It's nine o'clock on a Sunday night. I am in the sun-room sitting on the couch, legs stretched out onto the ottoman. The Chirstmas Tree is still up. It's elegant, but topped with a cardboard cut out of a star that Rolf and I made twenty-years ago.

He's downstairs watching TV. I told him I needed some "alone time" to write, to read. I meant no ill; he's not mad; but I hurt his feelings just a little bit. Just another example of best intentions being thwarted by poor communication.

Actually, we've had a peaceful and wonderful weekend. Unlike last weekend, which I'd prefer to forget since it was my fault and it was so painful. So, this weekend has been wrapped in the quilt of forgiveness and gratitude.

Last Sunday and Monday were the worst, with me sure he was thinking "anything's got to be better than this." I had been reaching out to find someone to talk to on Sunday, last week, because I was so upset and feeling really lonely, so I called Paxton. He's not someone I would usually call - I didn't think I wanted to actually talk about our fight, I just wanted someone to talk to. But we really didn't have anything to say to each other - so I invited him to dinner.

By Monday, Rolf and still weren't speaking, maybe I begged him to forgive me, and probably suggested that it was his fault anyway - and that's when he let disillusioned me to that notion. So, when Paxton came over on Tuesday, things were still a little tenuous between Rolf and me.

But it was a lovely evening. Paxton had been only the third person who got to see our Christmas Tree. And he and Cliff are still navigating their way apart even several years after their break-up.

And it was something. Here we are, recovering from an accidental lurch toward divorce, mulling the bitterness, pain, and disgust we have about Cliff having left Paxton. And our hearts just begging us to do something to ease his loneliness . . . and our fight was not shattering as we'd thought.

We started to be sweet to each other again.

Wednesday, I had lunch with Puck, which was great. She's been out of work since June. And suddenly, I don't think my job is all that bad. We had a good long lunch, on a beautiful 70 degree day in January! It was crazy. It felt like the daffodils should have been in bloom for a week already.

Well, Wednesday night was good too. Very quiet, lovely meal of leftover pot roast, pasta, and salad that was just a warm-over. But the house was still very clean . . . and nothing happened. It was just, thankfully, normal.

Thursday, Puck called and said she was coming over. I sense trouble with her and Memae. Memae doesn't think Puck is trying hard to find a job. Puck says she is. She says she's reformatted her resume to be a functional resume, focusing on her skills and experience rather than her job history. She says it's the next ten pages that are going to be a problem; but she's covering that with an excellent cover letter that blames the hundreds of jobs she's had on the economy. Hmm.

Well, Rolf was home for most of her visit. He plays geezerball (that's what we call basketball for old guys) on Thursday nights. So he didn't join us for dinner. She and I watched The Fantastic Four - Return on the Silver Surfer, which really really stinks.

But that was great. I'm trying to manage my depression by being in contact with people more. I'm trying to call a family member and a friend every day. I drink because I drink, and I drink because I'm lonely, scared, ashamed, happy or elated. When Paxton was over on Tuesday we all decided our new year's resolution was "More Friends, More Sex, and no drinking every day." Well, this week . .. two out of three ain't bad.

Friday for dinner it was just Rolf and I. And we didn't really want to do anything. So we just sat here, next to the Christmas tree with wine and cocktails. I finished reading Celebrity Detox by Rosie O'Donnell which I'd only started at lunchtime. I made a consumee out of my chicken stock, which was really neat. I used the consume with frozen red bell peppers and frozen pot stickers, a touch of soy sauce to make a fantastic Chinese soup. A simple salad on the side made for a lovely and elegant meal.

Then we watched 1970's porn and laughed . . .

Saturday, I got up and worked on housecleaning. I had to fire the maids because Rolf's diamond twentieth anniversary is missing. And I can't afford them anyway. So, with best intentions, I did chores. Rolf helped later when he got up. Then we went shopping and to a late lunch, early dinner . . . and came home and watched more hilariously acted 1970's porn while drinking coffee and folding laundry.

And then, drum roll, we went out!

We went to the new Gay Clubs, Nellie's Sports Bar and Town. Nellie's was too crowded, but it was wonderful that DC bars are smoke free now. And we really enjoyed watching the NFL playoff game there before we went across the street to Town.

Walking into Town, I got a huge lump in my throat. Certain that I was going to cry because I found an atmosphere of friends that I thought had been destroyed with the closing of Zeigfields. (And also, because there is something seriously wrong with me. And it's not fun. This getting choked up shit . . . help!)

Town was great. Expansive, high ceilings, a great wall banked with three jumbo TV screens, each screen as big as a movie theater screen, all showing a loop of foam topped cobalt waves tumbling toward the bar. It was really neat.

The drag show was delightful, even if it was somewhat scary - Ophelia Bottoms is a beast in high heals! Rolf felt the spirit we'd been missing since Ziegfields closed too. But Town is so much bigger, with two huge floors and dance floors, not to mention the elegant lounges, it reminded me of The Pier that was the mega dance club of the late 70's. (I took my date there after my senior prom in 1981!)

And Rolf and I danced together after the drag show. Excepting for a fumbled attempt at waltzing in the basement during a rebroadcast of the Vienna Philharmonics New Year's Celebration, it's the first dancing we'd done together, in my memory, since Ziegfields closed in May of 2006!

Then we came home and watched more porn, practiced some skills we'd seen . . .

And then today. I woke with a hangover, but I got up anyway. Intending to update this blog before going off to a wedding. . .

The wedding was past Frederick Maryland, near the mountains. It's a couple of hours away, so it must be close to West Virginia and Pennsylvania. Well, it was a very lovely day. With four flower girls, including a set of four year old triplets, and a ring bearer about the same age, flying about the reception like fairy's flying around flowering cosmos, a beautiful bride and shyly handsome groom . . .

Well, even Rolf got choked up.