"can i help you, sir?"

I haven’t had all the time that I want to write lately. I’m under tremendous stress at work in a job I hate, so when I’m not at work or job hunting (shh), I’m trying to just relax. My personal life is also crazy for other reasons too, not the least of which was a car accident the other day in which some unfortunate soul decided to just ram her car into mine on the freeway.

But! There have been good things, too.

Quality time in the hammock

I saw Jonatha Brooke in concert again!

Want to be an OG on July 4th? Wear a glow necklace and drink apricot hefeweizen. FROM THE BOTTLE.

I saw Brandi Carlile in concert again, too.

I cuddled with a magnum of cava while my friend ... well, anyway.

I’ve had good times with great company this summer, including two amazing concerts, and more fun on the way. Here’s to more fun on the horizon – I need it to retain my sanity! And if you have the chance to see either Jonatha Brooke OR Brandi Carlile this summer, you should certainly do so. Both are amazing artists who make incredible music.

Oh, and the title of this post is from “Of Graves” by another favorite singer, Alexa Wilkinson:

Dear Dad,

I know, I know. I wrote a nice post about Mom for Mother’s Day, explaining the things I love about her in spite of our misunderstandings. But I’m not there with you, at least not yet, so you get a letter.

You see, Mom is a little different. She and I certainly don’t see eye to eye on matters, especially religion and my personal life, but I believe that she’s actually trying. She does ask me questions every once in a while, and I think most of her confusion comes from a generation gap and being raised in a religion that doesn’t look kindly upon differences. But if I look at it in its present form, I believe she is trying to make sense of something that makes no sense at all to her.

But Dad, you’ve taken a more active and almost combative role in separating from me in recent years. It’s hard to be around you because I don’t trust you. I really want to, but in my mind and heart are the things you’ve done in past years that have hurt. Just as hurtful is the fact that you’ve never talked about these things, never apologized, never tried to understand, even when I’ve brought them up to let you know how they made me feel.

Still fresh in my mind is that blank Q&A book that I sent you a few years ago for Father’s Day, do you remember? I’d found it at a bookstore, and it was full of short answer essay questions and fill-in-the-blanks about your life as a kid, a teenager and as an adult. I thought it would be a great way to get to know more about your life. But then you took every opportunity you had to discuss religion/my sins – even if it didn’t even answer the question. You then added your own essay at the end to tell me you’d tailored your answers to address my wicked and sinful lifestyle instead of just answering them. I couldn’t even look through the book, and it would be a few years until I could bring myself to throw it away.

You’ve told members of our family (and who knows who else) that my decisions and my life go against absolutely everything you’ve ever taught me. But then when I visit you, you tell me how much you love it, and that you want me to come by more often. But you can see why I don’t, right? The way you’ve acted feels two-faced to me, and that makes me sad. I know I didn’t end up the way you wanted me to (and sorry Dad, but I couldn’t be more THRILLED about that), but I’m still your kid, you know? We’re still family.

I’ve stopped hoping you’ll come around even just a little bit, and now I’m focusing on letting go, for my sake. I’ve been working on that for a while now. The thing that really hurts is that you were my hero. You were always the one who encouraged me to learn and grow and not fit into that role of the little girl, like Mom wanted. You taught me how to drive a stick, shoot a gun, and chop down a tree. You loved that I played sports, even when Mom didn’t, and told anyone who would listen about my latest highlight. I always felt closer to you than I did to Mom, so this is a bigger loss for me.

I want to stop taking all of this personally. I want to see you the same way I see Mom; maybe misguided, but honestly trying. But I can’t yet, not when nothing has changed and you still act the same. You’re 78 now, so I don’t really anticipate you changing anytime soon; I inherited that same stubborn streak from you that you inherited from your mom, so I get it.

I love you, Dad. It’s just going to take a little time before it doesn’t sting.

Love, G

I have been so neglectful of my blog lately. It’s not because I haven’t had anything to say; my time is just at a premium lately. Between work, family and life, I haven’t had much time to sit down and get my thoughts out of my head. It’s not that I think anyone who reads this blog is dying to read them, but if I go too long without writing, all of the other trains of thought in my head start getting muddled. So here’s to keeping all those trains on their tracks.

***

I went shopping last night. Well, I actually ended buying something that wasn’t at all what I’d gone looking for – isn’t that always the way? I’ll write more about the whole thing later, but to my fellow butches and masculine-identifying friends: don’t shop in places where they don’t take care of you. Spend your hard-earned money where employees will respect you and treat you well. My experience was a good one, and it just reminded me of why I shouldn’t put up with anything less than that. Plus I got the kickass shorts I’d been holding out for, so there’s that.

***

It’s the weekend. Well, it is for me. I have tomorrow off, so it’s four days of playing/chilling/enjoying ahead for me. I have some pretty kickass plans, which include a mini-road trip. If you don’t like road trips, I’m not sure we can be friends. I can barely drag my ass out of bed to get to the office, but if I am leaving for a road trip? I’m UP and ready to go. It will be 95 and gorgeous, and seriously – the sun can’t get here soon enough. After the snowstorm last week, I’m even more antsy for the summer to arrive. But this weekend will be filled with sunshine, friends, laughs, pictures, and smiles. All of those things add up to a good time. Work is kind of kicking my ass lately, but I’m feeling more like myself than I have in a long while.

***

My long search for a waffle iron finally ended recently. Okay, the search wasn’t that long – they’re not that hard to find. I just finally got around to doing it. I think I’ve had Belgian waffles four times in the past two weeks. Ridicule me if you like, but those tiny buckets of syrupy goodness are little squares of heaven.

***

Have a great weekend, and don’t forget to take a moment on Monday to be mindful of the men and women who have died for our country. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to mix a cocktail.

That title sounds like the start of a therapy session, doesn’t it.

I wasn’t going to write anything in particular for Mother’s Day this year. I mean, I wrote about it last year, which kind of helped with reflecting on how my relationship has changed with my mom over the past 365 days or so. But it’s still frustrating. It wasn’t that long ago that she asked me, despite my coming out 11 years ago, if I’d change my mind about being gay if I met Mr. Right.

I spent several hours with her yesterday, since today she was going to my sister’s house for dinner. I took her some calla lilies and a hanging flower basket for her garden, then took her out to lunch. We went on a scavenger hunt for a waffle iron, and she helped me find one. I got her some Ben & Jerry’s, since she told me a few weeks ago that she’d never tried it. I helped her set up a Gmail account and showed her how to organize her photos on her laptop. We talked about her recent health issues, about the funny things my dad does, about my siblings … but at no point in that five hours did she ask me one thing about my life. Not about work, about friends, and of course not about anything, you know, gay. It’s sad, because I feel like she only gets a percentage of me. And who knows, maybe that’s what she wants – the percentage that is easy to handle.

***

So today, I didn’t feel like I had a lot to say. But then I read my buddy Jude’s post about her mom, and it kind of got me thinking. Even though I haven’t had the best relationship with my mom, I know there are things I have learned from her. Continue reading

So I didn’t do a Swoon List on Friday, which wasn’t really a mistake. The reason I even started doing that was because I was in a funk. I’d lost my verve. I’m happy to say that I feel like the mojo has returned. Plus I kind of lost the joy of writing it. If something isn’t enjoyable to me, I’m not going to do it just to keep doing it. The Swoon List served it’s purpose, and it just might show up every now and then if I’m so inclined. happinessIn the meantime, I’m also kind of mulling over a  few ideas in my head about some projects, and at some point I hope to share them on the blog.

***
I’ve been in a mood lately to unencumber. Lighten my load. Streamline. I feel this way every spring, but it’s a little more intense this year. I crave simplicity and clarity, so this annual exercise is more of a relief than anything else. I have a stack of books to donate to Big Brothers & Big Sisters, as well as 3 trash bags full of clothes. I spent yesterday going through papers and making stacks to shred, file, or toss. I consolidated all of my Navy stuff (except uniforms) into one storage bin. I organized all my gadgets, with their myriads of cords, chargers, USB cables and installation CDs.

***
And Easter. I think I celebrated it by cleaning. Sometimes I like to cook up a nice dinner and all that, but this year I felt like skipping that and spending time on my projects. I’m one who likes to feel like I accomplished something at the end of the weekend, either some productive projects or some hard core relaxation. However, I spent most of the day thinking about things that have been on my mind lately that have made me happy (not unlike my reflections during another recent holiday). So.

Lightning. Waffles. New boxers. Cadbury Mini-Eggs. Big Love marathons. New (to me) books. Getting something personal in the mail from a REAL PERSON. Consideration of my next tattoo. The smell of rain. Hugs. The sun streaming through my sunroof on to my face. March Madness basketball. Chocolate chip cookies out of the oven. A new notebook. Delicious hand-cut soap. A pint of perfect microbrew beer on a sunny day. Lazy weekend mornings. Belly laughs from a baby. Playing fetch with a dog. The cool side of my pillow. Dreaming about a tropical vacation.

What’s making you happy lately?