May 17, 2003

Today marks the five year anniversary of the beginning of the worst 15 months of my life.  It started on May 17, 2003 and it ended on August 9, 2004.  And boy was it sucky.

But for today we’ll stick with May 17th.

Five years ago today my father had massive heart attack and died on the kitchen floor of the home that he and my mother had bought just two years before.  My mother was devastated.  Although the paramedics assured her there was nothing she could have done, she blamed herself for not getting to the phone faster.  I had just gotten home from spending the night at my boyfriend David’s house.  There was a message waiting for me from my brother’s boyfriend.  (I’m still not sure why it wasn’t from Steven).  All it said was call us back, something has happened to your dad.  I immediately picked up the phone and called Jerry back.  He answered and there was a long pause and he said, “He’s gone.”  I didn’t even respond.  I just hung up.

I didn’t even know how to respond.  I’d never had anyone close to me die.  The relatives that I knew that had died were older and it was expected or I didn’t know them very well.  None of my friends had ever died.  No one.  So suddenly grief was staring me in the face and I didn’t know what to do.  I picked up the phone and started calling.  My boyfriend…no answer.  My friend Lou…no answer.  My friend Sean…no answer.  My friend Neal…no answer.  My boyfriend again…no answer.  My friend Dan (he’d just lost his father)…no answer.  My friend Michelle…no answer.  I was desperate to talk to anyone.  Anyone at all.  I was sitting in my living room shaking unaware of what was going on around me.

After a few minutes of panic, adult Maddog kicked in.  There was no time to stress, or even thing about other things.  I had to book a flight to Kentucky.  I knew that I’d never be able to afford a ticket at the last minute even with the discount they give, so I called my friend Lou back.  He travels for business and picks up over a million miles a year.  I left a message telling him what was going on and that I needed to get to Kentucky today.  I then went to my room and started packing.  I had no idea what the plan was but I knew that even if I had to rent a car and drive I would be in KY by the end of the day.

In the midst of all this the phone calls began.  I don’t remember who called first.  I do know that I was on the phone for the next hour or so, with people calling.  Sometime in there my boyfriend David called.  I asked him if he would come with me to Kentucky.  He told me he would think about it.  I remember thinking that if he didn’t come that would be the end of the relationship, no questions asked.  It seemed like hours but it was minutes that my friend Lou called me back.  He wanted to know the specifics of where I was flying, when I could be at the airport, etc.  I told him what he needed to know and asked for two tickets and he hung up.  I continued packing.  Within minutes he called back and had booked the tickets.  I know they weren’t direct, and I know that I got there around 10:00 but that’s all I remember.

David did go with me and as we got off the plane I realized the next few days were going to be a chore.  Instead of driving straight home, David and I stopped for dinner.  I hadn’t eaten all day and I knew it was going to be a long evening.  I knew that I needed to prepare myself for what was coming.   It was fast and then I drove to my mother’s house.  My mother was in bed when I got there.  She had been given a sedative by the doctor.  She was out of it, but got up the minute I came through the door.  She was a mess.  She would be fine one minute and crying hysterically the next.  We sat in the kitchen and talked for a long time.  I don’t even think she realized David was there.  I finally convinced her to go to bed and she finally went.

I went back to the kitchen to clean up.  All the remnants of the paramedics having worked on my father were there.  I don’t even remember what there was but I knew that my mother kept looking at it and crying all night.

And then the next day arrived.  The whole day is embedded in my memory vividly.  Almost as though it was in slow motion.  We had calls to make.  Arrangements to make.  I called a lot of people that morning to make sure they knew what had happened.  When my mother was finally able to get dressed we left to do all the things one must do when a parent dies.  The first stop was to make arrangements for the funeral.  My mother insisted that we use the place in the town where I grew up around twelve miles away.  We drove there in silence.  As we drove up, my mother began to sob.  We waited in the parking lot till she was calm.  I had called a head and they were expecting us.  It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon.

We walked in and took a  seat in the office.  It was my mother, my brother, his boyfriend Jerry, my boyfriend David, and my dad’s brother and his wife.  The funeral director took a seat and began to walk us through things.  What I had suspected quickly came true.  I had to take the lead on everything.  He only spoke to me.  When he asked questions I answered them.  When he needed to know additional information.  I gave it.  My mother sat there sobbing.  My brother was useless.  (That’s a whole other post).  We were sitting a the table for what seems like hours now.  I have no idea how long it really was.

Next was the hardest part of the day for my mom.  Walking in and choosing a casket.  She almost collapsed on the floor as we entered.  It’s not an easy task.  You don’t want to appear cheap.  But at the same time it’s a waste of money to buys something expensive that’s just going to be put in the ground.  You want it to be something that fits the person, but once again they are dead.  I basically did a quick tour around the space while my brother held my mom.  I picked out three of four that were okay and fit within my mother’s limited budget.  We helped her to take a look at them and she chose one.  Then it was back out to the meeting room to sign the final papers.

Next we were off to the florist.  All of this was surreal by then.  It’s even more surreal now.  As I type this it sort of sounds like we were planning a wedding.  My friend Karen owns a florist in the town that I grew up and my mother requested we go there for the flowers since Karen knew my father.  We got there and my mother began sobbing again.  We got her settled in a chair and told Karen what we wanted.  She offered many suggestions and gave us much advice and we made more decisions.

Then we had to go to the cemetery to pick out a plot.  So we drove there, and were met by a farmer in jeans.  I don’t even know how to explain this part.  The cemetery is behind a little country church.  It’s a beautiful area.  It sits on a hillside and is covered with wild flowers.  When I was little it was not very full at all.  In the past few years people have begun to use it again.  The reason we were there was because my mother’s parents and her brother are buried there.  So here’s the problem.  No one keeps accurate records of the burial plots.  So my mother walked down to where her family was buried and found a place that was big enough for both my father and her.  And then she was told, “Well, I’ll start digging, and as long as I don’t hit anything it’ll be fine.  But you might want to pick out another spot just in case.”  Some of this is probably explained by mentioning that the plots in this cemetery are free, you just have to pay the cost of digging the grave

By this time my mother was exhausted.  I drove her home and got her comfortable at home.  Then the visitors started.  My mother, I think ignored them for the most part.  She spoke when she had to and answered questions when she was asked.  But that was it.  Eventually I made everyone leave and got my mother to bed.

The next two days were more of the same.  My mother was trying her best to hold it together and wasn’t doing a very good job of it.  She almost collapsed a half a dozen times until it was all over.  It was bad when she saw my father in the casket for the first time.  It was worste at the end when she had to say goodbye.  The two days of the visitation and the funeral are a blur.  I remember the first 36 hours vividly.  The next 48 hours blend together indistinguishably.  It was clear that I was the man of the family.  I moved among the people thanking them for coming and speaking of my father.  I met relatives I had not seen in years.  I spoke to people who knew me that I’d never met.  I shook a million different hands.  At one point I thought to myself, this is what being a politician must feel like.  I stood there in my suit, feeling like an imposter.

The funeral was short and sweet.  I sat next to my mother holding her hand.  She was surprisingly strong that day.  At the end as people filed forward to pay their last respects my mother was a brave and courageous woman.  She was polite and thankful.  She held herself together quite well.  When everyone had filed out there was just the immediate family left.  It was my mom, my brother, my stepsister, and her husband and me.  One by one they filed up to say goodbye.  I waited with my mom.  Finally I helped up her and I thought she was going to collapse on the floor.  I walked with her up to say goodbye to my father.  I stepped back so she could have a second alone and then escorted her out of the room.  I left my mother in the care of my aunt and then went back to say my own goodbye.

Growing up I had never been close to my father.  My stepfather actually.  I had just turned three when my mother married him.  I was almost four when my brother was born.  My stepfather and I didn’t get along from the beginning.  He didn’t understand his placement in the family.  I was the man of the house and always had been and it was tough if he didn’t understand this.  We butted heads for the next 18 years.  Sometimes literally.  The Christmas of my senior year of high school we got into a fist fight and I moved out.  I lived with my aunt for almost four months before my mother convinced me to move back home.  Soon after I went off to college and I never really lived with my parents again.  My father and I were tolerant of each other for several years after that.  And then I moved back to Kentucky.  And I started doing tech for theatre instead of acting.  Tech he understood.  Suddenly I could talk to him about tools, and electrics.  He would come to see the shows I built and he understood what was going on.  He started to take an interest in my life.  For the first time in my life he actually treated me like a son and not some asshole kid.  Then in 1992 he had a stroke.  I was in the middle of building the set and designing the lights for a production of Sweeney Todd.  I would go the hospital in the morning, at lunch, and dinner and I would go by at night to say goodnight to my mother.  He slowly got better but it was soon evident that his personality had changed.  He became beligerant.  He was impatient.  Everything bothered him.  When the dog next door came into our yard, my father would become irate.  Things like that.  What’s interesting during this whole thing is that I was the only one he would listen to.  If he got impatient and I asked him to wait he would be fine.   If something was bothering him, I would explain that it would be okay and he would calm down.  And through all of this we became close.

And so I stood at the casket, thinking to myself that he really had become my father in the end.  And that I really did love him.

We got my mom situated in the car and then began the long trek to the cemetery.  We gathered on a hillside on a sunny Tuesday afternoon to say goodbye to my father.

We drove back to Lexington without speaking.  We did the standard gathering of people and everyone brought food.  It’s no wonder everyone in America is fat because we learn at an early age to feed our feelings.  Soon everyone was gone, and I put my mother to bed.

My boyfriend left the next day.

And I spent the next two weeks helping my mother get things in order.  Dealing with insurance issues, bank issues, social security issues.  All of the financial things one must do when dealing with the death of a spouse.  Through this all I made the decisions.  I made the choices.  I told my mother what to do.  And she politely did as she them.

And two weeks later I went home.  And I went about my business.  I had dinner with friends.  I spent time with David.  I lived.  And sometime around three weeks later, I broke down in tears.  And as I was crying I realized that it was the first time I had been allowed to grieve.  I was so busy taking care of my mother, my brother and everyone else that I hadn’t taken care of myself.  And so I curled up in the fetal position on my couch and cried.  And cried.  And cried.

And it’s five years later and we are all living our lives.  My mother has a new job.  She gets up every morning and goes to work.  She’s learned to cook for one.  She does her own shopping.  And she has learned to live on her own.  She does quite well.  We’ve grown quite close since then.  I talk to her almost everyday on the phone.  The only time I tend not to is when I’m working a lot at the restaurant or in tech for a show.  But I leave messages for her everyday.  She likes this.  She brags to people that come into the office she works in, that her son calls everyday.  She also brags that he sends her flowers and bought her a computer.  And she lives.  And for the most part she’s okay.

I too have gone on with my life.  I went to grad school that fall.  I moved to California.  I did all the things that I planned to do.  Even now I get nervous when my mother doesn’t answer the phone when I call.  I get even more nervous when several hours go by and she hasn’t returned the call.  I realize that one day I’m going to get another call and I’ll have to go through this process again.  And once again, I’ll have to take care of everyone around me.  And of course I’ll do it.  It’s what’s expected of me, and it what’s I do.

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8.5 Thick Uncut Cock for PnP/BB into WS and FF– 28 (Chelsea)

My mother loved her computer.  She told me the guy who delivered it kept asking if she was okay because she was all choked up.  Of course she yelled at me for buying it, but I knew she would.  I did tell her that she had five minutes to get all of the old stuff out of her house.  It has to go.  The two computers, the two printers, the two monitors, the cables…everything.  It has to go.  My mother is a pack rat of the most serious kind.  She doesn’t throw anything away for fear it might be useful one day.  But I told her the only condition of the gift was all the other stuff had to go.

And now on for more amusing things.  I spend a lot of time watching TV these days.  And I spend a lot of time on the Internet.  TV.  Internet.  TV.  Internet.  (Does anyone know why these words get capitalized?  Just curious.)

Did anyone know that you could order in boys?  Yeap.  You can go online, write a profile, wait for someone to find you interesting,  invite them over and then get into all sorts of trouble.  I didn’t know this.  Believe or not I haven’t done anything like this since 1901.  Seriously, it was probably 2001 the last time I did this.  In NYC it’s quicker to just go out and get it.   When you go out there are no endless emails back and forth.  No fuzzy pictures.  No hot men with 12″ dicks showing up at your house weighing 310 with a 4″ penis.  Nope.  In NYC it’s more efficient to do your shopping in the store.

But let’s just say that your ankle is broken.  And you are bored at home.  And you are kind of going stir crazy.  Perhaps then, and only then would you actually try shopping on line.  And so for the past few days I’ve tried this.  I’ve discovered a few things and want to point out a few things.

1.  Is it really possible that only people under the age of 35 have sex in NYC?

2.  Does every man in NYC have a worked out body with six pack abs?

3. Does every man in NYC have an 8.5 thick uncut cock?  If this is true I’ve been looking in all the wrong places all this time.

4.  By the way:  I’m not Latino, a bro, a thug, a nigga, I’m not KOOL, or kewl, i’m not down wit dis, o up wit dat.   I’m just saying.

5.  Does every gay man in NYC weigh 182 with a 32 inch waist with a swimmer’s body?

6. Not everyone lives in the WV, EV, UWS, LES, FD, WS, PS, BX, or UES.

7. Not everyone will PNP or BB.  Nor do they ski.  (For any novices out there that means…Party-n-Play, Bareback or do coke.  I had to ask what the last one was because I’m too old to know.)

8.  Do people really think that it’s all about the cock shot.  Not speaking for anyone else but a clear face shot of a cute boy goes a lot further than the picture of his 8.5 thick uncut cock.

9.  I find it interesting today that the one site I was on which asks your status, only has one person who is positive out of the 150 on the site.  Am I to believe that men who are positive don’t cruise for sex.  Or should I believe no one’s owning up to it.

10.  The fact that you have an HIV test from 04.26.08 that says you are negative, is only true if you haven’t had sex in the six months prior to the test.  And it still won’t keep me from playing safe.

11.  Don’t tell me you are DDF (drug and disease free) if you let men cum in your mouth.  You might be.  You might not be.

12.  I’m sure someone thinks your pictures in women’s underwear are hot.  But it’s not me.

13.  I don’t know how to break this to you.  But if you are sucking dick, getting sucked, fucking or getting fucked BY A MAN…YOU ARE GAY!!!!  At the least you are BI.  It is impossible for you to be straight if you like doing these things.

14.  If you list in you profile that you don’t do drugs with the the comment 420/Poppers okay.  Perhaps you haven’t realized they’re  drugs.

15.  No one really believes that it’s your first time being fucked and you’ve decided that it should be a complete stranger you’ve met online.  It’s probably the 5th time you’ve been fucked today.

16.  I’m not generous.  I can be generous, for instance I bought my mom a computer for Mother’s Day.  I won’t be generous to you.  I won’t give you 20 bucks to touch your cock.  I won’t give you 50 to suck it.  I won’t give you 75 to let you trim my hair.  I won’t pay a 125 for an in call massage.  I won’t pay 175 for an out call massage.  And I won’t pay 200+ for whatever else that gets you.  I may be old and overweight, but I refuse to pay for it….yet.

17.  I don’t care that you are on the DL (down low) if you don’t send me a picture we aren’t going to play.  What do you think I’m going to do.  Come and find your girl friend and show her a picture of your face?  Really?

18.  You don’t go to hook up websites to meet your next boyfriend.  So if you are on Manhunt with a screen name of hungnhornytop with a picture of your 8.5 thick uncut cock.  You are probably not looking for a date.

19.  Changing your screen name from yesterday doesn’t mean I don’t remember the photograph especially since it’s you modeling your 8.5 thick uncut cock.

20.  And last but not least.  Get off your pretentious high horse.  We are both on the same site.  Doing the same thing.  Don’t think you are better than me and definitely lose the attitude.  If you are not interested in someone be polite and say so.  But don’t think just because you have an 8.5 thick uncut cock that you are the end all be all.  You will someday be over 35, and you’ll lose your six pack, and someone with a real measuring tape will show you that your 8.5 thick uncut cock is 6.5 inches and was circumcized when you were born because you’re Jewish, not Latino.

It’s fun learning new things when you are stuck at home.

Below is an ad I found on Craigslist today in the NYC>m4m>manhattan site today.  Trust me this is completely safe for work unless the oysters are bad.

It’s verbatim.  I cut and pasted it into the post.

Oysters on the Half Shell – 32 – (Chelsea) pic

24 oysters, such as Malpeque, Kumamoto, or Belon
Crushed ice or rock salt
Cucumber Mignonette Sauce, recipe follows

Scrub the oysters under cold water with a stiff brush to remove the dirt, especially in the hinge area where mud has a tendency to get trapped. Next, find a durable thick cloth and fold it over several times to create a square; this will steady the oysters as you shuck them and also protect your hand. Using the towel as a mitt, place the oyster, cup-side down in the palm of your towel-covered hand with the hinge facing you; have a small bowl handy to catch the delicious juice. Insert the tip of an oyster knife or dull butter knife as far into the hinge as it will go; don’t jab it in there or you could break the shell. With gentle force, twist the knife back and forth to pry the shell open. Using the knife, cut the muscle away from the top shell, bend the shell back, and discard it. Run the knife underneath the oyster to detach it completely, but leave it in its shell. Tip out the briny liquor into the bowl and pour it back over the shucked oysters. Nestle the oysters in a bed of crushed ice or rock salt to keep them steady. Spoon the cucumber mignonette on top and serve as part of a raw shellfish bar.

Cucumber Mignonette Sauce:
1 cup rice wine vinegar
1 shallot, minced
1-inch piece fresh ginger, peeled and grated
1/2 hothouse cucumber, peeled and minced
Several turns freshly ground black pepper
1 handful fresh cilantro leaves, chopped

In a small bowl, combine the rice wine vinegar, shallots, ginger, cucumber, black pepper, and cilantro; mixing with a fork. Cover and chill for at least 1 hour or up to the day before you plan to serve, to allow the flavors to come together. Serve with raw oysters and clams.
Yield: 1 cup

I don’t know if the guy posted the recipe in the wrong section, if he was being funny, or if he’s completely insane.  I do know that I cut and pasted it onto my computer to show you.  About an hour later there was a recipe for corn, but I didn’t think that was as funny.

Tomorrow I’ll post a picture of my 8.5 thick uncut cock.

A Trip ’round Robin Hood’s Barn…

With any luck my mom’s computer will be delivered tomorrow. Unfortunately she leaves early on Fridays so she might miss it. She’s going to flip out when she sees it. Today she actually called about getting real internet at her house. With any luck she’ll move out of the 1990’s any day now. She was very excited to find out that if she bundles her cable, phone, and internet together it’s only about 15 dollars more than she already pays. I did tell her to make sure that this wasn’t just a one year deal and that it was the permanent price. And more importantly, when I go to visit her this summer I’ll be able to keep you updated as to all the fun I’m having.

Speaking of computers. I ordered my mom’s computer from Dell. I would have gotten her an Apple but I was completely convinced that she’d never be able to figure out how to use it. Yes, I know it’s easier than a PC but she’s already figured that out and it took my brother months for her to understand what little she knows. And so last Saturday I called up Dell, talked to the sales rep “Melinda” and discussed what I needed. I decided after talking to her, what I needed and placed the order. Start to finish it was probably close to an hour. When we were done I felt great about doing this for my mom and just knew that she would be excited.

When I ordered the computer I used my mom’s home address for the shipping address. I didn’t even think about the fact that she wouldn’t be there. After some consideration and after talking to a couple of people, I decided to change the shipping address to my mom’s office. I lied to her to get the address(I’ve been lying to her a lot this week).

So I called up Dell on Sunday night to change the address and boy was I in for a surprise.

Seems once you place an order with them nothing can be changed. Not the product. Not the extras. Not the address. It simply cannot be done. I was sort of taken aback. How can you not change something. It’s been less than 24 hours, it’s on the weekend, and it’s sure as hell not been possible to actually get the thing in the mail. I don’t know the name of the woman that I was talking to but she was snippy and didn’t like my tone. I was being pretend nice. Which is over exaggerating everything I said. She explained again and again that I couldn’t do it. So I asked to speak to a supervisor. She told me that she would check to see if one was available. I told her I would hold. She came back and told me that the only one available was on another call couldn’t speak to me. I told her that I would hold. She told me that I couldn’t speak to her. I told her that I would hold. She told me that I couldn’t speak to her. I told her that I would hold. She told me that I couldn’t speak to her. I told her that I would hold. She told me that I couldn’t speak to her. I told her that I would hold. She told me that I couldn’t speak to her. I told her that I would hold. She told me that I couldn’t speak to her. I told her that I would hold. She told me that I couldn’t speak to her. I told her that I would hold. She told me that I couldn’t speak to her. This went on for while. My roommate was laughing just at my end of the conversation. She finally told me that she could give me a number, I could call to speak to a manager. I jotted the number down.

So my one and only last question to this woman was, “Can I cancel my order.” She told me she would check. She came back on the line and said “Yes I could cancel the order.”

I got off the phone and immediately dialed the number to register the complaint. It was a Dell recording. I don’t even remember what it said. I do know that it was just a recording and it disconnected me at the end of it. It certainly wasn’t a number to register a complaint.

So I was a little pissed. I was a little annoyed. My roommate told me that I was probably more annoyed with my foot than I was with the lady on the phone. He probably was right. But I stopped watching TV and I sat down and wrote a snarky email…

Melinda,

I called today to try and change the shipping address of the computer system I am buying. I realized that since my mom works during the day that I should probably have the system sent to her office. I’m doing this because the last time I bought a Dell product it was left on the doorstep for anyone to help themselves. When I called I was told that I could NOT change the address. Seems that once I’ve ordered the computer nothing can be changed. I find this a little annoying. It has been less that 24 hours since I placed the order, and I can’t imagine that on Sunday of all days, the computer has been built, packed, shipped and is on it’s way to Kentucky. Perhaps you are able to work that fast. But it’s my guess that you do not.


What I WAS told, is that I can cancel my order. So I would like to do just that. Cancel my order AND THEN, I would like to repurchase the computer system to have it shipped to a new address. This seems a little like going around Robin Hood’s barn to get to the place I want to get to, but if that’s the way your award winning customer service is set up, so be it. Of course this only confirms what several of my friends have warned me about concerning purchasing a Dell Computer these days.

The other thing that I would like to have happen, is that I would like it all entered into the computer so that all I have to do is say yes to whatever else I need to confirm and NOT be on the phone for another 60 minutes to repurchase the computer. If this is not the case, then I will consider buying a new computer elsewhere.

I will be available all day tomorrow so please call when this request has been processed.

Thanks,

Maddog

In case you are able to just change the address it is as follows:

Phone number stays the same.

By the way, I don’t appreciate the customer service person I spoke to today not being willing to let me speak to a manager. And even more infuriating was the idea that she gave me a number that didn’t actually get me through to anyone, but instead gave me a recorded message and then disconnected me. Once again, it seems that Dell’s award winning customer service is at play.

My roommate told me I shouldn’t send a snarky email. But I was pissed. And annoyed. And I’d never let that advice stop me before. So what the hell. I proofed it a couple times and hit send.

Perhaps it’s just me, but doesn’t anyone else find it strange that I could get what I wanted by taking up almost 3 hours of their employees time and inconveniencing the hell out of me, just to change the address.

Anyone?

I do have to admit that Melinda called at exactly 9:01 the next morning, terribly afraid that I was going to cancel the order altogether. It took about 15 minutes to re-process the order and I was on my way.

Makes me think perhaps a well placed letter to Verizon might be just the thing.

By the way, I wouldn’t mind going ’round this Robin Hood’s barn.

I LOVE THE BABY JEEEEEZUS!

I think I must be sitting over a puddle of water, because I’ve been bitten about 15 times in the last 30 minutes by mosquitoes. My legs are two big welts that are itching like nobody’s business. I have two huge bites on my face. What I would like to do is go jump in the shower in cold water and just rinse off. But to get the foot condom on, ease myself into the tub etc…would take 30 minutes. And it’s one thing to rinse off in cold water. It’s completely different to sit in cold water. The bites do take my mind off the itching that has become my left ankle.

And that concludes my complaining for the evening.

I should mention that when I woke up on Sunday morning, whatever had happened to my cell phone had fixed itself. I turned it on and it worked as if nothing had ever happened. Needless to say, it made me very happy. I was not looking forward to schlepping downtown to spend money I don’t have on a phone. So I didn’t have to go get a phone. I said a little thank you prayer. My friend Tom seems to think the reason bad things keep happening to me is because I’ve pissed off the Baby Jeeezus. So I asked for forgiveness. And what do you know the phone worked. He’s probably on to something.

It might also be the good Karma I’ve been putting out. On Saturday I called my mom to tell her that I would not be sending flowers to her for Mother’s Day. I usually have a bouquet sent to her on Friday or Saturday before. I told her this year that I had ordered her a gift, to do something different but that it wouldn’t be in until after the day. I promised her that she would like it.

But then today when I got up, I started thinking that she deserved flowers after all. So I called the florist in Kentucky that I’ve used since the early 90’s and ordered her a big spring bouquet. I had it sent to her office so that everyone would see what a great son I was. (I’m not stupid here). Of course everyone thought it was her birthday. But she straightened them out. These were for Mother’s Day…from her son in NYC. She likes throwing that fact around..(evil grin). She said that they were beautiful and as always said that I didn’t need to do that. But I try to do what I can to make her happy and let her know that I love her.

Which is why I ordered her “real” Mother’s Day, Birthday, Christmas present in all on Saturday. I’m buying her a new desktop computer. She’ll yell at me for doing it. She tell me it’s too much. She’ll insist that I send it back. But what can she do? I’m as hard-headed as she is and don’t respond well to orders. The computer she’s been using is my old desktop that I purchased in 1999. It’s as slow as Christmas…actually it’s slower. It takes forever to open a program and then has to think about every command before it does it. It actually was fine for what she used it for until the modem went kaput. There was a bad storm in the fall and it knocked out the phone lines. When they were repaired the modem no longer worked. We think that there was some sort of power surge, etc. that might have been the culprit. She had my brother’s ex-boyfriend (yes, he’s gay too…no grandkids for mom) look at it and he said it would cost more to replace the modem than the computer was worth. My mom doesn’t use it much. She uses it to email friends and family and to send pictures to everyone. ( I got her a new Powershot Canon Digital Camera for Christmas. I have to keep reminding her that I’m the good son). She also has been organizing all of her recipes into one location so that she can find them, and they are written down so that one day we’ll be able to have them. She also plays computer games like nobodies business. She’s fucking excited as hell that Grand Theft Auto 4 has been released. Her idea of fun is shooting up some bad cops in NYC.

(I hope you know I’m kidding). Although she does play a lot of games like solitaire etc.

So in about two weeks a Dell computer will be dropped off for her. It’s being delivered at work (which is a story in and of itself). Why at work? She’ll be at work when it’s delivered unless it’s the weekend AND it let’s everyone know what a great son I am. (Got to keep up the appearances). It is coming with everything. The computer, monitor, speakers, keyboard, mouse, printer. It will all be there for her. And she’ll bitch about it for a couple of days but what I’m really going to tell her is that I’m being selfish because she can’t send me pictures of the new baby cousin if she doesn’t have email. That should calm her until she’s used to it.

And then last but not least. I kind of told a little white lie to her. I told her that if she signed up for DSL that when I get back from Oklahoma I’ll start paying for it. (That’s not the lie). When I’m waiting tables it won’t be a problem. I convinced her that if she got DSL her current computer would work just fine and that she wouldn’t need a modem. (That’s the lie). What I really want is for her to have a real connection to the internet. So that it doesn’t take four hours to load one web page. Once again I’m being selfish. I’m going to be staying at her house for four weeks this summer and I want a real internet connection. I’ll go crazy trying to make these posts with dial-up. I would end up punching the computer. And where would that leave us? It really didn’t take much to convince her to do this. She was supposed to do it today, but I don’t know if she did. I’m going to call tomorrow and see. I’ll stay on her butt until she does it.

And then last but not least…more good karma…

My mom and I share a cell phone plan with Verizon. Except for the part of her having to have a NYC number it’s fine. It was either she have a NYC number or I have a KY number. Since I was paying I won. So we’ve been sharing this plan for well over four years. With Verizon you can talk to other Verizon customers for free so my mom and I talk for free. Most of my other friends including my friend Todd, my roommate, Michelle all have Verizon so all of the people I talk to the most, I talk to free. So with all the free talking that I get, plus all the regular talking we do, my mom and I use about half of the 1400 minutes we pay for. Unfortunately, the next least plan is 700 minutes and we average from 600 to 800 minutes a month. Thus we pay for more even though we don’t use them all.

There is a point to all of this.

I have an aunt, my mom’s sister, who isn’t doing so well financially. She has never worked more than babysitting and now that she’s in her 60’s she doesn’t work at all. She’s losing her sight because she’s diabetic and so it’s hard for her to get around. My uncle Tom, her husband was diagnosed with full blown Parkinson’s Disease in 2003. It continues to get worse and although he still tries to work on the farm that he’s worked on for 30 years it’s hard for him. I’m convinced the only reason they still pay him is because he’s been there so long and they feel guilty. So with neither of them really able to work it takes every penny they have to live. So my aunt was telling me that they have a “pay as you go” phone that they use that costs them about 30 bucks a month. And if you do the math that’s 360 bucks a year. And I have 700+ minutes a month not being used. So I’m going to order my aunt a phone and send it to her. That way she’ll have a cell phone which they don’t use that often, and hopefully will be able to save the 30 bucks they spend on theirs each month. It’s really not a big deal, but I think it will mean a lot to them.

It’s all about the Karma.

So surely the BABY JEEEZUS is not still mad at me.

The House Began To Pitch…

My mom called today while I was at the doctor.  It was unusual for her to call in the middle of the day on Wednesday and she knows better than to call me before noon so as soon as my appointment was over I called her back.  Turns out she was off today and was calling to tell me about the storms last night.  As most of you have heard by now there was an insane number of storms that moved across the south last night creating a path of destruction.  My mom was calling to tell me about the damage in Central Kentucky.  Of course by the time she was half through with her story I was completely annoyed with her.

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Seems she went to bed as usual last night and went sound asleep.  Around 3:00 a.m. the thunderstorm that was happening outside woke her up.  According to her, it sounded pretty severe.  She had been awake maybe three or four minutes when the tornado siren just outside her house began to wail.  This is where she pissed me off.  Instead of taking cover or at least being prepared to do so, she went to the living room and turned on the TV.  She then proceeded to watch TV until the storm was over sometime later this morning.

Perhaps I’m over reacting, but it seems to me that if you receive a warning that your life might be in danger, you should heed it and take cover.  You should not plant yourself in front of the TV beside a huge ass picture window and watch the proceedings on TV.  She doesn’t have a basement so she should have at least been hiding out in the bathroom or her bedroom closet.   She kept laughing at me when I was scolding her today.  I think she thought I was kidding about all this.  I kept telling her that I was not.  I was dead serious.  She won’t give a fuck what’s on TV when her ass is being blown down the street.  Ugh.

I was equally annoyed when she told me about my aunt’s reaction to the storm.  My aunt and cousin live in a little community about 10 miles outside Lexington.  My cousin’s son who works third shift called his mother to tell her that the alarms had been sounded and to take cover.  She immediately ran to her other son’s house a few doors down that has a basement.  Before she left, she called my aunt who lives next door to her to tell her to get up and come to her son’s house.  This is what pisses me off.  My aunt refused to go because she was not going outside in the rain.  How fucked up is that?  As soon as I was off the phone with my mom I called my aunt as well and yelled at her.  I told her she wouldn’t care much about the rain if she was lying under a pile of rubble that used to be her house.

Clearly no one in my family was hurt in the storms.  But it annoys me and scares me that they don’t listen to the warnings.  I would have hated to be awakened this morning by a phone call telling me that anyone in my family had been hurt.  And although there are no guarantees, there are precautions a person can take to limit the amount of harm that occurs.  Little things like going to a basement, or a cellar, or into a bathroom, or a closet.  Covering yourself with blankets, or a mattress.  Not sitting in front of the picture window waiting for something terrible to occur.

Perhaps I care too much.

And I Did Nothing…

I did something I today that I rarely do.  I didn’t leave my apartment.  There was no reason to,  I really didn’t want to, and it was so nice and warm here that I said “what the fuck,” made myself comfortable and didn’t go anywhere.  As I said this rarely happens.  Usually after a couple of hours I start to go stir crazy and have to get out.  But not today.

I didn’t wake up until almost 2:30.  Now before you start scolding, I didn’t go to bed until almost 5 a.m.  I was up late reloading software onto my computer.  I still have a couple of programs to go, but I have to find the discs and serial numbers first so that might take a while.  Unfortunately both programs are used for my design work, so I need to find them soon.   So anyway, I slept late, got up and turned my coffee back on.  It had a brewed long before I got up and had already cut itself off.  While drinking the coffee I talked to my mom and my friend Michelle.

After the phone calls I switched to Diet Coke, wrapped myself up in a blanket on the couch and started catching up on DVR shows that I had recorded while I was in Maine.  I got caught up on episodes of Chuck (which is my favorite), Dirty Sexy Money, and Journeyman.  Luckily with DVR you can fast forward through the commercials so it’s a little more fun to watch.

After TV, I spent some time reading blogs and answering emails.  At that point I had decided that I was going to go downtown, so I took a shower.  I also gathered my laundry to take downstairs to get it done, moved it as far as the front door and changed my mind about going out.  So I lit some candles, planted myself back in front of the TV and called it a night.  That’s where I was when my roommate came home, and that’s where I was until about 10 minutes ago when I started writing this post.

It’s actually been a nice day.  Who knows maybe I’ll do the same again tomorrow.  I don’t have to work again until Saturday, so maybe the ticket really is to do absolutely nothing.  We’ll have to see.

A Maddog In The Country

It’s 10 p.m. on Sunday evening, and I have spent the last three hours sitting on my sofa enjoying being back in New York, in my own apartment.  And it the most amazing thing, not one person has screamed “Motherfucker”, not one person has made disparaging remarks about “Mexicans” or “Niggers”, the temperature in the apartment is well above freezing, and there isn’t a well meaning mother shoving cookies in my direction telling me to go ahead…”have one more.”  Perhaps you can already discover the differences between my life in Kentucky and my life in New York.  If not, well I’ll spend a couple of paragraphs explaining.

I was hired about six weeks ago to do the lighting for a musical at a small college in Central Kentucky.  I worked at this school when I lived in Kentucky years ago and was very aware of the limitations.  They were however, willing to pay me a decent sum of money to come to Kentucky for 10 days and design the lights for their musical.  They also provided me with transportation from NYC to KY and a rental car to use while I was there.  The school was close enough that I could stay with my mom while I was there and save everyone some money.  And thus I went to Kentucky for 11 days.

This is the longest I’ve been in the area since my father died.  I’m usually only there three or four days at most and in the past year each visit has been less than 48 hours.  This is perfect for me.  I love my family to death but I can only take them in small doses.  And when I say small doses.  I mean small doses.

We’ll start with my mom’s house.  My mom lives in a modest ranch style home that was built in the 1960’s.  She and my father bought the house about 8 years ago.  It was too much house for them then, and it’s way too much house for my mom now.  Unfortunately, I have been unable to convince her to even try and sell it.  She’s convinced that she’ll have no where to go if she does.  As long as she makes the payments, she’s got a roof over her head.  The only problem is it REALLY IS WAY TOO MUCH HOUSE for her.

My mother has never been a good housekeeper.  I didn’t grow up in a house where everything was in it’s place and there was no dust on things.  Once every six months or so, my mom would take the day off work and scrub from top to bottom and the house would be perfect.  For a day or two.  To this day, it’s the mode of cleaning that I use.  I keep things somewhat put in place.  And then every six months or so I scrub from top to bottom.  For my mom though, this no longer works.  She’s almost 70 and not in the best physical shape so cleaning at all causes her great pain.  She does the best she can but it’s not very good.  I’ve offered to try and help hire someone to help her out, but she says no.  She also won’t allow me to help when I’m home.  As you can tell she’s very stubborn.

All of this translates into a very dusty, not very clean house.  Which for me, means that my allergies are in full force by the time I drop my bags in my bedroom.  This trip, I started popping Claritin-D before I got there which helped some.  But still there were several nights that I sneezed well over 50 or 60 times, before I was finally able to get comfortable and fall asleep.  The other reason I have allergy problems at my mom’s house is that her roof leaked for well over a year before it was discovered and repaired.  I would bet money that there is an insane build up of mold in her house.  I’m surprised she’s not sick all the time.  But except for her physical ability to get around she’s great.

My mother is also a obsessive worrier.  There have been many times in her life that she’s become overwhelmed with things in her life to the point of making her sick.  The day I got my driver’s license and drove for the first time by myself, she fainted in the grocery store.  A little dramatic yes, but that’s my mom.  Since my dad died the thing she worries about most is the cost of fuel.  The cost of gas for the car, and the cost of gas to heat the house.  For this reason, she won’t drive anywhere she doesn’t HAVE to go to.  And she keeps the thermostat set on 52.  At least that’s what it was on two nights ago when the temperature outside was 21.  Needless to say, I froze my ass off, and that was with four blankets.  I finally convinced her that I was freezing and she boosted the temp to 62.  Not a lot better, but it was some improvement.

And then, when I get up, there is more candy, cookies, sweets, etc. to feast on than any person needs to have.  My mother’s dining room table is covered with bags of different kinds of candy (none of it was for trick or treat) at least three or four kinds of cookies, then there are pies, chips, ice cream, pop tarts, crackers, popcorn, etc.  It’s a disaster area for someone who likes food as much as I do.  I think I gained 10 pounds this week.  I tried for about the first three or four days until I gave in.  And then I said fuck it.  It was just too much to pass by and not help myself to it.

All of this and I haven’t even gotten to Thanksgiving Dinner.  My mother decided that since it had been exactly 10 years since I was in Kentucky for Thanksgiving, that we should have our family gathering on November 10.  This way I could be there, everyone was available to come and it would be just like Thanksgiving…only earlier.  As of yesterday, I realize that I never want to attend another family function ever.  I just don’t like them.  I don’t like the people.  I don’t like the people.  I don’t like the people.

Any of my friends who have met any of my family will tell you that there is a serious disconnect between me and my family.  It’s clear that I don’t fit in and it’s often suggested that I was stolen as a baby and that’s why.  My friend Michelle has made these assumptions, and my friend Todd is just baffled by it.  So what happens when I get together with my family… I sit around and pretend not to be offended by the bigoted racists remarks that are made.  There is constant talk about the Mexicans who live next door and across the street.  I won’t get into it here, but they are not kind remarks.  It gets even worse when we talk about the “little colored boy” who lives down the street.  Or the “bunch of niggers” that were at the Wal-Mart the other day.   I’m only able to do this for a short time, until I blow my fuse and piss everyone off.

It wouldn’t be so bad (well it probably would be) if this didn’t all take place at dinner.  We are supposed to be having a dinner of Thanksgiving and people are talking about this stuff.  Then in the middle of all this the word “motherfucker” is tossed out 6 or 7 times.   Then Ronnie calls Tony a “pussy” and then Scott gets pissed off and calls Jessie a “prick”.  And then everyone gets mad because Scott is being mean to his children.  Oh, yeah, each and every one of the bigots has bred insuring a long line of bigots to come.

And at some point, I decided I just want to be home.  Not at my mom’s house, but home in New York.  In the privacy of my home.  Where I can have civilized conversation, without insulting half the people in the room.  Where I can sit and be me without being judged and without people thinking that I am better than they are.

And that my friends was the family portion of my trip to Kentucky.  By the way, my mom is NOT one of the racists at the table.  She’s actually very progressive and very liberal.  Which sets her apart from the rest of them as well.  I’ve yet to figure out how that happened.  I do know that it drives me crazy to be there, and to be there for 10 days is mind numbing.  But I managed and I didn’t yell at anyone, and for the most part everyone was happy.  Well sort of.

A Wonderfully Wonderful Wednesday…

Okay, so maybe I over reacted a little yesterday. I’ve had the best day today and it was all without TV, air conditioning or a microwave.

I was awake before the alarm went off this morning to take my friend Michelle to the bus station. She was taking a bus to Boston to catch a plane to Michigan. I was up and ready to go way before she was ready. We got there and I dropped her off no problem. I then headed over to the bay thinking I would walk this morning instead of later in the afternoon. I was just about to start when I realized that if Michelle had any problems getting to Boston she’d have no way of getting in touch with me so I changed my mind and came home. When I got home I fed Max and then promptly went back to sleep. I was still in bed when my roommate called to chat. I lied to him about still being a sleep not wanting to seem like a slug. I don’t even remember why he called now.

After the phone call I got up and went downstairs. It was a beautiful morning with not a cloud in the sky. I let the dog out and then came in and made breakfast. One of the things I’m having to learn how to do on the South Beach Diet is to eat breakfast. I’ve never been much of a breakfast person. I usually settled with a computer. My roommate turned me on to a Canadian TV show several months ago called Slings and Arrows. I watched season one while I was in Iowa. And have watched season two over the past couple of days. It’s a great show about a theatre company in Canada. It’s very funny, even if you don’t know theatre. If you do it’s even better.

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After finishing season two, I got dressed and took Max for a walk. The above picture is of Max from last summer. She loves walks like there was nothing better in the world. In fact you have to spell the word if you are going to say it and aren’t actually doing it. The minute you mention the word “walk” she starts to bounce and prance like a two month old puppy. So off we went. The walk isn’t very long because she tires easily but it does take us down past the water, up by the shirtless construction workers, over by the shirtless landscapers and then back home. I’m sure you are getting the theme.

We got home and I was going to get ready for MY walk. But I looked in the front room and the window seat in the bay window and People Magazine were calling my name. I just had to find out how Lindsay got herself into trouble so soon after rehab. I probably read about 15 pages of the magazine sitting on the window seat with the cool ocean air blowing in with Max settled at the other end of the seat. Next thing I knew an hour had passed and both of us had been asleep. When I woke up the shirtless boy from across the street was talking on the phone. I was three for three today.

After the nap I dressed for my walk. Since I’ve been in Maine I walked the back bay everyday. To walk from home is about 5 miles and unfortunately takes you buy the water treatment plant. So most days I drive to the bay and walk from there. It’s 3.5 miles around and takes about an hour to do. It’s a beautiful walk with trees and homes on one side and a view of the city from the other. And the best part…you guessed it. Lots and lots of shirtless boys. My favorite today was about 6.3 with beautiful hairy well-defined pecs with a washboard tummy and legs that went on forever. He was perfectly tanned with a little goatee and smiled as he ran by. Luckily he passed me again on his way back. I went a little early today so there weren’t as many boys. If I go between 5 and 7 the place is packed with them. It’s definitely motivation to get back into shape.

It’s kind of like this around the bay.

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After the walk, I came home and showered and shaved. For those who know me, you know I HATE to shave. I do it about once every two or three weeks. I felt like it was time today. So I shaved and then took a really long hot shower. The wonderful thing about the bathroom here. They have a HUGE claw foot tub that I plan to use in the next couple of days. I’m thinking a wine glass full of Diet Coke (I can’t drink wine on my diet) and a good book and Max lying by the tub. It’ll be heaven.

After the shower I headed off to the movies. I had looked up a theatre about 8 miles from here and Mapquested it so I was all ready to go. I left plenty early in case I got lost or there was a problem. Turned out the directions were exactly right. I got there about 6:30 and sat in the parking lot talking to my mom. She was on her way to senior citizen night at Kroger, her local grocery store. Seems the first Wednesday of the month anyone over the age of 60 gets 10% off their groceries. She waits and then buys everything she can for the month. I can hardly wait for such pleasures.

After the conversation I went in to the movie. I saw 1408. It was good. I’ve come to realize that I like scary movies less and less as I’ve gotten older. They aren’t as fun as they used to be. That being said it really was a well done movie and the lighting was perfect and I think John Cusack is great and cute so the scenery was nice. It has a surprise little ending and leaves you wondering a little at the end. It was a lot of fun.

After the movie I came home and did something I haven’t done in ages. I actually cooked dinner. Not just microwaved something. Or did something easy. I made dinner. I had grilled chicken that I cooked on the stove with spices and a marinade and then I sauteed spinach and had green beans. I finished it off with a tossed salad. It was nice. It would have only been better if I could have had a nice glass of wine with it, but that will come.

After dinner I started watching Casino Royale. I stopped to get a Diet Coke and ended up being side tracked by writing this post. I’m gonna go finish it now. After all Daniel Craig is shirtless and BEAUTIFUL. What’s not to like.

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As for the diet. Today is day seven. I have been doing great so far. I don’t know how much weight I’ve lost because Michelle hid my scale. She told me I was being too obsessive about my weight each day. I know, I know I’m not supposed to weigh everyday bit it’s hard not to. So I won’t know about the weight for another two weeks. In the meantime I feel better than I’ve felt in weeks and I feel thinner. I don’t know if I really am, but I feel like I am.

Hope everyone else had just as wonderful a Wednesday.

Day Forty-Eight: Oklahoma

img_0208.jpgThis is it. It’s over and done. I have one more night to spend in the dorm and my lovely twin bed. One more night of drunken revelry. And then it’s no more. Tomorrow I load my two VERY large suitcases into my friend Pete’s car and we leave the lovely state of Oklahoma. Can this really be true? Have seven weeks passed so quickly and now my wonderful time is done? Who would have believed it.

I thank all of you for coming on this little journey with me. We’ve had our ups and downs but through it all we prevailed. And before you know it, it will be time for us to do it again.

Next year’s season has been announced. And then re-announced. And then announced again. Right now it stands at “Into the Woods”, “Candide” and “Pirates of Penzance”. Two days ago instead of “Candide” we were doing “The Boyfriend.” Who knows what it will end up being. I’ll keep you posted. In the meantime I just need to find work to tide me over till next year’s summer season.

Not much else to report today. I drove 2 hours each way to deliver costumes back to the rental place. It wasn’t much fun but wasn’t too bad. I was able to catch up on some phone calls and do some singing in the car. I was there and back in about 5 hours. After that I went by my favorite little theatre to see if I could get into any trouble, but there was none to be had. I thought maybe one or two boys would like to send me off with a smile but it was not to be. Then it was back to the dorm to freshen up for dinner. The director wanted us to have dinner before I left so said “of course.” I did tell him it would need to be cheap since I have about 100 dollars to get me home. I have my past four paychecks sitting in my computer bag. So I have money. Just not on me. He agreed to pay for dinner and I didn’t argue. We went to the little restaurant we had gone to before because it had a patio and he could take his dog which has been at the sitter since the summer began. It was a very nice evening. We returned back to the dorm to find it deserted so we watched TV for about an hour. Slowly the crew started returning and suddenly the place was a madhouse. There was an insane amount of energy abounding. Everyone was joking and in a good mood. The one girl on the tech crew, the Indian girl I mention a few posts ago was supposed to leave today to fly back to NYC, but her flight was cancelled. So she was back and our group was complete. We had several beers watched some more TV and then headed over to our redneck bar to do one last shot. It ended up being Jagermeister. I hate licorice but I was told I had to do one. About ten minutes later I was done. The bar was smoky and loud and I was tired. A couple of us wandered back over to the dorm to find that Hello Dolly was being watched in the lobby. Being absolutely the gay man that I am, I plopped myself down in front of the TV and watched until they sang the show’s title number.

Now I am here getting ready for bed. Tomorrow morning I have to pack, clean my room and load the car. We are supposed to be on our way at 11:00 is tomorrow. But we have a number of things to do before we leave, like get the oil changed and go the bank. I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s not more like 1:00 or 2:00 before we hit the road. It’s about 12 hours to Kentucky where we are staying tomorrow night. I don’t know if I mentioned it yesterday but we are driving to my mom’s house tomorrow. That way I get to see her, even if it’s only for 12 seconds and we save money on the hotel. It’s a win/win situation. From there we drive north into Ohio and then across into NYC. When it’s all said and done it’s a 24 hour drive. For about 10 minutes today I was regretting not flying home. I’d be there by 9:00 tomorrow night, snuggled into my queen sized bed. Yum.

So once again thanks for joining me on my journey. Stay tuned because next week I go to Maine for a month.

Day Twenty: Oklahoma

Why am I up at 2:15 in the morning on a school night.  It might have something to do with the fact that I didn’t get officially out of bed until 5:30 this afternoon.  Yes, it’s official, I am a slug.  I wasn’t asleep the whole time.  I was awake and cold.  Then awake and sleepy.  And then finally awake enough to make phone calls.  I spent from around 4:15 till almost 6:00 on the phone.  I talked to my mother for almost an hour of that time.  Yesterday was Father’s Day and I forgot to call.  Before you ask, any of the father holiday’s get her down since my dad died and I should have called but I completely forgot about the day.  So I talked to her and let her go on about the weather, the relatives, etc.  I figured since I forgot yesterday, I’d let her talk as long as she wanted to today.  Based on the conversation, I think she handled the day quite well.

I also talked to the girl whose subletting my apartment today.  She called because she needed my bank account information to deposit a check that I needed to have deposited.  The whole story.  I asked my roommate to do it and he said sure.  Unfortunately he forgot the checks this morning on his way out the door.  So he called the sublettor and asked her to do it.  She said sure.  For some reason she thought she could deposit my checks using here ATM card at the bank.  She was going to write my account number on it and then deposit it in the machine.  I have no idea what she was thinking.  Love her heart, she’s sweet but she’s not the most Brilliant bulb in the box.  So she called me to get the account number from me.  I explained to her that she couldn’t do that.  That if she used her ATM card they would put my check in her account and since it was already 6:30 she couldn’t go to a teller.  By this time I was a little snippy.  Today was my day off and I only had 5.00 in the bank, which is my own fault but I was snippy anyway.   Unfortunately this will end up costing me thirty bucks because my account is now overdrawn.

And the reason it’s overdrawn is because I had to eat and I’d already decided I was going to the movies so I had to have money.  I ended up eating with the stage manager and assistant stage manager at Applebee’s.  It would not have been my first choice but one of them had a gift card that needed to be used.  All the food except for the mashed potatoes was kind of gross.  After dinner we went to see Knocked Up.  I loved it.  It was funny through out and many times it was laugh out-loud, applaud funny.  I think it was so funny because it was so honest about relationships.

After the movie I came home and wrote a letter of application.  I still don’t have work lined up for after this little stint in Oklahoma and there’s a perfect job in the northeast that I would love to have.  I am rewriting my standard letter because the old one wasn’t doing the trick.  Hopefully this one will or I am going to be living on the streets.

So now it’s 2:28 and I’m going to bed.  Oh, and one last thing.  The tech director forgot to schedule time in the theatre so although I let him use my crew on Saturday I don’t get to work tomorrow to play catch up on the show that opens on Friday.  Fuck.  Fuck.  Fuck.