The Weddinging, Day Four: Everything Falls Apart, or, I'll kill anyone you want for that cigarette

This is hard. I'm not gonna lie, I've had five cigarettes today. Better than 30. I am a complete bundle of nerves, on edge, anxious, dying to pull my hair out, I keep reaching for nothing. Oh, the disappointment when it isn't there. A little tear came out just then. Withdrawal suuuucks. I'd even stab you if you were next to me smoking. You know what, I'm not even thinking straight so let me get to it.

At this moment our location is fluid, the reception location is a different but similar fluid, and the time of the service is pending the drying up of the location pools. This is good. This is fun. It has to be.

We were going to have the service outside of Atlanta in the woods of the north Georgia mountains. After careful thought about our date, it's distance from us, we decided to look closer to home. Our current plan is to marry at the gazebo in Piedmont park with a small reception afterwards by our apartment pool or at my niece's. Personally, I like the idea of my niece's because of the decorating potential.

I'm not giving away what we have in mind for the procession in the park, but we will be able to adapt what I wanted for the woods. Wait, Scott has to ask his co worker to participate. So many hinges right now. Still many questions to be asked. It could all still fall apart. Why do I feel like my bones are chewing their way out of my arms? I'm usually more coherent.

We do have a wedding budget. I'll only tell you what it is if the pictures come out nice. That will help facilitate planning but oh man there's the licence, flowers, invitations, alcohol, our clothes, food, rings, decorations, alcohol, favors, napkins, cake, oh god I could continue. Wait, guess what? I haven't even mentioned the honeymoon. Oh, I know I'm not breaking any news. Maybe one day little gay children can hope to have their parents throw them a wedding. I've had to reign it in and I've just started planning.

This much is happening. We are going to get married on Halloween. Saturday, October, 31, 2015. To be followed by an intimate autumnal reception with canapes, cocktails and orange and grape jello shots. (dont judge) Then we'll be whisked away by ourselves to honeymoon in New Orleans. I'm sure you heard of it. Four months and we still have to decide on one or two cakes, shoes, oh shiiiit I have to get my licence renewed, I need permissions and it's getting late. Oh man, is that cigarette in the ashtray only half smoked?

Behold: The Wedding Book

So, about a week ago we were in Sam Flax getting some art supplies and I kept coming back to this white Moleskin notebook. For some reason I had to have it. When the ruling was handed down and we almost immediately began planning to wed I knew why I had gotten it. You see, I believe in stuff and whatnot.

I got up to a mixed bag. It was earlier than I wanted to get up and I felt awful when I remembered I have a shrink appointment. Miracle of miracles I did get up in time and that's where I am now. 

But I got great news about our desired officiant. A very dear old friend is going to perform the ceremony so I am relieved and happy. I think we've settled on invitations but I'll leave that for when I'm home and I talk about what all has been decided so far. 

Oh, have I mentioned yet that I quit smoking cigarettes yesterday? This dog and pony show ain't paying for itself. Oh yeah. This'll be a breeze. Nothing ahead but smooth sailing.  

Diary of a Gay Wedding Begins

     Two years ago, I blogged here about gay marriage and some of the things I wanted to do to prepare for the eventuality of it becoming legal in the United States. Seven years ago my partner proposed to me and I accepted, but it felt like someone pressed the pause button on that portion of our love and we continued on while it remained frozen. Without a definite date, there was no planning for me to do.

     Two days ago the Supreme Court ruled that same-sex marriage is to be recognized in all of America. Suddenly, as if I could see a change, our engagement became real, complete with a ticking clock. Everything was different because finally the pessimist in me was quieted and I realized I could actually get married.

     So this is where I will come every day, to share the details of planning a gay wedding on a shoestring budget and the support of some wonderful friends. The ideas are coming and I think we have something special in the works. I will share the ups and downs of changing our minds or something not working out. Three days and I already have one hurdle.

     Tomorrow I'll let you in on the plans so far. My head is so tired it's going into shut down mode. Is groomzilla a thing? Honestly there are times when I'm trying to focus on several things at once. But I am loving every minute of it. Growing up, I saw my brothers weddings come and go, with no hope of having it for myself. Then the other round of weddings for my brothers eventually came. Then a couple more.

     Anyway, my point is not that three people got married eight times before I was able to marry once, it was that I always wanted to plan my own wedding, but never dared to dream so loftily. This is all new territory for me and I'm feeling a little overwhelmed and surreal from getting a handle on the idea that this wedding I'm planning is mine. Ours. It's totally for Scott and me. Ours. But for that little girl still in me, it's mine.

What the Hell is This?!?

I am so afraid when I watch this

Tiny Hippo

There is a web address at the end if the cartoon, but if anyone knows who the actual cartoonist is let me know so I can give full credit for the brilliance that is tiny hippo.

Saturday Rendezvous With Doctor Who

The Doctor Who page on Tumblr asked for people to post about their introduction to Doctor Who, so i posted the following:

I was about 8 when I started watching Doctor Who, which I hate to say happened in the late 70's. Where I grew up in America, it aired on Saturday nights at ten p.m. on PBS.  We didn't get the individual episodes, but an edited 90 minute (give or take) movie that those episodes comprised. I had to work hard to convince my mom to let me stay up, since we had church the next morning. At that church was the family who introduced me to The Doctor. We are still in contact after all these years, and marvel at the surreal journey we have taken with this uniquely tenacious show. 

You have to have imagination to appreciate Doctor Who, but in classic form it takes on a whole different meaning than today. With typically no budget to work with, the sets and effects of the classic series turn away the viewers who can't get past it. But I had enough imagination to see past any of that and focus on the story, the characters, and the mythology, a mythology that has only deepened with time. For many years Saturday night was THE night. It was the night I was able to escape with The Doctor and his companions to the far reaches of time and the universe. 

Technically, the first episode I saw was "Underworld", with Tom Baker as The Doctor. I understood nothing, but was fascinated by these people and their situation. It wasn't until the last of the fourth Doctor's adventures, Logoplis, that I began regularly watching. When The Doctor regenerated at the end of the episode, I learned early on the frustration many feel when one actor leaves and another takes on the role, but I also learned how thrilling it is to begin anew, yet continue on from the same point in the story. Our local PBS station did not air any episodes previous to Tom Baker, but I saw the other Doctors at viewings at monthly fan club meetings I attended with the friends I mentioned. 

And so for a number of years it went with fan club meetings and cons, which in the early 80's were intimate affairs. The panel with Jon Pertwee at my first con only had about 150 people in the room. I met companions and Doctors and bought merchandise like the TARDIS key, sonic screwdriver, novels and magazine back issues. I even begged my mother to crochet me a scarf, fashioned more on the one Tom Baker wore in his last series. A scarf i still have today.

After the show went off the air and I lost my video tapes, I almost forgot about Doctor Who. Every once in a while I would encounter someone with a tape of episodes and I would insist on watching. I never, at the time, had an opportunity to see the tv movie, but was leery of it anyway.

Then I heard it was coming back. I was dumbstruck and I was elated. A very familiar and welcome part of my childhood was returning, but would it pick up on what was already done or be a complete reboot? Thankfully it continued on from the original, more than less. I couldn't be more pleased with the direction it's taken. My favorite part about it's return has been in introducing new people to The Doctor. It's a given they will like it, because like The Doctor I choose my friends well, but the excitement I get from watching them discovering the show is a rush.

Typically I have a hard time with favorites. I don't even have a favorite color. I prefer to find favorite things about each Doctor or episode or writer. But I will say that I am most endeared towards Steven Moffat's way of doing things and hope he is in control for many years to come. And when it comes to Doctors, I prefer to pick a favorite from both new and old. Matt Smith is my pick for the new era of Who. He sucked me in early on and along with the excellent dialog he is given it's a hands down choice for me. For the classic series there is also no hard decision to make. Tom Baker, my first Doctor. His ability to be both man and alien at the same time is seconded only by Matt.

I have gone back and watched the Paul Mcgann movie, ordered merchandise I had lost long ago, ordered new merchandise and listened to the licensed audioplays. I wore out those video tapes I had, and not much has changed except for now they're in dvd and bluray formats. I still get the greatest pleasure from watching episodes multiple times, with my 30+ years of memories flooding back each and every time. Doctor Who is back with a vengeance, though it feels like it was never gone, and I think that's fantastic.

Lap Dance To Go

While I'm working on a posting about guilty pleasures, like soap operas (mine) and WWE wrestling (not mine), I thought I'd share with you what our neighbor has been up to. In order to get a good mental picture without using the thousand words, I've included a horrible drawing I did that you can reference.

Our apartments are pretty standard buildings from the 90's and 00's, with 3 floors and two breezeways. The buildings are the things in the drawing that look like brown envelopes. The green is obviously landscaping, and the white areas are the sidewalks. You can see where they enter the building at each breezeway. The gray is the asphalt parking and driving area.

At the entrance of our breezeway you also find the gated entrance to the patio by the pool. There's a red 'X' there which I will get back to later. In the lower left corner you can see where the gated entrance to the community lies, in front of the purple 'X'.

Now that I've laid that foundation I can tell you about our neighbor. We have a diverse little group of neighbors, but oddly have about 4 or 5 Mexicans in wheelchairs. Not that I find anything wrong with that, it just strikes me as odd that they all ended up living near each other. But they're all friendly with each other, so that could have been the plan. I can't stress enough how much that doesn't matter. But it is essential to the story so I have to describe it, but I would be telling this no matter who did it.

So there are different degrees of handicap with our neighbors. The neighbor I am talking about seems to be the most severe, or possibly he has suffered the longest. He's young, like 19-22 young. His arms are thin, but strong, and his hands have drawn up some. I think his chair is motorized. None of them have shown any propensity towards knowing english. Their home health workers that come quite often are latina. And I gave up long ago on nodding and smiling, since even eye contact is avoided. Que sera sera, I say. Live and let live. For the most part.

We live in that first breezeway above the red 'X'. There is a coke machine by the pool on the other side of the patio. One day we decided we would get some cans of coke so we didn't have to walk to the convenience store. When we came down our stairs, our neighbor was sitting in his chair at that red 'X', blocking the entrance to the patio. He was not sitting there alone, though, for there was a young latina with him, but in casual clothes, so not one of his home health workers. And they were making out. I mean they were fucking going to town on each other. Hands wandering and hair whipping and honestly I can't remember if at this point she got on his lap yet or not. but WTF, why would you sit right there blocking the way? Were you suddenly overcome and couldn't control yourselves. I don't think so, because of where we next saw them.

We went the other way out the gate and went to the convenience store anyway. I really don't think anything less than a garden hose would've parted them. At some point they did move, though. You see that purple 'X'? This is on the road, off the grass or sidewalk, right by a parking spot, about 30 feet from the gate. When we came back from the store and first caught a glimpse through the gate I couldn't believe it. Sitting there, FACING the gate was his wheelchair. She was on his lap, with her back turned to him, writhing, and her head was turned kissing him furiously as he groped the front of her body. It was like two kids home from the club just as their ecstasy was kicking in.

My boyfriend says she was a hooker, and while she surely looked like she could have been a hooker, I'm not going to jump to that conclusion because it just doesn't matter. I will say that it was a tad bit creepy. Kind of like they were doing it for us, even though I know it was just coincidence. But I don't think that would be so far-fetched. They were obviously doing it as a display, which is sad. If being smack-dab in the middle of the entrance to the patio didn't tell me then "parking" in the middle of the road did. It was a trashy low-class display that I'm glad he isn't in the habit of doing. I don't care who you are, if you want the neighborhood to know you're seconds away from intercourse, "accidentally" leave your blinds open, don't shove it all up in everyone's business.

Gay Prude

  The other night I was watching the news when Chelsea Handler said that President Obama has designated June as Gay Pride Month or something. That's all well and good, but I really hope it's put to good use. Like bringing awareness to the topics of whether being gay is a choice, gay marriage, and bullying/violence towards those who are gay. Instead, I fear it will turn into a big excuse to flounce around screaming "You must accept me!" Some people will never like gay people because of the militant attitude so many have in regards to expressing their sexuality. As if acceptance of its existence means a person must also agree with and like it.

    Both my boyfriend and I are gay men, but being gay doesn't define us. I feel no need to share my sexual preferences with a complete stranger, and have equally little interest in learning about theirs. But sexuality has saturated our society, and hardly anywhere else more so than in the gay community. I have never cared for the company of gay men because every conversation contained either sexual undertones or overt overtones. Don't even get me started on superficiality. The type of car you drive, shopping at the store "everyone else shops at," what you pay for a haircut, drinking whatever cocktail is fashionable at the moment, all of these things have wormed their way many gay men's brains as something of extreme importance. Many in the gay community are still stuck on the idea that they must have important friends or shiny baubles in order to really be considered someone. But in reality, it's like these guys wearing their pants ridiculously styled below their asses. Their desire to express their individuality remains unmanifest because of the fact that they are behaving the way and doing the things everyone else is doing.

    Thankfully with age comes some wisdom, even for us former club kids. At a certain point we've realised that instead of parading the city with topless saggy-tittied lesbians and tweaking twinks in nothing but glittery feathers and chaps, we are happier showing pride by actually living the normal life we ask of society. Many straight people already think we do nothing but have ecstasy parties and seduce their young sons, and for many they're not far off the mark. Unfortunately drugs played their part in my life, but like I said, with age comes wisdom. So going out to the club five times a week becomes five times a year, and some think you weird for it. Or they find it odd that you watch the news, care nothing about who made the shirt you're wearing, or use the computer for something besides porn and hookups.

    Atlanta holds the gay pride festival  in the fall. I don't usually go, but I may this year. I don't usually go because I can't stand the heat or the crowds. With one of those elements removed I just might be able to tolerate it. I know there will be a fair amount of people there showing their pride in various ways, being seductive, at times down right illegal. But I know there will also be people there who are simply proud to be able to gather in public with their loved one without fear of being judged for their choices. People who are proud of who they are as a whole, not just for being gay. Proud of  even just being able to express the fact that we are gay. Instead of the current motto, "We're here! We're queer! Get used to it!" I would like to suggest something less abrasive. Something like, "We're gay. So what?" Adopt the attitude that we are as normal as everyone else, not try to express how unlike everyone we can be.

    I'm proud of myself in a basic sort of way. I've made some bad choices, but who hasn't? I haven't killed anyone and I'm not a pedophile, so I'm doing pretty well there. But I will say this, after having been gay my entire life, and having been to the bars, then the clubs, attended social groups, been on committees, one thing I've never really felt is a pride in being gay. It's not about being a prude, which I'm certainly not, but I just think the community has a long way to go in accepting who we are as human beings, and also in accepting the differences among ourselves. Going even further, in accepting the straight community for who they are, while lobbying for changing laws that suppress equality.

    Well, now I've gotten the whole "I'm gay" thing out of the way, and believe me it's not something I'll drone on about. Yes, I have a partner of three and a half years, and it's the best thing that's ever happened to me. Yes, my past is rich with partying and much gayness, but I'm 41 now and my life is so much richer than ever before. As I mentioned, I have been gay my entire life, but I am so much more, and I much prefer to be judged in the same manner I judge those I encounter in my life... by the shoes I wear.

Coming Soon... Alcoholics Anonymous, Shmalcoholics Anonymous!

UPDATE: I did attend the Atlanta Pride parade. It was nice, not hot, and not super crowded. It was a nice day with my boyfriend and our friend Z.