It Ain't Truth If It Doesn't Hurt

What About Your Friends...

I believe that there is a song title for every situation in this world. Today...a little old skool TLC is going through my head...I remember when the song What About Your Friends came out...I was a sophomore in high school working at the music and video counter at the Targhetto on West Broadway. May it rest in peace.

The reason this particular song is going through my head right now is that I am going through some things...or more appropriately I am not able to go through some things...with my friend Sara.

Last spring Sara was going through some really tough times (the specifics of that are her story to tell). She turned to us...specifically Coya and I...for support. That's what queer fam is for, right? We were both there for her...and part of our loving and supporting Sara was that when she started engaging in some counter-productive behaviors...that she herself had ID-ed as behaviors not healthy for her...Sara became defensive. Coya had a conversation with her and said that as long as she engaged in behaviors she knew to be unhealthy...Coya couldn't support her. That's fair. I called Sara and asked to have a conversation with her. She never responded. So, by default...she pulled herself out of both my life and Coya's life.

The part that stung...a lot...was that Coya had set a boundary for Coya and Sara's relationship. I did not set that same boundary...as I felt that I could engage with Sara in a way that Coya could not at the time. But Sara decided to take Coya's boundary and apply it to me. From May straight on through this fall...on occassion...I would reach out to Sara via phone messages or email and remind her that I love her and that I wanted to have a conversation about our friendship. Most of the time she didn't respond. Now and again she would call and leave a message or email or text and say...yes...we'll talk. That talk has never materialized.

This fall Coya and Sara started rebuilding their friendship. And, as a funny result, Sara started communicating with me again (a truly bizarre dynamic...as if the actions and decisions of Coya were to be applied to me as well). Last week...C-Money was in town staying with me...and was having a conversation with Sara. I got on the phone...with playful intent...to remind Sara that we were to have a conversation...and she went on an all out attack.

She told me that she was disappointed with some decisions I'd made over the last couple of months and was therefore not pre-disposed to having a conversation with me. At first, I went to a really dark shame place...thinking that I had somehow done something terribly wrong...and luckily...for what may be the first time in history...I hauled myself right back out of that and recognized what was going on. Sara did not want to be held accountable for her lack of interaction and her negative behavior...so she was trying to divert the issue. I should have picked up on that right away...I've done that many a time in the past.

This time I was very clear that I acknowledge that she may have some concerns about things I have done in the last couple of months. I also said I'd be willing to have a conversation about her concerns. But that her  bringing them up when she was being asked to be accountable was a cop-out, a distraction, and lack of accountability.  She may have not wanted to have the conversation with me in the last couple of months...but that doesn't excuse the six months previous that she had committed to talk to me and never did.

I'm really at a loss as to what to do in this situation. I feel as if I have had to be accountable to Sara many many times over the last couple of years. We made an agreement to hold each other accountable...all of us did...RJ, Jeremy, Coya, and me. So far some of us have stepped up to the plate and been held accountable when we have need to be. Some of us have not. And I know that two things happen for me in that situation...I feel hurt that I have trusted others and allowed them to love me in ways that sometimes hurt and they have not allowed me the same space to love them through their hard times. The other is that it makes me angry at what feels like some serious hypocrisy.

I left the door open for Sara and told her to call me when she is ready to have our conversation. But, right now, I don't truly believe that she will. It's easier for her to hide out. As a white woman, as a woman of means, as a woman living far from any place where there are people that truly know her...she doesn't have to be accountable. And that's the truly sad part...I know Sara knows better than to use her privilege to escape accountability...but she's doing it. She's locking out people that truly love her...all of her...the good, the bad, and the crazy...and that just flat out makes me really really sad.

Exactly What Not to Do on a Date...

Not only am I pissed for the reasons that I am about to share with you...but I was almost at the end of writing this blog when this jenky computer I am on up and closed explorer. Today is not my day.

So, I've been dating this guy Wriel (pronounced Uriel or Asshole...take your pick) on and off for a couple of months. I hadn't seen him in about a month due to some technological difficulties (I was broke and couldn't pay my cell phone bill and left my phone at a friend's house and didn't go and get it for three weeks). So, last night we went out for the first time in about a month.

(Pause for background history)

I met Wriel at the Bolt about two months ago while out with my friend Rod. Wriel was there with his boyfriend Dale. They are still together and live together in Shakopee. Sad. Dale is a fat, controlling, gross, emotionally abusive white man that is in the National Guard. Wriel is a hot, cut, usually sweet Latino. Ugly mean white men do not deserve hot brown men. I have spoken. At the moment, Dale is at his weekend of duty in Duluth. Dale's mother is in town staying at Wriel and Dale's house while Dale's father is having a heart valve replaced in Minneapolis. Wriel has been charged with taking care of all this while Dale is off defending Minnesota from the Canadians and fucking some brown twink up North.

(Back to the story)

So, last night Wriel picks me up looking extra hot. He gives me a fabulous new cashmere scarf, and we head down to the Saloon for some beverages. The plan is to hang out for a while there and come back to my apartment for some brown on brown fun good times.  So, we were hanging out at the bar...having some drinks...laughing and joking. I ran into Ezekiel...a guy I met last time I was out that is a brother in my fraternity...and HOT AS HELL. In general...we were having a good time. About half way through the evening, Wriel's testicles re-ascended into his pelvic cavity...and he starts slowing up on the beers saying he has to drive back to Shakopee. Note...I do not live in Shakopee...and our plan was to stay at my house last night. So, I am understandable annoyed, which I make pretty clear to him. I may be the other woman...but I'm a motherfucking old school geisha...and he was getting all up in my memoir.

So, I got a little angry and withdrawn...but was faking the funk. At about 1am...Wriel says he is off to the bathroom. About ten minutes later, I realize he hasn't come back, so I do a loop to see if maybe he is in the smoking lounge. No dice. I call his cell a few times, but there is no answer. By 2am...I realize that this bitch ass motherfucker has left the motherfucking bar. I was at the Saloon without a dime in  my pocket and the whoreson knew that shit. Luckily, I have been going to that particular spot for 11 years, and I had some friends there...so I asked my hottie pal Thomas for a ride home.

I was so angry when I got home that I could not sleep. I was on a stalking mission. I tried to look up his home address and phone number through the property register in Scott County (unfortunately...in Scott County you can no longer search by name...you still can in Hennepin County for you vengeful divas out there). I called 411 looking for his home number. I got on Dexonline. I was determined to find a home number for him last night if there was one to be found. I went to bed frustrated...in multiple ways...but not before I blew up his cell phone and text messaging with some evil ass communications. Then I deleted all his numbers and cleared out my calls. Bye bitch.  Boo.

I have never ever in my long ass dating career ever been ditched on a date. Until the last ten minutes we were together the night was going peachy keen. And even if I did something to piss him off...leaving your date at the bar with no money and no way home is probably not the best solution to the situation.

I am dead tired at the moment having slept for perhaps three hours. Antonio got up this morning, and I regaled him with the drama. Part of me hopes that Wriel never ever calls my phone. The evil biyotch in me hopes he's stupid enough to call. Either way...let me run into him in public...he is going to find out just why white, native, black folks and Puerto Ricans should never ever be allowed to make mixed babies.

TV Just Pisses Me Off...

Basically, I haven't lived anywhere that has had cable television or even television with rabbit ears for local reception in almost three years. Sadly, I have missed the last two seasons of American Idol...and I was able to steer clear of the Desperate Housewives phenomenon (when I saw TransAmerican I wasn't sure that the tranny in the movie was a bio girl until I saw her man-parts...and being a peniphile I was quick to spot a low hanging falsy). And, I had no idea that Keifer Sutherland had re-emerged as a star in the new millenium.

But, now that I work from home, and I have basic cable...I have been quickly re-baptized into televised pop culture. And what I've seen has pissed me the hell off. When you have basic cable, you are basically limited to public television, your local stations, CNN, and the learning stations (National Geographic, History, Discovery, TLC, and Animal Planet). So, basically, I have been inundated with something akin to information overload. Now, thanks to the learning stations...I am terrified of the 12 deadliest snakes in Africa, stingrays, and the scientifically predicted evolutions of animals 100,000,000 years in the future. But, I am also re-pissed off beyond belief about the history of the United States and the bullshit that is taking place right now today and especially over the course of the Bush Administration.

Let me be specific...two incidences today have caused a sharp rise in my blood pressure. During a show on the Civil War and Reconstruction on the History Channel, there was a quick in between scenes fun fact that stated in 1866, former slave owners in Georgia managed to sell a group of freedmen back into slavery in Cuba. At that moment, when I saw that clip, I wanted to go out and smack the nearest white person. I may indiscriminately beat down the first caucasian I came across. The history of people of color in this country, my history and the history of my family, has been white washed, bleached out, rubbed out, and ignored. Yet, from time to time...by chance and happenstance...I learn something about my personal past and my racial past that I didn't know before. As someone that prides himself on being engaged with exploring his history and the history of his nation...the details of what was done and continues to be done in the name of white supremacy in his nation often catches me off guard and sparks some deep, genetic level anger.  I managed to reign my anger in and recognize that while the emotion was completely valid, smacking a random white person might not be just or fair...even though I still wanted to do it. Just a little bit.

But that wasn't the end of the TV inspired outrage. This evening, I came home from a tasty dinner with my wonderful friends Kandace and Andrea (aka Wifey and Pookie), only to find my roommate Antonio watching a documentary on TPT about the lead up to 9-11 and the decision to go to war in Iraq and Afghanistan. And, dammit if that isn't enough to set any justice minded person off the deep end. The first thing that absolutely drove me nuts was learning about the backroom power jockeying by VP Dick Cheney and his push to get George Tenet out of office. He pulled no punches and did everything short of raising Satan himself to get George Tenet out of the CIA...and for no other reason than Tenet was a Democrat and Clinton appointee. And then 9-11 hit. You'd think that the events of 9-11 would be enough to put aside petty power mongering at the White House...but then again commonsense has never been associated closely with Republicans...particularly Dick Cheney. So, in the midst of the 9-11 crisis...Cheney continued to do his best to undermine Tenet and anyone else that wanted anything different than did he with regards to a response to the attack. What really tickles me and makes me want to vomitar about the whole situation...is that Tenet wanted to go to war as much as Cheney...their fight was over which of them would lead the war effort...Cheney through  former Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld or George Tenet and the CIA. Good God in Heaven.

I would like to say that I am going to unplug my TV and disconnect the cable...but I am an information junky...and really...it's been too long since I've felt the outrage that I should be feeling with just about every waking breath I take (outrage can be put aside during sex and doing number two).  So, I will stay tuned...and stay keyed up...anything less is exactly what the clowns on the news want...to have us all unplug, disconnect, and let them play their games that end lives from one end of this world to the other.

New Year Resolution

I have exactly one New Year Resolution this year: To do the best I can every day.

I debated all of the usual resolutions: be better with my money, get in better shape, take better care of my health, etc. etc. etc. And I realized that really it all boils down to each day between when I wake up and when I go to sleep making the best decisions I can possibly make. This also recognizes that from day to day my best may differ. Some days I may be tired or sick or wore out and what I am able to do to succor myself and others is going to be different than those days when I feel on top of the world. It means being deliberate about the choices I make...is the best choice I can make to eat six of those delicious mini-cupcakes that Kristina brought to my holiday party...or is it a better decisions to much on that crispy organic granny smith apple that I bought down at the Global Market? I understand that part of this will be down right trickery...cuz my brain and my gullet both know that half a dozen mini-cupcakes are sure going to taste a lot better than one nasty old granny smith apple...but in the long run I will feel better and look better and live healthier. I'm good enough. I'm smart enough. And gosh darn it they might make apples taste like mini-cupcakes one day.

But for real though, waking up in the morning and looking at each decision consciouslly as a way to improve myself, my life, and be an all around better person is a way to allow myself to reduce the chaos in which I tend to exist.  Was that last sentence anywhere near grammatically correct?

So, I resolve in 2007 to live each day to the best of my ability to the best of my circumstances and to make the best choices available to me at the moment when I make them. If I do that, I have a sneaky feeling that I might just have my best year ever.

Feliz Ano Nuevo

To all my friends and loved ones...I wish you the best, brightest, and happiest of days in 2007.

And let's all hope together that the world is a little bit saner, a little bit calmer, and the Bush Administration stops getting a little bit dumber as the year goes by.