Yeah, I have neglected blogging. Part of it that I spent the last three years in a job where, while I was in front of computers all day, I was crazy busy and unable to update at work. I have discovered a bit of a mini-blogging by updating my Facebook status 2-3 times a day. Those are fun...
SO yeah, I owe a proper update, but it's not gonna happen today. I have a moving truck showing up at my apt tomorrow to move me back to New Braunfels/San Antonio. It's a GOOD move, but I'm going to miss my friends in Houston... but it's an easy drive to come back, and I already have three weekend trips planned, so... don't cry for me.
I'll fill in more on why I"m moving and what all I have brewing early next week. (oh, and I'm dating an AWESOME guy, but that's not related to the move!)
Everyone who knows me knows I love musical theatre. So of course, when I get a chance, I see any show that's touring. San Antonio gets some awesome shows, and so does Houston. Right now, "Spring Awakening" is playing in Houston and I got to attend Friday night. According to my theatre-loving friends I attended with (and the Playbill) most of the male cast was from the Broadway show. This was appararent because the men's singing and choreography was crisp, clear and awesome. Alas, we had an understudy in the female lead, and she seemed... tentative and not as familar with the role. That said, it was an awesome show and well-done.
What is amazing is that this show was written in 1891. It covers some heavy topics: teen suicide, teen pregnacy, abortion, incest, child abuse, homosexulaity... more proof that the more things change, the more they stay the same. It's quite clear that the playwright was well ahead of his time.
Don't think, though, for one second that the show feels old fashioned. Duncan Sheik wrote the soundtrack, and it's poppy and wonderful. The music doesn't seem out-of-place at all, probably because of the contemporary themes involved.
Here's a music video that shows some of the show, one of the earlier musical numbers.
So my life is about to improve again. See, I did something INCREDIBLY stupid. I pissed off my housekeeper.
This means I haven't had any housekeeping or laundry service since early June. So I basically did a big mea culpa and begged for forgiveness. He's back in the fold now... spending a couple of days catchting me up, and earning a big bonus, which he more than deserves.
I think that one of the greatest life skills out there is to identify and get help with the things you can't do well yourself. SO despite the fact that I have a small one-bedroom apartment (it's FABU but small) I have employed a housekeeper for some time. While it may sound like a big luxury, I can tell you it's not... I'll eat cheap chocolates and skrimp and save so I can have help with my housekeeping.
See, I go feral pretty quickly. About two weeks after I ticked him off, I was living in a hovel. There's not any food mess (hell, I don't eat at home enough, and when I do, I make sure trash is taken out, etc) but there are just piles of shit everywhere. I will end up trying to sort the stuff and all of that, but it's almost as if I dont' possess the skill required to pick up after myself.
Yes, I know this is a great human weakness, but I think having identified and addressed it, I'm somehow less pathetic. Right? RIGHT?
One of the things I like most about the circle of folks I hang with is that I have friends of all ages. One of my favorite people turned 60 this year. Now, I have friends his age for-sure, but this man is different: He's been self-identified as a gay man since about 1966.
I had dinner with him tonight, and were discussing our various coming-out experiences. He doesn't always, but sometimes, you can get him talking...
What I can't get over is what it must have been like to come to terms with being gay back then, three years before Stonewall. Think about it... you know you're into other men, but you don't have any framework or context about what that means... there's no bars, no role models... no nothing.
As if that weren't difficult enough, there were laws against it, families were seldom so accepting as they are now, and you were likely to lose your job if it became public knowledge that you even WANTED to have sex with another man... it was VERY taboo.
I know that some people will argue that it's not easy nowadsys, either, and that's true. But when people my age were coming out, we had people like him who had written about what they went though, we had clubs to join and switchboards to call and radio shows to listen to (which, incidentally, my friend was hosting when I was listening, just as he hosts it today.)
So I don't really have a point, other than how happy I am to have a good life, and I really do think that the life I have is owed in a large part to people like him, who were not afraid to live their lives on their own terms, way back in 1966.
In 1999, I lived in Corpus Christi, TX. I had a good job and made decent money. Lived in an apartment that was across the street from the beach. Corpus is not an expensive city to live in and so I lived well. I was miserable.
It is not a time of my life that I think fondly of. In the last nine years, I've done a lot of work on myself. There is no question that I've come a long way. While I certainly made some friends in Corpus, I only lived there 10 months, so I didn't keep in touch with anyone.
This weekend, I went to Corpus for the first time since I moved away. As luck would have it, I was to attend a function in a bar that I once frequented (if by "frequented" you mean "drank away his life every night.") A few times this weekend, I ran into people I hadn't seen since I left. They all, each and every one of them, told me that I looked happy. I mean, I am, and there's no doubt that I was far from happy when I was here, but the perspective is nice.
I was quite happy to run into friend of mine, a tell-it-like-it-is lesbian friend of mine. She was and is a person I respect very much. And she, too, told me that I looked good... younger... and... happy. I was glad to hear it, but asked her, "Was I really so miserable looking when I was here?"
She told that it wasn't that I LOOKED bad (hell, in your mid-twenties, who does?) but that she always felt sorry for me because she knew that I wasn't happy... wasn't well. She told me she prayed for me when I lived there, and sometimes when she thought of me, she still did (which was... touching) and that laying eyes on me, seeing me "at peace" gave her joy. I was quite moved by all of this.
So here I am: happy (mostly) and healthy (mostly) and grateful I survived that time in my life and found the peace I worked so hard for. I know it's a process, and I know it can be fleeting, but I'm going to continue to work on it. I deserve that.
In the meantime, I'm not waiting another 9 years to visit Corpus. I found out that I had friends there after all. And it's a beautiful city... you should visit sometime.
