Between the trash

Last week my car was in the shop because It died at an intersection, I barely made it into work and I ended up getting a ride home with the tow truck guy. I was able to walk home after dropping it off because our mechanic is only a couple of blocks away. It was on that stroll home that my mind flashed to just how dirty my car was and how I'm actually embarressed that someone else is going to now see it. My car is a trash heap.

I was thinking about what that says about a person: how clean (or dirty) you keep your car. On the surface one would obviously conclude that a dirty car means an unkept home, a messy bedroom, a disorganized person or maybe the person is just a slob in general. On the flip side an immaculate car would mean just the opposite. Now my car may be a trash heap on the inside, but that doesn't mean I neglect it's engine, maintanance or body- I'm just a slob. It's strange that my car is trashy, I mean it's not like I walk around with stains on my clothing looking like I'm completely lost, and clueless to everything and everyone around me; but if you didn't know me and I picked you up off the street you might think some crazy thoughts because of just how messy it is. I notice the trash every morning when I get in and tell myself I need to pick it up but days go by, more wrappers, receipts and empty coffee cups get tossed down there and nothing happens. I have 4 empty coffee cups hanging out in my car at this very moment. As I say it, I can't actually believe it; it's like I have a problem or something. As much as I dislike it, I won't clean it.

C. Love and I have had many discussions and arguments about this issue. She likes nothing on the coffee table, I like everything on it. She hates that the one chair in our bedroom has become my chair and is constantly covered with clothing; clothing that I have just taken off, and can't seem to put inside the drawers where they belong. I don't fold, could care less if the bed is made, if the newspaper is on the floor, if the cat's toys are all over the house, or if things are not "picked up"- but I can't stand dirty dishes in the sink or crumbs on the floor. It has become a constant struggle to come to some sort of aggrement around this issue for us. While organization and picked up rooms give me a sense of unease, a messy room makes her anxious. Over the years I've learned to be more consious about things and she has learned to let unimportant things slide. The argument ensues when she's just finished picking up and I unconsciously mess it up. It's like she's just done her hair and I take my hands and rub them all over her head- messing up her work. It's that severe and it feels that personal to her. That's when I get it.

While I do believe organization in one's life is necessary, an obsession over it is not and it's rare that those people who tend to love organization can't help themselves from taking it too far. I think the fact that my car is so messy and I leave it that way it's because I can. It's my space, it's my mess, my car and my decision to live with it. If we shared a car I wouldn't have it this way and if I lived alone I hate to say it but I would be a complete mess and so would my home. I have some issues with being independent, with being "a couple", and with having to "work" at things that don't come naturally- like picking the Sunday newspaper off the floor by noon. So my car has taken on the stage, as the place to let it all hang out.

I wonder if there's a correlation between alphabetizing your cd collection and having a clean car. I don't want to try it to find out.

cocktail hour... or two

Got the grill out today- April 23, the season starts! It officially started last week for me when I noticed Sam Adams Summer brew was back on the shelves, now that was a day to celebrate. As far as the Summer ales go, Sam Adams is my favorite and will be in my fridge from now until late September. Speaking of beer and grills and celebrating I'd like to deticate this post to talking about "cocktail hour" and what that means to everyone out there... fuck, this is totally off the subject, but it's distracting me big time. We have a neighbor who's from Paris and it seems like she has a couple of friends or maybe family over tonight. That's not the problem. What is, is that unfortunately we share a back porch area and they are all on it- completely taking over the space. That's not even the real problem; my issue is that I have to go in and out of that door in about 1/2 hour to grill and before I do that I'm trying to have my own cocktail hour as I write this but the Frenchies are practically standing in my kitchen at this very moment. If I turn around I'll see them and if this post had volume, you'd hear them- the French are very, very loud. Plus I think they may be drinking... shit. I gotta get up and get to my fridge and work in my kitchen, but if I close the door I'm going to seem rude. I hate this. I love my space and I hate when my space gets invaded. I don't speak french, I have no idea what the hell they are saying- fuck.

Anyway, (I'll try to focus) I'm actually writing a book about the subject of cocktail hour and I thought it would be interesting to get the opinions of others to help me along. The book will be a coffee table book with big glossy, cool photos. I'd like it to be about cocktail hour in general and seperate it into seasons; summer of course being my favorite, but I've found that the cocktail hour adapts to it's surroundings: snow, friday evenings, Christmas lights, work related, the summer sun, the cripness of the fall and the openness of spring time. The drinks may be different and the mood enhanced depending on the time of year, but it basically all comes down to three things: drinks before dinner and relaxation.

I honestly don't think enough people take advantage of this hour in the day. It's a fantastic time to step back from everything you've done (or not done) within the last eight hours and imagine what you would like for yourself in the next eight. I was talking to my dad on the phone the other day and he was giving me the run down on what he and my mom had planned for the day. Besides the usual stroll to the beach and working in the yard he threw in "our glass of wine at three o'clock." All I heard was wine and three o'clock. I thought about it for a split second and realized that my parents actually go to bed around 9, eat dinner around 5:30, so it only makes sense that their cocktail hour is between 3 and 4 in the afternoon. Cheers to them.

The point is that whether you choose your cocktail hour to be three, four, five or six- if it's done correctly it can become a time to cherish. Now I'm not talking about "happy hour" where the drinks are half priced between 4 and 5 at the local pub. when I think about cocktail hour my mind wanders to that stretch of time before dinner and after the chores, such as checking the e-mail, playing with the kitty or walking the pooch have been completed. It is with that little stretch of time where our bodies and hopefully minds relax and the drink helps to bring your focus back to what's important in our life. We tend to loose sight of that as we submerge ourselves in our work day, and week. Think of it as an hour long meditation- only there's an alcoholic beverage involved. What could be better.

Cocktail hour becomes a structured time that allows us to let go of the negative stuff and simply relax! It's a funny thing but when our mind knows that it's time to relax, our bodies follow. The goal here is to dedicate time for ourselves and celebrate with our favorite beverage-alcoholic or not. So break out the cheese and crackers, crack open that wine or beer and sit back for an hour. Slow down and cherish the good thoughts.

Update: the frenchies have gone inside and my food is on the grill. C. Love has a friend over to help her with the website so it's up to me to get the dinner on the table in time. I just brought them some wine, and some italian bread with (excellent) olive oil for dipping. I got my own Sam Adams and bread in the kitchen. So here's the deal: I want some fresh ideas having to do with cocktail hour. Let me know your favorite environment to drink in when it comes to "the hour", or your favorite appetizer or your favorite drink- whatever it may be. If I use any of your words or ideas or anything in my book I'll give ya a little something... or at the very least I'll throw the hugest cocktail party you've ever been to... and you're invited. Get to work- actually, pour yourself a drink, sit back and relax and imagine cocktail hour- then comment. Thank you all in advance. Here's a toast to the hour- whatever the hour may be.

Random Monday Thoughts

I was just going through the photos on my phone and I noticed I have about six of the women above, Mia Hamm. I also have two of Amy Ray, but that's another story. Last October we were invited to a luncheon given in honor of Mia. She received some kind of award that day; gave a speech, signed some autographs and met some fans. C. Love has always been kind of obsessed with Mia, the way she looks and the way she handles the soccer ball so getting the chance to meet her face to face, up close and personal was a little overwhelming to say the least.

I was thinking about how so many people have these fantasies and stuff about people in the news, or on T.V. and I don't think I ever have. It kind of makes me sad, like I've been deprived or something. I remember saying to C. Love that day that Mia looked hot, I mean she looked really hot... and I don't say that about too many people. The picture doesn't really show that, except you can kind of get an idea of how "fitting" her clothes were, and belive me the pants were even better. Mia has never gotten any awards for the most stylish of athletes, but that day at the luncheon sure made up for all of her past so- so appearances. I've always thought Mia was attractive, but not sexy-until last October.

Then I was thinking about what's sexy to one person isn't necessarily sexy to another, and then I was thinking about recieving a Victoria's Secret package for C. Love at work today and how everyone gave me a jokingly hard time; like it was sexy lingerie or some shit. Then I was thinking how sexy lingerie doesn't do it for me... then I was thinking, what does? I may be in the minority here but I'd rather see someone with their clothes (as long as they're not old gray sweats) on, rather than see them nude. Lace and skin? no thanks. Where the hell am I going with this. I don't know, all this Fed Ex talk is getting to me because I've never even seen a hot Fed Ex chick! What's the problem?

The problem is I can't seem to wrap my brain around things that aren't real. Real as in having seen face to face; after that? forget about it, or should I say I can't forget about it. I have a hard time letting things go from my mind if they make an impact. Anyway from sexy Mia Hamm my mind went to the weather and just how nice it was out today, it was 71 degrees! Finally. I can't say enough about how I love warm weather, but on the down side to that I HATE warm weather fashion, or should I say bad fashion. Here's just a few of the things I noticed today that made me stop dead in my tracks and say to myself "what the hell are they thinkin?"

Now remember it's only 71 degrees in April- not 101 in August.
1. Women with half shirts on. Now most of the time I'm not even sure if these shirts are supposed to be half shirts or that they're just too small for the size of the mid-section.

2. Men with short shorts. No man should ever wear short shorts, running, walking or lounging short shorts, unless they are a gay man in Provincetown. (even then it's questioable)

3. Men with huge white feet and sandals. I have a hard time seeing anyone's bare feet, but especially men with weird, white, huge, toes. Are your feet sweating? why now, why today.

4. Little girls or young teens with flip flops, tank tops and underwear for shorts. Cute? No.

5. Women in pleated shorts. Again, it's not really hot outside today and even if it was pleated shorts? come on now. Get some pants on.

6. Teens with sweat pants and flip flops. Sweat pants with anything written on the ass should be taken off the market and young females wanting to show their ass, belly button and breasts off when wearing them makes me angry .

7. Little kids in pajamas- outside. What the fuck is this?! I saw 4 different children in two different places wearing their pajamas. Two kids (like 7) were at the mall and two kids (maybe 8 and 6) were RIDING THEIR BIKES on my street. Riding their bikes?! What's going on? I don't get it. They were really pajamas by the way. I'm not joking.

If anyone has any answers to any of these mind blowing scenes please enlighten me. So that was my Monday. Has anyone seen Mia Hamm lately? I know she's in LA with Nomar, but that's all I know. So many questions today, hopefully the rest of the week will be a little more settling.

Kick back and relax

The other day I was noticing that most of my posts are long and I actually apologized for it in one of them. My apology stems from my own dislike for other people's long posts and my inability to stay with the words long enough to grasp the meaning- if there is one. I have a short attention span, sometimes taking it as far as to say I have adult A.D.D. I don't, but at times it comes in handy to say I do.

It's funny, not funny ha ha, but ironic funny that I really like the idea of someone sitting with one of my posts maybe long enough to enjoy a glass of wine or at least a meaningful moment in time. That idea is very enticing to me and I need to thank earth monkey for throwing it my way. she commented on my apology and said that she doesn't mind the length of my posts, she just plans on staying a little longer when she comes over. I liked the sound of that. I've always been a bit envious of the bloggers out there who can simply write one sentence or one thought or one conversation or mention one thing. Viewing the world in black and white with a little pink or green or blue thrown in amazes me because as zoe has noticed, I can be a bit intense and thought provoking when it comes to sharing my view and commenting on situations. I like when there's meaning to things, when it's not always as straightforward as what's right in front of our eyes. It's what I hated about the movie "Crash" and the same thing I loved in the movie "Brokeback Mountain". Anything that leaves me thinking and doesn't do the thinking for me- you know what I mean? Sometimes what it is, is just what it is and that's cool too, but if it's not I can't help but notice and point it out.

Anyway, when earth monkey said what she said I took the rest of the evening to sit with it. Literally, on the kitchen floor. Typically on Friday night C. Love and I like to keep it simple; no entertaining, no bar scene, no cooking, no buisness- just us. Usually it's pizza and beer and we'll see where that goes type of night, or in the case of last night it was pizza and wine. Something's working right when you can spend a good hour or so sitting on the kitchen floor with your partner drinking wine while discussing life and love- it's cool. So many times I feel like we're living out potential scenes in movies. Here's the scene: Small, old, that yellow type of dim lighting, colorful kitchen, a black and white checkerboard floor, little christmas lights hanging up, an adorable kitten rolling around, bottles of wine sitting everywhere, various interesting prints on the wall, my sexy girlfriend sitting on a stool... The conversation is about our future, about our dreams, about what we think and how we think it. Cool thoughts, words, visions and a feeling that something bigger is going on- some love thrown in... it's all good and it's just really a pizza and wine Friday night. That scene in the movie you'd remember because of how it made you feel, not because of a great Beth Orton song in the background or a certain line that was delivered.

We killed the wine, devoured the pizza and brought the party, conversation and love to the couch. I was thinking about this blog of mine and what earth monkey led me to imagine. I think it would be cool if I had a blog that was considered a place to go to when people wanted to kick back and just be. Read, laugh, think, maybe get angry, get confused, feel warm, feel safe, and take their sweet time doing it. I like thinking of potentially being that go to place where people can get some down time. I'm all for the down time. That's one reason I like baseball, the game is so long and sloooow. Sometimes it feels as though my mind is on cruise control and when people are talking to me I can see their lips moving and maybe catch a couple of words here and there but that's about it. I hate the fast talkers, fast walkers, loud voices and bright lights. Give me long, slow,quiet anything in the dark and I'm good...anything. On the flip side I love flipping through the channels on the T.V. and checking out blogs while doing it.

Once again all I really wanted to say in this post was a thank you to earth monkey for helping me to turn something that was bothersome into a positive thing, but if I can get you to come in, sit down, have a drink and relax, than cheers to that.

Know and don't care

When I moved out here to Chicago the most difficult part of the whole process was leaving behind my three little nephews and adorable little niece. They literally hung on to my clothes and wouldn't let go when it was time for the actual goodbye. It was hard for them to understand. All they heard was that I wanted to leave home- and leave their little lives. That was only half true. I did want to leave home and needed to move away from my family so I could finally grow up and live my own life, but there was no way I wanted to abandon them-no way. How in the hell are you supposed to explaine that to kids? They were only 1,3,4 and 7 yrs old. I'm not sure what was going through their minds at the time, if anything, but I know that the three younger ones had no idea what or where "Micago" was (that's how the three year old said it) and they also had no clue that I was gay. I'd like to believe my whole family was aware on some level, but it wasn't spoken of until I came out here to live; where I was already at a safe enough distance to dodge the bullets, if any were to come. None came, but that's another story.

Years have gone by, the kids are now old enough to know exactly where Chicago is and they have been begging their parents year after year to come out and visit. Every one has been out here except the kids, my brother in law and actually- my brother. My sister has come a couple of times, my parents, C. Love's parents, C. Love's brother and even my sister in law. Now that I think about it it's kind of ironic that my brother hasn't been out. He had the hardest time out of anyone when I told him I was gay- he just cried a lot because he didn't want me to suffer. Anyway, we're not going that way now; my point is that next week my brother, his wife and my niece and nephew are coming into town. It's school vacation week and the 15 year old is on a quest to visit every single ballpark and Wrigley Field is next on the list. They will be here from Wednesday night-Saturday night.

Over the last couple of years C. Love and I have always assumed that the kids know about us just because kids are so smart and intuitive, but we weren't 100% sure. They always treat us like they know, but then again, they're just being normal. It's the adults that act strange when they know. So I was thinking the other day that they may actually not know and how strange it would be to have them here! I freaked out a little, mostly because worrying about people knowing or not knowing is something we haven't (thankfully) delt with in a very long time. And there's no way we want to go back there. I've wanted to tell the kids, but I figured it was their parents job and decision as to when they get told and how... and what...

To make a long post not any longer, I'll cut to the chase. I really need to make these shorter and I apologize for taking up your precious time. But I appreciate the patience if you stay. Anyway, I thought it would probably be a good idea if I send an e-mail their way to ask if the kids know. Straight out and away. I did and the reply back was "yes and they don't care." At first I felt a wave of relief and seconds later another wave of that's it?! that's all I get? I guess it doesn't matter, what matters is that they know and they say they don't care. Little kids are great, now if they could just stay that way...

A sight for sore eyes

I've never been a fan of group situations; whether the group is meeting for dinner, drinks or discussion-I don't want any part of it. There's too much room for awkward situations when a lot of people are around and I can't help from paying attention to every single one of them. I usually amuse myself, but that's it and the point of a group is to socialize. I do better socially one on one. If there's more than four I tend to just shut off mentally, plus I've this strange belief that groups aren't cool. Whatever.

Last night we had plans to meet up with some old acquaintances and new faces for dinner. Everyone present was part of that Chicago Rainbow group we belong to. C. Love and I have had many discussions about not only joining this group, but we have also had on- going heated discussions about actually "going out" with the group. I want friends to just magically appear, there's no way I want to make the effort to meet them, especially when it's a group of lesbians- How awkward. It's situations like this where my need to feel cool gets in the way of my having any opportunity to actually be cool. I usually act like a two year old and put up a fuss the whole week prior up to the moment of impact. It's rough for C. Love. This time was different, I was willing to go because of the convenience aspect(I'm a convenience junkie) and I've been telling myself to grow up: shut up and put up. Anyway, last night we met up with about 16 of them at a pretty nice restaurant in Evanston called Flat Top Grill.

We met our party in the back and made it through the first round of introductions. Within four minutes I had ordered and received my first beer-excellent. Within an hour after that two more had been consumed. Three beers in an hour? is that a lot? C. Love was keeping an eye on me but we have this unspoken rule that sometimes I just get to drink-with no questions asked. She's the more outgoing one in this relationship; I take the role as the quiet one on the side with the issues- fine with me. After the second beer C. Love asked " how are you doing?". I responded with, "well, it's not my ideal situation (more people approaching, questions being asked) but I'm better now. I do it all for you"(with a smirk). C. Love then makes a bowing motion and laughs. I know I can be a jerk. At this Flat Top place you have to get up and get your own food: you choose the rice or noodles, various vegetables, sauces, meat, etc, hand it to the stir fry guys and go back to your seat. They bring it to you. Again, not my ideal situation, too much work, too much walking around and too much elbow rubbing. Not convenient, but it was good. During dinner I was noticing two things: who was drinking alcohol, and who looked like someone I could be friends with. We were divided between two tables and thankfully our table was the drinking table! Yeh, I don't have to drink alone. C.Love had one, some good looking theatre chick across from us had three, a semi obnoxious sports fan (not that I have anything against sports at all) had I think one, maybe two but I doubt it, and a non descript, random, leather jacket wearer (that's all I noticed) had one. After one more beer to finish off the evening, we headed home.

All in all it was an enjoyable evening. Good food, some laughs. I felt very comfortable with this group, everyone was and always is very, very nice. Those lesbians... they have good hearts, well most of the ones we come in contact with in the Rainbow at least. It's never easy to be catergorized into a group like that, usually I feel confined and can't wait to get out. I wonder what the hell people are thinking about C. Love and I. It never looks like we fit in, or at least it feels that way. I'm always the drinker looking like she wants to kill someone for the first hour, after that I'm the funny cool one making everyone feel comfortable. I have no idea what people think, and maybe I shouldn't.

My point to this post has to do with you guys out there. I'm so used to seeing people first and getting to know them second. With this blogging thing it's the other way around and I'm starting to get a little nervous. It's driving me nuts not knowing what everyone out there looks like, but in a way I never want to know. It's funny how we (I) form opinions about people from what they say, the words they use, and the way they say a certain something, or their description of a situation. I try to imagine what everyone out there looks like: tall, short, young, old, wide, narrow, blond, brunette, red head, in shape, femme, butch- a little of both, stylish, old school, tough, soft, as cool looking as they sound or as smart looking as they sound or as tough looking as they sound, as nice as they sound or as cold hearted as they sound. And when I only see someone at a bar, at dinner, out and about, I try to imagine what they would be like at home, in a stressful situation, whether they have a good soul or a cold heart, if they are actually as sexy in bed as they may seem, if they like it bright or dull, slow or fast... anything and everything goes through my head.

With you guys, all I want to know now is... someday? Who knows. It kind of freaks me out.