Welcome to my happily ever after...
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
GNBLFY
Two years ago this weekend was not my finest hour. Well, I'm not exactly sure when Easter was two years ago, so let me rephrase that: 2 years ago this Easter was not my finest hour. There's a big party in Houston called Jungle Lust the Saturday night before Easter, and it's a big excuse for the gay boys to get fucked up on various drugs and go dancing. I've never been a big club goer per se, so I instead had a big party at my house where some of us got fucked up during the actual party itself, then when the festivities were over, I had like 50 people at my house doing lewd and lascivious things.
Writing that I realize it may sound like I'm bragging about it, but actually I'm doing quite the opposite. I'm horrified by it.
Tonight in contrast, I plan to clean house in preparation to move this Friday. I'm preparing for my new life. This IS my finest hour.
Actually I've been packing and cleaning since about 1:00 this afternoon. I've decided I'm a bit of a packrat. Why? Well do you think that saving 5 tubes of toothpaste with just a smidge left in them is a bit OCD? You never know when you might run out and need just a bit, right? Ugh.
You should see how I run from room to room without actually finishing something before I start something else. At one point when I decided to clean the tub, I stripped off all my clothes so I could get in there and get down and dirty. Well, since then I've been naked since around 3:00, and it's now 6:26. Naked cleaning! That combined with the AOL Radio Madonna channel, and it's been a big gay party up in here. You should have seen my naked dance routine I did to Like a Virgin a minute ago. I broke it down, y'all.
Anywho, clutter makes me extremely nervous, and my house right now looks like Chernobyl. It's a utter, utter mess, and it's making me edgy. I am going to clean until around 8:00, at which point I'm going to go get some dinner and watch lots and lots of HGTV. I deserve it.
I went out to dinner last night at a fancy French restaurant for my mother's 65th birthday. I showed up wearing nice jeans, a dress shirt, and nice black shoes, and my mother told me she wasn't going to a nice restaurant with me dressed like the "Clampetts Come to Town". I thought I looked rather dapper, but I had to come back to my house and get some dress pants because she wouldn't let up. I guess it was the least I could do for her b-day, but I certainly wasn't in the best humor while it was occurring. I got over it, and even ended up spending the night. I never would stay out there when I was still drinking because I considered it a "wasted evening" because I couldn't get fucked up. Now after almost 2 years of not drinking, my old thinking is finally subsiding. Being around my folks doesn't cramp my style anymore. In fact we pretty much have the same evening routine: PJs at 8:00, TV, bed. Yee-haw!
Speaking of my mother, I just tried IMing with her on AOL, and she's not very good at it. She doesn't know what to say, and TTYL threw her for a loop. I'll have to give her a crash course in net lingo.
GNBLFY (Got Nothing But Love For You),
J.
6:29 p.m. - 2007-04-07
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------