Nightmares

I had a dream last night that I had sex with Lucille Ball. Not the Lucy Ricardo Lucy — but the 1989 Oscars a-month-before-death Lucille Ball. Yikes! I can’t go into more detail than the fact that I woke up in a cold sweat.

It’s time…

Jimmi, are you up for a New Year’s show?  Lots to report on:

  • Results of Best Gay Blogs “Blog of the Year”
  • Where we’ve been for two months
  • Jimmi’s facelift

Keep an eye open for us!

Rearing my ugly head

I’ve been plagued with depression on and off for my entire life. At times, I didn’t even realize it. Other times, I thought of jumping off buildings. I’m beginning to wonder if I am bipolar or manic depressive or something. You see, I’ve been down in the dumps again — sabotaging good things in my life, playing victim, and treating myself and others like crap. While I haven’t been angry (I think cognitive therapy earlier this year helped with that issue), I have been quite unhappy for about a month.

Blame the holidays. Blame working long hours 7 days a week. Blame whatever you want — I need to feel better. I think its time for anti-depressants again. Last time I took them was in 1999 when I faced depression for the first time. I remember that they really helped me feel better. You see, I have many root issues in my life that I don’t talk about here, with my partner, or anybody. I can’t. I just wish I could make everything negative in my past go away but I can’t. So, I think it is time to numb myself to them. It’s the only thing I can do! For everyone’s sake!

Sorry about the Debbie Downer post. I just had to write. It helps. You shouldn’t have read it if you wanted me to lift you up. Today’s not the day for that.

I hope everyone has a healthy and happy 2008. I sure plan to!

Merry belated Christmas

It’s been quiet around DanNation over the holidays.  Not much has happened on my end except work and recovering from a crazy Christmas Eve.

‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the loft…

…cheer and beer was situated, while we all got coifed…

…while visions of sugarplums danced in our adopted Chinese baby’s head…

…and Dan was preoccupied (as usual) with dishes of yams…or, hams…..

…all-in-all, quite a great night.  And to all of you, a blissful good night!

Anyone got wild and crazy plans for New Year’s?  Let me know…

Overheard on train this morning

A man and woman who must work together were sitting across the aisle from me on CalTrain this morning…

HER: I just moved into a new place.

HIM: Alone?

HER: No, I have a roommate who is REALLY gay!

HIM: What do you mean?

HER: My friend James told me he was REALLY gay and I neglected to ask what that meant. But, now I know. He is a real Drama Queen. Last night, he had a hissy fit because he saw his ex-boyfriend with a new guy.

HIM: Oh, like a woman hissy fit?

HER: Worse…

The fence

The fence runs along the back of a large parking lot at Brannan and 5th Streets. The lot is where I take Louie to pee and poop and run countless times a day. The fence is also where I have made a new friend — a homeless man named Mike and his two cute dogs (who adore Louie). Except, he and his dogs live in the back of his pick-up truck parked on the street just on the other side of the fence.

Mike was there this morning as I took Louie out for some fresh air. The air has been a chilly 54 degrees at most during the day, but Mike was out with his long dirty overcoat and doing some paperwork on the hood of a nearby car.

“Hey Louie! Hey Dan!” Mike shouted as Louie ran ahead to greet his two dog friends through the fence.

“How are you?” I asked.

“I’m great! I’m doing some legal paperwork for my upcoming court case.” Mike seemed to want me to ask about his legal woes. I did not.

Louie started running furiously back and forth along the fence while one of Mike’s dogs copied him on the other side of the fence. “You got plans for the holidays?” Mike asked. I had thought about inviting him to have dinner with us but I haven’t.

“We have a friend coming from New York and will be home relaxing. You?”

Mike told me he was joining family in Northern California for several days. I was embarrassingly relived that I wouldn’t have to ask him to join us. I thought for a moment about the fact he had never asked me who “we” are. I guess it didn’t matter to him.

We chatted about our dogs as one of his headed down the street. He yelled at her to return and she did.

“Do your dogs take off a lot?” I asked.

“No, she likes to wander. I worry about all the trash and needles here for them to get into.”

Louie was still running back and forth when I mentioned the homeless shelter at the end of the alley. Mike told me that he had stayed there once but since the shelter only allows one dog, he preferred sleeping in the back of his truck. I glanced over at his home — his truck had a cab over the entire bed and looked comfy with layers of blankets and his worldly possessions neatly organized in it. A small charcoal grill was smoking just aft of the truck’s back bumper. Mike smiled as he held out his fingers for Louie to take a lick of through the fence.

“It’s too bad this fence is here,” Mike said. “The dogs would probably have fun playing together for awhile.”

I responded. “I know. To get where you are I’d have to walk pretty much all the way around the block.”

I thought about the countless late nights I had come out to this exact same spot and saw the truck sitting across the alley. I could always make out one of the dogs silhouetted by reflected light through the dirty back window of the cab, watching Louie and me carefully as my dog did his thing. Sometimes, another homeless person would be squatting nearby and shooting something up while Mike and his two dogs slept peacefully in the safety of his truck. Other times, the truck would not be parked there.

“Yea – I feel pretty safe in that old truck,” he reassured me, turning slightly to acknowledge his sanctuary.

And, in spite of the proximity to the shelter and drug users, I had always felt pretty safe on my side of the fence, too.

As I hitched Louie’s leash back to his harness, Mike turned and walked away from me towards his stack of paperwork sitting on the Mercedes parked in the next spot. Instant office, I guess. His dogs eyed us intently through the fence as we turned to walk back to our comfortable loft.

As much as I bitch about homeless people in San Francisco — with their crazy, cracked-out demeanors; their using the street as a toilet; and their endless solicitations for money, I realize that Mike seems like a pretty good guy. I was glad to hear that he has family he can go to. I have worried to death about what would happen to his dogs if he lost his truck, for instance. I guess I can say I have a friend. Maybe the fence allows us to be cordial without building a real relationship. Whatever its purpose, I think we both know that fence will always be there.

Party in the loft

We hosted our annual holiday fete last evening. I’m sorry if you couldn’t make it (more in a subsequent post about the beauty of Evite — where you can see who viewed the invitation and DIDN’T respond — but more on that later). I barely made it after a hellish 2-hour commute from Palo Alto. While my headache hurt all day, it was well worth the evening. Donnan did a wonderful job on the flowers and decorations. I made two hot italian sausage lasagnes which were well received.

I know – I’ve gained weight. And horizontal stripes are NOT the thing to wear. I know. I know. I look like a goth bumblebee.

By the way, someone brought us a present — a gnome Santa Claus. We’d like to respond with a sternly worded thank you note. Please let us know if you brought it.

I should blog more often

I got the following email last evening:

Dan,

Just thought I’d bring this to your attention:

http://bestgayblogs.com/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=1164&Itemid=1

Congrats!

Chad

Best Gay Blogs
http://www.bestgayblogs.com
staff@bestgayblogs.com

This is really cool! Thanks to whoever nominated me as Blog of the Year. I have great company, including BrettCajun, Rambling Along in Life with a Stern Point of View, Scott-o-Rama, 1Body2Souls, Famous Like Me, and other great reads. I can picture all of us sitting at the Academy Awards ceremony with each of us on camera waiting for George Clooney to announce the winner. Brett trying to steal camera time. Kelly sitting at the Kodak Theater shirtless. Donnie trying to grope Bea Arthur (who is seated in front of him).

“And the winner is….”

Go vote. Stay tuned.