If you're here, you could be there.

I woke up around 1, but even though I thought about taking the day off or like...a half a pill or something to snag a bit more sleep, I just stayed up instead and drank a fuckton of coffee. My last "easy" day before I fully take over Lindsay's other digit next week, and of course I still couldn't focus as much as I should have on work. I managed to get all the important stuff, anyway. Keagan asked me to pick up the last of Chris's meds, but the post office was out of the boxes. I'll try again tomorrow.

Julian had called me the night before, but I'd already passed out by then. I also missed Lindsay's going away virtual happy hour, even though it was only an hour after I got out of work. Some part of me knew I was going to miss it, though, if only to escape the anxiety and embarrassment of having opened the box from Kathy already. I did call Julian back in the evening, though I'd started drinking again. He might come visit again, and I might pay for half or all of it. I don't really know what to do with him, and I don't think he knows what to do with me, either.

Finally, Leeper's old roommate, Justin messaged me needing some kind of legal help. I'm not sure how much of his message to believe, but I looked into it as much as I could anyway.

I woke up around 4, but didn't feel hungover.....I did vomit several times later that morning, but it was completely clear again, and my tummy was kind of fucked up all day. I beat off twice, but didn't film either. I've got enough vids that even if I take a little time to try to slim down, I can keep up posting for a bit. I actually considered dosing again, since I was so thin then. I know.

I did, at least, manage to clean some, work out, cook up another pan of soy curls, and even eat some towards the evening. Not that I had any friends in my last apartment complexes, but as I was checking my mail, one of the neighbors made a joke about her partner stalking the mail man. It felt good to connect. I spent most of the afternoon alternating between watching TV and playing video games in bed with Lady Miss Friday.

Jacob messaged me in the evening, still wanting to get together. For me to visit him, or to let him stay with me. I...guess? I guess it's worth seeing what's there. Right? A long time ago, when I first started suspecting there might be some relationship dysfunctions in my family, I wondered what damage that would inflict on my relationships. It feels like looking at a puzzle, but then going blind or developing cataracts or something. I've got this vague sense about the pieces and the voids, but I'm just stumbling through.

I managed to not drink at all, which surprised even me. Just as I was laying down, Julian texted, asking if he should just go straight. I counseled him as best I could, and then he called. He kept interrupting me, and didn't even remember the name of RHPS or FHA, or almost any other details, but was somewhat jokingly upset with my lack of sense of time. I almost decided to just stay up, drinking and talking to him, but finally tapped out around 1:30.

So nice to not have morning TDP duties, so I could just dive into claims all morning. I zipped over for my COVID test, and it wasn't as confusing as I thought it would be. It really is just a right on Lewis to behind the hospital. They just shove the Q-Tip up each nose, roll it around for 10 seconds. It's not pleasant, but I've had worse. And my nurse was cheerful and joking, and for once my internalization of others emotions was good for me. Snagged more Splenda on the way back, but couldn't remember what else I needed there.

Lots of shirts got delivered - Tim's Last Unicorn shirt, my and Ashley's Annie: The Dayplaner shirts. I'm very happy with the purchases, but still opted to wear one of my own (of several copies) Last Unicorn shirt to the meeting. Lori commented on us both wearing purple, and I did show everyone the shirt, but managed to not mention that I'd happily buy the book and/or movie for everyone.

The Zoom meeting went really well. Lady Miss Friday joined, and Lynelle took time while we were waiting to show us Scotch. Kathy decided to go in order of tenure, and 1) I was shocked Omar has been there since he was 18...for like...30 years now, and 2) Kathy thought I started before JJD. I mean...we were Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum, based largely on various staff members constantly confusing us. I decided a couple days ago that I didn't want to go into ADI's teaching and demonstrating patience, understanding, and grace there, since my 5 year is coming up and I think that's what I'm going to talk about there. But I did mention it briefly before moving on to my more worky note about how getting to do claims was both a gift from the Gods and the key to my seeing the full circle of what we do and why. And I got quoted later by another paralegal. In actually speaking the words aloud, I was able to further analyze and articulate more thoughts on it. Even later, it occurred to me that we might still be working remotely when my anniversary comes up, so all this worry might be for naught. At least that will calm my anxiety over standing or not. I fucking hate decisions.

Julian had texted me while I was sleeping about how great Pose is. I didn't have time to text him back until after work, but in the discussion, he finally fully admitted to fucking Dewey. And likely bottoming for him. This didn't summon that red haze over my eyes like usual. Honesty is always refreshing, I've dealt with this for a long time, and I'm pretty sure Dewey ended up addicted to meth.

Boyd, a Twitter friend, had checked in on me a few days ago, and I finally found the time to give a detailed answer. I'm usually on my phone, so my responses have often been less complete than he deserves, but I found time at a keyboard. We filled each other in on some delicate details. I told him about everything that happened in the last year, he noted that he was addicted to meth forever.

At Tim's suggestion, I called the Postal Annex for packing paper. I overshare, and maybe it's the "vegan" in me, but I made sure to tell her it was for rescue feeders. People should follow Albert Schweitzer's advice. When I did log in to work, it was tough to stay focused because I had so many non-work things pressing on me. A week's worth of over half of all claims plus 2.3 digits of mail is a lot on a remote connection. To say nothing of the back of my brain screaming at me all fucking morning that my mice were going to die horribly if I didn't clean their cage THIS SECOND and I'm a horrible Mouse Dad, and they would have been better off being left as feeders....and then Lady Miss Friday being *really* unhappy with me being on the computer. I decided to section it out. I spent the morning on claims (with a small break to lay with her on the bed with her, according to her demands), zipped to the Postal Annex on lunch, cleaned the kid's cage, gave them all crunched up wads of paper to hide, play and chew in, then tucked into the eservice after lunch. Really, I was on kind of a roll, and would have happily kept working for free....I even asked about putting in volunteer hours. An addictive personality doesn't discriminate.

While I was on break, I called my mum. I haven't in a while, she's been posting *a lot* in support of me....and I obviously needed her help with my homework. She did mention that last year was Hell for her, too, so I guess both of our issues started exploding at the same time. She confirmed a lot of Tim's thoughts. Used the exact words that Papa played us against one another. When I mentioned that I worshiped him as a child, she noted he demanded that. And used guilt and shame to control us. I tend to forget that my dad was sort of Diet Racist, if even diet, but she told me that he would insult her Mexican heritage to shut her up in public. He hated people responding "Okay" to a request, and would explode at her when she did... but she learned that, and would use it passive aggressively. Unsurprisingly, she's still on the battlefield, so she also took this opportunity to bash Colleen, but I learned that Papa was initially going to surrender us at start of the divorce because he was so heartbroken. I can't help but wonder what my life would have been like, but I would never say anything like that to my mum.

I also learned some things about me. Apparently FHA's friends who called me a ticking time bomb were not the first by many, many years. She did note that I've always been Harmony Bear, just with much more extreme reactions when I was little. They took steps to try to mitigate the damage from the divorce on me and my brother, according to our situations. Ultimately, we've all of us been dragged down in this poisonous, barbed tangle...that's on fire. I knew I was an incredibly withdrawn child, which apparently was a sudden change that occurred around the first time I was apparently molested. Jared exploded from the various traumas, I wanted to disappear.

But she told me what might be my absolute favorite story about me as a child, as fucked up as that might be. We had Japanese exchange students growing up, and I got along swimmingly with most of them. Actually, since this was before I had any inkling of the gay gravitation towards fabulous women, I had several "girlfriends." But apparently one of the male students was awful. I don't know his name, so we'll just call him Jerk. We were at Faith & Ray's, Jerk was fucking with their dog, Miles, and I'd been asking him repeatedly (in my passive, shy voice) to stop. And then Miles yelped. Faith came running when she heard the yelp and saw my face *change.* I went after the kid, and I wasn't about to not fuck him the fuck up, to borrow a phrase from Lana del Rey. Faith stopped me, but no one had ever seen my temper before. Literally all of my parents were Animal Friends, vicious as a rabid Chihuahua, and Papa had actually killed a fuckton of people as a military operative, so it's not terribly surprising that The Thing to flip me from a painfully withdrawn child into a literal murderous rage would be cruelty to animals. Come to think of it, not a lot has changed.

I didn't end up eating at all yesterday, and despite my stomach rumbling today, nothing sounded edible. I finally had a handful of pretzels in the evening, just to put something in my system. And then smoked and had wine. My tummy got upset after my second glass of wine, though, and I threw up.

FHA messaged me in the evening with a picture of a seal and a pup cuddling together on the beach, and it sent me back to Pinterest to look at even more happy pinnipeds. I don't believe in "enough." We also took that opportunity to catch up a bit. He's had...a week, but it's taking steps to fix things. Shit I should have done decades ago.

I thought the 24 hour wait time for Allan was enough, so I posted Silver Linings to the music group, though only Mitchell reacted. I checked in Bryan Riley and Ashley, listened to it a few hundred more times, watched my happy, happy mice run around their new playground, let Lady Miss Friday out once more.

I was going to crash, but Julian sent me a YouTube video of 2Cellists. I've seen them before - two conventionally if absurdly attractive Bros who are also cello prodigies. He sent the message with the caption "their hot," but when I replied I'd subscribe to their Only Fans, it started a whole thing. He called me, thinking I was under the influence, and insisted he wasn't.... Even when he left to get another beer. It was a reminder of the reasons we broke up.

Woke up to a text message from Julian, saying he thinks about me every day. I still don't know what to say to him, so I still say nothing. Eric was still sleeping when I left, Lady Miss Friday had retired to a cubby. Iced my leg all day at work - the first 72 hours after an injury is the most important in terms of healing time, and I really couldn't do much the first 48. But I could've done something.

Tim messaged me during the day to ask for advice for Kirby and let me know he had him there. Kirby apparently left work to go to the emergency room and was fired for it. That's a big nono. Actually, his work had a lot of nonos, and I'm kind of glad they've got this MASSIVE cherry to topple the sundae. I told him what his next steps should be, but I'm not getting invested in any of that. Kirby has decided to move out of his current place because his roommate does meth and fucked all day. In fairness, he didn't have a problem with me fucking all day, so the dealbreaker is clearly chems, and he was actually paying for this space. That being said, it's not like he had to share a room with guy.

Briefly thought about going to the store on my way home, because I'm almost out of "meatballs" but I didn't have any bags, so I told myself I'd go before rehearsal. Eric was gone when I got home, but Bryan and Jeff were both home, Jeff looking ever more homeless. He mumbled something about trying to get into Stepping Stone in the morning, and that he would try again tomorrow. I think you have to be sober for a certain period of time before they'll even let you on the wait list, but I'm not 100 % sure. He took out the recycling with me then walked...somewhere, still mumbling.

Bryan needs me to help him with his resume, but my new printer isn't connecting properly to my computer. I'm destined to be home printerless. I'll bring it in to work and scan it.

This was our first performance in front of the chorus, and I was awesome. This was also our first night with costumes for Cell Block. I thought the shrug they mentioned was going to be full sleeves, but it's literally just the shoulders. So then bicep curls in addition to crunches between now and Saturday. A couple people made a couple flubs, but I wasn't one of them, and several chorus members came up to me after to tell me I'm awesome. And a couple came up to me to tell me they want to sleep with me. Which is also fine.


Since I didn't manage the store before rehearsal, and rehearsal gets out at 10, of course I didn't make it. Jeff and Bryan were both home when I finally got there, watching Dana Carvey's new standup, though it was mercifully almost over. Jeff crashed, I retired to my room, and finally crashed myself a little after 11, only to be woken up at midnight by the TV suddenly turning on full volume again. I walked out and asked Bryan to turn it down and he looked at me for a second before he complied....turning it down all of 3 clicks. I kind of hate that I even had to wrestle with myself, but I texted him to tell him to turn it down to the point I couldn't hear it through my wall. He definitely wasn't doing it to piss me off. He was either completely oblivious that midnight is an inappropriate time to have the TV on full blast, or was actively trying to fuck with Jeff.

Hit the ground running at work - got all my case offers out, a bunch of appointment orders in, all my mail done, and claims. I happened upon Princess Parking in the morning, which made it all the easier to get home quickly. What didn't make it easier were the people who tried to cut me off, then flipped me off for not letting them.

Julian texted me right as I was getting home, asking if I was going to the gym. Unlikely. I laughed with the nurses at the dr, then played on my phone while I waited for the doc.

Schmerber had shaved his beard, but is just as gorgeous as ever. It's been several months since I'd seen him, and absence does indeed make the heart go wander. But damn if his very presence doesn't take my breath away, filling the sudden vacuum with swirling ghosts of possibility. And obviously brings out my inner awful teenage poet. I think he likes me, but I also think he's primarily interested in me as a patient. A patient who is possibly a little less fucked up than some of the others he sees, but his interest in me is humanitarian.

I swabbed myself, but didn't keep track of which tubes were for my throat and which were for my butt. The nurse tried to examine them for any clues, but I apparently did too good a job getting cleaned up. Go me!

Hit the store on the way back, picked up food, creamer, and booze. Julian was passed out on the guest bed when I walked in, which was weird. I petted Lady Miss Friday - she's getting more comfortable with me, if very slowly. My phone rang a couple times - the single best thing about not having an ad up is not having to answer random phone calls. One of those calls turned out to be Julian's mom, and she left a message damn near hysterical over not being able to contact Julian. I woke him up, which was enough of a chore that I worried he'd taken pills, or had alcohol poisoning or something. He freaked out when I finally did wake him, repeatedly thinking it was the next day despite my telling him it was 7.

Julian got drunk, Ursula came over, I made dinner. She's vegetarian now, which is great. Julian was profuse in his compliments for my cooking, which was nice. I was tired, so not much of a conversationalist, but it was a good time. About half way through, Julian called his mom and went outside, frequently yelling. Lord. Ursula asked to take the leftovers home, and I gave her them plus the rest of the tortillas. About $7, including the proportion of spices and such to feed 3 people well with leftovers.


Couple takeaways from the night, mostly regarding Julian:

Julian mentioned to Ursula that he likes "insanity" in his life. I guess this isn't surprising, and I'm not sure why I didn't make that connection before. I've heard about people who actively try to create strife in their lives, who work towards crisis. I just don't know what to do with it.

He's slowly started mentioning how much he drinks, and how that might be a factor in....well, everything. But he's also still blaming being German. He also complained that I (meaning we) don't go out to bars anymore, but subsided when I pointed out it's because I don't have the money to pay for two people.

He was wasted early on, though this didn't stop him from drinking more. When I set the taco fixins out for everyone to make their own, he whined, child-like, for me to make his for him. Again, everyone who knew that on some level, some part of his failure at adulting is intentional take one step forward. Not so fast, Squeak.

Most of Julian's yelling outside centered around Rachel calling his mom a bitch. I'd be a lot more sympathetic to this being the kind of world ending rage if I hadn't heard Julian do it himself. Also, laying in bed later, Julian wondered aloud how much more he could take. Over someone calling his mom a bitch. It's possible he could be thinking of that as the straw that broke the camel's back, but I don't think so. It's far more likely that he's focusing on this instead of a lack of job prospects, social skills, thousands of dollars in debt, eviction and alcoholism. I guess we all do that in some form or another.

I showered in the morning, to get the sweat off of me, and to get a good start to my day. Worked for the former, not the latter. I've been working really hard on getting to bed early so I don't need to drink so much coffee at work. However, the biggest downfall for my erections is exhaustion. If I'm tired, it's probably just not going to work, so I had a second cup at 2pm.

My friend Ryan messaged me in the early afternoon, wanting to hang out, or at least get ready for a leather event at my place. Ryan lives in north county, so it's fairly understandable that he'd need a place. He also has a lot of mental issues - anxiety, depression, etc. He has an adorable service dog named Sterling. Apparently he comes from money - Balenciaga, Coach, mum bought him a new car, etc. And he's used to getting his way.

The first hiccup was him being in my shower when I got home, because I needed that. Okay, the first hiccup was the first 5 Batmans who had to drop out for one reason or another. Anyway, I got cleaned up just fine, but then I started having stomach trouble. Like, delayed us an hour, continued late into the night and today kind of stomach trouble.

Ryan, on hearing that we were doing a porn shoot, offered to be crew, be on camera for free, do marketing, do anything. Sure. Lucky is friendly with other dogs, and Spencer is a service dog, so presumably well socialized. Both Ryan and my co-star were maybe a little too eager, often following us around and interrupting us to offer suggestions, or even just hear themselves talk (and talk and talk).

Ryan met Julian while we were together, did meth with him that one night, and apparently they're friends now. So I got a text from Julian on the way to the shoot, (the first since all his angry messages telling me he'd make my life hell and I should kill myself) which I declined to respond to, or delve into exactly how good of friends my self-proclaimed power bottom friend and horsehung ex are. I had more than enough to deal with.

Dan, owner of the only studio that consistently hires me, is supportive of my venture, and gave me a dose of TriMix for my costar. Lloyd is a sport for doing the shoot, but goddamn. TriMix and a half a Viagra and he could barely get hard. Then he was too close to cumming, then he almost couldn't cum at all.

It's tough to direct while you're performing, and tied up at that. I knew going into it that the set and costumes were cheap AF, so I was really counting on our performances to make it. Looking back, I'm now wondering if Lloyd has ever seen Adam West's Batman, because he started out deep, gruff, and angry, like animated series Batman, and ended up deep, gruff, and overly salacious, like Kim Cattral. (I kid!) Lloyd also apparently doesn't know anything about porn positioning and Dave wasn't forceful enough to position us for shots, because I was directing. But being in the scene, I can't see what's working for the camera, and being the tied up bottom, I'm not really in a position, so to speak, to maneuver us.

The rope used was too long, and he never really came to a conclusion about what to do with it - he was initially going to cut me out of it, but then had gone on fucking me so long that his "knots" started coming undone of their own accord, so sort of fumbled with them for a while. So we didn't get as long a shoot as Dave wanted - apparently only about 20 min, vs the 30 that a scene should be, there's none of me riding him, etc. In a nod to one of my fans, I had him rim me until I came, which might have garnered a few extra minutes.

Early on in the shoot, Sterling attacked Lucky because Sterling was playing with Lucky's toys and didn't want him getting close (TO HIS OWN TOYS), which was awful, and Ryan opted to take an Uber back to my place, but then said he left there just before I got home.

Dave is excited about the shoot, and going to have a rough edit available for me in less than a week. I'm not so confident. A while back, there was a Spiderman sex vid that involved two dudes(?) in zentai suits. I'm not even sure they actually fuck or cum, or if they just rub each other a bunch. I wasn't really around for it, and don't really go in for trainwrecks. It was comedy for all the wrong reasons, and I'm terrified of this being the new that.

On the plus side, I'm very pleased with my performance. My dick stayed relatively hard for the whole shoot, I came a lot, though not the distance I was hoping for, and despite having the most trouble I've ever had getting ready for a shoot, my stomach cooperated just long enough for us to finish and me to get home.

I broke up with my ex boyfriend again last night. This is far more common for me than breaking up once and never seeing them again. I think Ken is the only ex I've ever *not* at least fucked after breaking up.

Julian and I met on a random Sunday at #1 on Fifth. He was cute, and sweet, and our sex was phenomenal. He liked a lot of the same music, was an animal lover, and loved how much I loved animals and music. When one of my couch surfers nearly killed Mousey, he suggested we move him to his place. Like all my relationships, we had great chemistry, and were therefore officially boyfriends less than 2 months later. Unofficial boyfriends before that, of course.

I saw warning signs while we were still dating. He had an unfortunate mix of abandonment and control issues. He took shots of vodka in the morning before breakfast, sometimes instead of breakfast. I bought him a shotglass with his name on it. We had a volatile relationship, and things got physical once. He "started it," but I have 20+lbs on him, so I shouldn't have finished it. After that, most of our fights were him drunkenly screaming at me and apologizing the next day. He sometimes apologized without remembering any of the night before; it was habit. Friends stopped going out with us because the drunken fight was so predictable.

I tried to get counseling for us through the Center after our altercation, but he was only free on Fridays, and we were on a waitlist for 4 months without a peep. He'd eventually quit his job, which obviously made scheduling much easier. He went to Germany in late December, to see his dying Grandfather and stay for the funeral. While he was gone, he called me frequently, and often chastised me for not calling him. He was often drunk, and yelled at me for not being there, for vegan food causing deforestation, and a couple other things. I broke up with him the night he got back. I know, it was terrible timing, but I had a lot of things there, and it was my best shot for a clean break. He asked where my stuff was, started crying, and begged and begged and begged and begged me not to. I finally got out by asking for "a break" after an hour of telling him we were breaking up. He asked to see me every day during our "break."

That Thursday, we were supposed to work together. He no-showed but called me later, drunk at Mo's and shouting about a million things he wouldn't remember the next day. I changed my FB status that night to officially be Single again. He messaged me the next day, hundreds of times while I was at work, and showed up at my place in the evening, refusing to leave until I called the police.

For some people, that childhood lesson "please is a magic word" is taken too literally. Obviously, if you say please, and the answer is no, you just need to ask again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. Julian is at least the second such person I've met, and I don't even know how to go about researching it.

I thought it was important that Julian get counseling, so I continued to see him, so that he could qualify for therapy through me at The Center. I also let him use my car during the day, so he could run various job-searching errands and the like. This was probably a mistake, but such is the road to hell.

This past Sunday, my friend Bryan invited us to be Softball Cheerleaders, and then to a BBQ. About half-way through the BBQ, someone brought out a plate of coke. This past Tuesday, a friend invited us over to swim and hot-tub. Most of the guys ended up naked. Julian was into it at first, but ended up the drunkest I've ever seen him and shouted at me the whole way home. His side of the bed was soaked in the morning, though it didn't smell. He demanded I get him a new blanket, then just snatched the half I was using off of me.

That afternoon, he didn't pick me up from work. He's usually a little late, but this time he just never showed. I texted and called a few times, but an hour later I hadn't heard back, so I started walking home. It's 3.5 miles, so neither pleasant nor impossible. He called when I was almost home, apologized at first, but quickly switched to shouting how unfair it was that he needed to wake up early every day just so he could use my car while I was at work. Then he started shouting that I didn't tell him there was going to be coke/nudity at the parties. The fact that I didn't know these things was no excuse. He threatened not to give my car back. I told him I would report it stolen. He later showed up to my place, apparently high as a kite, and alternated sobbing and shouting. I told him to leave, offered him a ride, but only about 10 times before I said I'd drive him home and waited in my car. I came back in a few hours later to find him asleep. In the morning, he followed me out to my car, demanding to know how he was supposed to get home. I offered him a ride again. He wanted me to stay and talk, so I went to work. Hundreds of messages. But I do know what's good for me, and I've done what I could for you.




Looking back on all of this, I'm not sure how much distance we're going to need. I'd like him to be in my life, but he's been out of work for a few months, and already took out predatory loans to pay the last couple month's rent. I advised him earlier to move home with his mom. She lives in AR, which is not ideal, but he wouldn't have to worry about bills, and he's close with her. The distance might make our break up(s) easier on him, as well.