You Know I Just Starve to Make You Proud

I’m not an especially superstitious man. I believe that our lives consist of ½ cup fate and ½ cup self-determination. Despite our efforts, we don’t necessarily know where we are headed or what lurks around the corner. In that regard, we need to have our shoulder and knee pads on for when something cracks us and knocks us to the ground….and it will, many times over.

This season of my life has been so vastly different than previous seasons, that it almost feels like an entirely different show altogether. And …….. I suppose it is. As I write this I will admit to feeling a tad superstitious in enumerating all the good, that it will somehow cast some voodoo magic shit on my orbit and my fate will be changed for the worse. On the other hand, when I’ve shared with you all the bad stuff, it never magically changed my fate for the better. Perhaps the converse will be true here as well. It’s just so different and I want it to stay this way, which I know…..it cannot. So here goes nothing.

My gratitude list: 

• I was selected, after 6 months and 8 interviews, for a dream job, which I accepted in January. I work on Park Avenue in Manfuckinghattan. I’m a Vice President. Dream. Job.

• My beautiful, thoughtful, energetic boyfriend is there beside me for all of our life experiences with a heart of gold and a smile that melts me. The others before him made him possible. I thank them for what they taught me and the gifts they force fed me.

• We are GOOD. Living in our gorgeous new apartment in Hell’s Kitchen.

• My spinal fusion has been successful and I am on a journey to get my body in a healthy, solid state. (Not there yet, but progress is finally here and I am here for that!!! I am working my ass off)

• Our dog, Charlie, fills a huge place in my soul and heart. I cuddle her and can’t believe what I did to deserve Her.

• My mom seems to be cancer free, after having gone through a horrid surgery this past year.

• We seem to be FINALLY finding our footing in NYC. Creating connections and living the best life we can. After struggling for two years, it seems we are on the right path in creating our tribe.

• Our extended Urban family are all happy and healthy…..with kids running around in every crevice.

And so much more. So. Much. More. All of this, I take stock of every day. And I honestly feel like I am living someone else’s life sometimes. But then I put myself in check, and know that I have worked so hard for this. I. Have. Worked. SO. HARD. Just like the rest of you. And I’ve been smacked to the ground so hard it took my breath away. And shattered my heart into a gazillion pieces. But like ALL of us, we get back up and find OUR way. It might take a year, it might take 5. It’s the journey, it’s never a destination…..it’s always the journey.

I’ve gone back and forth about this next part.

As many of you know, I have always had an online blog, detailing (sometimes in embarrassing ways) the twists and turns I’ve encountered. In recent time I’ve been absent because I just couldn’t figure out what I felt was…….necessary content.

But lately I’ve come to the place that I realize what the value might be. I’ve always used this place as a platform to express. Sometimes it’s just to express my pain, other times to express my confusion. Either way, I know some people view it with a critical eye, while others absolutely LOVE my openness and vulnerability.

It’s with this vulnerability I’ve decided, after much debate, to talk about something I’ve kept rather secret.

A few months ago I was diagnosed with a genetic kidney disease that is incurable. The End Game with this disease is Kidney failure, dialysis and the need for kidney transplant. Present day, I am fine. The progression and speed is an unknown variable as it differs for each person, however thru the work of an amazing nephrologist, I am told that my unique disease will push me towards failure sometime in my late 70’s, early 80’s.

Since the diagnosis (Polycystic Kidney Disease PKD)  I have bounced between despair and optimism. When in despair I cry, dig deep into feelings of hopelessness and self-pity. In optimism I focus on my resiliency and gratitude that things are not worse than they are. I am able to be present and focused on one step at a time. And, as always, I know that so many people out there are battling bigger monsters than this. I NEVER lose sight of that.

However, it’s tricky. The mind is so brilliant in its Mechanisms and takes me down dark corridors that I had never noticed before. When I think about my future I see monsters I can’t imagine standing up to. I see a life lived in a manner that I dread. I see endless scenes of things being the way they aren’t supposed to be. And. If I am honest. I am scared. I am afraid of the future. And that part, being scared of my life, fucking Sucks. I had been deeply impacted by this diagnosis. I was apathetic and a little withdrawn from the life I want.

I vacillate between those things in a matter of minutes. It’s very de-stabilizing and I am adjusting to a New World where I am equal parts 1/2 cup happy and 1/2  cup terrified.

But when I push myself to clear away the cobwebs and chill the F out,  I am in the beginning stages of Moving Forward as a new person. This New Person is someone who will live his life to the fullest, most healthily and in the most balanced way possible.

Knowing that there is a future out there which will limit the things I currently take for granted, has a way of flipping the lens on how you look at life. There is so much to do. So much More to do. And so much Color to see. And in truth, I want it ALL.

I know the hard days will come. But they will GO away too.  It’s the nature of the beast.

Being alive in any moment, good or bad, is the most important thing to me now. I can’t forecast a future if I’m not IN the present.

In the meantime, anyone have a kidney they wanna put on ice until I need it?

Much to you & I’m glad to be back !!!!

Nately

tribe

This is the first time in my life that I've been off work for more than a week.  In this moment I am going on week 4 of my Medical Leave from work.  Initially I'd thought I would be able to return to work in a few weeks, however, recovery from my Fusion is much more complicated.  **hmmmmm, isn't it always more complicated than we initially thought ?

The surgery site is healing, and my back is feeling better day by day, but my legs and feet are not.  I had not anticipated the lower part of my body to be as impacted as it has been.  I can't be on my feet for too long - if i am, the nerve pain takes over and I just can't move.  It's as though my battery is running out and I slowly begin to shut down.  One step into the next takes longer and longer with each stride, draining the battery.  Until....I'm near delirious with the struggle and things just.........stop working.  

Anyway, this post.......It's about NYC. The BIG APPLE.  The City that Won't Sleep. 

Having so much time to myself, without structure of a schedule and work pressure, I've found clarity.  A little pill that makes things more transparent than before. I've found things that were hidden by the plain eye, discovery in this Time of Healing.  

It's been almost 6 months here.  And I now understand why people have always said that you have to Live Here for at least two years before you Feel Comfortable.  Only 6 months here, and I am just beginning to realize that I ACTUALLY LIVE IN MANHATTAN.  It's true and I am only NOW thawing to these truths. For some reason, that I can't identify explicitly, the first 6 months have been like I've been underwater....holding my breath, waiting to come up until it's safe. 

If I were to make a hypothesis, I would guess I've been in self-preservation mode.  Moving here was A Full TIlt Gamble.  Moving in with Andrea.  Moving to this place which has held my Longing.......... for SO Very LONG.  Leaving my 17 year relationship with Philadelphia.  Saying goodbye to my Urban Family, my support systems, turning the page on........My People.  I would guess I had to go numb for a bit to be able to process my new life.  And here I am. Wide Awake and trying to walk again.  And I need to get it out. I need to work it out.  To figure out, What End is Up.

Andrea and I are stronger than ever.  I can put it out there, in this space, that I am truly in love with him, and he with me.  It's a working, breathing entity.....our relationship.  And we have more good than bad, and that is something I've never experienced.  It's always been the converse, it's always been......such Hard Work.  We., Andrea and I....work.  Period.  We are HaPpy.  And we are so close, but.....there is something missing.  And that is what this post is about.

My Philadelphia family is rich.  It's all I could dream of.  And I miss them lots, but I see them lots too.  And in this time of healing, they have been HUGE.  You see.  That group, we all grew.  We all moved into our new chapters recently.  Two of us moved away (the other giving birth to a Precious Baby Girl), and another grouping had a third baby in under five years.........so we've evolved.  And others travel the globe and keep moving towards happiness.  It's good.  And This Is Us.  and it's Very Good.

But my Urban Family is important to me.  It defines me.  And in this new Urbanity, there is a gap.  

I moved to NYC with a solid friend base, but in the end, it may have only been a solid base of acquaintances.   I had expected more from my NYC people, but most just haven't showed up.  A few have, and for that I am grateful, but I tried hard to connect with a few, and ........... no show. I ain't mad, but it has left a void in my life.  

I have learned in the past that building your life solely on a relationship can prove deadly.  I have also learned that I yearn to part of something, to belong to a friend group Where I Give, And I Get. We've got a few people we have begun to make some meaningful friendships with, but it isn't where I need it to be.  And acquiring this presents with some barriers. 

We aren't single guys going out to bars....making friends with that Life is EASY.  That isn't us.  We aren't barflies and we aren't single.  (We do like going out, with friends).  So here we are.  How do we address this, how do we create what we want.

I know we can.  I know we will.  So we are in the process of activating our creative minds and laying pavement to find our tribe here.  It isn't everything, but I feel like we have a lot of good right now, and we have to figure this out.  I also know it will take time.  At the end of the day, I guess all I am saying is.......

I'm Ready.   The shock of moving here has diminished, and WE are Ready.  To find ourselves what we want in this city.  Initially it was all too easy to nest and create an apartment that we love.  We did that. We both love our apartment (even in it's tininess).  We love our puppy.  We love each other.  We. Are. Here.  Now.  (actually Andrea is in Italy right now...lol, but you get my drift). 

I love this place and I am so happy to be here, at this point in life.....finally.  Healthy and strong (even in my recovery).  And.

I. Am. Ready. 

**** I added some music. Hopefully you clicked on it while you read.  That's how it's done :)

west 45th and us

as I held the door for everyone to walk out, and I exited the building we would soon call home, the front door slammed shut with so much force it felt as though the ground shook beneath me.  the slamming of that door triggered something in me and in that exact moment, i unraveled.  i had literally...Come Undone.  

I remained that way for almost a full week, not being able to sleep, not eating much.....until this past weekend.  when we did what we do best, and spent some alone, time together being nathan + andrea.  it put me back on track (The Right One) and in the right space to prepare for the move to nyc in two weeks.  a move i've been waiting almost two decades for.  

we had signed the lease and gone back to the apartment to inspect it again, wanting to take measurements once more....because measurements in a NYC apartment are #crucial and as you will soon see we've been Obsessive about planning and making it PERFECT (said in all the gayness you can imagine).  after two months of looking sporadically at apartments, we sorta came to land on this one because it was the best of the lot we'd been to and we were sick of feeling defeated and brow beaten by ridiculous apartments and their eccentricities.  we also chose this one because of it's location to Penn Station.  the walk to NYP is a quick one, we've got Everything We Can Imagine within four blocks..........and so our little nest began to take form. 

the nest is on the first floor of a five story building that allows pets (we can't stop looking for a pup....obsessing over finding a beast to love).  the bedroom fits a queen bed (believe it or not, this is not true of many apartments we saw) and we've got two closets (my biggest fear...where will we put all our damn clothes).  we are on the first floor, right next to the main entrance to the building, apartment A in fact.  and this is where i have to bring you back to having come undone when that front door slammed shut.

the force of it jarred me, and i realized something.......... that very startling slambam was going to be something i will hear endlessly from the confines of our little nest over the next 365 days.  i realized i will go from living in a three story house to a mini one bedroom without a washing machine.  i realized i would hear cars and hookers All Through The Night from my street level bedroom. i realized that my life...........................was changing. In Big Fucking Ways.  and i lost my shit.  for a full week.  the fear took over and my cognitive functioning was hijacked by Catastrophic Thinking.  not fun - but now i see, it's all part of the process.  it's all natural and normal.  just took me a week to pull myself together and realize the best thing of all.  

This Is What I Came For.

true, it's a small place but we spent this past weekend finalizing all the details of our interior design, and i gotta tell you, i cannot, CANNOT, wait.  it's going to be fantastic. and even more fantastic is the team that Andrea and i make.  sure, we had a few meltdowns in some stores buying stuff, but overall.....we deserve an A.  unlike my last venture in living with my partner, this one is easy.  and full of funny times and thoughts........and hand holding.  i have to think it's because i've grown into a man i can be proud of, but i have to tell you.....my man is good.  he is......all i could ask for. 

all the same,  focusing that potential, and harnessing the fear/anxiety/worry, has been a huge task for me.  leaving the spacious-happy home I have here in Philadelphia is taking a great deal of emotional energy and even more than that.....unloading of useless belongings.  I tend to live somewhat clutter free.....after I departed my last co-habitation relationship I learned to live minimally, mostly because i realized that for me,  having a lot of stuff (junk) didn't help me feel the way I wanted to feel.  i began to understand i can have nice things, but i don't need excessive amounts of those things (except products, give me all the facial moisturizer and lotions you can throw at me).  all the same, i had accumulated more than i like, and going through the emotional memory of the last 6 years has been a fucking roller coaster of a ride.  

the next few weeks are going to take a lot of work.  physical and emotional.  but i'm ready for You.  bring it and your obstacles, Mr. Relocation Bitchface.  I got this and you.  

to be continued.....................................................

fragility and my left ring finger

Some time ago there was a hate crime in Philadelphia.  A gaggle of 20 somethings beat and abused two gay men in our city.  In quick time the face of this crime became a girl named Kathryn Knott.  Without question, anger and disappointment pulsed through my body whenever I would see her face in my news feeds.  I wanted the worst for her and her entourage, while at the same time I wanted her bigotry to be dismantled.  She served some time in jail, beyond that I have no clue where her hatred for Those Who Are Different Than She is.  For certain, their actions did not feel the norm in That Moment, it felt like they were the exception.

In spite of something as disgusting as that, my heart was full.  The momentum for Equality and Acceptance was like a speeding bullet, we were riding the wave of Majority.   This fact was only enriched by the sharp contrast of my experience growing up, in The Hiding of my true self.  Wait.......... I shouldn't say "hiding".  You can't hid that which could not be hidden.  What I did grow up with, was a distinct understanding that because I was feminine, I was...... less than.  It's true that being gay was only one facet of the bullying I endured, but it was the most painful one, beyond a shadow of a doubt.

The pain associated with that time in my life is long gone. However, the memory of it is easily accessible.  A few years ago there became a movement online...where men and woman in same sex relationships began to document their marriages and love on video.  There was also the "It Get's  Better" movement, which was developed in sharp response to the grief our community experienced over the suicide of our teenage selves.  To say that in both of these movements I found hours and hours of tearful-sobbing vulnerability, would be an understatement.  These things elicited a response in me, a response to both the beauty of normalizing love and marriage, as well as a response to the traumatic experience of being a young gay man in decades gone by.    

The current political climate has brought it all back.  I find myself tearful at times.  I find myself in full on avoidance mode, tucking away this reality to escape the feeling that This Can't Be Happening.  I find myself being mean and hurtful to those in Opposition to my freedom.  Above all else, I find myself understanding with Precision Sharp Clarity....that we have been living in a world that was not as True as I'd like it to have been.  While the movement might have been momentous, it was not majority.  It was not a consensus.  The bubble has evaporated, and in it's place a fear has taken shape that is greater than anything I have experienced in a long long time.  
Not to be misunderstood, the climate for LGBT rights is only a portion of the Fear Mountain.   Every day, when I see another Lego piece being added to the building of our government, and I see the horrifying reality of those who are going to lead our country, I literally start to shudder.

I love my fucking life these days.  The gratitude and love I have for the World I have built is infinite.  I will not stand by silently, and I will not let this fear get the best of me.  I will cherish and love every part of The Things Around Me, and I will make sure if you are part of That, you will know how much I value what you Give.

Because now, now I understand how Fragile the last years in these United States have been.  The celebration I felt, internally, at being able to legally Put A Ring On It, is gone.  In place of celebration, I put boxing gloves and endurance.  I will be here.  I will not give up.  And I certainly won't be defeated.  Not in my love, not in my heart and not in my path.

I wait for the moment that the What The Actual Fuck Is Going On dissipates.  I wait to feel the veil of disbelief lifted to expose truth and acceptance.  And I will wait with a smile and my heart on my sleeves.  

Remember that.

But.  

What the fuck is actually, totally.....happening? 

when the past taps you on the shoulder

The Friday of Memorial Day weekend has a certain static hum to it, doesn't it?  Especially in NYC - Penn Station.  On Friday I traveled to NYC mid-day.  As I walked from the depths of the station into the main concourse, I glanced upward to see My Man standing there, holding a single rose in his hand; a smile and a determined swagger in his adoration of me.  

As I made my way to him, bouncing from person to person in the sea of Memorial Day Beach Seekers in Penn Station this past Friday, a whole slew of memories flooded me.  

For two summers in 2012 and 2013 I did a share in Fire Island Pines.  #memories.  The hustle-bustle of the train station on a Friday afternoon was something that I'd come to love when I was traveling out to The Pines.  

Unfortunately I look back on those two summers with regret and something akin to shame.  The biggest part is that I wasted time, money and energy for all the wrong reasons.  It got to be that The Pines became nothing short of painful for me, a kind of self inflicted pain that I couldn't shake.  I thought the beauty of The Pines was something that would create tranquility for me. I was never so wrong.  Those two summers were the epicenter of my own personal breakdown, and man o man, do I ever regret the carnage.  

The biggest parts of my regret lie in how I treated the people around me, and the fact that I took The Pines for granted.  I gained and lost friends those summers, something that haunts me often. The other phenomenon is that  I also built an aversion to Fire Island in that time.  

This weekend, as I was pushing towards Him, was the first time I ever felt the pull to be out there, to feel the Pines sand under my feet.  I miss it, but am also afraid of it.

All of this comes into focus now more than ever, because of the events of my current life.  My Man with The Rose.  I haven't really found a way to write about this growing romance in the most recent months, partially because it just didn't feel right.  Actually, I haven't really felt the pull to write about anything here, feeling a little bit out of touch, creatively speaking.  However, I had this ache over the weekend, and knew that writing might help me quell the fire a bit.

Anyway.  
AP came into my life about three months ago.  The precise timing of our meeting was somewhat shocking given that I wasn't looking for him.  But this is how these things go, when a story is struggling to take flight a new character is introduced and turns the journey on it's head.  And so it is.  It's been a time of discovery and fun.  A journey worth reading about.  

So.......meet AP :) and follow me for a moment.....

Much of the struggle in the time of my Pines Summers was anchored in a lost/twisted/destructive love affair, one that I am sure you're all too familiar with. Since then I've been fighting myself when it comes to finding a connection.  I've beat myself up over choices/doubts/confusion in these last three years of being alone.

 "Am I being the best person I can be?"  

"How can I be sure I'm healed?"  

"What do I want in my life?"  

However, before I found a connection, I needed to find myself. Totally cliched, but true nonetheless.  All of this is to say..........I have been distrustful of myself.     

But trusting myself is exactly what I do now.  Or at least, what I've begun to do.  And as it does most times, my head thought of all these things in a flash; while walking up from the platform to grab My Man and hug him.  As he handed me a rose.  On Friday afternoon of memorial day weekend 2016. In the train station.  Before we had an epic weekend of sand and sun and family and friends.  

realizing, it's so good to be here.  right here.  right now.

The Garbage Man Is Doing Better Than You

Sometimes I take the train to work.  When I do that, I have about a mile to walk before getting on and sliding on over to NJ.  Today I took the train.

My walks through this city are full of music in my ears and mindful thoughts of my Grand Existence, or....spilling coffee all over myself. The past couple of days I have been restless/reckless.  My needs and wants have been in a war.  What I Need isn't the same as what I want and vice versa.  

This morning in my mind:

"I am glad I decided not to go to the Catskills with Him, he's great and I can't want to spend more time with him, but NYE and the weekend alone with him feel too much......but still.   And Daniel (all names changed to protect the innocent) is so much fun and has begun to care for me in big ways, but I can't jump into him like this.....I can't.  Last year, I was with Gary and Alyssa for NYE at their home and we toasted and had a beautiful night, but I have to let them have their own family, spending Christmas Eve and Christmas with them was brilliant, but I have to establish myself.  Finn seems fun, and kissing him the other night for hours on end was so nice, even with that thing on his lip....but he's just broken up and proving to be a flake and so....and what if I stayed home alone, toasted to myself and my loved ones and just went to bed.  I did that two years ago, and that morning Kenny came over and we danced in my bedroom and sang and drank champagne and had sex all day in my.......... ." 

AND BAMMMMMMMM

I was thinking all these things and walking down a very cute street in Rittenhouse, littered with leftovers of Christmas on the curb. What I hadn't heard was the garbage truck beeping and backing up.  What I did see though, kinda took my breath away.  One of the men who walks beside the truck and picks up The Trash, had flown onto one of the concrete pillars that are placed so people can't drive in certain places.  He'd flown on top of it, did a twist off it, leaping at least 7 feet, exclaiming "YESSSSSS!!!!!!"  with his arms spread wide and his smile beyond galactic.  It appeared to me to be in slow motion, and in my minds eye he looked directly into my face and winked.......implying "Hey Nate, EVERYTHING WILL BE OK !"

Who knows what that was about, but he was happy................yes, in that moment, he was golden.  

That moment, a moment that occurred within the last 48 hours of the year 2015 came to me and filled me.  It filled me with a lot.  My first emotion was gratitude for having witnessed that, at possibly the most perfect time for my soul.  The second feeling I had was envy.  When was the last time I'd felt that way. When was the last time I felt compelled to exclaim  a sense of joy in such a manner. I can't remember.  

I'm not going to push through this story to give some predictable wishes for the New Year, I'll leave that up to all of you.  In this Moment I am listening to a Good Song, I just applied Spiced Citrus Beard Oil to my Gay Beard.  I have been working hard on making my body a thing I am proud of, my job is going great.....and in this moment, all I have is the Good Stuff.   I'll be happy to welcome more Good Stuff.  But for now, I have the moment.  

And that, my dear loving friends, is just about enough.

All my love and may we all get what we deserve in our Future.

Nately Nathan Shawn Tate

The Stranger With the Beard Who Held You

Friday the 13th.....was amazing.  It all happened in less than 15 minutes.  I didn't know who you were, and you hit me up only because of my picture.  Even still, you secretly left your friends, and the bar, to meet me.  I saw you standing on the corner waiting for me to get there to pick you up and my heart kinda skipped around in my chest.  You got in my car and the deal was sealed. We spent the night awake, laughing, staring into each other's eyes ...........getting to know each other.  And I'm having a hard time letting that go.  I made you take an Uber home in the morning, because I didn't want to give away too much.  And driving you home would seem too much of me.

There are so many secrets you keep from your world and you're so confused about things, but all of that was transcended for 13 hours.  You melted me, and I'm a little bit lost right now.  As all things come and go, so will my seemingly impossible grip on the Vision of You.

I didn't make the best decision in responding to your messages.  You aren't out, you are entirely too young for me,  and that night was the first night you spent the night with a guy.  

But.  

The electricity of it all was illuminated with these facts.  The Taboo created fire.  And I haven't gotten away from that fire a full 36 hours later.  You wanted very much to see me more this weekend but I was busy until today.  You said we'd see one another today.......but today is about to wrap up.  

The duplicity of a life hidden, of waiting for a time to cut loose the Charade and walk Clean Slated into your own skin. Your real skin, the one you were born into...not some dictated and produced version.

When I was in college I did the same thing.  I had a boyfriend who lived three hours away at another college.  I lived in fear, constantly.  I would go to bed at night in tears sometimes because those whom I loved didn't know me, and I was lying to them around every corner.  I fabricated so much about my life, so much about where I was going on weekends and who i was with.  After college it took me a few years to come clean with people, to open up the truth of me.  Those years were so scary, so tough.  But uncovering me, however scary, was also electric.

I know The Electricity was generated again with you on Friday night.  I also know I have to let go of the thought of you, the feel.  If there is anything these few years of being single have provided me, it's an understanding that pillow talk is just that.....and no one really owes me anything.  Lots of idealistic emotions have been blown away in favor of This Abrupt Reality.

Yes, lately I've bruised me knees many times over, and felt my heart constrict on occasion, but I keep going.  I go on dates.  I meet you to kiss.  I hold you, only if for a night.  I tell you I am ok with whatever you need to do.  

Still.  This feeling.  The depth of it, it's hard to shake. Very hard.

To.
Shake. You. Off. 

Until I meet you again.  And mister gorgeous..... ...I know I will.  You will seek me, because I know what.....you want.

Muchly Much,

xoxo  The Stranger With the Beard Who Held You  xoxo

The Breast Awakens

Celebrity has made it a Thing.  Several women have opted to have their breasts removed in response to a real or perceived cancer scare.  In my mind, there would be no question if I was faced with the choice (at least that's what I tell myself).  But my mind isn't my mother's, and Mastectomy is not as clean a cut as you might think.

5 years ago my mom, Nanette, fought cancer with a lumpectomy, extensive chemotherapy, radiation, and a shit ton of love.  Her experience came at a time in my life where everything changed, every last part of my life was turned upside down.  I can tell you, her diagnosis and battle created the mindset that forced me to let go of all in my life that was causing me pain, discomfort, and weighing me down.  Her battle allowed me to finally understand that my fears and life were things that could lead me anywhere.  As she lost her hair, got wildly sick from the Chemo, and continuously needed to be forced to eat....I left my relationship, home, dog, car and some friends because if my amazing mom could live each day with such struggle, I could endure strife for a while too.

She came out of the treatment changed forever and had been cancer free for almost 5 years.

Breast Cancer has once again found it's way into my mother.  It's altogether impossible to believe it, and yet is so real I can feel it's edges and threats every moment.  To be very clear from the beginning of this, the type of cancer she has now is non-invasive.  It's much less life threatening than the previous version.  However I can tell you, the impact of this kind of news is tsunami-like. 

In the past year my Aunt Kathi, Aunt Eileen, and Grand-mom Ernest died.  My father died in 2011.  My family was small.  It is now a pin prick on the map of the universe.  My mom's recent quest for information and consequent diagnosis has been debilitating.  The Fear and Doom that has coursed through my body is not easily expressed.  However, in many ways my process doesn't mean shit.  My mom.  Nanette.  

The first weekend in this new diagnosis was a nightmare for her.  Chemotherapy is a notorious traumatic therapy, I don't have to belabor the horrors that come as the poison drips into your body.  My mom was one of those people who had abnormal reactions to Chemotherapy.  She developed all kinds of crazy shit as a result of those treatments.  It also saved her life.  When the Dr. most recently told her she had a mass in her breast, she became despondent.  My mom thought Chemo would end up killing her.

As it turns out, there will be no need for chemo.  Lumpectomy and radiation.  However.....to Mastectomy or Not Mastectomy.  This question has haunted my mom.  It seems like such an easy answer.....such an easy step to take to secure a life with little concern for this illness which seems to favor my mom.  It isn't so.  She can't seem to commit to having a Mastectomy.  And she never saw this as a potential issue.  The Doctors are surprisingly against a Mastectomy.  However, having breast cancer twice in 5 years.....wouldn't it seem logical?  Surfing through emotions, trying to be a fortune teller and see what will happen.........There is no easy answer, and when I write about it here, of course there is no easy answer.  

It's fucking cancer.

The powers that be have taken away most of what I used to call family.  We move on, we take the phone calls and we wake up every day with love in our hearts for those of us who remain and those whom we love with all our being.

The evolution of loss is something I will forever be in awe of.  The reality of survival is stronger.

I know this may come out as cliched, or daft.  I have to say it anyway.  At a time in my life when I am looking for love again, finally after so long, really looking for a partner in life.....I have been floored to have to focus on what I have, not what my punk ass is missing.  I have striven for healthy mind and body, with variable bumps along the way.  When something like this comes into your atmosphere though, you stop and fall to the ground.  Fall to the ground in fear, yes. But you also fall to the ground and kiss it for being there.  If you don't take the time to savor what you have and who you love......it's all for nothing.  And please.  Please don't forget this my friends.  

Hug longer.  

Kiss deeper.

Text a greeting of gratitude to those you love.  And you will get your life's worth back in spades.

I love you Momma !!!!!

(btw if you get a chance look up Angelina Jolie's story. It's really really moving)

when you don't want me to move

The end of summer.

It's a strange thing isn't it ?  When the air starts to get a little crisp and you walk down the street feeling a little less labored, a little less.....busy.  When you begin to get the stir inside you that it's time to start fresh, that somehow the Autumn is a new beginning, a new secret passageway to hit the reset button and set your sails....aiming higher.

At least, that is what happens for me.  Summer always seems so.......chaotic.  For good reason.  The start of summer opens up so much potential, the world seems to shout for you to get out and do as much as you can.......telling you "This Shit Won't Last"..  Usually in the beginning of August I start to feel a pulling, a yearning, for slower pace and warm cuddles on the couch.  From then until the end of September I feel conflicted for those feelings, forcing myself to eat all the sunshine i can, feel as much sand in my toes as possible before hunkering down to such great heights.  

This summer has been, to use the word of the moment, EPIC.  As many of you know, I have a tattoo on my arm that says "All these thing that I've done". I got that tattoo at a time where I needed a reminder to be kind to myself for the mistakes I'd made, for the things i'd done.  At a time when it seemed to the world, and to my own reflection, that I was burrowing deeper into spaces of regret and shame.  As I licked my wounds and took charge of my life, one grain of sand at a time, the tattooed lyric took new meaning.  The Things I'd Done morphed into a more positive zone, and I began to use it as a way to highlight ways I was healing, Doing To Grow.  

Now. This summer.  The last 6 months.  All These Things I've Done gave me life.  Something many of you know, the last two summers were shitastic in Nately World.  Moments of good were sprinkled into lots of zombie-like living.  Just moving through the days for the sake of moving, so as not to materialize into vapor.  Restlessness and bleeding insecurities were my commandments. But that changed.  About a year ago I went deeper into myself to find out what the actual fuck was going on.  I realized it had Very Little to do with a broken heart, and much more to do with myself.  

In any event, I lived this summer.  I loved every minute of it.  Sure, I had days that the struggle bus pulled up and honked loudly on Webster Street.  But that's normal.  

Most everyone who sees me tells me how much better I look, how much happier I appear, that this summer has been good to me. (a side note:  sooo many people comment on how thin I was before, that it worried them.  the truth of me is that when things are bad, i don't eat.  i can't eat.  and if i do, my worry and anxiety burn it off. it's just what happens for me.  don't worry, i'm not sick, not doing bad things...i. don't. eat.)

I will say, the biggest shift has been in my Men Management.  I am happy to report, for the very first time in my life (no fucking joke) I don't need a man, which isn't to say I won't have one....I just don't NEED one in order to exist.   Somewhere around April my death grip on Needing  A Relationship weakened just enough for me to see myself as a solo act.  I began to see that going to a wedding without a date, not needing to hold a hand in the sand...... was priceless.  Actually, it's not that I realized it, it's that I FELT it.  All the way inside, in a place I never knew existed.  Do you have any idea the freedom that gave me?  Any concept of how peaceful it would feel to someone who previously ONLY wanted to share his life with someone else ?  It allowed me to share my life, with myself.  That, my friends, is the meaning of Epic.  
The solidification of this was Ptown.  It was going to Ptown by myself, and having more fun by myself in those days than I did in all the years combined that I'd gone with someone else.  it just set me free.  

And with that freedom has come the ironic opening of Good Men Doorways.  I've been granted genuine selfie smiles lately because of the men who have walked into my room, pulled up a chair, a cup of coffee/glass of wine, an open space.....a bit of sunshine.  Such kindness, such authenticity.  Funny how that works.  #whirlwind

When you don't want me to move, I have to.  And I'm free.  Lesson learned.  

Here's to you big guy.  For the freedom you gave me, in All These Things That I've Done.

How to build a beach shrine

I took a week and three days off from work, starting July 16th.  The next couple entries are going to be pieces of that week and three days.  I can only hope to relay to you half of what I experienced in this time away from my life.

---

Provincetown, MA.

On July 12th I had no continuous idea of what my vacation was going to look like.  On July 21 I woke up on Herring Cove Beach, at 8 am, and looked out at the water.  Only 10 feet from the water's edge bobbed a Seal.  Looking at me.  Blinking.  Looking.  He twitched a little as I locked eyes with him, held the gaze for a few more seconds and he then flipped away into the ocean.  I'll explain how I got there in a bit, so hold tight.  And imagine the beauty of what I just described.  I'm still holding it tight in my heart.  Still wondering............ 

I had not been there since 2010.  We used to go every summer for a full week.  However, since then,  I moved my summer passions to Fire Island. Two years in a share there, which didn't quite work as I wanted, and I was left without a true feeling of summer.

The beginning of this summer has been amazing, with a reconnecting friendship at Rehoboth Beach, as well as powerful time with my family.  

As I thought more about it, I began to realize that I wanted to do something extraordinary for my vacation time.  I decided I was going to Ptown.  I was going, for only a few days, without a place to stay (I'd begun to look and could not find lodging, not even a campground had space). As the week drew on, I got pretty nervous about just winging it, having to potentially settle on the kindness of strangers or the discomfort of my car for sleeping accommodations.  As it turns out, there were last minute bookings and I got a hotel for two nights only.  I'll say this ahead of time, I ended up staying three nights, only having my own room for two of those.  

I've struggled with how to write this, how to explain to you what happened while I was there.  I don't want to share every nook and crevice of what happened because I don't think you can understand.  Instead I want to articulate, to allow you to see, what came from it. 

I pulled onto Cape Cod tentatively.  I had never done something like this alone.  I was telling myself all these negative things, saying how scary it was to be alone.  Worried what it would feel like walking down Commercial Street without someone to laugh with, or at.  

As it turns out, that's all complete bullshit. 

The magic of Provincetown is that you can never be alone, that you will never be alone.  Within only an hour or so, that message seeped into my soul.  I parked my car and put my bags in my room, took my bike off the rack and road immediately to RELISH.  I didn't get anything but a coffee and some fruit, but the cupcakes and pastries started the Ptown rush with their visuals and scent all by themselves.

I rode my bike more, and then settled at a popular coffee spot until Bubula's opened for brunch.  When I got to Bubula's the grandmom hostess asked how many in my party.  I said "I'm alone", and she said "honey, don't ever say you're alone.  Say TABLE FOR ME, PLEASE."   

Well. That about did it for me.  My fears melted off my cranium and I was fine.  Not another thought about it actually.  
I'm not going to tell you about who I kissed and who I woke up next to.  What I need to share with you though is what was missing before I went to Ptown.  It had started to reappear on Memorial Day and then July 4th weekend in Rehoboth, but this trip to Ptown brought back something integral to my survival.  

And here it is.

The things I went through in my last relationship, and the consequent abuse I did to myself, took away my own positive self regard.  Completely robbed me of my own view of self.  I would look in the mirror and see ugly, old. undesirable and damaged.  Of no worth to anyone.  I would gander that this was a 50/50 shakedown on words and things that had been done to me in that relationship, split evenly with the shame spiral I engaged in after that.

In Ptown though, I couldn't avoid it.  I could not, COULD NOT, deny the constant stream of attention given to me, for both my physicality as well as for how I presented myself as a man.  At one point I was sure someone was punking me, that someone was paying these dudes to shake me down for my affections and attention. (and i hope you understand this has nothing to do with me  being egocentric....it's the opposite)

In my alone time, when I walked to the beach, or was jumping in and out of the ocean, I lamented the amount of energy and time I'd wasted on such ball shattering things.  But in that sand, in that place of tranquility out past the dunes on the beach, I let it go.  It all happens for a reason, and it's clear that everything I'd been part of led me to that place.  

The first night was balls to the wall fun.  I mean.......balls to the fucking wall fun.  I want to tell it to you, all the dirty caressing parts of it, but can't.  Won't.  But...did i say already???...it was fun.

The second night, well the second night had a different feel to it, but one that was pleasant enough.  And one that pushed me in directions and choices that felt pretty good actually.  I found myself feeling confused about something so...naturally I went to the Porch Bar and sang showtunes for a few hours.  #SCORE  I mean......I did the right thing in the end, and for that I am pretty happy.  

I checked out of my hotel the next morning and the sun was glaring.  It was hot and humid and there was no way in hell I was leaving. I spent time on the beach alone and then with my friends from Philadelphia who had a house with a beautiful pool and plenty of Veuve :)  I ended up meeting some beautiful strangers at Tea and spent the rest of the night laughing, loving and getting to know a new group of people.  Another balls slammed on the fucking wall kinda night.  #Showgirls

Which brings me to the next morning and the seal.  I can share with you that my Philadelphia friends offered me a place to stay that night.  I also found another hotel that had a room for me.  On top of that I met a fine young gentleman who requested my company.........

---

Some time ago a friend told me that he had gone to Ptown and gotten up really early, drove out to the part of Herring Cove that you could actually drive to.  He said he parked his car and watched the sun rise on a blanket on the beach.  I can tell you that around 5am I got up and took my car out there and did the exact same thing.  I fell asleep for a while, covered in my tapestry. Until I woke to see the seal, until I woke to see.......what I needed to see.  

I take equal parts reed, sticks, stones, dead crabs, moorings washed up on the shore, pieces of random clothe, rope washed from boats, driftwood, wine bottles and hope.  I make things on beaches.  Some of you know this of me, some of you don't.  The picture on the front page of my blog is something I made in Fire Island.  The beach build on this entry is not something I made, but I did sit in front of it, and made myself a smaller version.  Call it a shrine, call it being at peace.....i take great solace in it.  

The few days I spent in Ptown came to life in such colorful and vibrant ways that I can only hope you see what I tried to show you.  I want to go back there soon, potentially potential.....if you know what I mean.  Who knows what I will experience then, but I can tell you, whatever it is....I'm ready.  

convergence + duplicity

In movies, when skies turn dark and clouds begin to form over a spot.  

Those clouds begin to create a circular sweeping motion...round and round, until the storm is ready to open some power.  Think Ghostbusters at the top of that building towards the end, or in X-Men, when Storm creates......a storm.  You know some bad shit is going to happen in that spot, some heavy duty plot twist is hanging on by a thread before it's exposed to us, the audience.  

For me, this weekend, was the unveiling of said plot twist.

---

My Grandmother was 90 years old.  I can' t specifically pinpoint when or how it all began, but Alzheimer's began it's slow creeping take over many years ago.  The last 3-4 years of her life were spent remembering Carmella as she used to be, not the vessel she currently was.   I never really knew how to process it all, but we just went along, hoping for some word or gesture to be given to us, to make us feel better about the person inside that body.  Hoping that in some ways she was still with us, and I do believe she was there at times.  

My grandmother passed away, in her home, this past Saturday morning.  Her two daughters and husband were at the bedside.  I can't think of anything more beautiful.  I arrived shortly thereafter and she was resting peacefully.  The Funeral Home came to get her, with a stretcher and gentle process.  

My mother and I held onto each other as they took her away and drove off.  

---

I am now legally recognized as someone who can marry another man, and can do so with legal and humanitarian equity.  Every cell in my body has experienced this SCOTUS ruling with the kind of intense emotion I believe will only come a few times in life.  This past weekend i has plans to be in NYC for Pride on Saturday, wherein I would go on a rooftop Rose date with a cute man.....and oddly enough leave NYC Sunday morning to go to Fire Island for two days.  A return to the place where I lost love, and sanity, a few years back.  I was elated to celebrate the Rainbow in NYC and to peacefully introduce that Island back into my life. * Pride makes me a blubbering mess, mostly because of the beauty I see in all those years of pain I endured as a confused, bullied, gay kid, and how that pain turned into something so fucking rock solid.

---

Convergence. 

The world was screaming CONGRATULATIONS AND CELEBRATION.  

My phone voicemails and text messages were transferring CONDOLENCES AND BEAMS OF LIGHT.  

I had one foot in the deep loss of a woman who loved with her whole heart, someone who allowed her loved ones to live their lives and make their mistakes....and was always there to say I LOVE YOU.  She helped with what she could and gave her hope for a good life for all of us.  You felt that in her, from her.  Palpable.  

My other foot was in the highly regarded beauty of a world changed for me and those like me.    

For me, both create tears.   Of sadness, and at the same exact time, of joy.  

I had to stop looking at my social media throughout the weekend because it was too much to watch, while I was grieving.  I tried so hard to fit both in my body, but one of them had to go, and it was the Celebration of Equality.  My straight friends and family who supported and loved all us gay humans took my breath away with the support and celebration, but I could not be there as I wanted to be. Duplicity.  Saying goodbye and understanding a world without a significant matriarch took precedence.  

---

I have missed my grandmother for many years now.  I have missed the way she smelled, the way it sounded when she walked around her house.  I have missed her rambling messages that really had no point other than to tell me what her day was like.   I will continue missing her now that she has finally given her body the rest it so needed.  

I have missed my partnership with another man the past few months.  I know I will grow and become a better person, waiting for some other man to evolve as well.  We will celebrate in however we see fit when we decide life is something we want to forever share.  

My Grandmother, who accepted me even though she maybe didn't understand my direction of love, will forever be entwined with marriage equity.  I'm a fan of that concept. Yup.  Sure am.

Beauty is what I see in the cycle of life and death.  Love is part of that cycle and I have known it in such a way that I am beyond humbled..   In my own cycle, I stumble with death, love ......and life for that matter.  Times like these are mysterious to me.  We are saying goodbye to Carmella, but I know she is watching me, watching us, and routing for us all.  Giving us love, sending me love, so that I may find it when the time is right.

---

For CE.  All my love.

It Stops Me In My Tracks

To know me is to know that I can be hyper passionate about Things.   On a daily basis Things float into my orbit and I sometimes can't shake them.  I sometimes see these things in a side glance....I sometimes see them head on..... and a lot of the time I see them in my mind's rear view mirror from a different vantage point.

Inspiration.  I'm always looking for it, I'm always injected with it.  Inspire.  In me.  For some reason, a reason I can be pretty sure of, I am intensely vulnerable to these Things right now.  

You know Superman, right?  You know he has super powers, right?  I'm in SuperNately mode right now.  And my super powers?  To feel EVERY god damn emotion with the intensity of every Super Hero combined.  Yeah. Today, I watched three things on the computer at work and cried at each and everyone of them.  If I'm not crying about it, I've got goosebumps everywhere.  
And it's a god damn riot I tell ya.  I end up just laughing at myself, by myself.  It's a good thing.  I like it.  I like it a lot. 

Anyway, I wanted to share some deep inspiration with you all today.  It's good stuff.  And it makes me happy.  I sometimes worry that people don't feel the inspiration, or the heat, behind things like I do.  But then I realize, the right people.....they do.  And sometimes, I open people up to things that they would otherwise go unknowing about.  I open them up to it, and give them some kind of inspiration.  

The cool thing...the really miraculous thing, in my mind anyway, is that if you look hard enough you can find a message or an emotion, in Just About Anything.

• Yo. So much happened to me today when I watched this.  First and foremost....the premise of not being able to listen to a song because it reminds me of someone....I FUCKING GET IT !!!!  Secondly, it's a gay couple.....something that I get emotional about every time I see it in mainstream media.  It's so fucking amazing to see this in my lifetime. I remember a time when this sort of thing was shameful, and that both hurts still....but mostly, I am so fucking happy to not be labeled something disgusting...because of who I am.  Thirdly, one of the dudes is Dustin Lance Black.  And that makes me VERY happy.  If you remember he won an Oscar for Milk.  (and then there was the homemade porn of him fucking another guy bareback that caused a HUGE outcry.....#getoverit)  Watch the video. It's powerful   And the end...I get it.  I feel it every day.

• "You have to get lost before you find yourself".  Teenage angst a la Perks of Being a Wallflower or The Fault in Our Stars.  You bet your ass I'm on there.  For some reason the concept of big sweeping events shaping who and how you become the best version of you....those sorts of things invade me to the core.  If I can laugh through some misty eyes and think of the events from my own adolescence I am a happy man.  I may be "a certain age", but parts of me are just never going to grow up.  I'll always love this kind of movie or book.  

• Rita Ora.  This song has been on repeat for about three weeks now.  "but nothing ever gets me high like this, I pick my poison and it's you.  Nothing could kill me like you do.  You're going straight to my head, and I'm headed straight for the edge....."  Identification with lyrics...check.  Feeling like Rita Ora is hittin it hard lately with her image....check.  Get it. Get it.

• Florence unleashed this whole CD with a snippet of this song.  The song, in it's entirety is just outstanding.  I can't stop listening to it, and getting new things out of it each time.  It's lush, conflicted lyrics take my breath away.  "What are we going to do, we opened a door and it's all coming through..."  As many of you know, I cherish Florence.  This new album is perhaps the one I identify with the most.  Girlfriend was going THROUGH IT when she wrote these songs.  She's really clear about it, being about a broken soul and heart.  And while I may be past the heartache of it all, it never really goes away does it ?  "So much time on the other side, waiting for you to wake up...."  On this track, she references the lyrics from another track..."What Kind of Man".  Brilliant.  Brilliant ball of fire she is.  Thank you for giving her to me :)

• The beautiful goodbye.  Inspiration comes from me too.  Directly from within me.  So I'm sharing something I wrote a week ago.  It's personal, and it's a bit......well it's subject matter again that is recalling things from the past....but it's my fabric.  And I write to heal.  Heal I have.  And here it is.

May 26,  2015

I'm driving home from the beach.
The day after Memorial Day.  I am smiling and so very happy.  #lifeisbeautiful

Two years ago at this exact time, on this exact day, I sat next to you, westbound, on the LIRR.
You had that god-forsaken eye mask/pillow covering your face. To sleep and to avoid us.
I sat next to you knowing once we parted ways, it was goodbye forever.
The closer we got to street level, from the depths of Penn station, the closer we got to our final goodbye.  

As you stood with your tote bags next to the escalator and the face of total indifference, I tried to hug you and kiss you goodbye.  You looked away.  And that is how I remember you. That last time I really saw you, the last time.....and that is a beautiful moment for me now.  It helps me know it's how it would always end up.  You turning your head away as I tried. Full of yourself. Empty of truth.

---

Just keep your eyes open.  Show me what you see too.  What inspires you, makes you feel goosebumps.....what makes you think of fantastical and bountiful things ??? 

Show me.  Always.

Nately

The Precipice of Memorial Day

I am a therapist.  I sit with people for an hour and we work at whatever problems, feelings or life circumstances they see fit to conquer and deal with.  For me, the process is a highly Intimate Affair.  To get another human being to talk about things, that in most cases they haven't talked with many others about, is a gift.  I am giving them a gift from my profession, and they are giving me one for my humanity.  

Every new session is like a television show, or a good novella.  It is not often you can predict what you are going to be unpacking with someone.  There are such things of beauty that come out of this, the flip of it is that it's emotionally exhausting.  The hours of people crying, people hurting....it's tough.  

Beautiful and tough.  An Intimate Affair indeed.  And, in full disclosure, I have the confidence to share with you, I know that I am gifted at what I do.  People who know me outside of work will tell you, I am a probing character.  I dig deep to ask questions that most people don't, and I do it automatically.  The reason I do it is because it's an Intimate Affair.  And if I want to be your friend and you want to be mine, I believe deep connections are what create bonds that are meaningful and purposeful.  It is why I have friends who constantly say "I love you" and vice versa.  Because Intimacy is a kryptonite chain of connectivity that will last forever.  

All the same, it takes little pieces of you apart, to be in my chair on a daily basis.   Let's say Diane is talking about her mother who has Alzheimer, it'll spark aninternal automated response about my grandmother who is 91 but mostly doesn't know much of anything and can't talk so much anymore.  In time, you get better at shutting down those automated thoughts to be outside of yourself in order to help Diane cope with her feelings of loss and grief.  To be sure, once I say goodbye to Diane and walk her out the door, I will spend some time processing whatever debris her conversation left behind for me and my personal life.  

Before I continue.  Let me say.......Happy Memorial Day to all.  A long weekend is a welcome one, a deserved one for the fun we need to have.  

A client gave me a gift this week leading up to Memorial Day.

I am single.  Being single, you spend a lot of time thinking about not being single.  When one has been in relationships his whole life, and has now not been in one for two years......one REALLY thinks about Love, alot.  This is a Great Tale of Miscalculation on my behalf.  

A client this week told me about her marriage.  While it is not a marriage that is in danger of ending, and actually, it appears to be a very lovely marriage all together. What she animated was the way they fight, when they fight.  And let's face it, if you are in a relationship, you mother fuckers fight.  

Remember when I told you that certain thoughts get automated during a session ?  Much to my surprise, my automated thought was this:

"I am so lucky to be single and not have to deal with That Shit".  

I sat in my cute little chair and thought.....HOLY SHIT NATE, You are OK !!!!  You see while I have the vague understanding that being single is fun, easy, carefree......my desire for love and belongingness always trumps those other things.  Or, it used to.  It occurred to me after that session.......I have not yelled at, cursed at, been yelled at, called a name, made to feel like an asshole or ANY OF THAT in a very long time.  While I can consistently support the Nately Theory of Picking The Wrong Man, I do think that all couples fight.  Single guys....no fights.  How do you like them apples ??

Anyway, the point of it all being.......it feels damn good.  And I never really allowed myself to experience that goodness.  The bigger beauty is the thought was automated, it came without any cognitive direction.  Fuck Yeah Nately.

Which brings me to the actual gift my client gave me.  

Memorial Day.            

Memorial Day 2000.  It was my first official Beach Share in Rehoboth Beach.  I was pumped as hell for a summer of men, sun and surf.  That weekend was the first weekend we went down for our share.  Saturday night of that weekend, Sting's "Desert Rose" pumped out of the speakers and I was singing in all my glory on the dance-floor.  That was the night I met the man I would spend the next ten years of my life with.  (consequently also shutting down my summer of slut, but that's not for this story).  Consequent Memorial Days went by with happiness and Margaritas.  Until we broke up.

Until my next ex. This next ex and the years we were entangled, Memorial Day was a patchwork of pain.  This time the setting was on Fire Island Pines (FIP).  Not here to hash that hot mess out, but we broke up after a torturous weekend in FIP two years ago, with Justin Timberlake's Mirrors playing in the background.  Twas our song.  In any event, last Memorial Day, after not having talked to him for a year, I emailed him.  I Remember....was the gist of it.  

Sooooo let me wrap this all up for you my friends and family.  

This week has been tough for some very personal reasons, that I do not care to detail, but I've been kind of emotionally raw.  I dropped my mom off at the airport yesterday morning.  I pulled away with tears in my eyes.  I hate that she lives far away, I hate that she doesn't get to experience life the ways I want her too, I hate that she isn't near me.  

Anyway as I got to looking for a parking spot once I got back home, Mirrors came on the radio.  I hope you understand what I mean by AUTOMATED.  When I heard the first few chords of that song, my automated self broke down.  #BROKEDOWNPALACE.

I can't tell you why, other than the fact that some things in life will always be full of emotion.  God knows I am free of that break up, free of that man.  I am not free of the emotions it stirs.  They will always be there, I know they will.  There will always be this small flicker of a flame in my chest.  Most likely forever.  I listened to the whole song and sang my ass off.  I was giggling by the end.  It's a damn good song.  

My client gave me the gift of happiness on Memorial Day Weekend.  I will not be fighting with anyone, worried about being cheated on.  I will not be constrained by anyone else's feeling, wants, or needs.  I will not be asked to do things I'm not comfortable with.  I will not be.......unhappy. 

So thank you. I thank you for allowing me to appreciate my automatic thoughts and feelings, in allowing me to realize my potential as A Single Man on the Verge of Me.  

The Precipice of Me.  And Memorial Day.

Ashes to Ashes

I believe it was the summer of 2009.  That time was such a blur, I kind of can't recall exactness, unless I went back and researched in my calendar or journal.  The year isn't really important.

One Sunday morning I got a call from some Doctor in Florida.  The tone of his voice was that of an old man who had seen and worked many days of tragic medicine.  My automated response to his voice and words were that of instant distrust, he was an outdated version of Derrick Shepherd......and I wanted Dr. Shepherd.  However, it wasn't too long before that shifted and I found myself on a plane to Florida to attend to what this Dr. felt were going to be my father's "last days".

Dad was found unconscious, non responsive, was on life support and not making any progress.  My ex didn't really know how to process my father, and nor should he have...my ex came from a very stable and loving home......my dad didn't fit into his world.  The choice to go alone to Florida was all mine.  I needed to do this alone, I needed to get through whatever I was going to get through, on my own terms.

I got a room in a hotel that was opening it's doors just that weekend.  It was the kind of hotel that was two floors with access to all the rooms on a balcony walkway and neon things lighting the shadows.  There were only about 15 rooms in the hotel.  Cute, potentially creepy.  It was the end of June and I rented a convertible to carry me around Miami.  It rained for most of the time I was there, in fact, I think it was the hardest rain I'd ever driven in.

I was only supposed to be there for four days, how many days do you stay when your dad is dying ?  I went to the hospital not knowing what to feel or how I was going to do once I got there.  He was in the ICU, hooked up to all those things one is when they are on life support.  I just stood there looking down at him.  Feeling not much of anything.  

I'll remember that nothingness for a long time.  In some ways I felt like he was in a better place, in other ways I felt such remorse for a life that could have been beautiful.  You see, my father was a good man.  He was affectionate and funny, at times charming.  Much of my personality comes from him, the parts of me that connect so easily to people.  He could pull himself together from time to time and be the man he wanted to be.  However most of what I saw of him was addiction.  So I looked down and felt nothing.  Except a desire to not end like that.  The fear of a destiny predetermined started to creep in during my time in Florida, and has been with me since then.

After three days the doctors had talked to me about unplugging.  I left the hospital that afternoon and went to the hotel pool.  Remembering that there was hardly any clientele there at this point, the pool was empty.  Not a soul in sight.  It was sorta overcast and balmy.  I jumped in and tried to sink to the bottom.  I floated for a while listening to that hum of my ear half in and half out of water.  It started to rain, but I stayed in there, looking up at the overcast sky wondering what else there was in life for me and how long my father would want to have lived.

After the pool I went to the local Rite Aid and made a photo book for him, with photos that I'd brought from home.  So he'd have pieces of me, as he left. 

By the time I got back to the hospital that night, he had improved and they were taking him off life support, so he could live.  Again, nothingness.  My father had 9 lives.  I kid you not.  I extended my visit for about 4 more days to see what needed to be done.  

While there in Miami, I met a man, Mr. E.  One day I was on the beach and I began talking to Mr. E..  He'd been a NYC guy, who wrote some book, and moved to Miami because he'd gotten into some troubles of his own in NYC.  It was July 4th and we walked along the beach while the fireworks bammed and South Beach went ballistic.  If Karma is a thing, I know for certain how I treated this man is what I got back in recent times.  I was clear in my communication with him.  I was in a relationship....and was not really going to cheat.  Not then anyway.  He fell for me.  

My father awoke at one point, and had no idea who or what he was.  As the days went on, he popped into reality, and when he did that.....he would just sob and tell me how much he loved me and accepted me for who I was.  The next minute, reality would go away and he would giggle, and with eyes crossed say he was born and raised in a chicken coop in the deep south (not a truth).  It was so very strange.  
Basically every time I went to see him and sit by him, I had goosebumps because I was so afraid.  Who the hell was I?  Alone with this man, who I'd spent so many years knowing, so many years struggling with my love for him, and my anger at him.   I was terrified he would say something to me on his deathbed that would jar me even more...terrified he'd live, and terrified he would die.

He lived.  That time.

With beeps and alerts from his hospital room going off, I tried to do some reasonable management with Mr. E. In the end, i stopped returning his calls, did not go see him while I was still there.  I was in over my head and, in true coward fashion, I just walked away and got on my plane.  

I think of him now because I've always pretended that I do the right thing, the respectful thing.  Always.  But he, this man in South Beach, he is but one of many.  Many that I don't close the door with, that I just.......vanish.  

And, well.  My father. He just vanished too.  In a different galaxy entirely, but sometimes the things we loose, the things we give away....they have a way of finding us again.  

That week in July, I lost a lot.  I did some other shade related things while there..  I found some things too.  I found a darker side to myself as well as a driveway to redemption.  I did my best with my father.  He died in  December 2011.  I was called, again by the Dr. Lots of Lives, and I unplugged dad for good this time. This summer (2015)  I have decided that I am going to spread his ashes in the Adirondack Mountains.  He loved it there...fishing, drinking, getting lost in his battles.  That was his battleground for a while and I feel content, finally knowing where he might want to be. 

The most interesting part of this story is I look back on that time and think of myself as being such a naive young man.  Life is so much more textured and measured now for me.  I think after losing love for myself and giving it to someone who used it as a pomade for his attention seeking, I am much more grown up.  That week, in Florida, I was an innocent.  

I've always wondered what happened to that picture album I made for him went.   Are my photos in a trash mountain somewhere?  An even though his ashes sit next to my bed.....I very often wonder where he went.  Shawn Joseph Ridgley.  Where have you been mister?  Where will you be next?

(Hey guys and girls....could you subscribe to this blog, or leave comments.  I want to know who is reading....I get a lot of hits and would love to hear what you think:)

The Drive

---

THE BEGINNING

The Summer of 1999, which was an experiment in "how hard, how fast, how intense", was my true adolescence.  I pounded life with body butter, brown skin and started to really learn who NSR really was.  I was sharply out of a chaotic and dangerous three year relationship.  In those early years, I was notorious for being able to make a person feel as unimportant as a leap year.  My insecurities were masked by a sharp tongue and fast brain (yes  bitches, things have changed).  I say this to preface what happened with Mr. P.

Mr. P - The subject of this post.

The bars had closed and I'd met Mr. P. on the Rehoboth Beach Sidewalk.  He was a year younger than I, same height, and in looking back - my ideal physical mate.  We walked on the Boardwalk, drunkenly, and held hands.  Mist came off the ocean and the quiet of a beach town was permeating our cells.

As I got to know more of him it became clear he was struggling emotionally.  I could tell.  I'm sure when I started to witness that, I internalized it and started to get protective of myself (knowing how I was back then).  I asked rather abruptly what was going on?   and out it came.  He was going thru some very difficult things.  And that version of Nathan wasn't dealing with that kind of thing - empathy wasn't one of my greater talents.

Fast forward to the next day.  I'm laying on the beach all by myself, early in the morning.  I was really really really into journal writing and The Tao of Pooh back then, so I'm sure that's what I was doing.  I began to hear three people talking.  One of them saying how much of a "fucking asshole" this guy from last night was.  He went on to say how rude and totally disrespectful the dude was.  Some other choice words followed.  I looked over and it was Mr P.  He was talking about me, unaware that I was right next to him.  I very purposefully stood up, "Good Morning Mr. P," and gathered my belongings.

---

THE MIDDLE

Every year, Kevin and I would go to Provincetown, MA with our dear friends Bob and Dave.  We would drive up with our dogs and spend a week in paradise.  I think each of us defined that paradise differently each year we went.  This year, in August 2010, my definition of that paradise was also a metaphor for fear and anxiety like I'd never known.  Two days into it my mother telephoned to tell me that she had breast cancer, I got the call while I was at Cafe Heaven.  Prior to that call I'd wanted to buy engagement rings while we were there in PTOWN.  Kinda of like when straight folks want to have a baby to save their marriage, the ring gesture was in that same vein.  But it was clear, if either Kevin or I could find a way out, be brave enough to end our 10 years together, we were going to do it.  

In any event, that week turned very quickly into a week of alcoholic stupors, abuse and cheating.  It was our own personal hell.  My drinking was off the hook.  Kevin's lack of concern for anyone but himself was as evident as the tattoo "me me me" affixed to his forehead.  One of the last days there Kevin texted me from Tea Dance.  The problem was that the text was not meant for me, it was meant for the kid he'd been fucking all week long without me knowing.  And the text was about me.  

Later that night I was at the A house, standing outside just taking it all in.  I looked at the guy standing next to me.  Really ? No fucking shit.  WOW.

It was Mr. P.  I can't explain the electricity that went through my body at that time.  FIRE.  We were 10 years older...life had taken us through so many rings of fire but neither of us looked burned.  We talked and I smiled hard.  It didn't last long because my friends showed up, and well....so did Kevin.  I remember looking at him - Mr. P, in his eyes, wondering.....what if?  Do you forgive me?  I didn't mean to be insensitive at the time, I just didn't know myself. 

Kevin and I broke up not soon after we got back from that week in Paradise.  Not soon after, I placed a Missed Connections ad for Mr. P in Boston.  I never heard a squeak and he was cataloged into that special place for would-be Princes.

---

THE NOW

At 7 am this morning,  I woke up in Boston..............next to Mr. P.  

The story itself is one of romance untold.  After all this time, we find one another......16 years in the making.  It should end happily ever after.  For the love of God, it's a fucking Nicholas Sparks novel.

I was in Boston for a work conference of sorts this past weekend.   Fate took hold and we began to talk to each other without knowing who each of us was......I finally put it together and realized this was him.  This man I'd carried this strange flame for.  We spent Saturday night together, cuddled on his couch, tangled in each other. Woke up Sunday on the left side of his bed, with sun cracking thru.  A lot of talking, laughing and texture happened. Also present was the ominous fact that despite the serendipity of it all, the barriers for us are too great.  Distance and his drive to further his own business make a predictable ending for the breathe of life that I felt. He talked about the walls that go up when matters of the heart might pierce into him, about being too emotional/vulnerable without those walls and that someway, in us meeting again, those walls were taking formation.  I talked about realizing that I want to find my cowboy, and breaking down whatever walls I've constructed.

To say that something bigger than either of us draws us to one another is a little too obvious.  I can't pretend to know how he truly feels about me at this point, but I can tell you, I left Boston this morning with a very heavy heart and a relevant dose of loss.  He looked at me as I got in my car and said "Don't be sad Nathan".  As Boston, and P, became a speck in my rear view mirror I put on Florence + the Machine's "Between Two Lungs" and let it flow.  (a small victory for me was waiting till I drove away to let the first tear fall:)

I realized many a thing on my drive back to NYC.  It's been far too long since I've felt warmth on my skin that had the power of all the armies of the world stoking that fire.  I've been living in this nether world of numb.  I laid  awake in his bed last night, at times watching his skin and feeling so at odds.  Here I was, with this man who made me feel things I'd long since forgotten, yet I couldn't enjoy it because of it's limitedness.  Because I wanted it all.  

The way it feels, all safe and sound.

I'll find it.  

It'll fit.

 I can't NOT have that.  Mr. P, me  with all my heart strings dangling..........it woke me up again.  Although he is once again tucked away into his unforeseen spot,  the lesson has not faded.  Nor has that drug like feeling. 

He just texted me.  "How was your drive?"

After 16 years Philip....the drive, the drive was exhausting.

THE BLOG HAS MOVED

it's a new dawn
it's a new day.


http://natelyandtheworld.squarespace.com/

The Dealer

I ran the 2013 NYC Marathon.  The reasons I ran it were extensive, the root of it all being that it allowed me to feel a sense of purpose.  I sure couldn't figure out how to stop crying about life, but I could reason a way to train for a marathon and try to escape that life.  I ran for Sloane Kettering Cancer Center.  The original choice to do it felt very easy, in hindsight I realize the motivation to do so was somewhat complex.

In any event, if you've ever done that particular Marathon, despite it being 26.2 miles.......... it goes by in a flash.  One of my dear friends, Gretchen, told me in advance that I needed to really focus on the sites and sounds around me while paying attention to my pace.  I tried so hard to do just that, but not knowing the route and the constant jockeying you have to do around other runners made it really difficult to "take it all in".  I'm not sure I failed at it, but when it ended and I was walking to meet my mom and friends I'd already decided in my mind that I would be doing it again the next year to really experience it to the fullest.  Little did I know that would be an impossible feat. 

When I moved to Philadelphia with my ex-boyfriend in 2001, our relationship endured many fractures and was something we both had to work VERY hard at maintaining.  It was about that time I began running.  My childhood was rife with asthma so I never really got into running.  The passion took shape slowly here in Philadelphia.  I started small, could not even run 3 miles.  I did many 10 mile races and I think a total of 7 Half Marathons.  My first full Marathon was in Philadelphia in 2010, which was painfully exacted at an extended time due to injuries.  Finally, after a few more halfs I came to 2013 and NYC.

The last year of my life has been focused on dealing with chronic pain due to the erosion of one of the discs in my lower back.  I have not, and will not, rely on any pain medication for this.  I've had 5 procedures in that time to help with the pain.  In December I had a procedure that made a difference.  I suddenly began to feel well enough to start back at the gym and this huge, heavy dread was lifted.  

I am being given a chance at reinvention.  I stopped eating grains.  I go to acupuncture, yoga and I attempt to meditate on the state of my physical health on a daily basis.  I began a workout program that is 16 weeks long.  I can't describe the feeling of being physically not well and then consequently the gift of when you feel better.  It's like taking a great big gulp of air, before going under water for a long time.  When I started to be able to put on a pair of socks without a small yelp, that's when it felt like I came crashing thru the water's surface from below.....breathing gratitude and hope for further recovery.  I can't do a lot still, but my body is being reimaged, as is my mental health.

It's Spring now.  People are out running, breathing their pace and footsteps with measured happiness and motivation.  Soon it'll be shirtless boys on Kelly Drive heaving and sweating....ugh.  If you only knew the struggle I had when I see them.  
I am not going to be running again.  Ever.  I'm just not able to.  When I do, my vertebrae crash into one another because the disc that allows that kind of motion is not there anymore.  It hurts.  A lot.  

Anyway.  These people running and passing me on the sidewalk.  I want to trip them.  Or I want them to sprain their ankle.  I want it to rain, so it's not good weather to run..........................Well, that's a three second thought that gets automated.  Of course I don't want anyone to get hurt or for it to rain.  Of course I want everyone to love it as much as I did, and to get life from it.  I really do.  But......why can't I?  Why does this one thing I love so much have to be something I can never access again ?  

It's life.  That's why.  The Grand Dealer throws the cards of Fortune and Strife without even making sure it makes any sense.  And it's true, some people seem to get lots of the good cards.  Others seem to get a shit hand, even when the deck is shuffled and doled out over and over again.  I'm somewhere in the middle.  I'm taking my time with not gambling as much of it all at once, like I used to.  This whole issue with my back and the emotional distress it has caused me has taught me a great deal about myself.  My resiliencies have never really been in question, but this has been a different beast all together.  I've hated it with every ounce of my body.....and  I miss my running self.  I miss him a lot.  And I think about him, at the very least, all day long.

All of this though, my post today, is not about what I've lost in myself. 

I ran the NYC Marathon in 2013.  My time was 3:45.  Three hours and forty five minutes.  A time I can forever be proud of.  I ran it alone.  My mom and Aunt Karen were there on the race course.  My Aunt Kathi was at home, fighting Lung Cancer and various other Cancers that ran wild through her.  I raised over $3500 for Cancer Research.  I called my Aunt Kathi when I was done.  I sent her the photo of the orange jersey I wore, with her name on it.  She passed away this last summer.  I was damn lucky to have been able to run that fucking race.  I know I made her proud.  I know my mom is beyond proud of me for that race, and I thank god she survived Breast Cancer.  It's all relative.  Our fortunes and our beat downs.

I ran the NYC marathon, and it was a helluva way to end my running career.  So I'm sorry for being so gruff, but fuck you.  I've got this.....AND I promise to be waiting at the finish line cheering you on when you cross.

Nately

Meet me in the future later

A FILM BY KEVIN MORORSKY WRITTERN & DIRECTED BY KEVIN MOROSKY MUSIC BY JAMES GOODHEAD PART OF THE CONVERSE #MADEBYYOU PROJECT

To fully digest this post, you have to watch the video above.  It's pure beauty.  So please, take the 8 minutes and watch it.  You'll be happy you did.  I promise.  And if you aren't, you have no business being here :)  The first parts of it have no sound, so just watch and breathe. Now, on to my post.

It's St. Patrick's Day.   10pm.  

I'm most likely not going to post this tonight, as I really have to digest the day before I decide to provide an appropriate accounting of it, and the consequent impact it made.

After the second guy today, I made the decision to blog about it.  Then, while at the gym, the third one hit my phone.  Three men today, all of varying presence in my past, reached out to me.  Men whom I had relegated to the Land of No More.  This is also layered on top of the fact that a fourth entity from about three years ago became part of my present life as well.  A welcome re-entry.

All of this is not surprising I suppose.  But a few days ago I watched the video I posted here, the concept being something I think about...... A LOT.  

It is my firm belief that people intersect our lives for reasons that we can always assign a purpose to.  The bigger part, I've come to understand, is that sometimes they come at the very wrong time.  I lament this often, feeling like a potential love interest came knocking when I was interested elsewhere, or my feelings for them may not have been known to me.  Or the converse of this being that I was pursuing someone, and he just wasn't feeling me at the time.  I've found a lot of this is timing. Timing is everything.   I often think about it being subject to serendipity, fate or some other cosmic cog that, at the end of the day, we have no control over.  I've been on both ends of this dynamic force, and while I used to be saddened sometimes, I now think to myself "you never know what the future holds....take a breathe and do what you feel is best"

The past couple months (actually January and part of February....less so now) I've been dating more than I ever thought possible.  In full disclosure, my feeling has been that the more of the population I sample, the more likely it is that I will engage with The Right One.  While this has been a very frustrating and difficult period for reasons that most single people can understand (direct blows to one's self esteem and feeling like I'm going to die alone), it has also created an awareness of things within myself that I'm not sure I ever knew about myself.  It's been such a unforeseen period of self discovery, I'm very grateful for that surprise gift.

On to the meat of this entry.  The three communications that occurred today all came via text. Out Of Left Field, The Deep Blue, and A Galaxy Far Far Away.  There is no legitimate way I would have predicted this.  Three previous entanglements, and on the same day....it's surreal to me.  (and what is more fun to think about  is that each of them are gorgeous, as is the man who resurfaced a few months ago.  I'm not talking gorgeous based upon my preferences.  All of them have abs I can point to and count, smoldering faces and impressive swagger.  It's no joke.  #fun #thingsthatmakeyougo.......) Anyway, I digress.  

I'm not saying I believe any one of these men are going to be anything further in my life.  Hell, I'm not even disclosing if I responded to their texts.  What I am saying is that Life Is Beautiful and Mysterious.  We never know when that person who waited on us in that restaurant is going to be your husband.  We don't know if the guy you spent that snow day with will recycle around two years from now saying you never left his thoughts.  We just don't know where the day will take us.  And we certainly won't know how the day will come to completion.  
 

I woke up today and went to yoga at 7am.   As I did my first downward dog I had no idea, at 11pm that very same day, those three men would put themselves in my orbit again. And please, don't get me wrong, it very well may be that each of them should stay in the past, but it may be opposite of that too.  I'm particularly tentative about feeling hope or committing to any one person being my next breakfast buddy, I've learned that the yellow brick road is winding, super suggestive to interference, and mostly just kind of fades into a pleasant field or dead end.  And there is That One.  Who fits better than the rest.

Meet me in the back.   Meet me in the future later.  Meet me when the docket is clear.  It would be nice to see you around.  I'm glad that you are happy and things are good for you now. That night was really special, even if for just the night.  I remember what your skin smelled like.  I liked the way you held me and sang quietly into my ear.  Since we last talked I went through a tough period only to find myself in a better place.  I started dating someone and you got back with your ex.

All things we say when fate leads us to one another unexpectedly.  I've learned to wake up and allow the day to be filled with wonder and unforeseen direction.  

Thank you for letting me know I'm on your mind and that you always wondered what would have been.  I'll pay it forward.  I promise.

Much -

Nately

stand down or show down

You see.  I've had this itch.

It's not the wintry restlessness that you may attribute it to.  It's bigger. 

It's not need for bigger/better/harder.  It's bigger than that.

It's not due to any feeling of sadness or emptiness.  It's bigger.

I feel things in my bloodstream, pulsing and burning through me.  It's been 5 years since my life had any drastic changes (minus the grief I experienced).  My life has been tempered and unmoving, it's parts changing, but never elevating.  Along with that has come a certain amount of stability.  Stability also brings complacency.  

There has been movement in my life, prompted by something out of my control.  I have until December 2015 to turn my world upside down and make some big changes.  The catalyst for this change is an unforeseen variable that creates fear and tension, but it's time.  

I've been waiting for something to change, and now an outside force has made my path more evident.  

Starting a new media interface is something I have been tossing about in my brain.  I've not had the direct motivation to do so, but woke up last week and knew I had to.  I had to close out a chapter for good.  Open a new one, for the better.

The past is the past.  It forms my future.   The past is with me when I listen to a new song.  The past is with me when I meet a new person.  And the past. Is the past.  I won't say I will keep it closed, or won't talk about it.  But I'm not longer holding it in my left palm, reading it's contents as I once did.  

I've got new worlds to discover.  I've got new colors to feel.  

My hope for this website is to turn it into something more palatable for more entities.  I've got plenty people who follow the edges and inner caverns of my mind/heart/soul.  And this feeds me.  My creativity in writing, in expression.....it feeds and frees me at the same time.  So I will continue to do what I do.

I will continue to find what kind of man I am.  And I will do so in your presence.  With your smiles. With my snark.  With this site.  And a little bit of love.

Thank you for being here.  Thank you for coming.  Thank you....for you.  and stay tuned.

Much -

Nately  xoxox

Meridith and Annie: My top 10 + 5 songs for Cocktail Hour at Your Wedding

Request from Meridith:

"Name your top 10 appropriate songs to play during cocktail hour"

Mixed mood.  Fun.
Easy enough, right?

Back in the winter of 1995 I moved from my undergraduate town of Plattsburgh, NY to Lancaster, PA.
My father had remarried, gotten sober, and moved to Lancaster while I was in college.  I was still only experimenting with guys....oh shit, I digress.  This post isn't about that.

It's about the girl, MY GIRL.  I met her on one of my first few times going out to a gay bar in Lancaster.   Well, to be precise, it was the morning after I went out to that gay bar.

I woke up with some guy named Kenny, on his living room floor.
He announced,  "Hey Meridith, this is Nathan, " as she stepped over me on her way out to work, or something like that.
In the following weeks and months I'd run into her a lot, until eventually we started hanging out and going out at night together.

Our love affair as best friends began in Lancaster and I have no idea where it ends.

She's still in my soul, still in a lot of moments in my life, even though I don't reach out to let her know it.  I think she thinks of me too, in moments she knows I would appreciate...that we would appreciate.  She knows me...I know her.  I've always, since the day I met her, thought of her as my sister.  I have no siblings, but if I did, I know it would be her.
We both have big eyes and deep thoughts.  Siblings.

When she moved to Baltimore, I moved there not long after her.  When she met her then girlfriend, I was there by her side.  When they broke up, Meridith moved into my dining room turned lesbian bedroom.  On New Year's Eve 2000, The Millennium, when everyone was fleeing NYC, we went up and went to the Roxy.  When we fell....we picked each other back up.....sometimes though, life doesn't mean for us to get up right away and sometimes the best we could do was sit down next to each other and cry our faces off.

Time has forged it's path with us, and we have shed lovers, jobs, pets, and fears.  We try to do our best to be as close as we know we should be...but it gets hard and new fears, pets, jobs and lovers sprout up.

And here she is.  Getting married.   To the woman, Annie, who has finally fit into her the way that feels just perfect.  The right balance, the right beauty...the right one.  It is quite literally perfect.

I always had dreams of being her best man, or some version of that.  Alas, she is "heading in a different  artistic direction" with her wedding and it isn't meant to be.  She knows me though, and I got a text tonight asking for some songs for her cocktail hour.  She knows music and Nathan.  Even though she isn't always on the same page with my music, she always gives it a try.

1.  Ho Hey by The Lumineers.  Because i see the townsfolk sitting around and chanting this in a mountain bar.  with lightning bugs, paper lanterns and a warm breeze.  And this vision reminds me of Meridith and Annie.


2.  Mirrors by Justin Timberlake.  Because i happen to sing this song beautifully and i love it when it's a sing along.  Kidding...but almost not kidding.  The words...if i were getting married, mirrors.



3. Express Yourself by Madonna.  Because everyone needs a little Madonna, and I've always pushed Mer Mer to express herself.  Even if she won't grab her crotch like Madonna.  oh wait...yeah she will :)


4.  Love Will Come To You by the Indigo Girls.  Because, no song has ever meant more at times in my life.  Because Love did come to Meridith.

5.  Oops...I Did It Again by Britney Spears.  Because I made Meridith listen to this, over and over and over and over.  And over.  As I made the world's most PERFECT mix tapes.  and it's Brit Brit.  I needed one Brit song.


6.  You & I (forever) by Jessie Ware.  Because this bitch.  And this video.  And this song are everything.  About love.  About making it together.  Forever.


7.  Ice Cream by Sarah McLachlan. Because I cried many long nights to Meridith with Miss McLachlan as the soundtrack.  And this song...I believe Meridith and Annie found their own very special flavor of ice cream.  Cheers ladies.


8.   To Make You Feel My Love  by Trisha Yearwood.  Because we are getting everyone in the mood for love and a good love story.  and this song should just about do it.  to anyone.  you cold hearted bitches out there.


9.  Viva La Vida by Coldplay.  Because my feet tap.  and he's singing about ruling the world. drums and revolutionaries.  and i think about gay weddings.  bells ringing...and it's a god damn revolution.  and I am into that.  Let's make it dramatic, it took long enough for us to get here.


10.  XO by Beyonce.   Because it makes sense.  For any of us.


plus 5

11.  Crack the Shutters by Snow Patrol  This song, is a lovers song.  It belongs in the light of morning.  listen to the words and you will fall in step.

12.  A Thousand Years by Christina Perri  This one breaks my heart.  Literally breaks me in two.  It was the end of a week vacation in a false paradise and it played while he packed his bags.  In any event, I think it one of the most beautfiul love songs I've ever heard.  I can't listen to it really anymore, but knew it had to be up here.


13.  Drumming Song by Florence and the Machine  High drama.  If you watch this video, and I recommend you all do, you will see what I mean.  And I think this list could use some drama.

14.  The Edge of Glory or You and I by Lady Gaga.  They are both the same song to me.  High celebration, dusty roads and real people.  As strange as that may sound for Gaga, I love these songs.

15.  Make it to Me by Sam Smith.  His voice.  All of our hearts.  Get it Sam.


This woman, has shown me unconditional love and friendship like no other.  I would do anything for her.  Anything.  The least is to essay the love I have through some songs and some pieces of myself that go directly in the light and love of the marriage she is about to start.
It may not be the exact vibe you may want to create.  But I had a helluva fun time putting it together....for my friend's cocktail hour, with the knowledge that it isn't MY cocktail hour.  And I can't wait.