It’s back to work today. My holiday is over. I’d rather do just about anything else. At least it’s only today and tomorrow. I’ll work from home on Friday. Still? I don’t want to have to go to work. I love my job, but due to issues at work, it has made me dread going in. Plus, I didn’t sleep well last night, and I’m feeling a bit out of sorts. Maybe once I get to work, it will be better, but I know there are a few things on my to do list, especially one particular meeting, that I am dreading. Oh well, c’est la vie.
Thankfully, today is a holiday for me. The university decided to give us a four day weekend. It’s a good thing too. I need a day of recovery. Our weather has been crappy. It rained all day yesterday, not to mention that our air quality has been particularly bad because of the Canadian wildfires. These two things in combination created a perfect storm for a major migraine. The nausea was especially bad with this one. I ended up having to not only take my full arsenal of migraine medication but also my anti-nausea medicine. These medicines in combination make it difficult to stay awake and can usually take a day to recover. They helped to end the migraine and nausea, but I’m really glad I have the day off to recover.
I don’t have to go back to work until Wednesday. I’m working from home today, and Monday and Tuesday are holidays. I have no plans for my four day weekend. Most likely, Isabella and I will just have a relaxing weekend at home. For my American readers, do you have any plans for Independence Day?
Tomorrow, my grandmama would have been 100 years old. I lost her nearly 10 years ago, and a day never passes that I don’t think about her. I think she was the only person in this world that loved me unconditionally. She taught me a lot of life lessons. One of the many things that she taught me was how to cook. My mother never cared to teach me how to cook. She was only intent on teaching my sister how to cook, who to this day can barely cook a can of soup. My sister did master cornbread, but I doubt anyone could really live on cornbread alone. Anyway, I’m off topic.
Mama tried to teach my sister how to cook so she’d have the “skill” when she got married. My grandmama taught me how to cook because she recognized it was something I loved to do. I can’t remember Grandmama ever using a recipe. She had a box full of them that she’d cut out of magazines or newspapers. The box mostly sat on top of her refrigerator untouched. She cooked by instinct and years of practice. I’ve never known a better cook.
Part of it was the fresh ingredients she grew herself, but another part of it was that she cooked with love. I’m not going to try to be modest here because I’m a damn good cook. I learned to make Grandmama’s recipes from her showing me step by step. I also learned a lot from watching Food Network back when it was about cooking and not food competitions.
If I ever found a man I wanted to marry but he needed convincing, I think if I cooked for him, I’d have a ring on my finger before dessert. When I have cooked for or talked about cooking to non-family members, they all say I’d make a great husband to a lucky man. I think my charm and personality would help, but I’ve yet to find the Mr. Right. Again, I’m off topic.
I miss my Grandmama every day. Whenever I cook, I think of her. For years after she passed away, I’d round the corner in her house or walk through the kitchen and expect her to be there. At first, it made me so sad every time she wasn’t. Eventually, the expectation became less and less, but things remind me of her every day. For example, when I was young, we ate supper with Grandmama and Granddaddy every Wednesday night. She would often cook food she new I loved, but at some point in my life she got convinced that I loved meatloaf. I don’t know where she got that notion from, and I never had the heart to tell her that I hate meatloaf. If I had to eat it, I preferred hers, but it was not a favorite by a long shot. Nowadays, I’ll sometimes make a meatloaf and think of her. I always convince myself that it is something I want, and while, like Grandmama, I can cook a pretty good meatloaf, it also reminds me of how much I dislike meatloaf.
I loved her dearly, and I don’t think I’ll ever stop missing her.
I slept like the dead last night. Not even Isabella could wake me until 5 am. I still don’t feel completely rested and wish I could just go back to bed. Alas, I cannot go back to sleep. I have to go to work today. I seem to be the only one who will be there today. It should be a quiet day. Most days during the summer are; however, you never know. Anyway, I am far too sleepy to write much today. I hope all of you had a wonderful day and a wonderful week ahead. Until next time…
I am so glad it’s Friday, and I am working from home today. It’s been an exceedingly rough week, and I am pretty sure I could not have put up with it for another day. I’ve had a migraine nearly all week long. Thankfully, yesterday was better. I just want to be able to relax this weekend.
I hope you all have a great weekend. Does anyone have any special plans for the weekend?
List three books that have had an impact on you. Why?
1) Giovanni’s Room by James Baldwin
This is the first book about gay men I ever bought or read. Though I’ve always found it a sad book, it instilled in me a love of gay literature. I could probably name similar books. The first (sort of) gay book I tried to read, I checked out of the public library. It was Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil and once I figured out it was about a gay man, I quickly returned it hoping no one would see if checked out a book with gay people in it. Of course, that was stupid for two reasons. First, this was back when you signed the little card pasted in the book cover when you checked out the book, and second, half the patrons of the library had already checked out and read the book. So, my signature was just one of many. I doubt anyone would have thought anything of it, but when you’re a closeted teenager who is scared to death of someone thinking he’s gay, you often don’t think rationally. So, when I was in college, I went to the Barnes and Noble’s and bought Giovanni’s Room and was careful no one knew what I was reading.
2) Guns of August by Barbara Tuchman
Since I first took a class on World War I in undergrad, I have been fascinated by the war. It made me a firm believer in pacifism. I remember reading the first chapter of Guns of August which describes the funeral of King Edward VII of Great Britain. Reading that, more than anything else I’ve ever read (with the possible exception of Edith Wharton’s Age of Innocence), made me feel like I was standing on the side of the street watching the funeral procession. The description of the long line of dignitaries is so wonderfully descriptive. Tuchman’s writing convinced me that history can tell a wonderful story. History didn’t have to be boring and dry.
3) Acqua Alta by Donna Leon
This one might seem like an odd one, but it introduced me to Leon’s main protagonist of Commissario Guido Brunetti. The Commissario style of interrogation taught me a very valuable lesson when conducting oral histories. Brunetti would ask a question and then sit there until he got an answer. His belief was that people want to fill the silence, and you just have to wait them out. Oral history is a lot like that. It’s not like radio or television where you don’t want dead air; that’s fine in an oral history. Silence can sometimes tell you more than the answer, but people will always try to fill the void, so you sit quietly until they do.
What would be your answer?
*Wordpress has prompts for blog posts, and I haven’t been inspired enough to use one until the question above.
I went to bed very early last night. I had a headache and just couldn’t stay awake. Of course, I got up at 4 am because I bet you can guess why. Now, it’s Monday. At least this will be a short work week, just three days. I’m leaving for my retreat on Thursday, and I can’t wait to get away.
“I have learned over the years that the nicest thing I can do is to just say to myself, “Good Morning Darling, I love you; we’re going to have a really great day today.”
― Louise Hay
“It’s time to start living the life you’ve imagined.”
― Henry James
“I hope everyone that is reading this is having a really good day. And if you are not, just know that in every new minute that passes, you have an opportunity to change that.”
― Gillian Anderson
I am so glad that it’s finally Friday. Even though this was a short week because of the Monday holiday, it felt like a long week. Yesterday, I kept thinking it was Wednesday, not Thursday, and the day before Tuesday, not Wednesday. So, I did not write a quote post yesterday. I’m going to make up for it today with three quotes.
While I have never followed Louis Hay’s advice above, I’m going to try to do that each morning. Thinking positively doesn’t always work because of brain chemistry or bad things that happen during the day. However, I think we should at least start out with a positive thought for the day. I love the quote by Henry James because it reinforces the idea of the power of positive thinking. If we do our best to live the life we imagine for ourselves, then we might just achieve it.
I just have the feeling today is going to be a good day. At least, that is my hope. I’m working from home today, as I do on most Fridays, and that makes for a good start to the day. I’m also excited about next week. Monday through Wednesday are probably not going to be great days. I will be working in the office, but on Thursday, I leave for my weekend retreat. I had originally planned to leave on Friday, but there was an option to add an extra day, so I did. I’m sure I will be nervous. I’ve never spent that much time with just gay men, but I’m looking forward to it. I’ve always been awkward around men, but I’m going to try to change that.
So, to quote Gillian Anderson, “I hope everyone that is reading this is having a really good day. And if you are not, just know that in every new minute that passes, you have an opportunity to change that.”
Mwah! 😘 Kisses ’til Sunday. (Don’t worry, my usual Moment of Zen will still be posted tomorrow along with the usual Pics of the Day.)
I’ll admit it, I don’t understand a lot of people. One minute they are friendly, and the next, they won’t even talk to you. It’s always a mystery to me when people seemingly get pissed off at me. I ask myself, “What did I do to make them act this way?” Most people consider me a nice guy who’s smart and kind. I’d do anything for my friends.
They are those who have a dislike of me from the start, usually either because I’m gay or Southern. You’d be amazed at the number of people up north who discriminate against Southerners. Of course, most people just want to hear my accent and have no problem with me being Southern, though sadly a lot of people hear a Southern accent and think you’re dumb. It’s a bad stereotype. Think of really dumb people in movies or television; they more often than not have a southern accent, though usually a really bad one.
Then, there are the people who you thought were your friend, but as Heidi Klum would say on Project Runway, “One day you’re in; the next day you’re out.” I think those are the ones that hurt you the most. There are few things as devastating as when someone you thought was a friend turns their back to you. As gay people, we often have to deal with this when we come out and you find out who your true friends are.
Of course, there are also the users. They use you for their benefit and take advantage of your kindness only to turn on you when you say no. I had a boyfriend like that once. He liked me for exactly two things: I had a car that could take him places and the sex. I mostly didn’t mind the sex part, but only liking me because I could drive him places was something I did mind.
Finally, there are the true friends. When you need them, they are always there for you. They are always there with an encouraging word or an ear to listen to your problems. They are there when you just need to gossip but want to make sure no one else will hear what you have to say. Friends, true friends, will laugh with you and cry with you. They’ll give you a hug when you most need it, and when you’re upset and think you just want to be left alone, they realize that you really need someone, even if you don’t think you do.
I’m not sure why this all popped in my mind, but it’s probably because of a few things going on in my life right now that have me perplexed.
Joe
The Closet Professor 