June 2019

Pre-Pride

Spending the weekend here in Seattle has reminded me just how much I’ve missed this place. It’s loud, dirty, there’s a lot of homeless people, and it’s outrageously expensive to live here. That being said, I think I’m going to move back. 50 Is staring me down – 43 days and counting. I’m single, my house will be on the market sometime shortly, and I have nothing tying me down. It’s time for a new adventure.

My earliest memories are of my folks taking me to the Pike Place Market. Back in the ’90s it was a weekly tradition. Mom, Dad and I would come down Saturday mornings and go to a restaurant called Saigon Over the Counter. It’s gone now, but I think we had eaten there well over 200 times over the course of 20 years.

I got up at dawn again this morning. I like the Starbucks Reserve right down the street, but felt like taking a walk, and sure enough, I found myself right back at my favorite Seattle attraction, the Pike Place Market.

Walking around the Market early in the morning is so relaxing. There’s no crowds, but there’s still a buzz of anticipation. I walked back up to First Hill via Pike and stopped at Westlake Center where things are getting set up for today’s Pride parade, and there were already lots of people grabbing their spots. I think we’ll meander down there in a couple of hours before heading up to the Hill for the Cuff Block Party. Life is pretty good. 😉

Cruising

I would be lying if I said the last couple of months haven’t been difficult. I’ve had to step outside of my comfort zone and place myself in situations I would normally shy away from; mainly, socializing. To most people I come across as an extrovert, but I’m really just the opposite. Stating that, I am in a much happier place today than I’ve been in years. I’m reconnecting with myself, taking the time to be selfish and focus on my needs first, without compromise, and putting myself first. I haven’t done that in a VERY long time.

My dear friend, Leo, whose history with his own marriage has many similarities to mine, has been one of my greatest supporters. He was the one I called in the middle of the night when I felt hopeless, and he was also there to help me forge my new path. That’s not to say I haven’t had a lot of friends step up to the plate and be there for me – too many to name, but they know how much their support has meant to me. I rounded that bend in my life, and I’m finding real happiness again.

This has been the first time I’ve celebrated Pride weekend in 17 years. Pride for me isn’t about being a gay man; it’s about being a 13-year old boy growing up in Winthrop, Washington, knowing he was gay and being terrified his parents would find out, or that his social peers would find out. I had the good fortune of moving to Seattle when I was 14, but even in a larger school in a metropolitan area, I was always so guarded about my true self, and it wasn’t until I was 18 that I finally told my girlfriend at the time that I was gay.

Fast forward 31 years and I was able to spend today being proud of who I am, what I have to offer, and accepting of the fact that I am good enough. HAPPY PRIDE!

With a Little Help from My Friends

Day one in Seattle. I left Leo sleeping and got up at 6:30 AM and walked down the block to Starbucks Reserve on Pine & Minor.

This is fast becoming one of my favorite haunts and it’s a good place to people watch. I got here right before the mad rush at 8:00 AM and hung out for about an hour. My friend Mark came down and joined me for a bit.

The Red Heart Crumpled in the Side

I slept a good 14 hours last night and am feeling on the mend; however, this fucking cough is becoming a serious drag.

I knew today was going to a long day, but I didn’t expect to be on the road over 7 hours. It was all good, though; I was able to stop in and see my folks for a couple of minutes and the drive to Seattle was pleasant, albeit there were a lot of rain squalls.

This was my new car’s first road trip, and I got to say, I am very impressed with the new Subarus. This Crosstrek is the nicest vehicle I’ve ever owned.

Even after a very long day, it was nice to get to see this guy again. Tomorrow we’re going to a bear brunch on the Hill followed by the Pride Cruise on Lake Union, then Diesel.

I’m going to get some sleep; it’s going to be a long weekend.

Not Today, Satan!

Sometimes I have wanted
to throw you off
like a heavy coat.
Sometimes I have said
you would not let me
breathe or move.
But now that I am free
to choose light clothes
or none at all
I feel the cold
and all the time I think
how warm it used to be.
Vicki Feaver “Coat”

Day 7 of being sick. Day 7 of not being able to go to the gym. Day 7 of feeling restless. Day 7 of being generally miserable.

My voice is returning, albeit gravelly, perhaps even sultry, like Kim Carnes. I should belt out my own rendition of “Bette Davis Eyes.”

Everyone seems to be going to Seattle this weekend. It’s going to be an exciting four days. Tomorrow, I have to meet my dog-sitter, show her around, then it’s off to Seattle, which is only a three-hour drive from here, to pick-up a friend who works at Amazon Corporate, and then we’ll go out to a nice dinner. There’s a nice Thai restaurant in Pacific Place we may go to.

I have another friend who’s in Vegas for a little R&R and we’re making plans on going there together in September for a three-day weekend. The plane tickets are purchased and our room booked at the Delano. I can hardly wait.

Poetry has had a profound impact on me over the last couple of months. I was reading Alice Osborn’s blog and she described poetry as, “Poetry’s strength lies in its ability to shed a “sideways” light on the world, so the truth sneaks up on you. “

I find that I am drawn to certain authors; I have laid in bed late at night reading Anna Akhmatova’s “Requiem”. And recently, I discovered the writings of Edna St. Vincent Millay. Poetry encapsulates many of the feelings I’ve had and has shown that there’s nothing unique about the human condition – everyone of us has tempests and tribulations.

Two Sticks, Twine and a Little Perseverance

no
is a necessary magic
no
draws a circle around you
with chalk
and says
i have given enough
boundaries

There’s something intensely gratifying about wearing a garment you make yourself. Knitting a sweater can best be compared to a brief romance, 2-3 months in duration. There’s the excitement of finding that special pattern one wants to knit. Next is finding the right fiber. Should it be a fine virgin Merino wool? Perhaps, an alpaca/wool blend. Should the yarn be a solid, natural hue, or slightly varigated, or maybe even a tweed? When one considers the hundreds of hours they’ll invest in knitting this garment, these decisions will make the endeavor a joy, or an obligation.

I came across this pattern, Herringweave, and knew I was in love. I seldom ever knit anything for myself. I’ve knitted hats, scarves, socks, even sweaters for others, and I think it’s long overdue that I knit something just for me, and when I’m in Seattle this weekend, I’ll drop in on some of my favorite yarn stores, like Acorn Street Shop in Ravenna, to see if any DK weight yarn catches my eye.

Snotmeggedon – Day 6

… My head is bloody, but unbowed.
William Earnest Henley “Invictus”

I think one of my enemies has a voodoo doll of me and has been dunking it’s head in green goo.

Today is day 6 of having this cold from hell. I decided to risk being a pariah to my co-workers and come into work this morning, but after being here for half an hour I’m beginning to reconsider that choice. A good friend told me, “Hunter, you have six months of sick leave…duh.” I may follow her sage advice and call it a week.

Time stops for no man and this weekend is no exception. I plan on spending Friday-Monday in Seattle with a good friend and he’s already got my dance card so full and I have nothing to wear. 🙂 We’ve got a rooftop party Saturday morning, a boat cruise on Puget Sound in the afternoon, Diesel that evening, and the next morning is Pride, followed by the Cuff Block Party afterwards. I haven’t been to a Seattle Pride Parade since 2002 – that’s almost 50 gay years!

Leave it to me to order my gay bear t-shirt for Pride back in May and I got notice that it shipped yesterday and isn’t expected to arrive here in Moses Lake until this Saturday when I’ll already be gone. I wonder if I should go onto Amazon and order something queer-appropriate for the day or just go sans t-shirt. I’m pretty white and if it’s sunny I’ll crisp. I know my friend will be shirtless the entire time, but he’s got the body to pull it off. Me? I might frighten the children.

It’s good to be putting myself back out there. A lot of people from my past are coming back into the foreground, while a lot of people that were in me and my ex’s orbit are now moving to my periphery.

Hunter is a Sick Bear

I called in sick today. This cold has moved from my throat into my chest and sinuses and I’m one hurting unit today, but I still got up at 5:00 AM.

I should not have pushed myself so hard over the weekend; I think I may have overdone it and made myself sicker. Bed rest it is for me today…and possibly tomorrow.

Being sick and taking a day off isn’t all what it’s cracked up to be. I’m too sick to study, but very stir crazy so I decided to pick-up a sock I started knitting a couple weeks ago and start at it; I had only completed the ribbed cuff.

It’s slow work, but rewarding at the same time. Knitting has a rhythm that can entrance oneself and before you know it you’ve gone from the cuff to knitting the gusset heel.

This pattern is an oldie, called monkey. You can find the pattern on knitty.com, it’s free and here’s the link. Over the years, I’ve probably knitted 20 pairs of these socks. Sometimes it’s good to do something familiar.

I’m learning to find my joy again in the simple pleasures. Life goes on and I with it.

Feeling Under the Weather

Expecting to do lots of manual labor this weekend, of course I would come down with the mother of all colds on Friday and completely lose my voice all weekend long.

I tried to get as much of my belonging packed and moved to the garage, but after two days of effort, I was only able to get moved out of my office downstairs. I still haven’t packed up my kitchen belongings or cleared out my belonging in the guest bedroom closet, or in the attic, or at the storage unit. I had to stop about every 10 minutes to rest because I had no energy and ended up taking two naps along the way. Being sick sucks!

Mom and dad came over this afternoon to drop off my fur kids and dad helped me move some of the bigger items from downstairs to the garage.

Now I’m back down at my place in Moses Lake seriously contemplating calling in sick tomorrow so I can get some rest and let my body heal. I think the stress of everything that’s gone on the last couple of weeks has really compromised my immune system. I need to get away from this toxic environment and get my new life on track.

My friends have been absolutely amazing. I don’t know what I would have done without their support.

10 Years to the Day

It’s amazing what can happen over 10 years. This day back in 2009, I was in San Jose, CA, with my ex, Ryan, going to see Nine Inch Nails/Jane’s Addiction “Waving Goodbye” tour. Ryan had gotten us access backstage to the concert and we got to meet Trent Reznor and other members of NIN and we had one of the best times of our lives.

That was about a month before we broke up. Looking back, I can’t even remember why we broke up, but I do know that neither one of us was emotionally mature enough to do what was needed to repair our relationship. That was too bad because I believe he was my soulmate. After we broke up, I ended up rebounding with someone I should never have gotten together with and spent 10 years of my life with an individual who didn’t love me.

Fast forward to today. I spent all day packing my belongings in the house that my ex and I bought 5 years ago. I plan on getting the rest of my items packed tomorrow and I’ll get a moving truck in a couple of weeks to move my entire life out of the Methow Valley.

Overall, I feel good, albeit I have a cold; the first one I’ve had in almost three years. I met with the realtor my ex chose to list our house on July 1, and I’m hoping that we’ll be able to walk away from this fiasco with some money in our pockets.