It’s my unemployment and I’ll cry if I want to.
I AM STILL UNEMPLOYED. Sheesh, who’d a thunk that? Well, it is winter and almost Christmas and blah blah. I think I’d best (I’d best? who writes like that) be prepared to not hear anything about anything until sometime in the New Year.
Oh boy, oh boy. If I knew when this would end, then I’d enjoy this unstructured, isolated, everybody else on earth is busy but me time much more.
Yesterday at my wee church two people were chatting during the tea and snacks! time. There was just too much Christmas stuff going on, they told each other. Just too much stuff even if it was good. Overwhelming, they agreed.
I looked at them and thought, ‘tomorrow my plan is to trim my toenails.’
Well, I shouldn’t say that totally. I did go to a pay what you can! Handel’s Messiah last night – just the Christmas part plus the Hallelujah chorus so it was just over an hour. That was nice. I sat beside G., an 83-year-old gay man who sometimes comes to my wee church.
“A man I met on the internet is coming from Brazil to spend Christmas with me up here,” he told me.
“How old is this guy?” I asked.
“He likes old men,” I said.
“Some do,” he said.
Actually when I found out a few years ago how old George was, I was shocked. He seems late 60-ish at most.
George finds it much easier to find men than I do. Last night he had brought a friend. The friend looked to be about 70.
“He’s straight,” he said by way of introducing us, “and Karen needs a boyfriend”
“I didn’t know you knew any straight men, George,,” I replied. A love connection was not made but the music and the singing was amazing.
And tonight is my wee writers’ group wee Christmas party. Then we won’t meet again till the New Year. This seems to work well for everyone else who are all busy being overwhelmed with the positive Christmas things coming at them.
Nothing says, ‘hey you are in your late 40s and you have no family,’ like Christmas does.
My wee church’s minister gave me a bit of a financial gift on behalf of the church, due to my unemployment. I was so surprised that I burst into tears. “Waaaah, sniffle, sob, sniffle.” I went to the washroom and came back and thanked her and sniffled some more.
“This is what the church SHOULD be doing,” my friend Tracy said when I called her, sniffling and snortling. “Don’t feel bad,” she said.
“I am a charity case,” I snortled.
Today she is popping by any minute to give me some Irish stew that she made. Nice.
Oh and Christmas presents of all Christmas presents! The cultish Mormon blog is spawning baby blogs! That’s right! Gay men living straight lives and denying that it is a problem and their straight wives denying that it is a problem are setting up their own blogs! That is Christmas, Easter, my birthday and swimming in Kitsilano pool in the summer all in one!!!!!!!!!!! Now, worry not, I won’t mock the baby blogs in their comments section. But I will read the blogs like I’ve never read a blog before. I want to make up a tune: “The cultish Mormon blog is spawning other blogs,” – that will be the chorus. Or maybe it could be a rap. Or maybe Justin Bieber could sing it!
Uh well, what are you going to do. Seriously, what are you going to do. WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO.
Oh Tracy has just reorganized my wee freezer so there would be room for the Irish stew and chicken soup she just gave me!
I have nice friends, yes? I mean they don’t entertain me as much as they should but they haven’t completed training yet.
My online Masters course is going okay – I’ve started to write the essay that is worth 30% of the mark. Eeek. A test is worth 40% and a reflective journal based on the discussion forums is the final 30%, eeek.