March 14th, 2011

Paul Neyron rose 2

real life Monday

Got a couple loads of laundry done -- my first time doing laundry at the apartment building.  R.A.'s cousin E.M. came to take her to a doctor's appointment.  We spoke a bit, and he said he'd take care of and/or look into some of the things I was concerned about, and was able to solve some right away, or tell me what the story was.  I felt better talking to someone reliable and functional.

Tonight is cupcake decorating night at the GLBT organization meeting at [university].  I called S., but he never answered his phone.  I've sort of forgiven him for not getting back to me about helping me move, since he was on spring break, but he's still skating dangerously close to being fired as my secret love child again.  The first time I fired him was when I didn't hear from him all summer, especially after I tried to tell him that I'd broken my ankle.  I took him back that time after he did a really good presentation on GLBT health issues. (  I was very proud.

I called the GLBT organization office and spoke to V., the vice president of the group.  I said I didn't want to be "that creepy old lady who comes to all the meetings."  She said it was quite all right if I came to cupcake decorating night.  H., unlike S., answered her phone and said she was going to be there.  I'll go to say hi to her.  If I get to bitch out S., that will be a bonus.

More later about how cupcake night went.  I wonder if there will be a prize for queerest cupcake this time, as there was last time.  One of the students made a cupcake with a frosting rainbow on it that time.  Jordan said the world would be a better place if there were more awards for queerest cupcakes. 

Later: It was a good night with the students.  I got to the GLBT organization office a little after 4 p.m., and several students were there.  S. was inhaling pizza.  He thought about where I could sit, since the seats in there were occupied either by students or stuff, and stood up so I could sit down on one of the comfortable seats.  I said I was too old and fat and crippled to get off the floor once I sat down on it.  I told the story of sitting on the floor when I came late to the meeting about employment, and how I fell back on my ass when I tried to get off the floor.  I had to ask A. -- or was it D.? -- to give me a hand up.  S. had seen me using the cane since I was able to drive and started to get to [local university] to see the students again.  Actually, he saw me when I was still in the walking cast.

I said I was worried about being seen as that creepy old lady, and V. said she'd say, "No, that's Emilie.  She's very cool."  S. said he'd like to hear someone say that, so he could snap at them.  Snap as in tell off, he meant.  Even if he doesn't answer his phone, S. really is a good secret love child.  He said he hadn't gotten back to me over spring break weekend, because he'd spent the week in Philadelphia with a group of new friends.  I gathered that these were young gay new friends.

I asked A. if he'd been the one who got the queerest cupcake award last semester.  He said, "I think I won for the gayest cupcake.  Mine had a rainbow flag on it."

"No, it was for the queerest cupcake.  I journaled about it."  I told S. what Jordan had said.  He knows who Jordan is, that I work for her and that she wrote Channeling Morpheus.  I'm sure that when Sweet Oblivion comes out in paperback, he'll enjoy reading about the further adventures of Michael and Wild Bill.  I think he could identify with Michael in some ways, as far as being an intelligent young man with a talent for getting into trouble.

Apparently Jordan and I and other readers of my LJ were much more impressed by the award than A. himself was.  This semester he just made a Pac-Man cupcake.  Another student did one with a rainbow design, and I think got most spirited cupcake.  H. put a little of everything on hers -- a bit of every type of frosting, and every variety of sprinkles.  She won for most explosion-y cupcake.  That award was so suited to H.  She said she was very happy that I was coming to her graduation party, that it would be lots of fun.  "It's basically going to be a catered jam session," she said.  Her parents are musicians.

Before and all during the meeting, S. caught me up on his adventures.  I was mostly falling over laughing.  He told a few stories about going to the Bike Stop.  "I have to have a few drinks first," he said.

"Is there a back room there?" I asked.

"There's a basement."  My eyes widened.

"I wanted to go see it when I was in college," I said.  "A couple of my friends who were pretty uptight, T. and C., put on their leather jackets and went in, and came out terrified."

"Oh, the people there are really nice," S. said.  "They're friendly."

I asked, "But what do you wear?"

"Tight jeans, a button-down shirt.  A sweater vest sometimes."  I couldn't believe it.  "It's a dump," he said.  "Back in the day you would have called it a dive.  Instead of urinals, there's a trough.  You pee into a trough.  That takes me back to Boy Scouts."  I doubled over laughing.  Only S.

I told S. about R.A.'s boyfriend M. calling someone a faggot, and how I immediately said that that was rude.  R. was answering back, "He's not a faggot."  I told her not to call someone that, that it wasn't nice.  She changed her terminology a bit.  "He dated my mom, and then he turned gay."

"It got worse," S. concluded.  Actually, I thought R. was trying to be more polite, that she was getting the idea that I was very determinedly trying to get across about not using that word.  I'm certainly ready and willing to reinforce it if she forgets that I don't want to hear her or M. saying that.  I don't know if M. will change his ways, but I have hope R. is educable.  S. didn't seem upset to hear about it, nor surprised to hear that I strongly objected to them using the word.  I'm not usually one for confrontation, but I had to take a stand right away on that, and let them know that kind of language was not okay.

I told S. how filthy the apartment was, and he said that he could clean it.  I said I'd pay him.  I may have a clean apartment by this weekend.  I'm planning to do some work -- and make R. do some work -- on it before that, but if S. wants to earn enough money cleaning to go out partying over the weekend, I'm quite happy to pay for him to tackle some of it.  He told more stories about his friends, and ate his cupcake, which he didn't even take up to be judged.  He'd just frosted it pink and put purple sprinkles on it.  S. said that he wasn't as much into that kind of activities, that he was more into the serious activities.  I had a chocolate cupcake with a thick layer of chocolate frosting on it, because sometimes you just need chocolate.

I asked S. about going to dinner, and he said he was going to hit the gym.  "It's quiet there around 5:30," he said.  "I've been working on my abs."  He asked, "Do you think I should start with the treadmill or the elliptical when I get to the gym?"

I have absolutely no idea what an elliptical is.  "Whichever one you feel like," I said.  He took off for the gym.  I asked H. if she wanted to go to dinner.  "Italian food, Chinese food -- do you want to go to [Indian restaurant in borough]?"

"I've been craving food from that Chinese buffet," H. said.  Everyone I've taken there likes it.  I said I'd just eaten there a couple of days ago, but that I was fine with eating there again.  H caught me up on her spring break.  "I spent the week in a basement," she said.  "It was a good week."  I just started laughing.  I could only imagine.  "It was a very nice basement, with a bar and everything you could want," she explained.  It was so typical of H.  "It was the most relaxing spring break."  Somewhere during my laughter, I said that I was glad she'd had a good time.

So I spent a little over an hour each catching up with two of my young (and very entertaining) friends.  It was a welcome return to my reality.  It's so good to know that they return my affection for them.  H. said she also would have snapped at anyone who wondered who "the creepy old lady" was.  "No one's said anything like that," she reassured me.  I guess it was just in my head, but I don't want to intrude on so many of the meetings.  I go to say hi to S., then I'm still catching up with him when the meeting begins, as he immediately starts to tell me about what's going on with him as soon as I sit down next to him, and I get totally caught up in the narrative.

I dropped H. off at [university] and stopped in briefly at my parents' house.  My dad had just lost his job.  At 5 p.m., he said, they told him that he was finished there, and brought down his things in boxes.  He'd been talking about retiring, but it was a shock to hear that he'd lost the job.  Dad said he'd had several talks with the bosses about how he should be making more sales.  People call with questions about their annuities, and the employees are supposed to help them and sell more annuities to them.  Dad was just fine about helping them, but he wasn't selling more annuities, and he was spending more time per call talking to the callers than he was supposed to.  If it had been purely a customer service job -- and it was advertised as being mostly a customer service job -- he would have been a star employee.

Mom was trying to figure out what to do, considering the options.  Dad is sixty-five, so he can get Social Security.  I got other bad news about someone I see regularly breaking her hip.  I'll have to go visit her in the hospital.  It was my sister-in-law K.'s birthday, as Mom reminded me, so I called her to wish her a happy birthday.  All in all, it was an eventful day.