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November, 1999I don't know where to begin. The last few days have been strange. They have been pleasant and beautiful in some respects, yet I've found myself on the verge of tears twice. I've been feeling emotional enough that I've even avoided booze. I know from my depressed days that when melancholy is running high, all you need is a little alcohol to start a full blown depression. I don't want to go there again.
Thursday evening I got an e mail from Stuart and Carrie saying they'd called off their plans for a Halloween party at their house for Saturday night. A bit disapointing as they throw the *best* parties, but not to worry, Mark said he'd come over Saturday night to watch the videotaped Grand Prix of Malaysia that we'd missed while in San Diego last weekend. Cool. On top of that, the Skip Barber Racing School called and said they wanted to hire me to officiate their school races at Laguna Seca both Saturday and Sunday. I'd already turned Team Penske down to work for them at the CART race in LA this weekend because I was tired of being on the road from last week. A little work locally this weekend sounded good for fun and extra cash.
Saturday dawned brilliant and warm. The very best weather California gets is in the early Autumn. Halloween weekend is a bit late for it, but it was lovely. At the track I managed to run Race Control and Head Starter duties simultaneously since we were short handed. Saw some great racing. I phoned Mark, who was in SF during the day, but said he was still planning to be back in Monterey by nightfall to watch the race. I went home at 6:00 pm, showered, and got the tape ready in anticipation of Mark calling soon to say he was on his way over.
By 8:00pm I still hadn't heard from him and was starting to feel a little forgotten. I tried calling his phone a few time over the next :45 minutes but it was turned off. By then I was starting to feel like I'd been blown off and avoided. It was only a couple years ago that I sat around my apartment lonely and often drunk feeling this same way about Chris. I wasn't going to let myself get depressed about it. After all, Mark's only a friend I've known for less than a year. I decided to watch the race by myself.
At 9:30, as the taped race ended, Stuart called! He said they were back from their trip up to the SF area and that he and Carrie would like me to come over and watch, live, the Grand Prix of Japan with them on their satelite TV which was due to start in half an hour. Well, that picked me up right away. I thought I was going to have to watch the race on Sunday's delayed network coverage because I don't have a satelite. Getting to see the final race of the year and the World Champion Driver crowned live is much better than waiting for tape delay. Moreover, I was still feeling kinda rejected by Mark, so it was cool someone would think of me and invite me over on short notice.
I was at Stuart and Carrie's by 10:00pm when the race started. Sounds like a weird time for a race, I know, but it was live from Japan where it was already something like 11:00 am the next morning. We had a good time watching the race. Ferrari won the Contstructor's Championship and Mikka Hakkinen of Finland won his second Driver's title. I went home at 12:30 am, looking forward to an extra hour of sleep due to the time change before heading back out to work at the track at 8:00 am Sunday.
When I arrived home, there was a message on my machine. I assumed it was Mark with some sort of apology for flaking, but instead it was my Mom. She was speaking using her "long-suffering Mother" voice. She wanted to invite me to their house to give candy to trick-or-treaters and have some hot apple cider she was making. Nothing unusual in that, it's precisely what I'd done the last two Halloweens. That's often enough to make it a tradition in my Mom's book. Trouble for me was, I'd made plans to have dinner with Brent for Halloween this year. Mom doesn't know about Brent, so she'd have a hard time understanding why I wanted to 'break with tradition'.
But wait! There's more! After the invitation (with verbal undertones that if I didn't come then I must be a terrible Son, probably due to being corrupted all of "those people" that I know) Mom went on to sigh that she didn't know where I was, if I was in LA for the race, with my boyfriend, or what. BOYFRIEND?!!! Who told her about that??!!
When I came out to my parents two years ago, Mom went through a month long crying phase every time she saw me, then stopped talking about it and hasn't brought it up since. I really reached out to my parents and tried to patch things up with them by coming out. It took a lot of effort and I think I did a good job for them. But, when they didn't even want to acknowledge my homosexuality after a month, I felt they were rejecting an important part of me.
They still wanted to see their son, but on a don't ask don't tell basis. Well, if you reject part of me, it feels like you're rejecting all of me. I don't spend much time with my parents because its uncomfortable for me. I feel unworthy around them. I feel like they're always shaking their heads and 'tsk tsk-ing' in disaproval just under the surface of their loving smiles.
As a consequence of their unconditional love having so many conditions, I've not told them about my boyfriend. If they really cared about my happiness they would have asked long ago. Now I suddenly find out my Mom knows and *still* hasn't said anything. My brother had a date over for my Dad's birthday dinner and not once has Brent been invited with me for anything. Not even to hand out trick-or-treats.
It was late in the evening when I got the message. I was tired. I felt doubly rejected, first by my new friend, and then, with much greater impact, by my mother. I went to bed so upset I didn't bother with checking online for mail or turning on my webcam. The more I thought about it all, while lying in the dark trying to go to sleep, the sadder and angrier I got. I fell asleep sobbing a little.
Sunday at the track was a nice distraction. I video taped the CART race from LA that I'd declined to work, while working at my home track. More beautiful Autumn weather and great racing. I called my Mom from the track to tell her I wasn't going to be coming over to hand out trick-or-treats and drink cider. She tried to guilt trip me by saying that it was ready anyways and that she and Dad didn't like it. B.S. They both drank several cups each the last few years. She didn't make any effort to persuade me by inviting my boyfriend to join me in coming over, so I didn't change my plans.
After the races I went direct to Brent's house. I borrowed his shower to get cleaned up after a day in the sun. We had a nice dinner of Pork Roast that he made for me, then snuggled on the bed for a while. It felt *really* good to have his support. There was love I could count on. I needed him a lot on Sunday.
Which brings my tale 'round to this morning. I drove home from Brent's house early this morning in time to shower for work. I checked my web news quickly and was stunned to find that Greg Moore, a race driver I'd met a few times, had been killed on Sunday in a horrible crash at the race in LA I decided not to go to. I felt like I'd been punched in the stomach. I'm so sick of drivers getting killed. It's not fair. Baseball fans don't have to put up with this crap. You don't see famous players (and nice guys) like Mark MacGuire getting hit in the head with a wild pitch and dropping dead on home plate several times a year. To top that off, next to the racing headline about Moore's death, was another story about a famous climber getting killed in the Himalaya this weekend. That's the second famous climber killed there in the last three weeks!
Needless to say I'm a bit distracted at work right now. Just too much emotional negativity is going on, contrasted with some of the nicest, benign weather California has to offer. The juxtaposition is staggering. I feel a little detached from everything right now - like what I see with my own eyes is just playing on a movie screen and not what is real. I'm writing this at work, hoping to purge some of these thoughts from my mind so I can focus on my job again.
To assuage my guilt at not participating in the family tradition of Halloween, I aquiesced to having dinner with my parents and some friends of theirs at their house tonight. I have no idea what lame excuse Mark will come up with for blowing me off, but I'm not going to talk to him until I see him at the Ski Guide's meeting on Tuesday. Brent will meet me later at my apartment late tonight to help repair the damage of dinner. At least I can count on him.
Tuesday November 2nd, 1999
I think I've calmed down a little since the weekend. There's nothing like the banalities of the work week to dull your senses to anything else that happens to be going on.
Dinner at my parent's house went fine. The presance of my parents' friends kept conversation away from any personal issues my Mom might have had. I guess that was both good and bad. Good, because it bought me a little more time to stop being shocked and angry, and bad, because at some point we're going to need to get this worked out.
Actually, this whole 'Mom knows I've got a boyfriend' situation could be a good thing in that respect. Maybe my Mom is telling me she's ready to discuss the whole gay issue again. When I told my parents I was gay two years ago it was because I couldn't relate to them anymore with so much of my social life a secret. Unfortunately it didn't help - they rejected everything I had to tell them. Maybe now enough time has gone by. I want to be more friendly with my parents, but I expect to be treated with dignity and respect. If I'm dating another guy, then I expect my parents to respect my choices. If they are going to continue to make judgements and 'approve' or 'disapprove' of what I'm doing, then we have little to discuss and relations will remain frosty.
After dinner with my parents I went home where Brent was waiting for me, doing some homework. Once again, I was able to count on his support. Fortunately, the dinner went fairly well so I wasn't in a disasterous mood. We snuggled on the couch together and read for a while before turning in for the night. You know what? Having a boyfriend is everything I ever dared hope it would be!
Lastly, for today anyway, I've gotta boast a little. I often search the web for new people and journals. I always sign guestbooks or send an email to the owners of sites that I like. I signed the guestbook of
Richard
of the UK last week. He followed the link to My Back Pages and seems to have enjoyed them. He described me as "one of the undiscovered jewels of the web" in his journal. That was a nice little ego boost. Thanks Richard.
Tuesday November 9th, 1999
My circle of friends among the ski tour guides is turning out to be something special. There's Julie, Shawn (male), Shawn(female), Josh, Jason, John, Renee, Paul, and Mark. As we draw nearer to the ski season and continue to train our new recruits, we seem to be getting closer to each other. I've heard of others having a nice tight group of friends like this, but never really experienced before myself. Its kind of nice. They're getting to feel a bit like family. Family that's a bit more understanding of me than the one I was born to.
Saturday I went golfing with Renee, Paul, and Julie. Paul brought his friend Mark (other than the ski guide and race official Mark)and made an awkward 5 some, but I didn't mind. Paul's Mark was friendly and cute. The round went slowly, we were on the heals of a tournament and none of us were very good. We started before 2:00 pm and couldn't finish 18 holes by dark! The game didn't really matter though, it was just fun with friends.
After the round of golf, I had the entire ski gang over to my apartment for a party. Everyone listened to music, played video games on my PC, played cards, or just found a place to talk. We watched home videos of our camping trip from September. My friends Stuart and Carrie from the race track came over later on and joined in. They already knew Mark, and quickly got to know everyone else. I just can't express what a wunnerful time it was to have everyone at my house enjoying themselves.
At one point, there was a lot of hugging and snuggling going on. Sex nor sexual preference had anything to do with it. It was really nice. Mark and I both said that our families had very little physical expression of affection. Some of the others were very surprised that we never touched our parents or siblings. We decided it must be a Catholic thing, since both are families are strongly Catholic. After that discussion everyone made sure we often got drawn into the pile on the couch.
The only thing missing really, was Brent. The ski guides have met him before, but out in public, not at my house. He was working that night and couldn't be there. My friends have all accepted my sexual preference in stride. They love me for it all the more! But I wonder how they'd feel if they saw me kissing another guy right in front of them? Stuart and Carrie don't mind. They've seen Brent and I together many times before. The others haven't. I do wonder. Maybe I should just ask.
The party finally broke up around 3:00 am. In the process we all became better friends. Secrets were revealed, confidences were shared, bonds were strengthend. How could you throw a better party than that? I went to sleep drunk and happy.
Wednesday November 10th, 1999
Rejoice! My home stereo receiver has been replaced! The original piece I had is quite old. I bought it in Jr. High. It died a sad death in September and I've been without music ever since. My weekend party prompted me to finally replace it with a Rotel unit. I was still installing it as the first of my guests arrived on Saturday night. It was immediately pressed into duty to play party tunes; fun, yes, but not a great environment to check out a new piece of audiophile equipment. Yesterday after work, and before heading back out to the ski shop to run a Senior Guide's planning meeting, I found an hour free to sit in my chair and just listen.
It was shortly after sunset, and the dusky sky was painted in watercolors with thin high clouds, all blues and purples. The colors were muted and washed out, an Autumnal sunset, much more subdued than a splashy midsummer evening. I left the window open to breathe the chill Fall air and enjoy the season, my favorite, in full.
The music I selected matched my mood perfectly - an old album by U2 called October. If you don't know pre 1985 U2, you're not imagining the sound right at all. This music is mystic, celtic, but streaked through with the edgy angst of young rock musicians. I'm very seasonal about my music. I never listen to U2 in Spring and Summer. They're just not a warm weather band to me. The first playing of U2 of the new season is always a happy moment for me, and my new Rotel did not let me down. The hour I had alone with my music was one of the highlights of the week so far.
Song lyrics are as important to me as the music, if the song has words. I'm ashamed to admit that when I'm in a hurry I sometimes miss the song lyrics included in other journals. I shouldn't do that, often they get right to the heart of what the author is trying to say. I missed an important one last week, and only noticed it, and it's significance today. The lyric was in Mickey's journal, back on October 23rd. It came from a song by 10,000 Maniacs, a band I enjoy a great deal, but I didn't recognize the song. It must come from a CD other than In My Tribe, the only 10,000 Maniacs CD I own. It's the words that Mickey highlighted that are important though, because I have no doubt he was speaking directly to me with them. They were about belief.
In general, I am reluctant to believe. Anything. I don't like belief because implicit in belief is a lack of information, an absence of facts. I'm happy to admit that I don't know things, but I'm loathe to assume things to fill the void of ignorance.
There are certain things that require belief, no matter how much I want to avoid it. For instance, everyone has to share in the belief that printed money has intrinsic value or it would just be a very common form of prettily adorned paper. The missing fact in this case is that the paper really does have little value of it's own. I choose to believe in the value of cash anyways. It makes my life easier - I don't have to barter for everything I need.
Truth is the death of belief. Once Muybridge made a time series photograph of a horse galloping, it was no longer necessary to believe that horses only touch one foot to the ground at time in a gallop. It was shown to be true. Once Lister showed that infectious disease was caused by microscopic organisms, it was no longer necessary to believe that it was ill humors or demons that made people sick.
I don't believe that any of these points were the idea which Mickey was gently pushing me towards. The song lyric was speaking about belief in the abstract - the idea that without ideal belief there's no intrinsic worth to anything, no hope for humanity. What is hope, if not a belief? So I'm admonished by believers everywhere that I will be without hope for the future if I don't have some deeply held beliefs.
What can I concede here in the way of deeply held core beliefs?
Our headlong plunge into Autumn continues at an alarming rate. Its amazing to me that half of November is already over. I'm a bit saddened by it. I love this time of year, I don't want it to end just yet. But of course it will, come January 1st. I can remember when this was the longest part of the year. When I was younger, maybe 10 or so, I still loved the period from Halloween to Christmas, but it took forever to actually get to Christmas. I think I remember too much time now. There's too much perspective.
Seemingly only a few days ago, but what was actually more than a month back, I began planning a trip with Renee and James from the ski program to Seattle. The departure date is now almost here, we leave Monterey for the Emerald City on Thursday evening. We'll spend some of the weekend together in Seattle, and some of it independantly visiting friends. I'm looking forward to visiting my very good friend Wade. This trip should also be my chance to finally meet my web friend Mickey in person. If I can squeeze it in, I'll visit my cousin Laura too. Brent has to study for exams and complete his class projects so he's happy to have me be gone and not home distracting him.
Speaking of Brent, I've been able to spend a little more time with him lately, and it's been nice. For the next month or so he's working days, rather than his normal nights. This means his work schedule doesn't conflict with mine to the point that we only see each other two or three times a week. I was even able to spend most of the day on Saturday with him. That's a rare treat for us. It's been a long time since Brent had a weekend day off that he didn't have to sleep the whole day through. We had breakfast out together, where the waitress greeted us as a couple, remembering our many previous visits. After shopping and walking around town a bit we piled on my couch together and watched some movies. I'm still rejoicing in having a stereo that actually works again!
Being with Brent on the couch brought peace to my soul too. I'm *such* a snuggler these days. I'll snuggle with anyone I happen to like and who returns my affection, but its especially nice with Brent. I've decided I prolly enjoy it so much becuase I was so isolated from any kind of physical contact for so long while I was in the closet. Four years ago I couldn't touch anyone without getting the willies. Now, I revel in an affectionate gesture. This is definately one of the big benefits of accepting who I am and just letting go with it. As hard as it was for me before, I'm still convinced being gay has made me a much better person than I would have been otherwise. (I doubt the Rev. Jimmy Swaggert could say the same thing about being straight!)
Sunday I worked at the race track while Brent studied, but then I went over to his house at dinner time and stayed the night. Brent made a pasta dinner for me. We played with his cats. We watched some mindless TV. We read books, resting on the floor against one another. *contented sigh*. Sometimes I can't believe it's really me that has it so nice! What wonderful thing did I do to deserve all this?
Wednesday November 17th, 1999
I'm really surprised after writing the last two sentences of my last entry that the world hasn't caved in on me. I was very much tempting fate there. OK, I don't actually believe in fate, per se, but empirical evidence would suggest that broad statements of contentment like that are invitations to disaster. Would anyone disagree? Murphy? Anyone?
I think that a happy, healthy life, is a life of personal growth and achievement. Life is a process that seems to move in quantum stages. Life appears constant while in its equilibrium state. In this state, slow, cumulative change occurs; we meet new people, the economy changes, we loose loved ones, we hit the lottery. Each day something changes us a little bit, but does not affect our equilibrium state. Then, quite suddenly, enough change accumulates to knock our lives into a new, different, equilibrium state.
Right now, I happen to be in a very comfortable state of equilibrium. Not perfect, mind you, but comfortable. The last one I was in featured loneliness, depression, drinking alone, suicidal thoughts, fear, anger, and poor health. Who knows what the next one will bring or what event will be the one to push me into transition again? I see some of the seeds of change in my life right now. I'm not entirely content with my job or how much money I make. I'm in conflict with my parents over my sexual orientation. My need to explore and live in cultures different from that of my hometown is not satisfied here in Monterey. I'm learning how to keep my life in concert with that of my boyfriend. I'm closer to my friends than I've ever been before. I want to fly again, I've been grounded for way too long.
All these things, and many other more subtle and complex interactions between me and everything else in the world, will eventually lead me on to a very different daily life than the one I have now. The impetus of change is built into the Universe itself. Change is not inevitable, it just *is*. I will welcome it when it's time for me to find a new state of equilibrium, as much as like the one I'm in now.
Until then, I have much to keep me occupied. After work tonight, I need to drive 1.5 hours up to San Jose for a US Auto Race Marshals board meeting. We've got to plan our end-of-race-season awards banquet, and start to organize our schedules for the 2000 racing season. After the meeting, I'll drive back not to my house, but to Brent's for the night, arriving at perhaps 10:00pm, just in time for bed. The next morning, we'll have time for breakfast together before I have to get home and pack for a long weekend in Seattle. I'll meet up with Paul and Renee about 2:00pm to make the drive to San Francisco Airport for our 6:00 pm flight up the coast.
I talked to Mickey today on the phone for the first time. I really wanted to talk with him since he lives in Seattle and I want to visit him while I'm up there. We've been friends for prolly two or three years now via internet. Even so, I'm terribly shy in person, and it's always a little awkward for me when I talk to someone the first time. I made a dramatic and colorful first impression for Michael (Mickey) by opening the conversation with a discussion of the weather. *sigh* I'll always be a social clod, its a wonder I have friends at all. At least a discussion of the weather was practical for me - Seattle doesn't exactly have the same climate as the Central California Coast.
None the less, even though I was feeling awfully self conscious for the duration of the short phone call, we set up a few logistics and agreed to meet at Neighbour's on Thursday night. A dance club isn't the best place to meet someone IRL for the first time, but we both wanted to go there for 80's night, so it was convenient. I'm hoping we'll have a little quiet time together to talk on Saturday. From the quality of our on line conversations, I know once I get past my criminally tragic shyness we'll chat like old friends. There are a few things neither of us have been writing about in the public forum that we have to discuss as friends in person.
I've been quite successful in making good friends via internet. By coincidence, I'll be staying one or two of the nights in Seattle with my friend Wade who I met via AOL a long time ago. Well, only a few years ago actually, it just seems like we've been best friends all our lives. Wade is a wonderful, energetic, upbeat person and I love him dearly. He's nothing like me at all, but we understand each other and each has something unique to offer the other as friends.
I can't wait to get up there. This is going to be a great trip!
Monday November 22nd, 1999
Seattle turned out the way I hoped it would, things going quite well, at least until near the end.
The flight up with Renee and James was fun. We were met at the Seattle airport by James' brother, a Seattle university student who was pleasantly cute, and had an even cuter roommate at his apartment where we were to stay the first night. We got in late, around 9:00 pm, so we had a late dinner at a mall restaurant and called it a night. I was supposed to meet with Mickey at a club in downtown Seattle, but the apartment turned out to be a long way from downtown Seattle and I couldn't get the others motivated to go out that far. I had to call Mickey's home phone and leave a message saying I was sorry for missing our rendezvous since he was already out. I felt like such a flake.
Friday morning dawned cold and rainy. Big surprise for Seattle *G*! The three of us made some breakfast (the students were already gone to class) and then zoomed downtown in a borrowed car. I played tour guide since I know Seattle, at least a little. We went shopping at the REI, then tried to visit the Space Needle, but balked at the $9.00 ticket price just to ride the elevator. On the way back to the car we stopped for coffee, because I like coffee and I liked the guy behind the coffee stand. James tacitly told me he liked him too. James isn't out to Renee or any of the other guides, so it's a sometimes difficult for him.
Our stop for coffee wasn't too long because we had to get down to the ferry terminal to drop off Renee. She was planning to take the ferry over to Bremerton to celebrate a friend's surprise birthday party. That party was in fact the impetus for trip. Once Renee had left our company, James was ready to be gay. We drove up to Capitol Hill (one of the queerer parts of Seattle) from Elliot Bay and had lunch at the Broadway Cafe. After lunch we did a little shopping and general hanging out before making our way to the Counter Culture Cafe in Belltown (urban downtown Seattle) to talk with Sonja, a friend and the proprietress of the cafe, and we waited for my very dear friend Wade to come home from work.
The Cafe happens to be on the ground floor of his apartment building. Wade showed up after we'd managed to drink two cups of coffee. I made James hang around long enough to meet Wade, but then he had to be off to get back with his brother for a rock show somewhere in town. Wade and I had plans to go to Seattle Center to see the premier of the new Warren Miller ski movie, being introduced by Warren Miller himself. We went with a group of friends from his office, and they all turned out to be fun people. The movie got me so motivated for the ski season, I was ready to go skiing right then! Not possible in downtown Seattle, so we settled for a big group dinner at a really kewl Italian restaurant.
At dinner, Wade told me he thought James was really cute, so I called the student's apartment and tried to see if we could convince him to ditch his bro and go out with us to a gay dance club instead. Turned out to be an easy job convincing him. *g* About 11:00, we drove out of town to pick him up, then drove back to go the club, Nieghbours'.
I'm not much of a dancer. Some guys love to dance. Take Wade for instance. He stopped for a couple of drinks at the bar with James and I, then bolted for the dance floor. Once he starts, there's no stopping him. He was dancing pretty much continually for the rest of the night. I don't dance like that. I need plenty of alcohol to even attempt it.
It was just after midnight when I first went out and dared to dance with Wade. My privalege too, because he's one of those charismatic guys that everyone seems to want to dance with. James came out and danced with us too. It started to be fun! I set my personal record of 50 minutes non-stop dancing. And I came back for more later. In fact, we closed the place, not leaving until 4:00 am.
I assumed, correctly, that James would come back to Wade's apartment with us to sleep. What I didn't guess is that would want to bring someone with him. He picked up a cutie and invited him back. I thought that was very imposing, considering James had never even met Wade until earlier that day. Now he wanted to bring a trick back to his apartment?! I was also disappointed for Wade, because he thought James was kind of cute and I was hoping maybe they'd hook up. It just didn't seem right to me.
Wade was initially disapointed, but what James did changed Wade's impression of him almost instantly (mine too!) and so Wade didn't care. I think I was more offended by what my friend pulled than Wade was. I guess I didn't know James as well as I thought. Wade, being as generous as he is, made a little nest for them with some sleeping bags on his living room floor and invited me to sleep in his bed with him. I didn't expect to find myself sleeping with Wade, but there wasn't much option. We both behaved ourselves very well in deference to the fact that I've boyfriend back home and we did nothing but sleep until 12:00 noon the next day.
I woke up in time to call Mickey and make arrangements for lunch with him. James and his boi took off for parts unknown while Wade and I joined Mickey for lunch at The Five Spot, a hipish lunch/brunch kind of place in the swank Queen Anne district of Seattle.
Meeting Mickey in person for the first time was fun. He is very much in person like he is in his writing. His Michael side is deliberate, mindful, and caring. For instance, he thoughtfully brought me an article he'd found in the local paper about motor racing. His Mickey side is a little more mischievous and gleeful. I didn't see a lot of it, but he seemed to enjoy making me squirm just a little when I was hedging at answering a tricky personal question. Not that the question wasn't appropriate, but he just won't let you off the hook when he knows that is the case.
Unfortunately for me, Mickey was driving up to Vancouver to visit his parents that afternoon, so I didn't get that much time with him. I would have like to have seen him in his element, out doing things, instead of just at a table in a restaurant. It made me regret even more not catching up with him on Thursday night.
When Wade and I parted company with Mickey at 3:00 pm, the rest of the trip was looking wide open. James was somewhere off with his boi, Renee was still in Bremerton and wouldn't be coming back until Sunday. Wade had no fixed plans until early the next morning when he had to be at the airport to fly down to LA. We went back home to Wade's place to sit and plan for the evening.
To be continued...
Sunday November 28th, 1999
It was around 4:00 pm last Saturday afternoon. Wade and I were piled on his couch in such a way that only two gay guys who are friends could do. Straight guys could never sit so close together showing obvious affection for one another, though I suspect they sometimes wish they could. Likewise, boyfriends wouldn't pile together quite as casually as we were, boyfriends would make more of a 'together' display for each other. No, Wade and I propped up next to each other watching Football as only two close gay friends are privaleged to do.
James never called to ask us to come fetch him for the night, so we assumed he'd be spending the night with his boi somewhere. Wonder how he'd explain that to Renee, or his brother for that matter? I wasn't going to spill the beans for him, but I didn't want to get caught up in an obvious lie either. I called Renee who told me she was going to stay the night in Bremerton again, and that she'd get dropped off at SEATAC airport at 8:00 am on Sunday and would like someone to meet her there. Wade had a 7:30 flight out of SEATAC, so I told Renee I'd meet here there and then we could get James or his brother to pick us up. Our flight out wasn't until 3:00 pm Sunday and we both didn't feel like spending all day at the airport.
That left the evening open for Wade and I to do something together. Wade called a few of his local friends. Two of them, Matt and Christopher, agreed to have dinner and go out with us. I'd met Matt before on my last trip to Seattle. He's cute, intelligent, crafty, occasionally bitchy, and usually fun. I knew he'd be a good addition to our group. When Christopher came up to Wade's apartment with Matt, he also turned out to be handsome, friendly, fun, and even bitchier than Matt. They were in the midst of an on-going just-for-fun verbal catfight as they came in, and continued it off and on for most of the evening. It was quite entertaining.
We ran through the rain across the street to the Noodle Ranch restaurant for dinner at 7:00 pm. My dinner consisted of a big bowl of Vietnamese noodles with pork and veggies. The other guys had various pan-Asian noodle dishes. We each had a beer with dinner. Mine was a standard sized bottle - Pilsner Urquell - and the other three each had an oversized bottle of Kirin beer. (This will become significant later in the story!).
We finished dinner around 8:00 pm, far too early to go to the dance club we'd decided would be the evening's entertainment. We braved the rain again to go back to Wade's apartment and hang out for a couple of hours. We played "You Don't Know Jack" on Wade's computer and each had a beer and two shots of Tequila while playing. At 10:00 pm we moved on to ARO.space , a techno dance club. Christopher decided he wasn't interested in dancing, so we dropped him off with some friends on the way. The main dance area wasn't yet open when we got there, so we each ordered a drink and sat on a couch in one of the lounges. I enjoyed my Martini while talking with Matt and Wade, and watched the DJ queue up vinyl on two turntables. I was lost for a while in reverie of my time as a DJ at my college radio station.
Shortly before 11:00 pm it was almost time for the main dance floor to open. We actually sneaked in to see it for a minute or two before getting asked to leave and told we could come back in about ten minutes. We decided to pass the time by returning to the bar for a second round. Matt bought me another Martini, while I talked with some Seattlites in the drinks line with us. A few sips into my drink, the dance floor opened and we moved into the big room. There were a few outlying tables there. Matt and I sat together and talked among ourselves and some of the other patrons. Wade immediately went out to the dance floor - he's an incorrigible dancer! I was sure we wouldn't see much of him the rest of the night.
If I had only known how true my assumption was. This is the point, somewhere just before midnight, that the evening turned black. For me, I mean that quite literally. I have almost no recollection of anything that happened from this point on. Near complete blackout.
It's all very strange, because up until my memory is gone, I felt fine. Certainly buzzed, but not too drunk. I had a lot more to drink the night before, in fact. Wade later told me that even well into my blackout period I was behaving normally, with one exception. But I wasn't staggering around blind drunk. The exception was that one time when he came off the dance floor he found me kissing Matt. I can remember thinking Matt was nice, cute, and it would be nice to kiss him, but I don't remember ever intending to actually cross the line and do it. I don't remember the kiss itself either.
In fact, the first memory I have after starting my second Martini is being sick at Matt's apartment on the way home - it is maybe a minute long flash of recollection. Then I have another short memory of being on the road with Wade before sunrise the next morning as we rode to the airport around 6:00 am. That's when he told me I'd kissed Matt. I remember nothing again after that. Wade left me at my appointed meeting place at the SEATAC lobby with all my bags and Scamp, my bear, to wait an hour for Renee. I have no idea how I got all my things packed, or how I came to be at the meeting place. My first consistent memories begin with Renee calling my name out, and me realizing that I had the hangover from Hell and no idea how I'd gotten there.
I've had hangovers and even drunk myself sick and into spotty blackouts before, but nothing like this. I've been drinking long enough to know how my body behaves and how to maintain a good buzz without going over the edge. I even know how to go over the edge a little, but safely. Saturday I had two beers, two shots, and two Martinis spread out over six hours. That's a drink an hour. A rather slowish pace for me. It shouldn't have had a quarter of the effect on me that it did. I had two full meals during the day and evening, so lack of food can't account for my over reaction either.
I told Renee I was very glad to see her and really needed her help. My hangover was debilitating to the point I couldn't do much at all on my own. At first she thought I looked fine, just sitting there, but as she talked to me a little, and then got me moving, she realized I was in very bad shape indeed. Her mothering instincts kicked in, and I'm very grateful for it. She sent me to the restroom with my shaving kit to brush my teeth, then got me a coffee and a bottle of water to drink. She called James on the phone to pick us up.
When we got back to James' brother's apartment I found a sleeping bag to crawl in and hide from the world. I remembered what Wade had told me about kissing Matt and felt terrible about that, besides having a blistering headache and feeling dizzy and sick. My friends made appropriate fun of me, but also came to check on me and give me juice every now and then. At Noon it was time to get ready to leave Seattle, so I mustered the courage to shower. We all went to lunch at a restaurant near the airport where I drank tons of water and choked some food down too, knowing it would help.
With my friend's help I was able to stagger aboard our flight back to San Francisco. I slept most of the way, holding Scamp and looking like a tired child. I guess that's how I was behaving the whole way home, like a dependant child. Renee and James got us out of the airport and into the car to drive the two hours back to Monterey. During the car ride, I still felt bad, but I perked up enough to be able to hold something of a conversation. That was about the best I did all day. I passed out when I got home.
Monday morning it was time to go to work. I felt sick still. I couldn't believe it! I've never had a two-day hangover before. I felt bad enough to call in sick, but didn't since it was a short week already due to Thanksgiving. At work I started to put things together about the whole ARO.space incident, and they didn't add up. I just didn't have enough to drink to destroy myself like that. I sent e mails to both Matt and Wade and ask them to confirm if I drank anymore, perhaps during my blackout period. They both said no, and agreed with the count I'd come up with. The also both confirmed again that I was never staggering around incoherently and never gave the impression I was in trouble at all. They were surprised when I'd gotten sick at Matt's.
I've kind of come to the conclusion that I may have been drugged at the club. Wade thinks that its unlikely and I'm just being paranoid. Matt thinks its possible that someone might have put something in my second Martini when we were up from the table dancing. Total blackout, loss of control when it came to kissing Matt, and a monster hangover seem consistent with what I've heard about the legendary date-rape drugs. I'm not suggesting that Matt drugged me, I trust him not to do something dastardly to get me away from Brent, Matt just happened to be there when all my inhibitions and reservations had been chemically eroded - either by booze or drugs.
I think I was drugged. There was nothing proportional or even within my realm of experience about the night. Things don't add up right. I don't know who did it, or why. I guess I'll never really know what happened. It was weird, unpleasant, and ruined an otherwise fun vacation.
Monday November 29th, 1999
A full week has passed since the fun and unpleasantness in Seattle. I spent most of last Thursday, Thanksgiving Day, at my parents' house. I made myself useful in the kitchen, relaxed in the hot tub with my brother, read some of my novel, and of course, ate the traditional Thanksgiving day meal. We opened a bottle of champagne to toast the holiday and to drink with dinner. It was a new variety we'd never tried before. It turned out to be quite sweet in taste, and we all decided after our toast we'd be much happier drinking a nice bottle of wine from the fridge instead.
Friday, I slept in, then started working on getting my apartment decorated for the Holidays. Around 5:00 pm Brent finished up visiting with his relatives and came over to see a movie with me. I actually went to see it on Wednesday night, alone, while Brent was working and loved it so much that I insisted he see it with me on Friday.
The movie was Princess Mononoke. It is an Anime (Japanese animation) film which was released back in 1997 in Japan, but is now on limited release in the U.S., dubbed in English so those of us who don't speak Japanese can understand the dialogue. I'm told by Japanese speakers (Hi Kevin and Michael!) that the translation is quite good, conveying the right meaning where literal translation would make no sense. The English speaking voice actors seemed just right for the characters, particularly that of the hero, Ashitaka, and heroine, San.
The animation and direction are astonishing.
The movie is quite simply beautiful to look at, independent of the characters and story. The director, Hayao Miyazaki, has photographed the story using many of the bold camera angles in the Anime vocabulary, but has done so more subtly than, say, a scene straight out of a Magna. The business depicted is often stronger in emotion and action than an old Disney fan, such as I, is accustomed to. The change was wonderful. In one scene, Miyazaki eschews glorious trumpets and choirs and strings to convey the vast power of a living God, but instead brilliantly uses absolute silence. The use of silence demands the rapt attention of the audience while signifying the purity of the Forest Spirit.
For me, the most beautiful scenes were deep in the heart of the Forest. Miyazaki uses soft, dim, green light in the forest, punctuated by occasional sun glints which penetrate the forest and reflect off of quiet, moss lined pools of water. Rainbow shimmering dragonflys drift slowly between the trees. I felt the magic and mystery in Miyazaki's forest quite strongly. The mystery and enchantment evoked in the Forest reminded me of gazing into a perfectly flat and still mid-Pacific sea on a moonless night. Floodlamps from the ship shine deep into the clear black water and illuminate the many rainbow hued jellyfish of all shapes and sizes as they slowly pass by.
The story is that of a warrior Prince, Ashitaka, who is outcast from his clan of outcasts when he receives an evil infection while saving his village from a forest demon.
Ashitaka goes in search of the Forest Spirit, whom the Wisewoman foretold can cure his infection if Ashitaka can right whatever evil is loose in the forest creating demons.
In the Forest Ashitake glimpses San, the Wolf Princess and and human daughter of the Wolf God. Ashitake crosses the Forest, and saves the lives of two injured men by returning them to their homes at the edge of the Forest in Iron Town. Iron Town is a mining encampment ruled by Lady Eboshi who has rescued prostitutes and lepers from the cities and given them happy new lives working to subdue the Forest and extract it's riches in iron. Lady Eboshi respects Ashitaka as an honorable warrior, but cannot understand why Ashitaka comes between herself and San when she appears one night to personally fight Eboshi for the Forest.
Lady Eboshi on one side, and the Forest Gods on the other, begin a final epic battle in which the stakes are the life of the Forest Spirit itself. San and Ashitake become a bridge between the sides and fight to restore balance.
Balance is the recuring theme through out the movie. Balance between the Forest and civilization. Balance between the roles and rights of men and women. Balance between good and evil. There are no clear villians in Princess Mononoke - only complicated characters with sometimes internally conflicted interests.
Brent and both really enjoyed this movie. I'd recommend it to anyone. Even purist Disney fans, although they should remember that this is *not* a Disney picture and should not be approached that way. The animation is beautiful. The story is thought provoking. The characters are complex. The hero is, well, I just wanted to take Ashitaka home with me he's so darn adorable! *g*