spun's Journal: Weekend in Santa Fe

I'm feeling a bit blah right now, but I had a great weekend. Micah always knows how to cheer me up. He was Jenny's friend before we met, and he didn't like me that much when she and I first started going out. He didn't think I treated her well enough. I won him over though. Now, he's totally reversed position and he's pissed at her. She can't understand why. I told her, "Well, you acted very selfishly, made a huge mistake, and hurt someone he cares about."

There may be another part to it. Micah has a thing for "daddies," older gay men who pay for everything. But he always screws it up because he's not being true to himself, and he doesn't really love these men. I think he's mad at her because he sees himself in her and he's pissed at himself.

They are two peas in a pod. To be blunt, they're both spoiled little princesses, and they both know it. Micah's friends always joke about "The Micah Show," which is playing anytime Micah is around, and you'd better not upstage the star. I kid, he's not that bad, and he's had years more practice at being a cute and endearing princess, whereas Jenny just comes across as demanding and bitchy. I still tell myself this is all just part of her learning to assert herself. She never had the self-esteem to be a princess before I met her.

I'd packed everything the night before and taken it with me to work so that Jenny and Mr. Y. could have the house for the weekend. But I'd forgotten my cell phone, so I called and asked Jenny to run it down. She came down with the saddest look on her face, so of course I had to ask why. I've mentioned she's a fantastic actress, right? She swears she is emotionally honest, and would never use her powers for evil, but sometimes...

It turns out her parents aren't going to give her as much money as she'd thought they would to bail her out of her self created mess. I had told her she needed to help pay for rent and bills if she was going to be using our apartment. No more coasting on my dime so she can persue her art. So she asked her parents for money rather than immediately looking for a job. But it turns out that they are kind of on my side, what a shocker! They are good people, and they know their daughter had just treated me like shit without even thinking through the consequences for herself.

I keep telling myself, she's got self esteem now. She has perspective. She knows how to make herself a better person. That's enough, man, I've done enough, I've given her the tools. I can't do the work for her. It's just a bit of an ego blow, which is just a way of knowing you still have some things to let go of. Jenny, Jenny, Jenny. Sigh.

I'm the sap who said, sure, I'll lend you the money. But lend, not give. And I'm still honest with her. I tell her I think she's fucking up, and I tell her exactly how. And, to be brutally honest with myself, it's something I can hold over her head if she chooses to be a thoughtless bitch to me again. I know, I'm a sick sad puppy, don't rub it in.

I drove up after work and met Micah at the restaraunt he works at, the San Francisco Bar & Grill, right on the plaza. Now Santa Fe, for those who have never been, is a beautiful town, and the plaza is the prettiest part. It's all old adobe, or made to look like it if it's newer. The plaza is the center of downtown Santa Fe. It's surrounded by upscale shops, galleries, and restaraunts. Tiny streets, little more than allies, wind around downtown, which is built on a vaguely circular layout like many cities that were built before cars. It reminds me quite a bit of small villages in Europe.

He had to work until ten, so I got his keys and headed over to his place, which he shares with our friend Jeanna. They live in an ancient adobe building just blocks from downtown. The walls are at least a foot and a half thick. Rough timbers support the roof, made of planks and more adobe over the top. Probably, this being the modern day, there is some kind of higher-tech sealant up there now. I mean, it doesn't leak when it rains, so there must be something more up there than just sun dried clay.

After he got back, we were off to his friend Dave's birthday party. I hadn't met Dave before, but I had met his wife Sharon. I've also met a lot of the other people who were there, all very cool friends of Micah. I said before that Micah always knows all the hot chicks in town. Well this is not entirely true. He knows all the cool people in town, many of them just happen to be hot chicks. He dousn't actually know any bitchy hot chicks, which is astounding. This somehow happens within a month of him moving to a new place. Socially, the man is a genius.

Okay, I may as well come right out with it. No, I didn't even try to get laid this weekend. I need sociality more than I need sex or love right now. Just friends, you know? Micah's friends all like me a lot, and everyone is happy that I'm going to be spending more time up there. Hanging out with Micah has been hard before now because of our opposite schedules and Jenny's theater projects. He works nights and weekends, she does her plays mostly at night and on the weekends.

Everyone had already heard about Jenny breaking up with me before I got up there, bless Micah's gossipy little heart. So I didn't have to tell the whole damn story over and over, which would have been a bummer. You don't win friends being negative. That's a privilege that comes later, so even though several people went out of their way to offer a sympathetic ear this weekend, I didn't talk much about it. People would say, "Heard about you and Jenny..." and I would say, "Yeah, it sucks. It was pretty rough but we're still going to be friends. I was mad at her for a while, but I've forgiven her and I'm doing all right now." And that would be that.

Now, Micah would probably love the fact that I've been talking about him. He wouldn't even care what I'd said. But he'd hate me if I didn't mention his performance that night, a gift to Dave. He did his "Roxy Roxxane" drag show. There is no way that Micah can pull off being a woman. He's tall, skinny, and has a beard. Worse, he doesn't bother to tuck and he's pretty well hung. He's incredibly cute in the face, though, in an elfin sort of way. The boy was a high priced male companion (if you know what I mean! Wink wink, nudge nudge, say no more!) in San Francisco at one time, and that is a very competitive market. He's only thirty one or thiry two now. Well, anyways, he's still got it, and he had us all hooting and hollering during his act, even the straight guys.

The party was pretty big when we got there, but it gradually tapered off . By four, Micah, Dave, Sharon, and me were really the only ones still conscious. I'd been taking it easy because I had to drive Micah and me back to his place. It was really only about ten blocks, so we could have walked if I'd wanted to get really trashed. The only problem is I get pretty bad hangovers.

Okay, actually I have awful, hideous, mind bending hangovers most times I drink, which is why I don't that often. Even if I drink water and take lots of advil before. Well, I was hungover the next day. I can't imagine how Micah felt, and he had to go to work the next morning on two hours sleep. He's a trooper. And by "trooper" I mean "Master Class Profesional Alcoholic."

He probably weighs a hundred and thirty pounds. He somehow manages to drink every single day with no apparant ill effects. He holds down a job, as a bartender mind you, where he drinks on the job mind you, and does very well. The owners love him. He takes in two to four hundred dollars a weekend in tips alone. The other employees dote on him because he's totally a sweet, loving person. And he tips out well. The customers love him because he can sense when to be friendly and folksy, and when to back off and just be professional and prompt.

He can mix brown liquor with clear, throw in a few beers, maybe a little wine and then a few more shots, and wake up feeling fine. I drink seven beers over the course of five hours, and the next day I wan't to rip my own head off to stop the pain. If it were just even that, I could manage. But I also have a queasy stomach and feel naseous, but almost never can I manage the release of actually throwing up. And that's not even the worst part. I can't think right for two days afterwards. But I do like the effects.

Well, I felt terrible the next day, so I came home after driving Micah in to work and fell back asleep. He usually walks, but he woke up late, suprise. I woke up at three, almost when he would be getting off work, and began nosing about looking for something to do. His house is a pigsty but I really didn't feel like pitching in and straightening up. He's not one of those fastidious gays. In fact, the only really fastidious thing about him is his garden.

It's beautiful, but small. In the two months since Jenny and I had come up for his housewarming party at his new place, he'd packed the front beds with flowers and bushes, lined them with river stone sunk into the ground, put in a path, bought a garden sphere sculpture thingy, and gotten rid of most of the elm suckers. If you know anything about elm, you'll know that getting rid of the damn stuff is a pain.

Nosing through his and Jeanna's music collection, I came across a CD that I knew I needed to play. It had a Donkey Kong scaffolding with bloodthirsty care bear looking things climbing it. The only thing written on it was "Kare Bear Mafia." I played a few albums I know I like, Scissor Sisters & The Killers latest. Then I popped in KBM. Holy. Fucking. Shit. If you are a nerd, and you somehow have never heard this, RUN, do not walk, to the nearest purveyor of musical discs. You have no right to call yourself a nerd or a geek if you've never heard this album. It is the ultimate in nerd-core. I can't do their sound justice, so I must resort to their myspace page "sounds like" box:

Fagangsta Rap, Wonderful Colors, Atari Sex Noises, Zappers Fireing, Lazer Tag Beeps, Dragon Punches, Smurf Farts, Big Birds' Orgasm, Rainbow Brite Record Scratching, Bubbles poping, Saturday Morning Cartoons, Pokemon Orgies, with a healthy dose of Kare Bear Stares.

And even that doesn't do it justice. Holy crap, http://www.myspace.com/karebearmafia Check it out. They are M.C.Donalds,Orkgazm, and Kaptain N and they are the funniest shit I've heard since Flight of the Conchords. Dirty, dirty, foul mouthed nerd rappers. Hot.

My work kept calling and texting me. I hadn't told anyone at work about the divorce until today. Something about the SMTP servers being down. It turned out not to be true, it was something our network staff had done over the weekend. I could barely get any reception at Micah's, so I had to resort to texting. Gah. Passwords over SMS? I know, but it's behind several firewalls. It's a completely internal spool for when the guys at the state who handle all state email muck something up, which happens more than it should. Me and another tech there made a nice little Linux high availability mail spool out of a couple of old computers and four spare network cards. Which is why it suprised me to hear it was down, and why I was pretty damned relieved to hear it wasn't my screw up.

Well, after Micah got home we went over to Dave and Sharon's again. We hung out for a while trying to kill the keg from the night before. Oh, man! I almost forgot about the lesbians from the night before! Micah and the butch one fell in love, it was adorable. They may even start dating, omigawd! I can't really picture it. I, on the other hand, put my foot in my mouth in a completely endearing way.

We were talking about San Francisco, one of them said something dirty, and they all started laughing and making same fairly raunchy inuendos. Before I could even think, I piped in with "You're a bunch of naughty little lesbians, aren't you?" Which they are, but that's not the point. I'm a fairly straight looking guy. I can't say that! I mean, not until I've demonstrated more lesbian cred. Which I promptly did by looking mortified and begging their forgiveness. So they loved it because I'd not only immediately noticed my faux pas, but humbled myself and then proceded to play along as they jokingly ribbed me about it. We all had a great laugh.

Anyway, back to Saturday. We hung out shooting the breeze with Dave and Sharon and a few friends until eleven. Micah wanted to go see a friend perform downtown at his favorite bar, El Paseo. We headed downtown and miraculously found parking right in front. Parking in Santa Fe is atrocious, most nights we would have circled and circled and ended up five blocks away.

His friend was great, the band was a whole lot of fun, though I can't remember their name. El Paseo is a working class bar. It's a favorite hangout of a lot of folks who work in downtown Santa Fe. The bartenders there are all good friends with Micah, of course. So of course they had all heard my sad story already. I had a pint on the house.

It was nice being out in public as a single guy again. I flirted a little, and got some appreciative looks from some cute girls. Gone are the days of me as an awkward, antisocial dork. I'm hot property now, and I know it. I'm witty and I have interesting stories, but I know how to listen. I've had plenty of women and men tell me I'm attractive, and had dozens of sexual partners, so at least some of them weren't lying. I make good money. I'm willing to consider a family, with the right woman. I'm sensitive, but no pushover. I'm open with my emotions, but I can reign it in and be a man when I need to. I'm a fucking catch, and I know it.

So it was good to get out and mingle a little. It helped that I'd already decided I wasn't going to hook up with anyone this weekend. That takes the pressure off, you know? So I flirted, a glance, a brush in passing and a smile, you know, casually. The chicks seemed to dig it. Hehe. I do crack myself up sometimes, with my arrogant attitude. You just have to imagine me saying it all to myself in that Stuart Smalley, "I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and gosh darn it, people like me!" kind of voice to get the correct impression.

Micah had to work Sunday, too, and he got home late. I just lazed around the house and finished Stephen Baxter's Manifold: Time. Great book, very Olaf Stapledon. I'm a huge Sci Fi/Fantasy nerd. Chances are, if you've read it, so have I. Or at least something by the same author, if they are any good.

Jenny called and left a hurt sounding message, When would I be back? The puppy will be lonely and she has rehearsal. Turns out she'd tried to call Micah and he'd snubbed her, didn't answer her text, either. He didn't want to deal with her just yet. I had told him, "Micah, I'm the one she DID it to and I've forgiven her, chill out." But she asked me and I had to tell her the truth: Micah is mad at her.

I explained to her that I had been very fair in everything I'd said. I hadn't tried to make her look like the bad person. In fact, I'd gone out of my way to show her side of things. Turns out, it's just such a messed up situation that most people who are good and decent but not smart enough not to judge others, are going to judge her.

Later, as I was driving home, the sunset peeked through the towering storm clouds, turning the whole sky into this incredible scene of majesty and power. I hadn't felt so bitter-sweet in a while. Going home to a lonely house, staring into the face of the infinite.

On Friday Jenny had told me that we'd get together Monday to talk things over and go over some details. I still haven't had a chance to sit down with her and ask her, why? Why like that? And of course there are all the little details of a divorce, of separating two lives that have been so intertwined for seven years. And she hadn't mentioned anything on Sunday when we'd spoken, so naturally I assumed we'd be talking today.

Never make assumptions. That's one of the four agreements of the Toltec path. The others are: Never take anything personally, always be impeccable with your word, and always do your best. The first two mean exactly what they sound like, the last two need clarification. Being impeccable with your word means not lying and not saying things to hurt yourself or others. Always do your best means, always know that you ARE doing your best, given the circumstances.

Well, I was only assuming someone would stick to their word, or at least have the courtesy to tell me otherwise before breaking an appointment. Again. Then there is always "Don't take things personally." I've just been failing so much recently. But then again, I know I'm always doing the best I can, given the life experiences I've had until now, and the things I'm currently experiencing. Hehe, it's the South American version of Buddhism!

Anyway, of course Jenny has had to reschedule a rehearsal and can't come over tonight. And of course she forgot to tell me Sunday because she was so sad about Micah hating her now. So of course I have to reassure her that, no, Micah doesn't hate her, he's just mad at her because she's been a big dolt and hurt a friend's feelings quite badly. Big sap that I am. But I still lay into her, and I do hold the free rent and bills over her head, and she cries appropriately, and offers to cancel her rehearsal, and I say no of course not, and I forgive her, but she had better not take my friendship for granted like she took our partnership for granted.

We are, ahem, how to put this politely? Better off apart. I know. Hell, I know I can do much better. I deserve someone who isn't going to be pushing my buttons all the time, don't I? A little slack? I know I asked the universe for relationships that would teach me things about myself, but I was young and foolish, can I go back on that now?

But I still love her, and it still hurts. And the house is still lonely at night. Even with the adorable puppy. It now just makes me so, again, bitter-sweet. On the one hand, she's an adorable little ball of fluff that loves me unconditionally. On the other, of course, she reminds me of Jenny.