Skip to content

Beauty is nothing new

In this day we are obsessed with all that is beautiful. The glowing tube of electrons project beauty so deep into our minds that all else is little more than a passing glimpse. Our obsession is so entrenched that we no longer can see the inner beauty without first passing judgment on what lies at the surface.

– On the road

Near midnight and tomorrow seems far away

I have been doing a lot of thinking. A lot of soul searching. I write thoughts in my head for later fodder. Tonight this is one skimmed from a dream a few days ago.

My story will not be written in the stars
It will be written in my scars
Upon physical inspection
They are not seen with the naked eye.
I am not so arrogant as to think the stars
Hold my story in their ancient grasp
Here, on my wrist, is raised skin from
An accident in high school chemistry
The event changed my life
There are burn marks on my face from that day too
They have faded with time.
This one is from when I jumped off the porch
Onto a broken coke bottle
It was my first set of stitches
Beneath my skin a whole other story unfolds
In my mind I am still the small child
That bore the brunt of a belt-wielding father
Those welts have long since faded
But not the memory of my eight year old self
Dodging as the leather whizzed through the air
In a resounding thwack.
The bite mark on my back has smoothed out
From the bashing I took at the hands of boys bigger than me
High school boys that were older
And I have no reasoning for the attack
Almost thirty years later.
But it has been words that left the deepest cut
Such as, “you are ugly”
“You will never amount to anything”
These serve as a warning to parent
You may forget what you say in anger
To your children
But they never will.
Like a patchwork quilt
Laid deep in my mind
The collection of scars
Are the tapestry that tell my story
The stars are inconsequential
I wrap myself in a blanket not of my own making
But one handed down through the years
Generations before me have woven this story

– On the road

 

The power of rejection

I saw him nearby in the bar. My latest type. Hipster. Fun shirt stretched across ample pecs and a brownish-red beard. My married friend said hi and they chatted. I was talking to a host of other folks and finally made my way to say hello. I introduced myself.
I’m Daniel.
He cocked his head back and spoke with a hint of Spanish accent.
I am Daniel too.
We chatted aimlessly. Asking questions of one another. Where are you from? Are you here for the holiday weekend? Who are you here with?
He pulled me to the bar for a drink and made fun of its pink hue.
It’s not masculine, he said.
I had the bartender splash some grenadine for a redder color.
We chatted some more.
Somehow we became separated after going to the bathroom. The friend who had been speaking with him originally kept insinuating himself back into the conversation even after we’d walked off to grab a drink. We went to the restroom and my friend followed.
Daniel was speaking to other folks when I came out of the bathroom.
My friends wanted to go to dinner.
I said that we were leaving. He barely acknowledged me leaving.
Before dinner I was angry by the friend who kept coming between he and I. I was pissed that someone who has a lover and a child would stop someone else, block a single guy from hanging with this beauty.
He told me later he intentionally cock block me.
I lamented to my best buddy that I was sick of being alone. I was pissed at our friend for behaving in such a way. I was sick of looking at the couples walking by. Fat and ugly couples. Skinny or muscular couples holding hands. When is it my time? It’s been ten years since I’ve dated. Being in DC has been a nightmare. I haven’t dated and have rarely hooked up. The guys that have come over, for the most part, haven’t been my standard hottie. They’ve been fat and while not ugly they were sometimes ugly adjacent.
I’m a snob. Or was. I mean I am still attractive. Granted age has dulled the pink in my cheeks and lips. Some grey hairs have trickled in and started heading south. At least they aren’t below the waist line yet. Granted it’s all trimmed there so who knows?
And yes I have wrinkles. What a horrible word. Laugh lines. That’s better. I can deal with that. It’s character. Not old man-like.
So at dinner I am already mad and have to sit next to the clock blocker.
Then one of the friends I drove to the beach with decided to split the check six ways. I am pissed because I had ordered what was in my budget. Not to split the fucking bill and pay for shit I cannot afford.
After dinner they want to go back out. I join them looking for Daniel.
He’s back at the bar I left him at.
We talk again and grab another drink. He pays again.
We talk and he flirts with other folks and my friend tries to cock block again. I give Daniel my number. Key it into his phone. I send myself a message and we leave. The message doesn’t come through and I wonder if maybe I keyed the wrong number in because I am drunk.
We go back to the house and I end up falling asleep. So did my housemates.
The next day is Monday and we are at the beach. Every bearded boy is Daniel. I chat with everyone we are sitting with. My cock blocking friend is playing with his kid. I feign interest.
We head back to the house and my friends prepare to go out. They leave and I am relaxing at the house. They text me and tell me he’s at the bar. I head to the bar.
I catch him and find out my number was wrong. Sure enough my drunk ass keyed it in wrong.
We leave and I feel better when we head out to dinner.
Daniel and I text a couple of times over the next day or so. We left for the city that night and I am exhausted. My friends never leave at a decent time. I don’t get home until 2 am and my car breaks down in my yard. I took the next day off and should have gotten my car towed but I am so over the goddamned car and cock blocking friends.
I realized that if Daniel wanted me we would have had sex together while at the beach.

I am defeated. He and I text all week while he’s back in Mexico and we flirt. I flirt. He feigns ignorance.
I am defeated. I’ve invited him to an event I am cohosting and he barely pays me attention.
He wasn’t drinking which surprised me because he had been drinking almost every time I’ve texted with him over the last week.
I leave him to the vultures. The older men in the group who fawn over him.
I am defeated because I know the attraction is one sided. I have felt this before but usually bounce back but not this time.
This, combined with my hatred of DC and it’s nasty people makes me filled with rage and depression.
I finally ask him out but he says he just wants to be friends. I tell him that isn’t in the cards for us. Perhaps it’s silly to give up so easily. But I am too old to play any game but ‘beat the clock’

– Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

 

Union station and Senator Dodd

I am sitting in the Columbus Room at Union Station in DC waiting for Senator Dodd’s arrival. For those outside the world or finance and regulation, he is one of the authors of the Dodd-Frank Act. One of the most broadly reaching pieces of financial regulation. The room is large and open. White walls are topped with a fresco ceiling, while the windows near the ceiling are lined with painted frescos. The rich opulence reminds me of the wealth that banks have amassed before and after the financial crisis.
 
 
 – On the road

Location:Massachusetts Ave NE,Washington,United States

Zombies attacked me in my sleep

I woke up with an earache that is now in my throat and throughout the left side of my face. I feel like a zombie. Arg.

Of course sinus meds helped with that freshly zombie-bitten feeling.

Crawling back in bed.

– Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Gonna play the lottery

On the way to work this morning, I managed to have nothing but green lights. Now that may not seem so far fetched but from my house to the metro is about three miles. There are about seven lights and all were green this morning. When I got near the Springfield mall, I just knew that run was over because those lights are what I call social security lights – they are red so long you may have to have your social security checks mailed to you there.

So, I decided today must be my day to play the lottery. If there was ever an indication that it’s my lucky day, a street full of green lights is a great sign!

– Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Farmers market- late post

I wrote this weeks ago and forgot to post!

Checking out the street / farmers market in DuPont Circe because Luis is volunteering. Sitting at a cafe having brunch and I realized that it takes balls to drive in this area. Especially trying to park.

The day is overcast and moving toward sunny after the threat of rain dissipated. Here I am watching the people. Beautiful and fascinating. Some stir my lust while others stir my wonderment. I am looking for reasons to like DC. Today is one of them.

This kid was amazing on the violin.

– Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Location:New Hampshire Ave NW,Washington,United States

%d bloggers like this: