happier ending

walking into work this morning, I saw a bright bit of color on the wet concrete in the parking lot. as I approached, I realized it was a monarch butterfly. or had been one. one wing was separated from the body, lying alone and proudly colorful. just half an inch to the write was the rest of it, crumpled body and vibrant flight apparatus. I just half-shrieked, half-shouted my alarm to my coworker lizzyboo. she looked down and yelled at me back.

tragic beauty shocking surprise unwelcome imagery.

that said, my mood and life are not currently reflected in that misplaced symbolism. I owe y'all an epilogue to my last post, which garnered so much love and support in comment and phone call form. first of all, everything worked out. a phone called from him to me was placed that afternoon, he reconsidered and wanted to come to the Poland reunion dinner.

why? I asked.
because it's the right thing to do. and I want to make you happy. and I had lunch and thought about it, he said.

it's amazing what a sandwich and time will do to put one's selfish conflict into perspective. but enough about him. what about you?

thanks for caring so much. thanks for understanding me and supporting my non-complementary choice of a boyfriend. thanks for not condemning but listening. he is very different than me. my expectations aren't wildly out there. there are many a reason I choose to stay here. last week was deep in a moment of reaction.

thanksgiving weekend proved to be a wonderfully balanced time off. there was well-behaved, nay, down-right chattiness on his own! during our nine hours of meal and strangers/new friends. there was a solo day of his photography whilst I sat on my ass knitting and watching Dogville (not the most uplifting movie, but what can we expect from the Lars?). there were visits to the SPCA and disagreements about our ideal dog. and I did a solo 8-mile run (no, I'm not Feminem). and in a dissonant echo of Rent's bisexual/AIDS/love triangle, we went and saw The Dying Gaul in which everyone fucks everyone else up the ass (in the derogatory sense). not a holiday recommendation, but some amazing acting. (just don't read a synopsis of it. go see it for the intimate character studies.)

so, here we are. almost a week later. ChrisO, I will call and hopefully come on Sunday. DogPound, you know we have a date on April 30th. jimmi, we'd be the best ftm's in the world. and we'd have our own band. DT, lunch this week?

10:02 a.m. 2005-11-29

no day but..

my four hours of sleep last night contribute to current state of perturbed. along with every single-dingle SF State freshman and the entire drama club of most of the Bay Area's high schools, I went to the midnight showing of RENT last night. (a fine movie, lots of crying, tweaked from the original, nice musical variations, but doesn't destroy the need or the immediacy of the theatre version.)

leaving the house this morning, it was decided that the manfriend would NOT be attending the dinner we have been planning for months with my fellow Poland visitors on the occasion of a visiting Canadian from said Poland trip. it's at his favorite restaurant. he's eaten with the group, sans Canadian, before. but when he asked/demanded, "I hope I get credit for this!" I released him from his duty.

hanging out with my friends or people who are very important to me who really want to get to know him shouldn't be viewed as a task. it's called being a supportive boyfriend.

this morning's passive-aggressive decision to attend swim practice, which I had to pull out of him after a period of silent treatment (real mature, Mr. 45 year-old) came after last night's stellar performance as anti-social flickr addict. back turned my movie-attending friend, silently sorting his photographs. like his does first thing in the morning. and when he gets home from work. or from a photo shoot.

after multiple chidings and requests to engage with the rest of us, thus ending all awkward silences making me feel unwelcome in my own home, he fell asleep on my lap because I was rubbing his head. since we had time to kill, aforementioned friend hopped online to check his email, then proceeded to share different grafitti and street art URLs that I should check out. manfriend poked his head up a few times, as well.

this morning, he had the gall to compare silently withdrawing into the clicking open and closed of windows to GT's sharing the knowledge and generating discussion. sorry, babe. no dice. your behavior was different. and besides, you had already fallen asleep.

and now, my company holiday party is in question. I want him to be there. I suspect I could be getting an award (not hoping, just a smidge of information upon which I'm making assumptions). but I don't want to attend with someone who's begging to leave, asking, "Won't you see them next week? What's the big deal?"

I'd rather take someone who loves me and wants to share in my life. not just attend as a requirement. I guess that's what friends are for.

back to RENT. it hurts a bit more because I was all weepy and sad during the movie, as I recognized issues I haven't dealt with and manfriend's serostatus and eventual future.

why do I expect more from him?

10:02 a.m. 2005-11-23

deee-licious

last night's dinner was a pre-teen's dream of adult freedom. JR (a friend since I was 16) and I induldged on a menu of appetizers and a side.

starters, they were not. they were the whole thing.

first came the baked brie with roasted garlic. I have only made roased garlic on one or two occasions in my own home. why not more? cut, drizzle and bake. can mushy flavor explosions be any better? sure, they can. add warm gooey brie.

the fried calimari came next. these are fried hunks of tender calimari steaks. not the chewy rings and tenticles one often expects. lots of green onion, soy sause and bits of jalapeno. spongy, oily pillows of flavor.

the side of spinach (maybe not every pre-teen dream, but certainly my own) was the one nod to nutrient-dense and fiber-full eating. just a ceral bowl, in a puddle of oily or buttery broth.

lastly, a big, ol' pile of french fries. as JR pointed out, they're the slender ones that warrant the name frites. by some trans-substanstative or physical osmosis mystery, I trust that these skinny sticks will similarly make me longer and leaner.

catching up with an old friend is good to do. no matter how great the food is. I don't make enough time to see the people I care about in my life. every few months in my pattern. knitting and sleeping and working and boyfriend and making dinner at home be damned.

in this upcoming last month of the year, I'm doing my darned-est to see my SF peeps. I miss you.

5:42 p.m. 2005-11-22

thanks a lot

Dogpound, I blame you.

what with your NYC marathon running and your bi-coastal lifestyle... one little comment yesterday and a little seed was planted. I was planning on eventually returning to running ('cause I want love it, not because I'm athlet-oerxic) with a big homosexual marathon (after a big homosexual synchronized swimming meet) in Montreal.

that would be in August, up in Canardia. leaving me plenty of time to procrastinate and not hop on a treadmill and strap on my training bra/hr montitor. but now you have me thinking about Big Sur. you know that's the only race I've ever signed up for and not gone to? I don't count it as a DNF, as much as a DNS, not to mention two months of DNTraining.

so, yeah, unfinished business. and it's in my backyard. and it's a destination race I've been meaning to do. and, since I've never seen anything besides Wildflower triathlon or wherever the staff vans drove on the AIDS Ride, I'm in. it's going to be a goal to get some running structure back into my life. it won't be a PR. no time goal. just show up trained and don't blow up. and look at the pretties. like you need breath-taking views during a marathon... I need my breath!

I just did 40 minutes on the treadmill out back, here at the office. 6.2 speed (that's 9:36/mile?), incline 1, for 40 minutes. 4.1 miles later, I feel good. there's something about the pounding on my feet that helps me get out of my head and into my body. like a reverse of the yoga lifeforce amrita that drips as we age (hence the youth-inducing recommendations for inversions), the more I use my body, the more I am inside myself.

no sarcasm in the title of this entry. thank you. I hope to run again this week. I'm packing my shoes and may run in NYC this weekend!

West River Drive or Central Park?

10:50 a.m. 2005-11-08

batboy

in a fit of relationship maturity and independence, the manfriend and I chose to do separate activities on Saturday night. he continued his love affair with his camera (don't tell him I sent you). I had a quickie with live musical theatre. better yet, community theatre.

BatBoy: The Musical was playing at the Victoria in the Mission. everything thing I've seen at this venue has been stellar: mean-spirited comedian , a short mockumentary about the life of Kiki and Herb (during 1997's LGBT film festival, and a local production of Hedwig. the spontaneous decision was forced by the fact it was closing on Sunday after a short two-week run. that was yesterday.

I'd never seen the show. based on the World Wide Weekly News' infamous cover shot, I've been kicking myself for never seeing it in NYC back in 2001. when I've sported a shaved head, people have noticed my likeness to the title character (I miss KvO). not particularly deep, the show is a bunch of fun. it could have used more blood, but this was a small production. Songs are in the Rocky Horror Show musical genre. misunderstood outsider, transformation through education and forbidden love. sprinkle in simple characterizations of West Virginia miners-turned-cattle ranchers, a community revival, and a mad scientist.

rumor has it they are going to develop a movie of the show, headed by John Landis. gosh, I miss theatre. Unprompted, M suggested that I get involve with the local scene, as we're fast-approaching my three-year boredom point (remember triathlon? ultrarunning? high school theatre? art? and ballet?). I don't see myself auditioning anytime soon.

I'll do my part as an audience member.

11:23 a.m. 2005-11-07

started

came in late today, in order to have a productive morning. productive for work? nah. National Novel Writing Month.

yup, it started yesterday. and so did I, with puttering, stop-start, choppy thousand-odd words. I have no idea what I'm writing about and I went to bed frustrated at midnight.

not a great night of sleep, could be NaNo or work stress. I had planned on working for a few hours this morning on peer reviews, but the laptop beckoned. I wanted to feel good about my writing.

so I wrote. just filler, but it's fleshing out whatever scene-setting this first chapter is establishing. who cares if it's trite or uninspired or cliched. I got another 565 words in and now I'm current (actually, a few words over) with my daily goal of 1667 words.

only 1664 more words for today.

11:04 a.m. 2005-11-02

still here

it's now the time when the whistle (or pterodactyl, if this were The Flintstones) should blow and I hop into my car and go home.

a tough day here at the marketing quarry. many rocks (aka, tasks) were broken down. bills were submitted (for October... whoops!), a weekly meeting with a higher-up was prepared for and much accomplished, and a few gumboalls were chewed (sadly, there aren't many remenants of Halloween candy... I miss you, Smarties!).

fast-forward 43 minutes. I just got an extension on my peer reviews, which were also due today. I work too hard to feel so behind. I gots to get started on GTD.

and writing that novel.

5:02 p.m. 2005-11-01

past - future