Time frames suck. I hate having to follow them, um, because ... they kill my free spirit. Yeah, I'll go with that. Sound just as good as any other excuse. And yet I seem to set time limits for myself despite my own personal hate for them - go figure.
So, why isnt this a post? Well, because I say so. Its just that simple. This is a rant, scrawl, or if I want to be an egotistical ass: a journal entry. The web is open that way - anything "is" whatever you make it and choose to call it. But in the end, the real reason this isnt a post is simple: In my last post I said I'd have the new skin up. Well as you can see if you are reading this - it didnt happen.
So instead of scapegoating or coping to slack or distraction , I simply redefine the terms. Nice how that works, huh? I said the skin would come with the next post, and since this isnt a post - no skin. Damn, I should really be in politics, I have the slime-covered bullshit-act down pat!
Anyway, part of the reason but none of the blame lies with the fact that I got a call around 11 last night. (I do most of my web work at night) It made me jump a tad since it has been a while since I had received a call that late. Not to mention that it came from a number I had never seen before. I was almost tempted not to answer, but since I was up anyway - what the hell.
As it turns out, it was Ross, crawling out of the woodwork. Sadly, it took me a beat or two to realize who it was. Like I said- it was night and my mind was in code not conversation. And partly due to the fact that he has a new number - the boy finally has a cell again. Initial confusion aside, it was good to hear from him. Had been about a month since any sign of life. Which is rather ironic considering earlier in the day I had hung with Tim, and commented on the lack of contact.
Its either a small world or Ross has some freakishly powerful mind reading abilities. I'm inclined to err on the side of freakish ability - but thats just me.
Its a short po... I mean rant, ramble, scrawl, whatever - as I am still trying to recover from the trip down memory lane that was last night - while going through Tim's old yearbook. Damn it, I have spent way too much time repressing most of it for it all to come flooding back. Well that and the fact that most of the things I wanted to comment on as we reminisced would have made him to uncomfortable, so I chose not to say much beyond being a smart ass.
Yet he can look back a saying anything he wants about the past from who he "did" - had the option to "do" - or wish he had "done" - so much for fairness. Hell, so much for even bothering to be out if I can't even express anything around friends.
But the real question is: Is it his issue for being uncomfortable or its it mine for worrying that he is?
I just can't win.
Or in the words of Eric Hunter: "I though coming out - it would make things easier..." Except I dont have Lea DeLaria to hug me in the end... Where the hell is my Angie? Now taking taking applications for middle-aged lesbian sidekick...