My Ethnicity versus My Hometown

Several nights ago, my friend, Julio & I were at Blake's. We were having a particularly good time considering the fact that it was a Monday night in December, and very few people were out. It was also fairly late when we got there, but the DJ started playing some older stuff after he played his requisite Rhianna, Britney, Madonna, etc. The crowd got really into it, and Julio, being the avid dancer he is, pulled me into the "dance area" of the bar. We danced to Donna Summer, Michael Jackson, and C+C Music Factory, among others.

Julio was being flirty, as usual, so we met some people we hadn't previously met. One was particularly interested in Julio, so Julio gave him his number. Afterwards, Julio moved onto the next guy, an older gentleman who happened to be a very good dancer. I say older, but he was probably my age. As they chatted over by the bar, I sat at one of the hightops next to the windows. Guy #1 came over to me and introduced himself to me. He wore a baseball cap and was probably in his mid-20s. Without a second to waste, he asked me, "Where are you from?"

"New York," I answered.

"Duh," he said.

"What?"

"Beyond that," he said.

"Are you asking me what my ethnicity is?" I asked.

"Ummm, yeah," he answered.

"Well, where I'm from and my ethnicity are two different things," I reasoned with him, who was visibly intoxicated. "My Mom is from El Salvador, and my Dad is American of Irish and Welsh descent."

I don't know why I chose a drunk, country boy in Atlanta to correct, but I guess I was a little frustrated with this simple, yet slightly offensive concept.

Almost every day, a person wants to ask me "What are you?" And, unfortunately, here in Georgia, fewer than most people know how to ask. I'm very used to the inquiry, which I get almost every single time I meet a new person, but after having lived in Atlanta for three years, I guess I want people to ask me with some discretion instead of blurting something out that says to me, "You are different, and we don't see folks like you around much."

I was born in Greenwich, Connecticut, where I went to high school, but I grew up in Port Chester, New York. After high school, I moved to Boston to go to college. I'm very proud of my ethnic heritage, and I've been to El Salvador and Ireland, both more than once. They're both beautiful countries, and I want to explore them further. However, I've never lived in any other country other than the United States. So, when a person asks me where I'm from, my first assumption is to answer the question with the proper answer. I don't see why I have to assume that the person asking is more interested in where my parents, grandparents, and ancestors are from.

I didn't get upset with drunkie at the bar, but I did correct a person for the first time, and I don't think I was wrong to. In Boston, where I lived for eleven years prior to my move to Atlanta, people were just as curious to know what my ethnicity is, but they asked with discretion. Here, people don't realize that when they ask one thing, and mean something else, they are pointing out the fact that I look different than they do, and that I'm the one who's different. It's crass and ignorant, but it isn't ill-intentioned. So, what am I to do?

I just want to put this out there so that people will think about this a little differently. The United States is made up of all different kinds of people, and we all need to exercise a little sensitivity when we want to ask about each other's differences. We should really stop thinking that there is more of one type of person than another, or that this demographic is smaller than that one. Let's embrace diversity! Let's instead complement each other on our exotic looks and forget about our parents. We're all individuals and we should be proud of heritage, but the here-and-now is what is most important, so let's assume we're all Americans, and let's talk about sex instead!

Two Years Without Alcohol . . .

. . . and I don't miss it at all!

Today is a truly awesome day. It feels like just another day, except people in all aspects of my life are congratulating me, mostly in person and via text messages. The Program Director of Purple Treatment called me a "Miracle" today. That blew me away! But I guess it is a miracle. I went from being completely dependent upon alcohol to check my email, go grocery shopping, to simply meet with another human being; to knowing and understanding the truth: that I don't need alcohol for anything. And that, in fact, I am a pretty cool guy who should be secure and confident. When I drank, I feared life. Without it, I relish life.

I woke up today with some negativity swirling around in my head. I realized it was my AA Birthday, and I knew I had to promptly get out of bed and seize the day to fully appreciate and celebrate the occasion. I also had a busy day scheduled. I devoted the morning to Mark's home search, so I got ready, ate breakfast at Waffle House, and waited for him to pick me up. We saw one listing Mark liked out of the several, but we had to be back around noon so that he could get to work on time.

I picked up my car at my mechanic's and drove home. I had been without my car for almost two weeks, and because of the cold weather and Atlanta's incompetent transit system, MARTA, I was ready to pull my newly grown long hair out. I was so happy to get my car back! It was like receiving a present for my birthday! I went home, and had a long lunch with Pumba & Simba. I had to be at the gym at 3, and because I forgot how quickly it is to get around with a car, I got there early, just in time to get a free manicure from Helmet's new Nail Technician, CJ. She's a very sweet woman who is an expert with nails, in fact, she finds it relaxing to do nails.

In recent months, I've become more carefree with my alcoholic status. So, my co-workers and many gym members were congratulating me. Meanwhile, friends & family in Chicago, Boston, San Diego, and Connecticut were texting me their well-wishes. My boss & best friend, Jay, bought me dinner tonight from one of my favorite restaurants in the ATL, Top Spice. Another best friend, Mo, suggested that we have a Chocolate Party to celebrate this weekend. What a cool idea!

I'm happy. I'm really happy. My life is really coming together nicely. I'm moving into my own apartment at the end of the month because my roommate's parents came to Atlanta from Houston to get him, and I'm finally making money! I started a second part-time job as the assistant to a very busy, large-scale event planner to supplement my income, and I love it! In fact, I've been so busy this week, that I haven't worked this much since I worked at Joe's on Juniper last Spring. Some days, I start with real estate at 9 a.m., and finish with the gym at 11 p.m., and I'm happy to be busy. If I have time on my hands to do nothing, negative thoughts permeate my brain, and things become unpleasant and uncomfortable. I also have control over my own schedule, which is a wonderful, yet dangerous thing. Discipline is more important than ever, if I am to continue to prosper.

I've learned so much in the passed two years, that it is just amazing. In fact, two years ago, I was still very much a kid, a young adult. In these two years, I've been tested, I've made mistakes, and I've learned. And no matter what, I didn't drink. :-)

What A Fabulous Thanksgiving!

It's very early in the morning, and I'm just reflecting on the Thanksgiving I had. I got home about an hour ago, but I'm gonna start at twenty-four hours ago.

Julio & I were out at Blake's last night, & we were pretty bored. We were at Jay's bar chatting with him, but the rest of the crowd weren't doing enough for us, so we decided to head to Heretic. I'd heard that the night before Thanksgiving was the club's busiest night of the year. And I traditionally go out the night before holidays because it's what the gay community has done for years in the Big Apple & Beantown. Julio was driving, & I was texting Jeremy. I had seen him the night before, & he mentioned that he was thinking Heretic, too.

We got to the club & ran into several guys from the gym, so we made our rounds & noticed that the club wasn't enforcing the dress code, which was a little disappointing. Normally on Wednesday nights, one must remove his shirt or be dressed in leather/fetishwear to get into the dance area. We were hanging out with Mark, Allen, Eddie, & Trey when Jeremy walked in. Julio & Trey had claimed to have never met my Ex, but when Jeremy joined us, they knew him. So, I was like, "How do you guys all know each other?" I had forgotten that Jeremy was a member of Gravity Fitness for a brief month before he joined a fitness activity that only included a "cowbell" for the low, low price of $80/mo. He never was the expert decision-maker; and he still follows fads. By the way, he's a great person.

We danced all night & worked up an appetite, so Julio & I went to Waffle House at 3 a.m., which we love to do because we're morning people. It was freezing inside, as usual, so I kept my coat on. As we decided on which type of grease we were in the mood for, we watched & listened to the boisterous table of drag queens who insisted upon entertaining the whole restaurant. They were funny, at first, but they were so over-the-top melodramatic & drunk that they quickly became annoying. A tension developed, & one of the servers started to become annoyed and said something to them. A drag queen called her a dyke, & the fun was over.

No less than seven cop cars showed up, & a cop ushered the drag queens out. We finished our food as I told Julio that after going through the fiasco of just one DUI in my life, I would never argue with a cop who could easily arrest me as the drag queens were doing. Julio dropped me off at home at 4:30 a.m., and I went to bed that Thanksgiving morning very thankful to be going to bed in my own bed with my kitties snuggled up with me.

--

I wanted to sleep in & catch up on my rest, so I didn't get out of bed until well into the afternoon, and I didn't even feel bad about it! I made some coffee, heated up some leftovers, & fed Pumba & Simba tuna fish especially for Thanksgiving Day. Since it was late in the day, I had already received a bunch of well-wishing texts, which is a new Thanksgiving phenomenon. So, I plugged my cell phone into my laptop & responded. I also sent out a mass text to those I hadn't yet heard from. As I drank coffee & waited for all the messages to be sent, I spoke to my parents & Seamus in New York. It was so good to hear from them! I decided that I must go home for Christmas.

Since it was a holiday that I was not spending with my family, I wanted to spend time with others in recovery. I called Rand, & he was kind enough to offer to pick me up for the 8 p.m. Rooms to Grow meeting at the Galano Club. I've been without personal transportation since Monday when my car broke down. It needs a new starter which I think I'll be able to get tomorrow. Rand was Discussion Leader at the meeting, & because it was Thanksgiving, he appropriately chose Gratitude as the topic. Everyone shared wonderful things they were grateful for, & I pondered my own sobriety & the friends & family I'm grateful for. Next week, God-willing, I'll be picking up a chip for living without alcohol for two years. It's a really wonderful thing.

After the meeting, Brian, Rand, & I decided to see the movie, Milk, which was an amazing & important movie all gay people should see. It follows the historic political career of Harvey Milk in San Francisco in the '70s. Wow! What an inspiring story! The three of us went to Blake's after, and I told people that the movie has inspired me to run for office, specifically, mayor of Atlanta! My first night of campaigning went quite well. The several people I asked to vote for me said they absolutely will, so I'm off to a good start!

Tomorrow's gonna be a busy one, so I'm off to bed. What a fabulous Thanksgiving!

An Exploratory Phase

I met someone recently. I'm not going to divulge much, mainly to protect his privacy; but I do wish I could write everything down! I also must be very sensitive about which details I mention because others don't quite see him the way I do. I'm not the type to listen to others much for relationship advice, however, I did ask for opinions, and I got opinions I didn't quite want to hear. Anyway, I appreciate the fact that my friends think highly of me, and I understand that they are hoping I'll wait for someone perfect to come along; but I see a lot of goodness in this person, and I want to explore a bit further.

I felt a little insecure at first because of our substantial age difference. That went away today. I offered to take him to the DMV this morning so that he turn in his Florida license, get a Georgia one, and register to vote all at once. I had some things I had to do today, but I got up really early (very unlike me), and I wanted to spend time with him. Not to mention, this upcoming election is extremely important, because of how it relates to me, of course. If the republicans happen to win again, I'm moving to a resort town in Mexico, probably Puerto Vallarta, because of how gay it is. Once I'm confident about my Spanish, I'll move to Spain to marry a beautiful man
and live happily ever after, and the United States can suffer at the hands of the oppressors!

Okay, back from my tangent! Before we went to the DMV, we stopped for a bite at Flying Biscuit, and I felt as though the age difference only matters if I let it. It's actually extremely refreshing to spend time with someone younger, and I certainly don't have to act my age around him! It's kind of like an escape. I'm also learning a lot about video games and music; and I certainly don't think it's a waste of time because there is so much going on today that I can't keep track of that is really shaping our future. If I didn't have such experiences, I'd grow up to be an ignorant old geezer who can't work any new gadgets. That would be a nightmare! I must keep with the times!

After the DMV, we went to the FMLS office in Sandy Springs because I needed to activate a couple of lockboxes on my account that I bought from eBay. He's so laid back as young people are, that he was happy to accompany me. I thought we should do something fun after that, so we stopped in at the costume shop next to Gravity Fitness to get ideas for Halloween, which is in only one month. He's an extremely gifted artist, and he brought along a sketch of a woodland nymph he wanted to be. I've seen some of his work, and the sketch was very detailed, like his other drawings. We tried on several things, and we had a really fun time figuring out what we might dress up as. I don't always enjoy the whole Halloween production because, in the past, I've felt that the holiday overshadows my birthday, which is the day before. But this year, I'll go with the flow and embrace Halloween by having a masquerade birthday party, which Ernesto is going to plan, possibly with the help of Sparkles.

I guess that's what I'm doing with Nymph, just going with the flow. I don't know what to expect, and I'm not even sure what I want. I've been happily single for many months, but the passed couple of weeks have been fun, and I've enjoyed getting to know him. In the past, I've needed to be in control of every situation, so it's new and different to have a more passive attitude. It's nice! It's cool! It's also really wonderful to not be with someone who's trying to control me!! Wow! He doesn't mind what I do with my time, and he respects my privacy. This is still very early on, and expectations are low, so things may progress. I don't know. Regardless of what happens, I'm going to have fun exploring!

A Very Worthy Cause

Labor Day Weekend is over, and I'm about to head back to Atlanta. I spent the weekend with my family in New York, and the highlight was meeting and spending time with my new niece, Nicole Sofie Malin. She was born on July 15th to my brother, Bill, and his wife, Margot. Nicole is really beautiful; she has naturally tanned skin thanks to her Latin influences from both parents, dark brown hair and eyes, chubby cheeks from her Mom, and a prominent forehead from her Dad. I held her and fed her several times over the weekend, and it seemed to me that maybe taking care of a baby would be pretty simple. But before I start making assumptions and plans to adopt a small bundle of my own, I remember that I'm not home with her at night, and that my life allows me the freedom to spontaneously hang out with friends when I want or take a weekend trip somewhere. The thought reminds me to be grateful for my self-cleaning kitties at home who require no special attention, but who provide me with plenty of unconditional love, nonetheless.

The other reason for my visit was to attend the wedding of a childhood friend and neighbor. I grew up in Port Chester, New York, next door to a Filipino family. The two kids, Geralynn and Joe were very close to the ages of my brothers and me, so the five of us would play together and grow up alongside each other. While I lived in Boston during and after college, Geralynn and Joe also lived there, and I'd randomly run into one of them out at a club occassionally. Geralynn returned to Port Chester a couple of years ago to save money and figure out where in the US she wants to live next. She's a successful pharmacist, and can move anywhere she wants after her parents retire in Las Vegas next year. On my last day in New York, she and I had lunch together, and I asked her to take a weekend trip to Atlanta so that I can show her around for her consideration. It would be nice to have another Northern friend close-by.

Joe also left Boston and moved to Norwalk, Connecticut, with his then-fiance. So, this passed weekend, the two tied the knot at a Catholic Church (shudder) in Norwalk, and then had their reception at the famous Surf Club in New Rochelle, New York. It was an awesome wedding! The food was fabulous, and the guests were a wonderful mix of Filipino, American, and Latino (the bride is from Central or South America; I can't remember which country). But the best part of the reception was Venetian Hour, which was an extravagant montage of desserts, including everything from apple streudle to chocolate fountains to chocolate chip cookies to cigars! And what party would not be complete without some good old-fashioned, Malin-family drama! My little brother, Jim, brought his ex-girlfriend, Paula, who the rest of the family doesn't think much of. So, at my table was Bill and Margot to my left, and my Dad, Jim, and Paula to my right. Billy and Paula are both seasoned drinkers, and they commenced their talent immediately. Occassionally, Paula would return to the table with no less than two drinks at a time! And every time Margot and I would wonder where Billy was, we would turn to one of the bars and spot him. It was so funny! And we thought it was only a matter of time before Billy and Paula got into a fight. Much to our dismay, there was no confrontation, however, both of them left the reception quite intoxicated.

Instead of returning to Atlanta on Monday, I stayed a few extra days to spend time with my parents and brothers, and to hang out in Manhattan. I visited a couple of friends in the city, but I didn't go out to any gay nightlife venues on this trip. I was fine with that, and I had a great time just kind of relaxing.

--


I returned to Atlanta on Wednesday night thinking about the up-coming weekend. Saturday night would be the famed Atlanta Cotillion, which is an annual fund-raiser for AIDAtlanta, a non-profit organization who helps people with HIV and AIDS. While I was in New York, my friend, Jeffrey, called me asking me to help with the event. I had already wanted to go, but I didn't think I could afford the $150 ticket, so this opportunity to volunteer could not have happened to a more willing person.

The Cotillion has been going on for years, and last year, my former husband, Jeremy, was a debutante. The "debs" raise money for four months prior to the event, and the drag queen who raises the most wins, and is crowned queen of the Cotillion. The debs have pool parties and other fun fund-raising events throughout the summer leading up to the Cotillion. I've known several passed-debutantes, even a few winners, but I've never had the chance to go until this year.

I decided that although I'd be "working" at the event, I still wanted to look appropriate for the black-tie event. However, I was asked to help at the last minute, and when I went to rent a tux, it was too late. I went to Men's Wearhouse to check out their tuxedos for purchase, and I ended up getting a great deal on one. So, I blow-dried my hair (which I'm currently growing out), got all decked-out, and headed to the function.

Those with decision-making power decided that this year's event would be a masquerade. So, during a break from my shift at the gym, I walked into the costume shop next to Gravity Fitness on Faulkner Road and purchased a mask for myself with a flaming look to it, and one on a stick for my friend, Chris, who was going in drag. Chris is a very tall man, so when he does drag, he's quite an immense woman. My new friend, Julio, who works at Helmet (inside Gravity Fitness) was also asked to serve a purpose for the event. My friend, Jeffrey (famous for the character, Jeffrey Blooms on tv's Who's Wedding Is It? created a Marie Antoinette look for Julio. But Jeffrey took the costume a bit further with his creativity by hollowing out a round table for Julio to be in the middle of. The costume went over both of them, and that allowed the table to serve as a dress that served drinks. Julio was a "living table." Very cool!

My friend, Patrick and I were asked to help out by wearing head-set microphones so that we could be the communication between back-stage and the sound area out among the dinner tables. It was all very interesting and fun; in fact, it didn't feel like work at all! The show itself consisted of my friend, Jeffrey as Mistress of Ceremonies (in a gorgeous, silver-screen ball gown), and debutantes and queens of passed years. The importance of AIDAtlanta's mission was a theme throughout the night, and I became slightly emotional as they spoke of how much good the Cotillion does for people living with HIV. Because of AIDAtlanta, people who would otherwise be inelligible for medical care get the help they need to continue their lives as normal human beings. People are treated with respect and dignity at AIDAtlanta, and living with HIV no longer has to be a nightmare. So, when they announced that this year's debutantes raised over $104,000, tears formed in my eyes, and I felt as though I was a part of something so much bigger than me, and it was something very, very good.

The winning debutante raised by herself over $27,000, so they passed her the crown, and she did her little runway walk. The whole show seemed to move along very quickly, and before I knew it, it was after eleven, and people were waiting to get their cars from valet. A gentleman teetering next to me told the valet that he was too drunk to drive, and that he just needed his keys. I thanked God that moment that I was sober, and that my night was just beginning! The after-party was taking place at WETbar, of course, so Chris, Julio, & I piled into the Rodeo, and headed off.

The Cotillion people were the night's VIPs at the club, so we walked in ahead of a line of people waiting outside and all the way around the corner. I caught a glimpse of Seth & Nathan, along with their own coterie, waiting in the long line. We walked into a club full of drag queens, handsome tuxedo-ed men, and club kids, all mixing and conversing as though it were any other night at the world-famous WET. I tried to greet as many people as I could, and then I hung out with Seth & Nathan for a bit to catch up. They recently got married in Piedmont Park at a wedding ceremony that was one of the most beautiful I've been to.

At around a quarter to two, we decided to take our mobile party to Blake's. Chris, Julio, and I were the only Cotillion people there, so the drunks at Blake's were quite taken by our lavish outfits. We did a "fruit loop" and then had our pictures taken by the photographers who frequent the bar. Unfortunately, Julio had to call it a night because of work the following morning, so we said "Goodbye" to him. But Chris and I were far from done. We're both alcoholics in recovery, so we can go all night, if need be! Jeffrey told us of a hot-tub party that was going on off Cheshire Bridge Road, so we headed in that direction. As we arrived, we noticed that nothing naughty was going on in the hot tub, so we quickly left. Just kidding!! The guys lent us a couple of swimsuits (mine was a little, skimpy number), and we joined them in the hot tub for some innocent chat. After a bit, we decided we were hungry, so Chris and I ended our night at, where else?? Waffle House. Nothing's better at six in the morning. What a wonderful night!

I awoke the next afternoon, not hung-over, but refreshed and so very happy that I was a very tiny part of a really huge, and wonderful thing. And all the attention I got in my new tux wasn't so bad either. :D

Small Gay World

It's the last day of July, and as I get ready to close the gym tonight, I think about how this month has been a little bazaar. It's really been a month of ups & downs; I've had some setbacks, but I've also had some interesting learning experiences. As you may have read in my last post, depression had become a concern, but I can say with a fair level of confidence, that it is manageable now, and I look to the future with much optimism. My work as a REALTOR (r) has increased to the point that I'm excited to be an agent, to be showing homes, and to be approaching a closing. I'm also scheduled to be flying to New York for Labor Day Weekend to see my family, including the newest member, my niece, Nicole; and to attend the wedding of a childhood friend. Having a trip to look forward to is just one more good reason to get up in the morning each day and to get motivated to do something productive! My part-time job at the gym keeps me sane, and on some type of a regular schedule. It's also a lot of fun to work with my friend, Jay, and to chat with the gay gym-rats who come here.

July has been a challenging month for my confidence. I've made many big decisions in recovery, but in this passed month, I've come to question how well I've thought about things before making my decisions. I think I've actually come to regret the decision to live with my roommate, Adam, who now claims to have a pretty intense problem living with me. I knew after I returned to the real world in April of 2007 that living with Adam would be a challenge, and the people who I owe my sobriety to told me not to live with him. Anyway, we haven't wanted to live with each other for a while, but we're in a lease, and my plan to live with my friend, Chris, wouldn't happen until December. So, in my mind, nothing was going to change until then. But a week ago, Adam emailed me saying my behavior was a threat to his sobriety, and that he would have to move out by the end of the month, leaving me with a place to pay for and no roommate. To be mild, I was livid. I was so insulted, hurt, and baffled, especially since, he had no home when he was asked to leave rehab, except to live with me. I returned his email with one of a scathing nature that described my frustrations with living with him. My friend & sponsor, and possibly future-roommate, Chris, made me a "roommate-needed" flyer of an extremely professional design, and we put them up at the Galano Club (Gay Alcoholics Anonymous), so that I can find a sober roommate. Oh, and I told Adam he wasn't going anywhere until September.

I was really pissed off, needless to say, but I noticed how I was asking for help, and that the people who care about me, helped. They helped me see that this wasn't as bad as my alcoholic mind was making it out to be. Unfortunately, I isolated a bit, which is not healthy for an alcoholic in recovery, but I also went to meetings, and I went out with my Earth friends, Mo and Sparkles. They're always a hoot, and I like to go out. They're actually pictured in my default MySpace photo right now in case you think you know them. Between Trivia at Joe's on Juniper and Blake's, they know everyone! So, it wasn't the end of the world, and how could I stay upset when Joining Hearts 21 was in just a couple of days!

Every year, for the past twenty years, gay Atlanta gets together to party and raise money for two charity organizations, AID Atlanta and Jerusalem House, and 100% of the cover, tips, everything, goes to the charities. And the party is called Joining Hearts. I went two years ago in the good old days of drinking when they held it at the Piedmont Park pool, and I thought it was the greatest party I had been to in Atlanta. Well..........this year was off the chain! I had heard from a boy who comes to the gym and is also involved with the organization of the party that this was going to be a huge party, and that it was going to be held at the Civic Center, which was where a not-so-exciting Gay Pride Festival was held only a few weeks ago. (Remember?) Well, despite the failure of the Pride Committee, Joining Hearts 21 was a huge success! My expectations were low, so when I arrived to see a "circuit-esque" set-up, complete with a canopy-dance area, a full-on light show, and DJ Roland Belmares at the turn-tables.

Earlier in the week, I was out at the Heretic for the mid-week shirtless party they have on Wednesday nights. I was having a bad week with things that were going on, and I needed to go out and dance. and I met this older guy who kept telling me I was gorgeous. He wanted to buy me drinks, so I let him buy me a Red Bull, and later a diet Coke (which I drink way too much of, since I don't drink alcohol anymore). He was fifty-two, but he looked forty, and he was interesting, so when he asked me out to dinner, I accepted. Later that night, I was with a few friends who wanted to stop by the apartment of someone I didn't know. When we arrived, I met a very attractive thirty-four year-old, somewhat femme hottie! He asked me out on a date, and I was very interested, so I said, "Definitely!" But let me just clarify: I never get asked out twice in the same night.

During this same week, a friend I met when I first moved to Atlanta two & a half years ago, Shawn, called me to buy a home in Kennesaw. I was excited to go house-hunting with him the Saturday of Joining Hearts. He decided on one, and instructed me to write up an offer. I was ecstatic with his decision, and when we were done, I went home to change for the party & to celebrate my up-coming closing! As I drove back from Kennesaw, I spoke to Mike (the femme hottie) on the phone. He said his EX was with him, and that he knew me, too. He had met me at the Heretic on Wednesday night! So, once the two of them (who had dated for almost ten years!) got over the fact that they asked out the same boy on the same night, the three of us decided to go to Joining Hearts together! How crazy! My friend, Seth, who I've known for a decade since we met in Boston, was supposed to accompany me to the party, but then had to go to a birthday party instead.

I noticed earlier in the week that Mike drank a fair amount of alcohol, but I didn't think much of it. I just assume that everyone other than myself (aside from the other alcoholics I know) is a normal drinker. But then the three of us got to Joining Hearts, and Mike disappeared after only a few minutes. Joe (the other EX) & I danced almost the whole night, and had a great time; but Mike never returned. Before he disappeared, he asked a bartender to fill up his large plastic cup with a little ice & vodka, only. I thought to myself, "Wow! That's totally something I've done!" Joe & I talked about it for a bit, and I disclosed some of my story to him, and he said that he wanted Mike to go to rehab. Unfortunately, he is not ready yet, and if he's not ready, no one else can really help get him there. An alcoholic must live in pain & suffering until he/she reaches rock-bottom. Once he asks for help, there is so much that can be done, but not until then.

As Joe & I danced, I felt as though I were at the WinterParty in South Beach, or on an Atlantis vacation. The only reminder that I was in Atlanta was a familiar face here and there, and the illuminated skyline as the sun set into beautiful pinks & purples. I knew I wasn't going to be interested in dating Joe, but I thought we would make fabulous friends. He knew more of the older crowd at the party, and I got to meet some distinguished people.

At about ten pm, a singer came out on stage with three drag queens who had been dancing with the crowd. One of the drag queens was my ex-husband, Jeremy. He and the other two girls were in matching outfits with these arrangements on their heads. I waved to Jeremy from the dance floor; he looked like he was having a great time. Abigail, the young singer of maybe twenty-five, was very attractive, with long straight, brown hair, and a very fit body. She started her performance with one of my all-time favorite songs, and the theme song to my Senior Prom, back in Greenwich, Connecticut: Forever Young, by Alphaville. Abigail's rendition was a dance/club version, that really got the crowd going. She followed it with a couple of circuit anthems, and then was finished. As Jeremy walked off the stage following his back-up performance, I said , "Hello," and I told him he did a great job. He said he was having a great time. The party thinned-out, but Joe wanted to stay until the very end because he was anticipating some fireworks, which they customarily have. We waited, but there were no fireworks. We finished up the night at Joe's Versace-like mansion in Buckhead with some friends, where I also got to meet a TV celebrity whose studio happens to be adjacent to my gym. Small gay world.

I love parties, I love to dance, and I love to hang out and socialize. And I think I always will. If I can keep doing those things, I don't need alcohol. People ask me how I do it, but I now know that I never needed to drink; once I learned some humility and became comfortable in my own skin, I became outgoing, I became flirty, I was funny. I never needed it, and I never had a craving at Joining Hearts or at the second party at Opera on Sunday night, which Joe & I went to as well. That party was a toned-down version of Joining Hearts with the proceeds going to the same charities. I got to meet DJ David Knapp, and he made it a point to remember my name! Very sweet guy. He asked if Joe & I were a couple, and I practically yelled, "No, David, I'm single!"

Health & Gaydar in Disrepair!

Just a warning, this might be a long one. Not sure yet!

We last left off at the end of June, just before I got sick. Have you ever had strep throat? If not, DON'T EVER GET IT! And for those of you who have, you know all about the complete Hell I endured for about a week. Not to mention the accompanying depression, which was completely unforseen! Anyway, I was out with Edward & Sparkles at Blake's on Saturday evening before Pride weekend, and I felt as though the headache and body aches I was starting to feel were getting worse. I went home, planning on having some Tylenol, and going back out, but I ended up lying on my sofa, and then going to bed at midnight! Yes, for me, going to bed before midnight rarely happens, especially on a Saturday night! OMG! I slept for seventeen hours, until 5:00 pm the next day, and I felt like a sickness had come over me and had infiltrated every region of my body. My throat was in extreme pain, and eating was next to impossible. Each part of my body ached, and moving around the apartment was a chore. Even though I felt the way I did, I thought it would go away, because I don't really get sick. But on Tuesday, I had to call in sick to the gym, and Jay, my friend & boss, wasn't happy with me. He suggested going to the doctor (which I wouldn't have done, except he mentioned it), so I called my new Atlanta doctor, and I went in that afternoon.

I thought about asking someone to drive me, but I thought I would have a tough time finding someone during the day on a Tuesday, so I told myself that I had to drive, and that everything would be okay. So, I got in my car, said the Serenity Prayer a few times, and drove, like an old man, all the way to the doctor's office. He gave me antibiotics, told me to shovel ibuprofen into myself every few hours (because I also had a high fever), and said I'd be better by the weekend. He's gay, and he knew what weekend it was. ;-)

As I slowly improved, depression set in, and with all the channels cable has to offer, I ran out of TV to watch. Things like laundry, I knew I could do even though I was sick, but I had no motivation to do anything around my apartment. I barely even went online, and there's nothing easier than that. I checked my MySpace probably a couple of times in that whole week. I knew that if I picked up the Big Book or something inspirational to read, I'd feel better. But depression affects me in a way that it controls my thoughts by keeping me from doing the things that will make me feel better, and thus I stay in an unhealthy mental state. I recently bought Congnitive Behavioral Therapy for Dummies because I've looked into it, and it seems to be the next step after recovery material, like the Big Book. It's very similar, and it makes sense to me. And the For Dummies book promises to make me my own therapist. I had plenty of time to read it, but I never opened it that week. Depression doesn't make sense. For those of you who've suffered from it, you know what I mean.

The most important project of the week was totally neglected by me. Atlanta's Gay Pride was only a couple of days away, and I was thinking at this point, that we wasted a lot of money reserving a booth for Abode Realty. I felt bad in every sense of the word. I kind of felt like a failure the terrible way I felt before I stopped drinking. Here I am living in sobriety, and I can't even handle putting together a booth for Pride. To my surprise, Roel, my broker, was working on it! But why? Isn't Roel straight?? Once it wasn't too painful to speak on the phone, I called Roel and learned that he and a gay friend were putting together a booth that would be real estate and these beautiful home decor pieces that Roel sells in one of his other businesses. But isn't he going to be afraid of all the gay people at the Civic Center?? No matter, I met up with him and Regan (gay male friend, hmmm) on Friday evening at the booth where we opened at 6 pm. I was a little drained, but able to eat and walk. I also was no longer contaigious.

It felt so good to be around people! I am a true believer that we all need each other, and although I was still a bit weak, I was so happy and excited to be around everyone. In fact, after we closed at 9 pm, I went out. I had to explain the those I encountered that I was no longer contaigious, and the kiss they just gave me wasn't a death sentence. It was fun, but I stayed for only a short time. The next day, I was back at the booth at the Civic Center, which, by the way, was a weird place for a Gay Pride Festival, because the festival took place in a parking lot. It wasn't half bad, though, because every so often, someone I knew would come say "Hi!"

At some point during the day, Roel & I were sitting together in the booth, and we started talking about personal things. Up to this point, he & I had a strictly professional relationship, as broker and agent. But at the festival, we had plenty of time to chat. I knew he knew I was gay because you'd have to be from Southern Georgia to not know. (For some reason, people from that region of the world can't tell I'm gay.) I'm pretty obviously gay, so I just assume that everyone knows. He asked me if I was dating anyone, and he asked me about passed relationships. I'm an open book when comes to such things, so I spoke openly about being single for a year-and-a-half, and about my failed marriage to my ex-husband, Jeremy. He then told me that he's been seeing his friend, Regan, someone who's been helping out in our office while we didn't have an administrative assistant. I knew Regan was gay, because he's like me; pretty obvious. But Roel is older and Phillipino, and I always assumed that he was straight, so when he told me this, I was like, "Oh My God!"

"What??" Roel asked.

"Oh my god!" I gasped again.

Roel, at this point was thinking I knew Regan on another level. "What's the matter?"

"I feel so silly now because I always thought you were straight!" I said.

"Me?? Oh puhleeeease!!"

Later, I went for a walk around the festival, and when I came back, Regan & Roel were laughing at me. I felt really silly, but I also still thought it was funny, and we all laughed for a while. So, from time-to-time, my gaydar isn't 100%, and that's fine, because I'm not perfect, and things stay interesting.

A Big, Gay Gym...and a Gay Beach

Wow! It's been a minute since my last blog, so I'm going to cover quite a bit today. Having my life back after working at Joe's on Juniper has been enjoyable, but it also has brought back familiar challenges that I didn't have to deal with while working within the confines of a mandatory schedule. You see, I'm a disciplined person with plenty of room for improvement, and when I have a job where I'm treated like a number with a schedule I have to stick to, I tend to obey those restrictions. When I'm working for myself, and the only person who is holding me accountable is myself, I kind of behave like water outside of the container I should be confined to. I guess I've been fighting discipline and punctuality my whole life as a form of rebellion.

In the last year & a half, I've learned that happiness does not come with simply following my will wherever it leads me, but instead, taming my will by trying to do the next right thing actually allows for more peace and serenity in life. So, once I left Joe's I found myself with more free time than I had been used to since starting at the restaurant in February. Before I left, I got another part-time job at Gravity Fitness, working along side one of my recently-acquired best-friends, Jay, and I absolutely love working there! It's a far healthier atmosphere, with little or no stress, and a schedule that allows me to service the new listings and leads I've acquired since leaving Joe's. The real estate market is so unpredictable right now, but we've heard from dependable sources that we, as a nation in crisis, have hit bottom, and things will only go up from here. This is excellent and encouraging news for those of us who have been sticking it out in real estate with the hope of better times.

So, working at Gravity is a trip! People absolutely gravitate to Jay! I don't remember the last time I've seen someone as adored as he is throughout the gay community in Atlanta. It is a blessing to have him as a friend. He is a very sweet and funny person with a personality that attracts everyone. So, he is the assistant manager at the gym, and his ex, James, is the 38-year-old, hunky, laid-back, flashy owner of Gravity and WetBar. At first, I found James to be intimidating because of the bickering that goes on between the two. But now that I've been there for a bit, I enjoy James's quick, yet indifferent, wit.

The clients of the gym are 99% gay men. Need I say more? I don't know why I didn't think of this type of job before! I told Jay that I'd better be hit on at the gym or I'm quitting! I do have a thing for the men who are attentive to their physiques, but I'm also cautious of the same men because of their self-centeredness. I'll happily make compromises as those situations occur. I'm not sure if the clientele know what to think of me yet, but they're friendly, and that's really all I ask. Besides, what they think of me is none of my business; and I'm there to attend to their needs. So, it's a fun, easy job, where I can socialize while I make some extra much-needed cash, and get out of my own head.

Also, since I left Joe's, I had the opportunity to go away for a weekend with a bunch of sober friends. My friends, Eric and Rand, who attend meetings at Galano, were planning on spending a weekend on Kiawah Island, South Carolina. When they heard that I was no longer enslaved at Joe's, they invited me along. I, in turn, invited my friend Chris, who was celebrating his One-Year of Sobriety that weekend to come with us. Eric's friend, Brett, also in recovery and a server at Roxx, came as well. It was a low-key, relaxing weekend at Eric's family house in an exclusive complex along the ocean just south of Charleston. We also went in to Charleston for some delicious seafood, a tour of the historic city, and of course, the local gay bar. Chris and I argued all weekend about which one of us would succeed in sleeping with Eric, who is a 35-year-old, blonde, hunky, doctor; but we were both too chicken to make a move. I forgot to mention that we went to a gay meeting in Charleston on Saturday before our night on the town, and shares were not voluntary! I was called on after only two people shared, and my mind went blank. I forgot what the topic of the meeting was, so I said something about being grateful for gay meetings all over the country. I think maybe the older fellows liked me and wanted me to speak. I don't blame them. On Sunday, we decided to go Charleston's gay beach, which we knew wouldn't be like South Beach, but there were a handful of guys hanging around, and a few recognized us from the meeting the previous evening. We hung out with them under the overcast sky and made the best of our "gay beach" experience. It was great to hang out with the guys and escape Atlanta for a weekend. Now, of course, I want to travel more!

What's Left of Me?

One thing I dislike more than many things is reading or listening to someone complain, and that is not the point of my blog, so I'm going to tell you about how my employment with Joe's on Juniper came to an end with the least whining possible. I guess it was just a matter of time, as it is in the restaurant industry. Working at Joe's is tough, and since we've enjoyed summertime weather for the passed several weeks, the restaurant has been very busy. When we're busy, it's not any one's intention to take advantage of the servers, but we have to work harder and longer hours. When I returned from New York after Memorial Day Weekend, my schedule at Joe's had drastically changed. I was scheduled to work back-to-back doubles all week, and at first I was upset to the point that I almost quit. I remembered that in recovery, I must live on "life's terms," not my terms, so I didn't share my disgust and accepted my schedule, and worked it. However, I told Mika, our manager who arranges the schedule that I would soon be cutting my hours back to focus more on real estate. The market has recently shown indication that better times are on the way; in fact, I acquired a new listing this passed week. I also told Mika that I would not be at their disposal for Gay Pride Weekend because I would be manning the Abode Realty booth the entire weekend. I worked almost sixty hours that week at Joe's, and did it again this passed week.

Change was on my mind when I decided to email my old sponsor who I stopped calling just after I started working at Joe's in February. If you know a thing or two about recovery, you know that I am supposed to call my sponsor on a regular basis, which I haven't done partially because of my overwhelming schedule. I emailed him to tell him that I'm doing well, and that I just celebrated a year and a half of sobriety on June 4th. He and his girlfriend have been very busy with their newborn baby girl, and I wanted to see how the new family was doing. The next day he called me, and it was so wonderful to hear his voice and to catch up with him. He is one of the biggest reasons why I have stayed sober for eighteen months without relapse, and I owe him a huge debt of gratitude. Fatherhood has been treating him well, and the baby actually sleeps completely through the night! What a blessing!

When I told him about my schedule, and how my AA meetings have become very infrequent, he showed much concern. I told him things were about to change, and my recovery would soon become the top priority it should always be, before work, before boys, before anything.

That night at Joe's, we were understaffed, and it was Crazy Bitch Bingo night, which is drawing quite a crowd, thanks to the antics of our very funny server, Bryen. Long story short, we were slammed and didn't have the support necessary, especially when one of our servers, completely overwhelmed, walked out on an entire section of the inside restaurant and quit. It really was a bit of a nightmare.

So, when I got home last night after 3 a.m., I emailed Mika a resignation letter explaining that I can't keep up with the demanding schedule. I honestly feel bad about it, but I know myself, and I knew I would be useless on only four hours of sleep per night. And I meant it when I wrote in my letter that it was a pleasure to work there. I've gained some really fun friends in the experience, and I will always have a respect and admiration for those in the service industry.

It's late afternoon, and I'm having some coffee. I just got off the phone with a very good friend who also happens to be an alcoholic. I just told him about how Joe's is no more, so plans were made for the 8 p.m. meeting at the Galano Club where we'll watch another friend pick up a chip to symbolize his multiple years without a drink, and then we'll all go out to dinner to celebrate. And who knows, maybe we'll head to WetBar for some after-dinner diet Cokes!

Wow! I suddenly have a life again!

Too little sleep & even less Coffee

I'm flying back to Atlanta, and I feel like the weekend went by so quickly. I don't know if it's because I didn't do everything I wanted to do, like hang out with some old friends, or because so much happened in such a short time. Each hour seemed action-packed; in fact, I even sacrificed precious sleep time so as not to miss a moment.

My parents picked me up at the airport at 10 pm, and we made the ten-minute drive to the house I grew up in. Margot, my relatively new sister-in-law greeted me, and soon Billy & Seamus also joined us. We sat around the kitchen table that night and talked about Margot's pregnancy, my latest goings-on, crazy trouble my brothers' & I got into as kids, and what it's like to be as old as my parents, until three in the morning.

We all slept pretty late the next day, and once I was awake and feeling alive, I felt a bit trapped without a car. So, my mom & I went back to the airport and rented a Pontiac Grand Prix. I had one on a previous trip and decided that it had the pick-up I'd need if I decided to venture into the city and compete with the agressive and self-righteous driver's of Manhattan. With my new, rented freedom, I went to Greenwich Avenue, the Rodeo Drive of the Northeast, and did a little shopping.

On previous trips, I've given my brothers the opportunity to plan the evening outings, but because they are painfully indecisive and plans could take hours before fruition, I made plans to meet up with my friend, Michelle, at a bar in White Plains before heading solo into Manhattan for a circuit-like party at Webster Hall.

Billy & I met up with Michelle and her siblings at the Brazen Fox in White Plains where one of the sisters was celebrating her twenty-first. Michelle & I caught up on things we've been doing recently, and we told some stories about fun times in high school. Seamus ended up meeting us there almost an hour later. It was getting late, and Alegria was calling my name.

Every other month or so, thousands of shirtless, swirling & twirling gay men get together for a huge, all-night party called Alegria, which is Spanish for "joyfull." I've always wanted to go, but I had never been in New York when one was occurring, so I decided that tonight was going to be the night.

I stepped into Webster Hall, a huge and famous nightclub that is featured in the beginning clips of "To, Wong Fu," paid the seventy-dollar cover charge, and joined the party. I've been to many cities in the US, Canada, Mexico, & Europe, and aside from Barcelona, New York has always had the best-looking gay community. But on this night, all the Hotties must have been out of town in Fire Island or Provincetown, because the sea of shirtless men left much to be desired. I wasn't looking for Mr. Right or even for Mr. Right Now! but one does enjoy a grope by a Cutie every so often. No matter. I toured the huge, old building before I settled at a spot at the bar next to the dance floor to enjoy an energizing Red Bull on ice. World-class DJ Tony Moran was at the turntables, and I really started to feel the music, so I took my shirt off, finished my drink, and joined the throngs of men on the dance floor. For a minute, it amazed me how enjoyable the music was even though I was totally sober! It was a serene feeling.

Back at the bar, a drag queen was telling me how beautiful my eyes were. She was sweet and her friend was sorta cute, so we all danced together, and then met more guys on the dance floor. Somehow, over the course of several hours, Flavio, the boy in drag, and I realized we both worked in the Burlington Mall in Massachusetts at the same time several years ago. He used to "cruise" me by pretending to browse in my store. I was very flattered, and he was so happy to be partying with me. I was having a wonderful time, but when I looked at my watch at eight in the morning, I told my new friends I had to leave. I had a baby shower to be at in the afternoon.

I stepped out into the morning sun and walked to my car parked only a couple of blocks away. I felt as though I should have been "cracked out" and embarrassed to be in public, but I was sober. And New York is really stunning in the morning.

I woke up to objects being thrown at my old bedroom's window at about 2:30 in the afternoon. Seamus was trying to wake me up for the baby shower in the back yard that was already in full swing. I showered and did everything I could to not look sleep-deprived and joined the party. Mother made me some cheap coffee which I complained to her about, partially in jest. I love to give my parents a hard time, so as everyone was drinking alcohol, I mixed some juices together and told them I made a "drink" and took a sip. I'm such a bad son. My father immediately realized I was joking, but my mother's horrified look took a few seconds to turn into a relieved smile. :D

I had the opportunity to meet many of Margot's international group of friends at the party. Many of them know each other from their English (as a second language) studies. She & Billy opened their baby gifts to the applause of the guests while I got Mother drunk with cheap red wine (That's what she wanted to drink!) She's funnier when she's drunk, and since she drinks so sporadically, it doesn't take much. "You now need to drink for both of us!" I explained to her, as she bobbed her head in agreement.

The party was a success, and it was time to start thinking about the night's activities. Again, my brothers procrastinated, so at a quarter after eleven, I told them I was no longer waiting for their decision. I hopped into the Grand Prix, and headed back into the city.

HX Magazine recommends things to do in their column, "Homo Musts," which is where I read that the "Cock" in lower Manhattan was the place to be. I had never been, but I was trying to be fearless. I walked into the dark, sleazy bar and ordered a Red Bull. I looked around, and I was scared. It was a small, scary, ugly, hook-up bar with many older, unattractive men. The dancers who got up on the bar and a platform were also unattractive, but the one closest to me whipped it out for the patrons to examine. A younger, studious-looking blonde guy started talking to me. We chatted for a bit, and he told me he was fairly new to New York from Regina, Saskatchewan. He was very sweet as he hit on me, but I wasn't interested.

I decided it was time to check out Spash Bar, my old favorite. I walked in and was pleasantly suprised to see how busy it was. I had decided that Spash had gone downhill since, recently, it didn't have the same pull it did in the good old days. The bartenders were in hot, skimpy sailor garb, and the whole place had a naval theme. The music was great, but again, the crowd wasn't all that pretty. However, I did meet a beautiful Danish/Spanish guy who was easily the best looking guy in the club. We spoke for a while, and even flirted quite a bit. I ended up staying much later than I expected to because of this new development as we were very drawn to each other, but unfortunately, he was returning to Copenhagen in a couple of days. Just my luck!

I spent the next day at home with my parents, brothers, and new sister, Margot. We talked a little bit about the upcoming summer events, like the birth of the new family member in July, and the wedding of a childhood friend over the Labor Day weekend. So, as I readied my things before my flight, we said our "goodbyes" knowing it wouldn't be long before we were all together again.

Enjoying the Moment

I'm on a small Boeing 717 en route to New York, listening to Sunset Bouelvard on XM Broadway. The plane taxied on the tarmac for just over an hour, and now I have no way of letting my parents know that I'll be landing late. It's okay though, because Westchester County Airport is conveniently down the street from the house I grew up in. I'll text Seamus & Billy (my brothers) when we land. The delay also allowed me to nap a bit after a hectic dash to Atlanta's airport, so I'm not complaining.

I have a habit of biting off slightly more than I can chew, and today was no exception. I figured that since my flight didn't depart until 6:40 p.m., I would have plenty of time to work at Joe's on Juniper during lunchtime, get home and pack, and then take MARTA to the airport. Now, before you call me insane, I succeeded! But, just barely. Yes, there is a fine line between insanity & Kevin Malin, but normally, I work no more than a few hours during lunch, and then I'm free to leave the restaurant around 2:30. Today, we were a bit busy, so around 3, I became nervous, and so I told our cranky & silly manager, Steve, that I needed to catch a flight. Instead of biting my head off, he asked me to call from the airport to let him know I arrived in time. He has a heart, after all! In the meantime, the warm and sunny day people were enjoying out on our patio suddenly turned into monsoon season, which quickly soaked me to the bone as I ran to my Rodeo parked on 11th. I got home at 4 p.m., fed Pumba & Simba, told them I was leaving to visit Grandma & Grandpa, but that I would be back on Monday night, and then turned on Hard Candy. In no more than fifteen minutes, I was packed and walking out the door, back into the torrential downpour. The Lindbergh MARTA station is a couple of blocks from my home, so I actually made it to the airport with enough time to have a quick sandwich before boarding my flight.

In the passed decade, I've become quite the deft traveler. Since, September 11th, I've flown three to four times per year and I've adapted comfortably with changing security measures. Today, I actually packed only one back which I checked; I was probably the only passenger who boarded without carrying anything but a boarding pass.

I'm currently at a point in my recovery where I make an effort to focus on the moment instead of anxiously awaiting the future, or morbidly reflecting on the past. I thought of this while I was at the airport, and it made me grateful to be taking a trip. Every aspect of my little weekend adventure has occurred without drama, and if you knew me only a couple of years ago, this would be hard to believe. Also, I enjoyed the piece of mind knowing I forgot nothing, and I enjoyed resting once on the MARTA. And nothing thrills me more than flying over a dozen states in a jet to another region of the country. There is something very exciting about flying that never gets old for me no matter how much I travel.

So, I'll be on the ground in about an hour at Westchester's little luxury-boutique airport that happens to be far more convenient than LaGuardia. When I was a kid, I used to ride my bike to the airport, which was no bigger back then than a double-wide trailer. Now, it's practically a hub for Air Tran and Delta.

I'm happy to have a break from Joe's and Atlanta, in general. This weekend is already bringing much needed tranquility, a time that allows me to think about this particular point in my life, and how I can improve upon things. This is also an opportunity to do some work for my latest real estate lead; he's a police officer who needs to sell his home in Conyers before it's foreclosed upon. This is a situation millions of Americans are currently facing due to the housing crisis. If we can agree on a good price, I'll be able to help him avoid total credit destruction.

It's nightfall, and as I look out to the left of the aircraft, I see what I think is New Jersey. It's quite pretty from up here. Not dirty and smelly like New Yorkers so fondly describe it. So, for now, I'll savor this view and this moment and report back later in the weekend.

A Tough Choice: Family or Friends?

Today, I'm making my Memorial Day plans, and I have a fairly difficult decision to make. The unofficial beginning of summer used to involve a simple thought process: I'd grab my bike on Friday afternoon, board the Provincetown high-speed catamaran in Boston Harbor, and spend a party weekend in P-Town of drunken debauchery with thousands of other gay men. From what I remember, Memorial Day is a special weekend for the gay community because we can come together in large numbers, enjoy the beautiful weather, forget about work and the recent winter, and have a total blast!

This year, I have two options, both of which I'd like to partake in. The first option is similar to those crazy weekends in Provincetown, without the one social lubricant I used to love way too much. Several of my friends in recovery from substance abuse have invited me to join them for a sun-filled, sober weekend in Pensacola. To an Earth Person (the term alcoholics affectionately call our non-alcoholic friends), this may not sound very inviting. Why would anyone want to spend the weekend with lots of hot, gay men partying on the beach without alcohol? But I have so much more fun now, and this year, I'll actually remember the names of all the hotties I hook up with! Also, my friends in recovery have replaced the many drinking buddies I used to think were good friends. And spending time with them is actually a productive and important ingredient of my recovery. A large home on the beach has already been rented, and a wild, sober weekend is now pre-ordained!

If you've known me for a while, you may know that I'm a New Yorker, and I'm the only member of my family currently living in the South. You also may know that my family should have it's own soap opera. The drama that comprises my family is sometimes overwhelming, and it makes me grateful to be somewhat removed, geographically. I'm not going to get into it, but just thinking about my parents and two brothers raises my level of anxiety to Orange, so I'm going to pour myself a cup of coffee. Hold on a sec. :-)

Option Two involves travelling home for a very special baby shower. Last year in May, my older brother, Bill, eloped with his girlfriend, Margot (who still receives negative resistance from my parents), and since then, the rest of the family found out they got married, and now they're expecting their first child. This is big, because this is the first baby in the family since my little brother was born thirty years ago, and, aside from my 2 & 1/2 year marriage, I will be an uncle for the first time! And, my parents will have a grandchild! I'm so excited! However, the baby is not due until July 17th. So, the question is: How important is it that I am at the baby shower since I may be coming home for the baby's birth? Not to mention, I'm visiting New York for the wedding of a childhood friend Labor Day weekend. All this airfare is getting expensive, so what do I do?

In the past, my decision would be based on what I would enjoy more, but now that I live One Day at a Time, I strive to be a less selfish person. It's now less about me and more about us. At which event would I make more of a contribution? Which group needs me more? My friends or my family? Especially since the term friends is now more about the people I call on a regular basis, people I listen to when life seems a bit bleak, people I see at meetings. Sometimes, this includes the people I see while I'm out and about, but not usually.

Life for me now is about regulating my thoughts, paying attention to the good ones, and not entertaining the bad ones. This means staying out of my own crazy head with my own "problems" by helping other people. I can do this by simply spending time with friends and listening to them, and as a result, my mountains become molehills. But I'm also close to my family, and maybe I need to drop everything and spend time with them during a joyous time. Either way, I need to make this decision by the end of the weekend because planning ahead, I've heard, is part of growing-up, and at some point I need to tell Joe's on Juniper that I won't be in Atlanta for Memorial Day!

Mommy Dearest visits the ATL

It seems I have fallen into the reality TV trap once again. I'm in my living room having a late lunch and checking email/myspace, as I notice that there is another dance competition on Bravo, television for gay men & metrosexuals. It's called Step It Up & Dance, and at first glance it doesn't have enough appeal to retain my attention, which means there aren't any cute men in it. But I've made my judgement too quickly: there are some hotties in it, and although, it follows other shows exactly (a dancer is eliminated after each challenge), it's a good show. I've always been a fan of good choreography, and I love nothing more than amazing dancing. So, I'll refill my coffee cup and watch a couple of hours of episodes.

Today, my brain is catching up with the rest of my being as I relax on my first day off this week. Joe's has kept me very busy with tables full of partying gay boys and friendly trivia players. I was even secret-shopped on Friday, and although I only got a B+, Alice is happy because I'm a new server. Abode Realty has kept me almost as busy as I take on the challenge of my first short sale. This is a technique of saving a homeowner from foreclosure by negotiating with the bank to relieve the homeowner of the mortgage obligation. We're working in teams at the office and the team who completes a short sale first receives domestic airfare. What an incentive! I may not be on reality TV, but I'm a hell of a negotiator. I'm all about some healthy competition, so bring it on!

I have to talk a bit about my Mother because she's incredibly silly. This passed weekend, Mother came to visit Atlanta for the first time. My little brother, Seamus, lived in Atlanta several years ago, and Mother never visited. I've now been a resident of the ATL for over two years, and finally, she's come to visit. Normally, Mother would use a stale excuse to not visit. She's currently working in Palm Beach, so she flew up from there. She no longer has a cell phone and calling her at work is prohibited(according to her), so making plans for her visit was next to impossible. In addition, I wasn't aware of her plans until after the cut-off for making requests at Joe's; so altering my schedule was not going to be easy. Her initial plan was to fly in, take MARTA to Lindbergh, which is adjacent to my complex, and wait for me to get home from work. Crazy, right? Especially in crime-ridden Atlanta. I lucked out, though. My wonderful bosses at Joe's gave me the night off due to inclement weather and Mother's visit. So, I left Joe's and headed for Hartsfield-Jackson. I was excited to see Mother and show her around my new city. I was also very thankful that she was not going to have to find her way in an unknown place on her own, and in the rain. As I waiting in the receiving area of the terminal, I kept thinking that I had to pay close attention to the short people since Mother only stands at four feet, eleven inches (I'm over a foot taller than she). What if I miss her and she gets on MARTA? I started having scary thoughts and decided not to entertain them. Almost an hour after the flat-screens showed her flight as arrived, Mother emerged from the crowd, clutching to her bag and looking a little lost. I felt a twinge of pity, but then reminded myself that even at sixty-three, she is a resilient woman, having dealt with so much in her lifetime. We were both so happy to see each other, and I could now feel relieved that she would be coming home with me.

Mother got into my Isuzu Rodeo, which she had never seen, and was very pleased with my choice. I'm always excited to act as tour guide, so as we drove up to Midtown, I pointed out landmarks and buildings, including the Abode billboard I'm pictured in on Piedmont Ave. We decided to have dinner, so we went to Cowtippers'. It began to rain as we pulled in, so as we waited for the patio diners to be seated inside, I showed Mother my business card display in the restaurant's entryway. We had a tasty steak dinner, and then went to my home. The last time Mother saw my feline children, Pumba & Simba, was when Jeremy, my ex-husband, and I stopped in New York during our move from Boston to Atlanta in October of 2005. I was so happy to see the three of them reunited. I watched Mother sit on the floor and play with her grand cats. We resolved to buy them some toys tomorrow.

Mother let me sleep in the next day because she thinks I work a lot. Although I had that Saturday off, I still felt guilty about sleeping late. I was raised Catholic and am now in Recovery, but I still battle with guilt issues from time to time. We had "Blunch" at Joe's where Mother met some of my co-workers, and then went shopping. I allowed my refrigerator to empty as the days lead up to Mother's arrival because she enjoys taking me grocery shopping. It must be a maternal thing. As we shopped at Ansley Mall, I showed her Abode Realty. The foreclosures on our window excited her, and she actually considered moving to Atlanta from New York. Personally, I think my parents would enjoy living in Atlanta, and I encourage them to think about it, now that they're both senior citizens.

The Galano Club, the gay recovery center where I go to AA meetings was holding a fundraiser on Saturday night complete with drag kings & queens along with risque commentary. We decided to go, and Mother was so happy to experience a bit of my Recovery life. She wanted to donate all sorts of money, and I had to restrain her a bit because she can be quite a spendthrift. I introduced her to other recovering alcoholics and even some addicts, all wonderful people who have become friends of mine. Rand, a good friend of mine with over ten years of sobriety, greeted us upon arrival. My friend, Chris, gave a fun performance as he competed for Miss Pink Cloud. He has become one of my best Atlanta friends. My friend, Chandler, who is also poised to receive his nine-month green chip, performed DJ duties while clad in sexy leather attire. Afterwards, we stopped at Burkhart's to hang out with my friend, Frank for a few minutes. We went home and turned in after an exciting day.

We spent Sunday at my home eating and lounging about. In the evening, I worked at Joe's, and Mother watched old movies.

On Monday, we both slept in, and had to make a mad dash to the airport. It turned out to be a wonderful weekend that we both enjoyed. I'm happy Mother left with a good taste of Atlanta. Maybe her next visit to my home won't be in another four years! And this weekend was drama-free; how refreshing!

A break from the Madness

It's about 3:20 in the afternoon, and I just started brewing my first pot of coffee on a lazy and stormy Saturday. I'm listening to Janet's new Discipline album, and I think it's great! I've been a huge fan since my little brother, Seamus, bought me Rhythm Nation 1814 for Christmas in 1989. This new one is an effort to be more risque than she's been before. It may be risque for some, but I'm always happy to hear an artist push the envelope and talk about things like sexual fetishes. The more we talk about taboos, the easier we understand each other. The title track is on now, and Miss Janet's singing, I need some discipline tonight; I've been very bad. Take out your frustrations on me. And then she's making these noises and stuff, and it's just kind of funny for me to hear because Janet is sooo not the fetish type. I'm sure she had to be taught a thing or two before making this album. However, she should be praised for her curiosity and fearlessness.

So, I'm taking a break, enjoying my coffee, and I feel well rested after a hectic day at Joe's. I was scheduled to work a double-shift, which I'm not afraid of, but we were SLAMMED all day! I got there at 10:30 am, and I didn't leave until 2:30 am. It was tough, but I'm still young. The weather was beautiful all day, so lunch was busy. Friday evenings are generally busy, but there was a curious electricity in the patrons. I'm sure it was a blend of the end of another week, good feeling, alcohol, a familiar place, good music; but at one point there was a large group of people dancing in unison on the patio to the choreography of a hip hop video. It was awesome to see! I had just finished up with the last of my tables, so I just stood there and watched with delight. As I watched, fatigued and drained of all energy, I was very happy to be a server at Joe's.

When things get tough, never forget that with enough coffee, you can do anything!

I have this obsession with how much sleep I get. It's left over from my drinking days. Sleep is VERY, VERY important. If I don't get about eight to nine hours in a night, the next day is a waste, or so I think. But one thing I've learned in sobriety is that I don't always know best. I used to know almost everything, but now, as Plato so eloquently put it, "All I know is that I do not know."

So, last night, I got home from Joe's on Juniper, the predominantly gay restaurant I work at in midtown Atlanta at about 2:45 am. I've been told by my managers that I need to finish my closing side-work quicker because I need to clock out sooner than I have been. The $2.13 per hour I make on the clock needs to be streamlined, and I have been getting better about it by starting my side-work while I still have tables. I've been at Joe's for about a month now, and I'm getting the hang of it, but as with everything in my life, there's room for improvement.

I went to bed knowing that I needed to make a very important phone call to my broker first thing in the morning about a deal I've been working on. First thing in the morning for me could mean two in the afternoon, but for the rest of the world I decided, it means 9:00 am. So I set my alarm knowing I wouldn't get my full-night's sleep tonight. I feel asleep with Simba, my tan & white cat, purring as he snoozed on my chest. Getting up early was going to be okay because I would make a full pot of coffee before anything else.

Back in September, my client, Will, bought some land, with me as his agent in Grant Park for a dream home he designed. Since then, he and his boyfriend, Jamie, caught the real estate bug, and they wanted to buy more. We put an offer on a foreclosure a couple of weeks ago and received a very slow response from the seller, but nonetheless, we all agreed on a price. Unfortunately, on Monday, the listing agent informed me that they were going with another offer. Will and I didn't think this was right, so I spoke to my new broker, Roel, yesterday about it, and he wanted to research my emails to decide whether my client had "equitable interest" in the property or not. Roel called me in the evening to tell me that we had a good case for the property, but I was already waiting tables at Joe's, so I sent him a text saying I would call him first thing in the morning.

I'm not necessarily ineffective in the morning, I just have a really tough time getting out of bed. I think it's a self-pity thing. I want to stay in bed because I deserve to. But I don't deserve to unless, of course, I'm working until the middle of the night, and I have nothing to do the next day. Today, however, I had to get up and attend to this issue. One thing I want in sobriety is to be of service to others, and it's hard to do that while lying in bed. So, I got up and called Roel. As I was speaking to him, I noticed that the power was out in my apartment, which meant, no coffee. No matter; I would get ready and head to Ansley. I was actually excited because this meant that I had an excuse to stop into Starbucks and get some coffee and parfait. But most importantly, it meant I could scope out any cuties who might be in Starbucks. Looking for eye candy is often my ulterior motive.

I showered in the dark, said "Goodbye" to Pumba and Simba, my feline children, and headed to Ansley for coffee and to hang out at the office. The Ansley Mall area of Atlanta happens to be one of the gayest places on Earth. It's a strip mall complete with grocery stores, CVS, a super-gay gym, a liquor store, gay bars, restaurants, and even cruisy apartments across the street. So, if you lived there, and you were gay, you would never have to leave. So, when Roel asked me to join Abode Realty at their new office at Ansley, I simply couldn't refuse. He was looking for someone who could "service" Atlanta's gay community with experience and charm. He couldn't have asked a more appropriate person.

The clientele in Starbucks at the un-Godly hour of 10:00 am left much to be desired. On top of that they had no parfait, so I got my venti hot coffee and went to the office. Being the discreet and smooth operator I am, I set off the loud and embarrassing alarm system as I entered. Angela, our receptionist, wasn't there because she is visiting family in Detroit. I'm actually very clumsy, and I let people know about this character defect early on. In the old days, I would have wanted a drink to steady my nerves after the alarm went off, but today, I don't get upset. I can't live life on my terms anymore; I live life on LIFE'S terms now. Or at least I try. Progress, not perfection. I know I sound like AA's poster boy, but it did save my life.

So, I'm a little tired, and I've finished my first cup of coffee, but it's going to be in the seventies today. So, I think I'll go back into Starbucks, for various reasons, and caffeinate myself into enjoying this beautiful day!