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!
Saturday, April 26, 2008
Thursday, April 17, 2008
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!
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!
Saturday, March 29, 2008
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.
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.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
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!
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!
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