Things are good for the most part, but I’m just at an utter loss for why I feel like crying and just breaking down some of the time.

I woke up in the WORST mood. All I want to do is crawl into a hole and roll up into a little ball. I’ve gone to sleep and woken up to Damien for the past two days, and this morning I wake up on my own.

It makes me feel completely vulnerable to admit this, to say nothing of shit scared, but I literally hurt when he’s not around. He left to go home last night and I should have gone right to sleep - I was dog tired - and instead I stayed up for another hour at least.

I’ve never, EVER been this completely mad for someone who took the time to give it back. I should be completely happy all of the time. What is wrong with me?

Let me just say that A N Y O N E who wants to see the video of Daniel Pearl being murdered is completely FUCKED UP.

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A(nother) Robert and Tim Creation

Chandra Levy was a beautiful girl. She was to me just like all of the people who are killed every day, whether in planes crashing into buildings and those in those buildings, people killed in everyday life as a result of age and sickness, or people killed at the hands of monsters walking in disguise among us all. She was a daughter. A sister. A best friend. A niece. A neighbor. A coworker.

I long for the day when people who cause such pain and suffering for these victims and their loved ones are turned over to the families of these people . THAT, my friends, would be justice.

My heart hurts for her family and friends, and for her and what she went through in her final hours that day. Did she know the person that killed her? Was she scared? Did she know it wasw happening? Was it over quickly or did she suffer? Did she cry out for someone to save her? Did people hear her and dismiss it as children playing or someone playing a prank? Why the HELL wasn’t she found earlier? I mean, half of Washington DC was looking for her, everyone in the country was as well - and just by luck and nothing more, a guy out walking his dog finds her. I swear, some people could fuck up a wet dream.

Maybe it is easier for me to be a sounding board for this, I’ve experienced loved ones having been murdered, committing suicide, dying from illnesses, and dying in accidents. Granny was just buried four days ago, so grief is quite fresh on my mind. Maybe my sensitivities are higher to such things.

I don’t understand how we as a nation do not stop in our oh-so-busy-lives long enough to mourn tragedies like this and give it the thought I feel it deserves. Face it, people - you are all going to die somehow, some way one day - maybe sooner than you think. Who is going to miss you? Who might hear of your passing and think “Yeah, AND?

The only way to get love is to give it freely first. I’m tired of apathy, I’m tired of people taking things for granted and acting like nothing is cooler than them.

I spent time and had dinner last night with Damien’s mother and sister, and had the best time I have had in quite a while. I completely enjoyed watching them all play off of one another and can completely understand now why he worships that woman. She’s the type of mom that anyone would be proud to have. I managed to get a few laughs out of her myself - she has a completely infectious laugh, the kind you hear and want to hear over and over.

We’re taking Cole with us on Monday for a picnic/hike to Providence Canyon. We being Damien’s family, Cole, & myself. I can hardly wait for them to meet Cole. He’s also looking forward to his first hike as well.

Cole-oquiallism O’ The Day:

“Hey now, yoy a wock staye, getcha game on, go pway!!” ::booty shake::

I left work and went to the hospital this morning at 10AM. As I rounded the corner to the waiting room for the ICU, Uncle John was walking down the hall toward me. I held out my arms and held him for a minute or two, and he finally broke a bit. (I know it is in his nature to hold it in.)

Somewhere close to 11, the doctor came to take her off of the life support system. The family had to wait outside while they did this. Paw Paw, Maggie, Nathan, & myself did not want to go in. They came and told us a few minutes later that she was breathing on her own. Paw Paw jumped up and ran to her.

30 seconds after he walked in, she flatlined and her heart stopped. Her breathing ceased. Paw Paw started wailing and crying and then the most remarkable thing happened.

Her heart started beating again.

He held her hands and told her “It’s okay, Mama - you can go now.” Then that was it, she was gone.

She waited for him. She waited for him to get there before she would go. Granny was a lady. A lady always knows when to leave.

When Jenn came in to tell us that it was over, I kissed Maggie and told her I had to go. I called Damien and asked him to meet me at the house. I went home and ate lunch while I still had an appetite, and then laid down with him and told him everything. I showed him a side of myself most people don’t get to see. He’s just the sweetest thing ever, he just let me talk and stayed right at my side. It was just what I needed.

Right now, I’m fine. In a very real way, I’m relieved. Conversely, I’m crushed and I miss my Granny.

I want to thank each of you for your support and for your kind words as of late, they have done more for me than you know. Cheryl, Ryno, Patrick, Melissa, Jennie, Andrew, Renea, and especially Damien - thank you for your energy and love. It will be returned to all you the first opportunity I get.

I just got off the phone with Paw Paw. He was up at the hospital in the waiting room. I asked him to tell me what was happening, and all he said was “We’re waiting for the doctor to come in and take her off the respirator. She’s not getting any better and we have decided it is just time.” I tried hard not to, but I began crying and told him that I loved him, asking him if there was anything I could do. He replied, “Just pray.”

I would give anything, anything at all to believe in God right now. The one thing he needs me for, and I am completely useless to him.

If she goes before I can get there, I hope he’s with her - I cannot bear the idea of her going alone. All I want right now is to be where the family is, and to breathe.

I’ll miss you, my sweet, precious Granny. I hope I’m wrong and that there IS a heaven. My world is about to be a colder place without you in it. I can still feel your arms around me.

Last week, before I made the trek to Atlanta to pick up Uncle John from the airport, I went in to see Granny at the hospital ICU. She had an oxygen mask on to help her breathe and was still struggling to get breath into her lungs. She kept trying to talk to me, telling me how much she loved me and loved us all - especially Paw Paw. She told me very softly in between her fights for breath that she wanted things to work between Damien and myself - that I had better not be selfish and that I needed to tell him the same. I told her she could tell him herself that when she got home, that once she was feeling better and could get home to us that she could meet him and tell him herself. She just grinned at me and squeezed my hand. I told her that I loved her and that I’d be back as soon as I got home from Atlanta.

In the past week, she has had an angioplasty to clear the blockage to her heart. She’s developed an infection that the doctors are trying to treat, but cannot tell where it is coming from. Her liver and kidneys are shutting down. Right now, she’s on a ventilator because she cannot breathe on her own. She’s unconscious and not responding. The pneumonia has basically taken over her lungs and her blood pressure is all but non existant.

The doctors said this afternoon that at this point it was hour by hour. I was supposed to drive back to Atlanta again (4th trip in a week) to get John from the airport, but he got an early flight and I went this afternoon to get him instead. uncle Frank is driving in as I write this from New Mexico - unless he flies in he will not get here before Saturday. When Maggie got home this evening from the hospital, she told me that they’re giving her 24 more hours and then they’re taking her off of life support.

I took Damien out to dinner this evening, and when I took him back home I told him that I was conflicted about everything right now. Part of me is grateful that she will not take this pain and sufering anymore, because if she’s aware of all of what her poor little body is doing then I know it has to be agonizing for her. I cannot bear that, even the idea of it. That is the practical part of me that I’m trying to listen to. The other part of me is the one that has tried for a while now to accept the inevitable - I’ve struggled with this for a long time now, long before she went into the hospital - and still I’m not at all prepared to let her go just yet.

I’m just at a loss. I’m so completely tired and worn out, and I haven’t even hit the numb part yet. I’m just trying to conserve what energy I have left to get through the next 24 hours and be there for the family. Cole is staying home from school tomorrow so we can all sleep in (hopefully) and I’m going to try to do the same. I’ve been up since 4 AM and I’m at my limit, but for as tired as I am, the minute I start to get sleepy I start thinking about Granny and Paw Paw. I’ve always thought that he could somehow manage to live without her, but now I’m scared of just how foolish an idea that is. They’ve been each other’s life for longer than I can conceive - he’s spent the majority of his life taking care of her. He was convinced that this evening she squeezed his hand and I’m not sure how that is possible. His hope and faith that she’s going to get better somehow is not letting him accept what is about to happen and I’m at a complete loss for what to do once it does. How can you live without a component of your life that in essence IS who and what you are and always have been?

I’m going to try to sleep now, you guys all keep me in your thoughts and send me energy - I need it more than you can know right now.

I saw an HBO documentary last night called Telling Nicholas that really affected me. Look for it to come back on if you get the chance to see it. It’s about a little 7 year old boy that lost his mother in the World Trade Center attack and how they explain it to him that his mommy is not coming home ever again. Yes, it is gut wrenching and somewhat exploitative, but it ended on a very uplifting note that made me feel a little bit more okay with my own feelings about everything.

Damien watched it with me and we both cried. It brought out some stories of my own from my past that I felt were appropriate to share with him. We talked until midnight cuddled up on the couch and it felt really good to be that open to him. That’s getting easier these days.

In other news, I’m still trying to understand people and failing miserably. Somehow people manage to disappoint me and I find myself not surprised at all. That really makes it clear to you how close you are to them when you come to expect disappointment. Which is kind of sad and disheartening. Then again, that’s on them and not on me I suppose. Anyhoo, I’ve got a rumbly in my tumbly and I’m pretty sure there’s something in the pantry with my name on it.

You were Caesar!!



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You’ve got a lot to say, and you’ll talk until it’s all out, and for some reason, no one tries to shut you up. I guess you actually make sense most of the time. Almost everyone likes you, and it’s not just because you’re cheap. Haha. Cheap as in thrifty, of course. You get a bit depressed now and then, but who doesn’t? You seem to have a little anger built up inside, but who doesn’t? You like to stare at people through their bedroom window while they’re changing, but who doesn’t? You sick bastard. Which Smashing Pumpkins album are you?

Two more weeks and I get to not only see Jennifer again, but I get to introduce her to Damien. He came up to see me at work last night, and Renea and Andrew were here as well hanging out and what not. Every opportunity I got I would look over into his sweet face when he wasn’t looking at me, just to study him and make sure that every feature he has would be burned into my memory. That way I could wake up and lie there for a few moments until I got my bearings and have a focus to remind me why my life is so good right now.

I woke up this morning thinking how much better this place (work) would be if we had a shower built in somewhere. I was also thinking how very soon we’re going to the Gay Pride march, which is just for fun because I do not believe in the notion of Gay Pride - but that’s neither here nor there. Suffice it to say that I am only proud of the things in my life that I’ve made happen and not the things that just “Are”. I’m not proud of being a man or of being white, I just happen to BE those things - being gay is just another thing. Every time I hear some white supremacist spouting off about “White Power”, I get disgusted and think “Dude - you need to get fucked in the ass really REALLY hard just one good time and you’ll see the error of your ways.” That having been said, I’m sincerely looking forward to the season premiere of Oz. Few things please me more than a prison show where an Aryan skinhead type gets porked in the waz against his own will. Not that I’m advocating rape on any level, but the mere idea of this is what I consider “Acceptable Collateral Damage”, you know what I’m saying?

Then July 4th rolls around, and before you know it - September 11th, 2002. How are we as a country - as a planet - going to contend with the first anniversary of that? I want to have another candlelight vigil at the Riverwalk again this year. My friends and I last year had one there on the Friday following the 11th, the 15th I think. It was to be just a few people, I asked the news channel across the street to come and plug it to get the word out, so they came down and interviewed me for the 5:00 news and by 6:00 PM there were upwards of 250 people there, all hugging and crying and singing and praying and mourning a collective loss. It felt like what home is supposed to feel like. It made me feel transcendental in a way, I still felt horrific grief - but somehow I gained a sense of faith in humanity because so many people in my own community came together and shared something profoundly personal.

I’d like to do this again, but I want to spend a bit more time getting it organized and letting people know. It would be great to have an ocean of people from this town come together for something like this. Maybe I can get the station involved in some way to sponsor it or something.

Like I always say to those closest to me - I’m never without a cause, and I know for a fact that one person makes a difference.

Anyone interested in pitching in or giving me an idea to help pull this off is welcome to post a reply. I expect you all to be there as well!

I took some careful forethought before approaching Maggie with the subject of June 30th being the two year anniversary of Shane’s death. Part of me wants a day to grieve my loss and experience that with others; part of me wants that day to be a celebration of living a vital existance. So yesterday afternoon, I sat down with Maggie and broached the subject as the day is nearing. My original idea for a picnic at Flat Rock has been nixed in favor of something considerably more energetic and happy. Instead of that, Maggie wants to go to Atlanta and take part in the closing day of Gay Pride weekend. We’re going to be there for the Pride March from the Civic Center down Peachtree Street and into Piedmont Park. And, as fate would have it, being that at some point or other the universe has to smile on us now and then, I come to find out who is headlining the concert for closing day of Pride Week… none other than my dear friend Jennifer Nettles. This is definitely a good idea. Great energy, complete inhibition, freedom to do pretty much ANYTHING you want to do, and the opportunity to see some of the most completely fucking outlandish shit you’ve N E V E R seen before I’d venture to guess. Imagine Mardi Gras with 70% less drunk people and 85% less garbage, and beautiful bodies in various stages of drag and undress, leather, rubber, feathers, you name it - and it’s all free. You gotta figure that 300,000+ queers know how to get together and throw a party that completely stops the fucking city… Hell, who wouldn’t want to see them all marching on foot and parade float in front of the First Baptist Church of Atlanta when Sunday morning services let out? Every cookie-baker within miles is shielding their kids eyes, the kids are like “Whoa! What is THAT all about?”, and the fags and dykes are chanting in unison “2-4-6-8, how do you know your kids are straight?”.

I went many, many years ago for no other reason than I had to see it all for myself. That year the Indigo Girls headlined and I found myself a week later on the cover of Etcetera Magazine standing there in the front row, surrounded by every variety of dyke & lesbian imaginable. It was incredible. There was an adrenaline there you could smell.

So.

Anyone who was originally interested in going to the park for a picnic, the plans have changed - and I’d love for any and/or all of you to come instead to Atlanta for this most unusual of days where you can have an opportunity to have your senses overloaded and leave thinking “THAT was just insane… when is the next one?”.

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Hmmm… Now if only I believed in any of that horse shit…