Author: Kevin drmonologues

While most were celebrating father’s day yesterday, my family was mourning the death of my dad’s brother Herbert. Affectionately known as Herbie, my uncle died Saturday evening in Philadelphia. My mother knocked on my door to tell me before laying in her bed and succumbing to tears. My father retreated to the garage (his man den) in silence. The silence was palpable.

This was not a sudden event. Uncle Herbie had been in the hospital for a few months. Still, my aunt  had been unable to accept that he was slipping away. Who could blame her. Uncle Herbie and his wife Bertha, known affectionately as Dolly, had been together close to 70yrs. They have 6 kids, 8 grand kids, and 2 great grand kids and counting. I can only imagine the grief and sorrow that she is going through right now. 

Uncle Herbie and aunt Dolly are my favorite uncle and aunt. Partly because they are the ones I got to see and know the most growing up. But, I just liked them more than the others. I also like to think that of all of their nieces and nephews I was their favorite too. I was the baby in the group after all. I loved visiting them. They always made me breakfast every morning and would make really good dinners each night. My aunt’s potato salad is legendary. My favorite was cheese pie(also called ice box pie). Which is basically cream cheese, sugar, and/or sweetened condensed milk, and lemon zest put in a graham cracker crust and set in the refrigerator. They also made sure that when you left, you were sent on your way packed with pie, cookies, and other baked goodies for your trip home.

My aunt is just a fun person to be around and talk to. She loves good music, good food, good scotch, dancing, and is an amazing seamstress. One of my fondest childhood memories is when my mom and I took the train from Florida to Philly for a long weekend. It was right after Stevie Wonder’s ‘Hotter Than July’ album had come out and my aunt had just bought it. The whole time we were there, that record was played over and over with my aunt and mom singing along. To this day, I can’t here the songs ‘All I Do’, ‘Lately’, or ‘Happy Birthday’ without a smile coming to my face.

Of all of my dad’s siblings, uncle Herbie looks the most like him. Herbie was a lot like my dad in many ways, but always seemed way cooler. He was soft spoken, yet you always knew what he was thinking. And unlike with my father, I never felt uncomfortable or afraid to be left alone with him out of fear of what to talk about. He was easy to hold a simple conversation with. He also had an amazing sense of style. When he put on a suit to go to bible meetings or for other special occasions, he looked like he stepped out of a scene from Mad Men. Uncle Herbie was the black Don Draper.

They both had really close relationships with all of their kids. Their house in Philadelphia was always filled with people. My aunt made sure that they all got together for family dinners on a regular basis. Mostly at her house, but some times my cousins would host. I loved it when we would travel up from Florida to visit. It was the only time in my life that I actually had a sense of family. I remember being jealous of my cousins because they experienced all of that on a regular basis. I silently thought that after graduating high school I was going to move to Philadelphia and live with my uncle and aunt. Clearly, that didn’t happen.


The death of uncle Herbie has me filled with so many thoughts and emotions. I see how hard it’s hitting my parents. The four of them were really close. I’ve heard many stories of their fun times back when they all still lived in Brooklyn. I know this isn’t going to be easy for them. My father said that, even though he knew it was coming, it still hasn’t really sunk in yet. My mother cried for several hours Sat night. The worse part for them is that they won’t be able to attend the funeral. It’s really too far for my mother to travel with her health, and my father doesn’t want to leave her. 

I am also overcome with sadness because I won’t be able to attend myself. Financially I just can’t do it. Knowing that I won’t be able to be there for my aunt on that day brings tears to my eyes as I type this. I told my dad that he should try and go, even if for only a day; that my mother would be ok since I was there. But, he said no. They are at a point in their lives where they are never apart. He also feels that he is the only one that can really take care of her properly. So, I expect this week and the next few weeks to be really hard on them. It makes me really glad that I am back here with them during this time.


This also has me thinking about my parents remaining years. I can’t help but wonder how many years with them do I have left. Am I ready for it? Is one ever ready for such a thing? Are my parents affairs(wills, power of attorney, etc.) in order? How do I bring the topic up without becoming emotional? Is that even possible? I’m sure I’ll figure it out in the end. Right now, my main focus is to get through this mourning period for our family.

As I write this I have ‘Hotter Than July’ playing in the background. The song ‘Lately’ just finished and I am overcome with emotion as I think of how much my favorite uncle Herbie will be missed. R.I.P. uncle Herbie.

Every year on this day, America celebrates the many courageous men and women who have fought and are still fighting to protect this nation. On this day my thoughts are also on the season of summer. Even though the The Old Farmer’s Almanac lists the first day of summer 2011 as June 21st, I think most people regard the Memorial Day Holiday as the official start to summer. So, here I sit thinking about all things summer.

I think of summer festivals, outdoor concerts, picnics in the park, and back yard barbecues. I think of pool parties, rooftop stargazing, weekend beach getaways, and sunsets on the beach. I think of pretty girls laying out in skimpy bikinis catching some rays. I think of shirtless guys showing off their hot bodies as they toss a frisbee back and forth in the park. Actually, I just think of shirtless guys in general. 🙂 

When I think of summer, I think of barbecue chicken and ribs, corn on the cob,  ice cold sweet tea or fresh squeezed lemonade, summer squash, potato salad, and juicy watermelon. I think of meeting my friends for Saturday afternoon margaritas on the back patio of our favorite bar. I think of taking a stroll out on the busy summer city streets to people watch. I think of dancing the night away to the latest summer jams.

Every summer there’s a song that comes out that really defines that summer. Over the years there have been some really good ones. But, for me, the one that I keep going back to is the one that came out the summer of my high school graduation. In 1991 DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince (Fresh Prince know today simply as Will Smith) had the song ‘Summertime.’ I used to listen to this song over and over. It never got old for me. Even today that song and summer go hand and hand for me. 

All of these these things combined have created some of my best summer memories. So, what do you all think of when it comes to summer? I would love to hear your thoughts of summer. Please leave your comments. 

K

Today I read an article on Advocate.com where a high school senior and his boyfriend in Sanford, Maine were crowned prom king and queen. I find this story so interesting for many different reasons.

Maine is a relatively small state, population wise. It has a population of 1.3 million people. In comparison, the city of Brooklyn, NY has a population of 2.5 million. The city of Sanford, ME has a population of roughly 20 thousand. The high school I went to was shared by two neighboring towns with a combined population of roughly 12 thousand. So going by the numbers, Sanford is a relatively small town. I mention this because small towns haven’t always been known for their liberalness, open mindedness, or acceptance of gay diversity…even if it is located in a more liberal part of the country.

When I think back 20 years to my high school days in a small town, I don’t remember any openly gay students. Sure, there were those students that we all heard rumors about; but, no one certainly was out and proud. And, no one went to school dances or prom with their gay bf/gf. I asked a friend if he thought he could have been brave enough to be out in high school, taken his bf to prom, and have his friends vote them as prom king and queen. He said “maybe…if he was growing up now. Certainly not some 20 years ago.” I know I wouldn’t have been brave enough to do it. So what made the kids in this story and other stories like theirs able to do it? I believe it’s not one thing; but, a combination of things that allowed them to do. 

First, the gay rights movement has come a long way in 20 years.There have been recent high profile people that have come out as gay (Don Lemon, Jared Max, Rick Welts) or gay supporters (Charles Barkley, SF Giants). Plus, there’s the It Get’s Better Project. So, there’s definitely been a palpable shift in how people are viewing gay people in America. 

Another thing that has helped, is having a supportive family. The article didn’t talk about the parents; but, clearly the kids in the article and the kids attending that school had to have open minded parents. Parents who encourage their children to be their authentic selves and to accept others different from themselves. This is tremendous for young gay kids. If they can learn to be themselves at an earlier age, they will be able to grow up to become secure and self confident adults. They won’t have to deal with the personal internal anguish that I dealt with at that age.

Lastly, these kids had to be attending an open minded school. The school officials didn’t try and stop the gay kids from bringing a date to prom. Nor did they stop these kids from being voted prom king and queen(which is basically a popularity contest). The school officials provided a safe space for these young gay boys to come, be with their friends, and enjoy a fun night together with their friends. After I realized (in horror) that I was actually old enough to be the father of one of these kids, I started thinking about what I would want for my own kids. And, I would like to think that I would want nothing more  than for my kids to feel safe. Judging from the big smile on their faces, these kids felt safe.

It’s not just one thing or person that is going to permanently shift the way people view gays in the world. As with the kids in this article, it’s going to take a village…a global village to really make a permanent change. Are you part of that village?

The other night I was in the kitchen making dinner. My father was doing his usual nightly ritual in the garage. This ritual consists of sitting in his boxers and a bathrobe, watching tv. It’s become his own little man cave. Anyway, while I was making my dinner I heard him do something that was equally funny and sweet at the same time. 

First, let me just say that my parents have two phone lines in the house. One for regular calls, that rings in the kitchen and in their bedroom; and the other for the dsl in my room and in the garage. So rather than having my mother scream his name from upstairs, he just has her call him in the garage and tell him what she wants instead. Whenever I hear her phone him in the garage, I always giggle to myself.


On this particular night, he actually phoned her instead. After I started giggling to myself, I heard what the nature of his call was about. He had run across her favorite old movie on tv and wanted her to know so that she could turn her tv in the bedroom to watch it. The giggling stopped. I thought it was a very sweet gesture. One that I would never have expected him to make.


Growing up I always considered my parents relationship to be tenuous because they argued a lot. I always thought that they were together because of the children and because they didn’t believe in divorce. I don’t ever remember my father making any kind of demonstratively romantic gesture towards my mother. I don’t know if it’s because they’ve both mellowed out with age and are nicer to each other; or, if it’s just because I choose to only remember the negative things about my parents that makes this gesture so astonishing. Either way, on this night It was this one little thing that caught my attention and made me begin to really see my father in a different light. 


It made me stop and think about the way I think about my parents. I’ve been resentful and holding grudges about a lot of different things. But, maybe if I try and look past all the negative issues that I hold against them; I might actually see something deeper and subtle that my resentment and grudge holding has kept me blinded from. It made me realize that your loved ones really aren’t looking for some sort of grand gesture to show them that you love them. It’s the little things that make the difference. It’s the little thing of offering to help my father clean the garage before being asked. It’s the little thing of popping my head into my mother’s room a few times a day and talking with her. It’s the little things that really say, I love you. 

I still have issues with them. But, it’s the little things that are helping me get past them.

I have a confession to make. I am completely obsessed with YouTube. Actually, it’s more like an addiction. It’s not quite as strong as my addictions to cupcakes, ice cream, or butter cream icing; but, it’s pretty close. Once I log on, I can easily spend hours lost in the YouTube black hole.


First it started with just going on to listen to music or watch music videos that I could later post to Facebook. Even better is when you look over to the side and YouTube recommends other songs by that artist or similar songs by other artists. But, once you start clicking on the recommendations you discover that the recommendations also have recommendations. And, that is how the spiral into the black hole begins. One minute you’re looking up Mariah Carey’s ‘Emotions’ and then 2 hours later you find yourself listening to the Bay City Rollers ‘Saturday Night’. But, this is what makes it all so fun and addictive. Once you start clicking away you never know where you will end up.

Last summer I read an article online that mentioned a gay story line in an Argentine telenovela called ‘Botineras.’ Well of course the article included a YouTube clip of the storyline. All I can say is; HOT, gay, Argentine footballers in love. My interest was officially peaked. Now, almost a year later, I am completely obsessed with gay romance stories on YouTube. Because of that one clip, I discovered an entire YouTube community of fans dedicated to international soap operas with gay love story lines. These fans have their own YouTube channels where they upload clips(with english subtitles) of current episodes from various soaps in Germany, Australia, France, Spain, Argentina, the UK, and several other countries.

The most popular of these stories hails from Germany. It’s the story of Christian and Oliver from Germany’s Verbotene Liebe (Forbidden Love in English). This story line dates back to late 2007 when Christian and Oliver first met.  Christian was a straight, aspiring, young boxer. Ollie was a bi guy who had been working on a cruise ship and moved back to town. The two had mutual friends and soon Ollie moved in with Christian and his other roomies. Of course, Christian didn’t know Ollie had an affinity for German “sausage.” Soon after, Christian figures it out and then all of the turmoil surrounding Christian’s attraction for and eventually falling in love with Ollie(cheesy I know). The pair got married last year in September. This storyline is being followed by thousands and thousands of people worldwide who anxiously wait for the newest uploaded clip of them.


From here I discovered the stories of Lenny and Carsten, Dennis and Roman, Christian and Syed, Aaron and Jackson, John Paul and Craig, John Paul and Keiron (John Paul kinda got around), Ste and Brendon, and Geoff and Pavel. There are also story arcs just surrounding single gay characters trying to find love, like Simon and Lolo. And, this is where the addiction started. Each day I eagerly logged on to see which stories have been uploaded. It’s like waiting for another hit of a drug. If more than a day or two goes by I get very anxious as I don’t like missing what’s happening(can you say withdrawal?). When that happens, I usually end up watching old clips over again. It’s kinda like looking for that half smoked joint you stashed away in a pocket of a suitcase at the bottom of your closet fora rainy day; or, when you really needed a fix(so I’ve been told).


I admit, I originally started watching because each story featured two hot guys and there were lots of steamy kisses and love scenes. But, then I got hooked into the actual story plots. These stories covered coming out, gay bashing, assisted suicide, gay marriage, monogamy, gay adoption, and just the good old fashioned soap opera drama. 

I know some of my friends are reading this and thinking, “he needs to get a life.” I’m sure others have already started planning my intervention. Actually, that’s an intervention I wouldn’t mind showing up for. Since no actual drugs are involved, I’m sure that there will be plenty of drinking at the intervention. But seriously, I know it sounds a little over the top. But, in the scheme of things it could be much worse. Some people turn to over boozing, hardcore drugs, and other vices to escape the pressures and stresses of the world. Rather than chasing hookers, blow, and booze; I make a daily escape to the world of YouTube. The only thing better than that is escaping with a cupcake with butter cream icing and ice cream(mmmm…butter cream). Thankfully I play a lot of tennis or else I’d be writing this from the Biggest Loser campus.

Well, it’s time for me to visit my friends Christian, Olliver, Ste and Brendon today(and get my daily hit). In the mean time, I would love to hear what your secret obsession is. 

K

I’ve watched a lot, and I mean a lot, of gay themed movies over the years. Some good, a lot bad. There is one particular recurring plot line that I have constantly bristled at. Perhaps you’ve seen one or two like it. It’s the one where the title character, we’ll call him Ashley, has been living in a big city (usually NYC, LA, or San Francisco) and suddenly finds himself having to return to a place that he thought he escaped from years ago…his hometown. Usually his hometown is the complete opposite of his current living location. Most of the time it’s some small, conservative, rural town in the south, midwest, or even Alaska.

Ashley returns back to his hometown after being gone for at least 10 years and has to do so because of a death, a sickness in the family, or because of aged parents. Once he’s back in town he has to confront his past and the people he left behind that he really tried hard to forget. He has to face up to his personal demons that he tried so hard to run from. And once he’s back and has to face everyone as an out gay man, he braces for the rejection that he tried so hard to avoid by leaving the town in the first place.

Ashley was only intending on staying in town for a short time. Returning back to the city as soon as the funeral is over, or sick loved one is out of the hospital, or he’s certain that his aging parents are doing okay without him. Except it’s never that simple. Usually it’s because an estate has to be handled, the sick loved one has to be cared for further, or the aging parents need additional help. In Ashley’s case we’ll say it’s because his aging parents actually need his help. This of course is only supposed to take a few more weeks.

This is where the plot thickens. What was supposed to be only a few weeks turns into a few months. During these few months Ashley has come in contact with a lot of people from his past. It turns out that only a small few reject him for being gay. In fact, most welcome him with open arms. The biggest problem for them is not that he’s gay. The biggest problem is that he stayed away so long, with little or no contact, making them feel rejected. So during these few months Ashley works on rebuilding friendships and making new ones. And surprise, surprise, he even reconnects with his high school crush who was “straight” back then but not anymore. They rebuild their friendship and start dating, both knowing that Ashley has to return back to the city soon.

Fast forward a month or two. It’s now time for Ashley to leave and he doesn’t want to go. In the last few months he’s come to some harsh realizations about himself. One being that his life in the city wasn’t really going all that great. Also, for a long time Ashley felt like his life was missing something; like a missing piece of a puzzle. And now, at this moment, he feels like he found the missing piece and feels complete and whole for the first time in his life. He’s also come to a mutual respect and understanding with his parents; something that he didn’t have before. Ashley also realizes that he is in love for the first time in his life. So, with all of this new found realization and enlightenment, Ashley decides to stay put in his hometown. He moves in with the love of his life and lives happily ever after. The End.


To be completely honest, the reason I have always found this plot line to be a little off putting is because I was afraid of becoming Ashley. I rejected the notion that one day I would find myself back in my hometown in Florida and suddenly realize that I should stay and settle down there. This is in no way meant to offend any of my friends that did settle down here and are doing well. It’s just that as a child I was always drawn to the big city and always dreamed of traveling the world. So, I have rejected anything that I thought would keep me from realizing those dreams. But, trust me, the irony is not lost on me as I write this from my parents house in Florida.

So, here’s the thing. I’ve kinda become Ashley with a few differences. I am back in Florida at my parents but not in my hometown. I didn’t come back because my parents were sick or because they needed me. I came back because I was in a downward spiral career wise, emotionally, and financially. I came back because I needed them. But, like Ashley, I initially had plans for my stay to be short and sweet. Get in, get out, and get back to the city. But, after a month and a half, I’ve come to some realizations about myself.


I really wasn’t as happy as I could have been in San Francisco. It had nothing to do with the city or the incredible friends that I had there. It had to do with me. Me not having a job for a year and sinking further into a financial crisis. I was borderline depressed and always emotionally stressed. San Francisco is an amazing city but I wasn’t enjoying it like I should. I was watching my life fall apart and I didn’t really do anything to stop it. So, I removed myself from the turmoil and came back to Florida. It’s amazing how much calmer you become when you don’t have to worry about paying rent.


Coming here I thought I had a plan. But, in reality, I honestly don’t know what I’m doing. I haven’t known what I was doing for a long time. I now have the time to figure it out. Granted, I have made a few frantic phone calls to friends stating that I can’t handle this and I want to go back. Fortunately my friends knew to calm me down and helped me to realize that will get better. As one of my best friends reminds me every day, “San Francisco isn’t going anywhere. It’s always going to be there. Your friends are always going to be there. Get a hold of yourself, calm your nerves, and really think about what you want to do with your life.” It’s the verbal equivalent of slapping a hysterical person in the face. Sometimes I think he wishes he could reach through the phone and actually slap me. I’m glad he can’t. I think he would enjoy it way too much.

Something else I’ve realized is that my parents also need me here. It really is hard to see them in this aged state. The feisty, fire tempered, tell you off in a heartbeat mother I had growing up is starting to become a fading memory. It’s still inside of her and occasionally comes out, but it’s not the same. She’s almost 74 and doesn’t really leave the house except for doctors appointments. Her arthritis is so bad that she can barely walk. It prevents her from being in one position for too long or her joints lock up and become really painful to move them. She stays mostly in her bedroom and alternates between lying in her bed and sitting on the side of her bed to keep her knees from locking up. She’s clearly depressed, at times, thinking about her life’s regrets and how her life is now. I’m also saddened about how her life is now.


My father is almost 75 and gets around much better than my mother. He still drives and is still pretty mobile despite his arthritis. His health, like my mother’s, has declined drastically in the last 5 years. His once youthful face seems soured and a little hardened. The once salt and pepper hair is now completely white. When I look into his face I can almost see every regret he has about his life written on it. He also is dealing with the fact that of his 3 remaining siblings, 2 have Alzheimer’s disease and the other is dying in a Philadelphia hospital. 


Being around all of this has strangely given me some perspective. My life could be a lot worse than it is. I also have a lot of time to turn it around and get my life together. Even though I initially came here for me, I’ve realized that coming here wasn’t all about me. My parents need me right now…just as much, if not more, than I need them. I can see the shift in our relationship. It’s becoming a better and much calmer one. I’ve also realized that I have become Ashley in movie of my life. Although, I am not dating nor falling in love with a high school crush; I have reconnected with old friends. Thanks to Facebook, just about everyone back in my hometown has friended me and knows I’m gay.

Getting my shit together is going to take some time. There’s a quote that I’ve been hearing a lot lately, “You’re never too old to become what you were meant to be.” Another variation is, “You’re never too old to become what you want to be.” Either way, I still have time to figure it all out. I still reject the notion that I will end up settling down here. I’m a city mouse and love the big city too much to do that. But, I do know that for right now, I am where I am supposed to be. I can tell that I’m really close to finding that missing puzzle piece. 

I’ve changed the title of my movie. It’s now, ‘The Journey Back Home: The Kevin Ashley Rose Story’ and I can’t wait to see how it ends.

So, it’s been a little over 2 weeks since I’ve been back in Florida and I am starting to settle in a bit. My parents and I haven’t killed each other and I’m starting to get used to the humidity again. The biggest shock to my system has been the low visibility of gays in the area. I moved here from the homo motherland, also known as, San Francisco. You couldn’t swing a Gucci tote in The City without hitting some queen in the back of the head…literally.

I thought I spotted a lesbian couple my second day here. Although, I haven’t seen them since  the initial sighting and I’m starting to wonder if they were really lesbians or just a couple of girls with bad butch hair cuts. I wonder if this means that my gaydar(it is a real thing) is already starting to wane.

For example, I was playing tennis last week and 2 courts over from me were 3 guys rallying together. For a moment, I thought one of them was a friend of Gaga (gay dictionary, see: friend of Dorothy). I swore I heard him let out a couple of squeals when he hit a ball into the net or outside the lines. But, with me not exactly trusting my gaydar at the moment I was a little hesitant to say anything. And here’s why: 1)In SF you don’t get hit in the face if you mistakenly think a dude is gay. The straight guys in SF are so metro and hipstery they would just laugh it off and try and fix you up with their gay best friend. 2)In Ormond Beach I’m not that sure you won’t get hit in the face. I’ve made it 37 and a half years preserving this gorgeous face of mine and I’m not about to risk it now.

After I heard the squeals on court last week, I called up my friend Rich and shared with him my thoughts on the situation. He suggested that I should have chatted them up and talked about Martina, as in Martina Navratilova, and watched for a reaction. This, of course, had us both in a fit of giggles. But, maybe he was right.  Do I need a code word?

So, here’s what I imagined. I walk up to the group of guys on the tennis court and start the following conversation. Me:”Hi there! I’m Kevin. I just moved here from San Francisco and I’m looking for some people to hit with(said with big smile).” Them:”Hi. Okay(said with blank faces).” Me:”Who’s your favorite tennis player? Mine is Martina. You know, Martina Navratilova(said slowly and deliberately). Do you like Martina(big smile and a wink)?” Them:”Ummm…she’s good. We prefer McEnroe, Sampras and Federer more(said with confused faces).” Me:”Oh, I like male players too! That Fernando Verdasco is so hot…I mean good(said with a worried look on face).” Them:”Umm…yeah, we have to go(said with weirded out faces).”  Me:”Whew!!! I get to walk home with my face intact (said silently in my head). YAY!!!”

I Guess I’ll have to wait for my gaydar to re adjust to my new location. Until then, I know what I won’t be doing. I won’t be going around town walking up to people I suspect might be gay whispering “Psssst! Pssssssst! Gaga….Lady Gaga (Martina only works for the tennis courts).” I will, however, remain open to making new friends. And it doesn’t matter if they are gay, straight, or have bad butch haircuts. All I care about is that they are good people.

Just out of curiosity, what do you think would make a good gay code word(s)? Leave me your best gay code word(s) in the comment section.  Until next time!

So, I’ve been wanting to start a blog for the longest time. But, like everything else in my life, I kept putting it off. I’ve had a long career in procrastination. In fact, I’ve made it all the way to the top. I’m the c.e.o. of Procrastination, Inc. Now that I’ve climbed all the way up that ladder I  guess I can finally start blogging.

When I first sat down to write this, my head was immediately filled with the image of me sitting at a desk typing on a laptop in front of a window. The window is in a fabulous Manhattan apartment overlooking a fabulous street in an even more fabulous neighborhood. I am writing about a conversation I just had with my wonderful, loyal, and fashion forward besties over brunch and mimosas at a cute outdoor cafe in soho. The conversation was about three things: 1.who’s dating who, 2.who slept with who, and 3.who broke up with who. I doled out some really witty advice to them all, had a good laugh, then we all headed to Bloomie’s to go shoe, bag, and sweater shopping. Sounds like a lot of fun right??

It was until I opened my eyes to reality. Although, I do have wonderful, loyal and fashion forward bff’s, I myself am not Carrie Bradshaw. I am Kevin Rose. A 37yr old gay black man that lost his job over a year ago. And, after being cut off from unemployment benefits, had to make one of the most difficult decisions in my life. No, I didn’t become a hooker. I instead packed up and left my beautiful city of San Francisco and came back to Florida to live with my parents(temporarily). Not gonna lie…sometimes I think hooking might have been the easier way to go.

Instead of sitting in front of a Manhattan apartment window staring out at the street below, I am sitting at my dad’s desktop computer (no wifi) in their second floor office/guest room. I am, however, sitting by the window and looking out through the cracked blinds. I don’t dare open the blinds all the way because it’s so hot here and the blinds keep the heat out. Plus, my father is a little paranoid about people being able to see in (a topic for future blogs). Although, my view isn’t exactly a Manhattan neighborhood, there are some perfectly lovely oak and pine trees to look at.

I didn’t have a fabulous brunch with mimosas either. But, I did have a home made tuna melt for lunch today. And, yesterday I found an unopened bottle of wine I left here a couple of years ago on a previous visit. It was like I had just found the holy grail. Remember in ‘Raiders of The Lost Ark’ the ecstatic looking faces they all made when they actually found the ark? That’s kinda the face I made yesterday. I was just shy of clapping my hands together and shouting Hercules! Hercules!

None of my friends live close enough to have conversations over brunch. But, I am still having conversations with them all through texting, calling, emailing, and facebooking. And the conversations are still pretty much the same: 1.who’s dating who, 2.who’s sleeping with who, 3.who’s breaking up with who, and the occasional 4.who’s stalking who on Facebook.

I may not be Carrie Bradshaw and I may not live in Manhattan (yet) but, I am just as fabulous in my own way. I am starting a new journey in my life and I can’t wait to see where I will end up. Until then, I am going to savor every moment (good or bad) along the way and hope to take you along for the ride with me. I promise that all of my postings won’t be this long. 🙂

Enjoy!! And don’t forget to leave your comments!!!