost in the woods with this sexy boy from my past. So I pick one guy to play him and everyone else is the forest. OH GOD!!!!! They surronded me and kept repeating "Who do you love, Todd" Who do you love, Todd Who do you love, Todd Who do you love, Todd Who do you love, Todd Who do you love, Todd Who do you love, Todd Who do you love, Todd Who do you love, Todd Who do you love, ToddWho do you love, ToddWho do you love, ToddWho do you love, ToddWho do you love, ToddWho do you love, ToddWho do you love, ToddWho do you love, ToddWho do you love, Todd
Fuck
I wanted to to unzip my skin and leave it in a pile and run from there as far as possible. The work probably won't hit me for another days.
The House
The house looks fabulous. Somebody better by the damn thing so we can move in the even-more beautiful place. Very excited - trying to contain my enthusiasm for fear of the whole deal falling apart.
I've lost 7 pounds. Nuff said.
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| Tuesday, February 5th, 2002
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1:57 pm - A new House
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Many days, life bores me. Walk up, stumble around, shower, drive, pretend to work, drive, stumble around, fall asleep. In most people's lives, maybe once a quarter or so, something interesting happens. They fall down the stairs. The wreck their car. They get fisted. And then there is my life.
In my life, something interesting happens every single day. Most days I just don't notice. The problem is when I go to long without noticing, then the universe gets pissy and sends the wake-up-call. This month's wake-up call has 3 bedrooms and 2.5 baths. It really is very beautiful and I am very excited about another new house - though the prospect of all the hassles that I am already enduring and that I will continue to endure will likely make me crazy. Combine this with my "new way of eating" AND the dream workshop. Oh god - just shoot me. No no - I'm awake I'm awake.
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| Monday, February 4th, 2002
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3:36 pm - Damn you....
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Damn you X
Damn you Boyfriend X (the original)
Damn you all to hell
See, if it wasn't for the two of you buying a house here and my boyfriend going out one day to shop around for boyfriend-X, then I wouldn't have done the awful deed that has happened.
I have bougtht a NEW house. Holy Jesus Christo
I HATE you.
current mood: pissed off
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| Thursday, January 31st, 2002
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9:45 am - Dreams and No Food
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Last night's dream workshop was amazing. What an interesting group of people. Sometimes I feel like I am in a room of victims (which we are) and sometimes I think I am in a room with some of the most enlightened folks I've met (which we are). One of the things we *I* am focusing on is the roles we are asked to play in these animations of the underworld. In both dreams last night, I played these masculine, grounded solid figures.
In Richard's dream I played his brother, who was the protector from Dad. How much I wish I had had that protector when I was a kid. So I was there between Richard and his father - offering them both a joint.
In Beth's dream, I played the Raven Man, who was her incarnation of her own phallus. In her dream he was a muscle-man, born of a black raven that was distrupting everyone's life. Again, her I stood between her and her other stuff, which was screaming and withering on the floor. At the end of her dream, she united with her soul (portrayed by Winona Ryder) and it was so beautiful and moving.
No FOOD
Ok, it's what, day 4? This is hard as fuck. I did have a slip late last night - after the workshop. I need a little comfort, which turned into a peanut butter sandwich. This is not something I would normally eat at all but I was desperate and it was within reach. Otherwise, I have stuck to this goddamn fast thing amazingly well. It must be working. Last night two different people commented on my smiling. It's probably this fog I am walking around in that is making me feel happy. Basically I am just in a daze and have these urges every 2-3 minutes for
CHEESECAKEICECREAMCHEESEBU
RGERF RIESSHAKEDEEPFRIEDCH
ICKENANYTHINGWITHCARMELAND
SCRUPTIOUSSHAVINGSOFDONUTS
ONTOPOFGIANTPINTSOFBENANDJ
ERRYSOHGODKILLMEKILLMENOWD
ONTMAKEMESUFFERANYMOREMUST
HAVEFOOD
i'Ll bE fiNe
current mood: chipper
current music: Ultravox -in an 80's mood-
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| Wednesday, January 30th, 2002
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9:29 am - The Fast - Day 3
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Talk about synchronicity...
Yesterday they formed a weight watchers group at work. So I joined. The program is good and probably what I need to get started. Plus lots of co-workers are doing it so there is some support and competition.
The fast is proceding. I have had no more barfing episodes and thankfully I have had no severe headaches like last time. I completed the fresh fruits and vegetables phase last night with one "cheat". I ate some soy faux-chicken nuggets. Actually they weren;t too bad I meant eat some another time. So today through Sunday is strictly juicing and water. As a side effect, I have already lost 8 pounds of water. This will return by next week I'm sure.
Tonight is more dream workshop. I've had some really funky dreams the last couple of nights - though I haven't been writing them down. I will catch-up here at work.
Dense dense dense fog here in Atlanta. Very odd. And today it's supposed to be 75. This is January - hello!
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| Tuesday, January 29th, 2002
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9:13 am - The Fast - Day 2
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Well - I am feeling quite successful thus far. Yesterday and today's transition period is going quite well. Monday's consumption was as follows:
1 Banana
Small bowl of fresh greens (which made me gag)
1 Orange
1 cup of soup
1.5 gallons of water.
Now that last item was definitely NOT on the agenda. Monday and Tuesday is supposed to be fresh fruits and vegetables only. But I didn't have the car and couldn't make it to the store so come dinner time - I had to find something at home. Regardless, I am quite proud of myself. Michael even ate a Burger King right in front of me - Oh vey!
Ao another day of food-lite and then Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday - nada (except huge quantities of water and various herbal potions).
Yes, I do feel like crap. Threw up some wierd bile this morning. And it's only just begun!
current mood: Sour
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| Monday, January 28th, 2002
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1:00 pm - The Fast
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The time has come. Time to do something about this poor neglected, tire, obese bod of mine. Lee and I are going on a detoxification fast for the next week. I've done this before and let me tell you - it's pure hell. But in the end - you feel great. In addition, I have start WW again. First meeting is tomorrow.
In addition, I am continuing the dream workshop. So with all this stuff - I should be either a basket case or near perfection.
Speaking of basket cases, have you heard the news from Rome? Apparently Bag ladies have migrated there, but I am certain only until the mother hen comes home. God what an idiot.
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| Tuesday, January 22nd, 2002
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10:04 am - oh and what a mother!
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I wonder how much I've spent trying to unravel the crap that his filled my head and my heart for so many years. What would I include? Clearly therapy costs. Spiritual Retreats. Psychic fairs. Religious Explorations. All alcohol purchases. Pot. Coke. Speed. Acid. Lube. Fast Food. Gym memberships (purchased, never used). Speeding tickets. Credit Card debts. Bankruptcy costs. Paint. Brushes. Guitar. Yoga. Ick. All these things come from either acting out or trying to escape from MY reality.
I thought I had made such progress. I thought I had subdued the demon that is Linda, or is it Lynn. Why can't she pick a name?
I am so angry still. She is such a fuck cunt bitch from hell. Negative about the whole world when it doesn't fit her definition. Desperate to control everything and angry when she can't. She gives me her usual line about creating YOUR own reality. And then I ask her - oh - so you're happy then?
Saturday morning: "Is something wrong? I sense some tension between us."
Jesus fucking christ are you this blind? Can you not see the 10o0lb gorilla in the room beating the fuck out of me. All this shit is just laying here...ankle deep. Go on, have another BOTTLE of wine. "Why should I stop drinking?" You're over the edge, bitch.
Just go away.
current mood: pissed off
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| Friday, January 18th, 2002
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12:50 pm
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I am down the hall, talking with the facilites person about needing a key to a storage room. Suddenly the power goes out to the whole building and there is a very loud explosion. Then these alarms go off I have never heard before - orange flashing lights and a computer voice repeating "Emergency Systems start in 10 seconds...Emergency Systems start in 7 seconds..." During this countdown then there was this huge rumble sound and the roof below my window opened up like a rocket was going to launch and then thick smoke started to blow out the opening. This commotion was our generators starting. But I swear, it was like the craziest thing you have ever seen.
Turns out some construction dumbasses next door cut a power line...ours. We will be on generators for a while.
Group Dream Conclusion
The final episode of the dream workshop took place on Wednesday. All I can say is wow. Very much like the Enrique Pardo workshop, with the movement - leaders and followers - and then a type of round-robin where each person came up-front to be the focus person. A lot of anger. A lot of sadness. From everyone. I think most touching was M's work as his wife had just lost their baby earlier in the week and it was the first time he had really grieved about it. Mine was anger - which is what all my work has been about and what I feel often. Michael points it out to me regularly, which of course makes me angrier.
Mom is staying in the den. She is planning a departure on Sunday AM. Then I can...move on. Hmm interesting choice of words. She is totally nuts and totally fucked up and still sure everyone elseis wrong but her. Fuck she drives me nuts. This move will never happen.
3 day weekend. Hmmm.
current mood: good
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| Wednesday, January 16th, 2002
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11:30 am - BZ
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Tonight is the last night of the dream workshop. IT's been great getting back in the groove, so to speak. Feeding my soul. Unfortunately, I can now trace the recent, umm, rough seas at home directly to the beginning of this work. Are we surprised - hell no. Shit why is this so difficult. Why are the ones that stir us so fucked up and the ones that are good for us stifle us all the same. Richard was over last night. We were chatting and he told me that I should have more parties like I used - and make Michael go somewhere else. Thank you thank you thank you I have someone who agreed. We both agreed he turns into a sweet but blabbering idiot. It's very unattractive and annoying. Someone else agrees thank you jesus. But I'm always the bad guy.
So tonight is the last night of the dream workshop - were doing some group dream. Should be very interesting. Yes mom is still here. Here new departure time is AM on SUNDAY which menas she will be staying with me Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights. Friday she is going to do some preliminary real estate shopping. Yes, ladies and germs, you heard me. She wants to move here. We shall see.
I spent 30 minutes today changing toner in the color printer. That's my highlight.
current mood: Fine
current music: The Best of James Bond
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| Monday, January 14th, 2002
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12:54 pm - Oh can't I?
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Mommie Dearest is still here. She's fine I guess. Marney, Mom, Michael, and I had dinner at home Friday night. Drinks and many bottles of wine, everyone was feeling pretty loopy. Especially my boyfriend, lightest of lightweights in the drinking department. He was his usual sloppy drunken self and decides that to be the time to ridicule me. This time I was a "coward." Coward means I don't stand up to sales clerks or waitron when they are not providing the service WE should be receiving. It is true, I don't like confrontation and would sooner just pay and get out of there. Michael, on the other hand, is a a complete Jew, in the best sense. After all, a nickel is nickel. These are the differences in our personalities and likely the reason we are together. I was very hurt by the whole coward thing. This on top of the various screaming matches about money and then the crown jewel of fights - the Friday night before Florida. What is strikingly in common with these two fights is both invloved Michael in some inebriated state. I'm not sure I will ever get over the Friday night fight - it keeps coming back in my mind. I keep seeing it a reliving it. But can I talk to Michael about it. No, he's totally incapable of that. It's not at some overwhelming state, where I am consumed by dread, but I am not very happy right now.
Money sucks. The root of all evel kinevel. The situation is so grim I had to get an advace from a client (Thankyew again). Of course this will just fuck February but at least it will keep the boat afloat for now. I am have been working on the books for the business so that I can do the schedule K's. These should be done about the time the W-2's arrive from the carious sources which means we should get our money back from the government Mid-February. If I could just bring in another $7500/month, everything would be fine.
Well at the moment I am supposed to be finishing up these Framemaker files. Did I mention Lee is an annoying fuck and Richard is a moron? Oy.
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| Monday, January 7th, 2002
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3:30 pm
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Mom arrives on Wednesday for 10 days of shopping. I have to reflect, as my friend Lee points out to me regularly, how much my life has changed in such a short period of time. 5 years ago, the folks and I were just barely on speaking terms. They, unhappy with my queerly ways; me, disgusted with them in every imaginable way. I was in the middle of working out my shit at Cliff's. What a trip it has been. I've been frustrated and depressed, very sad and hurt, angry, pissed, seething, and then open and loving and in love. A few weeks ago, again through the genius of CB, without him telling me, with just dim lights and music and my fucking dream - I was presented with the NEXT step. We knew there had to be another, right?
To be loved
I didn't know this was something that we don't just have. Or maybe it is but throw childhood and the process of "maturing" (in the worst sense), it can get reprogrammed from To be loved into To be loathed. I loath myself and assume everyone else does too. Don't overthink that - I'm nothing like I was. All changed and confident. But there are certain pieces of the puzzle missing and this is certainly a big one. It explains a lot. It explains my uncomfortableness with my relationship with Michael - from the very beginning. Yeah it was great to trick with him, but after a few weeks and then a few months and the 'L' word, it was all ewwww. How can this be? Sex with someone I know and care about: how gross.
But how do you learn how To be loved? It's more than just not apologizing when someone pays you a compliment. NOTE: that's not even love, that's just like. So what about love? How are you 'loved'? And I am! Profusely. My lover, my friends, my ex-lovers. Yes even the dreaded parentals really do love me. Too bad they are so fucked up. My mother cried one night as we sat under the stars together and she talked about how amazed she was how my life was so 'together' and at 58 years old, she was a wreck! She still was dealing with the same stuff that she was when I was 15. I told her, in these words, that she hadn't dealt with anything. She medicated and denied her way right to the space she was December 2001. She never dealt with the suicide of her mother, the back and forth between extended family. Her abandonment and running to California. Her acting-out 20's. Her miserable marriage #1. Her miserable marriage #2. She is miserable. But I can't help but to slyly grin when i remember all that crazy bullshit. Reaping and sowing - it's oh so true.
Anyway, she's coming to shop and stuff. The good news is she will buy me stuff. And I have little to complain about now. She loves my boyfriend. She's fairly pleasant to be around - just don't run out of Kendall Jackson.
current mood:  contemplative
current music: Susannah McCorkle
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| Friday, January 4th, 2002
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9:41 am - Snow, Christmas, and more
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Here is a quick update. Went to the parents in Florida for Christmas. All things considering, it was a very pleasant time. The folks were on very good behavior. Michael and I seemed to work for them continuously. First ti was reload Dad's PC. Then Mom opened her new one. The various adjustments to that machine. Then Dad wanted the old laptop - and on and on. Oh, did I mention the 5 hour ordeal to rewire the TV and cable. Ugh. This wouldn't have taken Michael and I more than a few minutes except that Dad is Dad.
We came back to Atlanta on Friday night - got in about 1:00AM. Driving at night made the trip much more enjoyable. No traffic - Michael was sleepy so he dozed off. We had new CD's to play along the way. All was good.
New Years Eve was very low key, just me, Michael, and Richard. Basically did nothing for a few days.
Wednesday 1/2/01 was the first day back at work since I left on Dec 20. Just sharing stories and chillin out. However, the whole time I was in the office it was snowing outside. So Thursday was a SNOW DAY!!!. Fabulous. I sat at home and chatted online all day long. Michael had to go to work - payback for all those times he DOESN'T go.
And so now it's Thursday, back in the office. I will try and not do anything all day, though that may be tough. Maybe I will start some reading on XML since I have to go to class on it in a few weeks. I dunno. Anyway, that is the basic update. I have some dream stuff coming up later.
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| Wednesday, December 19th, 2001
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1:14 pm - Traffic Traffic Traffic
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Most of my life I have loved to drive. I played with matchbox as a kid, I drove tractors and mowers around the ranch. When I was 12, 13, 14 I would steal one of the cars while the parentals were out at dinner. I would drive all around Los Angeles. Even ran from the cops once. When I was 15 got my permit and had already purchased three Fiat 850 Spiders. It was a package deal as it took three to keep one running. At 16, I got a Honda Civic. I also owner at 67 Continental, an 83 Cressida, a 96 Golf, a 98 Civic, and currently a 2000 9-5. And you know what? Now I hate driving.
Today, at lunch, I had to venture over to fuckhead to pick-up X prescriptions. 35 fucking minutes later I arrive at the Publix. Ladies and gentlemen, this is about a 3 mile trip. Then I stand in some insanely long line to talk to some fucking dumb ass cunt bitch that can;t speak english, all to be told that the prescription had not been filled. Then I fight even worse traffic to get back to the office - 35 minutes late - and no fucking LUNCH!! And the worst part, I will obviously have to reapeat this fucking ordeal when the prescription is in. All I can say is my "friends" better move closer to me if they except this kind of service. fuckfuckfukcufkkckfhj
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