Where it's at
It's been so long since I did any serious writing, I didn't even have a word processor on my desktop until like five seconds ago.
I've been busy, I guess.
Really, I haven't been writing since I left Pittsburgh. I was gone three years. I've been back nearly four. Five? I don't know. Time doesn't fly but it sure does get confusing. Especially since I hit my head. But I'll get to that.
I need to start again. If nothing else, it'll keep me out of the bar. These blackouts... y'all wouldn't believe some of the things I've slept with.
My shit is all packed right now. I'm down to my computer, my mattress, my makeup in the bathroom and the assorted crap I use to was myself in the other bathroom downstairs. Yeah, I'm moving. Again. Fifth time in what I think must be three and a half years.
I'm staying in Pittsburgh. If nothing else, I have a good job here and a few good friends in town. Not so many as I thought, but definitely a few.
Oh. Right. That.
It's Thursday. Tuesday was the last day of the first real relationship I've had since Tallboy. Three months. Not so long, I guess, but I loved her. She called me up Tuesday while I was at (guess where?) the bar. She told me she didn't have feelings for me. Wasn't too long ago she told me she did. I got drunk. I mean, I got homeless drunk. Little Big Hair and Sparky were trying to get me over to one of the couches. I tripped over this little table, caught the corner of it with my chest on the way down. You can see it in the picture there – the line is where I hit the edge. Those bruises a bit away from it? That's how hard I hit.
I'm not bad hurt or anything. No busted ribs, nothing internal seems to be messed up. But I gotta stay out of the bar.
Gotta stay away from that brown liquor, anyway.
Up until three months ago I'd just been kind of slutting around. That started in December, right when I moved into the place I'm leaving now. I'd meet a guy here, on Adult Friend Finder or maybe just at the bar. I'd blow him or screw him. Next.
I was even doing cam shows again with these two crossdressers. Nice girls. But I stopped doing all that on account of I needed room in my life for Purps. And now Purps isn't a thing anymore.
We had been working together for about a year, right? I thought she was kind of cute, fun to talk to in the lunch room with the rest of the queers, but I wasn't going to be getting involved with anybody from the office, right? Yeah. Right.
We started working on this project together, this discrimination issue that was affecting us and another one that was affecting us and out friends. She made it pretty clear she was interested. I liked her. She's real smart – smarter than me, even, and I don't find that very often. Maybe never before, now that I think about it. She was talented. She had great politics. She had fire. Soon enough, I found her to be beautiful and I just went all in. Opened my heart up on that plane for the first time in seven years.
Dumb move, Sekhet. Dumb move.
There's a lot that's about to happen to me. I don't know what, exactly, but I can see the shape of it. My job is about to change in some way. I shouldn't talk about it here so very much, but the gist is that I'm going to stop doing one very interesting, meaningful and challenging thing and move on to something that's even more so on all planes. I'm moving. I'm single.
I'm fucking scared.
I've been back on hormones for a little under a year now. My hips are back. My breasts are coming. I'm slowly losing weight. My head is clearing up. I'm going to try to really chill on the drinking for a while and everything should really be looking up, but...
...but tomorrow I have to see her. She's headlining a party at this little nightclub and I told her I'd be there. I try to keep my word. I'm going to do my best to look as good as I can, hah – maybe show her a little bit of what she's missing, right? Maybe meet somebody else. I don't know. But I know I'm going to drink. If I can stay away from the whiskey... If I can just stay away from the fucking whiskey I think I'll be alright.
Catshoes might be there. She's another co-worker, a new friend of mine and a long time friend of Purp. She and I get along, and she seems to give at least a little bit of a crap about what I'm going through.
I know what I want to do here – I want to keep writing about what's happening, and I want to write about what's already gone down. There's a lot to tell.
I hope I've got it in me to tell it, and to tell it true.
I've been busy, I guess.
Really, I haven't been writing since I left Pittsburgh. I was gone three years. I've been back nearly four. Five? I don't know. Time doesn't fly but it sure does get confusing. Especially since I hit my head. But I'll get to that.
I need to start again. If nothing else, it'll keep me out of the bar. These blackouts... y'all wouldn't believe some of the things I've slept with.
My shit is all packed right now. I'm down to my computer, my mattress, my makeup in the bathroom and the assorted crap I use to was myself in the other bathroom downstairs. Yeah, I'm moving. Again. Fifth time in what I think must be three and a half years.
I'm staying in Pittsburgh. If nothing else, I have a good job here and a few good friends in town. Not so many as I thought, but definitely a few.
Oh. Right. That.
It's Thursday. Tuesday was the last day of the first real relationship I've had since Tallboy. Three months. Not so long, I guess, but I loved her. She called me up Tuesday while I was at (guess where?) the bar. She told me she didn't have feelings for me. Wasn't too long ago she told me she did. I got drunk. I mean, I got homeless drunk. Little Big Hair and Sparky were trying to get me over to one of the couches. I tripped over this little table, caught the corner of it with my chest on the way down. You can see it in the picture there – the line is where I hit the edge. Those bruises a bit away from it? That's how hard I hit.
I'm not bad hurt or anything. No busted ribs, nothing internal seems to be messed up. But I gotta stay out of the bar.
Gotta stay away from that brown liquor, anyway.
Up until three months ago I'd just been kind of slutting around. That started in December, right when I moved into the place I'm leaving now. I'd meet a guy here, on Adult Friend Finder or maybe just at the bar. I'd blow him or screw him. Next.
I was even doing cam shows again with these two crossdressers. Nice girls. But I stopped doing all that on account of I needed room in my life for Purps. And now Purps isn't a thing anymore.
We had been working together for about a year, right? I thought she was kind of cute, fun to talk to in the lunch room with the rest of the queers, but I wasn't going to be getting involved with anybody from the office, right? Yeah. Right.
We started working on this project together, this discrimination issue that was affecting us and another one that was affecting us and out friends. She made it pretty clear she was interested. I liked her. She's real smart – smarter than me, even, and I don't find that very often. Maybe never before, now that I think about it. She was talented. She had great politics. She had fire. Soon enough, I found her to be beautiful and I just went all in. Opened my heart up on that plane for the first time in seven years.
Dumb move, Sekhet. Dumb move.
There's a lot that's about to happen to me. I don't know what, exactly, but I can see the shape of it. My job is about to change in some way. I shouldn't talk about it here so very much, but the gist is that I'm going to stop doing one very interesting, meaningful and challenging thing and move on to something that's even more so on all planes. I'm moving. I'm single.
I'm fucking scared.
I've been back on hormones for a little under a year now. My hips are back. My breasts are coming. I'm slowly losing weight. My head is clearing up. I'm going to try to really chill on the drinking for a while and everything should really be looking up, but...
...but tomorrow I have to see her. She's headlining a party at this little nightclub and I told her I'd be there. I try to keep my word. I'm going to do my best to look as good as I can, hah – maybe show her a little bit of what she's missing, right? Maybe meet somebody else. I don't know. But I know I'm going to drink. If I can stay away from the whiskey... If I can just stay away from the fucking whiskey I think I'll be alright.
Catshoes might be there. She's another co-worker, a new friend of mine and a long time friend of Purp. She and I get along, and she seems to give at least a little bit of a crap about what I'm going through.
I know what I want to do here – I want to keep writing about what's happening, and I want to write about what's already gone down. There's a lot to tell.
I hope I've got it in me to tell it, and to tell it true.
7 years ago
