Loving someone who does not love you back makes for an interesting experience. I feel like I am split in two. Tonight I walked with him for ten minutes, and never once looked him in the eye. I couldn't manage it. I felt the moment I did, I would be betraying the understanding that we have: we are just friends. And once I cross that line, the friendship is over. I would lose him, and betray myself. Love can overpower anyone at any time. In the past I would have withered under its relentless attack. Tonight I felt like I could fight back.
Sunday, November 17, 2013
How I Know I Love Someone
Loving someone who does not love you back makes for an interesting experience. I feel like I am split in two. Tonight I walked with him for ten minutes, and never once looked him in the eye. I couldn't manage it. I felt the moment I did, I would be betraying the understanding that we have: we are just friends. And once I cross that line, the friendship is over. I would lose him, and betray myself. Love can overpower anyone at any time. In the past I would have withered under its relentless attack. Tonight I felt like I could fight back.
Thursday, November 14, 2013
Imagine a Room...
Imagine a room that you might inhabit. Imagine a box in this room. Where is this box in the room and how large is it? Imagine a ladder in the room. Where is this ladder and how large is it? Imagine flowers in the room. How many flowers are there and where are they in the room? Imagine a horse of your very own. What would this horse be like? Where is this horse in relation to the room? Out the window is an approaching storm. Describe this storm. How does it make you feel?
These were the questions posed to me earlier this evening by a friend, and this is how I answered:
1. How large is your box and where is it? My box is the size of a small night stand and in the corner.
2. Where is the ladder and how large is it? It's a fairly large ladder, and it's hanging on the wall like a work of art.
3. How many flowers are there and where are they? There's a bouquet of flowers and they're in a vase on the box.
4. What is your horse like? It's golden brown, and it's roaming the farm just outside my window.
5. What is the storm like? It's an ominous thunderstorm with heavy rains, but I'm not afraid of it. In fact, the winds cool my room.
Have you answered these questions honestly? Here are the interpretations:
1. The box is your ego. How large and where it is in the room speak to its place in your life. I was told that I have a moderately sized ego, that it's under control, and that I know not to let it dominate my life.
2. The ladder speaks to ambition. I have ambition, but don't always act on it. Right now, I seem to be contemplating it.
3. The flowers are your friends. I have a good mix of people close to me, and I hold them dear (as they are sitting on top of my box, my ego.)
4. The horse is your partner. The more you describe the horse, the pickier you are about what you seek in your partner. I let my horse roam freely outside, but I take comfort in knowing I can see it at all times.
5. The storm is your coping mechanism. I don't let my troubles overwhelm me. In fact, I try to turn them to my advantage.
I was blown away by how accurate this little psychological puzzle was. I found it to be all essentially true. How about you?
These were the questions posed to me earlier this evening by a friend, and this is how I answered:
1. How large is your box and where is it? My box is the size of a small night stand and in the corner.
2. Where is the ladder and how large is it? It's a fairly large ladder, and it's hanging on the wall like a work of art.
3. How many flowers are there and where are they? There's a bouquet of flowers and they're in a vase on the box.
4. What is your horse like? It's golden brown, and it's roaming the farm just outside my window.
5. What is the storm like? It's an ominous thunderstorm with heavy rains, but I'm not afraid of it. In fact, the winds cool my room.
Have you answered these questions honestly? Here are the interpretations:
1. The box is your ego. How large and where it is in the room speak to its place in your life. I was told that I have a moderately sized ego, that it's under control, and that I know not to let it dominate my life.
2. The ladder speaks to ambition. I have ambition, but don't always act on it. Right now, I seem to be contemplating it.
3. The flowers are your friends. I have a good mix of people close to me, and I hold them dear (as they are sitting on top of my box, my ego.)
4. The horse is your partner. The more you describe the horse, the pickier you are about what you seek in your partner. I let my horse roam freely outside, but I take comfort in knowing I can see it at all times.
5. The storm is your coping mechanism. I don't let my troubles overwhelm me. In fact, I try to turn them to my advantage.
I was blown away by how accurate this little psychological puzzle was. I found it to be all essentially true. How about you?
Wednesday, November 6, 2013
Much to be Thankful For
Life has been so good these past few years that I seem to have lost track of this blog. The truth is I have been putting all my energy into writing screenplays, and have been seeing some interest from producers and managers. Nothing has been optioned as of yet, but I vow to write on. I use the word 'vow' purposefully because I've married my writing.
After 10 years of dates, 10 years of sitting at restaurant tables that did more to alienate than anything else, I realized I wasn't going to find that someone to settle down with. A lot of the guys couldn't get past my HIV. But there were also a few who were all right with it. I even dated a few guys who were also HIV+. Chemistry can be so elusive. But it was this one final dinner that made me understand what a colossal joke life could be. I had met him online, and we took to each other right away. After 2 dates, I decided to tell him. We were sitting in a Chinese restaurant when he suddenly, inexplicably, went off into a tirade against HIV+ guys and how they all needed to die. Part of me was mortified. But another part of me was laughing uncontrollably, thinking: it's a good thing I didn't tell him about my status before he decided to lose it completely. The dinner ended. He said he was looking forward to seeing me again after his business trip to Asia. Shortly thereafter I e-mailed him and told him I was HIV+, and that we probably wouldn't be seeing each other any time soon. To his credit, he apologized and cried over the phone to me. I told him not to worry about anything. Earlier this summer, after about 2 years, I saw him on the street in Hell's Kitchen. He was with some other guy. They looked happy. I was happy.
As miserable as that last date was, sitting at that small table in that Chinese restaurant, it was infinitely better than all those times I'd be sitting and waiting to be seen by the doctor. For the last decade I've had to see my doctors 9 times a year. 4 times for blood work, 4 times for discussing results and once for a psychological exam. Waiting rooms are like isolation chambers. Even the one at the clinic I go to for all my medical work. It's pretty obvious that everyone sitting there is also HIV+, but no one ever wants to make eye contact. Making eye contact would be to expose the truth. Anyway, it's my yearly psych exam that ironically keeps me going in life--it forces me to be positive and happy. I never got so much as a C in school, so there's no way I'm ever going to fail a psych exam!
Truthfully, I'd be lying if I didn't say that HIV hasn't turned me a little cuckoo. A writer is nothing if not someone who talks to himself. Constantly. Perhaps that's why I've come back to this blog again. I've gotten a little too comfortable sitting at my desk, talking to my characters, getting inside their heads, forgetting that there's a world just outside my window. I've turned into a homebody! Me, the guy who used to love to travel the world, and learn foreign languages and meet people at parties. I smile as I write this: I've discovered TV. I'm watching American Horror Story this season and loving it. I watched every episode of Korea's Next Top Model, Cycle 4. (It puts Tyra's show to shame.) I've discovered YouTube! Who knew there was so much interesting stuff to be seen? And of course I have my subscriptions to The New Yorker and Wired. I rediscovered my love for Somerset Maugham. On my nightstand is David Byrne's How Music Works.
Where do I go from here? When you're in your head, and in your room so much of the time, floating in an ocean of words, where is it that you drift off to next? I wonder.
After 10 years of dates, 10 years of sitting at restaurant tables that did more to alienate than anything else, I realized I wasn't going to find that someone to settle down with. A lot of the guys couldn't get past my HIV. But there were also a few who were all right with it. I even dated a few guys who were also HIV+. Chemistry can be so elusive. But it was this one final dinner that made me understand what a colossal joke life could be. I had met him online, and we took to each other right away. After 2 dates, I decided to tell him. We were sitting in a Chinese restaurant when he suddenly, inexplicably, went off into a tirade against HIV+ guys and how they all needed to die. Part of me was mortified. But another part of me was laughing uncontrollably, thinking: it's a good thing I didn't tell him about my status before he decided to lose it completely. The dinner ended. He said he was looking forward to seeing me again after his business trip to Asia. Shortly thereafter I e-mailed him and told him I was HIV+, and that we probably wouldn't be seeing each other any time soon. To his credit, he apologized and cried over the phone to me. I told him not to worry about anything. Earlier this summer, after about 2 years, I saw him on the street in Hell's Kitchen. He was with some other guy. They looked happy. I was happy.
As miserable as that last date was, sitting at that small table in that Chinese restaurant, it was infinitely better than all those times I'd be sitting and waiting to be seen by the doctor. For the last decade I've had to see my doctors 9 times a year. 4 times for blood work, 4 times for discussing results and once for a psychological exam. Waiting rooms are like isolation chambers. Even the one at the clinic I go to for all my medical work. It's pretty obvious that everyone sitting there is also HIV+, but no one ever wants to make eye contact. Making eye contact would be to expose the truth. Anyway, it's my yearly psych exam that ironically keeps me going in life--it forces me to be positive and happy. I never got so much as a C in school, so there's no way I'm ever going to fail a psych exam!
Truthfully, I'd be lying if I didn't say that HIV hasn't turned me a little cuckoo. A writer is nothing if not someone who talks to himself. Constantly. Perhaps that's why I've come back to this blog again. I've gotten a little too comfortable sitting at my desk, talking to my characters, getting inside their heads, forgetting that there's a world just outside my window. I've turned into a homebody! Me, the guy who used to love to travel the world, and learn foreign languages and meet people at parties. I smile as I write this: I've discovered TV. I'm watching American Horror Story this season and loving it. I watched every episode of Korea's Next Top Model, Cycle 4. (It puts Tyra's show to shame.) I've discovered YouTube! Who knew there was so much interesting stuff to be seen? And of course I have my subscriptions to The New Yorker and Wired. I rediscovered my love for Somerset Maugham. On my nightstand is David Byrne's How Music Works.
Where do I go from here? When you're in your head, and in your room so much of the time, floating in an ocean of words, where is it that you drift off to next? I wonder.
Saturday, September 3, 2011
Dating Myself
I feel very tempted to change the name of my blog to Dating Myself. Which is what I've been doing the past 7 years in my search for love. And Carrie Bradshaw and friends thought they had it hard. I suppose I have no one to blame but myself for the predicament I now find myself in--HIV- men are not lining up to date someone who is positive. They just aren't. In the past 7 years, I've had a number of first dates. Fewer second dates. Which is when I usually tell the guy about my status. I can honestly say that I have not had a single third date. Zero. Without exception, they have all fled. Can I blame them? I don't know. I never had a positive man say they wanted to date me when I was negative. Would I have also stopped returning phone calls and e-mails? Would I also have not wanted to deal with it?
Whenever I start feeling sorry for myself I just get out of the house and go on a date. With myself. It sounds kind of pathetic, but otherwise it would just get too damn lonely. So today I went down to the East Village to watch a movie. But not before stopping at Subway where I ordered my favorite steak and cheese on wheat. (I must have been feeling extra sorry today because I also got a bag of salt and vinegar chips.) Then I went to the Sunshine theater to watch Love Crime, a French movie starring Kristin Scott Thomas speaking impeccable(!) French. She's such a bewitching actress. I must say I couldn't understand all the negative reviews. I was captivated from start to finish by the performances of the lead actresses.
Part of the craziness of dating yourself is that you've got to talk to yourself while you're on the date. Otherwise, it's not really much of a date, is it? I think this must be how people start to go crazy. Insanity or loneliness? I think it's a no-brainer.
Whenever I start feeling sorry for myself I just get out of the house and go on a date. With myself. It sounds kind of pathetic, but otherwise it would just get too damn lonely. So today I went down to the East Village to watch a movie. But not before stopping at Subway where I ordered my favorite steak and cheese on wheat. (I must have been feeling extra sorry today because I also got a bag of salt and vinegar chips.) Then I went to the Sunshine theater to watch Love Crime, a French movie starring Kristin Scott Thomas speaking impeccable(!) French. She's such a bewitching actress. I must say I couldn't understand all the negative reviews. I was captivated from start to finish by the performances of the lead actresses.
Part of the craziness of dating yourself is that you've got to talk to yourself while you're on the date. Otherwise, it's not really much of a date, is it? I think this must be how people start to go crazy. Insanity or loneliness? I think it's a no-brainer.
Friday, August 5, 2011
It Has Been a While...
It has certainly been a long time since I've posted here. I'm not sure why I disappeared. I think mostly the problem was that I felt I didn't have much to share anymore. I also think that the vast improvement in my health also played a part--I wasn't identifying myself primarily in terms of my HIV. I think I have much to be grateful for.
For starters, my last checkup showed that my numbers are in excellent order. For an HIV+ person, two are important: the viral load and the t-cell count. When I was first diagnosed, my viral load was around 500,000 copies per milliliter of blood. A sick number. For the past several years now, the virus has been undetectable. It doesn't mean the HIV has been wiped out, just that the tests that are used cannot detect it. HIV has been shown to hide in reservoirs of the human body, but an undetectable test means the virus is being kept at bay. The t-cells are the cells that fight off infection. In the average healthy human, this number should be anywhere from 500 - 1500. My t-cell count at the outset was 185, which is technically AIDS. I am happy to say that this number was at 1590 a few weeks ago. I love it when my doctor tells me how she is always impressed by the recovery I've made.
This summer I've been playing tons of tennis. I joined the gay tennis group here in NYC and even played in two tournaments. I NEVER thought I'd be fit enough to do that, but never say never. I've had decent results, but more importantly, have made some of the best friends I've ever had.
Gosh, it feels nice to be typing away in blogger again. I think I'll come back soon and share some more happiness.
For starters, my last checkup showed that my numbers are in excellent order. For an HIV+ person, two are important: the viral load and the t-cell count. When I was first diagnosed, my viral load was around 500,000 copies per milliliter of blood. A sick number. For the past several years now, the virus has been undetectable. It doesn't mean the HIV has been wiped out, just that the tests that are used cannot detect it. HIV has been shown to hide in reservoirs of the human body, but an undetectable test means the virus is being kept at bay. The t-cells are the cells that fight off infection. In the average healthy human, this number should be anywhere from 500 - 1500. My t-cell count at the outset was 185, which is technically AIDS. I am happy to say that this number was at 1590 a few weeks ago. I love it when my doctor tells me how she is always impressed by the recovery I've made.
This summer I've been playing tons of tennis. I joined the gay tennis group here in NYC and even played in two tournaments. I NEVER thought I'd be fit enough to do that, but never say never. I've had decent results, but more importantly, have made some of the best friends I've ever had.
Gosh, it feels nice to be typing away in blogger again. I think I'll come back soon and share some more happiness.
Monday, May 31, 2010
Sermon for May 30 - What is Compassion?
In a nutshell, the willingness to feel someone else's pain. Yeah, OK, how many of us are willing to do that? Hell, I don't want to feel my own pain much less someone else's. This of course bodes ill for the world. With so much pain to go around, how do we go about alleviating it through means that are not chemical or iPhonic related? With so much pain to go around, is it any wonder that most of us are addicted to something like alcohol or nicotine or just about anything that allows us to escape that pain?
Still.
Does the willingness to feel someone else's pain actually help that person? And here the good reverend insisted on a hard and resounding YES! On the condition that said willingness go beyond mere words. "Oh, I feel your pain!" and "You must be going through hell!" just aren't going to cut it. Words are cheap. The only real words are actions. Compassion has to be able to transform suffering. At the same time, we have to take responsibility for our own lives, respecting the lives we've been given.
How are you going to be an agent of life and love to someone this week?
Still.
Does the willingness to feel someone else's pain actually help that person? And here the good reverend insisted on a hard and resounding YES! On the condition that said willingness go beyond mere words. "Oh, I feel your pain!" and "You must be going through hell!" just aren't going to cut it. Words are cheap. The only real words are actions. Compassion has to be able to transform suffering. At the same time, we have to take responsibility for our own lives, respecting the lives we've been given.
How are you going to be an agent of life and love to someone this week?
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Tonight's Sermon - What is Essential?
Tonight I went to the evening service, which I actually prefer because the night air seems to calm everyone down and there's a sing-along before the service starts. No one has to rush off to some afternoon dim sum thingy and most everyone stays for coffee and chit chat upstairs.
What is essential to life? What do we need? What do we need to make us happy? I guess someone has to ask these questions because they're certainly not being asked in school and work and the political spheres which only take up nearly 100% of our living lives. Why is it that these questions aren't being asked in the places where we spend most of our waking hours? That in itself is a telling state of our society. What the good Reverend was saying tonight is that the answer changes based on our situation. True, that. I remember 6 years ago when I first found out that I was HIV+ that all I needed was to know that I wasn't going to be dead in 2 years time. Once I got that answer, then I needed a job. Then I needed a job that would actually not drive me crazy. Then I needed my Dad to not be sick. Then I needed my friend to get better. With our "needs" changing all the time, it's no wonder we're all kind of a little cuckoo and so hard for others to read.
All we need is the grace of God, knowing that we're loved and that we're forgiven for being less than the perfect creatures we are. The problem is that most of us couldn't care less about some distant God and simply want to be loved and forgiven by the people we're surrounded by. Loved by our friends. Family. Boss. Colleagues. Forgiven by these very same people for all the silly and serious mistakes we make. So the challenge tonight was to be an individual who can love and forgive. And if we could all do that, then maybe earth could be a kind of heaven. What we really need is the capacity to be this kind of person. This is what we should pray for. This is what we should try to achieve. To have a godly spirit that knows how to love and forgive.
What is essential to life? What do we need? What do we need to make us happy? I guess someone has to ask these questions because they're certainly not being asked in school and work and the political spheres which only take up nearly 100% of our living lives. Why is it that these questions aren't being asked in the places where we spend most of our waking hours? That in itself is a telling state of our society. What the good Reverend was saying tonight is that the answer changes based on our situation. True, that. I remember 6 years ago when I first found out that I was HIV+ that all I needed was to know that I wasn't going to be dead in 2 years time. Once I got that answer, then I needed a job. Then I needed a job that would actually not drive me crazy. Then I needed my Dad to not be sick. Then I needed my friend to get better. With our "needs" changing all the time, it's no wonder we're all kind of a little cuckoo and so hard for others to read.
All we need is the grace of God, knowing that we're loved and that we're forgiven for being less than the perfect creatures we are. The problem is that most of us couldn't care less about some distant God and simply want to be loved and forgiven by the people we're surrounded by. Loved by our friends. Family. Boss. Colleagues. Forgiven by these very same people for all the silly and serious mistakes we make. So the challenge tonight was to be an individual who can love and forgive. And if we could all do that, then maybe earth could be a kind of heaven. What we really need is the capacity to be this kind of person. This is what we should pray for. This is what we should try to achieve. To have a godly spirit that knows how to love and forgive.
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Sermon for May 2 - Loving Others
It's been months since I've posted an entry, and for good reason--I realized I don't have much to say anymore. It's been more than six years since I found out about my status and I think I am very lucky to still be alive and where I am. The biggest change in my life is that I have started going to church again. It's a congregation of predominantly gay individuals who have decided that they're not going to let their sexuality come in the way of a relationship with a Divine Being. Sure it's hard to square what the Bible says about being gay with being a Christian, but the Bible also mentions that it's perfectly OK to have slaves, too. We'll ask God the hard questions when we get to heaven.
Today's sermon was about loving those people we just can't stand. Lord knows there are a couple of people like that in everyone's life. The minister challenged us today to make a conscious decision to care about someone like that. More often than not, what prevents us from loving someone is that we spend too much time being infatuated with our own selves that we can't see anyone else. Like the beautiful boy Narcissus from Greek mythology, we fail to hear others, too caught up in our own images. Like the nymph Echo who loved Narcissus, we're unable to express what we really feel. Love is not about mushy feelings, but about believing in the potential of someone else. That got me thinking as to the last time I tried to believe in someone other than me. It's apparent I need to start trying a lot harder.
Today's sermon was about loving those people we just can't stand. Lord knows there are a couple of people like that in everyone's life. The minister challenged us today to make a conscious decision to care about someone like that. More often than not, what prevents us from loving someone is that we spend too much time being infatuated with our own selves that we can't see anyone else. Like the beautiful boy Narcissus from Greek mythology, we fail to hear others, too caught up in our own images. Like the nymph Echo who loved Narcissus, we're unable to express what we really feel. Love is not about mushy feelings, but about believing in the potential of someone else. That got me thinking as to the last time I tried to believe in someone other than me. It's apparent I need to start trying a lot harder.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Why Worry
Over the past few days my friend has managed to sit up and actually get her throat to make out words and sounds. Her left side is still quite weak, but through rehab it looks as if she's going to have good mobility. I am grateful.
Why worry?
There should be laughter after pain,
There should be sunshine after rain,
These things have always been the same.
So why worry now?
Why worry?
There should be laughter after pain,
There should be sunshine after rain,
These things have always been the same.
So why worry now?
Monday, November 23, 2009
I Am Sad
The sadness of the past three days has been a tsunami. I am drowning in this indescribable sadness. Catching my breath only makes me grow crazier. I just want to rip all the breathing and feeding tubes out of her body and hug her. I want to take her to get her hair and nails done and make her look like her old pretty self. I want to hear her voice and her laugh. I want my pain to stop. I want to stop crying.
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Accident
I have been in a state of shock for the past two days. One of my closest friends in the world was in a major car accident on Friday. I got a call from her secretary asking me to come to her office and help out. Of course. But I couldn't wait to get out of that office and run to the hospital.
11 hours in surgery. I was crying a lot of that time. I get antsy when I have to sit on a plane for 11 hours, but now my dear friend was fighting for her life. When the surgeon came out, he calmly explained. How her brain had been pushed all the way down to her neck. How her neck was broken. In two places. How the metal plates in her neck would stay with her for the rest of her life. The dreaded question. Was she paralyzed? He wouldn't know until the next morning.
I came home and cried. I cried for so many reasons. I cried because of all the pain she must have been in. I cried because she just had a baby. I cried because I could walk. Because I had a neck that was working. I cried because I felt afraid. I just wanted to crawl into a protective hole and never have to come out and face the world again.
I went to see her again tonight. I had to look for the person in the bed, hidden and covered by all the tubes coming out of her. But the nurse said she had movement in her arms and legs. But that the right side wasn't responding as well as they would like. She couldn't speak. I called out my name. She barely opened one eye. I had to turn away.
My beautiful friend. She has a baby and a husband who need her. If I could trade places with her, I would. Life is so sad sometimes.
11 hours in surgery. I was crying a lot of that time. I get antsy when I have to sit on a plane for 11 hours, but now my dear friend was fighting for her life. When the surgeon came out, he calmly explained. How her brain had been pushed all the way down to her neck. How her neck was broken. In two places. How the metal plates in her neck would stay with her for the rest of her life. The dreaded question. Was she paralyzed? He wouldn't know until the next morning.
I came home and cried. I cried for so many reasons. I cried because of all the pain she must have been in. I cried because she just had a baby. I cried because I could walk. Because I had a neck that was working. I cried because I felt afraid. I just wanted to crawl into a protective hole and never have to come out and face the world again.
I went to see her again tonight. I had to look for the person in the bed, hidden and covered by all the tubes coming out of her. But the nurse said she had movement in her arms and legs. But that the right side wasn't responding as well as they would like. She couldn't speak. I called out my name. She barely opened one eye. I had to turn away.
My beautiful friend. She has a baby and a husband who need her. If I could trade places with her, I would. Life is so sad sometimes.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
What a Day for Yuna and Michelle!
Straight off the bat, two of my favorite sporting figures won today. Yuna Kim, the figure skater, won Skate America with a world-record performance in the short program and then a disastrous (for her) skate in the long. But the combined score was still 13 points greater than the second place finisher. And Michelle Wie finally won her first title on the LPGA Tour through all the noise and criticism of her detractors. How do I tie these two together?Yuna has been on top of the world for quite some time now, certainly since last March when she won the World Championships for the first time. Since then, the media and her fans have placed a 100,000-pound paperweight on her shoulders called "PRESSURE". Today she succumbed to it. But still she smiled for the cameras during the interview. Good for her. As I have learned all too well in the past six years, you learn so much more from your mistakes than you do from your triumphs. Victory is great but it doesn't force you to reflect. To look at yourself in the mirror and ask what it takes to make yourself stronger and happier.
Michelle, after having won a USGA title at the age of 13, would find herself winless for six years. Until today. What a monkey she gets to hurl off her shoulders. So many people derided her as a fluke, a fake and even a floozy. (People say the stupidest things on the message boards.) But still she trudged on, and now, at the ripe old age of 19, she has a win on the most competitive tour for women in the world. And she beat the top-30 players on the money list doing so. Tuning everyone else out. Ignoring the crap. About how you ruined your life and are not worthy of love. And that's what Yuna needs to do today--let this loss go and not let it block her energy. And just like Michelle, she'll find herself in a better place tomorrow.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
2nd UGH! Posting In As Many Days
OK, so let me just sound like a middle school girl for a few days here. Today I was supposed to meet up with someone at 2, someone I met online. I waited until 2:15 without so much as a text message informing me that the date was canceled. I duly left.
At 5:30, I get a text message saying "It's not an excuse, but I just slept all day." I canceled with two other people to meet this person, also HIV+. And I thought all HIV+ people were punctual, courteous, brilliant and handsome. Guess not!
At 5:30, I get a text message saying "It's not an excuse, but I just slept all day." I canceled with two other people to meet this person, also HIV+. And I thought all HIV+ people were punctual, courteous, brilliant and handsome. Guess not!
Friday, October 30, 2009
Falling in Love? UGH
I can't believe I am this infatuated over a guy I met exactly twice. He doesn't even live in New York City and he has been happily married for seven years, but now I can't get him out of my head and it is bothering me. Crap. I am still communicating with him, but have no intention of telling him how I feel. That just wouldn't be right. The way I'm feeling is not right.
In brighter news, the US will begin to admit HIV+ individuals into the country starting next year. It's hard to believe that HIV+ individuals were ever excluded from entering this country yearning for oppressed people, but it is true. Thank God America will no longer be part of a club of nations, Armenia, Brunei, Iraq, Libya, Moldova, Oman, Qatar, Russia, Saudi Arabia, South Korea and Sudan, that excludes HIV+ people from crossing into their borders.
Even if Korea were to change their laws, I don't think I would ever go back again. I think that part of my life is now buried forever.
In brighter news, the US will begin to admit HIV+ individuals into the country starting next year. It's hard to believe that HIV+ individuals were ever excluded from entering this country yearning for oppressed people, but it is true. Thank God America will no longer be part of a club of nations, Armenia, Brunei, Iraq, Libya, Moldova, Oman, Qatar, Russia, Saudi Arabia, South Korea and Sudan, that excludes HIV+ people from crossing into their borders.
Even if Korea were to change their laws, I don't think I would ever go back again. I think that part of my life is now buried forever.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Give Her the Gold Medal Already
The Olympic figure skating season started this weekend at the Grand Prix event in Paris. Yu-na skated two nearly flawless programs. The short program had her skating as a Bond girl; in the long program, courtesy of Gershwin, she was the young lady seducing and being seduced on a night out on the town. Yu-na won both the short and the long, setting a new world record for both long program and overall score. Just magnificent!
Sunday, September 20, 2009
The Sermon on Sunday
"What you have doesn't change who you are. Who you are changes what you have."
Words of wisdom from my minister today. She's awesome!
Words of wisdom from my minister today. She's awesome!
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Help Cheronda, Help Help Cheronda....
Cheronda Guyton, former senior vice president for foreclosed real estate at Wells Fargo, who was recently fired for moving herself and her family into one of those foreclosed properties in Malibu, CA (asking price: $12 million) for several months (for free!) this past summer, this song's (with apologies to the Beach Boys) for you:Help Cheronda! Help, help Cheronda!
Help Cheronda! Help, help Cheronda!
Help Cheronda! Help, help Cheronda!
Help Che-ron-da, yeah! Get her out of our hearts!
Friday, September 11, 2009
Forgive Them, For They Know Not What They Do
I cannot imagine what Caster Semenya is going through right now. This is the South African woman who has been tearing up international track races in recent weeks. Medical tests confirm that she has an intersex condition. How can something so profoundly personal have been handled in such an insensitive manner by governing track authorities and the international media? Most people would go ape shit if you went through their laptop. This incident was an invasion of the most private parts of a person and yet countless people are trampling through her body like a pack of rabid dogs, on the Internet so that everyone in the world knows, for crying out loud. My heart aches for her.I remember the time I told a "friend" about my HIV status when I had first found out. He was the only one who knew. A few weeks later, an acquaintance walked up to me in a club and asked if I was really HIV+. I felt so vulnerable and violated. I hate what happened to me that night because a part of me would never trust anyone in the world ever again.
Whatever happens to Caster Semenya, I hope she can find it in herself to overcome. And forgive.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Goodbye S
My friend S died last week of a brain tumor. He was 29. I feel so hollow. Life is so random. Last week I marveled at how the smallest things could make my day: a 3 year-old child who decided to bestow a smile on me; a Starbucks barista who refilled my coffee for free; someone who steadied my balance as the subway came to a screeching halt. And today, I hear the news that S is gone.S ate more than anyone else I knew, relishing every last bite. He could devour four packages of ramen noodles in one sitting. The last time I saw him at the hospital, he gobbled down the hospital food for crying out loud. S was an avid snowboarder and skiier. He loved going to baseball games. When he laughed, he laughed out loud and silly.
If I had known I would never see him again, I would have asked him for his snowboard.
I don't know how to snowboard.
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