neyronrose (neyronrose) wrote,
neyronrose
neyronrose

Saturday real life

I'm not sure when I finally got to sleep Friday night/Saturday morning, but it must have been after three-thirty.  When the Chrolli marathon ended, some of us stayed up to chat for a couple more hours.  Mom started trying to wake me at nine-thirty or ten, but I just made little protesting moaning noises.  I don't know how she hasn't realized by then that that's a "No."  My brother J. came around ten-thirty.  I managed to say hello before going back to sleep.  He'd promised last time we'd spoken to stay until after I woke up, which I did at noon.  He had come to help Dad with various outside chores like fixing the gutters.

We had lunch, and then J. showed me the book for his "Social Work with Gay and Lesbian Clients" course.  I skimmed through it, and read bits of the chapter on working with bisexual clients.  There was a part with the topic of substance abuse in the chapters about gay men.  Crystal meth was specifically selected out for its own several paragraphs of mention of it as a very popular drug, the reasons for its popularity, and a little about counseling clients with an addiction to that drug.  What I read in general of the summaries of various issues seemed reasonable enough.  He said that I could borrow the book when his class was done.

J. had a brainstorm about what he wanted to do his cultural immersion assignment on.  He'd seen many AA meetings -- I suppose with the mental hospital patients? -- and wanted to go to a specifically gay-friendly one.  The professor shot that idea down.  I could see why there would be privacy issues there.  J. wasn't sounding like he'd want to come up to meet students from the GLBT organization of [local university].  I was disappointed, but he said he'd probably rather do something fast in Baltimore than drive up to the Philadelphia suburbs to have his cultural immersion.  He'd gotten a lot of leads of organizations and activities in the Baltimore area.

He said he was the only straight male in the class.  Social work has mostly women in the classes, anyway.  The professor outed himself in the first class, as did many of the lesbians in the part of the class when you introduce yourself.  J. said that the only other male student didn't say he was gay, but that he was flaming.  "He set my gaydar off," J. told me.  He said that even the women who didn't specifically out themselves were butch and had short hair.  He's kind of going by stereotypes, but I don't see why the class wouldn't be popular with lesbian social-workers-to-be.  He's known as the male mental health aide the girls trust on the girls' trauma unit of the mental hospital, so he'll probably find somewhat of a similar role in the class.  From what I've seen, college-age lesbians don't tend to be as angry now as the students of a generation or two ago were.  We'll see what ignorant things he says in the class, or confesses to saying.  I'm sure the professor and the other students will correct him as needed, but he can probably just think generally about what I would or wouldn't want to hear.

I hadn't realized he hadn't yet seen my cast.  We'd talked on the phone so many times over the last few weeks, somehow I thought I'd seen him since I'd broken my ankle.  I guess we were last down there in June or the earlier part of July.  I'd certainly told him all about it.

I went upstairs to take my shower, since there's more time for that on a weekend.  It's still lovely to be able to really wash my hair.  I'm very much immobilized with the leg with the cast hanging out of the tub, but I can balance enough on the shower stool to wash my good leg and the rest of me.  I still managed to get myself up to a standing position by pushing up with my arms off the edge of the tub, though I hadn't officially done exercises in a couple of days.  I figured all that walking with the walker on Thursday had given me a fair amount of exercise.  I've done one round of exercises so far today.  My arms seem to keep getting stronger and stronger.  I don't think I really had to stop to rest in pulling myself up the stairs.

I had Golden Jasmine tea with lunch.  I think I've tried nearly all the kinds of flowering tea there are from that company, with only a couple left I haven't tasted yet.  I'd gotten more of some of the kinds I liked very much.  The company included their entire product list with the shipment, plus throwing in an apricot granola bar and a coupon for ten percent off my next purchase.  I think I'm good for quite a while as far as flowering tea goes.  The Golden Jasmine was good.  It's a black tea, with the flower ball opening up to release a string of jasmine blossoms, so it was pretty, too.

I have a few things to edit and proof, and I'll rewatch the soap operas of this past week.  I don't especially have any other plans for the day.

A. and I talked -- what else -- Chrolli, and he sent me some pictures from the Gays of Our Lives event.  He had some pictures of himself with Jo, and him in a Chrolli sandwich.  I asked for those, and for the pictures of Thore right after I'd given him a glowstick.  I'm not in the picture, but I know the timing of it.  Good times.
 

Tags: family, rambling
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