Tipdin

Aside from the usual basics of honest, trustworthy, employed, tall, dark, handsome, and hairy.... I have come to realize that I have an insatiable need to touch and be touched, so he would need to be demonstrative. I also need someone with an excellent sense of humor. If he loves to theater and dance, so much the better. (Not ballroom, although that would be nice too, but I meant more like in a discotheque.) He'll need to be a good money manager. If he doesn't like old houses, there's no way our relationship will work - period. Family oriented is another big thing - my family is very large and they are always around. Gotta love dogs - can't be without some of those.

The love he gives to me provides me with a friendship that I never thought possible. Happiness seemed beyond anything for which I could hope, forgiveness is what I begged to recieve for being gay. He generously offers joy like I’ve never known; it fills me with hope. After our first night, there was a new day such as I could never have imagined. For the first time I knew the warmth of sunshine, the kind of sunshine that soothes one to their very soul. The wisdom he demonstrates, he does so gently and patiently. Each little nickname, an endearment that makes me tingle with pleasure. Such tender, lasting love makes me weep with gratitude. OK, that was right off the top of my head. My Words: Love Family Respect Playfulness Happiness Health Tranquility Music Nature Touch

There is nothing that your partner could have done. Believe me. As sad as it is, there's no need to make things worse by feeling some kind of responsibility. Speaking from experience, I can tell you that if someone is truly suicidal, there is almost nothing one can do to prevent it. It is very, very sad. The hurt you and others feel must be horrible. However, your friend's suffering is all done now. No matter how we leave this world, it is into the loving embrace of those that wait for us on the other side. And no matter who you are, there will be others there, waiting with open and loving arms.

A serious reply: I see myself in many ways and want so many things that I cannot count them all. However; the number one items for each question: Who am I? I identify myself as the gay man that uncovered and tracks my family genealogy, who hopes to leave an interesting and significant trail of documentation of my life. What do I want? To have an amazingly realistic and embarrassingly intimate - accurate - depiction of the real me in my documentation of my life. Both of those questions explain a great deal about my personality and how I have lived my life. Many people are remembered through their descendants, but I do not have any. In my own way, I suppose, I have tried to find ways to be remembered. ...even if it is as the goofy old gay uncle or cousin who was obsessed with genealogy and documenting everything - EVERYthing. (Including the sh!t I wouldn't want people to know while I am alive!)

There are so many moments that I could choose; however, the first one that came to mind was the day my grandmother called all of her children and grandchildren to her side like a Queen summoning her subjects. My grandmother was a formidable women and to most of her family, she was exceedingly conservative with her love. For some reason, she treated me like a King. She was dying of lung cancer, and when she knew she had very little time left to live she gathered her family around her, then one-by-one she said a private goodbye to each of us in her sitting room. When my turn came, I sat down beside her, and she told me that she knew that I was gay - in spite of everyone trying to keep it a secret from her. She said that she loved me for being the kind, honorable person that she knew me to be. Almost nothing else was said. She held me while I cried. It is the most tender, direct affirmation I have every received. I love her for NOT saying that she knew I was gay and loved me anyway...! "Anyway" would have meant that she loved me even though I was flawed. She gave me one of the greatest gifts of my life.

Well..... I thought about blaming it on my Alzheimer's but that seemed worse!

My area is in the midst of a heat wave. We're at 8 degrees, that's above normal for this time of year. We're down to about four feet of snow now remaining on the ground.

It was not unusual for me to have half a dozen books going at one time, but I have found as I get, ...more mature in years... (*Cougholdfart) I can't keep track of everyone anymore. So I now read one at a time. The down side is that if it's a good read, it's over too soon!

OK, I changed my mind. I'll wear a bow-tie - but only with my birthday suit.

I agree that in some ways her books are targeted as young people. However, I sure know a lot of adults who read the books, and they enjoyed them as much as their children. Perhaps they enjoyed them more, since they can look for deeper meanings and lessons. For me, the high poetic prose is usually the reason I don't read the usuals that get studied in Lit class. ...snore....

Oops, would you say this louder so that my lit instructor hears you? We're studying JK in lit class, specially, the why and how of the Harry Potter series phenomenon. Does this mean I don't have to do my homework...?!

If I have to wear a tie - I won't go. Hell, they're lucky I got dressed at all!

My family and friends had no problem with my being gay. I was the one that had a problem with it. I got over it - eventually.

I'm a dog person. I have a miniature schnauzer, an unusual all white one.

A fine read, indeed! Robertson is the clan to which I belong. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Clan_Donnachaidh We have documented the family lineage back to the year 950. Currently, I'm researching what it would take to have The Court of Lord Lyon grant me armorial rights. Even though I am an America, I would like to have an official coat of arms.

When I need to get away from my own life, I dance. Doesn't matter where, or to what, I dance. Sometimes I dance slowly, sometimes I dance wild and fast. Sometimes, it's me and mu iPod, alone, in the park, looking foolish, or sometimes it's just me looking foolish at the dance bar. But I dance until I'm exhausted.

You made me chuckle. But sorry, I prefer hot to cold. I didn't think that Flagstaff was not so bad....but I was on the north side of the canyon.

Pretty? PRETTY?! Everything is dead and covered with dirty snow. I HATE WINTER! Give me a scorching desert and I'll be happy all year round.

When I was 15, I felt and behaved like I was 30. At 30, I felt like I was 20. Now, in my fifties, I still have the emotions and thoughts I had at 20, but my body behaves like 75, or perhaps more like 95! I'm still perving on the cute 20 year old guys, but when I get up to chase them, I have to grab my cane and oxygen! A moment ago I was 20, and now I'm an old rusted hulk... WTF happened?!

I usually print, in all capital letters; too many years as an architectural draftsman, I guess. But I enjoy writing. In fact, as a left-handed person going through school, I learned to use my spiral notebooks in an unusual way. I hated my hand resting on the spiral so I started writing backward. Everybody shook their heads, thinking I was crazy, but it worked. My hand wasn't smearing the lead or ink, and I can read backward as well as I can forward. Even today, in my college classes, people know me as the old man who writes his notes backwards. I think, however, you're probably correct, that either writing or printing, or both will eventually go away. As technology and customs change, humans will do more of their everyday tasks on a machine of sorts. The need for printing and writing will diminish. Signatures may be a fingerprint or an eye-scan, who knows...maybe an imprint of a number that is embedded in the skin at birth. My calligraphy practice was still worth the effort! I wrote stories for my kids and tried to make them look like illuminated manuscripts. If I live another 200 years, maybe I could start a business doing that...!

Woke up to 20 below zero. The dog won't even go out....

I would vote against an open relationship - they're a setup for disaster. That being said, I've been in an open relationship for 15 years. It was supposed to be closed, but someone (*Coughasshole) change that without my consent... Adjusting to it was extremely difficult and has put all sorts of boundaries in place that were not there before. If one enters into an open relationship, I would suggest extreme caution.

I think that penmanship is still important. Not AS important as it once was, but still somewhat important. If you need to print or write, you should know HOW to print or write - and that includes spelling. I liken it to doing math. This statement shows my age. In the early 1960s, spelling, printing, and writing were all PARTS of penmanship, there was no distinction made between them in those days. If you were going to print or write, then you were required to know how to spell - and make sentences that were grammatically correct. To do otherwise was a show of disrespect to those that were going to see it. If you cared about the person to whom you were going to show your work, respect them enough to show them work worth looking at. Further, to show others poorly done work, they would know that you were a less-educated person - a HUGE shame thing in those days. The philosophy of the era was very different from what it is now.

Frankly, adjusting to life with this partner has been one of the toughest things I have ever done. And I don't recommend it. Ironically, he's a therapist and I nearly became one, so we 'intellectualized' rather than got emotional. (Which, for THIS drama-queen, was REALLY tough!) But our financial entanglements were significant. ...as is his vengeful side. Rather than risking my financial future, I opted to preserve as much of our friendship as I could while making necessary adjustments to our living situation. It's been 15 years since the discover of his infidelities and we've both settled into our positions. I feel free to engage in a sexual relationship with others, without guilt. I go and play with friends without consulting his schedule. If he wants time with me, he understands that it would be just like asking any other friend for some of their time; they may or may not be available. I guess it's a room mate situation. We built a house and life together, and at this point, I'm just not willing to give up what has become MY dream home. He understands that his behavior has consequences. He's not an unreasonable person. He just cannot commit to a closed relationship. Now if we didn't already have a strong friendship, I wouldn't be writing this - I probably would have gone to prison for murder! But there was nearly 30 years of friendship FIRST, before the nasty bits.

I have read hundreds of books that said 'The End' and I wasn't willing to accept that. Just because an author decides to stop writing doesn't mean that I have to stop wanting to read. In fact, I think it damn selfish of authors! Don't they realize that I HAVE NO LIFE WITHOUT THEM! I COULD HUNT YOU DOWN, YA KNOW! So what, you think the world resolves around YOU?! Yea, sure, it's all about YOU, right?! HA! IF IT WAS ALL ABOUT YOU, THEN YOU WOULDN'T NEED TO PUBLISH YOUR STORIES IN THE FIRST PLACE! (OK, people, calm down. Listen to the sarcasm in my voice above.) Many readers don't want a good story to end. There's the compliment to the author. Nevertheless, many authors know that in oder to protect the 'goodness' of a story, it must have an ending. It's hard to have a perfect diamond if it's connected to ANYthing else.