S. S. Mulligan

There are two boats. These boats have been sailing around together for a while now... a long while. There have been a bunch of adventures over the years: popping into different ports to have a good time; weathering tempests out on the open sea; figuring out what the fuck to do when the wind dies down for days at a time, leaving you just... drifting.

But it was good. Lot of water across those hulls. 

One day, these two boats find themselves in the middle of the Great Atlantic Sea. It's big out there. After a while where the wind didn't blow, it finally picked up again. Restless and stir crazy, these boats wanted an adventure, again. One of the good ones. So, they decided they would sail east. East seems like as good a place as any.

But something happens: a shift in the current; a main sails is angled in a slight different direction than usual; maybe a line getting pulled to tight. Eventually, the boats start to drift apart from each other. They're still going east, and you don't even notice it at first. But there's like, this half-degree difference. 

Not much at first. The two boats can still call out to each other. But they keep drifting. Calling out is replaced with waving hands. Waving hands, then, can't be seen anymore. Eventually, the view from one boat has the other one, somewhere out there, beyond the curve of the horizon. More time goes by, and eventually, the radios don't really get the message across anymore. 

But it's cool. Shit like this has happened before. It's all part of the adventure. It'll all work out in the end. It almost always does. 

After sailing east in that big ocean, the two boats eventually hit port. Different ports. Turns out, that half-degree of difference, maintained over time, wasn't such a small amount after all. One boat hits Lisbon. The other hits Freetown. 

The two boats will be in touch again, for sure. But in the meantime... there are so many cool things in Lisbon, and there are so many wonderful experiences to be had in Freetown! The boats start acclimating to the waters. They meet other boats -- boats who are different from what they're used to! New boat things are learned! New boat relationships are made! And eventually, it hits. Are you still the same boat anymore? 

The boats meet up. But this time, they're different. One of them got a new mast, and a paintjob. The other is pretty much the same as it was before, but it got a jib, and it can go really fast now, like 'zoom.'

The boats are happy for each other, of course. They sailed a lot of ocean in their armada of two. But now, the boats have become different boats, because they spent a lot of time apart. Maybe these boats need to sail with other boats. 

The boats are both a little upset about all this, of course. One of the boats recommends that some other boats come along, and the other boat isn't really a big fan of this. It was just supposed to be the two of us. But then, that boat thinks... it was just having a better time with the other boats. There was a happiness and fulfillment that boat didn't even know existed. It wants to go back to its boat friends; the other boat doesn't. 

The boats respect each other, and with trepidation, they promise to keep in touch. But I think most boats, deep down inside, know how that turns out. 

Alright. Ditching the metaphor. I lost someone recently who I was really close to. Like, really, really close to. They're not dead, or anything. They're perfectly well, and are doing some really cool stuff now. I'm happy for them. 

But, there's been this period of remorse that's come along with it. There wasn't any huge falling out, or anything. No grand fight that put us both in a place of stubborn silence. In fact, we've talked about it! Extensively! Which is somehow worse, because at least, if there was a fight, there would be closure! Rip off that Band-Aid, mutha-fukka!

We still talk... but not frequently. The conversations are different, more cordial, without a lot of the goofy, knowing laughter we used to have. The references have changed, those anchoring points we used have in common are planted in different ports, now. (Dammit, I promised I was gonna ditch the boat metaphor!). 

I still care about this person. Always will. And I think the same is true, visa-versa. And that makes me happy. But, still. It's just sad. 

It's messed me up lately. Might be a part of the reason I haven't posted on here a lot recently. Even though there is SO much to talk about. 

I have a client. He went through SHIT, like God taking it all out on Job levels of crap, around the holidays. Busy guy, keeps the gears spinning, right? He confessed that he had basically just given up on January as far as being productive. Better to take that time to embrace, lean in, process, and move one. For him, February 1 was HIS New Years Day. Basically, he took a mulligan on a month. I like that. 

What I CAN say, for myself, now, is that I'm through the woods. February, it turns out, was MY mulligan, a time when the sadness finally morphed into acceptance. And then? What else can you do? You move on. As President Bartlett would say, "What's next?"

While I'm quoting... what was that line from "Apocalypse Now?" Everyone gets everything they want (...) for their sins, they get it." In exchange for this sadness, I'm still settling into a new place. For the long term, too! And there's not a plague out there, which means I get to interact with those... what are they called... humans? My social skills are rubbish at this point, but I've found a sense of community, which is... like, just making me tear-jerkingly happy. As a person who never-much liked people, it's just *nice* to be around people again. 

It's an odd group as well. I look forward to tell y'all more about them, because there's a lot to it, and they've actually been helping me get my mojo back. I guess we're social creatures, after all. Dammit. I was hoping I could pull of that hermit-chic look. But then again, that was an older version of me. 

Might as well start somewhere, however. The pic at the top of this post was taken by Claudia Last-Name-Omitted, but keep her in mind, because she'll be coming up in future posts. Claudia is a ROCKING fucking photographer/stylist/creative spirit/Next Guillermo Del Toro, basically. We were just kinda sitting around after a long night out, I offered her to crash at my place, we were drinking beer out back, and I was wearing my "smoking kimono," and after shifting around Nat and Olga a little to make them look presentable, we got a few shots in the name of artsy-ness. I looked like SHIT at that point, but hell dudes... the magic of dramatic noir lighting, right? (And maybe some post-shop magic that didn't make me look like this was hour 7 of eyeshadow-plus-getting stuck in a rain storm -- I defer to the professionals.) 

This was my favorite, I asked her if I could post it, and she was like, "hell yeah." Who knows, maybe I'll be the Dora Maar to her Picasso. I think you all might think that's fun, too. 

And she's like, only 23, which is cool, because I don't necessarily FEAR Gen-Zed. But occasionally peculiar, because I always get this bug in my head that says I'm old enough to be her mom (I would have had to be 16, but that happens all the time, so technically true). But, to hell with it. She's an old soul, with the same sardonic sense of humor and a general sense of say-la-vee. (Just-so-happens that she's pretty busty as well, and it's been a fucking roller coaster for her self-confidence over the years. So, there have been some venting sessions about THAT. It's funny... profoundly boobed people do have this odd propensity to bond. Shop talk, right?)

Long story short, we've had some great times so far. Nothing romantic at all, mind you -- if anything I kinda get the same vibe I feel with me and my aunt. Which is nice... kinda makes me feel like a real grownup. 

And, it's allowed me the opportunity to meet other folks in the literati. The kinds of folks you feel comfortable around, because they're just as different as you are.

Well, more to come. For what it's worth, I do have this desire to post something every day. Actually incorporate it into my routine. There's just a lot to share, so I'm finally starting to prioritize, and come out of the cloud of option paralysis. We'll see if it happens, because I'm an easily distracted mockingbird who likes shiny things. But I'd like that. I hope you all will, too.