I had another anxiety attack tonight. I was walking through the crowds on 23rd Street trying to get to the subway when it started. The difference tonight was that I was able to recognize what was happening and think through it. I forced myself to just breath deep and meditate. The physical symptoms didn't go away but it definitely made them lessen. The whole thing lasted about 30 minutes or so. Thank god the subway wasn't crowded tonight and I was able to sit with my eyes closed and try to stop the effects. For the most part it worked.

Luckily, I have an appointment with my psychiatrist tomorrow and I'll discuss with him what's been happening. What I am hoping that's different this time is waking up depressed tomorrow. Last Friday I woke up in the funk of all funks and I really don't want to deal with that tomorrow. I have way too much to do.

On the good news front. I applied for a teaching job today in the Midwest. Actually, the school has sought me out. I got an email last week asking me if I would be interested in the job. Turns out someone I had worked with about 10 years ago, now teaches there and thought I would be perfect for a position that's opening up in the spring. It would only be for the spring semester but I think it would be perfect for me for the moment and would be a good position to have on my resume. That being said, I don't have all the details so I'm not 100% that I will take it if it's offered to me. I'll keep you guys posted on how it proceeds.

The city was a zoo tonight. The Halloween Parade happened as always but I was smart enough to steer clear of it. My favorite part of the evening though was the topless girls standing in front of the Comfort Diner where my friends and I were gathering to eat. They were exposed for the world to see. One of the girls was quite skinny and had normal size breasts. The other girl was about 300 pounds and was huge. Let me repeat. HUGE. For a moment I was scared for my life, until A.L. convinced me I had nothing to worry about. Maybe this is what triggered my anxiety attack. Of course tonight was the one night that I didn't have my camera with me but trust me they were huge.

I'll sleep well tonight knowing that I don't live in one of the more dangerous cities in the U.S. In fact NYC was only 145 out of 371. I would have guessed us to be far more dangerous than many of the cities that were included. In fact, my hometown of Lexington, Kentucky is less safe than NYC. I don't quite know what to make of that. I have always thought that I was from small town America, home of baseball and apple pie. A place where you could leave the front door open if you wanted, and that turns out not to be true. What's the world coming to?

By chance anyone reading this tonight catch Rick Santorum on Headline News. I was reading and typing and only half listening, but I could have sworn I heard him distancing himself from the President. Can that be true? I mean surely he knows that as a good Christian man he can only get to heaven worshiping, I mean supporting President Bush. Once again, what's the world coming to?

That's it for my soap box tonight. Have a SSSCCCAAARRRYYYY Halloween. Be safe.

I was walking down the street tonight running some errands when I thought of something that I wanted to post about. It was something that I saw on the street that I realized I wanted to comment on. I told myself to jot it down in the journal I carry as soon as I got to a place to stop.
I'm now at that place and for the life of me I have no idea what I wanted to post on. I'm sure it would have been life changing for all of my readers. It would have solved all of your problems and made you rich as well. But alas, that will not be since I wasn't smart enough to write the idea down when I had it. I guess I've learned a lesson here.

I've been depressed all day. Most of you know I'm not new to depression but the medication I take keeps it in check. Today however, I woke up feeling depressed unlike I have felt in a while. I am sure that it's got something to do with the anxiety attack that I had last night. A residual side effect if you will. Luckily I am aware of my situation enough to know that this will pass. However, in the meantime I have to suffer through this feeling of uselessness and worthlessness and wait to feel better. Don't worry though, I have already called my doctor and I have an appointment next Thursday to discuss what's been going on. I just have to make it till then.

When I first woke up this morning I realized that I felt like crap, so I closed my eyes, rolled over and went back to sleep. I finally crawled out of bed at noon. I only got up then because I had to. I was scheduled to have lunch with my friend M.L. So I got ready and headed downtown. We usually meet at the Starbucks at Sheridan Square on Seventh Avenue and then decide where we are going. I got there about ten minutes early and waited. He finally showed (he's always a little late) and I was informed that there was no time for lunch. He had at most 30 minutes he could give me. I was devastated. Now I know that I am overreacting, but when your depressed everything holds meaning. So we sat down, he had coffee and I had iced tea. And we chatted. He told me about work. He's just been promoted to president of his company so work is kicking his butt...in a good way. And I told him about what was going on with me. M.L. is a no nonsense kind of guy. You got a problem. You develop a plan and you deal with it. I don't work that way. So he laid out all the things I needed to do to get my life in order. I mostly nodded and said sure. He of course never looks at the reasons that his plan won't work. That's for other people to deal with, not him. I love him dearly but by the time we were through I was a mess. My depression was worse and I had no idea how to make it better.

I decided that maybe I needed to escape for a little while. I discovered many years ago that when I get into these ruts going to the movies is a "safe" place to hide out for a while so that I don't get into trouble. So I walked up to 23rd Street to see what was playing at the movies. I had just missed the movie I wanted to see and nothing else was starting anytime soon. So I headed across the street to the other theatre. On my way there I ran into my friend D.J. D.J. is an ex-boyfriend although I use the term lightly. We dated ever so briefly until I realized that he was crazy. Then I ended it. We have remained friends althought we haven't talked much since I moved to San Diego. D.J. and I wandered through Chelsea and finally decided to get coffee. So we found a place and settled in and chatted. In truth he's as crazy as he ever was. He over analyzes everything and can't just "feel" his feelings. He a great guy but it takes effort to be around him for long periods of time.

D.J. and I said our good-byes and by that time I was starving. It was almost 4:00 and I hadn't eaten all day. So I headed up the street to a little diner that my friends and I often frequent to grab a sandwich. As I walked through the door I say D.B and headed over to say hi. I was about half way there when he said "He's here." It took a second but then I realized that he meant D.L.C. Oh, Shit!!! Today was the last day that I needed to run into that asshole. It's been more than two years since I have seen him and I know eventually I'll have to face that demon. But not today. Not the way I was feeling. I ducked into D.B.'s booth and hid. I sat there shaking on the verge of another anxiety attack. D.B. calmed me down and we chatted while he waited for his lunch date to arrive. I stayed hidden in the booth until the date got there and then I ducked out.

By the time I left the restaurant I was shaking and miserable. I wandered. I didn't know where to go or what to do. I had a couple of hours still to waste until my plans for the evening. Finally I found myself in a different diner where I finally got something to eat. I was still out of it but was able to get down some food. I was finally calming down. I met back up with D.B. later and we talked about what had happened. He was very understanding.

After seeing D.B. I met up with my roommate C.Z. We had plans for a very New York evening. C.Z. had been invited to the viewing of a short movie in a swanky NYC apartment in midtown. So we headed to midtown grabbed a quick bite to eat (this was several hours later) and headed to the party. The building was a high rise on the newer side with a very efficient doorman ushering people into the building. I should probably point out at this point that the last thing I wanted to do tonight after my day was go to a party where I didn't know anyone and try and be social. We got to the party and it was exactly as I had thought it would be. I was older than most of the people in the room by 15 years. They all appeared to be actors. C.Z. and I said our hellos to the host, dropped our jackets in the tiny bedroom with the gorgeous view and then I found a very nice corner to hide in. I spoke to people who happened by me, but strategically that didn't amount to many people.

The movie was finally started. It was only 25 minutes long and could have been very funny. Unfortunately, I thought it was about 23 minutes longer than it needed to be and wanted it to end almost as soon as it started. As soon as it was over the applause went on and on. I have been at operas with less applause. The director said his thank you's introduced his team and then the party started again. I resumed holding down my corner of the room until C.Z. was ready to go and then we made our way home. It wasn't an awful party and I know under different circumstance I would have had much better time. What I did like about the entire evening is that it was so NYC.

That's it for my day. I hope I haven't bored you guys to tears but I needed to share what was going on with me.

I had a panic attack tonight. In fact I am still shaking a bit and my fingers and toes are still tingling. At one point I thought I was going to collapse on the subway platform. It took all of my strength to force myself to go into the station and get on the train. I felt like I was about to jump out of my skin. If I had had someplace to go to wait it out I would have, but I didn't know where to go and I felt like I needed to hide and the best place to do that was in my room at home. By the time I got off the train the attack was mostly gone except for the lingering side effects. I made my way home, and collapsed in a chair in the living room. My roommate was giving me grief about something I did today and after a deep breath I told him what was happening. He was quite kind. He asked me if I was okay and we chatted for more than an hour. Now except for the shaking and the tingling the effects are gone. I have no idea what triggered it or how to make sure it doesn't happen again. I do know this, it's not fun and I don't want to do it again soon.

I've sneezed at least 60 or 70 times today. No kidding. My allergies kicked in around noon today and haven't stopped since. I finally found my Claritin around 2:30 or so and after about an hour or so it stopped the sneezing but my nose is still running and I feel like I'm half out of it. At one point today I felt like I was going to fall over I was in such a weird state. I'll take more Claritin before bed and hope that I wake up feeling better.

Of course the problem is all the dust being stirred up from unpacking. My apartment is still a mess with piles everywhere. It seems as though I just move the piles from one room to another placing one or two items where they go as I do it. Today I put together a bookcase that I bought from Ikea (don't worry Ur-Spo I wore my special alien repellent hat so that I wouldn't be abducted) and continued working on my bedroom. Turns out there's a floor in there after all.

The weight was 282 today. Now I don't really think that I lost two pounds in the last 24 hours but I'll take what I can get. I have been trying to be healthy. Tonight for dinner I had a cup of split pea soup and a Caesar salad with grilled chicken. I figure that if I can keep this up then 1 year from now I'll weight 185 lbs. again. Thanks for those that have given support, it has meant a lot to me.

Only 6 more days till Halloween.

I am still tired today, but much better than yesterday. I am actually starting to feel like a normal person again. I got up at 9:00 a.m. this morning, made coffee, and started unpacking my boxes. My friends A.L. and F.M. came by around 11:00 a.m. and helped. Between the three of us about 75% of the boxes were emptied. That's not to say it's all put away, but it's out of the box and I can see what it is and over the next couple of days I'll work on getting things where they go.

Of course my bedroom is still a mess. The boxes aren't piled so high but there's still just a path to my bed. A.L. is coming over again tomorrow and that's our project. We are going to get the furniture arranged in my bedroom and start putting my clothes away. More importantly, we are going to find me a jacket to wear. It's been cold as &*$@ here and I have been freezing without a jacket. I found my scarf today but that's not a lot of good against the cold. I figure if we spend three of four hours tomorrow we should be able to make some progress.

It's funny whenever I am unpacking, it's almost like Christmas. You never know what your going to find in the box that you open. Sometimes it's what you are looking for, sometimes it's something that you forgot about, sometimes it's not what you want at all. At least nobody opened the boxes with porn in it today. Of course it took all day to find the box with the clips that support the shelves in my bookcase. We couldn't unpack the books until the shelves were in and we couldn't install the shelves until we found the clips. The day was winding down before I finally found the box they were in. But the books are on the shelves now, the DVD's are in place, the CD's are unloaded. Now I just have to convince my roommate C.Z. to alphabetize them.

One of the first things I unpacked today was the box with the bathroom scale in it. I haven't stepped on the scale for almost six months. Partly because it's been packed away and partly because I was scared of what it would say. So after my friends left today, I took off my shoes, took a deep breath and took the plunge. It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be but it sucked all the same. I was expecting something around 300 lbs. but it was only 284. Only 284. That's not a lot. Who the fuck am I kidding. I have never been so fat in my life. I don't even know how I got this way. Three years ago, I was 180 lbs., in the best shape of my life. Now I breathe hard if I walk up too many flights of stairs.

Long story short I am tired of the weight. I am tired of not being able to wear my clothes. I am tired of being embarrassed to walk into a room. I am tired of not wanting to meet new people. I am tired. So I am going to do something about it. I have eaten very well the last two days. I am going to rejoin the gym. I am going to write down everything that I eat. I am going to stay away from the stuff I know is not good for me. I am going to watch the carbs. And the fats. And the starches. I know how to do this. I have done it before. It's just right now the task is so huge it's overwhelming. It seems like I'll never be skinny again so why bother. I hate being fat and I want to be skinny today. Right now. Someone tell me how to snap my fingers and make the inner-tube around my middle disappear. Please.

Over the next several months I'll be using my blog to track my progress. So some encouragement from you guys would be greatly appreciated. I know it's a long haul but I can do it. I just need to remember that.

Today has been one of the longest days ever. I am exhausted. I don't have the energy to even get up and go to bed. I slept until almost noon today. At that point I got up and moved to the sofa where I dozed off and on for another two hours. At which point I turned the T.V. off and went back to bed where I stayed until 4:00. And I am still tired. I did managed to shower and head down to Chelsea to go to a meeting and then have dinner with some friends. I got home about 10:30 and I feel as if I haven't slept in days. Can't imagine what the problem is. I am hoping that another good night's sleep and I'll feel a little more normal. I can't waste too many more days since I have to get all my things put away and find a job and well get on with my life.

I promise I'll write something more interesting tomorrow night.

3,058.6 miles. That's how far I've traveled in the last seven days. That's a lot of miles. The trip took me through 13 states and some of the most beautiful scenery imaginable. It's truly amazing to drive across the country and watch the view from the car change. Desert, plains, mountains, farmland, cities. Drive six hours and for the most part what you are looking at has changed completely. For my money New Mexico and Pennsylvania were the best. The desert in New Mexico with it's layers of color and sparse vegetation, and the miles of trees in Pennsylvania painted their fall yellows and reds. It's a trip that I would make again without even thinking about it.

A.L. and I got home around 2 p.m. this morning. We drove 17 hours yesterday. We left Kentucky and the rain around 9:30 a.m., drove north through Ohio, then turned east through Pennsylvania, New Jersey, across the George Washington Bridge into Manhattan. The incredible thing about yesterday was that A.L. and I talked for the whole trip. As we were leaving yesterday morning I confessed that I couldn't drive in the silence if I was going to drive all the way to NYC. A.L. asked me what I was talking about and I shared that I didn't like not talking as we traveled. He admitted at this point that he was reluctant to share with me because he thought I would think his stories were stupid. I laughed at him and told him that even if they were stupid I wanted to hear them. So we began talking and didn't stop until we got home. We played a game where we took turns asking each other questions. The questions could be about anything and we had to answer. The only catch was the person asking had to provide an answer as well to the question. The questions covered childhood, sex (of course) family, school, work, boyfriends, etc. Some of the questions were easy, some took thought, and some required confessing deep dark secrets. It was fun and I feel like I really know this guy now. It has really deepened our friendship. I only wish I had mentioned this 5 days ago.

Now that I am in NYC the task in front of me is unpacking the 50+ boxes that I brought with me. My bedroom is stacked floor to ceiling with boxes and there is barely a path to my bed. It took an hour of organizing to even make room for the bed. But tomorrow I'll attack them and hopefully by this time next week everything will be put away...or at least on it's way.

I've only had about 3 hours of sleep...so if there are typos, mispelled words, or something doesn't make sense, forgive me.

Oh the sun shines bright on my Old Kentucky Home,
It's summer the darkies are gay...

Ah nothing like the sounds of my youth to make me miss home. Actually the words to the song were changed a while ago, but occasionally you will see the lyrics in print and they'll be the original version. Of course the question I have is are they really gay? Or just happy? Or both? It changes the meaning of the song if you think about them being gay...but I digress.

I hope I didn't offend anyone with my song of the day. But I am from Kentucky and we were/are a southern state. And if you are in the area for more than about 5 minutes you'll hear someone use the "n" word. Usually someone in my family. But that's a post for a different day.

I am in Kentucky. I drove in from Springfield, MO where A.L. and I spent the night. The trip in today was fine. Not much traffic except in the larger cities and the road construction was kept to a minimum. Of course I am all about knowing exactly how far the construction goes. In Missouri the flashing road signs tell you in minutes how far till the work will be over. The weather for the whole trip has been perfect. It's been sunny and warm (except in Flagstaff, Sunday night) and the sky has been clear. Perfect weather for crossing the country and looking at the sights.

A.L. was the same today. I only timed the quiet once today. We went about 65 minutes in silence only to have the quiet broken with an offer of trail mix. A comment from yesterday suggested I tell a dirty joke or ask questions to get the conversation going. Trust me I have tried this. The exchange will last a couple of minutes and then it will fade off into the distance. In four days of driving he's told only one story. It took about 30 minutes and that was that. I talked to a mutual friend of ours today in NYC and mentioned the silence. He laughed and told me he had wondered how that would turn out. Seems A.L. is quiet with him as well and he was curious about how the quiet would be for 7 days in a truck.

One of the things I also wanted to put into the post last night but forgot was that we can't even look for cute boys (especially truckers). It seems that if a guy doesn't fit A.L.'s exact requirement for a boyfriend then the guys not attractive. I have seen 100's of boys that were cute, not perfect but cute, and each time he'll say sorry he's not my type I don't find him attractive at all. The night before we left, we were flipping channels on T.V. and came across a movie with Montgomery Clift. The boy was hot. Those eyes, those lips. That look. A.L. immediately disagreed with me. "He's not my type, he's not cute. I understand that we all have different types. But I also know that there are a million beautiful guys out there that aren't my type. I try to see the beauty in most people...especially cute boys.
Long story short I have stopped trying to even have these conversations with him.

So I am in Kentucky for 36 hours. I got here at 10 tonight and I leave first thing Friday morning. Tomorrow is going to be spent seeing relatives and doing errands for my mom. Her lawn needs to be mowed and the ceiling fan in the kitchen needs to be replaced. I'm surprised she hasn't done both by herself but she's 67 and doesn't get around as well as she used to. So I am going to do as much for her as I can. I'm trying to talk her into letting me take the piano that's in the living room. No one plays it here and anymore and I would love to have a piano in my apartment in NYC. If only I can talk her into it.

That's it for now.

Me: Are you still cold?
A.L.: Why do you want to stop for food?
Me: Huh?
A.L. Huh?
Me: Are you still cold?
A.L.: Uh, oh...no, I'm good.

That's a conversation I had today with my travel companion A.L. I found out today thru much prodding that he's only ever been on one other road trip in his entire 55 year life. This explains a lot.

I am at the end of my third day on the road, driving from San Diego to New York with all of my belongings. I discovered about 2 hours into my trip that my selection of a travel companion was not good. It turns out that A.L. has only been in a car for more than 2 hours one other time in his life. He's not tuned into the nuances of being a passenger on a road trip.

First, he doesn't talk. Today he spoke 4 sentences in 80 minutes. I know because I timed it. I was bored and the quiet was killing me. The radio in the truck doesn't work and so we are left entertaining ourselves. That's where the talking comes in. 12 hours a day in a truck without a radio means that you have to entertain each other. A.L. doesn't embrace this idea. He spends hours staring out the windows but not talking. If I ask a question to start the conversation he answers in the briefest form possible and returns to staring out the window. Tonight while I was timing the quiet, the conversation above took place. About 20 minutes later he announced that we were almost to Missouri. And then he said something else about 15 minutes later that I don't remember. None of this would be bad if the radio were working but when you've been staring at the road for hour after hour and it's dark and you're tired and your eyes won't stay focused it's up to the passenger to keep the driver awake.

Second, he's not very good at navigating. When he's not staring out the window he's looking at the map. We have a TripTik from AAA so reading the map is easy. And still he can't do it. Today we had a 5 minute discussion about how much further it was to Oklahoma City. He said it was 70 miles, I said it was 104. He insisted saying that we had just passed some small town and it was 70 miles from there. I pointed out that the sign we had just passed said it was 30+ miles to said small town and 104 miles to Oklahoma City. I was finally able to prove my point when we passed the next mileage sign. To make matters worse he's not even good at telling me if I am clear to go or not. It's sometimes hard to see to the right in the truck so I'll ask if the road is clear or not. Today he kept telling me no, so I waited and waited and nothing came. So I asked again and again he said no. I waited and waited and nothing came. I ask him if he was sure and he pointed to a car and said yes he was sure. I then realized he wasn't letting me go because of cars that weren't even on my road. Ugh!!! Then today when we were driving through Oklahoma City during rush hour rather than help me navigate the road he decided getting pictures of downtown were more important so he thrust himself out the window making it completely impossible to see the mirrors or anything to the right. I had to pull him in and explain that if I couldn't see I couldn't drive.

What I have discovered is that A.L. is non-participatory in the trip. He's here to ride and that's it. He doesn't want to make any decisions, help in any way or well participate. This would have been fine if I had known this going into it. But I was expecting some help. I should point out at this point that I have refused to let him drive. Turns out that he hasn't driven anything in over 5 years and I didn't think a 26' Penske truck was the place to learn. Especially when my life and belongings were in the mix.

That's it for my whining for the night. I'll shut up now and be thankful that I am not making this trip by myself. I am in Springfield, Missouri tonight. Drove from Amarillo to Springfield with a pit stop in Tulsa so I could interview for a project that I am hoping to do next summer. It looks like it's mine if I want it so I'll keep you posted. Tomorrow we drive from here to Lexington, Kentucky. I am spending tomorrow night and all day on Thursday at my mom's house. It's the first time I've been home since Christmas so I'll stop by do some errands for her, see some relatives and be on my way on Friday. Should be in NYC by late Friday night at the earliest or early Sunday morning at the latest. As I have an internet connection, I'll keep you posted.

Texas smells like cow shit. At least Amarillo does.

That has been my experience so far.

I am at the end of day two of my cross country trip. I am currently in Amarillo, Texas. As I mentioned it smells kind of funny. It's also a little scary. A.L. and I stopped for dinner at Applebee's tonight. The place was filled with rednecks. And I'd swear everyone turned and looked at us as we walked in. It also didn't help that I had to ask for the manager to get served. We showed up a few minutes before 11:00 and were told that the restaurant had just closed. When I asked for the manager the story changed. I sat there during dinner thinking they were going to beat the crap out of us before we left.

My trip started Sunday morning. A.L. and I woke up early, finished packing the truck and then headed out. We started by stopping at Ikea so that I could pick up a bookcase and some shelves for my new apartment. From there we headed north on I-15. If you're from Southern California that's THE 15. We drove north to Barstow where we met my friend T.M. who was driving south from Las Vegas. We grabbed a quick lunch at Denny's and laughed over T.M.'s vacation and my upcoming trip and then we were on our way.









From Barstow we continued north to I-40 (THE 40) and then headed east. We continued east to Winslow, Arizona. Winslow from the looks of the town is a little on the depressed side. It's run down and has definitely seen better days. However, in the middle of downtown right on Route 66 is a hotel called La Posada. It's an old railroad hotel that has been renovated in recent years and is now having a boom in this little town. The hotel was created in the 20's and 30's to serve the railroad passengers that stopped there. During it's busier times the restaurants there would serve over 3,000 meals a day. During the 60's and 70's the hotel was used as an office by the railroad. They sold off all of the furniture that had been designed for the space, then added linoleum and drop ceilings and made it look like every other office building in the country. The offices closed in the 90's and the hotel was supposed to be torn down. But a couple of guys stepped in and convinced the city, state and some investors that it should be saved and now it's a booming hotel. The hotel is beautiful and charming and it's like stepping back in time to stay there. A.L. and I stayed in the John Wayne Suite. It was small but comfortable and I would stay there again in a heart beat.



We got up this morning, toured the hotel and it's many rooms, ate breakfast and then were on our way. We continued on I-40 east on into New Mexico. We stopped for lunch in Albuquerque. Then continued on into Texas. We are now in Amarillo. The drive has been beautiful so far. The scenery is to die for. The desert is amazing with all of the rock formations and plants. New Mexico is easily the most beautiful of the three states we have been in, unfortunately their roads suck. We were in road construction most of the way east. Of course Texas is a close second so I'll let you know tomorrow how the rest of the state is.

Tomorrow we head on into Oklahoma and then turn north. I'll report tomorrow night how that segment of the trip goes. In the meantime, I can't wait to get to New York. My biggest current problem is where to park the truck when I get to the city until the movers can come and unload it. If anyone has any suggestions let me know.

That's it for now, will report more tomorrow.

Today is my 100th post. I started this blog as a way to document my return to New York. I think it has become more. I use it as way to journal. I use it as a way to vent. To ask questions. To share my life. I am not always sure if I am writing for my readers or for myself. I started out thinking I would only write for me and if no one read it so be it. Now I worry about what people who don't know me will think about me. I think I'll have to learn to balance the two although I have shared some things with my readers that most people don't know about me.

As for today. I have one more day left in San Diego. I have to be up at 7 a.m. tomorrow morning to get my rental truck from Penske. At 10:00 I have about 12 people showing up to transfer my belongings from T.M.'s garage to my truck. I am hoping that it will only take about 2 hours. Then I am treating them all to lunch and beer. Trust me it's the least I can do. After the truck is loaded I have to return my stolen rental car and then I am hanging out with A.N. and A.L. for the rest of the day.

Sunday morning A.L. hit the road east. Actually we are going to Ikea first so I can buy a book case then we are hitting the road. We are taking the 15 north to I-40 then heading east. We plan to get to Winslow, AZ by the end of the first day. Mostly because we want to stay in the La Posada Hotel there. For two reasons. It looks cool and it's cheap. From there we continue east through New Mexico, Texas, Oklahoma, Missouri, Kentucky, Ohio, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, New York. I plan to sleep in my own bed next Sunday night. We could actually get there faster but A.L. and I have decided to take our time and enjoy the trip. I plan to take my camera and document the journey so I'll be posting pictures this week showing all the sights that we see. You guys should let me know if there's anything I should make a point to stop and see/do. Just remember that I'll be in a 22 foot truck so it's not easy getting off the beaten path.

My project in San Diego is done. I finished up at around 4:00 this afternoon. Packed up my computer, said my goodbyes and left. It feels good. I called a few people and sang my "I'm done" song. It was silly, but it's the way I felt. This project has been anything but rewarding and I'm quite sure I won't be working with this team again. It will be a mutual understanding that we'll all be happy with.

My friend A.L. arrived here today. He flew in from San Francisco where he'd been for a a couple of days. He's from NYC and has nicely agreed to drive cross country with me when I leave on Sunday. I'll be in a 22 foot Penske truck, with all of my belongings. It will be the 4th time I have driven cross country and the second time in a truck. It's actually not all that bad and it's the only way I can afford to get my things back to NYC. It won't be the end of the world and we are taking our time so we'll be able to stop in a couple of places along the way and enjoy the sights. If we drove it straight through I could do it in 4 days but I'm expecting it to take 6 or 7. Either way in two weeks I'll be sleeping in my own bed again, which I haven't done in almost 4 months. I can't wait.

I enjoyed writing yesterday's post on coming out. I hadn't thought about my story in a long time. Actually I don't remember the last time I discussed it. I don't like to dwell in the past but I think it's very important to visit every once in a while to kind of figure out where I've been. Last night was such a visit. As I was writing I realized that even though I am from Kentucky, which is a conservative state, I have never had a negative reaction from anyone I told that I was gay. I had a couple of friends get mad at me for taking so long to clue them in, but no one has ever dismissed me, disowned me, or turned away from me. I count myself one of the lucky ones.

When I lived in Atlanta right after college, my parents came down for Thanksgiving two years in a row. My mother brought all the fixin's and we had dinner at my house. Both years I invited friends that had no other place to go and both years that included friends who had been thrown out of their houses. One particular friend Paul was thrown out with none of his belongings and no money. He was told to get out and not to come back. He hadn't spoken to his family since that day and that was several years early. He had just finished high school when this happened. For all of my parents faults I can't ever imagine them saying that to my brother and me for just about anything we would do. They might not like it but they would love us anyway.

It makes me realize how lucky I am sometimes. I haven't always gotten along with my family, and my extended family drives me crazy. But at the end of the day they are accepting of who I am and what I am. They don't understand me, and probably never will. I mean really, who reads books? And goes to school? On purpose. They are already predicting that I'll be back in school in another couple of years. Unfortunately they are the only family I have. And in some weird twisted way I love them. I don't always show it, but I do.

I was reading through the blogs I read tonight trying to comment a little more than I have been because I don't have to be up early tomorrow. Kelly over at Rambling Along In Life was discussing that today, October 11th is National Coming Out Day. I knew that it was coming but it had completely slipped my mind. In fact I hardly ever think about coming out of the closet because I have been out for so long. So in honor of the occasion I thought I would share my story.

I have known I liked boys for as long as I can remember. I first learned the term "gay" when I was in junior high school from the T.V. show Alice. Alice's son had been asked to go on a fishing trip with a friend of hers and then at some point in the show it was discovered that he was "gay." I looked the term up in the dictionary. That lead me to homosexual. That lead me to understand gay was what boy's were that liked other boys. I don't know if I thought of myself that way but there was a term to it.

I spent my puberty years lusting after the boys in my yearbooks. R.H. and D.H. were favorite fantasies of mine. I also found a couple of Penthouse magazines my father had and I was much more interested in the men than I was the women. At this point I would have never admitted this or talked about it with anyone. I've known since I was very young that sex was not something you talked about openly with anyone.

About the time I was ready to get my driver's license an uncle was visiting our house. He was a truck driver and was telling my parents a story about a man coming on to him at a rest area. He ended up punching the guy several times before driving a way. My interest was peaked, maybe that was where boys who liked boys went. To rest areas. I got my drivers license several weeks later and got in to my newly purchase 1971 Chevy Impala (It was as big as Texas) and around 10:00 p.m. found myself in the parking lot of the rest area up the highway from my parent's house. Nothing happened that night but the writing was on the wall if you get my drift. It took several trips but eventually one night I was "picked up" by a beautiful shirtless man. We talked for a few minutes by the picnic tables and then made our way down into the trees. I was so nervous my teeth were chattering.

We did our thing and I made my way back to my car. I felt so dirty and so bad and swore to myself that I would never do that again. And I didn't for a week or two. And then the pull brought me back to the same place. Over the next two years I frequented this place every couple of weeks. After each visit I would swear it was the last time and that it would never happen again. It's funny because I remember being terrified that I was going to get herpes because it had been in the news and all the reports talked about there being no cure. This was several years before AIDS would come into the picture.

During this same time I had a girlfriend. We never did anything more than kiss. I think I played with her tits a couple of time. But I don't think either of us were wanting to go any farther. We dated until the end of my freshman year of college and then she began dating a new guy. If I had to guess I'd say that he was gay to. But that's a different story.

I started college at a small religious college in Kentucky. It didn't help my extra-curricular activities. In fact it probably made them worse. There was no outlet to talk to anyone and I was driven even farther into the closet. Homosexuality was a sin and not to be spoken about. I joined a fraternity, and became one of the guys. I never had a girlfriend but I had the most beautiful dates for all of our parties and events. I did all the things you were supposed to do as a "guy" except for the girl thing. What's funny, is looking back on it, out of the 10 guys in my pledge class I know now that three of us were gay and I suspect two others are too, although we've never talked about it.

In college I didn't dare go to gay bars because I was convinced someone I knew would see me. So I continued to frequent places known for gay sex. It's amazing how far word of mouth would take you, along with some writing on the bathroom wall, before the internet. At this point I didn't know that you could live out of the closet. That people might be okay with the fact that you were gay. There were boys I met at some of the places that I saw more than once. In fact I became quite enamored of one but I think I scared him and he soon ended it. And back I would go to my "places" to be bad. Continuing to promise after each time to never do it again.

After college I moved to Atlanta. I had a corporate job that lasted about 2 months before I went in to my boss, thanked him for the opportunity and quit. To this day it was one of the worst jobs of my life. I worked at J.C. Penny's for a while and then had a boy that I messed around with say to me that I could make more money waiting tables and that his boyfriend could get me hired. (Don't ask. I was friends with both of them till they left Atlanta.) I applied for the waiting job, lied about my experience and was hired.

I immediately fit right in and I took to waiting like nothing I had ever done. I was good at it. Within a couple of days I made a shocking discovery. ALL of the front of house staff except for two bartenders were gay. Not only were they gay, but they were openly gay. They joked about it. They made girlfriend and Mary jokes. They were gay and okay with it. They were all kinds of gay. There was body builder guy. Swishy hostess guy. There was chubby musical theatre guy. There was model guy. There was drug dealer guy. There was cross dressing guy. And there was me. Within a couple of days I found out there was a bet on whether I was gay or straight. All the boys said I was gay. All the girls said I was straight. I lied. Of course I was straight. I could never be gay.

I was young, making more money than I ever had before and I was surrounded by gay men. I was scared shitless. I began flirting with a couple of girls. One in particular. S.W. She was beautiful, and funny, and smart. She was smitten. About two months after I started working there S.W. invited me along with the rest of the restaurant to her and her roommates first annual Jewish Christmas Party. It was to be a huge event and anybody who was anybody would be there. Of course I went. I spent the first half of the evening having fun, drinking too much and flirting with S.W. At one point at th party I laid one on her under the mistletoe. And if I am being honest here I think I might of even given her a hicky.

And I continued to drink. I found myself too drunk to drive and suddenly D. (I don't remember his last name) offered to drive me home. Long story short I ended up naked in the hot tub at his apartment. I spent the night with him. I didn't have my car and I had to be at work the next morning. D. and I strolled in together. The cat was out of the bag. It was one of the longest weekends of my life because suddenly everyone knew and S.W. was no longer speaking to me.

In truth it was for the best. I was out of the closet. I found that suddenly it was okay to be gay. It was okay to sing show tunes in the kitchen. It was okay to snap my fingers and say "you go girl." It was okay to do a lot of things I had been hiding all of these years. I came out of my shell. I learned to joke. And be witty. And have snappy comebacks. And I learned that it was okay to be me. That people would like me for me. At this point I'll add that S.W. didn't have much to do with me for about six months. Then we started hanging out together and became inseparable. We are still great friends and she is one of the dearest people to me in my life. In fact it was S.W. that I stayed with on the evening of 9-11.

These stories are never short so bare with me.

I spent two years in Atlanta. Made some great friends. Dated some wonderful boys. Continued to frequent some of those "bad places" and learned to be gay. There was a point when it was time to leave and I moved back home to go to graduate school. The weekend I moved back I met J.C. and we became instant boyfriends. Now I was in my hometown, with a boyfriend, going to school. My new rule was I might not tell you I was gay but if you asked I wouldn't lie. Within a couple of months everyone at school knew, everyone at work knew and I was just living my life.

Since that time I have lived my life that way. I might not tell you but if you ask I won't lie. I don't always let people know right away because I want them to judge whether they like me not on my sexuality but on the person they meet. My being gay is important to me, but it's not the end all be all of my life.

As for my family. Two years after I moved back home I started dating S.G. He's the love of my life from posts about a month ago. (I promise I'll finish the story.) We moved into together into a beautiful house that had been sub-divided into apartments. We had about a 1200 square foot one bedroom apartment with one bed. For two years in a row S.G. and I hosted my entire extended family for Christmas Eve and we never hid any part of our lives. The books remained out. The magazines remained out. We only had one bed and it was no secret. Everyone had a great time, they loved S.G. and no one asked.

No one has ever asked. Well not really. I am not that close to my family. I love them dearly but I don't discuss much about my life with them and they have never understood me. They don't understand why I would want to go to school for 22 of my 41 years. They don't understand why I would want to leave Kentucky. They don't understand my profession. They don't understand why I do anything. So when we talk, we talk about the weather, and the weather, and well, the weather. And if things really get going we'll gossip about the other family members. But we don't really talk about my life. We never discuss the details of my personal life. They don't ask. I don't tell.

In fact until my father died I had never discussed it with anyone. But in May of 2003 when my father died unexpectedly from a heart attack, D.L.C. (the evil boyfriend) and I flew home to do the things you must do when a parent dies. He attended every event and we slept together in the same bed. He was very much a part of the family and no one questioned his attendance. Not until after the funeral. I had a couple of cousins who told me how much they liked him and that he was a keeper. Two of my aunts told me how much they liked him. I now have a few family members that will ask after him and I have told them we are no longer together.

There's really no reason I didn't tell both of my parents when my father was alive. Or even my mother now. They have always been accepting of whomever I brought home with me. In my time I have brought home just about every kind of person you could think of and they have always been welcome. In fact there are less than savory people my mother will still ask about and I don't have the heart to tell her why I don't still speak to them. And since I am spilling my guts I should also let you know that my brother is also gay and he told my parents years ago. And still I didn't tell them. I just don't think it's important. Not yet. But as I have said. I'll never hide it.

I danced tonight. I don't dance. I haven't danced in 4 years. The last time I remember dancing was fall of 2002. I have to be drunk to dance. And tonight I was a little more than tipsy. I was several sheets to the wind and said what the fuck...and danced. All I can say is that I hope that I didn't embarrass myself too badly. But if I did who cares. I had fun and that's what counts.

Today is Sunday. You have no idea how happy that makes me. First off, tomorrow is my day off. Secondly, Sunday's are an easy work day and there's a huge party to cap off the end of the day with all the free booze you can drink. Third, I only have 4 more days until this little project that I have been on is over and done. It has been one serious pain in my ass. Needless to say I am feeling better than I have in a while.

I have had a good day. Of course it started out with a bang. I have been turning the ringer off on my cell phone when I go to bed so that I can sleep in in the mornings. Although I work long hours, I usually don't have to be in until noon, so it's nice to sleep in. Last night I forgot to turn it off. I got seven phone calls this morning before 10 a.m. I didn't take any of them. I rolled over and pretended the phone wasn't ringing. They were all from people that I would love to talk to, just not at 8:30 in the morning. On top of that, all of my friends know that they can call me as late as they want in the evening, but to never call me early in the morning. Especially my best friend M.M. who called first today.

I finally got out of bed at 11:00 and headed off to work. It was an easy day although one of my crew decided she was too sick to work and caused me some serious headaches. She ended up being fine, blaming her illness on "that time of the month" and how can I argue with that. It might help though if she weren't so damn crazy anyway.

I finished up work at 11:00 p.m and headed over to school to drink beer with my good friend T.O. He's got a big project due on Monday so I watched him work, proofed several drawings he was working on, and drank a couple of beers. I miss being at school a lot. It's nice in graduate school because you aren't taking "general studies" courses. All of your classes are in subjects that interest you. I also miss the people. The offices were buzzing with people tonight. There were at least 10 or so people around working on projects of different sorts. I of course wandered around annoying them as much, I mean as little as possible.

2:00 a.m. was my curfew so I just got home a little while ago. I am about to brush my teeth and go to bed. I feel like I am rambling and perhaps I am, but I wanted to share my great day with you and let you know what was going on. I don't have to be at work until 2 p.m. tomorrow so the ringer's already off on my phone and I plan on sleeping until noon. Yay, me.

I'm looking for inspiration tonight. I have a couple of posts that I want to do but they'll take a while to write and it's 1:15 a.m. and I don't think I'm awake enough to write them. And I have nothing brief to say. I could whine about my job (I have six more days left). I could whine about the annoying intern who still thinks she's in charge. I could whine about how much it's going to cost to move my stuff from San Diego to NYC. I could whine about being fat. I could whine about being broke. I could whine about my rental car. I could whine about not being in bed.

In truth I could whine about a lot of things. But in fact I don't want to. I don't like being that person. There's a lot that's not right in my life. Things I wished were different, that I could change. But in fact I have an okay existence. I have great friends who take care of me. I have enough money in the bank to pay my rent for the next several months. I have three college degrees so surely someone will give me a job. In just two weeks I'll be back home in NYC and this crappy job will be behind me. Although the job has sucked it brought me to San Diego where I have been able to visit with many close friends. Although I am overweight, I am healthy and have no serious health problems. (knock on wood) For all of my family's craziness they love me and care about me.

My point -- Life is okay. So for tonight I am going to appreciate it's okayness and celebrate that fact. Who knows tomorrow I'll be back to ungrateful, bitchy Maddog. But today I am feeling gratitude. I'll end the day with this gratitude and be thankful for all the good that I have in my life.

Recently I turned off word verification for my commentors because I had decided since I wasn't getting that many hits did I really have to worry about spam comments. The word verification is especially annoying because it's soooo many letters. I also know that my computer likes to help me fill in the blank which means I have to submit the form a couple of time before it goes through. I thought if I did this perhaps more people would leave comments.

And then today I get a comment letting me know that although the reader didn't find what they were looking for in my blog, I could make extra money as a secret shopper. Guess I was wrong. I have turned the dreaded verification back on. I hope it doesn't annoy too many people.

I have spent most of my life not fitting in. It started as a kid in my own family. I was the "smart" one. I liked to read. I liked school. I always told my parents where I was going to be and I always came home when I was told to. I was referred to as a "sissy" and a "momma's boy" a lot as a kid. And this was by my family. My cousins didn't understand why I would want to do my homework. I have an aunt who is nine years older than me who gave me nothing but grief as a child. She constantly made fun of the way I walked telling me "I walked like a girl". To this day I don't like people walking behind me.

It wasn't much better at school. The teasing and remarks started in junior high school and continued through high school. I didn't live in the right neighborhood and my parents didn't have the right jobs. We didn't have a telephone until I was in the sixth grade. We rented our house, and I didn't get my own bedroom. It also didn't help that I wasn't good at sports. I was picked last a lot and if not last very much toward the bottom of the pool. I was teased for being in the drama club and it was very much assumed that I was gay.

It got better in college, but not a lot. I went to a small conservative liberal arts school in Kentucky, as most of them are. I wasn't religious enough so I heard about that. Once again, I didn't have the right income so I heard about that. It was also the time that I started gaining weight for the first time and my fraternity brothers were relentless about that. It's when I learned to sneak food because I got so tired of everything I ate being noticed. It was easier to have a small portion and then go out later and get something substantial. I was a theatre major so once again I was given crap about not having a real major and it was very much assumed that I was gay.

After college things were better. I found that I surrounded myself with people who were like me. My jobs right after college were in restaurants where most of the staff was gay. I came out of the closet. I learned to stand up for myself, laugh at myself and accept myself. I did more growing up in the two years after college than I had my entire life.

Since then I have rarely been in situations where people didn't like me or teased me. I am sure it has a lot to do with how I present myself and how I respond to them. I also learned that if you can laugh at yourself most of the time people realize that it has no power. I have also found that since college I fit in much better. I have been one of the gang. Someone people want to hang out with. I have created my own groups of people that other people want to be a part of. And I try my hardest not to be exclusionary. If you want to play you are more than welcome.

And it's been that way for a while. At least until I got to San Diego to do this job. Suddenly I am not one of the gang. In fact I am hardly acknowledged at all. And I am definitely excluded from playing. I realized this about a week ago. I realized that I was being told I was done at the dinner break ahead of the rest of the team. At first I thought they were being nice. I would then ask what the first assistant S.T. was doing for dinner and I was always told he was staying to work through dinner. I believed him. Until the night I was waiting to go to dinner with some friends of mine. Seems he and A.Z. were waiting until I left to go have dinner alone. Once I was discovered this I became very aware of it. Without being told it was made very clear that I was not invited to join them at lunch or dinner.

Tonight was S.T.'s last night in town. He's the first assistant and he's flying to NYC tomorrow to do another project. In hushed whispers I discovered that everyone else on the team was getting together for drinks tonight after work. Everyone but me. I was not invited. I wasn't even told about it. If it hadn't been for being at the right place (wrong place) at the right time I wouldn't have even known about it.

The point to tonight's post. It hurts just as much as a 41 year old as it did as a kid to be left out. I can intellectually know that I wouldn't want to be there anyway. And chances are I would have said I was going home. But to be openly excluded like that doesn't feel good. It makes me feel less than as a human being. It makes me feel like shit to put it bluntly. And I don't like it. In truth I don't really like these people much. But that's not the point. I feel like it's third grade again and I didn't get invited to the birthday party. It makes me angry and when I get angry I shut down and I still have a weeks worth of work to do that I can't do shut down.

In a different time and place I would have made a point to say something and let them know how angry I am. But I won't give them the pleasure. Besides in the end it really isn't that important now is it? I'll go back to NYC and I will resume my life there and I won't think about these people. And if I do I won't remember them for their talent, or their work ethic, or their abilities. I'll remember them for being childish asses that don't deserve the effort I have spent tonight writing this post.

Fuck 'em.

It's been one of those days. I have been sleepy since I dragged my butt out of bed at 1:30 this afternoon. Before you get excited about being in bed so long, I have to admit that I didn't get to bed until almost 4:30, it was my day off and with the hours I have been working I deserved it. When I finally got up I had a list of things to do today. I think I did three of them. I had to go to the bank, get gas and go back to the Stolen Cars Are Us car rental place and renew my rental. I finished this up around 4:00 and I was exhausted. I got back to my friend T.M's house around 4:30 and started reading my daily blogs. I was about a third of the way through them and said enough is enough. The next thing I know it's 6:30 and I have been asleep for more than an hour.

I got up just as T.M. was getting home. I went downstairs and actually saw him face to face. I have stayed at his house now for over a month and I think it's been well over a week since we saw each other. Our schedules are completely different. I'm asleep when he leaves for work. He's asleep when I get home from work. He knows whether I am here or not by my sandals at the bottom of the stairs. Anyway, T.M and I played catch up and then met our friend A.C. for dinner at The Green Tomato. The food was great, the service was great and we had a good time teasing each other all through dinner. Of course for me the best part was the check because A.C. and T.M were buying. We finished up dinner and T.M and I returned home.

It's now 10:45 and I plan on being in bed in another 15 minutes. I am still exhausted. I have no idea why I am so tired but I am not going to fight it. I figure that if I get to bed by 11:00 then I'll be able to get between 8 and 9 hours of sleep before work tomorrow. By the way I have only 9 more days of the crappy job in San Diego. I am counting the moments until it's over. I'll keep you posted as to how the last few days go. Everyone have a great Tuesday. I'll see you tomorrow.

I went to happy hour last night. I mentioned a couple of days ago that when I was in grad school I started hosting happy hour in my office on Friday afternoons. Our offices were shared space but quite large and easily accommodated hosting a few people for drinks at the end of the week.

A lot of planning went into the first week. I wanted the gathering to be more like a bar and less like a frat party so I took steps to make that the case. I bought several types of beer and there was no Budweiser in the can. I bought name brand alcohol. If you want a gin and tonic do you really want Kroger brand gin or do you want Bombay Sapphire? Also there were no plastic cups. I hit every thrift store in San Diego and bought a huge collection of "drink" glasses. Of course they didn't all match but there was a fun assortment. I bought an ice bucket to keep the ice in. I bought a drink shaker and cork screw. I got little umbrellas to put in the drinks. And straws to stir them with. Once I had decided to do this I went all out to make it a true event.

Some of the initial ideas didn't work but they evolved with time. I originally had a donation system. Make a donation get a drink. Or bring a bottle of what you wanted to drink and I would provide the mixers. This didn't work so well. No one brought alcohol so it was up to me to provide it. And then there were the people who donated two bucks and drank all night. At the end of the first quarter I was losing money.

Eventually I went to a pay system. I'll provide all the food and drink, you provide the money. I started charging two dollars a drink. It didn't matter what you wanted. You could get it for two dollars. This seemed to work okay and surprisingly no one complained about being charged after basically drinking for free before. My favorites though were the people who assumed I was making money off the endeavor. Let's just say at two bucks a drink there is almost no way to break even. I made money on the beer but lost it on the hard stuff. And the food was free. I was typically in the hole somewhere around $150. Sometimes more, sometimes less. It was all based on how many people showed up and what they were drinking that week.

The nicest part of happy hour was that people did show up. By 5:00 my office and the seating area outside my office would be packed. There were sometimes as many as 30 or 40 people there. Of course there were also weeks where only 10 people showed. It was all based on our schedules, how busy we were, if we had money and how tired we were. After particularly stressful weeks we always did better.

I was known for happy hour. I was a fixture now in the department. Everyone loved that I had created this little party every Friday afternoon. We spent many Friday afternoons laughing, arguing, yelling and teasing. For 3 or 4 hours we were all a family. Practically every picture taken while I was in grad school shows me sitting behind my desk, and it's covered with booze. There is a slide show that's presented at graduation and the first photo of me was in that pose. Smile on my face, serving a drink or drinking a Corona. In fact, at graduation each of the graduating students when presented gets to come to the podium and make a speech. Think Oscar's without the fancy gowns. When my name was called, I had my two friends A.N. and T.O. hand out beers to all of my graduating classmates. Then in my speech I toasted them, our professors and all of the people that were special to them and to me.

In case you can't tell I took happy hour very seriously. It was something that I created and it had a reputation that I wanted to maintain. I remember my last one very well. It was a big deal. I sent out an email invite to the entire department and put up posters to come celebrate/share in my last happy hour. It was one of the most attended events since I had been doing it.

So when I left I was worried about who would carry on the tradition. I was nervous. What if it just went away. What if no one cared for it the way I had. I was assured by T.O. that it was in good hands. He would run it with the help of A.N. and M.W. And so I left.

So when I got to the office on Friday I had high hopes that my "baby" was being taken care of. Boy have they ever let me down. There was a nice crowd there, not huge but okay. I walked into the office with a big grin on my face and asked for a beer from T.O. the bartender. His reply, "We don't have any. Well there might be one left." it was 5:15. If you were going to run out of beer in the first 45 minutes there would have to be a million people there. And if you did, then send someone to get more. It also turned out that there was no ice, no gin, no Maker's, they were using plastic cups and were serving organic chips with some sort of gross looking dip. I was annoyed and let down. I was told by A.N. that they'll drink what we have and like it or they can go elsewhere.

These people don't understand. You don't do happy hour because you have to. You do it because it's fun and people like it. It should be something you enjoy doing or you shouldn't do it. It shouldn't feel like work. It should make you happy to be around other people and watch them having a good time. So I got a bourbon and diet coke and I sat there and tried not to mind what they had done to my creation. At one point T.O. said to me that I looked angry. I passed it off as being tired from working too much but I think he knew. But I couldn't say anything. My time had passed. I was no longer the fixture. It was no longer my "baby" to protect. I was moving on knowing that this little event wouldn't last too much longer. It took too much work and too much effort for those that weren't committed to the idea.