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Breaking point and release...

I don’t think I would mind too much seeing this summer end. It hasn’t really been a great one. That’s kind of understating it. In fact I think it’s fair to say it’s been a shitty season. Last week, in particular, was the shit icing on the shit cake. A lot of shit fell apart last week, I got dunk and opened my big fat moth, two of the girls had a falling out, Raye lost her job. Ugh. It was a bitch of a week, one in which the evenings were spent either escaping with heavily spiked lemonade on the deck with Raye (& others, like Dorothy, Cathy, Ryan or the neighbors) or hiding in my room with classic Dr Who (I’m catching up on older ones before I go to BBC Television Centre). Turning off again, as seems to be the way I’ve been dealing with the drama this summer.


The saving grace of the week was Saturday. Samuel & David’s place in Leshi, on the lake, turned out to be a lovely little retreat. Raye, Dorothy and I walked down there. It was a lovely day. We went swimming in the pool. We sun-bathed on the dock. We relaxed and I made sure all the shit that was clouding our psyche didn’t come out. If talk of drama came up, I nipped it in the bud, pretty quickly. Sam & David made a fabulous diner of mashed potatoes, salmon pasta, asparagus, and flank steak. Plus there was music, a pretty sunset and the on going imbibing of alcohol.Really it was just what I needed. Getting away and relaxing w/out leaving the comfort of Seattle (in fact, enjoying it's splendor). Horay for my gay boy and David. Some drama followed at the end of the night, but thanks to the tequila & blood orange juice cocktails, I was blissfully oblivious until it was brought to my attention.

Me, Samuel & Cathy. The hoodie not the most flattering thing in the word, but it was chilly on the dock in the evening.

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November 2017


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