Sometimes I see a hot guy who returns my stare and I think, "he might be fun to date. What would it be like to unbutton his shirt while he's kissing me? I'll bet there are muscles there underneath those clothes. He's probably a great top."
And then reality rears it's reality-like head, and I begin thinking of that same scenario within the setting of my temporal coordinates: 375 square-foot house crammed with stuff and desperately needing a paint job, piles of books and mail here and there, two ancient cats and the ubiquitous smell of catbox and the crunch of errant kitty litter underfoot. Woodkill for certain. Well, and if that isn't, then the single bed upon which whoopie is made here might be.
JB, a regular playpal, seemingly has no problem with it (but maybe he makes hilarious fun of me to his friends) but then again he's not the dating kind, merely the -with-benefits kind and so doesn't have to put up with cramped and catbox for more than a couple of hours every month or so when I host us for a purely carnal romp.
I realize that I've been relying on the physical reality of the place to self-edit and self-limit my dating life, to keep me from even attempting any kind of relationship. Who in their right mind would want this? I've never considered that I was ever in my right mind in the first place and so don't mind a bit. After all, I shat in a bucket for 11 years and built fires for warmth every day in the winter. But I'm coming to the realization that I'm kind of tired of being the recluse, the man-who-doesn't-have-people-over, he-who-has-no-parties.
Could it be that I'm maturing? Coming out of my shell at last? Or is it more likely that I'm merely fed up and perhaps a little lonely?
All I do know that I'm itching to have dinner parties again, despite feeling bad from the criticisms I inadvertently overheard from my guests or which were later related to me regarding some memorable meals here. Yes, it does take quite some doing to cook for 6 out of a kitchen equipped with merely two stove burners, no oven and two square feet of counter space. Sorry it took so long to prepare dinner boys, but I challenge you to do it so well yourselves with the facilities I have at my disposal; I was doing my best to be a good host and I was sort of hoping that actually looking at my kitchen would clue you in. Guess not. But since I've not been invited to your house for a home-cooked meal, I'll take your criticisms as specious and catty and say, "put up or shut up".
As my former partner said when several "good" friends decided for whatever reason not to show up for his amazing fortieth birthday feast (nor to call), "time to get new friends". New friends (and dear long-term ones), that is, who like me anyway and cheerfully overlook my shortcomings. I is what I is, and I lives where I lives. At the very least, there are a couple of friends to whom I owe a mountainous backlog of delicious home-cooked meals who don't mind my meager accommodations.
S, JD, you listening? :-)
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7 comments:
As far as I'm concerned you don't have any shortcomings. Your house is wonderful. As I have said before, I want it for my own little hideaway. You are a wonderful man with much to offer. And you will find exactly what it is that you want. I feel it in my bones.
If Chris doesn't call you tonight while he is at work, then you need to call him. He is a bit of the absentminded professor, so may not remember. And I will likely be asleep, you know me. I need to know what you are doing on the 24th of Feb.
Are you intentionally living simply, as in a tiny house as those touted by the small house society? Tumbleweeds or somesuch? Very brave if you are.
But one of the architects has some lovely (not quite as small as yours or tumbleweeds) designs for around 1000 square feet. I think I could do that.
I have way too much stuff. sigh. It is a burden in so many ways.
Hello friend of soul,
Glad that your trip to SF was such a smashing success & that you had a great time. Sounded like you were ready for a break!
Also had to laugh at your latest entry... because I'd recently been thinking the same thing about my place. (Talk about parallel universe.) To be honest, with my situation with Earl & his welfare being my main focus for some years, it's been a long, long time since I'd even thought about entertaining. However, knowing that it's highly likely that I'm going to someday meet you made me look around my space with a more critical eye. I saw pretty much what you described, (sans the kitties & litter box); bookshelves overflowing onto the floor, accumulated clutter crowding every space & a whole lot of stuff that stopped "growing corn" some time ago but evidently I think may one day sprout corn again. The one room I've managed to keep as my "oasis" has been my bedroom that I redecorated a few years ago. It has a bed, a rug & a TV in it & minimal stuff on the walls.
Now, what the heck. If I haven't managed to become Mr. Organization before I meet you someday & you see my place in its current state, I know that you won't mind any more than I would visiting you. So, for now at least, you've helped me find peace with my slovenly housekeeping:)
OneTree
Marthaberry, I do live simply. I used to live even more simply, if you can believe :-) It's nice to have 1)heat and 2)hot water and 3) indoor toilet at this house.
OneTree, you make me smile and laugh! I hope to be a wee bit less slovenly in my own housekeeping this year, but so far ... not so much luck ;-)
One of the beautiful men I hung out with this past weekend hasn't always been a man, and that discovery has made me think quite a bit about the importance of outward appearances versus what's really important. Was finding out about his gender transition important? Not at all as it happily turned out: he is an amazing man. Period. I'm in love with him, not his physical equipment.
People in love with me will be in love with me and not my housekeeping. As within, so without: I tend to forget that and end up projecting the judgments I pass on myself onto others. How selfish and assuming of me! :-)
I agree with you, my friend. People who really care for you care for YOU. All the exterior stuff is just, well, window dressing. When my little sister lived in New Jersey, one of her coworker girlfriends (a New Jersey native) shared some of her mother's dating advice. Her mother had told her to look at a man's shoes when considering dating him. If his shoes weren't worth at least $150, don't waste your time. (Me & my $19.99 tennis shoes wouldn't get very far in New Jersey! But then, if someone is so shallow as to judge me by my footwear, would //I// want to waste my time on THEM???)
Anyway, good for you in your realizations.
OneTree
If we lived closer, you would be a regular dinner guest! :)
I never have people over, although my apartment is quite nice; It's because I am slovenly about cleaning and the house is always a mess. I can really relate to this post.
Then there are the many times I am invited to someone's house and it's 10 times worse, or at least just as bad, and I wonder...why aren't they worried about what I will think? Maybe they've come to the happy realization that others have described here: That if someone wants YOU, they won't mind the mess. I wish I could come to that same realization! I just always end up feeling like a lazy shmuck.
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