Time After Time

So, they're not here.

They Are Not Here.

We Were Not Invited to Join Them.

They Are Sleeping in My House,

What Can They Be Thinking?

That We're Ready to Say

Buh-bye?

Buh-bye.

I have the cutest boxers on. They were an inappropriate gift from Dr. SMJ. They say "Party With Your Pants Down".

I think I will not get dressed.

Fuck 'em

Everybody's Got the Right to be Happy

Bemmy's back.

He's got to move out.

He doesn't know it.

I've got to tell him.

And, he brought Tomas home for dinner. Tomas, who has been looking for a job for a real long time, is supposed to go to Provincetown with us this August, only I don't think we're going . . . and I have to tell him.

Our friend Sonny was supposed to go with us, but he's been invited to present a paper in Finland. He was going to drive with Tomas to P-town. I can't help but wonder if he was being sucked into paying some of Tomas's costs, too. Are we obligated to go even if we have to add other people to the mix? I know that they see each other two to three times a week, so Tomas must have known that Sonny was going to Finland before we did. Why hasn't he brought it up? Is it a manipulation tactic? He is so secretive, he could be on the verge of losing his home, and just not in the mood to talk. Who knows? Tonight I have to talk to him about Provincetown. I don't know what to do! Argh!

I will not talk about Bemmy staying with Tomas there. It's none of his business.

I am pretty sure I'm about to lose two friends. Once they see they've freeloaded off of me for the last time, they'll drop me like a hot potato. Betcha.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Kay and Clark's Wedding was last weekend. We had a houseful of people, who wouldn't stop talking. At one point I asked someone to hand me a pen and paper so I could note what it was I wanted to say, because, God knows, I couldn't get a word in edgewise. And by the time they'd stopped talking to breathe, I'd forgotten what I wanted to say. "My A.D.D. is just so crazy tonight, I can't keep up. .can I have that paper please? . . ." fuckers. I kicked them out on Sunday afternoon. I said "Hey, everybody, anyone who's here after breakfast better count on helping me spread mulch! Or get out." Cheers.

Sunday night Rolf and I went to see Assassins at Signature Stage. It was fantastic. The funniest thing was we're all sitting this black box theatre, 200 of us or so. The chairs sat on a heavily raked platform, and there was just enough room for an isle between the bottom row of chairs and the grand drape, an immense American Flag. To begin the show, the flag dropped to the ground and there sat the whole cast in mirror image: a whole other set of chairs on heavily raked platform. It was so funny, but also so inventive. All the assassins and ensemble members were just sitting in the chairs staring at us, or at some unseen movie. It was so cool.

Monday and Tuesday nights were naked nights. With the drenching rain there was nobody that could look in the house from the park, and I knew that once Bemmy moved in I'd have to keep my clothes on, lest I drive his disgusting self into a fit of lust. So I cooked naked, I cleaned naked, I did laundry naked, I watched tv naked. Now I can't be naked again until I kick him out.

He got home on Wednesday, and we barely saw him. Ha-ha! We went to the Kennedy Center with our good friend (Ms.) Encore, to see Christine Baranski, Harriet Harris, and Emily Skinner in Mame!

If you haven't been to the Kennedy Center, you absolutely must come see. It has halls big enough to have two-way traffic of Mac Trucks. Only it's carpeted in a lovely red, and there are flags from every state and nation hanging from the ceiling in two halls, in the main hall there are huge crystal chandeliers. Encore wore a beautiful beaded black blouse, with dark purple, green, and cobalt foliage in it. Rolf had a beautiful soft green Oxford, and such elegant black slacks; and I wore khaki's and a lavender muumu. Oh I felt so fat.

We went in the Eisenhower Theatre, the same theatre that Bemmy snuck Puck, Memae, and I in last October to see the Chinese Acrobats; and our seats were great! The show was great! I was sobbing with glee by intermission.

Best of all: we snubbed Bemmy!

I don't want to go home.

I Am Superman - or so I've heard

Your results:
You are Superman

Superman 75% Iron Man 60% Supergirl 55% Hulk 55% Green Lantern 45% Batman 45% Catwoman 35% Spider-Man 30% Wonder Woman 30% The Flash 30% Robin 23%

You are mild-mannered, good, strong and you love to help others.

Click here to take the "Which Superhero am I?" quiz...

Amazingly, This Became a Wedding Cake

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Originally uploaded by deboeuf.

so, this part of the cake was completely cooled, before I discovered the middle was still raw. It's now 1:15 AM. My guests won't shut up, and I'm running out of ice. . . oh, the cakes been on it's second bake for 20 friggin' minutes.

Someone Left the Cake Out in the Heat

0623061700.jpg
Originally uploaded by deboeuf.

At the wedding rehearsal, this was the state of Kay and Clark's wedding cake.

yeah, guess; who's baking tonight?

Making up is fun to do

Someone left the cake out, in the rain. . . . WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?!

So, except for being dehydrated, and maybe a touch hung over. . . it's a bright sun-shiney day.

d'Ohgy did not balk at going to the vet. Now that she's had a taste of doggy day-care, which smelled suspiciously like the vet's office, she thought, that first time; she went right in wagging her tail and expecting to play. She realized her mistake quickly, shaking and sending white hair flying like tiny arrows.

The doctor said that there is a cyst on her neck, which does not seem to be sore. So - as I had been trying to explain to Rolf - she said it was probably the "Don't Hurt Me" alarm rather than the serious injury alarm. They sound about the same, exept the serious injury alarm lasts long enough to bring the whole neighorhood to your garden gate. You have to know greyhounds to understand, but they have a shriek that will scare the wits out of you. We hear it most often when somebody is petting her and they just touch her ears. Not that it hurt, she just doesn't trust strangers to touch her ears because they are sensitive, they've been tattooed, and there is the possibility that trainers at the race track yanked on her ears to get her to behave. It is a frowned on, but common practice. The shriek hardly ever happens. Most everybody can pet her and scratch her ears. . . so when she sounds the alarm, it is never expected.

It was hot. We got home, I threw all my clothes off and laid on the sunroom floor, the ceiling fan on full speed, until my skin was cool to the touch.

Cocktail nearby, dressed in the loosest shorts and shirt I could find; I was working on cutting down the Holly "bushes" that bank our front steps when Rolf got home.

"Are you ok?" I asked, knowing he'd worked 50 hours or so already this week. "You must be tired" I said. "Did things go ok at the status meeting?" He looked so deflated.

Responses were mumbles. . . "could be better. . . nnnno I'm ok. . . could have been worse. . . " as he walked with his briefcase into the house.

"Did I tell you I had another car accident today?," he said as he sat down on the steps, now wearing comfortable clothes and holding a large glass of wine.

"yeah. . just like last time. . of course I was late. . sitting at the light reading messages on my blackberry. . the light turned green and I hit the accelerator only to discover that the car in front of me hadn't actually moved, because the light hadn't actually tuned green. . great start to the day . . so of course, I was already late getting to the meeting. . . " a deep sigh and long draft of his wine follows the unfinished thought.

There is a team of road bikers that pass in front of our house every Tuesday and Thursday. I'm digging in the garden, Rolf is sitting on the steps talking; about the accident; work; the house we hope to buy and flip; oh! Oh! and the big news:

Our vacation to Provincetown in August is screwed up. Our host is not going. Now we need two or three more people to go with us or we have to come up with $2,000. And it is the best house.

Anyway, we're talking about all this when the biker's fly by. It is so cool. They all have their lycra bike suits on, usually black shorts and brilliantly colored shirts and helmets.

"God, I love my house" he says. The packs of bikers keep flying by, and I remember when we ran the marathon and people were cheering for us. I want to cheer for the bikers, but the sight of them, the memory, the garden, and the beautiful day have me on the verge of tears and I can't make any sound.

So!" he says. . "Are you going to feed me, or what? And is there going to be any sex tonight? And am I going to be involved?" he joked with out laughing, but with smiling eyes.

stuck in the muck

Pat's Funeral is tomorrow, it's in Portland, Maine. But, Kay's wedding rehearsal is tomorrow too. So, I'm not going to the funeral. One of Pat's jobs had been as the aide to the speaker of the house in Maine. I haven't heard back from Hildi. I'm sure there is a huge outpouring of support from everyone involved in politics there. I bet it's been overwhelming. I hope she'll is ok. I haven't even sent flowers yet. The details about the funeral were just posted yesterday. I don't really know what to do. I think that I read that there have been viewings already, and that they continue tonight.

I can't really ask Rolf, and not just because I can't get in touch with him, but also because we both lost our tempers with each other this week, on Tuesday, and we're not talking too much.

I hurt d'Ohgy by pulling on her collar; he turned into a lunatic. I tried to get him to calm down by explaining that I hadn't yanked on her collar, but that I was going to pull her where I wanted her to go because she was disobeying - and that I forgot that she had a sore spot on her neck - so it wasn't intentional, and it wasn't . . . . blah ljfsdkjlsdfd k whatever.

But I wasn't putting up with him screaming at me, nor would I let him pass by me from the kitchen because he was acting like I'd stabbed her with a butcher knife; and I may not have been screaming at him, yet, but I was blocking his way until he threw me aside, and I spun around and punched him somewhere on his torso screaming at him about his screaming at me . . . oh yeah. funtimes. I so totally lost it that I wanted to punch him, I didn't recover my senses until my wrist started to hurt from when I had hit him wherever it was that I made contact, probably on his arm or back. Still, I kicked him when he walked away.

And then I went to bed. I have a feeling he got back to work and continued until way past mid-night. So, we really hadn't talked yesterday. He was still working at 10 when I got home from my guest chef duty for the bride and groom. And I don't know if I mentioned, I guess I did, but I don't remember what I said about the funeral. We haven't made any plans to send flowers. There's a college fund for the kids . . but I 'm just stuck.

Stuck in a combination of shame and mourning. I one fucked up person. We're talking a little bit; if he calls me before his status meeting, I'll talk it over with him.

I'm getting off work early to take d'Ohgy to the vet. I'm days behind on the financial statements and invoicing at work. I finally sent out checks last week, but in the mean-time, all the vendors are calling asking for money. I didn't really send them out last week. I wrote them last week, they went out on Tuesday.

But, similar to last weekend, which I said was really great, except for the tears; I've had some good times this week with Kay and Clark. I'm getting happier and happier about this marriage. It is odd though, because my quirky friend Kay, who is 58, is marrying 47 year old Clark, who is (basically) a paraplegic due to cerebral palsy. It is tremendously difficult to communicate with him. But, he's got a sharp mind trapped in that body. These are two people who have known a lifetime of loneliness. He's lucky to have found her.

Oh her wedding! Did I say quirky!

Honestly, she has really really fantasized that after they are introduced as man and wife, she would get on a skate board, and ski out of the sanctuary being pulled by his wheelchair.

I'm just sayin - I am so blogging this wedding!

There's One More Angel in Heaven

more gay days

Rolf hosted a Gay Pride Happy Hour on behalf of his company on Thursday. It was so cool. Right here in Arlington, on the garden plaza level of their headquarters. We had wine and hors d'oeuvres. I was the official photographer, and all around help. After that we rushed over to Puck and Memae's house downtown, where we had dinner and watched TransAmerica on their huge TV.

Friday I had rehearsal with the Plaids, and then a wonderful evening with Mrs. Walker (my Tommy wife) and her friends. She said that we made the party! Well, I think it was the vodka that made the party. We really had a good time, and I don't think I didn't anything wrong. . . well other than ask some of her friends to expain something to me about Iraq that I was just to stupid to understand, not being a highfalutin lawyer type like they is. . . Yeah, I can be really the opposite of impressive sometimes. We got home at 1:30, I sat down in a over-stuffed chair, poured my self a nice scotch, then realized that I was totally trashed. So, I poured it back in the bottle and went to bed.

Saturday morning, while standing in Safeway picking out a Father's Day card, my cell-phone beeped. Someone had left a message at 8:54. I pressed the speed dial number for voice mail while I scanned the Father's Day Cards.

"Vig, It's Hildi. I have really bad news. Pat's not coming back from Afghanistan. He died day before yesterday. Give me a call when you have a chance. Love you, bye" She began to cry as she hung up the phone.

Our friend, Pat was 41 years old. He had been sent to Afghanistan in January with the National Guard. He had a heart attack. He leaves behind his wife Hildi, and two children ages 12 and14. Although they've lived in Maine for the last 15 years, they've still been close friend of ours. She's from Puerto Rico. Now she's a widow in Maine. Forty-one - Afghanistan - heart attack - Puerto Rico - Maine - Cell-phone message in the grocery store - no one saw me cry.

Rolf was driving us down to my folks. After I had talked to Hildi, and recovered from my second bout of sobs, we settled into the ride and I started to go over my words for the new song I was to sing at the Reston Community Players end of year celebration. First line? There's one more angel in heaven. . .

d'Ohgy sprang out of the car and into my parents back yard before we could get the leash on her. It was a beautiful and clear afternoon. Mom and Dad's annual garden luncheon for the JOY (Just Older Youth) Fellowship had been on Wednesday. They love the garden that Rolf and I created for them, but never-more-so than after this annual garden party for old Baptists. They can't get over how much fun everyone has looking at the garden and asking about the flowers and plants for a woodland garden.

We had a really nice time ourselves. Except Rolf, there were no spouses or boy/girl friends. It was just Mom and Dad, Rolf and I, Joy (my sister) and her children, Shannon and Russ. The garden was beautiful, the conversation was light, and daddy loved the gift that Rolf and I got him from Harper's Ferry. It is a wood carving of an old fisherman's face, with a big nose and nostrils that is really a birdhouse! The birds go in and out of the nose! Daddy laughed so hard he was in tears. Me too.

Saturday night the Reston Bash - was a blast. Two of the cast members of Forever Plaid had bought their white dinner jackets, which they wore with tuxedo-ed flair. We sang "The Catering Drill" and "Crazy 'Bout Ya Baby" from Plaid which was just great great great! So great. I love singing with them! Then *much* later we sang "There's One More Angel in Heaven" from Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. It was a total blast. I got to hang out with the Plaid cast, plus Judy was there from my production of Ruthless! And I made it through the death song without breaking down.

Sunday we went to Driftwood Beach on the Chesapeake with Rolf's family for Father's Day. I've never been to a Chesapeake Bay Beach before, and I was delighted to find that it was very much like a day at the ocean. We were there for 6 hours, so I had plenty of time to visit, and plenty of time to read a book.

All in all - a great weekend - well, except . . except for the tears.

There's One More Angel in Heaven
There's One More Star in the Sky
But Patrick, the things that you stood for
Like Democracy will never die
Like Love and Peace will never die
Like Truth and Light will never die

Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat

And Mom, Rolf & I Played Scrabble too.

Last weekend we went to Lake Anna, where my folks have a house. We didn't go much last year, because every time we wanted to go we found out that there were going to be 45 baptists there. So, we spent our time at Rehoboth (where the baptists fear to tread.)

But, Mom is sick, and Dad is {sigh} . . . Dad is an old. They love having a house down at the lake, Daddy wants to live there, but Mom won't give up her piano playing jobs (church organist, piano teacher, etc.) They worry about being able to keep up with the house, so we're trying to go down there and help them out, Baptists or not.

My Rolf was so wonderful. We've been together for very nearly 25 years. He helps me with my family so much. We've come so far from the days where we were afraid our families would disown us, to be so close. We weeded some garden beds, cleaned out the gutters, and transplanted some azaleas.

(Mom wasn't feeling good on Saturday, she'd just completed a round of chemotherapy the day before. Also, she suddenly has alarmingly high blood pressure which makes her feel very tired, and there is a great risk that she will have a stroke if they don't get it under control. She took cat naps all day, and after a nap Sunday morning, she was feeling much almost fine.)

We didn't get out on the lake much on Saturday because we were doing the chores until late in the afternoon. But on Sunday we spent most of the day playing in the water. Both of the decrepit boats (a ski boat, and a party barge) were working, mostly. My nephew, Russ, and my sister, Joy, bought a Jet Ski. That's Russ and his girlfriend(who I will call Officer Cupcake) in the picture with the Jet Ski.

Russ had cute friends there too. They're all about 23 years old, and average hieght of 6'5". You know I enjoyed floating around and enjoying that view.

We had a bon fire on Saturday night. I remember my sister saying, 30 years ago when she found out that I was gay, that I was to never be affectionate with a man in her presence; and here I was sitting around a bon fire with her, her boyfriend, her son, his friends, and our mother 30 years later, holding hands with Rolf as we all laughed and sang.

All of Russ' friends left on Sunday night, and Joy and her boyfriend left on Monday morning. So it was just Russ, Officer Cupcake, Rolf and I on the boat on Monday. Russ and I did some water-skiing. I decided to take it up again after about six years; it was very painful. I was really thinking that the jet ski was going to be so easy and pain free.

But, well, it had to be me. Those jet ski's are fast. . . and I'd been working on the swift turns, and having a blast really.

Suddenly, I was speeding on very shallow water, and it was getting shallower. While trying to decide which way to turn and what to do about the acceleration: I drove it into the woods.

Oh my god. Can I say that I took the jet ski "off-lake-ing?"

I sat on the jet ski, on land, in a bush, stunned, and wondering why the machine was still running, when I realized that I was very nearly blinded. I had put my head down when I hit the shore, which was totally covered with bushes and trees. The only injury I suffered was some scrapes on my forehead. Well, the only injury so far; I was very afraid that I drove into a patch of poison ivy. I'm a little less afraid now.

Well, I pushed the jet ski, and pulled on the jet ski until I got it back in the lake. And I cleaned a bucket's worth of red clay out the the jet. And I got back on it, and skied back to the swiming party on the otherside of the cove. We were all stunned. It was very funny.

I tell ya. Russ was cool. Really cool. I was terrifed that I'd hurt his new toy, but it was fine. But he was so calm. I was so embarassed. and so very shaken. When he and Officer Cupcake went off for a tandem ride, Rolf and I (floating in our ski vests), held hands and hugged.