A Little Milady

Hey there, all...

It was a fairly eventful weekend, and I got to throw more than my fair share of attention to the arts...so all in all, it was pretty good. :)

Friday, Joey had a big housewarming party...and I don't know whether to really like his new pad or be insanely jealous. Probably a little of both. It's a *very* sweet get-up, with all kinds of computers and TVs and stuff, with a bar that promises to be fully stocked once he gets up to speed. It's very, very cool...just not what I'd want in a house.

We did the whole drinking thing, and watched movies. *Everyone* was there; 2 brought over "Johnny Dangerously," which is definitely worth multiple viewings. I brought my Amos and Andy tapes, and they actually turned out to be pretty boring...nowhere near as politically incorrect as people were making them out to be. If all Amos and Andy movies and cartoons were like that, I really don't see why the NAACP would bother putting up such a ruckus about it; boredom would kill the airings of the program quicker than any protest would.

Spent most of Saturday with Arlekin, and we went to see "The Bourne Identity". That was actually a pretty good movie; the ending seemed a little...well, forced and there was a neat but completely gratuitous twist at the end, but all in all it was really intelligent for a spy movie. The thing that impressed me most, I think, was the dialogue. The director really had a thing for letting actions and silence speak a lot more than words; he wasn't afraid to put a lot of 'dead air' in the movie to illustrate the awkward clumsiness that people have when they're just meeting. There were all sorts of nice interpersonal touches that most people overlook. He had a very fine eye for how people act.

But maybe I'm just reading too much into it. :)

Today (Well, technically yesterday) I spent a good deal of time with Aubrin. We were supposed to be meeting up with a few people for Hethe's furry 3rd edition Dungeons and Dragons game, but no one showed. So, we stopped by Hethe's house, hung out for a bit and then played mini-golf. I was....well, expanding my mind at the time, but I managed to make a 43 on both courses, which isn't the best score, but not the worst either.

Afterwards, Odis and I went out for mini-golf and (after much scrounging) Dinner at Pete's. He drew for a bit, and I read this book that had been recommended to me by Hethe and Kevin. It was a quick read, and it was so good I found myself polishing the book after a few hours.

"The Thief of Always" by Clive Barker, it is...and it's a really engrossing book. It's been quite some time when a book actually made me look at things...well, differently. I'm imagining all the faces and voices in my walls and floors now. :) I had this...epiphany recently, about what faerie tales are like, and how far I've been missing the mark with my games, and how...unlike faerie tales Changeling has actually become. I love the game, but...for a long time, the powers-that-be just don't...get it.

As for me, I think I understand what it *should* be. And now I'll work towards making things reflect that.

Being poor sucks. here's another poem, it's catharsis, dedicated to my mother.

******
A Memorable Gift.

Not knowhing who I am.
All of my insecurities wrapped up in a neat little bow.
Lying on a messy couch and missing your carrot salad,
fear of the future and of becoming unrooted,
knowing I could never go home again.
Cutting the tethers and lifting the ballast
I still don't want to go anywhere
All little boys want to be anchored
as much as we scream for freedom
Now, you've given me my greatest nightmare
Homosexuality and emancipation
All wrapped up
in a neat little bow.
Thank you.

Questioning who I am.
Bald head? Check.
I've got the black turtleneck and the pentacle, too
behind the sunken eyes and fitted smirk
am I a good son?
Failing classes and loving the moon,
are you a bad mother?
I never took the knife out
How much of this is just unrequited rust
coursing through tainted blood
and do I have my feet on the ground yet?
Scratches and bruises
all pointing to the same one thing
covered under the tangled bows...
If I want this present, I'm going to have to work for it.

Realizing who I am.
Three Arkansas winters and two humid summers
with air you can suck through a golf bat,
one unfettered child and no second chances.
Twelve sleeping pills and I didn't want to do it anymore,
four plane crashes and I wanted to hug you
You told me how to make bread pudding by phone
and you laughed at my vow of defiance.
I'm floaty and unreachable
and my fight is with a ball of knotted yarn
and man...I've got Pam's genes.
I've got Pam's genes.
Am I a bad son?
No, just yours.
I don't need the knife out.
It's my root.
To you.

Knowing who I am.
I still miss your carrot salad.
You gave me a strong work ethic
and perfectionist tendencies
and a good moral compass
that always points West.
I've got a good sense of shame
and worth
and it's all an uphill climb
but I've become what I set out to be.
Gay and emancipated.
You were a good mother.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.