Archive for November, 2008

Like lyrics to a song… Home

I talked last time about my job and how people think it’s so great to travel and meet new people and see new cities and countries. Well let’s talk about this a little more in depth. My job requires me to travel regularly. I spend usually 300 nights a year in hotels. That is on a slow year. Many years it’s closer to 330. So that doesn’t leave me much time to form friendships, spend time with family, and leaves NO time for a relationship.

Travelling that much gets very lonely. My work day usually ends with me showing up at the hotel in time to order room service and watch some TV. Then I get online and chat with “friends” for awhile. Some days I get very tired of seeing the same four walls all day and go sit in the lobby with my laptop and pretend to be writing. I enjoy just watching other people that aren’t enclosed in a 25″ TV.

The friends that I have are important to me. Maybe I should clarify by saying that I really only have 1 friend. He’s my BFF who I met during a time of crisis in my life and he stood by me thru that time and has been there ever since. He doesn’t judge me for anything I do or have done. We laugh both with each other and at each other. He gets my sense of humor and I understand his. Along with this BFF I have really only one other person that I would consider a friend. But we see each other so rarely and really don’t have much in common anymore since she left the company, moved away and has her own life. Occasionally I will call her when I’m in town and we’ll have lunch and do the “let’s catch up” thing but then when I leave we don’t speak again until I will call her the next time I’m in town. Sometimes we don’t speak for months and I think the friendship has run it’s course.

The sad thing about travelling for work is that eventually your friends stop calling. I used to have tons of friends that would call all the time and invite me to dinner, to go see a play, to hang out, etc. But time after time of saying “I’m sorry I’m not in town” they just stop. They stop calling. They stop texting. They stop being friends.

The BFF is different. He always makes time for me when he knows I’m coming home for even just a weekend. He calls me every couple days to see what I’m up to and just catch up. We chat online and through e-mail. He’s very special to me and I hope that it stays this way forever.

This job gets very old and each time I go home to recoup, do laundry, and just “be home” it gets much harder to leave. I pay rent on an apartment that I sleep at maybe 5 days a month. I pay for a car that I drive maybe 5 days a month. I sometimes go three days without ever seeing another human being. And still when I tell people what I do, they always say “wow, that must be so great to be able to travel”. Yeah, right.

My great American dream

I’ve always had a dream that I wanted to be a writer. For as long as I can remember I’ve wanted to have my name on the cover of a book or in a magazine as a contributor. I’ve wanted to spend my days lazing in front of the computer hearing my fingers tap out what will undoubtedly be a best seller.

The only problem is… I can’t think of what to write about. I want to be “an expert on ______”. The thing is I can’t imagine what I can be an expert on unless it’s “an expert on putting off your dreams”. hehe.  Hey maybe that’s what I can write about. I can be the leading expert on not doing anything with your dreams.

Seems that since the invention of Nintendo there are a lot of people like me that just sit around and do nothing all day. Now, okay, I technically don’t sit around all day doing nothing. I do have a great job that I love very much. But with today’s economy the way it is, who knows if the company I work for will be around for another 5 years, 3 years, 1 year, 1 month. So maybe it’s time to get going with this ‘dream’ thing. Even now, as i sit in the lobby of this hotel, I watch the business men and women walk thru with their briefcases and laptops and think are they living their dream? Now long should I wait to get started?

And once I leave work and get home or get to my hotel in whatever fabulous city I’m staying in for the week I do the same thing almost every night. I order room service, watch some TV, then log on to gay.com and chat with my “friends” until way past my bedtime. Don’t hate me because I’m fantastic. Everyone thinks my life is great because I get to travel with my job. I can tell you, it’s NOT. It’s quite boring going from city to city. Not knowing when you will be going home again. Trying to time your visits home with paying bills, seeing family, hanging with friends, the theater, the opera, etc.

I’ve been in the beauty business for 20 years and I know a lot about the industry. I can tell you all about the latest skin care discovery, which product will do what it says, what shampoo to use, where you can go to get the best deal on a flat iron. But is that really what I should do with my life? Seems like a bit of a shallow exisitance. Of course if I can make $100k a year doing that, why not?

I’ve been contemplating writing a novel. Kind of a “it’s my life but I’ve changed some things around to make me seem fabulous and everyone else look sad and lonely” book. You know, Sex and the City for gay men. Like that bitch ever made enough money with a weekly article in the newspaper to afford that apartment and those shoes. Not until she was working at the magazine would she be afforded the luxury of those shopping trips and even then it would be with substantial discounts for “the trade”. But I digress.

So what advice do you have? How many of you are doing what you really want to do? Did you spend all of 5th period Algebra thinking “when I grow up I am going to be a clerk at Macy’s. Did you daydream about working in that accounting firm? Have you always longed to do something else? Have you taken a chance and gotten rid of your “old life” and started anew? Tell me what you did.

I think it’s time for me to start my “new life” and go after my American Dream. Or maybe not.

Forgive the flood

yes I copied a few of my older blogs off my old blogsite and copied them over to this site. I wanted to save some of these for personal reasons. They are some of my favorites or just some that had a topic that I really like.

So sorry for the flood of posts all on the same day.  Like the tens of readers care anyway.  hehe

Is my life complete?

Complete?

 

In an earlier post I talked about the fact that none of my dreams from as long ago as i can remember having dreams ever included my being old. I have never had daydreams of being an old man sitting on a rocker. blah blah blah.

I started thinking today about the future and I’ve come to a conclusion… I may be complete. I don’t have any yearnings left. I don’t have any unfinished business. I feel spiritually empty. As if I am simply now waiting to get hit by that Sara Lee truck that I’ve dreamed of since I was a kid.

I’ve never worried about retirement. I’ve never sat up at night and wondered how I was going to take care of myself when I got old. Because I never once expected to grow old. Is that odd?

I’ve always known that I would die DRAMATICALLY! Like in a flaming car crash or a shootout betweeen two rival gangs. But with my luck I’ll get into a fender bender, the airbag will inflate and I’ll scrape my nose on it then get some flesh eating bacteria and die from MRSA or something. Or I could always be caught in those automatic doors at Wal-Mart. Just as I enter the store the doors would close unexpectedly and then go into “cartoon” mode where they open and close rapidly until my head explodes and then the doors close completely and you see the word ACME at the top.

Maybe I just need to start telling the people I love that I love them as often as I can in case I don’t see the truck coming at me. I’m sure I won’t have time to make any calls after the wreck since I’ll have to spend a few minutes licking my way through all the strawberry cheesecake to freedom.

Smartass or bitch?

Bitchy

 

To bitch or not to bitch?  That is the question. Lately I’ve had a LOT of people telling me that I’ve become a mega bitch. I don’t get it. I’m just as fucking sweet and wonderful as I ever have been.

Could it be true? Could I be turning into a complete bitch?  No, it fucking can’t. So there. Deal with the fact that I’m just not a cuddly little lapdog that’s going to sit by and look cute and nod and agree with everything that you say. Fuck that shit.

I’m me!  And I’m fucking fabulous. I have a great sense of humor and most of the things that people have been jumping on me about has been jokes that I have told. Here’s an example that happened recently in a chatroom.

Fag:  Anyone from Ada? (Sidebar- Ada is a fucking small ass town of like 10,000 people or something equally as unimportant. No gay population. They have a WalMart and I guess think they have reached the bigtime now)

Me: Why would anyone be from Ada?

Fag: Well you don’t have to be such a bitch. blah blah blah hateful talk blah blah blah.

Now I don’t think that was anything so horrible as to be abused in response. It’s not my fault if someone cant’ understand my humor. Try getting your own sense of humor first, then tell me if I’m being a bitch.

I aint no one’s pet

I just bought you as my pet.

 

No, you didn’t just buy me as your pet. Why?  Because I’m not for fucking sale.

So please, don’t feel the need to email me and tell me how much you are worth and invite me to find out how much I’m worth. First off I’m not going to download some virus laden program into my computer just to find out that I’m worth more money than you would ever offer.

Thanks. Smooches


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