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Near midnight and tomorrow seems far away

I have been doing a lot of thinking. A lot of soul searching. I write thoughts in my head for later fodder. Tonight this is one skimmed from a dream a few days ago.

My story will not be written in the stars
It will be written in my scars
Upon physical inspection
They are not seen with the naked eye.
I am not so arrogant as to think the stars
Hold my story in their ancient grasp
Here, on my wrist, is raised skin from
An accident in high school chemistry
The event changed my life
There are burn marks on my face from that day too
They have faded with time.
This one is from when I jumped off the porch
Onto a broken coke bottle
It was my first set of stitches
Beneath my skin a whole other story unfolds
In my mind I am still the small child
That bore the brunt of a belt-wielding father
Those welts have long since faded
But not the memory of my eight year old self
Dodging as the leather whizzed through the air
In a resounding thwack.
The bite mark on my back has smoothed out
From the bashing I took at the hands of boys bigger than me
High school boys that were older
And I have no reasoning for the attack
Almost thirty years later.
But it has been words that left the deepest cut
Such as, “you are ugly”
“You will never amount to anything”
These serve as a warning to parents
You may forget what you say in anger
To your children
But they never will.
Like a patchwork quilt
Laid deep in my mind
The collection of scars
Are the tapestry that tell my story
The stars are inconsequential
I wrap myself in a blanket not of my own making
But one handed down through the years
Generations before me have woven this story

– On the road

 

The power of rejection

I saw him nearby in the bar. My latest type. Hipster. Fun shirt stretched across ample pecs and a brownish-red beard. My married friend said hi and they chatted. I was talking to a host of other folks and finally made my way to say hello. I introduced myself.
I’m Daniel.
He cocked his head back and spoke with a hint of Spanish accent.
I am Daniel too.
We chatted aimlessly. Asking questions of one another. Where are you from? Are you here for the holiday weekend? Who are you here with?
He pulled me to the bar for a drink and made fun of its pink hue.
It’s not masculine, he said.
I had the bartender splash some grenadine for a redder color.
We chatted some more.
Somehow we became separated after going to the bathroom. The friend who had been speaking with him originally kept insinuating himself back into the conversation even after we’d walked off to grab a drink. We went to the restroom and my friend followed.
Daniel was speaking to other folks when I came out of the bathroom.
My friends wanted to go to dinner.
I said that we were leaving. He barely acknowledged me leaving.
Before dinner I was angry by the friend who kept coming between he and I. I was pissed that someone who has a lover and a child would stop someone else, block a single guy from hanging with this beauty.
He told me later he intentionally cock block me.
I lamented to my best buddy that I was sick of being alone. I was pissed at our friend for behaving in such a way. I was sick of looking at the couples walking by. Fat and ugly couples. Skinny or muscular couples holding hands. When is it my time? It’s been ten years since I’ve dated. Being in DC has been a nightmare. I haven’t dated and have rarely hooked up. The guys that have come over, for the most part, haven’t been my standard hottie. They’ve been fat and while not ugly they were sometimes ugly adjacent.
I’m a snob. Or was. I mean I am still attractive. Granted age has dulled the pink in my cheeks and lips. Some grey hairs have trickled in and started heading south. At least they aren’t below the waist line yet. Granted it’s all trimmed there so who knows?
And yes I have wrinkles. What a horrible word. Laugh lines. That’s better. I can deal with that. It’s character. Not old man-like.
So at dinner I am already mad and have to sit next to the clock blocker.
Then one of the friends I drove to the beach with decided to split the check six ways. I am pissed because I had ordered what was in my budget. Not to split the fucking bill and pay for shit I cannot afford.
After dinner they want to go back out. I join them looking for Daniel.
He’s back at the bar I left him at.
We talk again and grab another drink. He pays again.
We talk and he flirts with other folks and my friend tries to cock block again. I give Daniel my number. Key it into his phone. I send myself a message and we leave. The message doesn’t come through and I wonder if maybe I keyed the wrong number in because I am drunk.
We go back to the house and I end up falling asleep. So did my housemates.
The next day is Monday and we are at the beach. Every bearded boy is Daniel. I chat with everyone we are sitting with. My cock blocking friend is playing with his kid. I feign interest.
We head back to the house and my friends prepare to go out. They leave and I am relaxing at the house. They text me and tell me he’s at the bar. I head to the bar.
I catch him and find out my number was wrong. Sure enough my drunk ass keyed it in wrong.
We leave and I feel better when we head out to dinner.
Daniel and I text a couple of times over the next day or so. We left for the city that night and I am exhausted. My friends never leave at a decent time. I don’t get home until 2 am and my car breaks down in my yard. I took the next day off and should have gotten my car towed but I am so over the goddamned car and cock blocking friends.
I realized that if Daniel wanted me we would have had sex together while at the beach.

I am defeated. He and I text all week while he’s back in Mexico and we flirt. I flirt. He feigns ignorance.
I am defeated. I’ve invited him to an event I am cohosting and he barely pays me attention.
He wasn’t drinking which surprised me because he had been drinking almost every time I’ve texted with him over the last week.
I leave him to the vultures. The older men in the group who fawn over him.
I am defeated because I know the attraction is one sided. I have felt this before but usually bounce back but not this time.
This, combined with my hatred of DC and it’s nasty people makes me filled with rage and depression.
I finally ask him out but he says he just wants to be friends. I tell him that isn’t in the cards for us. Perhaps it’s silly to give up so easily. But I am too old to play any game but ‘beat the clock’

– Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

 

Union station and Senator Dodd

I am sitting in the Columbus Room at Union Station in DC waiting for Senator Dodd’s arrival. For those outside the world or finance and regulation, he is one of the authors of the Dodd-Frank Act. One of the most broadly reaching pieces of financial regulation. The room is large and open. White walls are topped with a fresco ceiling, while the windows near the ceiling are lined with painted frescos. The rich opulence reminds me of the wealth that banks have amassed before and after the financial crisis.
 
 
 – On the road

Location:Massachusetts Ave NE,Washington,United States

Zombies attacked me in my sleep

I woke up with an earache that is now in my throat and throughout the left side of my face. I feel like a zombie. Arg.

Of course sinus meds helped with that freshly zombie-bitten feeling.

Crawling back in bed.

– Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Gonna play the lottery

On the way to work this morning, I managed to have nothing but green lights. Now that may not seem so far fetched but from my house to the metro is about three miles. There are about seven lights and all were green this morning. When I got near the Springfield mall, I just knew that run was over because those lights are what I call social security lights – they are red so long you may have to have your social security checks mailed to you there.

So, I decided today must be my day to play the lottery. If there was ever an indication that it’s my lucky day, a street full of green lights is a great sign!

– Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Farmers market- late post

I wrote this weeks ago and forgot to post!

Checking out the street / farmers market in DuPont Circe because Luis is volunteering. Sitting at a cafe having brunch and I realized that it takes balls to drive in this area. Especially trying to park.

The day is overcast and moving toward sunny after the threat of rain dissipated. Here I am watching the people. Beautiful and fascinating. Some stir my lust while others stir my wonderment. I am looking for reasons to like DC. Today is one of them.

This kid was amazing on the violin.

– Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Location:New Hampshire Ave NW,Washington,United States

Everything has to come together

You have to wonder how things ever get done. Today is a perfect example. I had to leave early to hit the pharmacy that my doc prefers. They close at 6 and I don’t get off till then. I’d finished the story I had been working on earlier in the afternoon, that was after a number of stops and starts.

So I leave at 4:30 and head into DC. That is always a trek as it takes two trains from my office to get to where I needed to be in DuPont Circle. I arrived in decent time, right before five.

I get to the counter, ask for my meds and then it starts. The pentacle of fuckupery.

The amount they were trying to charge me was three times the amount I was charged on my previous visit. I asked the middle eastern man to check into the discount card I’d brought in previously.

Twenty minutes later he tells me that it wasn’t honored for either medication. I handed over my prescription benefits card.

Declined.

Three calls later to the card services staff, they told me to try the card as credit instead of debit.

Declined. Again. We checked the balance. $600 in the account. Enough to pay the $110 they were trying to charge me.

The woman at the card services looked at the transaction at her end. The card was declined because the pharmacy didn’t have the system set up for the transaction to show as a prescription. Now answer me this: how can a pharmacy have a system set up not showing a prescription as a damned prescription??????

I told the young man what the card holder was seeing. He had no idea what was going on – no clue. None whatsoever. “I will let the owner know.”

I asked him to tell me what I was supposed to do without my medications. Without blood sugar meds, I run the risk of high blood sugar. It has been a problem that we had just gotten settled. I was finally getting my blood sugar below 200, or down to 100 even. When it had been running as high as 500 at times, this was miraculous. Now I am on my way home without medication. Without the security of knowing that after my current stash is out, as of tomorrow morning, I could run the risk of this same high numbers scenario.

So I am livid. I knew something was up last time I got my meds there because my card was declined but at that time the amount was manageable. The amount of time I have wasted and the money I lost from being off the clock are not worth this headache. I left there so mad that I wanted to punch something. I was cussing as I headed down to DuPont station. Fuming!

And I realize that my overreaction had less to do with the pharmacy’s fuckupery, it was because my friend died this weekend. I was shocked to realize this. I didn’t think I was taking this so hard.

They told me at work this morning that Sean passed over the weekend. My mentor, my friend, my buddy. I won’t see his big old smiling face anymore. I won’t hear his crazy stories and jokes. I can’t stop by his desk and go to an impromptu lunch.

So, no, things didn’t come together. And they may never again. But I can tell you this: I won’t let a moment pass by without saying hello, or thanks, or allowing myself to feel the greatness of the moment. Or the sadness left behind in the wake of the loss of a friend.

Will the medication debacles get resolved? Yes. But I won’t get a chance to say thanks to Sean. Life is shorter than we realize. I need to make changes so I can live as large as possible. I’ve lived too often in the shadow of others – even though some family and friends would argue that I stand in no one else’s shadow.

It’s time for me to cast the shadow. And when I do that pharmacy had better look out!!

– Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Location:Pennsylvania Ave NW,Washington,United States

Aside

Anniversary, pride and the metro

As most of you know, I am a casual observer of people out in public. Over the last few weeks I’ve been seeing interesting people that I wanted to note and share.

Earlier this week I saw a white man wearing a suit, pulling luggage. But the odd thing was the plastic wrapped container of waters and prepared snacks. It was a cellophane wrapped box of prepared snacks. Did he win them in an office lottery? Or was he taking them to his secretary? It was just interesting. Like…

The tall white kid I saw this week that had the biggest Afro I’ve ever seen! (Why did my phone capitalize Afro?). It was bigger than any I’ve ever seen. Snaps to him for the courage to keep it out of all closing metro train doors. That takes balls. And mad skills.

Today I saw an older male couple heading to gay pride. They had their shirts on proclaiming where they were heading. It was awesome. They were easily in their sixties. I Love that they were heading to pride. It made me realize that my Lamentations that pride is a young mans game are false. Yesterday made me think it was way too young for me. Even after seeing all those beautiful young people strutting, I am happy to see these older guys strolling. And like me, observing.

Other stuff: the young person of indistinguishable gender wearing ripped shorts and an attitude for ages. She/he was pretty regardless.

Me in the middle of getting sunburned.

So the realization hit that I moved here a year ago Friday. Seems like longer.

The thing is that I am not particularly happy here. The city is like a cruel mistress. She enticed me with a stunning city filled with trappings of tourism and history.

Her cruelty lay in the fact that this city is very transitory, as people have warned me here. That fact makes people hardened to others and I have witnessed the harshness and meanness that others inflict on newbies. It’s a dog eat dog world and my milk-bone underwear are filled with teeth marks.

My ability to afford the city becomes more suspect with each paycheck. There’s rarely much left for food and with the damned speeding photo-ticket I received in the mail, I may go on a diet that I didn’t intend.

Unfortunately, the combination of all these little things adds up for a serious bout of depression. I am usually a happy person but not these days.
And that brings me back to yesterday. The pretty boys and hot men aren’t looking at me. Even when I was young, I was never that hot!!!

The cruelty isn’t just made from this city but the fates as well. Starting over at this age is no fun. Maybe I can fashion a good book out of it. I guess that means no more laying around feeling sorry for myself. Time to brush off the cobwebs on my typing skills and use my head for something more than a place for my cap.

In the meanwhile, I am going to look at interesting, hot or fun people today. Maybe some will be all three.

At the end of the day it was pretty awesome. Gotta love it when friends keep you smiling and sane.

– Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Location:Achilles Ct,Franconia,United States

At the treasury now

My first treasury meeting is going to be interesting. It’s starting with a briefing on the FSOC meeting this afternoon. Never realized that this was such a big deal! Later in the day, there is a meeting with some huge names in the finance regulatory world. Yellen. Tarullo. Lew. My little South Georgia mind is reeling!

Wish me luck!!!

– Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Location:Alexander Hamilton Pl NW,Washington,United States

The (unwanted) power of invisibility

I guess I never realized I had a superpower. But it’s been creeping into my daily life for a bit now. I see it in passing glimpses. People don’t see me. I thought at first it was because I am in the big city. DC. Melting pot and shit hole all in one. I have grown used to it in the gay community. Most gay men seemed to look beyond me to some point on the horizon where other hotties are made, I guess. Because they weren’t looking at me.
No. The true state of the nature of my superpower came into full bloom last week. Now anyone who knows me knows that I am a pretty courteous guy. I say please and thank you and remember when birthdays are of most of the folks around me.
As I stepped off the elevator at work and headed to Panera in my building, I noticed them. Two older women wandering through the lobby of my building. They were headed in the same direction as I was. That is to say the glass doors going to Panera. I quickly grabbed the door and held it for them, my delightfully goofy grin firmly in place. They stepped through the doors and continued to walk. They didn’t see me. I called out, “You’re welcome!” Still no response. I thought perhaps they were just rude like so many other people I had encountered in DC.
But after last weekend, I realize I have superpowers. My apologies to the old white women I thought were rude.
I was out drinking and partying with friends. After a few shots and adult beverages, my liquid courage was at threshold. I said hi to guys. Smiling and complimenting them. But no one chatted back. Not one guy said hi back. No smiles, not even looks of distain. Now I know I am short. That’s easily verifiable. But I am not so short that your line of sight towers over my head!
As I was getting into the metro train at Pentagon station today, I politely waited until others disembarked the train. The conductor obviously didn’t see me as the doors slammed to a close when I tried to step across the threshold. Another couple of inches closer and my Romanesque nose would have been clamped in its clutches.
Someone tried to close the elevator doors on me today. My roommate didn’t notice my freshly shorn hair last night.
I am unaware of radiation exposure or any other chemicals that could have caused such an unexpected situation. Nor do I recall strange lights during the recent eclipse. There’s been no evidence that I have been abducted by aliens. So I am uncertain as to how these mysterious powers developed.
Just don’t tell the government. I don’t wanna be a lab rat!
So you see, my superpower is real. Forget going to see hottie extraordinaire Chris Evans in Captain America or the new Superman movie with hottie mchot. You have a real live superhero right here. The problem is you won’t see me. And I am sitting next to ya!

Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Location:Metroliner Parking,Springfield,United States

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