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So I really have nothing to talk about this week in the Weekly Update preamble, so I thought I would throw out a joke and some useless trivia
Why did the chicken cross the playground?Spoiler
To get to the other slide
Did you know that giraffes only need 5 to 30 minutes of sleep in a 24 hour period They often achieve that in quick naps that may last only a minute or two at a time!
Now, onto what happened around these parts this week!
Monday, Renee gave us a great story review from @Puppilull:
Wednesday was the last day to get in the 2020 Anthology Blog Selections, so Renee revisited the blog from a couple of weeks earlier:
On Friday, Wayne popped by to give some new ideas to get some new ideas flowing from our heads to paper:
Wide Open Spaces by Renee Stevens *Premium*
Dancing on a Star by Ronyx
Family by Dabeagle
Adrift by Mann Ramblings
Denied by Cia
Headstall's Reflections by Headstall
Left Without Words by Comicality
Paleo Prompt by Parker Owens
Promptings from Valhalla by Valkyrie
Shuffle off to Buffalo by Cole Matthews
The Thousandth Regiment by AC Benus
tim's Bits and Pieces by Mikiesboy
Tragic Genius by Cynus
Wide Open Spaces by Renee Stevens
Shrunk to Fit by northie
A friend of mine posted the various flags of the LGBTQWTF alphabet soup idiocy. There's the good old reliable Pride flag that everybody used to like colorful with its rainbow of colors. Then there were flags for lesbians, bisexuals, transsexuals, asexuals, pansexuals and WTF-else-sexuals. Why do we need or want this Balkanization?
The first symbol I ever saw of the gay movement was the pink triangle. It dates back to the Holocaust. It was the symbol the Nazis put on gay people in the death camps where they were sent to be raped and worked to death. Researchers think between four hundred thousand and half a million GLBT people died in those camps alongside Jews, gypsies and other undesirables of Hitler's Reich.
Not long after the Holocaust there was another, quiet holocaust against GLBT people. It was perpetrated by medical doctors looking to "cure" gay people. It took the form of lobotomies and electroshock therapy. It cured sexual deviance by destroying the person.
We have forgotten that the Gay Movement was not started because of a bar riot in Greenwich Village. It was started by people who merely wanted to survive.
That puts the circus that Pride has become in some perspective.
Wow, I guess it's been a month or twelve.
So yeah, I actually had a minute to sit down at my PC and look over some of my old files and realized that I haven't written anything in almost a year (sigh). I guess now's as good a time as any to start moving again on my stories, since the wife and baby are out of town until Sunday.
I can't honestly say that I don't know why I haven't been writing lately, but it's the same old shit.. work, school, family.... everyone gets it. The fact of the matter is that I haven't taken the time to sit down and write because I never take time for myself anymore, and I think I've burnt myself out, so to speak.
That said, there's only one way that I know of to relax, and that's to sit down at my desk and either read or write. Preferably both, but if I had to choose right now, I think I'll write something. Not sure if it'll be good enough to post on my site here at GA, but if it is, I'll put it up.
Right, I am somewhat in a dizzy miffed off mood today.
So this one is a bit of a rant.
There is something that I really just do not get! What is it about sex with a child????
Right, sex is about giving pleasure and taking pleasure right? It is about enjoyment and climax and orgasm right?
It's about love and lust and emotions.
And you can get ANY of that from a bloody kid???
Ian Watkins today pleaded guilty to a series of depraved child sex offences, including the attempted rape of a baby!!!!!!!!!!!
Oh for heavens sakes man. Come on!
For those who don't have a clue who the hell Ian Watkins is, he is lead singer of the massive Indie Rock band The Lost Prophets.
They are a South Wales band, and as I used to live down that way, I've seen then perform at several gigs and concerts and really love their music.
The singer has always furiously denied the allegations which surfaced a few months ago in the wake of the whole Kiddy fiddling scandal that came to light when Jimmy Savile popped his cloggs.
Now ok, the allure of youth I can understand to a degree. A young man in his teens can be remarkably good looking and have curves and shapes that are not worn down by time and over indulgence.
But I am talking about a young man that's into the latter half of his teens.
In the UK the age of consent set by those that have wisdom in these things is 16. Now exactly what that is meant to mean, I am not 100% sure.
I guess, what they are trying to say is that by the age of 16, young people have some sort of understanding of what sex is and the fact that a whole load of emotions and feelings and all that other mumbo jumbo is tied up with it, even if they are not equipped or experienced to deal with it. So if they are going to get sexual, at least they are capable of some reason and sensibility.
Look, kids are going to be kids. They will want to experiment and try it out and get into mischief. Bloody hell, I did it, and I am pretty sure most of you did too.
We all did right?
But, for the most part, we did it with someone we chose, most probably with a peer or friend within our own age group, and if it was with an older person, that decision was probably made at a time when we decided we really wanted to find out what all this sex stuff could feel like when done properly, and with someone who had experience.
Am I being sensible when I say that this is normal, natural behaviour for a young person?
To suggest that a child, one that has not even entered into sexual maturity, or let alone puberty is sexually active and desires a relationship with an older person??????????
How do you get gratification for a kid that cannot even perform yet?
When I see people that I have looked up to and admired as celebrities and heroes abusing their position of trust and access, I feel really mad first and fore most, but completely disillusioned and let down. Why?
Look, this has been going on for ages, I know. It is a very dark and dirty part of our world. It is something we know about, hear about, but never really want to discuss or think about, because let us be frank, it is appalling and sickening to think that young, beautiful children are subjected to this wickedness.
So no one really says much.
But, the worms are crawling out the woodwork here in the UK recently. The police are doing a lot to sort this. About bloody time.
I just really needed to have a rant, and put my thoughts down on paper. I work in music, have always admired some of these people. How many times have I sung that song by Rolf Harris called Two Little Boys. It's even moved me to tears! Now, to find out he another of these men?
We live in a sad world. I suppose that stuff like this has always been there, but now that it comes out into the public domain so easily! It hurts.
Tell me, is there a limit to our depravity? Just let a kid be a kid for crying out loud. They have a whole life to grow up and get caught up in the shit that goes with the emotional roller coaster of sex. We all know this right? Our youth is a precious time, let the young enjoy and build treasured memories, ones like you and I have. Not stuff that they should NEVER have to be thinking about.
Meh, enough said, rant over, but just really needed to get this crap off my chest today. Thanks for listening.
Thought for today - "Virtue is bold and goodness never faithful." - William Shakespeare
Yes, it has been forever and a day since I added anything to the blog. I feel like one of those co-workers who leaves the office for a new job and promises on their mother's grave they'll stay in touch. Then you only see them when lightning strikes and you're in the same place at the same time and you swear once again you'll stay in touch, but in reality you know the demands of your job will never allow for it. That's a convoluted way of saying, sorry I've been so absent, but I've been crazy busy.
That said, I need to say thank you to GA and Caz Pedroso for nominating Chosen of Honorus for story of the month. Chosen of Honorus was the precursor to The Last Grand Master - the first book in the Champion of the Gods series that DSP Publications is publishing. It was/is the book that jump started my publishing career. I owe a big debt to GA for taking a chance on me and giving me the confidence to push out into the wide literary world.
There is a prequel to Chosen of Honorus - First Love - that is available on the DSP Publications site or you can find a link on my website. If you sign up for my monthly newsletter, there is a link in one of the welcome emails as well. If you want to sign up for my newsletter, you can use this link:
In addition, if you like Chosen of Honorus, there are now three more books in the series available from DSP Publication and the last book in the series will be released in 2018. Books 1-3 are also on sale now through the end of April. Here is a link to the sale page on my website:
Despite what I said above about being the co-worker who left, sometimes a little jolt reminds you of what you're missing. In my case, I realize how much I miss the people I met here. I think if I have time to socialize with fans on Facebook and Twitter, I can use some of that time to come here once a day too. I'm going to do my best to do that. That said, the new set up is going to take me some time to get used to so if I miss your comments, you can always email me - Andrew@andrewqgordon.com. I'm usually very good at responding to emails.
Thank you all again. It's humbling and flattering to realize people haven't forgotten you. It's a very good feeling.
PS In case you forgot what I look like or want to see a new picture of 'lil q (way more likely than wanting to see me) I'll post a few pictures in a few minutes. .
Wow, with summer here in the Northern Hemisphere, we are definitely seeing a drop in people online. Even I'm getting more sun.
I'm going to cut back on the number of blogs I'm doing for now and pick up again in the fall. It'll give me more time to do these silly summer homeowner things I'm suddenly stuck with. lol.
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Once upon a time… That’s how these things start, right? The line that starts the whole story. After that, nothing else even matters but getting to the happily ever after. I used to think I could see mine, out there on the horizon, but each time I think I’ve got it in my sights, something happens that shows me differently.
The settings and circumstances change, characters come and go, and there’s plenty of romance and drama to make it interesting. Even if you could predict how it ended, it’s so much fun to get there that you wouldn’t want to miss a thing, wouldn’t change a thing. And in the end, that’s what matters… that you lived and loved with your whole heart.
No matter how much or how well I plan, no matter how much I might work toward it or want it, the truth is that happiness is elusive, evolving, ever-changing. It’s conditional and comprehensive and you haven’t got a chance at actually attaining it without perspective. It’s different for each person, without justification, and the same. We’re all searching for it.
We pack up our hopes and dreams in our knapsacks, swing them over our shoulders, and head out into the great big world in search of it. Things happen on our quest, as they inevitably will, that make us change what we think will make us happy. Force us to examine our original plan or dream and decide if it’s still worth pursuing, if it’s still the thing that’s going to make us happy and whole.
So often, people hit a wall, and instead of figuring out how to get over it or around it, they just turn around and go back the way they came. We justify it to ourselves, the giving up, by telling ourselves that we were mistaken, that we didn’t really want that after all. The truth is it was too much work to learn to climb the walls. It was easier to just walk away.
That entire idea is absurd. Of course, we don’t know that then. Not only are we walking away from our dreams and our potential happiness, but we leave little pieces of ourselves behind every time we do. Living our lives as a fraction of our whole selves isn’t easy or conducive to finding the happily ever after we’ve been looking for. Worse, it’s actually more work in the long term to continually have to convince ourselves that we happily left those pieces behind.
Sometimes, actually, a lot lately, I wonder how much one person can take before they give up. It’s been said that you’re only given as much as you can handle at one time. I don’t know if that’s true or not, but I’ve been given an extraordinary amount. Definitely more than any one person’s fair share, then again, as I was often reminded as a child, life isn’t fair.
My life has fallen apart so many times now that I’ve lost count. Not really, but I don’t like to recount them. It’s not a contest and no one knows the rules. Does the scoring work like golf or like bowling? Does the survivor of the worst situation win, or is it the person who never had to find a way to exist in spite of the worst happening?
Being a party to the first group, having set aside my dreams repeatedly for the good of the cause, literally learning things the hard way, and learning to breathe with a broken heart makes a good case for the people in group number two. Still though, I wonder. In return for survival, I’ve earned an appreciation for making the most of each moment, for putting my whole heart and self into everything I do, being genuine, and the value of true happiness. That’s definitely got value, and it’s something the people in group number two will never have.
Without perspective, and a heap of optimism, it’s fair to say that a lot of people who have suffered some upheaval in their lives miss the things they were supposed to learn at the time. And that’s what life is all about, isn’t it? Learning the lessons, learning from the experiences, growing as a human being, and finding happiness. Not that it’s easy to remember that in the moment.
Often it comes to us in flashes, tiny pieces of clarity and knowledge that we grab on to and use to pull ourselves out of the ugly hole of despair. It’s a slippery slope, and for some, it takes years and a Sherpa to find their way out. Even with a trail of breadcrumbs and trail signs, it’s one of the most difficult journeys a person will ever make. One would think the third or fourth, or even the fifth time, you’d know the way out, but it doesn’t work that way. No one ever said life was for the faint of heart.
I rummaged through one drawer in my mom’s old, cherry wood jewelry box that sat atop my dresser before moving to another until I found it. It wasn’t in great shape when I pulled it out from amongst the old watches, the matching one I’d gotten for him a month later, and the shamrock pin I wear once a year. Tarnished and so scratched from years of wear, you could barely make out my name where it had been engraved on the front.
Still, I turned it over and read the inscription on the back of the very first gift he’d ever given me. It was to celebrate my 16th birthday and our one month anniversary. An ID bracelet, simple and silver, with a message straight from a heart experiencing those first delirious moments when you fall so crazy in love for the first time.
I wanted to wear it again, to remind me of what we once had, what we could have again, if he can find his way back to me. A reminder to soothe myself with hope when I’m so scared that we’ll never get it back, and because it’s the closest I’ve been to feeling his love in weeks.
I squeezed a little toothpaste into my hand and rubbed it between my palms a second before cleaning the bracelet the best way I knew how in the absence of any silver polish and wondered if he’d even remember giving it to me, remember what it said. Eventually, I silently admitted to myself that I hoped it reminded him of what he’d promised me all those years ago.
Forever yours. Love, Rich.
Hours later, when I was serving dinner, our daughter, Annemarie, just weeks from turning sixteen herself, noticed it and asked, “What is that bracelet?”
Unsure if I was relieved that she wasn’t complaining about the peas I was putting in front of her, or suddenly nervous that Rich had taken notice now also, I vaguely answered, “It’s mine. I’ve had it a while,” and handed Rich a plate of beef stroganoff that he eyed cautiously. He doesn’t like mushrooms or sour cream, but he’d have to actually speak to me to find out if it contained either. Instead, he just ate it.
Like any typical teenage girl who is all wrapped up in her own life, she let it go, and in an effort not to let me down, went on to complain about the peas. It was a welcome piece of normalcy, something I could count on in the chaos that had become my life. Besides, I like peas and beef stroganoff.
It’s equally horrifying and comforting to know where Rich and I were in our lives at her age, and knowing that she’s so far from that place. We were so sure at sixteen that we had it all figured out, or if not, that we’d conquer the world together. We’d show them, prove them all wrong. What the hell did we know?
There are two types of people in this world. The type who crumble in the face of a crisis, who panic and act without thinking, who let their fear and their emotions control their behavior and decisions, and then there’s the other. These remaining people are the logical type. They keep their heads when times get tough, are always thinking their way through several scenarios until they find the best one, and easily separate their emotions from their thought process.
That’s not to say that these logical thinkers don’t have emotional reactions to things. They certainly do, it would be inhuman not to. They just typically don’t act on them. As it turns out, intuition and emotional responses don’t usually lead us down the smoothest or the safest path. Certainly not the smartest.
Typically, it’s the outbursts of anger, the confessions of love made with such bravado, and the feeling as if you’ve just had the wind knocked out of you leaving you with a horribly painful sadness where you would normally find oxygen that can create the biggest opportunities to make the worst moves. I would have said decisions, but to be decisive requires thought, consideration, and evaluation.
Being a logical mind can be both a phenomenal power and a crippling weakness. To know that you’ll always know what to do and how to go about getting it done, to take things literally and to be able to count on that as a constant, and to feel the comfort that logic is your default setting can be immensely comforting in a world that changes faster than many of us can keep up with. Consequently, it makes it a major difficulty to let that default setting go and find enjoyment in basic things.
Personally, I can’t make it through most cartoons. Even if I could overlook the fact that there are talking animals who can lift anvils that weigh twenty times their own body weight or drive cars along the ocean floor, what I cannot discount is that the responses those cartoon characters have to whatever circumstances they find themselves in, become moot, ridiculous, illogical.
Instead of being entertaining, it’s frustrating. Possibly as frustrating as being the person on the couch next to me watching a movie or a TV show. Perhaps it comes from my depth of life experience, or because I’m a writer and a storyteller, or because, as logical as I am, I’m more in touch with my emotions and the emotions of those around me than most people, but whatever the reason, when I can predict the ending, most people would say there’s no point in watching anymore.
I disagree, for it’s there, in that moment when we’ve connected with that character enough to know what will happen in their future, that we learn about ourselves. How would we act or feel in that situation? What would we do? What would our next move be? Little lessons and explorations that can be learned and taken without consequence. A free pass.
Logical people watch everything, analyzing, organizing, forming patterns. They are supervisory and certain about what they feel is right or wrong. These people are easily adaptable and energetic, have a keen eye for details, and typically, a logical person is the decision maker. They are realists.
I’m not sure anyone but a logical personality could understand what it feels like to be faced with a situation that is anything but logical. To be able to do nothing to make it right or organize it so it can be dealt with. To be the one not making the decisions. There are no ‘right’ answers; there are no ways to best this dragon. The only thing there is in bountiful quantities is a frightening feeling of helplessness.
After 19 years, Rich has decided he's not in love with me anymore, started sleeping with a girl he works with, and has destroyed my dreams, my marriage, broken my heart, and crushed my children's entire existence with his selfishness.
After 19 years, I've crossed more things off my 'I Never Want To Experience This' List than my bucket list. Here's one more: I'm getting divorced.
This chapter is really hard to write for Book 2 of 0's and 1's, so I will share with readers its problem:
I feel like I can't skip an important event, but if I write it, I am never going to hear the end of it.
This will mark probably the darkest chapter I have ever written, maybe one of the darkest chapters on GA. I am making sure the guidelines are followed, nothing graphic or explicit, but the implication is more than enough with a dark imagination. And to top it all off, I have to make sure people know why it's needed for the future of the story and the future of the characters. This ain't gratuitous plot point, it's a revolutionary spark, a call to arms against an injustice that transcends LGBT fiction. It's something our society and many of us are guilty as indirect participants.
I call this chapter by a nickname, "the Crucible".
If this chapter gets completed, the rest of the story can follow, but it must be done right or nothing else after it will matter.
Anyone who has any ideas, thoughts, or is just curious as to what I am doing, feel free to PM me.
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Hello old friend.
It's just you and me now.
They are all gone, but their words repeat unending.
I hear their words, but they're long gone.
I don't care, I love him, I cant stay, you're uncaring, you're worthless, you're unlovable.
Hello old friend.
I have my plastic smile in.
Their shades haunt my days and torment my nights.
If you smile while you cut all ties they dont notice.
You're alone, you're unknown, you're unremarkable, they don't see, they don't hear, they don't care.
Goodbye old friend.
The clock stopped, and no more alarms.
Each day a new pain, a new scar, a little death.
I curl up on your tombstone now.
Who is the frail figure? What does he want? Where are his friends? Why is he alone? How did he become this?
Goodbye old friend.
I stand here one last time.
There are no tears or hugs for me. There is no warmth in this cold December. There is only hard acceptance in the end.
I've been a member of GA now for almost ten years, which might as well be a lifetime in the internet. I was 17, closeted, confused, and was just looking for any kind of escape from the miserable existence of high school in a small town. I met so many great people in those early days through chat, where I would stay for hours talking about anything and everything with whoever was in there. I learned to refine my debating skills in the old Soapbox, where ironically I was one of the most vocal conservative members. I remember some of the early stories I read on here that touched me: Viv's All I Wanted, and Camilo's The Perks Of Loving You. I would eventually meet my first boyfriend on this site, and we were together for over 6 years before we parted ways. I met up with two other GA members while I was on a trip to London, and enjoyed great conversation over two dinners.
I recently ran into that ex-boyfriend in a bar in New York one random Saturday night. In a city of 8.6 million people, you oddly run into those you know. We hadn't really talked or seen each other in years. I didn't even know he was living there anymore, and to be honest I didn't really recognize him all that much initially (to be fair I was a few vodkas in). We said a quick 'hey, how's it going' and kept right on walking. At that moment and for the rest of the night what had just happened didn't really register. I went and found my boyfriend, and pretty much forgot it even happened. Fast forward a few days, and suddenly the whole encounter became incredibly strange to me. How could someone I dated for over six years and lived with for almost 2 seem like such a total, insignificant stranger now? At one point, he knew me better then anyone else, but now years removed, he might as well have been a passing acquittance.
I'm not wishing to get back with him, as we really weren't meant to be together long-term. It worked great as teenagers and early twenty-somethings, but adulthood exposed the flaws. I learned a lot from him, and applied all that to my relationships afterward. I guess it just goes to show the fragility of human relationships and how totally they can change.
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I like blogging. I like just sitting around and thinking or chatting about a topic. Writing out my thoughts is nice because it helps me frame them in a more concrete way. It's nice just doing it in my head, but it's more fun and more satisfying on a computer screen...not on a piece of paper, physically writing sucks. Typing is nice though. Anyway, over the years I've grown thoroughly attached to this site and its members and whatever else I'm doing in my life I still enjoy a place to just sit and thing, and type about it, so I figure it might as well be here.
A few short updates about my life since I figure that's the least I can do before I ramble about inconsequential topics. The boyfriend and I are doing well, in exactly a week it'll be two years. Work is lovely this time of year. This is our slowest time of year, and since I work from home anyway, it mostly means that I can sit around all day doing whatever I like as long as I keep one eye and ear on my work computer. Not a prob
I've been enjoying my hobbies quite a bit as well. It's very hard to avoid reading. Despite being a technophobe I opted to get an Amazon Kindle (I once started a thread on these in the Lobby when they first came out! :-P) as well as finally jumping on the Ipod wagon. So anyway, I adore the Kindle, strongly prefer it to physical books. I go through a couple of books a week, which is a lot for me given what a slow, methodical reader I tend to be. Interestingly though, I also tend to read more on the Ipod than I listen to music or do anything else. The graphics, browser, and interface are much better on the Ipod (which I think is called an Ipod Touch) than they are on the Kindle. Which is fine because I didn't want the Kindle to be flashy and distracting. I kind of want it to be only good for reading books (and buying new ones), because that's all I want to do on it. So I read the books on the Kindle, but I've found that "web reading" is so much better on the Ipod than it is on the Kindle or the computer screen. The thing I don't like about reading for hours on a laptop that you're stuck with this big, heavy, bulky thing. A tiny handheld reading device like the Kindle or Ipod (or *gasp* a real book) is way better to read on. So with its flashy browser capabilities the Ipod is ideal for handheld reading...but yeah I keep getting distracted with games, music, and the rest of the internet when I use it, so I'm glad the Kindle's there for more hardcore reading.
Anyway all this reading has, unsurprisingly resparked my desire to write so I've taken that back up again. Unfortunately I have to admit that I don't really plan to post the stuff here. I'm hoping to attempt real life publishing and as a last result might try eBook publishing. In any case I don't intend to do it for years. I'm working on a series of books and I have no intention of publishing anything, or even showing it to anyone, until I have like the first four or five completely finished. That way I can make them as complicated as I would like since I can go back and add/remove things to all the previous stuff. I find that when I post online on a chapter by chapter basis, even if I'm pretty far ahead, I end up wishing I could change something, but it's too late (or at least feels too late) since it's already "out there." I'd really want to shoot myself if I had a great idea in book four that was being precluded by something I'd written in book one. So yeah, gonna wait and work a long time on these before they see the light of day.
This winter has been surprisingly pleasant. One of the best ones I've had in years. I've been lazy and energetic, like I get every winter, but I've avoided the anhedonia and enveloping numbness this year. Granted, I haven't felt like going out and partying, but at least I've felt like staying in and reading and writing rather than being disinterested in everything and marking time till spring.
The boyfriend and I have been living together about a year and a half now. Overall it's been remarkably smooth and pleasant. The main conflict comes from the fact that I'm a really tidy, organized person. I really am the sort of person who has a place for everything. I don't own any items that I leave in random places. What's more, I don't even acquire new items unless I can mentally figure out where I'll be keeping them. I definitely like for all items to go back to their designated places at the end of every use. The boyfriend on the other hand is the sort of person who picks something up, uses it, and then just puts it down wherever he happens to be. He'll think nothing of leaving the soy sauce sitting on the coffee table or at his desk indefinitely. That really doesn't work for me. I'm also the sort of person who won't even think about going to bed until everything is put away. Him on the other hand, when he gets tired that's it. Since I have to go to bed earlier than he does for work, that means that every morning I end up cleaning and tidying. Somehow I'm still always shocked by it too. My god! he left his half full glass of tea on the table next to saran wrap from something he opened! Somehow this just shocks me more than it annoys me. I couldn't have slept knowing it was out there if I were him.
I'm also generally just a great deal more organized than he is. I got really ticked off last month because he just up and told me that we had to drop everything and go visit his mom for her birthday. I like his mom, I agree that it's important to visit family for special occasions. What annoyed me is that I had zero notice, and why? Not because he forgot to tell me (although he probably would have ), but because he forgot her birthday was coming up at all. He hadn't known at all until his dad texted him. That also meant of course that he didn't have a present, and although I tried to insist that we just go pick something up on the way, he refused because "he doesn't like to get things just to get them. It has to be something he knows the person will like" and he didn't have any ideas. Which is fine, quite thoughtful actually, but that ship had sailed and personally I would have rathered gotten something nice, but generic than shown up empty handed.
Of course I'm not trying to make him sound bad or difficult to be with; he's certainly not. He's very thoughtful and agreeable. He's also quite a lot less set his ways than I am, and in all honesty he puts up with nagging, neurotic requests far better than I could put up with similar such things from someone like me. If he were as particular as I am about how things are done and where they go then we never could have put up with each other.
Yikes, I can't believe it's been, like, 8 months since my last blog! It's amazing how quickly life passes by sometimes ...
Anyway, since my last blog post, I closed on my new house, spent about a month dealing with contractors to completely renovate the whole place (quite the undertaking -- both in terms of the stress involved and the cost!) But, I'm all settled in and love it. The commute to work is awful, but living sort of out in the country is nice -- peaceful and quiet! Moving from a 600 sq. foot apartment to a 2,400 sq. foot house required me to buy lots of furniture and spend lots of time decorating. It's not all done yet (will it ever be?), but it's probably about 80% complete.
Work is busy, busy, busy ... and more stressful than usual lately. When I get home in the evening, I just want to crash on the couch and watch television (or just pass out from exhaustion). But, it pays my mortgage, so I can't complain too much.
On to more 'important' things, though ... Yes, I have started writing again. WISYA hasn't been 'speaking' to me lately, so I'm not sure at what point I'm going to pick it up again. I've 'tentatively' started a new serial novel, called "Home By Now" (unless I change). It's a bit on the 'dark' side, but I like how it's going so far. I at least want to complete a few chapters or more before I start posting, and I really have no clue when that will be, but progress (or something like progress) is at least happening ...
Final note for the evening ... I'm now reading the 'Twilight' series for the third time, and saw 'New Moon' on opening weekend. For the longest time, I refused to read the books or see the movies, but I finally caved when I was bored one weekend, and now I'm hooked! No, Stephenie Meyer won't be winning any literary awards anytime soon, but there is something really captivating about the story ... and it doesn't hurt that Robert Pattinson and Taylor Lautner are soooo dreamy! ;-)
Anyway, that's it for now ... Hopefully I'll be back again soon ... :-)
You and I, we have a strong bond
Like brothers, like lovers;
We disgust the world with our vain perversions,
our inane attachment with the word and the seas of heresy
part at our command revealing the shells of untruths hiding
beneath the silt of social justice.
Ecstasy beyond judgement is what we share
in the binding fallacy of corporeal pain
battling to win over the spirit.
Our ascension begins at the alter of ego.
Broken down pieces of the mirror of self-hate, we tread
upon our steps to immortality. Morality, ethics, civility, higher power
are all suspended in space as dwindling starlights, reaching us
from the outer edges of cosmos.
You and I, we have a strong bond.
Like brothers, like lovers;
We step over millions of corpses to reach the quintessential truth, the poesy of nature.
When I see you talking to others I think of it as betrayal
When I see you smiling with others I question if you are loyal
When I see you moving on with life going roundabout your business
I feel I have been left out from it all in order to hide your menace
I know the wheels are turning
I know the fires are burning out
Emotions are condensing in big chunks of ice
And soon it won't suffice to tell you that I love you,
that the earth only blooms for you,
that my breath begins & ends with you
And soon you will leave me for the others who make you smile, who kiss
you behind my back, smell your hair, bend you over to the road of infidelity
And it drives me mad, mad like a ragging bull,
Like a substance user craving his previous high
I can't stand them making you smile
One of these days I will tell them of your lies
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Does anyone else get hiccups a lot? I seem to get them a lot and I can't figure out why...I just hiccuped my way through some toast and it just makes eating seem like a lot of hard work...*sigh* back to the essay. It's so close to done, I almost just want to hand it in right now, even though it's incomplete so I can then come home and take a nap...
Also, my friend that I've not spoken to for like a year after we had an arguement and stuff should have got the package I sent her today... I hope she doesn't hate me...
In the early 70's, my family moved to Mississippi from Louisiana. I was enrolled into a military school to begin my high school years. At 14 and being a female it was quite terrifying. My first day to attend classes, I was as lost as a student during his first day on a college campus. The school I was going too also had boarding students and their dorms. It was a new world to me.
I'll never forget the first break of my first day. I sat on a bench alone pretending to be absorbed in a book. Someone plopped down beside me and said, "Hi, I'm Sandra Faye, but everyone calls me Sandi." That was the beginning of the first true friendship I ever had. We spent nights with each other during the week, all our weekends together and weeks on end during the summers between our high school years. We had our first drink together, double dated on our first date and she taught me how to smoke a cigarette.
My family moved back to Louisiana the end of the summer before my senior year. It didn't affect our friendship in the least. I still came back to Mississippi at least one weekend out of every month. We kept in contact almost daily. Even when I went away to college in North Louisiana, we still kept in touch. She was already working in a NAPA auto store. When I turned 20, I moved back to Mississippi and moved in with her. We both worked in the parts store for a year before I met my first husband and moved out from her house. My first husband and I visited with them a lot since we lived within 20 miles of her and her boyfriend, later to be jusband. My marriage only lasted 13 months..
I was her Maid of Honor in her wedding and played the piano at her sister's wedding. I even spent two Christmases with her family instead of my own because they were like a second family to me. My parents would come to their house on Christmas Day to see me. When I met my second husband, which is who I'm married to now, once again, we were apart. She and her husband moved about an hour away. We both had baby girls and kept in contact on a daily basis.
After three years of marriage, Jimmy and I separated for about six months. My daughter and I moved in with Sandi and her daughter. (She was separated from her husband also.) We were like extended family. When my husband and I worked out our differences, I moved back home and she and I kept in contact but since we both now worked time consuming jobs, we had less contact. But every year, on my birthday she called early in the morning. She never missed one. We'd meet for lunch every once in awhile when one of us was in the other's home town at the time.
Her dad died a couple of years ago and I attended the funeral. She and I found time to visit and it was as if we'd never been apart. She was the sister I chose for myself.
I could write a book here and not even tell a third of our history together. Sadness, happiness, mischief, but friendship beyond all friendship.
Sandi died of a massive heart attack yesterday. Her younger sister made sure that I got word of her death this morning. I'm shocked and heartbroken by the news. The part of me that was connected to her is shaken beyond repair at this moment. Hoping that writing this would give my heart a much needed breath of relief, I'm finding it even heavier and I know it'll stay that way for days to come. Her friendship is one that'll never be replaced. To me she'll always be that sweet little red-headed teen that plopped down beside me on that bench that day when I felt so alone and offered me the gift of her friendship.
Rest in peace my friend. An angel has been added to the heavens.
Thanks to those of you who have sent me e-mails, pms, or otherwise showed concern as to where the fuck I’ve been. To answer the first, most obvious question: I’m fine. Life has its challenges, and I have mine, but there’s nothing there that’s debilitating.
There are three major areas of my life that can impact my writing. My health/wellbeing is obviously one of those, but as I’ve said, that’s pretty good. The next one is the relative level of activity in my life, and I’ve had an awful lot to do. This looks to be a pretty active year for me. To do what Will does to JP, that means I’m busy. J The combined forces of work, home stuff, research, etc. are a bit crushing right now.
The third factor is my muse, or ability/desire to write. For some reason, that has temporarily left me. When I’m busy, but still want to write, I usually find time to do it, but my production fades. In this case, I really haven’t wanted to do much writing, so with the added pressures of real life, I’ve let my online life sort of drift unattended. And I’m finding that there’s really no fighting the relative apathy that envelopes me when I’m in this mode.
In the past, this has happened when I’m in a conundrum about a story, but I have a very clear idea of how I want to proceed with both of my series. With CAP, I have an idea of how I plan to end “Streak” and the initial parts and premise of the next story is already forming in my mind. With Bridgemont, it’s a bit more open-ended, but I have some pivotal events in store.
I’ve been feeling a bit more motivated lately, and I’ve actually done a little writing, but I’ve spent more time reading than anything, and that includes going back over my recent stories for reference. Spring Break approaches, so I hope that in the next month or so I’ll be productive again.
I really do appreciate all of you who read my stories and give me feedback, and I feel bad for leaving you in a lurch. At the same time, I know that you’ll understand life’s pressures, and how a perfect storm like this can really impact my writing.
Nine years. I've been a part of GA for just shy of a decade. I've seen it grow from only a few forums and some scattered author websites to a community of thousands of people across the world with millions of visitors every month. I was member 937 to join the site. GA is now approaching the 25,000th member. I joined this site on a random Wednesday and it turned out to be one of the best decisions of my life. The people I've met through this site have guided me and made me who I am today and I couldn't be more thankful. Without them, who knows where I would be.
From the first core group of regular chatters, I was hooked. Viv, Snowdog, Myr, Robert, Lugh, Nate, Krista, Vic, and so many more that I can't even list. They were there to listen to me bitch about high school homework, my first crush on a boy, getting my drivers license, my first relationship and subsequent breakup, graduating college, moving across the country God knows how many times... they were there to listen to me and help me through it. They gave me advice when I needed it and told me to grow a pair and man up when I needed that too. Meeting up with them in San Francisco and Dallas was a blast, but having them guide me through some of the roughest parts of my life was more than I could ever ask for.
I will be officially stepping down in all areas across the site. I will no longer be a moderator, admin, or board member for the parent company. It's been an amazing nine years, but I can no longer hold up my end of the workload and need to part ways to allow someone else to grow with the site as much as I have. The growth this site has seen is nothing compared to what else will become of it. The teams running everything behind the scenes are dedicated to making this site the best possible place for everyone when it comes to gay fiction stories, and I have no doubt it'll continue to grow for many years to come.
Without trying to sound like I'm accepting an award of some sort, I'd just like to thank everyone on the site that has made it what it is and made me who I am. I'm truly grateful for all of the conversations and guidance you've all given me throughout the years. I'll still be around from time to time and may even take a stab at writing some more, but for the most part, this is my final goodbye to Gay Authors. It's been a great journey, but it's time for me to move on with my life and see what else awaits.
Good luck to everyone on the site. I hope you find happiness and gain as much from being a part of this community as I have.
So, I would imagine that many members here wont remember who I am. i've not been active for a while because... well, life gets in the way sometimes doesn't it?
8 Years ago last week, I started a relationship right here on GA. I met Paya right here, and our friendship blossomed into something more. I was in the UK, he was in the Czech Republic. We had a long distance relationship for 2 years, before finally moving to London together 6 years ago.
This is just a quick stop by to where it all began, to announce that yesterday - We got Married. Yes, another GA wedding.
We were lucky enough that our friends from GA, Bleu and Jian, were at our ceremony as guests - I told them they were our GA ambassadors for the day.
Now... not to rush away, but a honeymoon awaits.
All the best.
A surprising thing I've come to realize, which shouldn't be surprising, is that a lot of my anxiety and depression is not actually anxiety and depression. I will not say I am not anxious or depressed. Going outside of my house, talking to people, trying to interact in a normal way is a source of constant anxiety. I've always had an uneasy feeling about other people when dealing with them face to face. I don't like it. It opens me to allowing another person to stare at me, judge me, form an opinion of me, and possibly reject me.
With that in mind, I've come to think that a lot of these emotions I feel that sometimes people pressure me to seek professional help for are not actually the emotions that are the real problem. I constantly analyze everything around me as well as within me. Following that train of thought leads me to believe that most of my problems in my emotional regulation of myself are not anxiety and depression. They are anger and frustration.
I don't voice these things because it sounds like a pity party. Why did this happen to me? What did I do to hurt someone else so badly that I deserve what has happened to me, as if there is some cosmic being doling out punishment based on my deeds? Why does he or she or they not listen to me, why don't they understand, why do I even have to try to make them understand? Because they SHOULD understand. Why is it that people tend to leave me or I tend to leave them?
As any person with half a brain would do, I think about this in terms of well, if you have a problem, learn from it. Figure out the pattern, figure out the mistakes, figure out how to move forward knowing what to do better. I get frustrated and angry a lot. It can be anything, but it's usually related to my interpersonal relationships, and the way other people see me.
It shows up in strange ways. The other day at work I was working overtime, which I was already annoyed about, because at the same time I had a million things on my mind. Primarily that my kidneys might be failing because my legs and ankles decided to swell like crazy, and I was already consigning myself to death. Turns out it was the medication I was taking, and it felt like someone dropped a bag of concrete onto my legs, ankles, and feet, and still feels that way (though most of the swelling is gone). But that fear caused me to be frustrated, angry, annoyed. I thought to myself that it is insane that I am sitting at a desk pretending this is a normal moment when I could be going through the last moments of my life due to organ failure and I will never go on dialysis again, ever, so it was the real death moment in my mind.
And I got PISSED. I was so angry that my life is held hostage by me working and keeping my insurance and keeping up with things that seem insignificant in comparison to "remember the last time you almost died, remember how that happened, remember how you remembered everything one moment and then the next moment you woke up a month later and they had to give you a new organ? Remember that shit? REMEMBER IT?! Why the fuck are you sitting here apologizing to crazy random stranger for something that was not your fault, when you might be dying?!"
Frustration hits. The voices in my head keep telling me "hospital, hospital, hospital, you're dying, right now, if you don't go now they'll tell you it was your own fault you're dying later, but the hospital is a horrible place so only go there if you really are dying. Are you dying? Fuck if I know." Which makes me want to call out of work and just go because while I am so ready to just call it quits I'm not REALLY quite ready. I haven't lost all hope of everything quite yet. It's a strange place to be. It's like a conversation with death saying kill me, but not yet. Kill me now, but not really right now. It hurts, but not enough I want to quit. I want to quit, but I don't.
All the while, I have a customer taking me forty-five minutes past my overtime shift. Why? Because of something that was not my fault or the customer's fault. It was an epic fuckup of doom I was dealing with that two managers didn't know how to fix and they brushed aside what was going on because they couldn't fix it, and being me I was like oh hell now, I'm pissed now, let's SOLVE THIS MOTHERFUCKER. Which it did get solved. Btw, for your comparison, usually I can get a customer on and off my phone in two to three minutes total. But I was not about to let that go once I got my teeth in it, I was like NO, this is bullshit, I am dying here and you give me this, you give me THIS?!
And I realized, that anger and frustration are bad, bad things that have no place in the world, just like shame and guilt. I was more incensed because of the synergestic effect there. I was pissed, my customer was pissed, and together we turned into one pissed off frustrated freight train that was going to solve this goddamn problem. I started being snappish at no one, because in my line of work you can't snap. You have to be calm, collected, cool, reasonable, reassuring. But he heard the cracks in my facade easy.
You ever started working on something for someone and got so pissed off about the roadblocks that they start losing their anger because yours overshadows theirs? That's what happened. I was ready to fight. I was completely prepared to snip someone down to half their height if they dared cut off my path to a fix for this person, because I'll be damned if I stayed 45 minutes after work to lose. Heads up, if your pissed off customer tells you to calm down, that should be an eye opener.
So I thought about why I reacted so strongly. What made me get to that point of unyielding rage that I was going to make something happen no matter who stood in my way? And as stupid as it fucking sounds, as inane and simple and absolutely unbelievable it came down to the AA saying HALT. I was hungry, angry, lonely, and tired. All at once. And I didn't tell myself to try to find a way to make the situation more bearable, more tolerable, more normal. I flew straight to crazy town.
Now, I have decided I will implement some things, and no matter what anyone else says or does, I will use these. And if work or anyone else has a problem with that, then they can take it up with me by submitting it in writing and giving me about three weeks to respond so I don't say something snappy and mean.
Which brings me to the first thing. Wait. Just wait. Don't say or do that. Just wait. And that wait can feel interminable, but it is worth it. Count to ten, recite a poem in your head, take a deep breath, do a mundane task like counting backwards by sevens, and if you can take your focus off for a moment that lash out moment will pass. It also gives you time to think about the second thing.
Jokes. Fucking jokes. Just don't look at it like a life or death, don't look at it as a personal attack, don't look at it as THIS NEEDS DOING NOW AND WE HAVE TO BE SERIOUS. No, we fucking don't. Things can wait. And things can definitely wait if there is even a small smile to be coaxed out of a situation. The world needs more people smiling and laughing instead of yelling and screaming. There is no point in going to war over a situation that can be laughed at. Furthermore, humor inspires camaraderie with those you are trying to engage, so why not use it? We can al act pissed off, but it takes effort to turn a situation on its head and laugh at it.
Third, abandon your high principles. Nobody fucking cares. Don't move contrary to your values, but don't stand on PRINCIPLE. That is a fool's errand, and a great way to get knocked off your high horse. Speak your truth calmly and quietly, and do not allow yourself to respond to attacks in kind. Don't get mired down into an argument over what is right or wrong, but focus on what is BEST. The path of least resistance is usually a good one, and if modified a tiny bit, can allow you to hold your values while passing through. And by no means am I saying keep your head down and ignore injustice when it rears its head, but I am saying that you can pick your fights while making your opinion known in a productive manner.
Fourth, and this is the most difficult for me; be kind to yourself. How can I expect everyone around me to respond to me with anything other than derision when that's all I hold for myself? The same judgment I hold for myself when turned outward suddenly becomes so much more hospitable, caring, genuine, concerned. It makes no sense that I rub my own nose in my mistakes when I'm so willing to forgive them in others.
Fifth, quit deleting what you want to say. Quit doing that. JUST STOP. That leads to frustration and anger, Jamie, so say what the fuck you mean to say in a way that isn't totally offensive and gives other people at least a chance to like or dislike you. Quit wanting to say something and stopping. Quit typing a text and erasing it. Quit doing things up until the moment you could be rejected. Believe people are also people just like you, that they feel the way you do, that they want the things you do. Okay that last one is more about the anxiety, but still, as I said, it leads to the frustration and anger.
Well, I've had enough of telling myself what to do by typing it out. Things have been grim. Finances are tight, I live alone now, I don't really know what my next move is. Which is a source of frustration because usually in the past I've had a plan. The plan usually involved a boy. Well, at the moment, I don't feel equipped to deal with any relationships. I want one. Not gonna lie, these past months, three relationships totally destroyed (albeit for good reason), so it feels like nothing will ever be worth fighting for again. Lemme clarify.
I don't ever fight for myself. I just don't. I have a weird variant of social anxiety disorder that allows me to find a person I like and fight for them. Ask me to go to the doctor by myself and I can find all sorts of reasons why I don't need to do that, why I can't do that, why I won't do that. Give me another person who needs a doctor and I would carry them, despite my crippled ass, and I would make sure they were taken care of. I need the motive, I need the all encompassing flaming passion that this person is important to me and I will do this thing I don't want to do because they need me to do it. I've done it a million times before. In fact, I think I might have an issue because I love doing that, I love seeing other people happy as a result of my actions. It is what makes life worth living to me.
And before you get all weird and say "Jamie, that's the wrong reason to live for!" Yeah I know, but, sometimes life makes us the way we are and all we can do is work with what we're given. I like to think of myself as someone who augments. Put me with the right person and I will raise them up into whatever heights they seek, and I will make sure they fly high, straight, and true. Just ask my ex, he's waaaaay better than when I met him, and I still worry about him even though we may not be talking lately and that might be my fault or it might be his fault (it's his fault, just in case you were wondering, and I hope that the bastard he's with dies in a horrible fiery car crash of doom because that fucker was mean to me but hahahahahahaha just joking cause humor is supposed to be an antidote to anger). That's enough purpose for me right now. I don't need to be great. I just need to find people who can benefit from me and I from them. Sometimes I feel as if that means I'm broken.
Yes, me feeling like I need other people makes me feel like I am broken. The great secret of my generation is that everyone needs other people, but we just pretend like we don't. I don't have to be at the forefront, I don't like the attention or acclaim of many. I think of all the interactions I've had and I come to this conclusion. I don't need to be great.
I just want to be kept.
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