The parade was nice. Pride Sunday and all being a nice thing. I go the parade and to support the ex and her endeavors with a children's group of Lesbian and Gay Parents at the Unitarian Church. It is a kick to see my kids on the parade float, in this case the back of a flat bed truck. I took a picture of em by my little guy didn't like the ride this year. His sister informs me he took a tumble and worn a sour expression until he met up with cotton candy in Bidwell Park. That's apparently a great cure all.

I camped out in front of Spot (where else) with two women who've been partners for over 30 years and another friend who busted up rather vigorously out of her last relationship. Good folks all. One of the members of my ex-wife's group walked by and said "Michael, coming to Bidwell to look for boys?" That was her attempt at kidding. I tried to smirk it off. "Maybe I should, since all the women I know are married or gay, to each other," was my weak response. I know she was just fucking around, but it sort of took the sails out of my winds, ya know. I checked in with the chillens who were having a good time at the park with their folks so I took my Sunday paper and retreated to my Delaware Avenue Tower.

It's funny because even though our marriage ended peacefully and with everybody still friends, a peculiar sort of disconnect pops up from time to time. There are people who don't talk to my ex because of the discovery she made about herself and a few who dropped me for well, being there. My friend's lame attempt at humor was a bit of a reminder that there was a club that I'm not really privy too, I know that sound weird. It's has nothing to do with sexual preferences, but more to do with layers of social circles and you can gravitate through some, but not all, least not all the time.

Back at the Spot table, where we inspected all the stuff tossed our way during the parade, one of the partners inquired as to my well-being. I guess I was staring at nothing for a little too long. The other two at the table who were sorting the parade swag. The other "Straight allie" at the table said she hadn't had much use for condoms for sometime. Under normal circumstances, I might have chimed in with a "happy to help" type of comment, but I let it go with a wistful smile.

Probably better off in the long run.

I got a note about my current user sound: It's "The Weight" by The Band with the Staples Singers. It's the version from The Last Waltz, been playing a lot on my mental soundtrack lately.

Gleanings from a Week that had colleagues serenading me with the Batman theme song:

My department was at Chefs yesterday for a lunch with representatives from Playboy television. They were trying to sell us on more Playboy on Demand features when in walked an impressive array of stereotypically dressed Secret Service guys, a large collection of democratic syncophants, and finally Bill and Hillary Clinton. We were sequested off to one side as we were "meeting." The Clintons and their party were given the large room at Chefs with Bill and Hillary opposite each other surrounding by people who have waaaaay too much money to give to the NY Democratic Party.

Regardless of how you feel about each one, it was kind of cool that they circulated through the restaurant and handshakes and kind words were exchanged. Our waitress asked if we wanted a visit. I in a fog of what the fuck, said why not. So, I had my brush with greatness, suggesting the President get the spaghetti parmed. As I left, I got a shout of good recommendation from the head table.

Leaving was a site. I can't recall even seeing quite so many black tahoes parked on Seneca street, matched only by men in bad dark suits with non-matching earpieces. Such a day...

Got an offer from Time Warner today, not for the job I'm doing, but one I can do with one hand tied......so I took it, figuring a merger this big there's bound to be fallout and I may bounce back into place, and it's easier to attract interest if you're not on the dole. The need for benefits makes it easier to suck on your pride. As they were offering me the gig, the attitude was "We know you are better than this..." which made me feel good.

Too bad about the Sabres, but that ends my long days for awhile. Might get out more meet real people at spot instead of being in such a hurry.

I have my bumper sticker in place on my little buzzbox of a car. One of the techs at work saw it and wondered if (e:strip) is something you do before you (e:fuck). I couldn't help but giggle.

Almost to the weekend,

Hang in there, peeps

After a full day, I climbed into bed and tried sleeping. About 3 in the morning, I woke up (sorta of) and heard a rustling sound that sounded like somebody was walking on the roof. I knew that couldn't be right. I woke up and nearly fell off my bed (okay, I did).

A bat had worked its way into the apartment and was circling looking for an exit. I threw open my bedroom windows screen and tumbled out of the room to let my eyes adjust. Stupid animal kept circling the room. I went out into my living room and turned a light on to avoid locating my coffee table with my shin.

What does the bat do? follows me out into the room and starts swirling my room. I go to my kitchen and take up my broom as a method of defense. Me in a pair of shorts and a broom doesn't exactly make a fear inspiring site. I pop open the apartment door, thinking maybe I can gently spank him out. A comical first attempt has me waving my broom like a broken shudder.

He (as only men are that stupid to try it again) comes around and meets my broom's business. He gets the idea and changes course into the stairwell. I close the door and breathe comically heavily.

Suddenly every noise made me jump. Nothing like a rat with wings to heighten awareness.

Stay cool, peeps -- I'm in the adelphia kiosk for the game tonight. Love to report it's a good vantage point but there are far too many polyester clad twerps in red jackets with authority complexes to let you really enjoy

Later on all

Glad I got a chance to meet a gaggle of peeps on saturday night. I had a fine time in spite of showing up way too early, and a healthy round of social anxiety (saying something stupid too soon, etc) and sundry other neuroses that are me. It was a lot of fun. Perhaps I should come out of the shell more often.

Earlier in the day, freed up from all responsibilities, I plugged my ipod into my dashboard and took off on a drive. Found myself north and east of Lockport at Becker Farms. The journey to and from was more interesting than the destination, but a Becker Farms pie did come home with me. You head out that way and you get treated to a drawbridge outside Gasport as well as a pretty wide swath of yard sales. So, saturday was great all the way around.

The Sabres lost last night and I believe it's because my little sister left us hanging. She is helping her S.O. prep to sell his North Buffalo house. They are doing this on their own schedule, so it left me a little pissed off when she called at 4:30 yesterday to say they couldn't come out to my folks to eat. I got my own kids out there, who were eager to see their aunt, only to be auntless. I haven't quite figured out my level of pissed offedness (is that a word?). It's not a thing, but it kind of is. There are ways of being a person and she didn't come through, so harrumph!
So, sunday left a strange taste in my mouth.

Monday is promising. The holiday inn on delaware has a pool club set up and I've been buying a membership for a number of years now. It's not the greatest spot, but it is close so you can either swim without driving forwever and get some exercise or have somebody bring you a drink poolside or in pool. There are virtues to both and I discovered I have enough money for opening day (today)(yay).

May have to go soak my head.....

Happy Day, ya'all