Happy b-day to Blog

Once again I have hit a milestone with this blog. It was one year ago today that I posted my first entry. Over the course of the year, this blog has changed from posting numerous pictures of sexy men and general ramblings almost every day, to being a little more sporadic in my writing.

I have found that when I post something, it is best if I have something to say. But I have also found that it has not always been easy to write down what I am feeling.

If you are a regular reader you will know that this past year has brought some big difficulties in my life. And publicly divulging them on this post has been cathartic and painful at the same time. While I do approach this as a personal diary for the most part, that comment button is not always easy to click.

I live within my own bubble in my head and having readers share their perception of either my actions or my thoughts has pierced through that self-image on numerous occasions. And no matter how difficult it can be, it is always beneficial to see how others perceive you.

But lately I haven’t been posting much about how my life is going, or about how my relationship with Bud is. It is in that great holding pattern known as routine at the moment. I get up, work out, work, get home, eat, watch tv, play with the dogs. Rinse and repeat.

But there is nothing wrong with this at the moment. I am just in a bit of a rut looking for that next phase in my life. And I may have found it. Have been offered a job in the faraway land of my ancestors – jolly ole England.

So it looks as if the new year will be bringing a new country and a new experience. And hopefully a new routine that is not routine at all.

The Vote

“A citizen of America will cross the ocean to fight for democracy, but won't cross the street to vote in a national election.” - Bill Vaughan

This quote sums up a pressing argument that Bud and I have been having lately. You see, in Australia, people MUST vote. If you don’t vote, you are fined. Of course, you have register the first time, but every single election, local – state – federal, thereafter, if you don’t vote, a ticket comes in the mail.

Here in Canada, as I the US, you vote if you want to.

Now I have not always voted. City elections almost never get me out, and often for provincial or federal elections, it really depends on where I am living. At present I live in a riding that is soundly represented by the leader of the Quebec separatist party. My vote won’t change it.

Now, this doesn’t mean that I won’t vote, but I can be a bit lazy about it.

And I argue with Bud over being forced to vote. If I don’t want to vote, I shouldn’t have to.

Now Bud does not counter with the argument that it is our duty to vote or anything like that, but he makes the worthwhile point that if everyone is forced to vote then you can actually say that the results truly indicate what the “people” want or believe. If you have an election where less than 50% of the population vote, any majority in the results will not be a majority in reality.

And he makes a good point. But I am nonetheless conflicted between my freedom to not do something if I choose and the ability to truly have a mandated government.

Less Than a Year Away

Can't Wait

One of my all-time favourite shows - here's hoping it rocks

Bastard

My Mom called me last night.

Now this is not at the present time unusual. Or I should say this is not unusual ever - she has always called. The only thing that ever has been different has been the content of those conversations. But this one was even different.

"I just wanted to say thank you," she said. "I got a pamphlet in the mail about spousal abuse and it made me think of you. And I just wanted to thank you for getting me to leave Harry."

Many years ago my mother and I were very close. Then in 1996 I told her that I was gay and everything changed. She was never mean to me, never stopped speaking to me or anything like that. But it all changed.

She felt like she didn't recognize me.

And so it continued for many many years.

And then one day two years ago my mom called me just to say hello. It soon turned to where she began to tell me about her life with her boyfriend Harry.

Since we hadn't really talked about anything substantial for so long this was odd.

And terrifying.

My mom told me a horrifying tale of a man that had been mentally abusing her for years. And she didn't even realize just how truly horrid this man was.

My brother and sister had told me that they didn't like him but in my relationship with my mother at the time I, to my shame, didn't really listen. I don't want to go into the details but the level of manipulation and degradation traumatized me.

My mom was always searching for love and held a romantic view of the world.
And she always wants to believe the best in people. But this has got her stuck in a situation where she felt that it was her last chance at love and in some way she felt that what Harry was putting her through wasn’t as bad as it seemed

"You have to leave," I told her.

"I know... I know" she said.

Harry was out of town for a few days. So I said, "No I mean now. Is Gary (my brother) in town?"

"Yes."

"I'm calling him. You can stay with him."

"..OK..."

"Do you know someone with a truck?"

She did.

"Look if you are telling me about all this you must want me to do something about this. Its time to leave. Pack whatever you need to tonight, I'll call Gary and you leave now. Not later. Now. And you get your stuff later. But its time to leave."

And she left and never looked back.

Of course, comically, when I called my sister to tell her what was going on she said, "I tell her to leave him every day and, of course, you tell her once and she leaves.". Colleen was crying with joy.

And yes, it was hard for my mother at the beginning but she is truly happy now. And so we are back to last night.

"I just needed to thank you for getting me to leave."

"It wasn't me," I told her, "yes I may have instigated it, but YOU made the decision. YOU decided to leave. You have to give yourself some credit for what you did. My words didn't get you out. You did it."

And the truly beautiful thing is that out of all that pain my Mom and I are close once again. And she is with a man that treats her the way a woman, a human, should be treated.

But the hard part was last night when my Mom said "..in the 6 and a half years that Harry and I were together...".

6 and a half years!?!

Was it really that long that my Mom was in pain and I refused to acknowledge it because she didn't enthusiastically embrace my homosexuality? Was I really that blind?

Or that selfish?

And now everything is different. Not only is she happy but we are happy. She sends Bud birthday cards and wishes us a happy anniversary. I have my Mom back, but the price she paid is far too high.

Miracle Food

Can anyone think of any food/meal (other than desserts) that would be ruined by adding bacon?