I was tersely chastised by Kate after my last post.

I am not to make her cry before noon! I honestly couldn’t agree with her more. The crying before noon thing is completely overrated.

Besides, I have larger problems to deal with. For starters, the largest pan we have in this God forsaken house? The very largest? Only large enough to fry up 5 pieces of bacon at a time. I’m a 12-pieces-of-bacon-at-a-time kind of guy. I’m not, however, a rinse-and-reuse kind of guy. So that leaves me with a low bacon count each and every morning. Now that’s something to cry about.

Equally tear-worthy is my parent’s revived love affair with Yanni. YANNI. They went to see him last night. And before you ask (because I know I sure did when I found out that he was even still alive), yes. Yes, he still has the mustache. So now I find myself turning up my iTunes in order to drown out the free audio sample of Written on the Wind, one of Yanni’s latest tracks that my father has taken to listening to over and over again.

On a brighter side of things, if AAU keeps it up, I won’t have to get a job until 2026. They sent me another check yesterday. I don’t know where the money is coming from or why it’s owed to me, but these are questions I really care not to ask.

(Also, quickly, just to add to the last post, I never did speak with him. He wasn’t home. I emailed. He hasn’t emailed back. I’m over it.)

In a moment of total weakness, complete fear, and overwhelming nausea

I called him last night. I didn’t call to say “hello.” I didn’t call to check in on the cats. I called to hear him say that I’m going to be fine and that I’m healthy and will remain healthy for years to come.

I’m getting tested on Tuesday. I would imagine that, for the average person, getting tested is a stressful experience. In this situation I am not the average person. For nine months I slept with someone who is HIV positive. Of course, we were nothing but safe, but there’s nothing 100% about this situation. I don’t necessarily have it, but I could. I could very well have it.

My friends have repeatedly assured me that I’m fine and, when in the proper mood, I can even assure myself of that. I want to hear it from him, though. He’s the expert here. Or I want to hear the truth. I want to hear him say, “Yes, Taylor. You could very well have become infected.” I just want to hear something from his lips.

I have to keep reminding myself that the test is not the bad guy here. The test is the good guy. If I have it, I have it and that’s that. The test isn’t going to make me or break me. The test can only reveal the truth of the matter.

I feel like I would know - like my body would be sending me messages. I grip tightly to the few facts I do know about HIV infection. In my head, those few facts are almighty. They are Truth and Absolute. According to those facts, I am fine. I am healthy.

How do you break up with a friend?

How do you tell her you just don’t want to see her anymore? It’s not like when you break up with a boyfriend. You can’t cite the same violations. You can’t say “This just isn’t working for me.” because there isn’t a “this.” And we’re talking about a friendship, not a relationship, so there really shouldn’t be much to work at. I don’t have to work at any of my other friendship. They just work and that’s that. They work because they work.

So when a friendship doesn’t work, what can you do? Especially when this friendship has been going on for years. Nine years. It used to be a wonderful friendship - a best friendship. We were young, though. We we young. We were young. I’m not young anymore. Well, of course I am, but I’m not that young anymore. I feel like I’ve moved out and moved on. I’ve gone places and seen things and met people. She’s yet to do those things and I just don’t feel like we fit anymore.

Would it be wrong to tell her that we just don’t fit anymore? I already say so much. And that’s when I actually speak to her. I never return her calls. The only time she ever manages to catch me on the phone is when I pick up too fast. I tell her that I want to be left alone - that I don’t want to go out and I don’t want to watch movies or play board games. I don’t want to listen to her crappy work stories, crappy school stories, or crappy boyfriend stories. I don’t want to ride in her trashy car or look at her trashy outfits. I don’t want I don’t want I don’t want.

How do you tell a friend, after nine years, that you just can’t do it anymore?

I saw a commercial before I went to bed last night.

It was some file-for-your-taxes-online kind of thing. It shows these few-second cuts of this woman checking her mailbox out in front of her house. Finally, on the last one, she gets so frustrated that her mailbox is empty again she rips it out of the ground, swings it around and starts screaming “Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!” Then it says, “Don’t be that woman.” Can I tell you that I am about 14 seconds away from being that woman?

More importantly, I suppose, I have an interview today. Some office job at a local newspaper. I think I have a pretty good chance of getting it, which would be nice because a) I would be making money and b) if I work 30 hours a week or more I get health benefits. I really enjoy both money and health benefits.

I did receive a nearly $400 refund check from the Academy. I don’t know what they’re giving me that money for but I’m not even going to question it. I’m going to put that right into the back to contribute to my Shiny New Powerbook Fund.

Lastly, I really need to redesign this crap layout. Now that I’m starting to put the finishing touches on Kate’s new layout I can really see just how bad mine is. I’ll work on that.

I’ve had to pee for 53 minutes.

Sometimes, when people tell stories, they pick large, random numbers to exaggerate the humor in the story. When I say that I’ve had to pee for 53 I mean that I’ve actually had to pee for an actual 53 minutes. I woke up at 8 am because the dogs needed breakfast (asparagus, mushroom, and brisket omelette. Ahem) and the dog’s breakfast is just one of the many things that I take care of here now that I’m home. So, as most people do, I had a slight stinging - a little pressure - down in my upper nether region (upper nether? Is that legal?). I skipped up the stairs, ready to start my day. It was going to be a good one! It was going to be a productive one! I was finally going to call the doctor! I was going to get my portfolio all set and ready to go! I was going to - POTTED PLANTS, people. There were potted plants everywhere. Of course, by “everywhere” I mean one in the bathroom sink and three in the tub. I couldn’t very well pee with potted plants draining in the sink and tub! My brother was in the very next room! He could have heard! I wouldn’t have been able to squeeze out a single drop! There wasn’t going to be a pee, a piss, or a piddle until I could get some running water up in that joint. We’re talking 1 hour and 19 minutes later now, and there are still potted plants preventing me from peeing. I’ve been specifically told not to handle the plants. I’ve asked numerous times that the plants be relocated, but my requests have not been met with action. ACTION, people. I NEED ACTION. And now I think we’re heading down an entirely different road.

Something else I need is a job. I’ve only been looking for about three weeks now, but the search has not been going well (hence the needing of the job). I’ve applied to roughly every acceptable restaurant in the area. I even called in to inquire about a data entry job I saw in the paper. Data entry. We’re talking lowest of the low here (no offense, of course). I was always under the impression that primates, robots, and the socially inept took care of data entry nowadays. Apparently not! Equally as apparent, thanks to the lady I spoke with, is that you need experience to be a data enterer. You need to have done a little data entry in the past. This was not a job for a novice. This is was not a job for someone trying to break into the prestigious field of data entry. Having no more experience than a 22-year-old should in mindlessly entering information into a database, I was not hired.

If this isn’t the part where I go hang myself I don’t know when is. I couldn’t very well do it from the shower rod, though, because then I might fall and crush the potted plants that are still in there.

I'm not ashamed to admit that,

when I was a bit younger, I used to dream of being picked to live in a house where I could finally stop being polite and start being real. I never actually auditioned for The Real World but I told myself that, if I had, I would so have been chosen. I just have that sparkle they're looking for.

Now, as much as I knew that couldn't hack it, I also thought that being on Road Rules might have been fun. This, of course, was when Road Rules was more about sky diving and bungie jumping and less about catching pig eyes in your mouth and drinking cow vagina milk shakes.

Having said that, I must now say that the Real World/Road Rules Challenge that MTV has been airing for the past several years makes me angry. Sure, I thought the first season was kind of nice, but it was just a novelty then, seeing guys and gals from different sides of the MTV tracks go at it. Now? Just plain anger making.

Why I stayed up until 2:30 this morning watching episode after horrible episode of that show I'll never know. Maybe because nothing else was on. Or maybe because I really wanted to see if Arissa could make it across The Contraption without falling into the water. Or maybe because, after 4 episodes, I had begun to emotionally invest myself into the lives of these wretched people. I'd like to think that I hadn't emotionally invested myself, but then what would explain the crying that occured when Stephen kind-of sort-of bitch slapped Shane and then got booted off the show, despite Shane's pleas to keep him?

I'll just stop here before I shame myself any further.

I'm expecting an email.

Actually, "expecting" isn't the best word to use here. "Expecting" makes it sound like there is definitely an email with my name on it heading my way. That's really not the case, so I'll just start over.

I'm waiting for a possible email. I'm thinking it won't be here until Thursday. Yesterday was Thursday. I'm talking, like, six more days. I already feel like I've been waiting at least six days, but every time I check it's still not Thursday.

Why is it still not Thursday?

Taylor: I can't stop drinking Shirley Temples.

Kate: Darling, you know, every once in a while, we have these moments

Kate: you know those moments?

Taylor: Which moments, darling?

Kate: Moments where you say something and then I say "THAT WAS THE GAYEST SENTENCE EVER". You know, those moments?

Taylor: HAHAHAHA

Taylor: I do!

Taylor: Did we just have one of those?

Kate: we did, in fact, just have one of those

So Kate was tap dancing at the gay bar

and there's really a whole story to be told there involving the lotus blossom, Harvard, and cheese (in that order), but I'll let her tell it.

New York was, in a word, difficult. More difficult than I had imagined it would be (and I knew it would be hard). I could actually thoroughly enjoy myself when I was with Connie. She lives in Chinatown. He and I never went to Chinatown. Who actually goes to Chinatown? It was when I spent time with Kate and Chris that was a challenge. That stupid bar and stupid 34th street and stupid stupid everything. Of course, I would hate to discount my time spent with them. Just because I was miserable and mopey at that bar doesn't mean it wasn't the right thing for me. And Tuesday with Kate was simply splendid! There was bacon abound!

Of course, there were ten thousand things I wanted to write about, but now that it's come time to write about them all I can think about is the letter I just put in the mail. Perhaps we'll wait.

Also, as soon as DLand comes back up, I'm going to be making some major edits to my archives. I'm going to be removing a large chunk of what I wrote when I started writing in this thing. It served its purpose and now it's time for it to go back to being private.

You know, there isn't much I keep to myself.

For example, I have no problem telling you that my nose hair clipper has been broken and, because of this, up until tonight, my nose hairs were just begging for a French twist. See? There isn't much I keep to myself.

That's why I find it so odd that I'm having trouble writing about what happened last night. I can't seem to put into words how I feel (which, of course, isn't going to stop me from trying). I feel like things have been...righted? Did I really even feel wronged? A month or so ago, certainly. But I haven't felt that way in a while. I really wasn't feeling much of anything. Maybe that's what it is. I'd managed to expunge almost everything I felt towards him. Friends have commented on how well composed I was considering what I went through. Composed? Maybe. Desensitized, more likely. Even after the last week we spent together - the week that went so well - I didn't allow myself to feel much of anything. I'd felt so much already.

I let myself feel again last night. It hurt. It was wonderful. He made me feel again last night.

He made me feel again last night.

That sentiment kind of startled me just now.

Does any of this really change anything? Absolutely and not at all. Am I getting on a plane and hopping coasts once again? Fuck me, no. But this was just what I needed to forgive him - really forgive him. I thought I'd already forgiven him. I'd really just accepted him and all that he'd done. That's very different and very not okay.

My brain has decided to stop working now. I'm feeling a little Rose Nylund - not much going on up there. I'm tired and I have to get up early to catch my bus into the city. I know I couldn't have been any more vague about all this had I tried, but until I get even a vague idea of what's going on, that's all there is to say.

I've been trying to get to New York

for roughly 3 weeks now. Every time I make plans something falls through. I'm beginning to wonder if maybe the city doesn't want me back. Maybe it remembers me from the summer and wasn't impressed.

Or maybe it's just trying to protect me. Maybe New York knows just as well as I do that I might not be ready for the memories quite yet. It might know that its streets and its people and its buildings will all carry memories of him.

New York must know, however, that it also carries closure. It must know that it used to stand for so much more to me. It used to be about other streets, people, and buildings.

I want it to be about other streets, people, and buildings again.

Yes,

Kate introduced me to iTunes. All credit goes to her. Between the $75 she spent at the iTunes music store over the course of a month and the word-of-mouth advertising she's doing, Apple should really send her a nice t-shirt or something.

Let's face it.

I am not in-the-know. There's a cutting edge, and I'm not on it. I couldn't be any further behind the curve. Who do I blame for this? Everyone but myself. I feel that it is the general public's duty to keep me well-informed. I don't like finding out about Jen and Brad's break up 4 days after it happened from my Mother. I just don't like it. This isn't about Jen and Brad's break up, though (as much as I'm sure you wish it was because we haven't heard quite enough about the lately, have we).

This is about iTunes. iTunes! Something that's been around for years! Naturally, I'd heard of it. What everyone failed to tell me is that it is the superior center of playing and organizing my music! ALSO, the iTunes Music Store? It's so awesome that it's not okay. I wish I could go to my local CD shop and buy the Kelly Clarkson/Shrek 2/Phantom of the Opera Compilation CD but I can't! Can I make that CD at the iTunes Music Store? Yessirree Bob.

The best part about iTunes, though? That nifty little blend thing it does between each track! My current playlist (descriptively titled January 11th) is a veritable potporri of tracks and iTunes doesn't care! It seemlessly transitions from Sonique to Bic Runga to Tori Amos covering Nirvana.

So, please and thank you, if, in the future, something new and fantastic comes along? Let me know.

Before I dive into the meat of this entry

I'd just like to say that I really like Since U Been gone by famed American Idol pioneer Kelly Clarkson. I really like the song and, thus, listen to it a lot. Apprently not enough, though, because I just now learned that she does not sing:

Since U Been Gone

I can breathe for the first time

I'm sober and all (yeah yeah)

Thanks to you, I've got what I want

Since you been gone.

but really:

Since U Been Gone

I can breathe for the first time

I'm so movin' on (yeah yeah)

Thanks to you, I've got what I want

Since you been gone.

Which, quite frankly, I'm relieved to hear. I would hate to think Miss Clarkson once had a problem with the sauce.

Now, I also just learned that the priority deadline for both of the schools I'm applying to is February 15th. So, in essence, I have like 15 minutes to get everything in order. I could be freaking out. I probably should be freaking out. But, can I just say? There's me, and there's a ball, and I'm on the ball. I'm so fucking on the ball. I made a quick list of everything I needed for both schools and then I transferred that list into Microsoft Word and I may or may not make an Excel spreadsheet. I'm dirty for Excel spreadsheets.

Why they need all of this by February when I won't be starting until September is beyond me. We just had September. September was, like, 15 minutes ago. And I'm expected to be ready for the next one?!

For one of the schools, I also need to produce a work of art that shows insight into a day in my life. Well, let's see here. Which medium would truly capture the essence of Double Stuf Oreos and The Golden Girls? What gives?! When are these art school people going to realize that I'm not really an artist? I'm, like, kind of a designer or something. Which is totally different. And should be treated as such.

But really, I'm fine.

I really need to have some dry cleaning done

but I've been reluctant to take my clothes to the place down the street. It's run by Greeks (and I'm Greek so I'm allowed to put "Greeks" in italics). I'm much more accustomed to/comfortable with the dry cleaners of the Asian persuasion. I loved my dry cleaner/wash n' fold in San Francisco. She yelled at me for having too many scarves and told me all of my bags are "very well made...very pretty." She could also get out cat pee like a son of a bitch.

I did see a dry cleaner tonight that was sandwiched between a Chinese take-away and a nail salon. Chinese take-away. Nail salon. Dry cleaner. Are we seeing the connection here?

2004 Recap (7 days late)

1. What did you do in 2004 that you'd never done before?
Well, I was in a real relationship for a large part of 2004. That was new (and, I hope I'm not stepping on the toes of a question-to-come, but I have to say that I'm, like, the best boyfriend ever). I lived in New York for a few months and San Francisco for a few months. Also new. I ate nothing but stuffed mushrooms and split pea soup for almost two weeks. Again, something I'd never done before!

2. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
New Year's Resolutions? I think not. I never bother with those. One shouldn't need the start of a new year to light a fire under one's hiney. I'm a proponent for progress and change year 'round.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
My friends won't have babies. I beg and I plead, but they won't do it. (Granted, the only reason I Would want anyone to pop one out is because Gap Kids has the most adorable mittens this winter)

4. Did anyone close to you die?
My friends won't die. I beg and I plead, but they just won- I mean, Good Heavens, no!

5. What countries did you visit?
I'm a lame-o and didn't visit any countries outside the one I live in. I did do a lot of shopping at United Colors of Benetton, though, and when I was much younger I thought that was a country.

6. What would you like to have in 2005 that you lacked in 2004?
You know, some alone time. Quality time with me, myself, and I. A little me on me action. And a job. A job would be nice. But only if it doesn't interfere with the me on me action.

7. What dates from 2004 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
Easter Monday. And December 15th. And, as Salt n' Pepa said: "It's none of yo' business"

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Not hanging myself from the shower curtain rod (with a belt that matched my shoes, of course)? Actually, no. I'm entirely too proud of myself for what I've overcome/accomplished this year. I managed to learn more about myself, realtionships, love, cats, loving cats, cleaning bathrooms, and nitric acid in 9 months than some people learn in an entire lifetime.

9. What was your biggest failure?
Can I say that I've had so much success that any failures seem entirely too insignificant to mention (or even recall)? I can and I will!

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
Nothing major, really (except for this afternoon? When I was so hungry that I thought I may or may not have been dying. No, I was. I was wasting away. My vision was going all wonky. My limbs - my limbs felt like Jell-o. I couldn't pick up my very own head! It was all too much.)

11. What was the best thing you bought?
I don't think I bought much this year (a direct result of being buck-ass broke). Actually, I really love my new black Kenneth Coles. Wait, no. My grey zippy hoody from the Gap. Goes with everything. It was an investment, really.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?
My brother's. He ended a realationship of six years. I can't even imagine how hard that must be. I'm also proud that he's handled it so well and turned to his family for support (something he's never done before).

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
Well, my brother's ex-girlfriend's behavior has been less-than-satisfactory, but this is the 2004 recap, not the 2000-2004 recap. I guess my ex-boyfriend's. For reason I've already gone into.

14. Where did most of your money go?
Groceries? Is that sad? I should have rented out a corner of aisle 12 at that Safeway on Market street. I spent so much time there (mainly because I wasn't willing to go 27 weeks without food or beverage). I guess I spent a lot on art supplies too (I'm still bitter about the paper that cost me $2 a sheet).

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
Moving to New York. Moving to San Francisco. Going back to school. Kate coming home from China (even though we still haven't seen eachother since)!

16. What song will always remind you of 2004?
Oh What a World, Rufus Wainwright (because he played that for me the night we met); February, Dar Williams (because I played that for myself when I knew I was leaving); Defying Gravity, the Wicked soundtrack (because I played it about 40 bazillion times after I saw the show)

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:a) happier or sadder? Happier? Yes, happier. Happier that I'm wiser.
b) thinner or fatter? Thinner...and I'm over it...not really.
c) richer or poorer? Don't make me use the phrase "buck-ass broke" again.

18. What do you wish you'd done more of?
I wish I'd gone out more. Spent more time with my friends while I was in New York. I wish I'd explored San Francisco a hell of a lot better.

19. What do you wish you'd done less of?
Sex. I wish I'd had less sex. No, really.

20. How will you be spending Christmas?
I spent Christmas with my family. It was quiet, nice. I'm over it. Christmas is so last year.

21. Did you fall in love in 2004?
Yes.

22. How many one-night stands?
One? Is it still considered a one-night stand if it actually turns into a nine-month relationship?

23. What was the best book you read?
Eats, Shoots, and Leaves, Lynne Truss. Fucking hilarious book. I'm sorry, but nothing is funnier than the history of the apostrophe.

24. What was your greatest musical
discovery?
Rufus Wainwright, Dar Williams (more of a rediscovery, really).

25. What did you want and get?
A boyfriend.

26. What did you want and not get?
A boyfriend.

27. What was your favorite film of this year?
So many good ones this year. Finding Neverland was great, but I might be saying that because I just saw it and because of Johnny Depp. Hero was probably one of the most visually satisfying movies I've seen in a long time.

28. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
I turned 22 (I had to think about that for a second). I went out to dinner with my family. I was very anti-birthday (and, incidentally, anti-family) at the time.

29.What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
Knowing that I would be continuing school in San Francisco. It was hard for me to leave that place. I felt like I finally figured things out and felt good about my decisions (only took me 2 prior schools and 3 prior majors to figure it out).

30. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2004?
My Boyfriend is Inevitably Going to Look Worse Than Me Anyway...

31. What kept you sane?
Thor (one of his cats), my friends, my family. Definitely wouldn't have made it through the last few months of this year without their support (and scratch marks).

32. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
Johnny Depp! Good lord, will he ever stop looking fantastic? Also, Kate Winslet (and I started saying this well before I'd seen or even heard of Finding Neverland. You can imagine the wet dreams that followed).

33. What political issue stirred you the most?
I'm over politics.

34. Who did you miss?
I miss Thor. He's a mean old nasty cat who would eat your face off in an instant, but he loved me. He loved me unconditionally and I miss that mean old nasty cat. I miss sleeping with him tucked up against my chest. I miss that a lot.

35. Who was the best new person you met?
I met so many great people in California! Dana stands out at the top of the list. The girls from my Printmaking class (and even my printmaking teacher). Maybe Karen, though. Karen from upstairs. She was there for me when I needed someone there for me.

36. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2004.
I could ctrl+c ctrl+v a lot of what Kate said for this last bit. I have learned to love myself. More importantly, though, I've learned that I'm deserving of love. I've learned how to love. I've learned how to stop loving. I've learned a lot of love, and for that I would do 2004 all over again if I had to.

I don't know

if it was hearing impairment or good ol' fashioned Hearin' What You Wanna Hear, but I could have sworn I heard a woman on the television ask if I was a homo in need of money. Obviously, she didn't say "homo" but "home owner", but this queer is so broke he'd kill for a three dollar bill.

There have been two things

keeping me from posting (not that I'm making excuses, because I hate making excuses):

1. I've had more laundry to do than you can ever even begin to imagine. You see, when you used to live a life in which you bought a new pair of pants for every time you had to go to class or the grocery store or, I don't know, the kitchen, you amass a lot of pants. And when you live with a man who has two cats that either have weak bladders or an intense hatred towards Kenneth Cole jeans you amass a lot of dirty, pee-stained pants. Thus, a lot of laundry.

2. The pop-ups! I know I've complained about them before, but they're unending. This one in particular keeps sliding up from my clock. Something about Tsunami Relief. I don't know. I feel bad. Honestly, I do. But there isn't much I can do while I'm surfing for Kelly Clarkson lyrics or trying to update this damn diary piece of crap thing.

New Year's Eve was fun. I had a fantastic time at the party, but my brother puked on me earlier in the evening. You win some, you lose some. (He didn't actually puke on me. He puked into the terracotta planter that, in a moment that was not one of my most shining, I grabbed and held under his mouth. Silly me forgot that there is a hole at the bottom of terracotta planters placed there explicitly for drainage.)

But, again, the party was surprisingly enjoyable. I think I reached my drunken peak just before midnight after playing a game of beer pong, except with vodka (who even plays beer pong? What an embarrassment!). In true form, I did not make out with any guys, but did manage to make out with two girls. I believe I even kissed both of them at the same time at midnight. The Seduction of that one guy in particular never did happen (despite how insanely good I looked. Ahem), but I did manage to get his number after we had a conversation about shopping (something Connie didn't do even after a whole night of making out with him. Ahem). Love you, Con!

So yeah, Happy New Year. Where are we? 2005? Happy 2005. And hey, maybe I'll actually put my new layout up sometime before 2006.