I've been fighting a cold lately, and I'm afraid I'm not winning the battle. Plus, I've been really busy. Here are the past three days in a nutsack:
Tuesday: Worked until 4 left for Mediation PR Meeting then went to meet my musical director to discuss Oklahoma then left him to see my buds Pauline and MB, we were supposed to see "Shaun of the Dead," but we didn't see it because the theater was closed so we went to a bar and watched the Red Sox, gossiped and discussed sex after pregnancy, and then I went back home to Corbie.
Wednesday: Up early to deliver a presentation then to weekly PR meeting fought with David met with Evie on story then worked on Alzhiemer's strategy then left to go meet Corb at home then went to Norton Singers monthly meeting to report on Jekyll and Hyde then came home to watch Red Sox win.
Thursday: Felt like a wad of snog for most of the day, left at two and slept until Corbie came over, picked up kids and went to Cracker Barrel (or, as we like to call it, the Crack Bucket) then came home did homework with kids kissed Corbie passionately in the basement tucked kids in and here I am.
Oh. And then there's the David story, nestled neatly within that string of run-on sentences.
Today's REAL story: Always let your best friends plan your coming out party (whether you like it or not)
I don't know if David's my best friend at work, really, but he's pretty close to it. David is the one I told "the truth" to in New York City, and he cut me of at the pass by saying "Oh Ted, everyone knows that you're queer as a three dollar bill."
Think Fred Astaire mated with Gollum, and you've got a fairly good picture of what David looks like--thin, a natty dresser, angular chin, Scandinavian in extraction, dark, wispy, balding hair, blue eyes. He has long, thin fingers, is married, has two kids, has a sharp wit, he knows five different languages, is an attorney...and, oh yes, we're all convinced he'll be coming out in about 2.5 years.
Which may of course be why he's been so fascinated with my life. Seriously. He just laps up my life adventures like a kitten to milk. And since I'm so fond of David, I've found that, since I've told him (at Peg's urging), I've confided in him, more and more.
But here's David's dark side: he can horribly manipulative and competitive, especially when he gets peeved. And yesterday, we had a bit of an argument. After working two late nights on the Alzheimer's project, I turned it over to David and Joe on Tuesday, because I had to rush off to the Mediation meeting.
That's all well and good, but after I returned from my training session to the weekly PR meeting, he announced to everyone that he had spent the entire evening making "massive changes" to the PR plan. As if what I put together was a piece of crap. I called him on it, and he wasn't pleased with that.
That afternoon, he went to lunch with a bunch of people to say goodbye to our intern. I couldn't, because I had a 12:30 meeting, but when he came back, I went to see him, to talk over a matter we were handling together.
"You were quite the topic at lunch today," he said, his blue eyes twinkling.
"I was?" I asked. "What do you mean?"
"Oh, don't worry, it was only in the most positive sense," he said. "Ted, I have to tell you how proud I am of you, and how far you've come this past year."
"So you were all talking about my personal life," I said, frowning.
"Well, it kind of came up," he replied. "But everyone was REALLY positive about it!"
Okay. Hmmm. Time to get a different take on this one. I traveled into my boss Joe's office.
"So I hear I was the topic of conversation at lunch," I said.
Joe grimaced. "Oh. Yeah. David brought it up."
"Yeah. I mean, he said later he thought everyone knew, but as he was talking, all I could think was that he really shouldn't be getting into it without you there. I mean, everyone was really cool about it, but I took him aside afterward and said, 'Dude, you really shouldn't have gone about that,' and he said, 'I really wasn't thinking.'"
"David doesn't 'not think' about anything" I said, "He knows I'm not trying to make a big deal about it!"
"I know that, too. I was kind of surprised he brought the whole thing up."
What's interesting is that it's the second time David has used the "you were the talk of the table" line on me--he also said that after my friend Jen's wedding, but then switched it to--"between me and my wife." Meaning, I think, that David has become a one-man band when it comes to blowing my rainbow horn.
Bottom line? I tried being angry, really I did. I even called Joe and asked whether I should get in touch with Human Resources. But the truth of the matter, is...well...
I really don't care.
Hey, let him say what he's got to say. I have nothing to be ashamed of, frankly. I am what I am, and I'm with a guy that I love, and we've been together for almost six months now, and if David finds that fascinating or scandalous or somewhat titillating, or even if he's jealous...if it makes for good dinner conversation...well...
So be it. Life goes on.
In this life, you love who you love. And that love is composed of so much more than just the physical: it's not just the sex of the person, or the size or shape, or the make of their eyes or their gentle smile, or the shape of their fingers...although all of those things on Corbett are totally lovely and I could just kiss him every time I see him...and I do, so often. But real love gets down deeper than that--it's an adoration of the soul of a person, a connection with WHO they are, more than anything else. And when you have that...when you get to that point...when you reach the point where they will forevermore be a part of you, where you can sense their presence in a room without even opening your eyes...then it really doesn't matter much, does it, if B. David Hammerstram decides to make your life the object of small talk...because when you've got something much larger than small talk, when you've got something that you can feel proud and totally happy about, and say, "this is mine" to...well, when you can say that, when you know it in your gut, then all the small talk in the world is just so much dust in the wind, innit?
Besides, as I said to Joe before I left his office that day...
All I have to do is wait until David comes out.
Revenge is a dish best served cold.