the p.s. to the whole 'dog ate my bundt cake' story is how drew handled it. as i sobbed, drew's eyes filled with tears and he told me how much my effort meant to him... that no one's ever put in the effort with him like i have... and then he told me that he loves me.

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last night we both got grumpy (for different reasons) and so we weren't being as affectionate as we normally are. we were watching television with his friend chris, and during a commercial break drew got up off the sofa and walked to the kitchen. i watched him from behind as he clutched the sides of his loose-fitting jeans and gave them a tug. i smiled at this, at how unbelievably adorable my boyfriend can be, and then i looked at chris to see if he saw it, too. chris was staring at the television, and i had the urge to blurt out "isn't he fucking cute" or, worse, holler it out to drew ("honey you could not be sweeter!")... instead i decided to keep it to myself. but it's true. he's gorgeous, and even when i'm annoyed with him every little mannerism makes me tremble. i can barely contain myself around him.

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our grumpy states climaxed with me abruptly leaving drew's apartment, then immediately feeling lost and alone. i called him when i got home and he said he had just called my cell phone. we talked it out and fifteen minutes later i was back in his room, spooning him in his bed. it felt so comfortable and so right. suddenly a rush of emotions charged through me. it was a mixture of love and intimacy, fear and confusion, and an intense sexual attraction. as his body warmed mine, i thought to myself "please don't give up on me." wow. where did that come from? drew and i were nowhere close to that kind of talk -- it had barely been a disagreement. just grumpiness. anyway, this all happened very quickly and i didn't have time to process any of it properly. but suddenly i was thinking about my dad. "don't give up on me." it doesn't make any sense, really. it was my mother who ended that marriage... it was me who cut off all contact with him ten years ago. maybe it's not him so much as just the whole breakup of our family. maybe my need to feel wanted and needed 24/7 is connected to some feeling of loss created by that divorce. the feeling that nothing is forever, that love doesn't last, that abandonment and rejection are imminent. it sounds silly and i feel silly (and overly dramatic) typing that, but i know that it was something big because suddenly i was crying. i didn't make a noise because i didn't want drew to hear... i just let the tears fall. i swear to you that i'm really not a crier. i'm not ashamed to cry, i just don't do it that often. i also wasn't trying to hide anything from drew... i just honestly didn't know what the tears were for and it was too late to open up a "my parents fucked me up" conversation. today i feel like it's only natural that experiencing true love would expose my emotional damage, and so i'm trying not to fault myself for feeling so needy last night. i need to work hard to keep myself from putting unrealistic expectations on this relationship and let it continue to grow naturally. at the same time, i don't know that i can handle letting drew become so important to me that losing him would reduce me to the 1988 version of myself -- the scared, lonely, angry kid who suddenly felt that he had no future.

but there's no stopping this relationship. if watching the boy pull at his jeans makes me swoon, i'm already in too deep to get out unharmed. i really love this guy.

 

i start school in six weeks.

forty-three days from today i will have my first chemistry lecture in ten years, followed immediately by my first biology lecture in eleven years. i'd like to think the day will be spent in some mass orientation type thing, but i have a feeling we're going to jump right into the periodic table.

normally i deal with school stress by fantasizing about what it would be like to fail, exposing my ignorance to my friends and family. then i use that fear as motivation to study.

forty-three days out i'm scared... but not scared enough. last night i thought to myself 'i should really crack open schaum's and brush up on my chemistry basics.' but instead i finished reading this. and then i read a newspaper article about social security reform. maybe just reading something, anything, will help ease me back into studying.

or maybe i'll fail out of school and spend the rest of my life running into random old friends who'll say...

old friend: 'hey! i heard you went back to school to become a doctor! wow!'
me: 'yeah but i couldn't hack it.'
old friend: 'oh. uh. yeah that's... well it's cool that you tried. at least you tried.'

ugh.

 

i spent hours baking a cake last night. grocery shopping, beating the batter by hand (because d___ and his roommate didn't have a mixer)... it was quite a task. then we went out for drinks. we came home to find d___'s roommate's dog looking guilty and full of shame.

she ate my cake. and she ate the back-up apple pie i bought in case the cake took a disastrous turn. i cried real tears. i was drunk on two gin & tonics and a beer, but i probably would have cried sober. now everyone is bringing something to his family's thanksgiving today except me.

p.s. d___ doesn't want to be known as d___ anymore. so from now on, i'll use his actual name. drew. i'm still not using my actual name, though. hehe.

 

i walked out of work on friday. i don't think i've ever done that before.

at 3:00 the producers put out a memo that extended our unpaid holiday "vacation" from one week to two weeks. two weeks with no paycheck. right at christmas.

i've worked in television during the holidays before and was prepared for a one-week unpaid hiatus. i had budgeted for that. but a second week means fewer (if any) christmas presents and late fees for bills and rent. i know i'll be able to deal with the financial stuff, but this work situation has just turned totally sour for me.

they gave no reason in their memo. they actually had the nerve to mask it as a favor: "we hope you enjoy this much-deserved time off" blah blah blah. i confronted one of the producers and told him that i and several other people had bought expensive plane tickets so we could rush back to l.a. the day after christmas because we were told we would need to work that week, that this was a really bad time to be taking a paycheck away from people, and that it was very poorly handled in their memo. he hadn't read the memo. he said he "couldn't get into the nitty-gritty of it", but that basically they went over budget on season three and they had no choice but to shut down for a second week. he clearly didn't give a shit, so i started to lose it a bit and said "this is just a big 'fuck you' right before christmas, paul.' he just stared at me blankly. i walked off.

i hate it here now.

hate it.

don't want to be here.

don't want to work for these fucktards anymore.

we lost a good producer a few weeks ago. he was a bit of a cheeseball. he'd say "we really appreciate all your hard work" every time you turned around. but you know what? it helped. he knew how to deal with people. if he were here, we'd probably still be getting fucked over, but he would have fucked us slow and easy with a nice, gentle reacharound. he would have at least made an attempt at explaining why this had to be done.

it's actually the perfect send-off for me as i leave "the industry." yet another example of how short-sighted and inept most of the people at the top truly are, and how rarely they think about how their decisions will effect the paycheck-to-paycheck crowd at the bottom.

ugh. i was hoping that the weekend would give me time to cool down. obviously that hasn't happened. d___ helped on friday by treating me to dinner, a lecture here, and drinks with a friend. we had a really nice weekend. but now that i'm sitting at my desk, i'm right back where i was at 3:00 on friday. pissed off.

ways i can deal with this situation:

1. start drinking on the job. honestly, if they don't care about us then why should i care about doing a good job for them?
2. start hissing at the producers who made this decision every time i see them in the hallway. i practiced hissing in the parking garage today. i'm not sure i'm ballsy enough for this one, but it sure would be fun.
3. start coming in late and leaving early.
4. pick up a few hours at the breakfast/lunch place where my sister works. which would be a justifiable cause for #4.
5. do my job and quit worrying about it because i'm going back to school soon and i should just grow up and get over it. this is never going to happen, but i had to put it on the list.

i'm definitely going to start with #1.

 

slamming around from blog to blog to blog, i tripped across this.
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last night as i was driving home i found myself behind a ford escort station wagon with the following bumper stickers:
1. "loving my family is the best home improvement"
2. "mommies rock"
3. "i love my cub scout"
4. "bush/cheney"
it's so depressing to me that #4 wasn't more of a shocker. why can't you love your cub scout and also support a less ideological foreign policy? i pulled up next to her at a stoplight, and i swear to god that the woman behind the wheel was a lesbian. and i really don't think she knows it yet. honestly, she looked like my high school tennis coach. the repressed rage she must feel from years of having to touch a penis most likely explains why she would vote for such assholes. that's the only way i can feel any compassion for this person. if she's not a lesbian, may her cub scout be drafted and sent to iraq.
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d___ is going to missouri with me next month. i'm taking my sweet, adorable south african boyfriend deep into a red state. my grandparents' farm is an oasis, though. i love it there. hopefully he'll love it, too.

 

yesterday morning at around eleven o'clock, i had an important moment of self-awareness. it happened quickly, and although i started to draw attention to it ("d___, these people must think i'm a total..."), i quickly retreated and let the moment pass. because i was actually more concerned about what i thought of myself in that moment than what the people sitting at the next table thought of me, and i needed time to reflect.

d___ and i were sitting at a sidewalk table in front of our favorite breakfast place. i was eating a spinach & egg scramble and we were reading the newspaper. within fifteen seconds i made both of the following comments:

- "d___, read maureen dowd's column."
- "i think 'fontina' is my new favorite cheese."

okay. eww. i don't mind being a snob. and i don't think these statements are totally reprehensible, but i am very concerned about how quickly the one statement followed the other. that. is alarming.

 

i have a new office mate. i'm a huge fan of his television without pity synopses and was all super excited to meet him. he's brilliantly funny... clearly very smart... very gay (or just very very femme)... a mediocre dresser (a plus in my book, but only a plus if he's gay -- i love gays who can't dress well. i find it charming.)... and he is a LOUD TYPIST. he's really aggressive with those keys: CLACKETY CLACK CLACK BANG BANG BANG. at first i found it annoying, and now i'm starting to think that it's a sign of how immensely talented he is.

he was brought into the company by a friend of mine. she, like my new office mate, is also an intimidatingly great writer. last night i walked into her office to find her literally attacking her keyboard. her face didn't read "angry" to me, so i don't think she was writing a nasty email or anything.

i labour long and hard over everything i write. i write and rewrite and rewrite and rewrite. if you check this blog for updates often enough, you'll find the most current posting being republished at least five times before i'm satisfied with it*. there's a hesitancy to my process -- the process of turning my thoughts into sentences. and i see that hesitancy in my work.

right now i'm typing as loudly as i puosibly can. and you konw waht? it's only resulting in a lot of typos.

hmm... oh well. i guess the loud typing is a symptom of their disease and not the root cause of it. that is, if being a talented writer is in fact a form of mental illness. and i'm pretty sure it is.

*in five minutes i've republished this entry four times.

 

yesterday, d___ and i invited three of his friends to breakfast. we were planning to go to auntie em's. unfortunately, his friend chris had other ideas. when i told d___, he was just as unhappy about it as i was. i said "well we can't be in control all the time." d___ giggled and said "but i like being in control. put on my shoes." as i was tying the laces, i thought about how nice it's been to take a turn in the passenger seat with d___. when left to my own devices i tend to be a dictator. i literally never ride in the passenger seat because i can't handle letting other people determine my comings and goings. if my friends and my sister weren't around to put a check on my natural impulses, i'd probably be the guy at the supermarket who yells at people for having more than ten items in the express lane.

d___ and i have a perfect ratio of agreements-to-disagreements when it comes to basic things like where to eat, when to wake up, who to hang out with, etc.. enough agreements to make it manageable; enough disagreements to force ourselves out of our regular routines.

i've found a great release for my need to be in total control: "writing" for reality television. although we're not allowed to "completely misrepresent" someone, we're told to "own" the material -- not to let the material own us. a very common practice is something called "frankensteining". that's when you take an interview bite and rearrange the words to construct the sentence you need. for example...

girl: "i feel really good about the elimination. i mean, i know a lot of the girls are really nervous, but i just think there are a lot of people who deserve to be eliminated before me."

now i don't want to "completely misrepresent" this girl, but i really don't buy what she's saying here. i see fear in her eyes.

girl (edited): "i feel... really nervous // about the elimination."

if only i could do that in real life.

me: "d___ and i want to go to auntie em's."

chris: "oh, well i'd really rather go somewhere with a big dining room since it's raining if that's okay."

chris (edited): "oh... okay."

 

i just realized that my financial aid will be based on my 2003 income. this is great news, because in 2003 i made $19,962. and that's because...

jan 2003: on new year's day, after living together for two years, the canadian said "i think i might move to san diego. or back to montreal." when i asked what this meant about our future together, he responded (honest to goodness) with this little gem: "relationships are nice things to have, but we need to worry about ourselves first." happy fucking new year's. i was working at an indie film company at the time making $500/week gross. i immediately gave two weeks' notice and bought a couple plane tickets and a eurail pass with my credit card.

feb 2003: that two weeks' notice was extended and i worked for the first two weeks of february. just before christmas i had totaled my car (because i was stoned) and i had to wait for it to be fixed before i could leave town. in mid-february i drove back to missouri, sobbing most of the way and listening to dolly parton's "heartbreak express." i flew from st louis to new york to visit friends.

march 2003: from new york i flew to london. stayed there a few days. loved it. took the train to paris. stayed there a few days. hated it. had an unbelievably depressing one-day affair with a guy who had just gotten booted from the priesthood for being gay. went to amsterdam, copenhagen, berlin and prague. all on the credit card.

april 2003: i flew back to st louis and then drove back to los angeles. i lived on my friend's sofa. considered going back to school, but decided i was too unstable and probably shouldn't make such a huge decision until things had calmed down a bit. so instead i took a job working for a crazy show business family; they were willing to raise my salary to $550/week gross.

june-july 2003: lived with my friend rent-free.

august-december 2003: got a raise to $650/week gross. moved into an apartment with my sister.

it was probably the hardest year of my life (so far) but ultimately it made me a much stronger, happier person. and now hopefully it will help get me a generous financial aid award.

 

i'm not going to rant against w or the election or my home state for voting for him. i'm not going to obsess over what kerry did wrong or what rove did right. i'm not going to try to process my anger and turn it into something positive. i'm just going to ignore it. i have a script due today and i can't possibly handle all of this. between d___ and work i barely have time to keep my checkbook balanced, so i'm going to take all the time and energy i was putting into staying informed about national politics and turn it into housecleaning time and time spent applying for financial aid. okay, so maybe that is turning it into something positive. but i'm going to be pissed off while i'm scrubbing my toilet.

note: he is still funny and i love reading him... but man oh man this relationship with e.s. has made his posts much less entertaining.

 

sorry it's been so long since my last entry.

first of all, thanks to d___ for the new site design. i knew he'd offer to do it for me so i'm not sure why i didn't just ask him directly. i love the photo but told him that i'd have to get used to the white. at first i thought it was too cheery -- but i think the imperturbable coyote is a nice balance. if you have any thoughts let me know.

i have lots of excuses for not blogging lately, many of which are actually valid reasons. but the main reason is that i've been too confused to form coherent, relatable thoughts. over the past two weeks i've partially completed four different blog entries that are record-setting in length. all four are totally unpublishable. they don't make any sense. it's difficult to write your way through confusion. it can be therapeutic, but in my experience i find that i tend to try to write my way out of a difficult situation by ficitionalizing things. not to mislead you or anyone else -- but to mislead myself into believing that i understand what's going on in my own head.

things haven't been easy with d___ this month. it's been a struggle on both ends and there were a lot of fears that i didn't want to have to face. the good times with him are the best i've ever had, but as the relationship has gotten more serious those good times have been countered by feelings of extreme insecurity and anxiety. even now it's a struggle for me not to write "but now everything is great", for fear that everything is not yet settled between us. but i'm not going to let another week pass by without a blog entry -- i can't keep holding my breath, waiting for things to be easier.

we had a great time this weekend. here are some photos from a halloween party we went to on friday. see if you can find leanjoe & d___.