Writing From The Gut

This may read odd, but that's never stopped me before.

Last night, the voices in my head kept me awake.

Now, when I write "voices in my head", I don't mean that I've literally heard or imagine to hear real voices. I'll admit that I'm sometimes nuts but geez, I'm not crazy. I mean the various lists ... with titles like "to do" and "should do" and "will do" and "yeah, we'll see if I do" and "bwahahaha - fat chance that I'll do" and "I'm just clearly nevvvvver gonna do".

I started mentally thumbing through these lists early in the evening and, sensing that I'd be thinking myself sleepless, I loaded a nameless romantic comedy DVD on the player (starring any combo of Julia Roberts, Hugh Grant, Meg Ryan, Richard Gere, Sandra Bullock, and/or Tom Hanks) and tried my best to put down the imaginary pencil that was editing, erasing, adding, and underlining various entries I had.

But there's always one, isn't there?

There was one entry that just wouldn't be adjusted, moved, or otherwise touched. "You've been pretty good about writing, both in your 'blob'" (which is how I refer to this ... this ... uhhhh well whatever THIS is) "and in your personal journal. You probably owe it to yourself to try to do a wrap up sort of thing in both, to tie up the year."

"Sure," I mused with me. "Sure, I can scribble out a few funny little paragraphs that encapsulate the past 365 days. No sweat - because heck it's not like anything life-changing happened to me in 2009. It's not like I continued to fight through hell, quite literally, for my health. It's not like I changed careers into an as-yet undefined position in an as-yet unknown corporation. It's not like I voluntarily moved my entire existence to totally unfamiliar territory. It's not like, after 41 years of chancing my heart with various undeserving cheaters, liars, and slime balls, it's not like I finally found the man who is the love of my life and who will be, if I indeed AM the luckiest son of a bitch on this planet, the last person I see for the rest of my nights and the first I see for the rest of my mornings. I can write that all out in something short and meaningful - no problem. How about 'Here's to 2010 - change, schmange ... give me your best shot!'"

So it's safe to say that (1) I got pretty much NO sleep last night and (b) I am, thus far, undecided on the whole "2009 wrap up" post here. Having just glanced at last years Dec 31 entry, I see I offered a toast, in which I wished that 2009 have characteristics typically associated with a raspberry shortbread tart. I dunno if I should refer to a cookbook for inspiration for a potential blob post, as it seems to me that could possibly invite flavors like "bitter" and "spicy" ... and those may be undesired.

On the other hand, as it turns out, I really, really, really enjoyed the raspberry shortbread tart.

How Santa Will Know Where I Am

Maybe he'll recognize that I've moved homes because of the new decorations and the phrases written on them, placed above ornaments I've had for a few years.








Maybe he'll remember my ol' pal, Woody, who has been with me for more than three decades.






Or my sleeping mouse, dreaming of Santa's visit ...






Or my chorus mouse angel, waiting to play her horn ...





Damn. I wish I could be sure, 'tho.










If only there were SOME way I could make sure Santa would know where I was ...

A Visit By St. Nick

The Awesome Boyfriend came over last night and we were in the process of getting dinner together when the sirens began. They were loud - and sounded close. My first thought was what I typically think when I hear sirens - "awwwww damn. Someone's day just got crappy." The Awesome Boyfriend waited for a second, and then bolted to the front door, saying "Come over here, Hunny - it's Santa!"

I can't remember Santa ever visiting my sister and I at home when we were growing up, 'tho there's a photo of this happening once. I've been told that I was in awe of our great luck, to have such a visit (and to have him deliver, in person, my most-desired gift ... a box turtle!) right up until my sister turned to my parents and asked "Why is Mr. Gundy dressed as Santa Claus?"

In my new home town, however, it seems it is a tradition for Santa to be escorted by Firefighters around different neighborhoods in the evenings as Christmas approaches. Santa sits on the back of a long firetruck decorated with lights as the sirens wail, and he waves to the homes he'll visit in a week or so.

We caught the last of the processional as it passed directly in front of my home, and walked back to the kitchen to finish arranging our plates. The sirens were still very near by and then, as I looked out the kitchen window, I saw the flashing emergency lights in the apartment complex behind my backyard. I raised the shade as high as it would go while The Awesome Boyfriend turned out the kitchen lights and stood directly behind me, holding me ... and we stood, in silence, while Santa was driven by as he greeted children and adults, who had gathered to watch and wave back.

After dinner, we adjusted the lights I'd placed earlier, and started decorating, being guided by the lights from the tree. We'll probably be decorating for the next few days, in fits and spurts, until we're both satisfied with our work. On our tree. Our first Christmas Tree.

See? Once again, Santa already delivered what I wanted the most.

A Letter To Santa

Dear St. Nick,

I wanted to thank you for looking out for me this past year. I have to believe that the events that largely made my 2009 was pretty much your doing.

I have to admit that I took some of your gifts for granted ... like the job, for instance. I don't know that I required employment but I appreciated it - just - for all the wrong reasons. I liked working in a building I was comfortable in and with friends I respected and knew well. I just wasn't all that inspired by the work itself and ... yes, it showed in my results, I know. I hope you're not too sore with my being relieved when my contract was done away with. Anyway, I wanted you to know that I don't regret those months. in fact, I really needed them - not financially but mentally.

The gift that I did NOT take for granted was the talented and dedicated group of medical types who helped in my health battle. Wow - ya' just did such a superb job in hand-selecting that team. Having such great brains and hearts steering my recovery took SUCH a weight from my shoulders. (And we both know that I don't share feelings of fright easily when it comes to personal matters but I gotta say - I was really shaken to my core by all that ... stuff. That you made sure to have such medical bad-asses looking over my shoulder to give me medical guidance was ... beyond humbling.)

And, speaking of great match-ups ... geez - where do I begin to thank you for the love, support, humor, patience, smarts, kind-heartedness, level-headedness, tolerance, warmth, strength and just general overall wonderfulness that IS the Awesome Boyfriend??? I mean - that you had the foresight to bring a friend deeper into my life when I didn't even know I needed one at all ... and to have him be such an amazing listener and to provide such great insight and be so calming and loving ... I just don't even know where to start. I love that you gave us - or me, at least - a foundation of first impressions to work from and to have me be just so very wrong about it. Ya' just cleared the slate right off the bat and made me start all over again and - *sigh* - it was just so inspired on your part, yanno? And sure, you've put a few things in our path that tested who we are as a couple but you made sure the hurdles were equally matched and didn't give us anything we wouldn't be able to work through, as long as we worked together. In fact, as you know, we've both wondered aloud what we could possibly have our first argument about. After all, it's been more than a year now and we've still not shared a harsh word. (We've even tested it - I made a crack about how whiny men can be and he shared the "Mad Cow" joke with me this weekend and all we could do was laugh! )

Santa, to top it off, as it turns out you provided me with the family that I've needed all along. Sure, there have been rough periods and we've gone our own ways at times but I wouldn't have been able to do the things I've done if not for my folks. And then - the additional family that you've brought into my life - father-figures and extended parent-types that have known me forever and co-workers that think of me as part of their clan. Really ... to be so significantly blessed is just mind-boggling.

So I guess this would be the part of the letter where I ask for stuff. And I realize that I'm not giving you a whole lot of notice, what with Christmas Eve being 10 days away. But, the thing is, what I need the most? Yeah, I already have it. I have support. I have health. I have passion. I have humor. I have friendships. I have laughter. I have safety. I have shelter. I have warmth. I have depth of feeling. I have memories. I have goals. I have plans. I have compassion. I have strength. I have love. The ONLY thing I'd ask of you is to pay attention to the needs and desires of those closest to me. I do what I can to provide what is needed, but I'd never refuse your help.

In short, Santa, thank you for all that you've done already. Don't worry about bringing anything for me with you when you stop by next week - just enjoy the cookies and hot chocolate, and give the reindeer time to graze and catch their breath for the rest of their journey.

A very grateful,

Jules



PS - I believe ... more now than ever.

In Which My Bathroom And I Spend Some Alone Time

My tolerance-level for small piles of papers and what-all is pretty high. I tend to file and toss in a frenzy about twice a month or less, depending on the amount of things to be filed ... or tossed. So I guess I didn't really notice the kitchen table had become a ... well ... not a mess really but yeah, kinda.

And sure - I got so frustrated with the doorknob replacement in the bathroom that I just stalled out and haven't bothered to do anything on it in a few weeks. And it's also true that I made a promise to myself to organize my two closets into "wear around the house" and "stash for warmer weather" boxes to be pulled out next year. This is ALL true.

But I found myself somewhat ... irked ... when these various projects were noticed by The Awesome Boyfriend. And let me be VERY clear - it was a MINOR mention - like "hey, so this isn't how this is always gonna look, right?" sort of thing. It was NOT critical at all. It was meant to be just a very gentle nudge to me - a reminder that I shouldn't lose my steam just yet.

(Have I qualified this enough yet?)

And, an hour or so later that evening, I'd already finished my closets. I was enjoying a small bit of smug satisfaction ... was envisioning a smattering of a smug "I told you so" moment the next day when The Awesome Boyfriend visited and, high on my success, I decided to chose one more "to do" before calling it a night. I chose the bathroom doorknob.

Here's the thing: Doorknobs, even non-locking ones, are wider in 2009 than the ones I am trying to replace. So it wasn't just "unlatch this one, slap a new one in". It was "redrill the hole, line up the new striker plate, widen the slip-slot for the inner workings of the latch, plug the old screw holes, redrill new holes, check to be sure the striker plate isn't set too far back. Plug the old striker plate holes and redrill new holes when it turns out the striker plate WOULD be too far back."

I will admit that I'm not gonna be showing up on any home repair reality shows soon. I will also admit that I'm handy enough around the home that I knew if I just took my time and really understood what I was doing that I'd get this done. I am walking proof that a little knowledge in something is a dangerous thing, but I figured that once I did one replacement, the rest would be a little easier. I started with the least necessary doorknob and decided that the last one I'd replace would be the front door. (After all, using a towel stuffed into the hole where the lock WOULD be probably wouldn't be a good idea for a front door, but it's worked just fine for the bathroom.)

So I grabbed my chisel and revisited the situation as I'd left it. I had already patched the areas I'd need solid for the new holes, so I just needed to place the striker plate in the right spot, close the door to see if the location was correct, slap in the inner workings, and ... basically ... pat myself on the back.

Imagine my surprise when things lined up on the very first try!! That satisfying "click" that translated as success. "Pish, that was just too damn easy! Time to insert the knobs on both sides and tighten things up", my smug self thought. I slipped my index finger and thumb around the top of the inner workings, slipped it back, and opened the door with no issue whatsoever.

(Those of you who read carefully may note that the "click" also translated into the door closing with my having NO means of opening the latch, except by using my fingers. I don't know why this didn't occur to me, but somehow it just didn't.)

The ONLY modification I noticed was that the striker plate could be inset just a tiny bit more. So I removed it and decided to leave the last bit of woodwork for the morning. I slept soundly, imagining NOT making a big deal about having a working doorknob when The Awesome Boyfriend visited the next day.

First thing in the morning, I popped outta bed, got dressed, grabbed my chisel and headed to the bathroom. I marked the striker with lipstick (a trick I picked up in Biloxi) and it indicated the areas I needed to remove by marking them red. As I was refining the setback space for the striker plate, my brain commented that it'd be funny if I did such a good job that I wouldn't be able to open the door once I tested it. My brain also flashed on "maybe you should get your phone, just in case" but ... my only excuse is that I hadn't yet had breakfast. I wasn't operating correctly or something.

"Click" went the inner workings, once again telling me I'd done a good job. "Time to put the striker plate back on", said my brain. "No problem", said my hands as I reached for the same sweet spot on the inner workings that I'd used just a few short hours before. And, after I fumbled for a few minutes, my hands said "well - ok - maybe a small problem".

I looked at the window in the bathroom. It's high up. And the ground outside is kinda far below - I'd likely at least twist my ankle. Plus, it's VERY small. So I wouldn't even get out of it in the first place. I glanced back at the door and loudly - with great satisfaction - I shouted an obscenity that would translate as "rooster slurper" on a family-friendly blog.

I had only my chisel to work with. The first thing I did was close the heater vent. It was likely that I'd have no problem keeping warm in such a space - I was already breaking into a sweat. I tried - with no success - to find the magic latch release with the chisel. I banged on it using the handle. I pounded on the door in frustration. I had no watch, no cell phone, and knew The Awesome Boyfriend wouldn't have reason to stop in before he'd leave for work (plus he'd likely already left anyway). And even if he DID somehow stop in, I'd have no way to walk him through what needed to be installed. (From the outside, the knob doesn't really control much. Especially if the inner workings were bent -which I'd very successfully done as I bashed on them in my anger.) I was, officially, locked inside of my bathroom.

The UPS guy rang the back doorbell. I flashed to a scene from Friends in which Phoebe, Ross and Carol, his ex-wife are all locked in a facilities closet in a hospital. Phoebe has her guitar with her and begins to sing "they found their bodies the very next day, they found their bodies the very ...".

"Well", I thought, "at least if I needed to take a nap, I could line the bathtub with towels and hey - if I needed to use the facilities or wanted to take a shower or a verrrrrrrry long bath, I'd be all set." I imagined telling the story to The Awesome Boyfriend and wondered if it'd be something I'd share with him from behind a door or face-to-face.

Two hours later ...

After I'd removed the pins in the upper and lower hinges (realizing that this would do me no good, as it didn't shrink the space between the door and the striker plate but it made me feel better to be doing SOMETHING), I'd chiseled enough away from the striker plate as to place the chisel in a manner that allowed me to withdraw the latch. The door swung open (and, of course, the top hinge gave way, since it wasn't connected any more) and my first reaction was to ... use the bathroom.

*****************

Today I will clean off the kitchen table.

There is no door between the kitchen and the living room.

There is a swinging door between the kitchen and the hallway to the back door so, because of that, I may keep my chisel and cell phone nearby ... yanno, just in case.

The Tuesday Update ...

in no particular order ...

This is my first holiday season not spent in the shade of the family tree. I thought this would be ... more emotional? ... but am happy to report that overall it's been alright.

Speaking of family, the news on my cousin Lisa (who was fighting things at the same time as her mom was, and as I was) is ... mixed. She's spent the last month and a half in ICU, having contacted pneumonia while her immune system was compromised. She's finally been moved from ICU into a private room but is still unable to breathe unassisted and is being kept in a pretty heavy drug-induced state. The wound from her procedure has finally showed signs of closing (ten months later) and the doctors believe she'll be in the hospital for a few more months in various stages of care. They won't discuss any real plans until she can breathe on her own. I feel ... guilt? I had it so easy and yet I still found reason to complain.

I spent close to two hours locked inside my own bathroom yesterday morning. I was all prepared to write about THAT today but the mood just doesn't seem right. It's a funny story that I'll share at some point and, while I come off looking like a complete and total moron in it, it's pretty typical for how I envision myself at times - filled with the best intentions and getting in my own way of success.

I won't admit this out loud (so don't ask) but the shakes I've been experiencing in my right arm are worrying me more than I show. And I know I should get a doctor's opinion but ... well ... actually, that should read "I know I should get a doctor's opinion" and then end with just ".". So I'll do that instead.

The reason that this isn't a "I spent 2 hours locked in my own bathroom and lived to write about it" post is from being so happy at The Awesome Boyfriend's news yesterday. Everything that seemed wrong or unfair or just plain sucky just ... went away.

I managed to make three sweet potato pies yesterday, for the first time in my life. I was overall pretty happy with the results. (I've also never microwaved a potato (sweet or otherwise). I SHOULD have been doing lots of other things besides baking (Christmas Cards come immediately to mind) but ... making pies worked. And hey - it heated up the house a little, too.

A public note to the woman talking WAYYYY too loud in the coffee shop earlier today: Thank you for feeling so open to sharing your sexual history to the entire population enjoying their morning java. You're right ... there IS a difference between him wanting you and needing you and you shouldn't just be a default choice for him between sleeping alone and sleeping with someone. One minor little comment though, if I may ... perhaps this would have been a better discussion to have with your friend over coffee in a private location. Or, here's a wild thought ... maybe you should be talking to the guy in question. In either event, I'm pretty sure the man who left with his grandson as you were getting more and more graphic now gets to answer questions that he may not be fully prepared to respond to.

And, finally, let me just add this



29 years and this loss is still felt globally.

It's Right There In Black And White

Post-move, the frenzy of "feathering the nest" has, for the most part, slowed way down. We've been looking for an entertainment stand (not one of those "centers" that takes over a room - just a long, fairly low-profile bench-style wooden cabinet) which will hold the TV (which we also haven't yet purchased) in the living room and a few lamps or end tables, and then we'll turn our attention to the spare bedroom/office (which lacks a bed and a workspace currently) but that's really about it.

One Christmas when I was a young kid, I watched with envy as my sister opened her very own TV, which she'd be placing in her bedroom and would begin to lord it over me. It wasn't so much that I wanted a TV in my bedroom, but more about her having one and my not.

As a teen, I turned my attention more towards music, my friends, boys, my pet birds, and shopping (not necessarily in that order) and it never entered my head to ask for a TV for my bedroom. I never missed it and it never occurred to me that I didn't have one.

In the various studios and apartments that I've lived in since then, the TV always was placed in the living room. If there was anything in the bedroom that was plugged in, it was either a clock radio, a stereo or a reading lamp.

(I'm leading up to something here, I promise.)

Yesterday, shortly after 11am, a 42-inch TV was delivered to my door, and was installed in the master bedroom. As it was sitting on a corner-shaped stand, it didn't take up nearly as much room as I was originally fearing it would. I decided to connect the BluRay/DVD player to it and get it in working order so that, when the awesome boyfriend visited later in the day, he'd be pleased with the newest item in the home.

I read through the "easy set up guide" (don't even get me started on THAT) and followed the suggested connections to the letter, put batteries in both remote controls and got things up and running (after a few false starts). After programming the time and date on the TV, I fired up the BluRay/DVD. (It's a very nice machine ... literally. It started with a message to me ... "Welcome" and then "please wait")

I loaded the only BluRay I had at my disposal - the very classic holiday movie "It's a Wonderful Life" - and lo and behold, after a few more whirrs and clicks, there was Frank Capra's quaint title screen. Crisp. Sharp. Clear ... and with sound, even. I was thrilled and decided to test my success with a DVD, just to be sure that it wasn't a fluke. I grabbed a DVD that the awesome boyfriend had loaned to me, and ejected the BluRay disc. The DVD loaded and ...

it was crisp. Sharp. Clear and with sound. But ... it was in black and white. And I moved connections around but couldn't get it to show in anything BUT black and white. I read the setup guide suggestions again. I turned things off. I rotated plugs. I stared at the diagram. I stared at the back of the TV. I stared at the back of the BluRay/DVD player. I turned things back on again and in a different order. Black and white. Drat - why had the BluRay worked so well but the DVD wouldn't cooperate?

And it was that moment when I realized that my first success? Yeah, I had loaded a black and white movie.
****************************************
(It should be noted that the awesome boyfriend fixed this issue in the first 5 minutes of being home.)

Things That Make Me Laugh When I Read Them

SIDE EFFECTS
by Steve Martin (yes, THAT Steve Martin). Originally published in The New Yorker, April 13, 1998.

DOSAGE: Take two tablets every six hours for joint pain.

SIDE EFFECTS: This drug may cause joint pain, nausea, head-ache, or shortness of breath. You may also experience muscle aches, rapid heartbeat, and ringing in the ears. If you feel faint, call your doctor. Do not consume alcohol while taking this pill; likewise, avoid red meat, shellfish, and vegetables. O.K. foods: flounder. Under no circumstances eat yak.

Men can expect painful urination while sitting, especially if the penis is caught between the toilet seat and the bowl. Projectile vomiting is common in thirty per cent of users - sorry, fifty per cent. If you undergo disorienting nausea accompanied by migraine and raspy breathing, double the dosage. Leg cramps are to be expected; one knee-buckler per day is normal. Bowel movements may become frequent-in fact, every ten minutes. If bowel movements become greater than twelve per hour, consult your doctor, or any doctor, or just anyone who will speak to you.

You may find yourself becoming lost or vague; this would be a good time to write a screenplay. Do not pilot a plane, unless you are among the ten per cent of users who experience "spontaneous test-pilot knowledge". If your hair begins to smell like burning tires, move away from any buildings or populated areas, and apply tincture of iodine to the head until you no longer hear what could be taken for a "countdown". May cause stigmata in Mexicans.

If a fungus starts to grow between your eyebrows, call the Guinness Book of World Records. May induce a tendency to compulsively repeat the phrase "no can do". This drug may cause visions of the Virgin Mary to appear in treetops. If this happens, open a souvenir shop. There may be an overwhelming impulse to shout out during a Catholic Mass "I'm gonna whoop you wid da ugly stick!" You may feel a powerful sense of impending doom; this is because you are about to die.

Men may experience impotence, but only during intercourse. Otherwise, a powerful erection will accompany your daily "walking-around time". Do not take this product if you are uneasy with lockjaw. Do not be near a ringing telephone that works at 900 MHz or you will be very dead, very fast. We are assuming you have had chicken pox. You also may experience a growing dissatisfaction with life along with a deep sense of melancholy - join the club!

Do not be concerned if you arouse a few ticks from a Geiger counter. You might want to get a one-month trial subscription to Extreme Fighting. The hook shape of the pill will often cause it to become caught in the larynx. To remove, jam a finger down your throat while a friend holds your nose to prevent the pill from lodging in a nasal passage. T hen throw yourself stomach first on the back portion of a chair. The expulsion of air should eject the pill out of the mouth, unless it goes into a sinus cavity, or the brain.

WARNING: This drug may shorten your intestines by twenty-one feet. Has been known to cause birth defects in the user retroactively. Passing in front of TV may cause the screen to moiré. Women often feel a loss of libido, including a whole octave lowering of the voice, an increase in ankle hair, and perhaps the lowering of a testicle. If this happens, women should write a detailed description of their last three sexual encounters and mail it to me, Bob, Trailer Six, Fancyland Trailer Park, Encino, CA. Or E-mail me at bobathot-guydotcom.

Discontinue use immediately if you feel that your teeth are receiving radio broadcasts. You may experience "lumpy back" syndrome, but we are actively seeking a cure. Bloated fingertips on the heart-side hand are common. When finished with the dosage, be sure to allow plenty of "quiet time" in order to retrain the eye to move off stationary objects. Flotation devices at sea will become pointless, as the user of this drug will develop a stone-like body density; therefore, if thrown overboard, contact your doctor.

This product may contain one or more of the following: bungee cord, plankton, rubber, crack cocaine, pork bladders, aromatic oils, gunpowder, corn husk, glue, bee pollen, dung, English muffin, poached eggs, ham, Hollandaise sauce, crushed saxophone reeds.

Sensations of levitation are illusory, as is the sensation of having a "phantom" third arm. Users may experience certain inversions of language. Acceptable: "Hi, are how you?" Unacceptable: "The rain in Sprain slays blainly on the phsssst."

Twenty minutes after taking the pills, you will feel an insatiable craving to take another dose. AVOID THIS WITH ALL YOUR POWER. It is advisable to have a friend handcuff you to a large kitchen appliance, ESPECIALLY ONE THAT WILL NOT FIT THROUGH THE DOORWAY TO WHERE THE PILLS ARE. You should also be out of reach of any weapon-like utensil with which you could threaten friends or family, who should also be briefed to not give you the pills, no matter how much you sweet-talk them. Notice: This drug is legal in the United States only when the user is straddling a state line.