Dear Roger: Some Things Are Just Better Said,Out Loud

Last night was an odd night to say the least. My son and I were actually hanging out together on the couch, just kinda doing our own things. He was playing some goofy online game and I was writing another chapter on my story,"The Face In The Rear View Mirror", when he looked at me and asked me what I was writing. I told him and for once he asked me,"Can I read it?" I was shocked. No one in my family has ever expressed an interest in any of my writing. I mean they know I write. I have talked about it for years, and my sister saw me perform my Cowboy Poetry,once. But none of them have ever asked to read it, or have shown the least inclination to find out what exactly it is that I spend my time working on. My son especially, though he did, by accident, read a little bit of the slash fic I write and he was somewhat traumatized to discover that his mom has knowledge of such things. So when he asked me if he could read 'Face" it caught me off guard. Its all stored online and in my computer, so I offered to read it to him instead, and he grinned at me, "Aunt Trina told me that is the best way to hear your stuff, so Yeah! I would like that." That also kinda shocked me. I didn't know my sis even remembered seeing me perform.

Rog, if you have never been to a "Cowboy Poetry" performance, its a little "Different" than you were probably used to. Its 1 part poetry, and 3 parts theater. Think Will Rogers style of story telling. It was fun and I miss doing it, but there is just not much call for it up here, though after last night, son was really encouraging me to look into getting back into it.

So anyway, I started at the first chapter and I began reading. I didn't just read it in a monotone, I read it in voice with emotion and everything and son went from staring at his computer screen to staring at me with a funny look on his face, and the next thing I know he had tears in his eyes. "Holy Crap, MOM!" I was there, I knew exactly where that was, I could see it all. Those things happened! You made it soo damn real! He was laughing and he asked,"Do you have more?" I told him I had 3 more chapters done and he said,"Well? read em!" But he wanted an idea of what the boy looked like, so I showed him a picture that was a rough approximation, and had him use his imagination to picture a few things different, like hair a little lighter and the nose that turned up on the end just a bit.

He put his computer down and I continued on with the next chapter and I had his full attention as I read, and when I did the voices he looked at me with something that I have rarely seen in my sons eyes,surprise.He laughed a lot during the second chapter and then he asked me,"Mom, why did you stop performing your poetry? Why didn't you go into acting? You are good! He made me laugh. I told him because being able to read a story that impresses a kid in the safety of my own living room is a hell of a lot different than being up in front of several hundred people on a stage where mistakes are not easily forgiven. I didn't want to starve, and besides, I had a kid to support. He just sat there shaking his head and saying,"Wow!" until I asked if he wanted to hear the rest of the story, and he gave the typical teenager response,'Duh!"

I read him the last couple chapters I had written and he laughed and even cried as he listened to me, until I said, "And thats all I have for now." He looked at me and said,"Mom, you have to let Aunt Trina read these, she would love them! My friends would love them! These stories are awesome, and they made me so homesick for Texas but they also took me back there too." He went on and on for a minute and then he asked, "Do you have any other stories that you can read to me?" I told him I had a couple, but that they were kinda mature content. He said," Well, could you read me the story up to where they start talking about sex and then stop?" So we sat out on the couch, with me reading my stories to him until the wee hours of the morning and he was blown away that his mom isn't just sitting here reading ,"Monkey Porn", I am writing some of it, but that I am also writing some things that he actually enjoys reading.

I am still a bit stunned. My son likes my work. He likes hearing me read it. I know he always comes out and watches when I perform 'Where The Wild Things Are" for sis and he seems to get a kick out of it, but jeeze, Ive only been doing that for close to 15 years, so I can do it in my sleep. He mentioned recording me reading my stuff to send to my sis and I dont know if I am comfortable with that. I know my son, he can be devious and I wouldn't put it past him to youtube me and that would not make me happy.So I think I will just save our living room readings for that, the living room, and share my stories with him while he is still interested and revel in the fact I have at least one fan in the family.

Dear Roger: Defining Me As A "Cool Mom?" I Dont Think I Would Say That

My son and I have our moment when we are able to have deep conversations about things that you and I used to talk about, and its in these moments that I find myself most trying to emulate you and actually draw from the lessons I learned from you.

Its not easy being the parent of a teen boy. He is a moody, difficult, and often volatile man child that seems to sometimes forget that his baby sister, who even though she got tested and proven to be a fecking genius, is just a little girl who is barely out of kindergarten. He is often ravenous, eating seemingly his weight in food in a day and then looking for more, stinky and sometimes secretive and flighty. He has taken to practicing his guitar for literally HOURS on end, and he has come up with some interesting "mash-ups" of many songs, playing them fluidly in ways that boggle the mind, and even creating his own riffs, yet when I ask him to work with me on writing music to go with some song lyrics I have written, he blushes and freezes up and says,"Mom, im not that talented and I would just mess your stuff up."

Hes talented, but he doesn't see it, though he has enough arrogance going on to realize that he is a good looking kid and he tries to capitalize on that with some of his teachers. I have even heard him flirting with some adults to try and get his way! He has managed to get meals and drinks and things like that by just batting his eyelashes at store clerks or working his dimples! He admitted that to me the other day when he came home with a soda when I knew he didn't have any money.I asked him how he got it and he said,"Oh, the lady who is the manager at the restaurant likes me so she gives me stuff from time to time when I go in there with my friends. I just kinda talk a little like thiiis (he turned on the Texas drawl) and I smile and she gives me a soda or some fries." Roger, I about lost my damn mind! I know where he learned that little bit of manipulation and its partially my fault because we had a conversation about it a while back.

We were talking about my favorite little fella and how he had gone from being a Texan to being a "Coon-ass" Louisiana boy. I had commented that playing to the occasion and turning up the accent to charm and work whatever crowd might be around, was a clever way of staying on top of things and while some folks might not like it, I didn't mind because its all part of being in that line of work. I guess my son pays a little more attention to things than I had thought, because apparently he is working it too. Jesus wept Rog, its not fair to unleash that kinda stuff on women. Son has been in a growth spurt again and he no longer has to stand on his toes to look on top of the damn fridge. He just looks and he can see if I have any chocolate stashed up there or stray cash. He went through 2 boxes of cereal in two days, a gallon of milk and a box of twinkies along with his regular meals, so food is a definite issue around here, along with buying him clothes.

He has asked about getting a job, and while I am not thrilled with the idea of him working, I guess as long as he keeps up with his schoolwork I really cant forbid it anymore than I can him growing up. He needs money for some of his own stuff, and I could use the financial break from having to buy him new jeans every month. He is also going through guitar strings really fast. He made the last set last a lot longer than they should have, and he was pretty disconsolate that his guitar sounded so crummy because I couldn't afford to buy him new strings for so long. If hes putting in the effort to practice and get good by playing for 4-5 hours a day, then the least I could do is try to indulge him that little bit.

He has started letting me hug him again! Thats a good thing because he went through that whole , "Im a guy and too big for my mom to be hugging on." so I had missed getting hugs for quite a while. Now he often grabs me and hugs me before he leaves for school in the morning and we ALWAYS say a hearty round of ,"I love you's" each and every day.

He told me I am a,"Cool mom", and I asked him why he would say that? I often doubt my job as a mother. In fact I feel I have failed on so many levels. I have made horrible choices in men, we are chronically poor and he has had to do without a father, a safe and stable home, and many of the things that normal kids have in their lives. I am moody, often self-centered, and often sick or dealing with stress or health issues that make me difficult to be around, but my son tells me that he has never doubted that no matter what, no matter if he was the biggest pain in my ass or if he failed or if he made mistakes or even if he was mean to me, he knew I loved him. He said he knew that no matter who he chose to love, I would love him and eventually them(his girlfriend is growing on me), but if he had been gay I would have loved him the same. I never falter in my love and devotion to those I care about because of things like that and it has made an impact on him. He now thinks the same way. I commented about a daughters love of a certain young rock star being something that is going to lead to a rude awakening for her some day, and he said,"Yeah, but she loves him no matter what and you do too and that just means you have raised her right and that you are a cool mom." I dont know when I became so open minded about these things, maybe it was after realizing that all the secrecy is what killed Robert and all the bigotry and hate is what I resented in my father, or maybe it was just realizing that love is love is love and whatever side of the biscuit that someone butters is just their business and if they are lucky enough to have love in their life, then they should be allowed to enjoy it as long as they are both consenting adults.

My dating is going well. I have met a guy that didn't flinch and run away screaming when I tried to scare him off and it looks like I will be seeing him again. Hes not some young hottie, but hes funny and smart and an artist so we will be able to have a pint or two together and chat about things.

Dear Roger;Who Knew It Would This Difficult To Get Laid?

So I am full force back into the dating world I guess you might say, and its pretty interesting. Men are a little different or maybe I am different. Not wanting a man around full-time kind of puts me on a different footing with them than I used to be, and though I enjoy their company, I can be much more picky than I used to be. I really want a younger guy to pal around with and kind of just have a casual, "Friends with benefits" thing, but it seems that its difficult to find such a critter up here. The two guys I have gone out with so far have been interesting, and I had a nice time, but there was no real spark or chemistry and to be brutally honest, I want a man that is just gonna want to make me jump him in the bushes. Its been so long since I had a good solid trouncing, that I just really cant even think straight about half the damn time. Seriously, women get those urges too and its really kind of difficult to get through the day, seeing all these hot young men scrolling across my desktop on my computer, and realizing that my only source of relief might be a few moments alone in my shower with a bargain basement shower head.

I am in shape. I dont stink. I cant get knocked up. Im not diseased. SOO...WHAT. THE. HELL?

I am just about to the point that I would pay for it, but I am poor, so I would have to pay for low rent pecker, and God only knows what that would result in...

I registered on a dating website after being cajoled into it by a friend of mine, and its resulted in some interest, but the results have been...odd? I have some things that are deal killers. If I write in my ad that I am looking for a guy that is capable of carrying on at least a coherent conversation and who is fit enough to survive a date with me, and a guy responds with an email that I cant even translate with my teen helping me, and the picture looks like something off of the beginning of the "Biggest Loser"(dont watch that crap, have only seen the commercials), then I am just going to hit delete), so I dont end up wasting his and my time. I dont have a bias against heavy guys, but I want a guy that can keep up with me, and if we weighs 300lbs, that aint going to happen.

My first date was interesting. He was a hot little Romanian guy that I would have gladly drug off into the bushes. He has this smile with dimples and green eyes and hes in great shape and...oh my goodness does he WEAR HIS JEANS! but...hes old fashioned, traditional, doesn't speak English so good, and it would be a LOT of work to get the point across to him that I just want uh...you know? It sounds terrible, but I have some guys I can talk to now. That is so nice. We talk music and art and Bukowski, Waits,guitars , beer, guns, cars and dirty jokes, and hopefully we will meet up and have a beer and a smoke soon at Kells. I miss hanging out with guys and especially guys that are younger minded and full of fun. I am working on getting back into the world I left, and maybe that will solve my lack of pecker problem, but the whole dating thing is so different than it used to be it kinda freaks me out.

I dont like guys that are into sports too much,I dont like guys that are prejudiced against homosexuals or other races, or guys that are rude to people. Im just freaking picky I guess. I like guys that are a bit weird and quirky and free spirited and most of all funny and able to laugh at themselves. I like guys with hair. The guy I went out with yesterday was a shaver, as in he shaved his head, and I was a bit disappointed. I mean, I like a guy with hair for a reason. I dont care about the color or the style or anything like that, but I like him to have some.Tattoos are nice, I have tattoos that arent flash tell me that there is an edge to him, kinda like me. Piercings are interesting, depending on the location, but the one thing I really dont care for are the ear vagina's. I dont get the whole,"Lets make the ear lobe have this HUGE gaping hole that will hang and look really weird when I am old" thingy...its a bit gross and kinda a deal killer. Im not a big drinker, but I will have a Guinness with pretty much anybody. Dont like big fancy dates, and Im not impressed by fancy dinners out. I prefer to meet and have coffee somewhere so we can sit and talk and I can see if there is that spark of interest that will fuel the fire. I haven't felt it often, and the few times I have felt it,its been when there was no chance of it being lit and burned. The slow burn I used to have is still there and still so far away. I miss it, and perhaps that is what keeps me from being willing to settle for less the perfect burn, but I do know I wish that something would come along that would light me up and make me forget all about the old embers.

Dear Roger:Being Myself? Oh Boy...I Was Hoping For A Second Date

So tomorrow is the date with the banana suited guy and I have to say I am actually nervous about it. I swear and be damned I am not changing who I am for any man because I dont want a ,"Keeper", that I just want a "Friend with benefits", but this guy impressed me. He has a brain and wit and a sense of humor and he offered me intellectual stimulation on top of all the potential for physical stimulation. I kinda want to try and maybe have a second date and maybe a third. What the hell? I dont want any man around for more than a tumble no matter how cute and alluring and talented he is ...right? I am so set in my ways, so misanthropic, that even my friends know that showing up or staying around too long is a bit of a no go with me. I just get edgy and kinda tense and then I get quiet and nervous. I just dont handle people well, but thinking about wanting a MAN around? That is just crazy!I sleep sideways across my bed,(when I actually make it to it), or I sleep out on the couch. Im moody when I am writing and I often mutter and sometimes pace back and forth and rant or curse and wad up paper and throw it at seemingly nothing. I have adult ADD and that makes even me crazy at times. I will go from cleaning to kitchen and cooking dinner to writing to sketching to talking to my son to putting away laundry to working on the computer to checking the mail to rearranging furniture, all within 10 minutes. I have 5-6 stories I am writing at a time, songs that I am working on so I strum on the guitar and curse and mutter and argue with it when I cant get it to sound like I want. I fill up a sketch book and throw it away, I go without talking to people for weeks, sometimes even months. I am a terrible friend. I am still jumpy about physical contact and with my issues with my wisdom teeth, I am sure that I have death breath even though I practically have sonicared the enamel off my teeth and I should own stock in the company that makes scope.

My fashion sense is odd to say the least. I wear jeans and boots almost constantly. My jeans are either blue or black and I no longer have an ass I have been told. I guess it finally fell the rest of the way off. I am skinny, very skinny, as in can shop in children's sizes skinny. I stick with a size 3-5 but I can wear a size 1 or a kids size L. It pisses me off because its not fair. I have had 5 freaking kids! I should have curves! My ass should not be missing at this point in my life. So my jeans, while I try to wear them tight or at least fitting, are often a little baggy in the ass. I do still have nice boobs, that is my one saving grace. My hair is growing out and is that weird in-between place that cannot decide where the hell it is going. but it is blonde with what I am told natural highlights and tones that people pay big bucks to get put in. My tattoos are in need of touch-ups and one just needs repairs, but on the bright side my adult onset acne is mostly cleared up! yeah! As for shirts...I dont wear t-shirts so much anymore, but I have been told I look like a Domme with my banded collar shirts and black short jackets and silver studs and straps and such. Welllll, I dont know what to say about that. I guess I am a bit dominant in my personality and my wardrobe reflects that, so why should I change that? I am not a pastel kinda girl. I am a black and red and leather and metal kinda person. I would like a second date unless this guy is a stinky booger eater, but I cannot surrender too much of who I am. I will leave my hat at home, fix my hair a bit, wear my best boots and shave my legs,(im going to be a slutty optimist), and hope for the best.

Dear Roger: Men are Bad For Muses

Well I am living proof of the write/artists conundrum. It seems that the more I start to get involved with things of the human realm, the less my writing flows. Its really aggravating.I really understand why misanthropy and and antisocial behavior run in artistic types, because when we start getting all interested and involved with real people, and maybe, perhaps...HAVING SEX!!(GOD PLEASE??!!), the artistic muse hauls ass to some other poor soul that has nothing else going on. Considering that I have only just gone on ONE real date, and talked to a few guys, and defiantly NOT had anything even resembling anything CLOSE to sex, YET, or even a kiss. I find it disgustingly unfair that my muse has fled me and if I could hunt him down I would probably kick him a few times in his peach pits just for the hell of it. Yes, my muse is something I actually picture and argue with or rant at and it has a visual representation that morphs and changes depending upon my mood. Hes male though, and just as arrogant and temperamental as any damn male I have ever tried to work on any project with. This probably has deep psychological implications, chalk it up to "daddy" issues or the whole personality quirk that I have that makes me more of an Alpha female that just could never work with a woman anyway, but my muse being a guy has always been a bit of a source of comfort even though he irritates me at times like this.

I tried writing today, but after I got out my pencil and paper and sat for a bit and it just didn't come pouring out, I knew it was time to put the pencil and paper away and just people watch. If it doesn't just come burning out of me like a forest fire tearing up the side of a mountain destroying the empty paper in front of it, then its not worth putting down. Some nights I wake up with ideas in my subconscious, and in the morning when I stagger my bleary way towards the coffee maker in the kitchen, I often stop to scrawl them on the bedside table if I haven't already scribbled them on my arm or the wall. Those ideas, those are the ones that often work. They are the songs that I looked at today and went,"WHOA!, I fucking wrote that?" I looked them over again and I usually edit shit to death, correcting my spelling or my grammar or my handwriting weirdness, but these songs I wrote...they were pretty damn good, but the thing is I wrote them when I was heart broken and thinking I was never going to move forward. I dont know what I am going to do with them. My son might want to record them some day, he kinda likes,"Over-privileged, Dirty,White Boy Blues", and he thinks "Burning With You" is heartbreaking, and not something he COULD sing because he knows the back story. Maybe I will try to sell them, maybe I will just burn them. I dont know. I have books and books of stuff I have written over the years that will never see the light of day because nobody gives a damn. Im working on losing the morose and sad because the funny has been all over the place up here lately.

Talking to a guy that likes Charles Bukowski and Tom Waits as well as the Monkey men? Hell Rog, if that isnt some weird kinda serendipity at work I dont know what the hell is. I will gladly send my muse on vacation for a while. He could use a tan and some meat on his bones and I could use a good attic dusting. Maybe while he is gone I will gain a new outlook on life.

Dear Roger; Custom Made Man Or is God Playing Pranks?

Okay, I went on a date with "Eastern Promises" accent guy! We met over at a bar near my place and talked for a few hours and it was interesting and exciting and a huge deal to me because I actually managed to psyche myself up enough to follow though and actually go out and meet the guy. It was very hard to sit across from him and talk to him when all I could thing about was how I would really rather drag him out to the back of his car for a quick and dirty. Yeah, its been a long time and I have sex on the brain. I thought I wasn't interested in a relationship and really I am not into a long draw out courtship kinda thing and he is actually an old fashioned , traditional, take it slow kinda guy.He was cute,didnt speak a whole lot of English and has had an interesting life, but I just dont know. I feel like I am car shopping. The whole thing was kinda awkward and weird and we really didn't have a lot to talk about when it got down to it, so I politely looked at my phone, commented he looked tired, and said that I should be getting home. He insisted on escorting me,which I found amusing, and we went our separate ways. He may or may not show up for coffee tomorrow morning, but I am fine with that because I had such an interesting thing happen today.

I got a message in my Gmail account from a guy, and it said, " hey" And included with the message was a picture of a guy in a banana suit. I was intrigued. I figured if he was crazy enough to send me that, then "Why not?" So I emailed him back. We spent the rest of the day talking back and forth and its like he was designed for me. He is snarkily funny, weird and he understands when I use 3 syllable words. He likes Bukowski and Waits and he even backed up those claims by citing his favorites selections and we DISCUSSED!! It was amazing. He is in the same career field I was in and we have so much in common it blows me away. I cannot believe he is real. He even admitted liking the 100 Monkeys. No straight, normal, grown man admits liking them, but he was even able to discuss lyrics and songs and such. I was stunned and a little afraid I was being set up. Maybe someone is playing a sick joke on me and he is an amalgamation of all my dream men in one perfect creature. His picture shows a fit looking fella,with eyes that gleam with mischief, but his face is not clear in the picture. Im not so worried about his looks, his brain is interesting and his humor is great and I am so thrilled to have someone to talk to. We went from emailing back and forth to texting back and forth and we are meeting this week to have a date. I am excited. I hope hes real. But if not, its just another step along the path that has been exciting and invigorating.

Its been fun and I am enjoying just talking to men again if nothing else.

Dear Roger; Flailing About Awkwardly,Adopting Strange Accents, Kicking Crutches: or How I Know I Am Doing Better

Amazing day. Actually a couple of amazing days. I think I am getting better Rog, even if I am not ever going to be a totally normal human being, capable of functioning in polite society, I have made progress that for me is a sign I am getting back to my kind of ,"Normal". Folks commented that lately I have kinda been not as attentive to the lil fella that I kinda have clung to like a talisman this past year, and in fact I had even teased him in a couple of my letters to you. Now thats not exactly true. I did say I was worried and I commented he was to damn skinny in my letters to you, but yeah, in a couple of Twitter conversations I had said some things that were teasing in nature, but hell... with all the bromance that has been flowing around it was just par for the course. I tease my own damn son about that kinda stuff. Anyhow, when this wild ride first started, I would have never done that. Him and his band of merry pervs were the wall I hid behind and the way I communicated with the world. Nothing got around that to touch me. I didnt venture outside the world of the MP3, the laptop, the video and as long as everything was "Out there" I was able to communicate and enjoy them and the things that revolved around them. But then my world changed and I ended up drug up here to Portland and it was terrifying.

It would have been more terrifying to stay, and likely someone would be dead, but shit happens and I boarded that train with my kids and those tickets and that wall changed into a path into the sunshine,(really a weird analogy considering this is Portland and it RAINS all the fucking time), but that day, that splendid day in the sunshine, that weird lil fella and his band changed things for me. I was a stuttering mess who couldnt even have a conversation with a man, or most other, real life, HUMAN beings, much less ones that were charismatic as a Pentecostal Preacher full of the spirit on rapture day,and as handsome as any man I have ever seen, but to be kind to my kid on top of it and patient with me when I stuttered and mumbled out my request? Fuck me running... I was owned hard core for a long time.

The joy and happiness and gratitude has kept me afloat and kept my little family going and laughing in some tough damn times up here away from everything we knew. I have missed my sons, Texas, my dog, having a car, and often I have thought about giving up and going back to AZ and facing whatever my fate would be there just so it wouldnt be so damn hard up here all alone, but then I would think about just how far we have come, and that joy we wouldnt have had. The fact that I have been moving forward, my path to the sunshine that points forward, never backwards, reminds me that I cannot quit.

I have stepped further along my path in the past couple of weeks. I have made some more progress that I thought I could not make. I have actual, real life friends that I have been hanging out with on what is getting to be a regular basis. I have a couple of grown women friends, Sus of course and another friend that I need to get to know better who seems to be an awesome chick, but there are a couple of gals that like the same weird lil band and we get together and talk and giggle about them and the music and we just get out.

That led to the next step along the path, I started going out by myself to a coffee shop and hanging out and watching people and trying to socialize, especially with men. I have longed to find company of the manly type for quite a while, but I am just so damn misanthropic and shy, that its difficult for me to figure out how to meet a guy without freaking him out. Well, yesterday, a guy came into the shop who took my breath away pretty much like the cute lil fella did. That dimpled, charm and charisma with those bright eyes are just deadly! This wasn't a very big fella either, probably no more than 5'7 and I was just flat twitterpated when he walked past me to the counter. The barista knew him and spoke to him. When he sat down, we exchanged glances back and forth and smiles until it reached the point I was an absolute disaster.He finally left and then my friend and I left and I walked around for awhile. We came back later and I decided to ask the barista who he was. You know you are in Portland when you describe a guy perfectly, so perfectly that the FBI could have had him picked up and prone in less than 5 minutes, yet the guy didn't figure out who I was talking about until I said,"He REALLY wore his jeans." Then the guy knew who I as talking about and he said,"OH thats so and so hes in here all the time."

So I had his name, and I was smitten. The first time I have been smitten by a guy that is actually, possibly attainable to me. It made me giddy feeling and I walked home that day feeling like I was walking on air.

Today I went back to that shop, and I sat and drank my coffee and I decided to see if he came back in. He did, as I was leaving with my friends to go to a different restaurant for lunch! I died inside, it was fates cruel hand I thought, but with encouragement and harassment I decided to go back over to the coffee shop,(pretending to look for a lost key) to see if I could find the nerve to talk to him. He smiled and spoke to ME! I stammered, I gasped! I took on his accent ala "Eastern Promises" I said I was looking for a key and then promptly showed him my key chain that was in my hand. He smiled at me and directed me to the counter where maybe the staff had the missing key. I fled with my obtained accent while his dimples shined at me through the window.

My friends and the waitress were relentless. A note was written saying that I had forgotten to ask him to coffee while I was looking for the key. My number was included. The intrepid waitress snagged the note and description of her quarry in mind, she did me a great service.

This evening, as I was sitting in my room watching the latest video of my lil cuties that set me on my path, a text came into my phone,"How did you know my name?"

We just finished up a long strange conversation that covered things like ,"Monkeys,keys,paths, courage and accents that strangely surface at odd times." He is younger than me. He is very, very,cute. He has a sense of humor. He doesn't speak English so good, and thats okay, he doesn't need to , because I dont know what part of my path he is, but I do know I have a date for the first time in a long damn time and hopefully, though not tonight, its going to lead to a hell of a lot more than a pat on the shoulder that leaves me staggering and hopefully him too.

The lil cutie that got me here is still my touchstone, but im able to get further and further down the path away before I have to go back and thats a good thing. I will always remember, but it feels nice to stand on my on just a little, even if I am pretty wobbly and talking funny.