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Getting used to my new job has been a challenge.

First off, the bus ride to the new job is an hour and a half. I started at 8:00 am and worked till 4:30 pm which meant I had to get up at 5:00 am to get out the door by 6:15 am to catch the bus at 6:25 am to get to work by 7:25 am to get to training. Training was 5 weeks long. Training is over now, which means I now have to get to work by 10:00 am.

Better, you say. Not so quick. I have to get used to a whole new bus schedule now. This morning was my first day on the new schedule so I got up later, caught the bus later, at least that was my plan. With things being new, I left the apartment without my keys in my pocket. I shut the door and a split second later, that horrifying split second later....realized my mistake. I went to the apartment office, but they weren't in yet so I wrote down the office number and caught the bus. At least I thought I would catch the bus. I didn't catch the bus because it whizzed by before I got to the stop. It whizzed by because I was busy gnashing my teeth over the "Gee you locked yourself out of your house" thing earlier.

SO.............I had to wait for the second bus which came 20 minutes later. I got down town and hopped off the bus and onto the train thinking the train would get me to the Park Rose transit center faster than the rickety old bus would....It didn't. When I got there, there was another 21 minute wait for the connecting bus to take me to work. All said and done, i got to work 21 minutes late. Note to self: DON'T get off the bus.

The work day went well.  I didn't make anyone cry. I work in a bank, so the odds that I make some poor lady cry because I won't reverse any of her overdraft fees is quite high. It happens on a regular basis, my friends. Believe me. I make little old ladies cry!

Anyway, all through the day I kept trying to call the apartment office to tell them to just open up the apartment and leave it unlocked so when I got home I could get in. The phone number I was calling was busy. It was busy on my first break. It was busy at lunch and it was busy on my last break too. Oh, and by the way, Because my day starts later, I don't get my lunch until the cafeteria closes for the day. (Note to self: Pack your own lunch from now on or starve).

So I left work and came home. Like an idiot, I got off the buss at the Park rose station and caught the train, thinking it would be different going the other way. It wasn't different. It wasn't different at all. So I got home around 8:30 pm tonight. The office was closed for the day so there was no use in trying to call. Did I mention I live on the second floor of my apartment building? I didn't mention that? Well let me mention it now. I live on the second floor. So how does someone break into their own apartment on the second floor at 8:30 in the evening?  Did I mention it was getting dark and cold? Well it was. It was getting dark and cold.

We are in the middle of "Spirit week" at work, so I happened to be wearing a Hawaiian shirt today and nothing else but pants. I didn't have a sweater on. i didn't have a jacket on and I live in Oregon where it gets cold when it gets dark. So what's a homo to do?

Well my pets, I climbed my stairs. I got out my wallet and went through my plastic cards, trying to decide which one I could afford to break attempting to get in my front door. Visa; no. Health insurance card, no. Movie card, yes. I got out my Regal Crown Movie card, the one you swipe so you get a free movie after the 20th flick you see. I wedged it in, heard the latch jiggle, then the card promptly snapped in two. I calmly put the remainder of the card back in my wallet and rang my neighbor's doorbell.

I've never talked to my neighbor before, even though I've lived here for over a year. I didn't even know what my neighbor looked like. My neighbor finally opened the door. It turns out, my neighbor is a small Mexican man who doesn't speak English. But through international sign language and the pitiful look on my face, he let me in so I could go out to his balcony, hop over the railing that separates his porch from mine and hop onto my balcony. My neighbor and I have adjoining balconies. I love my neighbor now.

By some odd miracle, I decided to leave my bedroom windows open this morning. Don't ask me why, I just did. I had to hop up on the railing of my balcony, lean way over and rip off the screen to my bedroom window. I then hoist myself up the landed my butt on the window ceil, feet dangling in mid air, 19 feet above the street. Then, honey.... I shimmied like I never shimmied before.  As luck would have it, my computer desk is next to my wall, right under my window.

Hand in and down, scoot. Elbow down, scoot some more. I finally got in far enough to lay my back down on my computer table. (Note to self: Don't leave so much clutter on your computer desk EVER AGAIN!)  I found my chair, pulled it out and away from the desk and used it for leverage. I scooted some more and finally hauled my legs and feet in.

I Tumble off table to the floor. I Rubbed the sore places and panted for a while. Then I calmed down, ok, I tried to calm down, and like any red blooded fag worth his weight in Frequent flyer movie points, I cried. Yes, I said it! I Cried!

Well, what on earth do you do next?  Well you sit down and write about it all. You post it on your blog before you go to the kitchen to take a Darvon and your 800mg of Ibuprofin, (because you ate through all your Vicoden weeks ago).

And so my pets, I'm done writing about my breaking and entering, so I'm off to swallow some glorious pills.

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July 17

The full moon and Frank

Written after a dinner I had with a new friend on July 16th, 2008

Hi Dave:
I was sitting here, letting my meal settle with evening meds, and suddenly thought I couldn't remember a more enjoyable time meeting someone for the first time than I had with you tonight. Wine and cheese and architecture and authentic Mexican food along with the second beer I've had in as many years; then to top that off with a man as genuinely delightful as you under a full moon... Well it was definitely memorable.
Thank you so much for inviting met out. I don't do that enough. The city is a beautiful place, so we'll have to make concerted efforts towards a threesome while the weather still holds. It wasn't too long ago I told your other half he needed to stay put long enough to let his soul catch up with him, but my words of wisdom didn't seem to stick.
Everything has it's own beginning and as beginnings go, this was very nice. If I was feeling better, I would have invited you up for a brief tour my hovel. I would have shown you my Frank Lloyd Wright print hanging on my bedroom wall. It is one of the few items I saved when I turned my back on the civilized world and wondered the nation's roads in a big rig. It would have been quite apropos.
Hoping there will be more to come....
Sincerely,
G.L.G.

"Originally"
Before

and "Relatively"
after.
[<Dave>] What you don’t enjoy all that “people watching”? See you at 4:30. If you have any problems call me on my cell at 831-345-0601. If it rolls to VM leave a message. The cell service here at the house is spotty and the calls don’t always ring.
very cool See ya after work. : )
Will be nice to do something
after work besides sit on a bus
with America's Most Mentally Disturbed!
hehe
Get Windows Live Mail to create your own photo e-mails

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July 15

Fall out and Aftermath

July 14, 2008

Hello my pets:

So after Jim and I broke up I needed someone to talk to. I turned to friends I’ve met on line since I’ve been here in Oregon. I called Ron, known as Ex-Calibear69 and sent him e-mail. Ron wanted to come up to “Visit”, I turned him down flatly, stating I was just giving him an update on things going on in my life.

I turned to Joey, known as Soaked-2-D-Bone, and all he could do is tell me that he sided with Jim. He thought what I wrote on my blog was horrid and I should keep my secrets to myself. I told him that if my writing caused Jim’s sexual behavior to change, then I wasn’t sorry for a single word.

I also turned to Jeff, a former boyfriend in these parts, who immediately jumped to the conclusion that I wanted to get back together with him because Jim dumped me. He told his mother, his best friend and his sexual partner, Ken, that we were “Seeing each other again.”

I did nothing, to my regret, and let him come up here because I needed to talk. He did. He came up when I needed his ear. He then spent July 12^th and 13^th together along with his dog Tuffy.

All the reasons I was not his boyfriend any longer came back to haunt me. I won’t go into the specifics here, because I’ve learned that going into specifics is frowned upon in my community. It will have to suffice to say I’m not sexually attracted to Jeff for at least 3 major reasons that can be stretched out into 6 if I’m cornered.

I was in love with Jim. I know what that feels like. With all of our problems, I still loved him. I love him as I write this update. I may always love him. I don’t know. But that kind of feeling is so strong that I understood what I felt for Jeff would never stand up to what I felt for Jim.

It wasn’t fair to Jeff or me to drag out something that would eventually fail. So I told him about it. I did it in e-mail this morning. I know I am going to hell to do such a thing by e-mail, but that is the day and age we live in. It’s the day and age that fags live in, especially when we meet on line and chat with each other in on line chat rooms. It’s the wave of the future; it’s cold, impersonal, and as easy to destroy as hitting the delete key.

When he was here, he wanted me to write an e mail to a new guy I have been seeing. His name is Gary. He sat on my bed and watched me start the letter, but when he turned his attention elsewhere, I deleted the note and didn’t send it. That’s when I knew Jeff and I wouldn’t work.

When Jeff went home, Gary called. I invited him over and was able to make love for the first time that whole weekend. Gary and I are going out to see a movie this coming weekend and I’m excited about that. I like him and think his blue eyes border on dreamy. How gay is that? Well that’s all, my pets. Just thought I’d let you know I’m not all virtuous and break my share of hearts too. I've got a cold and selfish side and can be just as shallow as the next gay man. The difference between me and them, is I write about it.

July 08

4th of july Part 2

July 4^th part 2

I knew there would be a part 2 to my July 4^th tail. I just knew it. Jim had freaked out on me 4 times before so I knew there would be a 5^th. My daddy didn’t teach me many things. But I came away with two that stick with me to this day. The first was the secret of his mouth watering pancakes, which I’ll not give away here. The second was this:

“Greg,” he used to say, “You don’t have to stick your head back in the sewer to know it is still going to smell like human waste.” Jim has swiped his human waist all over our relationship(Figuratively speaking, of course) several times before, so it was only inevitable it would happen again.

Long story short, the man came over to my house and camped out in my stairwell, waiting for me to come home from work. He had to wait on my doorstep because he had given me the key to my apartment back for the 2^nd time. It was lying on top of my refrigerator in a plastic bag.

I was shocked at seeing him and didn’t know what to say. I opened up my door and he followed me in. He laid on my bed and cried. The 61 year old man laid on my bed and cried, boys and girls.

“You said you loved me and now you are going to Seattle to spend the holiday with a man you met on line.” On and on he went, blubbering about how I lied to him and how he couldn’t believe my treatment of him and our relationship. He confessed that he had grown distant and didn’t know why, blaming the loss of his son, sudden morning over his death because of a Country Music song, combined with things he couldn’t put his finger on. I forgave him, apologized, canceled my plans to go to Seattle and held my breath. I knew he would find something to screw up the fourth of July and he did.

I came home from my new job on Thursday, July 3, to an e mail that said someone had read this blog and chastised him for having unprotected sex with me, and then going out and having unprotected sex with others. Jim wanted me to expunge every reference of him from my blog. He demanded it. I refused.

I’m a writer and I won’t be censored, especially over something that is true. When I was growing up I hid who and what I was till I was 18 years old and promised myself I would never hide again.

So he broke up with me over my blog of all things. He said I could stay by myself over the 4^th of July and to never contact him again. I write this entry on July 7^th and have not contacted him, as he has asked.

He has sent me two e mails I have not responded to. The first I simply deleted and the second one was a posting from a man on Craig’s list who what HIV+ who wanted to have sex with other HIV+ men. I deleted that one too. Since then I blocked his e mails and I’ve put him on ignore in the chat room I frequent. Like my daddy said, one doesn’t have to stick ones head back in the sewer to know it stinks.

I've thought about the basics of his actions and it comes down to him being embarrassed by his own actions. Others found out what he was doing and when they did, they called him on it. Yes, I'm aware it takes two to tango, but as I've said before, he knew I was HIV Poz and no one put a gun to his head. It was the heat of the moment and we did have some heat, boys and girls. We did have some heat. People have talked to me as well about allowing him to do what he did and I understand both points of view. I just didn't see it a reason to break up a wonderful relationship. I suppose the reason I didn't see a need to break up with him is because I was monogomous during the relationship and he was out having as much sex as he could. He is retired, after all and has nothing to fill his days with accept his sexual encounters.

Do I think is actions have changed because of what happened with me? No. Our community is quite small here in Oregon. Everyone knows everyone and I still talk to my POZ friends. So if you happen to read this blog, let it stand as a warning to you that you should at least demand he wear a condom before he insists on entering places the sun doesn't shine. Note that he will coplain he can't wear a condom because it makes certain things go soft. Also note he will complain that Viagra is expensive.

I've been told my moral compas is week because of this little event. I've been told I couldn't have loved him and allowed him to do what he did. So I've decided to strictly date HIV Poz men from here on out. You can't smoke, you can't love cats and you can't be negative in any way. The next man who comes into my life is goingn to have his sewer cover lifted and I'm going to take a nice long sniff. If I smell anything funny, I'm running the other way.

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July 03

Love Leter

I wrote this E mail to my boyfriend today.

I share it here because my life on line is an open book.

July 2nd.

Dear Jim:

I don't go into my yahoo mail very often as is attested by your note of June 13th that I just got to today. Your e mail talked about Haiku. I truly believe I could only love a man who would write to me of such things. I could only love a man who would return a book of Haiku I lent to him, telling me it was a wonderful read.

Today on the bus, coming home after work, I thought about you. This, in and of itself is not unusual, for you populate my mind with your presence throughout the day. What made the thought of you in this instance unique, was the asserted pursuit of what makes you so compelling to my mind as well as my heart.

It can't just be a physical attraction. Physical beauty only lasts for 9 weeks and then one has to deal with what is underneath the skin. It is true that I see physical beauty in you and the shallow gay part of me loves to wallow in the softness of your skin, the pattern of hair on your chest and the perfect point of your nipples, but beyond that there is light. Beyond that there is joy, a gladness and grace and vulnerability that attracts me.

Simply put, you make me happy. I believe we are all meant to be happy. We were created thus as babies. Happiness is a part of who we are from birth and then the world crowds in and tempers that joy with the reality of pain and loss. When we find someone who bngs out the essence of our true nature, the ability for happiness, for instance.... when we find someone who can make time stop, make us marvel that it is indeed 3am and we have not tired of each other's embrace....... I call that light. I call that joy. I call that gladness and grace.

It's why I love you today and the wonder of that is I know I'll find infinite reasons in infinite days to come in which i can enumerate the reasons I adore you to the extent I do.

All for now.Greg

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