Category Archives: Memories

Family, Friends, Going Out, Health, Love, Memories, Personal Development, Religion, Spiritual Development

The Highlights of 2007

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Pam over at Willful Grace created a wonderful post in which she describes the major events in her life in each of the last twelve months as well as the lessons she learned from those events. It’s a fantastic post and I encourage everyone to read it.

More importantly, Pam inspired me to do something similar. Sadly, my post won’t be nearly as organized or well thought out as Pam’s is. To be honest, I don’t think I could come up with a single even for every month since last January. And besides, there are a couple of months that I doubt I could boil down into a single event or a single lesson learned from the events of some months.

The good news is that I’m not in a competition with Pam, so I’m under neither obligation nor pressure to match her excellent post. This gives me the freedom to simply allow her to inspire me and see where the inspiration takes me. So for that, I’d like to say thank you to her. And without further ado, I devote this post to the highlights of the previous year of my life.

I think that the first major highlight of the year came in February, when I met Rob. I didn’t talk about Rob much in this blog, and there’s a good reason for it. Rob represented the first time that a potential (and real, however temporary) love interest actually read my blog. As such, I struggled with finding the balance of what I could say, knowing that I didn’t want to reveal anything I hadn’t already discussed with him. After all, reading about what another person is feeling about you in his blog rather than firsthand strikes me as a horrible thing.

Rob found me online — on Valentine’s Day no less — and contacted me to express a desire to get to know me and explore the possibility of a relationship. In many ways, we hit it off quite well. And I have to admit that I was swept off my feet. Rob was the first guy to actually pursue me. (Usually, I’ve had to chase after the other guy.) I learned just how much I could enjoy being the object of pursuit. In fact, I’d say that one of the things I learned about myself due to my encounter with Rob is that I like a slightly aggressive guy.

Sadly, things with Rob were fast-paced and terribly short lived. After a few dates and immediately after our first night together, Rob decided I wasn’t what he was looking for after all. I have to admit that after being pursued that hard and dropped just as quickly, I was stinging. Though I did learn an important lesson in that respect, too. My guides tried to tell me things were going too fast and I should slow things back down. But I allowed myself to get carried away in the heat of the moment.

Of course, I don’t think things would’ve ended any differently. After much time, I realize that Rob and I just weren’t right for each other. And that would’ve been the case no matter how slowly we took things. Though I do admit that I wonder if slowing down would’ve enabled us to realize this before we took things as far as we did, saving at least some heartache. So the lesson I learned from that is that when spirit says slow down, it’s best to listen, even if you are enjoying the heat of the moment.

March and April brought new choices with them. After the events of February, I realized that I needed to get out more and put myself in positions where I could meet more people. Before then, I had a small group of great friends, and I’m still thankful for them. But I realized that if I wanted more out of life (especially in the realms of socializing and dating), it was time to expand my circles even farther. So I began to join various groups and look for other ways to get out in the wider community. I would say I’ve seen some mixed results from those efforts, but I’d say they were positive overall. And it’s still a work in progress. And I’ve made some great friendships (especially one in particular) as a result that I think I will always cherish.

The summer months, starting with June, brought unexpected changes in me. In June, I started walking more. In fact, the weekend before my birthday, I took my first ever seven mile walk along the Erie canal. That first walks was both exciting and draining. I came away with a sunburn and some pretty serious blisters on my feet, but I also developed a passion for the trek. In fact, I loved it so much, that I repeated the walk once a month through September and am even counting down the days until the warm weather returns and I can resume the little tradition.

In addition to the canal walk, I began taking a walk after my weekly dinner with friends on Monday nights. Those walks began when I got ready to leave the restaurant one Monday night and decided it was too gorgeous an evening to just go home. So a second walking tradition was born. By the end of summer, I was up to three one-hour walks a week (except on the weekend I’d take the canal walk, in which case that trek would replace one of the regular walks). I began to see this as something I did for enjoyment.

As an aside, this is also the summer that I began to enjoy sunbathing. This is something I had considered a waste of time while growing up and would often shake my head at my sister in disgust during summer vacations when she’d sunbathe daily. In fact, when I confessed to my sister this summer that I’d started enjoying the practice myself, she immediately asked, “Who are you and what have you done with my brother?”

In August, I went with friends the Northeast Naturist Festival. I had a pleasant time while there (though I will note that I kept my clothes on 99.9% of the time I was there) and enjoyed my first real vacation (i.e. a prolonged period off where I did something other than visit family) in years. I came to appreciate again the importance of pampering myself.

The naturist retreat also marked the point in time where I’d say I really began to start coming into my own in terms of spirituality. I had a few moving experiences while there, and they initiated changes in myself that continued over the next several months, and will likely continue into the coming year.

At this point, I will also note that I started really “coming into my own” in general around this time. Or at least I began to notice it. I began building much more self-confidence and a willingness to take risks and make myself more vulnerable. In some ways, I’d say my transformation into a minor social butterfly started to become more noticeable at this point.

In September and October, I had more spiritual awakenings. It is at this time when my patroness, Freyja, began to make it more clear that the nature of our relationship was going to change significantly. (I’m still not ready to publicly discuss the nature of that change, however.) Again, I found myself in situations where my comfort zones were pushed and I was encouraged (not quite at knifepoint) to stretch as a person.

Also in October, I went to a cousin’s wedding. While making the trip with my parents and members from my father’s side of the family, Freyja also impressed upon me the fact that I’ve cut myself off from my family. She began to impress upon me the fact that I need to get closer to them. She says it’s because there are ways in which I can help various people in my family. Of course, I’m not sure how that’s going to work, considering that the kind of help I can best offer is something most of them would be opposed to. But I guess time will tell.

Then in December, the bombshell dropped. About two weeks before Yule, Freyja suggested (again, not quite at knifepoint) that I should plan the Yule ritual for a small group of friends. So I placed the necessary calls, made the commitment, and moved forward. I have to admit, I was rather nervous, especially after becoming sick for the week prior to the ritual, which I had originally hoped to better use for planning. But things turned out beautifully and everyone had a pleasant time. And fortunately, I have much more advanced noticed for the next ritual I’m expected to plan, which isn’t until the Spring Equinox.

I’d say it’s been an interesting, profound, and profitable year. Hopefully the coming one will continue in that trend.

Friends, Gender and Sexuality, Memories

Memories: Rob and my homophobic past

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As someone who started out this life as a rather conservative fundamentalist Christian attending a Baptist Church and has since become a rather liberal, goddess-worshipping Vanic witch with a fancy for other guys, I know first-hand just how much a person can change over time. Fortunately for me, I’ve met some precious people in this world who also understood that and could embrace those changes. After all, had everyone simply chosen to look at my origins, I would be rather lonely right now.

To explore the memory that I’d like to write about, I first need to set up some background. In college, I was an active member in both my campus’s chapter of InterVarsity Christian Fellowship and an “alternative ministry” program specific to my college called Acts 29. In fact, 99% of my non-academic life revolved around these two groups.

Of course, this meant I was very Christian and quite conservative in my outlook at this time, too. I felt that Christianity was the One True Religion(tm) and that homosexuality was a horrible sin. (Yes, I suspect I even uttered the baleful “love the sinner, hate the sin” phrase at least once during my college career.) Now, I wasn’t particularly antagonistic in my opinion (and a few of the gay students I’ve talked to since would even agree). I didn’t organize or stage protests. I didn’t stand outside of BGLASS (my college’s version of a gay student union) meetings and harass its members or any such thing. For the most part, I basically ignored the very existence of gay and bisexual students on campus. (Of course, I might argue that this is even worse than the things I didn’t do.) But if you asked anyone on campus who knew me, I guarantee you they knew my views.

So when my own prison-closet cracked open and I began to accept and come to terms with my own gayness, I found myself in a bit of a sticky situation. Most of my friends were of the “homosexuality is a sin” mentality, and the group that was best equipped to help me at this point in my life was filled with people I had managed to alienate, even if only indirectly. So I spent the last couple of months of my college career in a sort of limbo, only finding support from a small group of friends involved with the computer consultants (another on-campus project dedicated to helping fellow students resolve their computer problems).

And then of course, there was ISCA BBS. I had been introduced to the Telnet-based BBS (if you don’t know what any of that means, think of it as a sort of precursor to message forums that litter the Word Wide Web today) back when I was a freshman. It included discussion forums for discussing gay issues and even had an invite-only support group for LGBT-folk. I found a lot of support and helpful information there, which was boon for me. Not only that, it was something I managed to stick with after college, when living in rural PA.

Well, my worlds did collide to some degree. An old member of BGLASS (who graduated at least a year before I did), Rob, was also on ISCA BBS. What’s more, he knew my username. Well, needless to say, Rob remembered who I was and my beliefs and attitudes prior to coming out. And while he didn’t make too big of an issue of my past (in fact, he only ever mentioned it twice and was even one of the people to admit I wasn’t “too bad” when it came to stuff like harassing people), it was also pretty clear that he wasn’t exactly ready to think of it as water long passed under the bridge either.

What amazed me, however, was the reaction he received from other users of the BBS on the second time he brought up my past. I forget what exactly Rob said. To be honest, I didn’t find it all that objectionable, as he simply brought the subject up. Granted, it did give me pause to feel a twinge of guilt due to such memories, but I took it in stride. However, at least one of the long-standing members of the discussion group was not so willing to just let thing be. This individual instead chose to very pointedly remind Rob that my past was not relevant and that who I am today (or that day, as I’ve further changed since even then) was what was relevant. Indeed, this person seemed quite incensed that Rob would even bring up such distasteful skeletons.

Now, I’ve never been one to try and hide or even deny my past. I won’t beat myself up for them either, instead choosing simply to acknowledge that I made some bad choices in the past. But I was and still am grateful that there were those people who were willing to let those bad choices go and instead embrace the person I had become. I think some times, we all need people like that. May the gods bless those who accept that we may not be the same person today as we were yesterday. It grants us the freedom to continue that transformation tomorrow.

Family, Friends, Memories

Memories that rolled with the dice

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Last night, I met Rick at Equal Grounds to play a couple of games. We often do this on a Wednesday night. Since we both had other plans for tonight, he suggested we get together yesterday instead.

This time, he asked me to look over the games there at the shop and select three for him to choose from. (Normally, he gives me three options and I make the final choice.) So I recommended Scrabble, Monopoly (which we had played last Wednesday), and Yahtzee. To my surprise and delight, Rick chose the third game. This was great because I’m actually a big fan of Yahtzee, though I actually prefer the related game from my childhood, Kismet.

The two games are similar enough that playing with Rick last night reminded me of the numerous times my sister, my parents, and I sat with my grandfather at his dining room table playing Kismet. (That is, when the grown-ups weren’t playing Euchre.) It particularly reminded me of the one game when I somehow managed to roll three or four different Kismets. (Of course, that memory was probably particularly triggered by my first game with Rick, wherein I rolled two Yahtzees within the first five or ten minutes of the game. I consider myself lucky he consented to play a second an third game with me after that.)

I found these particular memories warming because it’s one of the rare pleasant memories I have of spending time at my grandfather’s house (at least after my grandmother passed away). To be honest, my sister and I were often bored during our weekly visits, as it was far more common for my parents and my grandfather to play cards, leaving the two of us to either do homework or find something on television to watch once we had finished with the Sunday comics (the other exciting gem of every visit to Grandpa’s house). So the bulk of these visits were often endured rather than enjoyed, making the times when we played Kismet a fun change of pace.

It’s been several years since my grandfather passed away, and I find myself now wondering what ever became of his Kismet game. In retrospect, I almost wish I would’ve had the insight to ask my parents if they could set it aside for me when they and my aunts and uncles went through Grandpa’s belongings. But alas, I didn’t think of it now.

However, today I did confirm that Kismet is still for sale, and I expect to pick up my own set in the near future. The memories from last night just makes it all the more tempting. I wonder if I’ll ever get Rick to indulge me in a couple games sometime.

Family, Memories, Pets

A Memory: Trixie

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While going through my computer, I found a file in which I wrote about my old dog, Trixie. According to the comptuer, I originally created the file back on 27 December 2005. I don’t remember why I wrote it, but I decided I liked it well enough to publish it here.

I can’t remember exactly how old I was when my sister and I used to play with Trixie at my grandparents’ trailer. All I know for sure is that it was back when my paternal grandmother was alive, back when Trixie was still her dog rather than ours. I had to be either in preschool or the first couple years of elementary school. My family would go to visit her and my grandfather every week. Each visit would require that one of the adults take my sister and me down to the pen where they kept Trixie.

She was an adorably plain dog. To this day, I don’t think I could even begin to guess at the breeds that made up her muttly heritage. She was about the size of a Pomeranian, with brown and white fur and a curly tail. Her lower jaw stuck out just enough so that her four front-most lower teeth were visible when she closed her mouth. Under other circumstances, this would have made her look constantly ferocious. But to me, it just made her all that more adorable.

Being small children, we loved to play with Trixie. Often, we would pester my grandfather (often, with the help of our grandmother, who loved nothing more than to see her grandchildren having fun) to let us let the dog loose. Then she would run around with us and we’d have a great time.

On some occasions, we’d even convince the adults (again, usually with Grandma helping us to persuade the others) to let us bring Trixie into the trailer with us for a half hour or so. On these occasions, we got to play our favorite game. My sister and I would lie on our stomachs and bury our faces in our arms. Trixie would run around us excitedly, trying to get at our faces and lick us. We’d laugh and giggle.

Every now and then, Trixie would start to wander off. My sister or I would immediately raise our heads up and call to her with a little chant. “Trixie, Trixie, try and kiss me.” At hearing this, the dog would become excited again and the game would start all over, making both my sister and I squeal with laughter. Grandma would watch all of this with a smile on her face. Grandpa wasn’t always as impressed, but she managed to keep him from getting too upset.

Eventually, Grandma succumbed to the cancer that had been trying to claim her life ever since I knew her. Just before she went into the hospital the final time, she asked my sister and me to take care of Trixie for her. That’s how that adorable little dog with the constantly bared teeth eventually came to be my dog. We had her until my second year in college. And while I never plaid the “try and kiss me” game with her after Grandma died, I loved her that entire time. Some days, I still miss her.

Health, Introspection, Memories, Personal Development

Not sure when this changed for me.

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Char decided to have a sidewalk sale1 outside of Psychic’s Thyme today. I ended up spending the first half of my time there sitting outside and helping keep an eye on the merchandise. I would’ve helped with customers, but all but two or three of them ended up paying inside the store because they wanted to see what was for sale there, too. It was a fun time, however. And I got lots of sun and fresh air.

I also realized something about myself. I like being outdoors. I like the idea of getting a tan. This is totally bizarre, because it’s something I completely disliked while growing up. My sister would often go outdoors in the afternoon during summer vacation and spend a couple of hours lying in the old lounge chair my parents owned. I thought she was nuts and found the idea of just lying out in the sun insane.

Of course, it was probably the act of lying around that struck me as inside as the fact that such immobility was being enacted out doors. I was a rather hyper kid, even through my teenage years. Unless I was reading (and even that required frequent breaks unless it was a book I absolutely loved) or on the computer, I had to be on the move. No grass could grow under my feet and no moss would ever get the chance to grow on me.

Yet, as I get older I’m finding myself more inclined to be less active. This is especially true if I’m doing it someplace where I get sunlight and fresh air. So I suspect I’ll be looking at my weekly schedule to figure out when and where I can pencil in some more outdoor tanning time. And I figure it’ll be napping time, too. But that’s okay.

1 No actual sidewalks were sold at this sale. Isn’t that strange? I mean, you sell books at a book sale, right?

Daily Life, Emotions, Introspection, Love, Memories, Music, Personal Development

Musical flashback

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While driving to Applebee’s tonight, Aerosmith’s song, I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing, came on the radio. There are many songs that are deeply connected to memories of people and events in my life, and this is one such song. In fact, it’s probably one of the most strongly connected songs I can think of.

Tonight, this song took me back to my relationship with my first boyfriend. At the time Chris (not his real name) and I were dating, this song was relatively new and seeing a lot of airtime across the nation. And every time I heard it, I became more deeply convinced that it was the perfect song to describe how I felt about our relationship. In fact, I think I pointed this out to Chris at the time.

Thinking about the relationship now, I can still understand why I felt this way. Chris and I seldom saw each other (we probably spent barely over a week total together throughout the six months we were “involved”), and it was perfectly reasonable for me to want to make as much of that precious rare time as I could. On more than one occasion, I ended up taking a sick or personal day off work just so I could have those eight more hours with him.

Of course, there were other reasons for feeling like this, too. The relationship wasn’t healthy, and I knew it. And that made me want to cling to it even tighter, holding it together out of my own desparation. Aerosmith’s song spoke to me powerfully and romantically about that desparation I was feeling. In many ways, I used that song to validate my sense of desperation.

As I listened to that song this evening and allowed these memories and thoughts to play through my mind, I began to ask myself many questions. The first question was whether there was any pain associated with this song or the memories that it evoked. There wasn’t, and I have to admit that I’m a little surprised by that. Certainly, there’s a certain morose feel to the whole thing as I think of mistakes made and lessons learned. And there’s the memory of the pain that used to be there. There’s the knowledge that years ago, hearing this song would’ve driven me to tears almost instantly. But not this evening. This evening, there was merely a sense of familiarity and a knowledge of what has passed. And while I find it somewhat strange, I also find it rather comforting.

Of course, I also asked myself how I felt about the message of the song today. If I were with someone, would this song still reflect how I would feel about a new relationship? And I think that for the most part, I can say that it doesn’t. Because now, my love relationships aren’t about desperation, they’re about something else.

The underlying premise of the song is about a relationship that would consume my whole life, an that’s not what I’m lookin fo at all. Certainly, I want a lover I can share my life with, and I’d prefer to spend the rest of my life with him. And there are certainly those moments I will want to get lost in, but only for a time. Because there are other things in my life that are equally important. And I do not wish to give up those things completely just so I can make sure I “don’t miss a thing” with my lover. That just isn’t healthy.

It’s strange to think of the thought processes a song can initiate. Of course, I also find it interesting that this all started on the same day that I had a dream about Chris (sadly, I don’t remember any details) while napping.

Family, Friends, Going Out, Memories, Movies

The magic of drive-in theaters

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Saturday night, a group of friends went to the Silver Lake Drive-In. We ended up watching Spiderman 3 and Ghost Rider, both of which were excellent movies. I ended up sitting in Belinda’s car watching the shows with her. The experience that night brought back a few memories.

Of course, any trip to a drive-in theater always brings back childhood memories. My parents, being frugal people, never took my sister or I to the movie theater. However, they were perfectly happy to take my sister and I to the drive-in theater a couple times each summer. Each time we’d go, they’d bundle the two of us into our pajamas before taking us out to the small drive-in (I was amazed when I learned that some places had more than one screen and offered a selection of movies to watch). I don’t remember many of the movies we saw, the only two that stick out vividly are The Fox and the Hound (which I cried at because of the ending) and Herbie Goes Bananas. I also remember that the one time we went, the second movie they showed was Canonball Run. I particularly my mother mentioning the next day that she was glad that my sister fell asleep during that movie. (We often fell asleep during the second movie, which is why we were always bundled in our pajamas.)

Back then, going to the Drive-In was a special treat. We didn’t go often, but Mom and Dad always made sure we saw at least one movie each summer. They would usually tell my sister and me a couple days in advance, and we’d look forward to the “big night” from that moment on. I suppose that’s why going to a drive-in is still a magical event to me over two decades later. There’s a certain sense to the experience that I doubt even seeing a movie at an I-Max theater could compare to in my mind.

The other memory that Saturday night brought back to me was the last time I went to a drive-in. That was during college. A group of us went to see Pocahontas with our friends Dennis and Mary and their three small children. There was a second movie we saw that night, but I forget what it was. I do remember that neither James nor I were impressed with it and spent most of the movie whispering snide comments about it between ourselves.

That was the night that I learned that some of the larger drive-in theaters have more than one screen, a fact that totally surprised me. I also remember my surprise at discovering that some drive-in theaters also broadcast the sound for their movies using a very small range FM radio transmitter. During my childhood, the theater we went to only had the small speakers that you hung on the edge of your car window.

That was also the first time that I didn’t stay in the car. Dennis backed his mini van up into the spot so that the rear of the van was facing the screen. We then all climbed out and opened the back doors on the van. Some sat in the back of the van while the rest of us lined up in front in our lawn chairs. It was a different experience for me, and quite a pleasant one.

Saturday night, we stayed in our cars (though one of the girls did go sit outside in a chair). We hadn’t brought chairs or blankets (well, the others hadn’t brought blankets, but I had one). As it was quite chilly this weekend, we decided to stay in the cars for the most part. However, a great many people did choose to go sit or lay out on the lawn in front of all of the cars. We particularly admired the family who had the foresight to bring not only sleeping bags, but bean bags to lay on and a tarp to put down and keep everything else dry with.

It was a truly magical evening, and I look forward to repeating it again. Who knows, with any luck, I might get a chance to share the experience with someone special before the summer is out.

Friends, Going Out, Health, Introspection, Memories, Personal Development

The beauty of late night strolls

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Tonight, I held the first weekly meditation at Genesee Valley Park. After doing it, I realized that we should’ve moved these meditations outside last summer, too. It added a certain pleasantness to the whole experience. It certainly helped that I added the actual sensations of the outdoors to the imagery I was using.

And of course, the fresh air was good for me. I’ve been getting a lot of that with all of these trips to the park. I’ve made it one of my goals to get there at least twice a week, and spend at least an hour and a half each week walking there. I figure that this will not only give me a chance to rejuvenate my body with clean air, but it’ll also get my blood pumping and release a few endorphins in the process.

After meditation, I went to dinner at Red Robin. When I got out of the restaurant, it was almost dark out, with just a few minutes left of dusk. Part of me didn’t want to come home. Part of me wanted to find someplace to go and enjoy more of the great outdoors. If I knew of someplace I could go where I would’ve felt completely safe, I would’ve done exactly that, too.

When I came out of the restaurant and had these moods, I found myself thinking about the many nights that I and various friends would walk down to the Susquehanna River and spend some time walking along the riverbank. We’d spend a great deal of time talking and just enjoying the experience. The memory made me realize just how much I miss that sort of thing.

There’s something about walking with a good friend or two after dark, speaking in semi-soft tones as you stroll along. It’s a setting that allows you to share deep, intimate thoughts and even be a bit more vulnerable. In fact, it doesn’t just allow it, it practically encourages it. And I could see myself doing that here along the canal if only someone like James or Tim was here.

Who knows, perhaps I will eventually find someone here I can share that kind of experience with.

Going Out, Introspection, Memories, Personal Development

Thinking back and looking ahead

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Today, I got looking through old diary entries from the time when I moved up here to Rochester. As I read through them, it amazed me to notice how things have progressed since then. Things simply didn’t work out the way I expected them to. But that’s okay, because I like the way things turned out better than I would’ve had they gone the way I’d originally planned.

I think one of the things that truly amuses me is the fact that I mentioned in two separate entries how close the mall was to my townhouse. I was quite excited about that fact when I moved in. That’s understandable, as the closest mall to me back when I lived with my parents was more than thirty minutes away by car.

Today, I rarely go to the mall. (And when I do, I will often make the trip out to the Eastview Mall instead.) In reality, I’m just not a big shopper, and I realized that hanging out at the mall and people watching (one of my original goals) just wasn’t my style. I’d much rather interact with people rather than watch them. So now, I’m finding myself preferring the coffee shops and other venues where conversation is more likely to pop up.

Of course, I still like that all the other stores that cropped up around the mall are still there. Being ten minutes from Best Buy, Borders, Target, and Wal-Mart is still a plus. But those are conveniences, whereas the closeness of a mall was a novelty that quickly wore off.

Shortly after I moved, I also started making plans to volunteer at Lollypop Farms. I’ve officially given that up. I quit going regularly back before Christmas and just decided that while I enjoyed working with the cats and chatting with the staff and volunteers as we worked side by side, I’d rather sleep in after doing things on Saturday nights. And any other shift would similarly interfere with other activities I’ve gotten into since coming to the area.

I also tried three classes through the Rush-Henrietta school district’s continuing education program the first nine months I was here. I enjoyed every last one of them, but they weren’t quite what I expected. I had joined to meet people, and I did exactly that. But I also found that most of them were older people. As I was and am trying to meet people in my own age bracket, I decided to give that a halt.

However, I will note that I’m toying with the idea of teaching a class. The blogging class I took through them was discontinued after the first quarter they tried it. This was because the instructor for the class took a new job and was no longer able to teach the class. I’ve considered talking to the continuing education office about teaching my own class of that sort. But I haven’t committed yet.

While I didn’t mention it in any of the diary entries back then, I would also note that I had originally checked out COAP. Back then, I decided not to join. Most of the events they described at the time were outings and trips, and I just couldn’t see myself getting involved when I didn’t know anyone. And yet, now, I’m becoming an increasingly active member in COAP. I’ve attended the last three game nights, and I’m off to a dinner this evening and eagerly anticipating the increased number activities that Woody says tend to start in the summer.

Learning about game night from Rob contributed greatly to my decision to reconsider my position on COAP. I wasn’t prepared to go to Toronto with a bunch of strangers. But I could definitely see myself sitting around playing board games (actually, we have yet to play one) and card games with them. It was a setting that I could be relatively comfortable in, and it’s proved quite rewarding.

But I also think it was a matter of me just not being ready until this past February. As I look back over the past twenty months, I realize that I’ve gone through a lot of growth and healing which have greatly boosted my self-confidence. This in turn has helped me learn to be more open to and even desire increased socialization. And I was able to see how much I needed it. So things changed, and now I’m ready to take those extra steps that I was only ready to talk about back when I moved here. In some ways, I guess you could say that moving here began a transitional period in my life that is only now drawing to a close. And as it does, I’m finding myself with a stronger foundation to reap the benefits of those changes.

Daily Life, Deep Thoughts, Emotions, Going Out, Introspection, Memories, Personal Development, Writing

Day in Review

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I lost my cell phone this morning. When I got to the customer site, I went to take it off my belt, only to find the belt clip was empty. I couldn’t do anything about it, so I prayed that I somehow left it at home (not really a possibility, given the belt clip was with me) and went in to work. After work, I decided to run right home to check. My neighbor came out the front door as I got out of my car. It turns out that I had lucked out. Apparently, I knocked the silly thing off while dusting the snow off my car this morning. My neighbor had come home at lunch and found it. So I thanked him profusely and hopped back into my car to head for Equal Grounds.

I almost went to Jitters here in Henrietta instead. As of yesterday, the POC started having our weekly Meet and Greets there, and I found it an incredibly enjoyable place. However, I decided I wanted the slightly more cozy atmosphere of my old haunt, so I made the drive to the South Wedge. While there, I wrote some erotica and the next chapter of Journey.

While there, a couple other patrons watched Hide and Seek. I glanced up from time to time to watch the giant screen (it was less than four feet from me) for a few seconds, but I mainly focused on the writing. From what I saw, it was a pretty bizarre movie, and I never expected the ending.

The new chapter in Journey is about my longest relationship. It was a strange one to write. I’m finding that as the events I’m writing about get closer and closer to the modern day, it’s a little harder to write. Of course, part of that is because the issues Ihave to write about are things I’m still working on in some sense. This became apparent as I wrote the last few paragraphs of this chapter. I realized that the end of that relationship was about realizing what I deserved and demanding it. That’s something I’m still working on right now, and the need to continue insisting on the kind of love, affection, and attention I both want and deserve is a lesson that’s getting driven home right now.