It doesn't seem like I'm keeping up my part of the community, when I read Linda and Heather and Nia and Hanne and Lisa and Panther and Deb and so many others are doing close to daily posts. Lately I've been limping along on about weeklies lately. I'm gonna indulge myself in a small bit of regret, but from the years I know that it changes up and down. Right now, this is how I fit it in. When I do more, I do more, and life will keep moving along either way.


Portland was a great road trip a week ago. Kevin and I car pooled in my new little Honda [of which I'm becoming quite fond]. I can't say enough about how great it was to spend the hours together driving down and back. He's such a great guy, important to me, and it was a wonderful luxury. In Portland Bridgett was hosting the BodyBound event, and also hosted Kev, myself, DragonLady and Trinity at her apartment. She is a great friend, a marvelous host, and is doing very good things for the community as a whole with events such as this. After way too much fun that evening with rope and saran wrap and suchlike, we hit an all night diner that was a classic - hookers and pimps and gangs and we looked like the closest things to 'civilians' in there. Grease, bad coffee, and good time. On that Sunday morning we made a pilgrimage to Powell Books. A city block, three stories tall, and stuff for everyone. Requires a map to get around! Across the street from there is a little cubbyhole of a storefront that is just as much a treasure - counter°media. Woohoo... a wide range of smut, with a lot of unique and exotic stuff. I held myself to only one book at counter°media, but I'll sure be back.

Monday evening I raced down from work to pick up Omaha for a pleasant evening at Tubs. We shared a bit of bubbly fun, and made plans for this coming week, where I'm going to baby-sit again for their daughter as she takes her hubby Elf out for his birthday.


Life hasn't been 100% peachy. Had a person over to the house Wednesday evening who has an incredible load of baggage. Unfortunately, and for absolutely no reason at all, they said, they had decided to take their troubles out on me. [Said it wasn't anything I did, it was just some demon impulse from their baggage and I guess I matched the demon's image]. Dangled appealing bait and turned me into a pop-up target. Several times over the past six months this person had set me up to expect mutual pleasure and then fairly cruelly ripped open my exposed emotional underbelly. A couple of months to let me rebuild trust and then again, three times total. My own damn fault for extending the trust again after the first time. Thing is, I've been recovering from the damage that was done to my heart last fall this whole time, and most everything from that circled around the word rejection. I was trying to heal from it, took risks to overcome it, and so have been just a sitting target for this sort of cruelty. Things came to a head recently, this person was caught out in flat out lies and manipulations of both myself and a trusted friend of mine of many years duration. Wednesday I allowed the person to come over to apologize and attempt to explain themselves. I started the evening in a cold burning anger, stayed there most of the time, and ended up giving a counselor's name and phone number. And I still have my back to the wall and eyes wide open.

No name, gender, age, no nothing. I've erased nasty barbs about this person from earlier journal drafts half a dozen times without publishing them, and this is my one venting. I learned a bunch of painful lessons last fall, and one is that if I don't say something, if I just try to be the nice guy and don't vent, it festers inside me, and I end up imploding.

Nuff said.


And no, I'm not going to end this entry with that. My life is such that far and away the majority of it matches my Life Is Good mantra, and even granting the above bullshit, that still holds true.

Let's get silly for a moment. This week I've picked up my first Utilikilt. I've started wearing it damn near every moment I'm not at work [the boss did mention it would probably be best if I didn't wear it there]. Already my friends are getting tired of my bubbling over about it, my buying little doodads for it [a new belt knife, high socks, so on], and I guess I'd better say a word about my long fascination with kilts.

I first read of kilts as a normal and modern part of life in Heinlein's Methuselah's Children, in the late 1950s. It just made sense. With my Scot-Irish family roots stretching back to the Forbes Clan, I've long wanted a tartan in the classic tradition but they cost an arm and a leg. I think the first time I tried to make myself a homemade pseudo-tartan was at the second Palo Alto Free Be-In in about 1968, where I was watching Stevie Winwood up on stage while I was wearing a ripped up bed sheet wrapped around my waist. It wasn't much, but it was a gesture. Every time I've read of Lazarus Long over the years I've again been wistful about the kilts that just seem so comfortable and common sense.

Now I've got my first, in olive drab twill, and I hope to add a black, a khaki, and a denim to the collection as I'm able to. Only had to wait for 40-some years for the first one. I won't wait that long for the next.


So, what else has been going on.

Catsy and his primary partner Thea were over Saturday on family business, and a nice meal. Sure, we have the same rough spots any parent and child do. It is nice, though, to have the healthy sort of open relationship where we can talk over the sorts of things that other folks would find outrageous. Like when I asked Thea if she'd found a girl friend yet since moving to Seattle. Like over dinner yesterday we laughed our heads off at some of the antics of the past - the time years ago where he was intimate with an older woman, one with whom I'd been flirting with online. The time when he was in high school and I came home and found that he'd left a wet spot in my bed from an earlier dalliance. And remembering the time a fellow from 28 Barbary Lane - a gay/bi/lesbian BBS from the old days - came over to take him out [shortly before Catsy outed himself to me as bi]. Say what you will - I'm damn proud of him, and proud of the openness we have. Fuck the American Family Association - my family is damned healthy.

And the Mariners clobbered the Yankees 3 out of 3 in Yankee Stadium. Lisa, we bet on the wrong series. I've got a couple pounds of Tullys' Baseball Blend on the way to you as soon as I can get to the post office. We'll bet again this season, without doubt.

Coming up soon - a quiz for my fellow cinephiles. Stay tuned.

And repeat after me, life is good.

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