Tag Archives: love

discover the hidden.

apparently, this dog never needs walked.

a beautiful June afternoon on the campus of NYU.

always look in the smallest of places
always see what most never see
turn your head
squint your eyes and blink.
forever look harder, deeper, and discover
that we all have places
that are hidden, obscured, or around the next corner…
but oh so incredibly and beautifully found.

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three words equal one date.

Last Saturday evening, I decided to “enhance the dating experience” of Daryl and me. These “ideas” seem to POP into my head on my days off while I’m tooling around obsessing running errands, viewing porn reading the news on the internet, or just sitting on the crapper playing Bejeweled Blitz in an easy chair reading a good biography.

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Our “dating life” has not gotten stale, mediocre, or even lack-luster after eight years together, however, with our conflicting work schedules we often go days without dates, weeks without sex, and months without a good vodka tonic. Sometimes it feels as though we’re two disabled Carnival cruise ships passing in the night.

So occasionally, I just like to… what’s the term I’m looking for… “raise the bar?” Yeah, I’ll go with that for now. I’m fortunate that Daryl is so adept good at tolerating embracing my ideas to be creative in our relationship. I always enjoy the look on his face when I present these brainstorms over a glass of pinot noir and some English cheddar cheese when he gets home from work. It’s usually a look of a deer in headlights bewilderment, followed by feigned understanding and capped with a sigh smile, a nod and him obligatorily enthusiastically asking “how do we get started?”

“I’m not suggesting initiating new toys, or boys, or boy toys into our dating repertoire,” I explained to him,” I just think we can use tools to make the date more meaningful and thought out.” He shuffled for another piece of cheddar as I sipped my wine and began to explain that on Sunday (his day off) and Monday (my day off) that we could give each other three words that begin with the same letter and must be “incorporated into the date” somehow.”

He washed the cheese down with what I thought was a larger than normal gulp of the wine and continued to wait for more explanation. “For example,” I responded, “Water, Wish, and Wine! You have to come up with a date tomorrow evening that somehow involves those three words! Easy-smeasy right? (thinking to myself that I am NEVER again to use the phrase “easy-smeasy” while presenting an idea of ANY kind).” I must admit that I sort of had a preconceived idea as to how this date could happen quite easily and inexpensively. I’m thinking in my head that a quick trip into West Chester to the Court House fountain, throw in a couple of pennies, grab a glass of wine and a salad at Iron Hill, and BINGO! We’ve enhanced the dating experience with water, a wish, and wine!

Not so fast. Daryl didn’t seem to make the “W” connection quite as quickly and looked a little panicked. Okay, I’ll concede that I DID push this on him without a whole lot of warning, and I thought that perhaps we needed a little time to digest this plan as we finished up dinner for the evening.

The next morning, as I was sipping coffee on the sofa while listening to pretty birds chirping outside while unfriending a few tired folks on FaceBook, I received a phone text from Daryl who happened to be in the bathroom down the hall (how DID we ever survive without smartphones?) that said “Transportation, Transparent and Tradition. Use one or all three in our date tonight.”

I was ecstatic! My idea was accepted!

I immediately started thinking about how I could incorporate these three words into a fun-filled, exciting, worthwhile date. The first word that instantly stuck in my head was of course, “transparent.” I thought Saran Wrap, right? It’s obvious, overt, and just plain obscene!

Sigh.

I dug the Saran Wrap out of the bottom of my foil and baggies drawer (oh yes, I have snack baggies, quart baggies, gallon baggies, zip lock, and even color strip baggies… it’s pathetic) and took it to the bedroom where I was going to “test” how this would work. I didn’t get too much “wrapped” when I realized that this would most definitely NOT be pretty. So I thought about using invisible Scotch Tape on my nipples! I could hardly contain my self-brilliance. How hot would it be to see me with “transparent” tape on my erect fleshy nipple? Then I tried to pull one off of as a clump of hair followed.

Sigh, again.

I finally decided to just make peach Jell-O with homemade whipped cream and a fresh slice of peach on top for dessert. “Transparent” down, two words to go.

The “tradition” part was easy. I just incorporated that into our traditional clinking of the wine glasses at the beginning of our meal. I most likely could have come up with something better on this one, but considering the timing, I went with it.

“Transportation” was more difficult to figure out. I thought that perhaps a ride to “Kiwi Yogurt” in town would be a fun way to relay transportation, but since I had used a dessert for another word, I was at a road block. I finally decided to dig out a game that we used to play called Mille Bornes. It’s a card game that originated in France and required us to interact while moving along in an imaginary car race to the finish line. It was a perfect solution considering the winner had choice of the after dinner um… prize.

So it’s not the finale of the Bachelor, or Game of Thrones, but it DID give us the opportunity to have a little fun with a little effort. I can’t wait to try this again next week!

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the noise of insanity.

And there are these days where I feel the walls of my mind falling apart among themselves in silent clamor. I hear them crumbling and cracking within my head as they struggle for space within to call their own. I push them, and push them again far away from the stairs to my heart. I will not open that straining door to those blackened blocks of fear, of panic, of insecurity and failure.

Life and her grace continue to provide me with newer and brighter mornings to find hope in every hopeless situation. It lays at my feet the capacity to build newer and better relationships. I must capture all the fleeting frantic sticky moments of this day and force them… no, cradle them within my soul and mortar those tumbling chunks of insanity within.

I WILL succeed today. I WILL once again, be able to detour that which is not welcome in my world. I WILL breathe in the perfect peace and fill my lungs with inhaled freedom. I will squeeze my eyes shut harder still to deny the light of any cruelty on this day as this gloriously exhaustive struggle of staying sane remains.

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Last Breath.

And as the silence drew closer still

As if suffocation of spirit wasn’t enough

As if her pain racked body wasn’t enough

Her cracked lips parted

And a whisper struggled from the deepest depth of her heart

To take its place among the stale air around her face

As if pushing her gently from life’s ledge wasn’t enough

As if letting her drug filled eyes blink away saltless tears wasn’t enough

The cruel watch decided with its ever moving hands

As the whirring of machines still ticked

Compassion might win this time

And allow her to sing the finale that every person must know

By letting her parched note tumble into

The soft abyss of her final slumber

Of the beginning

Of her peace.

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It’s just SO hard.

I honestly didn’t think it would be this hard.

If I had a quarter for every time I’ve heard that… I’d have a dime.

Seriously though, today I “deactivated” my Face Book account. It had become part of my daily (mostly morning) ritual.

Keurig on.
Lamp on.
Laptop on.
Face Book on.
Click, click, space bar, click…

Checking overnight status updates from West Coast friends while I slumbered during the night and then touching base with regular “morning folks” over a cup of hot java while watching the sun rise or rain fall outside the sliding glass door of my flat.

I would always try to locate an inspirational quote or photo to start the day. Perhaps listing my plans for one of my two days off during the week, or what I was prepping to chef for dinner for Daryl and I that evening. I enjoyed playing keyboard exhibitionist. I guess I felt like there were people out there who actually enjoyed my life’s quirks, words, and moments. I kind of cared about theirs… sometimes, quite deeply.

I think I became a “LIKE” whore as well. Photos of Daryl and I out enjoying wonderful meals, movies and get togethers that would solicit comments and likes as if we were Hollywood celebrities. Perhaps it was the addiction of seeing positive reactions to the updates. Maybe it was simply a way to push good energy easily from the comfort of my couch.

I sometimes struggle to remember what I actually DID before my morning Face Book ritual and more urgently important… What do I do now? My fingers need that QWERTY interaction. My mind still needs to spill its unorganized and frantic thoughts onto the light of my laptop screen to eventually be exposed to the internet world.

I’ll blog again, like I did a year or so ago.

Hang on… Here goes…

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out and about in the city of brotherly love…

This past Sunday afternoon, the LGBT (Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender) community celebrated our city’s diversity with the annual “Outfest” held in the “gayborhood” of Philadelphia.

I was fortunate to have off on a rare Sunday, and Daryl and I took full advantage of the spectacular weather to explore not only the Outfest celebration later in the afternoon, but also to take a self-imposed walking tour to a few other locations in the “City of Brotherly Love” along the way AFTER our delicious breakfast at the Midtown Diner (which I describe in my other blog “a little taste.”)

I wanted to show Daryl a sculpture entitled Freedom by Zenos Frudakis at the base of the Glaxo-Smith Kline building at 16th and Vine streets that I had only seen in passing while driving through town in the past.

This is what we saw.

and this…

and this…

and lastly, this…

Daryl was totally impressed with my decision to walk several blocks to see this amazing sculpture. I knew he’d like it.

I used to live in “Philly,” and I loved it when I did. I’d walk EVERYwhere, even during inclimate weather. Philadelphia is a city of neighborhoods and very walkable.

We saw this.

a mural on the side of Le Meridien Hotel on Arch Street at 14th.

and we passed this…

long ago abandoned, but I love the old signage on Pauline's Bridal Shop.

We continued on our excursion through town and stumbled into “Occupy Philadelphia!” which was being held on the western side of City Hall. It was truly enlightening to actually see the people, the tents, the posters and signs, all the chalk messages written on the sidewalk and the very real energy of the 99%. What I think intrigued me personally the most was the contradiction of the tent town of the “occupiers” in the shadows of these…

and this…

like this…

with their messages that included this…

and this…

oh… and this one.

We felt that we should get moving and decided to stroll past the new “paintbrush” sculpture at the Philadelphia Academy of Fine Arts Building. Sorry guys, but it reminds me of Woody Woodpecker.

Philadelphia Academy of Fine Arts

At this point of our walking tour, the weather, while beautiful, was making Daryl sweat through his polo shirt. He usually wears a tee shirt underneath, but wanted to feel “liberated” this day, so he went what I guess I would call topless commando? It didn’t work to his liking…

So we ended up here.

… to pick up a tee shirt and a new polo shirt for the Princess. Sigh. Once cleaned up and once again presentable, we were quickly on our way waving goodbye to Macy’s.

FINALLY, we arrived albeit an alley next to Sister’s and behind Woody’s, to Philadelphia’s Outfest.

The music was pumpin’ and the crowds were jumpin’! It was about 5 or 6 square blocks of diversity, camaraderie, playfulness, food, music, and every age and type of glorious human being the city has to offer.

We saw this…

and lots of these…

and of course I MADE Daryl do this…

that's Daryl on the left in his newly purchased shirt from Macys. duh.

 
 
 
 and we ran into her…
 

Shelita Buffet?

while searching for friends…
 
 
while we watched a fabulous dance troupe…
 
 
The day was young and we continued to enjoy the company of more good people, like these…
 
 
and these…
 
 
and these…
 
 
and her…
 

blowing UP condoms is so much better than blowing WITH them

 
and this “lady” came along…
 
 
and turned Daryl BACK into a Christian!
 

my handsome Christian!

 
We had a fantastic day in the City of Brotherly Love!

Peppah and Salt?

 
… and on our way to the car, we passed this… trying to figure out how appropriate it was to see at the end of our day in the city.
 

gourmet? pancake? balls?? Next time!

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my shirt.

I was hot today while strolling around the West Chester Restaurant Festival. I dressed in a long sleeve shirt because it was chilly in the morning. I came across a fried pickle stand that had tee shirts available for five bucks. I bought one and looked frantically around the streets and alleys to change with Daryl in tow. I turned around and asked Daryl what should I do with the shirt I was wearing when I changed to which he promptly replied, “give it back to your sister.”

I hate him.

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