Forgiveness

This week must be the week for all of my skeletons to trot out of the closet and say hello. There are only 3 people that I have ever made an effort to cut out of my life completely. Two were exes and one was a friend that I only knew online. The first was a guy I dated for a little while and then he proved himself to be completely insane so I cut things off with him. We had a big lame feud through our blogs and then eventually moved on with our lives. I mentioned in a previous blog that I unknowingly wandered into where he works a while back but I was able to leave before seeing him. I knew it would only be a matter of time before I ran into him somewhere around town. It happened on Sunday. I was at Walmart and had checked out toward the middle of the store and I was pushing my cart out of the store when I saw him. It was one of those horrible situations where you have a good 30 seconds to decide what you’re going to do but you can’t hide. In that 30 seconds I was kicking myself for wearing an ugly hat instead of putting product in my hair and I felt mangy since my beard was a tad out of control and I was wearing old ratty cloths. Luckily I had my nice long coat on so that covered most of me up. I could tell he was having the same thoughts and finally the moment came where we passed each other in the store. At the last minute he seemed to get very concerned about his cell phone and he seemed like he was going to pretend he didn’t see me. I was relieved for about a millisecond and then decided I had agonized over this too much to let him off the hook that easily. So, I said hello and called him by the shortened version of his name since I never called him by his full name when we were dating. He seemed surprised, smiled, and said “hi” back. And that was it. Quite the build up for an exchange of only 3 words… I was actually really relieved after that, since not knowing when I would run into him was worse than the actual event. I wish him no ill will, I would just prefer to never see him ever again. Since this is a small town, I will be civil. We both made mistakes.

Then last night, skeleton #2 came dancing out of the closet. I met this guy from Oklahoma online… gosh… was it last spring? Last summer? Two summers ago? A lifetime ago? I honestly don’t remember when. He seemed nice enough, smart, funny, very intuitive… so we chatted and got to know each other. He was planning on moving to Fort Collins soon for grad school and he was just trying to make a couple of friends before he got there. He had a tendency to say really insensitive hurtful things that got in under my skin. The shitty thing was that he was usually right most of the time, and that was why it bothered me so much. We had a few weird online fights every now and then and would eventually make up and things would be ok. Then one night we had this all out brawl where we both said a lot of really stupid things and I just logged out – today’s e-version of hanging up on someone. He immediately sent a really hateful text message to me, which I ignored. Then he proceeded to contact me using every email address and online profile I had. I woke up the next morning to a couple more text messages, a comment on my blog, and 2 emails. So, my “crazy meter” was going off the chart and I decided I didn’t want to have any more to do with this guy. I blocked him on every account I had and then sent him an email telling him that I was blocking him and that I would rather not hear from him ever again. Then I did something that surprised both of us. I told him I was going to leave him in my phone and that he could call me if something horrible happened once he got here and he needed help. I guess I just felt kind of bad for him since I knew he was moving so far from home and I was the only person he knew within 100 miles of his new home. He never used my number and I didn’t hear from him again for months and months, until last night. I logged on to gay.com – this horrible gay site that is supposedly the gay version of match.com or eharmony.com, except it’s mostly used by horny guys trying to get off. I am typically disappointed when I log on to chat, but I have met some of my best friends on there so I haven’t given up yet. Seconds after logging on I got an IM from him. I wondered for a second if he recognized my profile name since I had deleted my pictures some time ago (for good reason). But then I quickly realized that he did know who he was talking to. We had a somewhat awkward conversation that I wasn’t sure I wanted to have and he knew he was on thin ice. Then he finally just brought it up. He apologized in his way for being a jerk and assured me that he’s mellowed since moving to Colorado. I’m still skeptical. I couldn’t really even remember what our last fight was about so I looked it up in my chat history. I hate to admit it but I was just as much to blame. I was probably even the one that started it. But he was the one that went nutso on me with the texts and hurtful emails. I’m not sure what to do with him now. I don’t really feel like I can fully trust him to not do something like that again but at the same time I know when it happened he was just about to move hundreds of miles away from the only life he’s ever known and was incredibly stressed and scared. It was a pretty stupid fight, especially in hindsight. After our fight and in the months that followed his words really stuck with me. He said some pretty horrible things but they only hurt because they were mostly true. He had identified some of my worst traits and called them out, which is not something you want to hear… but it forced me to face them and start dealing with them. I’m probably a better person from having known this guy but I’m not sure I want a second dose.

Cautious optimism… I guess I can always use more friends.

I doubt skeleton #3 will come out this week, if ever. He’s probably too self absorbed to even remember me.

I’m Grumpy…

… but I’ll probably get over it. The last couple of weeks have been like a really lame roller coaster ride, where I’m pretty happy about how things are going and then something stupid happens and the very things I had been happy about end up making me sad or angry or disappointed.

Work has been the biggest frustration. I have very little left to say on the subject aside from the fact that I’m done, I’m broken, and I don’t care anymore. I have been busting my ass for the last 8 months trying to impress the administration in the hopes that they would see what a fantastic job I’m doing and promote me but it is now obvious that will never happen. I’ve accomplished a lot in the last 8 months that I am very proud of and I wanted to make sure my boss knew what I’ve been doing so I invited him for a “tour” of the new office. He agreed, came down, and I showed him around but it was really just an opportunity for me to show off and brag about how much we’ve achieved since my supervisor left in spite of the fact that “nobody” has been in charge. Not only did he not seem impressed, he didn’t even seem to care. He was completely unimpressed even. No “thank you,” no “well done,” no “attaboy.” Nothing. He was more concerned with the fact that we are using up server space than the fact that under my guidance we have increased our digital collection by nearly 2000 items. Any sense of loyalty I once had to this place is gone. I’m discouraged and I feel angry and betrayed. The really shitty part is that since the economy is so horrible, it will be virtually impossible for me to leave anytime soon so I just have to suck it up and keep doing my job. Next week I get to interview two recent graduates for the job I applied for and have been doing since June. One graduated in December, the other will graduate in May. I have no issue with someone else being hired for this job as long as they know more than me so I won’t have to train my own supervisor, but it doesn’t look like that will be the case. *sigh*

My degree seems to just be stagnating at this point. The department has stopped replying to my emails and I don’t really know what to do anymore. I can’t graduate unless someone, ANYONE decides to take an interest in me and help me out. My advisor won’t do that, the old dept chair is gone, and the current chair is ignoring me. As far as I know, I just need to finish my thesis (which is basically done) and defend it and that will be that. Seems simple enough… but no. Damn it! I am so sick of being the victim and whining about how somebody is screwing me over. It’s starting to make me question myself. I hate that even more.

Ok, and now for something less bitchy and angry… Um… The dog! Yes, she is always a source of entertainment! She pretty much hates all the snow and cold weather we’ve had lately. (Incidentally, a foot of snow fell on Sunday and then it was -15 when I came to work yesterday.) She actually loves the snow and would run around and plow it with her face if I let her but when it’s this dangerously cold out she doesn’t get to play outside much or go for walks. I tried to take her for a walk yesterday but we got about 2 houses down and she was limping from the frozen sidewalks so we turned around and skedaddled home. Since she hasn’t been able to run off her energy she’s been “helping” me with chores. She sleeps in the clean laundry to make sure I’m extra insulated with clothing covered in dog hair. She stands under the stove when I cook to make sure no crumbs fall on the floor. And my new favorite helpful thing is when she shows me where the end table is after we come in from the yard. I have no idea why, but every single time we enter the apartment she goes directly to the end table in the living room and points to it with her nose until I acknowledge the table. Silly doggy.

Nothing new to report in the romance department… I’ve been staying in contact with the Canadian but he’s been very busy getting ready for an interview for a university in Canada. Things are infinitely more complicated with him than I want to go into. I guess I just want him to be happy and we will certainly stay friends.

I saw Milk in the theater last weekend. Watch it, it’s such an amazing story and the film was made very well. There are a lot of similarities to what was happening in 1978 to what is happening today. It’s spooky actually. It’s heart breakingly sad, but still very inspirational. I might have posted this before but it’s worth a second post.


Something happy: I was driving the other day and I realized that I was unexpectedly happy. I actually had to do this little mental recap to figure out why I was so happy. Did I meet someone new? No… Did something good happen at work? No… Hmm… that’s weird… Oh, yeah Obama is President! That’s something to be happy about! :-)

And now I’m just takin a minute
To take in all of this
And this year I’m gunna extinguish
‘Cause that’s the game
Reverse the flame
Chaos vs. arrangements
That keep closed an open brain
That ruptures steel structures
That keep wild hearts contained

To let loose
To let free
To breath in
To breath out
Peace out

Simply Beautiful

I've been sick lately but I just had to post this. A real blog will be up sometime in the next few days. Simply beautiful... that's all I can say.

Awkward is My Strength

So, it’s been a while since I wrote a blog. I’m a crabby patty right now so I apologize in advance. I’m not really sure what’s going to come out in this blog, but I’ll try to not whine (too much).

Work has sucked lately. Well, it’s actually been decent. I am just nearing my breaking point with all the office and administrative bull shit. To recap, my boss left 7 months ago, I’ve been doing my best to fill his shoes but I’ve had to fight the administration to do it since they refuse to acknowledge that I’m capable of doing this job and also DOING it. I’ve applied for it 3 out of 4 of the times they have advertised and have been turned down in favor of nobody each time. I can’t imagine what they are thinking. The department not only has kept going but has flourished since I “took over.” It went from one half time employee and a supervisor to two full time employees, one half time, and one part time student worker. We’ve upped our production considerably and have even moved into a bigger office space. Who the hell do they think orchestrated all of that!?! I was even introduced as the department manager by someone giving a tour today. Virtually everyone in the building recognizes that I’m in charge down here and that I know what I’m doing and that I’m doing a good job, aside from the 3 people doing the hiring for this job. Two people are coming in to interview in the next week or two. I don’t really know how to feel about that. I won’t sabotage them since it’s not their fault but I won’t be able to work for them either, and I’ll even have to train them. Awesome. On a positive note, I actually really like the new office and it will be downright pleasant once we get some stuff hung up on the walls.
Dogzilla has been a disaster lately. Not sure what her issue is. I’ve actually taken her for a walk every day this week, which is really unusual in the winter since I’m so busy and it’s normally miserably cold out. She has a new toy that she plays with some but for the most part she just sits under my footstool and whines all night. She won’t play by herself for more than a few minutes at a time and even then she quietly whimpers like it’s just not as much fun as it should be. She needs more space and another dog to play with but I can’t give that to her yet. Poor puppy. Otherwise, she’s a pretty happy girl most of the time, it’s just from about 6 at night until I go to bed that she’s unbearable.

My love life continues to be complicated but for some reason it bothers me less now than it has in the past. Last night as I was getting ready for bed I tried to imagine what it would be like to be in a permanent stable relationship. What would it be like to go to bed every night knowing someone else was going to be there? What would it be like to wake up and have breakfast with someone? What would it be like to have someone help me do the dishes after dinner? I have to admit, I really want these things but I also have a hard time picturing them. I’ve had them for brief periods of time and enjoyed them but I know my life isn’t ready for it now. I need to work on ME and my situation before I add another factor to the equation. Hmm… that seems like a revelation or something. Interesting.

So, school has started again. The students are back, classes are in session, things are rolling along. We had our first Spectrum (GLBT student group) meeting and that’s all great. I’m still super proud of the group this year. Well, I’m always proud of them but even more this year than before!

With the start of the school year also came the start of the next legislative session. A super alert Spectrum member brought it to our attention that there was a constitutional amendment in the works that would negate same sex marriages performed in other states. It’s not enough that same sex marriage is already illegal in this state, but it had to be taken one step further to void all other legal same sex marriages performed elsewhere. Way to go “equality state!” I saw a copy of the actual bill and recognized one of the sponsors as being the father of the friend I took to my junior prom. I went to school with his second youngest daughter for about as long as I can remember and I am still really good friends with his youngest daughter. He has prom photos of me on his living room wall. Photos that my family replaced after their house burnt down a few years ago. I know this man, I know his wife and his kids, I’ve been in his house. He’s a good man and his family is wonderful and so I was faced with a huge dilemma. Do I write to him and out myself or do I just float on? I know that many people that write legislation like this simply don’t see the people that it affects. They don’t realize that they know “actual real live gay people.” Most people don’t expect the prom king to be gay but I was the prom king and I am gay. I was the nice boy that parents liked. I was polite, respectful, smart, and I still am – being gay hasn’t changed that. So, I did one of the hardest things I’ve had to do in recent memory and I sat down and wrote an email to him. I weighed my words carefully, I went at the issue from several different angles, and I made sure to insert myself into the email as much as possible as a reminder of who I was, who I am, and who I always will be. I’m the guy that was voted prom king in a small town in spite of the fact that I never played any sports, which is social suicide in most rural towns. I have always gotten to where I want to be in life based solely on my character and integrity. I was nice to everyone and never turned my back on someone in high school, and that is how I was became prom king. I hope the same is still true today.

Right to be Wrong

Bad Idea? Good Idea?

I kind of hated the first MA program... but I am considering another. I'm starting to think history was a mistake... Plus I get 2 free classes a semester. Any thoughts?
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Masters in Science in Student Affairs and College Counseling

The Student Affairs and College Counseling program at the University of Wyoming is designed to prepare professionals to assume a variety of roles in higher education and student affairs including housing and residential life, student union, leadership activities, orientation, counseling and career services, enrollment management, and multicultural support services. Students acquire a strong knowledge base including: history, philosophy, ethics, theory and assessment. Students also develop an understanding of organizational dynamics and administrative culture to enable them to provide leadership in the arenas of student development and policy in student affairs. As our program is also committed to the development of a community of learners, students are actively engaged in small collaborative learning environments with opportunities to work directly with student affairs professionals and faculty on campus. Graduates of our program will demonstrate the knowledge and counseling skills/practices that are necessary to promote the development of postsecondary students.

San Francisco, Day 4 (and some thoughts)

We woke up the next morning the same way we woke up the previous mornings, still cuddling. I typically don’t sleep well when anyone is in my bed and I usually don’t like to be touched when I’m trying to sleep but I sleep better with J and like it when he holds me. *sigh* The entire trip was sort of like 3 days of G rated foreplay with no release of any sort. So by the end it was getting harder and harder to behave. Even saints have an off day. That morning we had our one and only slip up – a kiss, a slow, gentle, not particularly long kiss… but it was filled with electric current and something that transcended passion. As far as kisses go it was pretty amazing in spite of the morning breath and forbidden nature of it, or perhaps that only added to it's awesome-ness. I was on the verge of either pushing myself off the side of the bed to stop anything else from happening or just letting it happen when I made the (probably) wise decision to go take a cold shower. I don’t know why I put myself in situations like this. Actually, I knew exactly why I was putting myself through this hell. I love him. I hate that I love him but just the same, I do. I’ve never met someone that I was so in tune with. He fills in all my gaps to make me feel whole even though I’ve never felt empty before. It’s sort of like a stone wall with not enough mortar between the stones. Even without mortar, it’s still a wall but with mortar it’s a stronger wall and more wall-like. Being with him makes me feel more myself instead of less myself if that makes any sense. We finished packing, checked out, called a cab and went to the airport. We checked into our flights, went through security, had an early lunch of bad curry and teriyaki. After we ate I dumped our tray (the lady only gave us one since it was clear we were together) and I watched our bags as he brought coffee back for both of us. It’s the little couple-y things that I love the most. Being single is hard. I love being independent but I love someone bringing me a cup of bad coffee even more. We waited at his gate since his flight left first. We held hands and cuddled and threatened all sorts of marriages and all sorts of children’s concepts of marriage while we waited. Then his flight started to board. I was happy he was in the last seating group since it meant spending another 5 minutes with him. I kissed him goodbye and watched as he boarded the plane. Come to think of it, I don’t know if I kissed him on the lips or on the cheek or what. I didn’t cry as I walked away. It might sound insane but I feel like I’ve known him for as long as there have been people. I feel like we find each other in every lifetime and sometimes we are lovers, sometimes we are enemies, sometimes we are together, sometimes apart but we are always something to each other. Now comes the part where I start to waver. I hate this situation. All I want in the world is a simple relationship. I don’t want to bust out the stupid “it’s complicated” status on Facebook. I don’t’ want that. I want “in an exclusive relationship” or I would even be happy with “dating.” I just want to go home at night and not be alone. That isn’t so much to ask is it? J told me in an email that he feels like in some alternate universe we are dating and it’s a good place to be. I suppose I know what he means but I live in this universe and I’m alone and he’s in a relationship with someone else. I understand he’s just as confused as I am, perhaps more so. I realize he must have some pretty deep feelings for this other guy and ultimately they are in the same city while I’m a country away. But I can’t help but wonder… Are there fireworks when they kiss? Do they complete each other? Do they share one heart, one mind, one soul? Did they have dreams about each other, even before they met? I don’t want to interfere in lives and I don’t want to get carried away but I don’t want to let someone this important to me slip away simply because I didn’t fight to keep him. I can’t be objective. Maybe I’m being stupid. Maybe I will get hurt. Or maybe I will get everything I ever wanted and then some. Time will tell.

San Francisco, Day 3

Since this was the morning of J’s interview we set two alarms, one on his phone and one on my new phone that sounded like frogs and had a little musical background, fun! (Incidentally, I FINALLY bought a new cell phone right before Christmas. Mine worked fine but was pretty old and didn’t really do anything interesting.) The first alarm went off and we cuddled for our “bonus” fifteen minutes until the sound of musical frogs told us we needed to get going. We both got dressed and ready and headed off to the hotel his interview was at. We found it easily enough and then continued walking around since he didn’t want to be early and didn’t want to wait in the lobby. The time came and I wished him luck, gave him a peck on the cheek, and went off to explore on my own for an hour. I didn’t go too far since I didn’t want to get lost or get too far from the hotel in case his interview was short. I found a cute coffee place and had a great cup of coffee while I wandered around. I saw a cool cube shaped building that turned out to be some sort of Jewish museum and right behind that was an old Catholic church. It was sort of an interesting juxtaposition of time periods and religions. I killed about 40 minutes and then went back to the hotel lobby to wait. J’s interview lasted an extra 25ish minutes (longer than planned, which is probably good!). J needed some coffee so we got some for him and then went back to the hotel so he could change clothes. We decided to make our way back to the Castro so he could get his hair cut and we could have some lunch. We ate at another cute little restaurant and then lucked out by walking into a salon just as they had an opening. J’s hair cut turned out really well and the lady that cut it was fun and adorable. I loved being in the Castro since everyone assumed J and I were a couple even if we weren’t holding hands. The lady that cut his hair asked if I liked it and she called me his boyfriend, nobody corrected her. For that day I sort of was in a complicated platonic sort of way. After lunch in the Castro we went to Haight-Ashbury. We were offered pot several times and smelled it several other times. We did some window shopping and then went to a kick ass music store where we both indulged by buying a couple cd’s each. We caught the Muni back downtown and then we went to the Fisherman’s Warf for dinner. The warf was pretty touristy but fun in its own way. My only request for the entire trip was to see the ocean since I had never seen the Pacific. I got some pretty shots (incidentally, if you want to see my pictures just contact me somehow and I would be glad to share!). We had a nice seafood dinner and then some fried donuts to eat while we waited for the cable car. The line was insanely long but it was a beautiful night so nobody really seemed to care. J and I threatened some marriages by holding hands for the hour we waited for a cable car. Two went by completely full and a third filled up right before us. We were determined that we would OWN the next cable car that showed up and we lucked out big time since there were two empty seats in the middle that we owned the hell out of almost all the way back to the hotel! The cable car dumped us off a couple stops before the downtown station because there was some sort of demonstration going on (we learned later that it was about the bombing of Palestine and had we known sooner we would have probably gone). The super helpful conductor told us the subway station was a block and a half “that way” as he gestured toward the city. Helpful. We eventually found it and got back to the hotel after a long day. We planned on going to see Milk at a nearby theater but instead we called it an early night, watched some tv, and packed to leave the next morning. For a nearly unprecedented third night in a row I went to sleep being held. Bliss.

San Francisco, Day 2

We woke up considerably earlier than we planned on. I think we set an alarm for 11 and we were dressed and out and about before then. We got some coffee at a Starbucks and then decided to try to figure out the public transit system so we could go to the Castro. It would have been simply unacceptable to not make the Gay Mecca our first destination. We found our way to the nearest subway station easily and then went into the BART station, only to discover we didn’t want the BART but the Muni. We paid something like $4.90 to get OUT of the BART station after having not gone anywhere on it and then tried our best to figure out the Muni system. We will partially remember SF as "the city of bad signage." The “friendly” lady in the ticket counter told us to use the BART kiosk to get change and to press “H” to do that. There wasn’t an “H” on the BART kiosk. Eventually we realized we just needed $1.50 each to get through. After we figured that out it was a simple matter of waiting for the right train to take us to the Castro. The subway in SF is amazingly clean compared to any other subway I’ve been on. We hopped on and noticed a cute gay boy get on at the same stop. We assumed he was gay anyway… gaydar really does exist. ;-) He got off at the Castro and we briefly considered asking him to join us since he was alone and clearly not from there since he was consulting a map but we figured there was no nice way of offering without sounding creepy. J warned me that the Castro is actually pretty small and unimpressive since he didn’t want me to be disappointed. For a gay boy from ultra rural Wyoming, anything is exciting though! About the only thing that set the Castro apart from any other part of SF was the abundance of rainbow flags. We walked around a bit and then had some lunch. We went into a cute little restaurant (they were all cute little restaurants) and had a late breakfast of frittata and mimosas. How gay is that? Drinking a mimosa in the Castro! It was fantastic and of course I had to text my friends to brag. After brunch we did a little window shopping around the Castro and I took a few pictures. I had my obligatory “Full House” moment. Apparently every single child of the 80’s is required to have a moment where they look up a street and either think or say “wow, it is just like Full House.” I even took a picture of the exact spot I was standing when I had my moment. Dorky. We were both all sorts of tuckered out by about early to mid afternoon so we hoped back on the Muni to go back to our hotel for a nap. We cuddled and rested for a while, which was fantastic. The cuddling turned into play wrestling and that was about a millisecond away from turning into trouble but we managed to behave ourselves. The “official” reason for this trip was because J had an interview for a job but he somehow managed to leave his dress shoes and dress pants at home and didn’t have a tie. Silly boy. So, we went to a Campers store and he bought some shoes that I was not so secretly jealous of. I would have bought an identical pair but that would have just been lame. Then we found a perfect pair of pants for him at Old Navy that miraculously matched his jacket. That just left a tie which turned out to be sort of tricky. We eventually found one at Zara’s and had to wait in line forever. At least the cashier was cute (or at least I thought so and then I saw him getting on the Muni in the Castro the next day – thank you gaydar!). We were hungry again and grabbed a quick burger on the way to the hotel. The rest of the night was spent relaxing in bed watching a House marathon. For a second night in row I got to go to sleep with someone’s arms around me.

San Francisco, Day 1

To recap: this was a trip to see a guy I met at a conference in New York last spring. We corresponded for months through email then spend 3 amazing days together in my home town while he did research where I work. Those days were amazing and my walls all crumbled instantly. That was the honeymoon... It was a few days later that I learned things were far from simple. He was in an open relationship that suddenly became serious after we were together. He belonged to someone else and yet we still had feelings for each other. I decided that until he was single I would gladly be a part of his life (since I couldn't imagine a life without him) but we would not do anything together that we wouldn't want our mothers to see. Awkward and complicated is my life. *sigh*

I landed in San Francisco about 30 minutes later than my original arrival time in spite of all the drama getting there since I got onto a direct flight rather than having a layover. As soon as I had my cell phone back on I made a couple calls and a stream of text messages came in. My Canadian was delayed two hours and took off just slightly before I landed which meant I had about two hours to kill. Most of the shops in the airport closed just as I got there but one stayed open all night so I got a sandwich and settled in with a book. I chatted with a friendly ticket agent and she told me what gate my Canadian would be landing at and we joked back and forth a bit. She was super nice and for some reason told me I was a door bell. Yes, a door bell… not “adorable” but a door bell. Somehow, at the time it was a compliment. "My Canadian" will now be referred to as “J” for simplicity sake. I watched his plane land and taxi up to the gate and I positioned myself to meet him at the gate. It was a combination of luck and good planning that I had the rare privilege of meeting someone right in the terminal. People started coming out and I started to mentally steel myself… “don’t kiss him on the lips, don’t kiss him on the lips…” And then there he was. Somehow I was so distracted with psyching myself up that I didn’t see him until he was practically in my arms. Not kissing him was about as difficult as I imagined it would be but we managed. He gave me a peck on the neck just under my ear and my resolve melted ever so slightly. He took my hand and we made our way out of the airport. We stood on line for a cab, made our way to the hotel, and the entire cab ride is a blur now. I don’t know what we talked about. I don’t know if we held hands. I just remember thinking “I’m here.” The hotel was kind of small and old but still charming and clean. I’ve stayed in FAR worse places and paid far more for them. We rode the scary old elevator to the 6th floor to our room. As we walked into the room I was stricken with a sudden case of awkward. I followed him to the bed and I probably looked uncomfortable. What was going to happen now? It was probably 1 in the morning, we were both tired, most of my resolve had returned to me… I remember wonder how I was going to survive being with him for an entire weekend without doing anything sexual. Since we share a brain and a heart he saw how uncomfortable I was and told me there was a second room with a second bed. Sure enough, there it was… I hated it but put my bag on it and went back out to the main room with the chairs, table, and tv. I continued to be awkward, he went in to the bathroom and changed into some comfy looking pajamas which somehow made me feel a lot better about things. Then he said; “you aren’t really sleeping in there are you?” and indicated the other room. *sigh* No, I wasn’t. I changed and we snuggled into the same bed together knowing that we couldn’t do anything other than cuddle. It just wouldn’t be right if I didn’t make an already tricky situation even more difficult by putting myself in temptation. We cuddled and chatted until after 3 in the morning. We were both just so happy to be there that we couldn’t sleep in spite of the fact that we were both exhausted. And by “there” I don’t mean just SF, we were in each others company and that was a good albeit complicated place to be.

How I Nearly Didn't Get To San Francisco!

Picking up where my last blog left off… I woke up the day after Christmas to wind, gray skies, and snow. I planned on leaving “eventually” on that day but with the weather bad I gathered my crap and left as quickly as possible. Turns out the weather was just fine and my drive home was uneventful, which was good. I got home and needed to do laundry but my land lady (who lives upstairs and is gracious enough to share her laundry room with me) put a load of laundry in literally 3 minutes after I walked in the door and then dominated the washer and drier the rest of the day in spite of the fact that I had been gone for several days and she knew I was flying to San Francisco the next morning. I managed to get enough laundry clean early the next morning so I could pack and then leave for the airport. I should mention that this was a trip to spend time with my Canadian in San Francisco while he was there for a job interview. More on him later. I knew my flight left the airport at about 6ish, that it took two hours to get to the airport, and that you should get to the airport about two hours early. I knew all of these things. I have flown before and I have done simple math before. So… 6 – 2 – 2 = 2. Simple. Yeah, somehow I didn’t do that math and left my house at 3:30 for the airport, thinking I was actually leaving myself an additional 30 minutes. About an hour into the drive I looked at my clock and thought… hmm… it’s 4:45, how is that possible? Don’t I fly out at 6? I found my flight info (while driving) and confirmed that my flight did in fact go out at 5:59. Which meant my flight would start boarding in about 45 minutes and I was about that far from the airport still! HOW COULD I SCREW THIS UP SO BADLY! In my own brain I was leaving 3 ½ hours early but somehow I failed to account for the fact that it would take about 3 ½ hours to get there, check in, and get through security! ARG! To complicate things further, the wind was INSANE and there were at least 4 overturned semi’s in the interstate so that slowed me down. I called United and they told me there was no way I would be able to board my flight but they could put me on standby for future flights once I got there. I didn’t like the sound of that but didn’t have much of a choice so I hauled ass to the airport. I found the one and only flesh and blood United ticket agent and I poured on every ounce of charm I had at my disposal. Unfortunately, she had a horrible cold and I think my charm got caught in her mucus. Her best offer was to send me to Fresno and then I could get put on standby for a 5 AM flight to San Francisco the next morning. Being stranded in Fresno was not my idea of a good time so I opted to be put on the standby list for the 9:50 direct flight to SF. She told me there were about 16 people ahead of me on that list and that the flight was full so I shouldn’t get my hopes up. Bitch… So, I texted my Canadian to tell him the bad news. At that point I was reasonably certain I wasn’t going to make it since it sounded less than likely that I would get on the 9:50 flight and the next one wasn’t until 8:00 the next night. But I had to at least try, so I went through security and found my gate. I decided to check the monitors and found out there were 2 flights before the 9:50 flight that Flight Agent Mucus failed to mention. One was supposed to have left hours before but they were having mechanical problems and the other left at 7:50. I asked about the delayed flight and she told me there was no way I would get on that standby list since it was way over booked. Sad. So, I decided to see what flights were going to the west coast, and had someone at the ticket counter to talk to. I found a flight to Seattle and cranked up the charm level to DEFCON 1. I explained what had happened, emphasizing the fact that I drove all the way from Wyoming and that there were four overturned trucks and horrible wind that delayed me (which was partially true) and asked if there were seats on the fight to Seattle and if there were any connecting flights to SF that night. Then she offered to put me on the standby list for the 7:50 direct flight to SF. She told me there was a very good chance that I could get on it and that even if I didn’t I would probably be able to get on the 9:50 flight. I don’t recall but I might have confessed my deep and undying love for her at that point. I went to the gate she told me to go to and attentively waited to hear my name called. Boarding started, the gate cleared out save for about 5 people including myself, they started calling the names of missing passengers, none of them showed, they started calling the names of other standby passengers, a few of them showed… I was getting nervous and trying to do the mental math in my head (ok, they called 7 names… 2 showed… that leaves 5… there are 5 people here…). Then they closed the door to the gate. CRAP! The ticket agent asked all of our names and asked if we were on standby… then they started calling our names! They told us to stand by the door so they could check seating. *fingers crossed* Then they took all of our standby tickets away. What did that mean? They told us to wait there at the door… again, what does this mean? The ticket agent disappeared for a minute behind the door and came back. She told us to just take anything available. Wait, what? Any what available? Oh, seats! YAY! I practically ran through the gate, found a seat and had about 30 seconds to fire off a text message saying “got on a direct flight.” I was going to San Francisco!