First of all, Thanks to Oasis for assisting me in returning to the site. I value this place and the friends I made here. Sometimes life just gets too intense and you lose touch.

It has been nearly a year since I have been here and I appologize to those of you who were such loyal readers. I graduated last week and am now working as a chef at a "kind of nice place" in Casper.

Today is Tuesday June 3rd 2008. I am amazed that I am still alive as you must be too. Jerry is working as an installer for the local cable company and making really good money and yes, we are still together and yes, we are still in the closet as far as our families go. Its just not worth the destruction and gnashing of teeth that I can see occurring if I were to say over my Wheaties at the breakfast table, "By the way mom, I'm gay."

I both admire and respect those of you who are "out" and I understand your admonishment toward me for being such a piker about doing it myself but I guess you'd have to be here and in my shoes to put a reason behind my reluctance.

In preparing for my glorious return I read over some of the comments that were left on my blog/journal in the past year. I feel the irritation with me and perhaps that was one of the reasons that I sort of ended my blog/journal/diary last year. I am not a confrontational person. See I never win at arguments even though I may have a good point and have the truth on my side, I will always lose. That should tell you a little about why I am reluctant to come out to my family. No matter what I say, I won't win the battle.

The other reason is that I have always been told that I am the example setter for my younger brothers. Though the argument doesn't stand well on its own, I could never explain how being gay is setting a good example for my younger siblings. I should say two of my younger siblings since Paul had told me in utter secrecy that he is gay also.

Did I admit to Paul that I was gay when he told me he was? God help me, I tried and I still may but it will take all of the manhood inside me to do that. There is no rhyme or reason to why I am having difficulty with this. I just am. Do I have guilt that I have kept it from him? Yes, the worst kind of guilt known to man and that alone will probably lead me to tell him very soon. I trust paul becaus he also wants secrecy about his gayness and he is worth of my trust, which makes me feel even more guilt.

I guess I am just waiting for the right time and that probably would have been when he told me about himself.

As for Jerry, we are still very much in love and there has been something else that has entered the picture over the last year and that is respect for each other. I mean, there has always been respect but it has grown enormously in the past year.

It has also been a year in which I have discovered more about myself that confuses me even more. Through exploration of gay web sites and the like I have discovered that I am far from being the normal gay guy.
OK, before you say it I'll say it. Maybe there isn't a "normal gay guy".

What I have discovered is that I like my masculinity and I like being though of as masculine, tough and very male. On most of the gay sites this is seen as more of a fettish than a way of being. Of course I am very sheltered living here in Wyoming and I am sure there a a bunch of you out there laughing your heads off right now.

Jerry and I have discussed this and he feels much the same. I don't know, I guess I'm not explaining myself very well and I really can't think of another way to say it that wouldn't get into the dirty little corners of my mind. I like guys that act like guys and I like to be liked because I am a guy and not for the number of "faghags" that follow me around.
Oh hell, you either get it or you don't.

In other things, we now have two horses one of which I just broke without any prior experience at that sort of thing. She is a sweet little chestnut filly named Aquarious.
It is far more of a heartfelt thing breaking a horse than I had imagined. You keep at her and it takes weeks of forceful work to get through to her psychy but when it happens, the cowboy sits alone on his horse in a deserted field and cries. It's fucking intense.

Jerry and I had spent a two week period on a little ranch in northern Wyoming at the end of last summer. It was a telling experience for both of us because little did either of us expect that there would be other guys there like us. It is far from "billed" as a gay ranch and in fact you are told if you don't have the guts, don't even sign up. We signed up and found that there were two unattached guys there that were also gay and meeting both of our standards as "rough and tough". One was also named Jerry and was 19 years old and the other was named Jake and was 18. By virtue of the fact that we hung out with them a lot, the decided that we were gay like them and we admitted it to the first outsiders. Jerry and I were both attracted to the other Jerry and it became our first test of loyalty to each other. We both failed miserably but have reconciled it as a need to explore. Oddly it strengthened us in the long run.
You have to understand, this isn't Hollywood where every cute guy is a temtation. This is Wyoming where you can be lulled into believing that there may never be another chance to sew your wild oats again.

We did and we learned that we were the best for each other.

It was a dark and stormy night. There were initially five of us who were sitting late one night by the campfire. The fifth guy was presumably gay also but he was a little immature in a way. Cute but way immature. He finally gave up and went to bed and that left Jerry, the other Jerry, Jake and me. The other Jerry kept making it clear that he was not with a partner and he had just met Jake at the ranch. I kind of noticed that my Jerry was not making too much of an effort to tell anyone that he and I were a couple. This sort of pissed me off and the scrub was on.

One thing led to another and I wound up in The other Jerry's cabin and my Jerry wound up in our cabin with Jake. The Jerry I wound up with was a "top" and I have never been a "Bottom" so things didn't work out real well. Let me just say that I have still never been a bottom.

On the other hand Jake turned out to be even less experienced and wanted only a mutual experience with my Jerry and I found Jerry sitting outside looking real unhappy.

For wahtever reason we were both a little pissed at each other for allowing this to happen and it took a good deal of talking to get past that. We both learned a lesson from that little expertience and I don't see it happening again for either of us.

Jerry and I returned to our cabin and talked all night and finally wound up having our own experience together and it was sweeter than ever.

Since then we have learned to even laugh about that night but there is always a little caution involved in that laughter.

So this was an exhausting experience coming back and trying to put a whole year in a nut shell. Maybe I will get my second wind later and try for something a little more interesting.

Jerry and I are alive and doing fine. Work has been busy since we are both full time now since school is out. Weekends are usually devoted to "mom things" or being with Jerry so the computer is sort of left to entertain itself with a Luny toons screen-saver of Sylvester Pussycat chasing little fishies underwater.

Jerry and I have found how easy it is to fool the general population of Casper if only we manage to stay our normal masculine selves. Everyone talks about the gay employee that works at the community as the guest manager and they talk about him to us as if we don't have a clue about gayness..........so funny.

Over the last weeks I have come to miss the private moments that Jerry and I had more of before school was out. Working full time sucks in that respect. I find myself silently lusting over his body as he whizzes by doing his duties or I fly by with two coffee pots in each hand.

By the time we are off we are both expected at home and weekends have been somewhat family oriented lately. Jerry does spend some time at my place on the weekend but it is usually under the watchful eye of the other members of my family and there is very little alone time.

I think it's time for a little weekend get-away for us. I am also a little sick of my boss. I was holding down the front desk so the secretary could take a break when a resident evedently fell outside. The lady who runs the little bank inside the community was leaving and she stumbled across the man bleeding on the steps just outside of my view. According to her she was screaming for someone to call 911 but she was doing that through two glass sliding doors outside the foyer. I didn't see her or hear her until she came inside and screamed to me to call 911. By that time it was decided that I didn't think the incident was important enough because I didn't respond until she came inside. Once I was aware, I immediately called 911 and stayed with them on the two-way radio until the paramedics arrived. Later my boss asked me if I was aware how important it was to respond immediately to such an incident. I was quite insulted that he would even ask that of me.

I have found the one thing that people can do to me that really sets me off is to insult my intelligence and my ability to care about important things such as that. I was quite put out that he thought it was even necessary to discuss the matter with me. I am a very capable and caring person and to have it suggested that I was not responsive enough has made me rather angry at my boss. It keeps rolling over and over in my mind of how I shoud have responded to his criticism but I am far too polite to say what I should have told him.

When something like that happens, it seems to me that the person discovering the accident should run to the nearest person with a phone and make them aware of the incident rather than standing by the fallen resident and screaming through two sliding interlock doors. But I ate the criticism and simply explained that I called 911 as soon as I was aware there was a problem. The boss left with a little phrase "OK Damon just so you know"

Pisses me off just thinking about it but since I already told him what my measures were I don't feel like it is worth opening the issue again with him. I am one of those people who is "blinded by the headlights" when I am accused of something that I didn't do but the thing that concerns me more than anything else is that the boss wasn't there that day so the criticism of my actions must have come from someone else.

I agree that perhaps he is just doing his job in questioning me but I have a problem when my integrity is challenged. It makes me angry to think that someone might have said that "Damon was just standing there with his finger up his nose while a resident was bleeding to death."

The man is fine and returned to the community after he got a few stitches in his forehead.

I am tired and the ten hours a day, four days a week are really taking a toll on my mood. My family is not used to retiring early and even though I can go jump in bed anytime I want, I find it hard to do when so much is going on in the house. Light under my bedroom door from the outside and little noises like the TV in Chucks room add to my thoughts of the day and keep me from going to sleep. Frankly, I'm wasted, nakered, and wish I could have some free time with Jerry.

Jerry hasn't decided what he will do next year while I finish my last year of school. I am afraid that this will take even a larger toll on our ability to spend time together. Maybe I should just get a job pumping gas somewhere.

Yeah it was my birthday on the 10th. I finally made it to 16. However I will be a senior next year after fighting all my school years to hold my place being one year younger than the rest of the kids in my class. I hate to admit to anyone that I am 16 because people always think I am older because of how tall I am. Jerry had mentioned in one of his entries that I was born in Bristol England and that's true. My dad was stationed at the American Consul Office in London but we lived in Bristol which is quite a long distance. I went to a private school in Bristol and their classes were excellerated so when we moved to The U.S. I skipped a grade in school. I was supposed to be in the fifth grade but they put me in the sixth grade.
I remember at the time that I really didn't want to skip a grade because it meant working just that much harder. It would have been nice to have one year to just take it easy.
Though my parents were American, you seem to learn your language from school and I do have a little English accent, or so I have been told.
It is enough that people always ask me how long I have been in the United States. I tell them five years because it is too hard to explain that I am actually an American with my first five years of schooling in the UK.
Strangely, Jerry's mom was from Ealing, which is a town on the western outskirts of London.
It's funny how little coincidences seem to follow you around all the time. People always say "well, it's a global world."
I agree but when you live in Wyoming it somehow doesn't seem all that global.
So, my birthday was last Sunday and Jerry and his dad came and two of the ladies from the old coffee shop who now work with us at the retirement community came as well.
Mom had purchased a new gas grill the weekend before and we had a little bar-BQ on the patio, nothing big.
Once my dad had finished his duties in the UK, they started talking about moving back to the U.S. I was really unhappy about that because all I had ever known was my British friends and my home in Bristol.
Little did I know just how difficult it was really going to be to start all over again in the U.S. I mean think back a few years to the sixth grade and remember how kids that moved here from some other country were so weird to you. Here I was with a bleedin' British accent in an elementary school in Los Angeles. They teased me not only for being tall but for what they called "sissy talk." Why do Americans think the Brits sound like sissies?
Even the teachers were constantly trying to get me to mispronounce words in the American tradition so I would fit in.
"That's not your Mootha, it's your Mother. It's not telephoan, it's telephone. And we do not que up for recess we line up."
In England, to check something off, like to put a mark by it, is called ticking it off. That got a big laugh.
"Should I just tick off all the classes I want to take then?"
"No Damon, you check them off."
"Oh, OK."
I had vaguely heard my parents use such strange American words but I just figured they were old and didn't know any better.
In England there are so many different dialects too. They try to teach "Queen's English" to the kids in school but in places like Liverpool kids have a much more colorful language known as cockney and say things like "get off me bleedin' back before I knock ye on ya arse."
Words like color are spelled with a "U", colour. So I was constantly mispelling words in school here. There is also no "Z" in British English. The letter is called ZED and is not used unless an American-English word is spelled. Thus the word "recognize" is spelled "recognise" in Britain.
When it came time to read aloud in front of the class, kids were always saying "I can't understand what he's saying miss Jones!"
I had only one teacher who had also taught in England and defended me, telling the class that I was probably pronouncing the words more correctly than they were. "After all we do speak English here and he IS from England."
My boss told me to just wait until I was having an interview with a big corporation someday. They would see my accent as an asset instead of a hindrance. HRmmm, maybe.

I got my final grades back yesterday and I cleaned up pretty well. The only thing I got a B in was calculus and since I don't plan on designing any airplanes anytime soon, I'm not too worried about that.
Next year should be easy. I have enough credits to take either a half term or go home at 12:30 everyday. I haven't decided what I want to do yet. Today being Friday and the last Friday of my junior year, we are all off today because of the teachers still doing some paperwork from the final grades. Not a problem. Unfortunately since Jerry goes to a different school, he's not off today.
I was given the task of bathroom cleaning at home by mom. I always keep mine pretty clean making sure the shower is scrubbed down at least once a week but the boys are a little different in that respect and mom doesn't trust them to do a good job so guess who gets to do it?
She did give me the option of assigning whatever other task I see fit to them when they get home from school. I think Bar-BQ grill cleaning will be Chucky's task since it is still pretty messed up from the last cookout. It shouldn't be that hard with a little Easy-Off grill cleaner........just a little messy.
Paul and Danny share a bathroom and that is the biggest problem. Neither of them have learned to aim well if you get my drift, and raising the lid is almost unheard of. This leads to unprecedented dribbling on the tile floor. If I can aim at my height, you'd think these two little runts could hit the toilet.
When Paul gets home, he get Hoover duty all over the house while Danny will be assigned to clean the kitchen sink. These little assignments will be permanent and simi-daily from now on and there will be some matriculation to their bathrooms as soon as I make out a list of cleaning duties. I don't plan to have the permanent "little brother bathroom duty" for long.
Jerry and I both work this afternoon until about 7:00 P.M. What he said in his last entry is true about the place. It is nice and we both enjoy working there.
And Yeah, Jerry got his car. It cleaned up really nice. It's a late model Mustang with a nice rompy V-8. but Jerry is a little worried about the gas mileage. Actually my car is not much better though. I have a 3.8 litre V-6 which is not that easy on gas either. Funny I never worried about it until the gas prices went so high. Mr. Bush, our illustrious president is about the most self-centered person I have ever known. His agenda is so far off the beaten path of what the majority of the people want that it's not even funny anymore. Now he's trying to restart the cold war between Russia and the U.S. again with his little rockets in the Czech Republic. Get a clue George, Americans are sick of war. Put some of those billions into oil exploration at home or alternate fuels. Then he suddenly tells the G-8 summit that America will now lead the world in global warming prevention when he has, until now , refused to even believe in such an animal.
I feel like writing a letter to Vladimir and telling him to just hang tight for another 18 months and we'll all be done with Bush.
It's funny how some issues force an otherwise non-political minded person like myself into being so bloody political. I hate politics but just wait 'til I can vote!

Someone asked if this site was becoming the new cutter site. Gosh I hope not.
From a cutter's standpoint, That's not why I'm here. The fact that I am a cutter is not a reason to have a journal.
And for all those WANNABE cutters out there that think it is all cool, I can tell you that it is not. People die that way.
I started cutting at the age of about ten. They say it is a mental disorder but I am not a mental case and there is evidence some really famous, intelligent people are and were cutters.
But to keep this site clean from the scurge of cutter entries, I will stop there.
So............ nice day. There is sun here in Casper and that always makes things warm and fluffy.
I am extremely depressed today and I really don't know why. I feel like just being alone and I am realizing that this is Memorial Day weekend coming up and I will have to deal with three brothers and my mom all weekend. I shouldn't really say that because it's not that big of a deal but in the delicate state my brain is in, it could be.
Jerry and I could spend some time together but I also need to study for my last two finals. Maybe it's something in the water because my little brother came and jumped in bed with me last night. He used to do that a lot right after my dad passed away. I can always tell when he's feeling a little fragile, a chip right off his big brother's block apparently.
You can tell where he's at because I said, "hey what's up?"
"Nothing," he said. Then he buried his head against my chest.
You know, we've tried to talk and nothing ever comes out of him. Partly because I think he knows that I understand already and partly because he's like me, if you don't talk about it, it doesn't hurt.
Maybe I'm not the great example for him and the others that I think I am.
Jerry said, "would it really kill them if they found out they had a gay, cutter brother that is capable of tears occasionally?"
Jerry says that I never allow myself to fall backward and trust that someone would be there to catch me. Sure I do! I'D BE THERE TO CATCH ME.
It is a pain in the ass when you have to be your own support system even though you know if you could just allow someone else in, they'd be there for you.
Ever since I was a little kid I can remember my mom saying to different people, "He's so independent."
After a while people start expecting you to be independent and stop offering support. Then some genes and hormones and blood plasma kicks in and you realize you have alienated yourself from everyone, at least for the purpose of support. You're still thought of as the "good son" but you always hear "leave him alone, he'll be fine."
I think the last time I went crying to my mom was when I was about three and smashed my finger in the garage door. After Chucky came along, he did enough crying for the both of us in his first year of life on earth. They finally figured out that he was lactose intolerant.
By the time the other boys came along I was well on my way to being "big brother" able to leap tall buildings at a single bound.
So here I am, a teen now with a strong desire at tmes to suck my thumb and hold my blanky, (or cut) and my friends call me spiderman ( because of my tall stature not because I shoot webbing from hidden apendages). Somehow it has stuck and even Jerry calls me Spidy.
I admit this is all self-inflicted. One whimper and my mother would come running and stand in my general area ready to administer first aid, but not without my OK first.
"I'm fine don't touch me. It's just a broken leg and a skull fracture."
Jerry says I still hold some parts of my innerself outside his reach. I am sure I do, but Jerry is the first person in a long time that has started to crack the shell that guards the soft underbelly of Spiderman, but its like giving up the golden rings. If you patronize me too much, I'll close the door and lock it.
It all started like this..........
I remember now, I was 9 years old and I fell off the swing and the damned metal thing came back and nailed me in the forehead giving me this nice little scar that you can see here. Mom and dad rushed to my side to find me bleeding like a stuck pig but of course not crying.
Mom started making cooing noises like a mother pigeon and of course that started the tears.
Her words to my dad were,"Honey we have to get him to the hospital for stitches. Damon never cries and if he's crying it must be really bad."
I think it was the word "stitches" that got my attention. I dried up the tears in a big hurry and claimed that I had sand in my eye.
This my motto: "Smile at all assaults to the human heart and body except at funerals and then smile when necessary." Sounds like something Mark Twain would say, doesn't it.

Our new jobs at the retirement community will begin a week from next monday. I understand they already have the place 75% filled. It's going to be so cool because not only Jerry and I will be working there but both Millie and Marsha from the coffee shop have been hired also.
We will al be working in the dining room as servers and kitchen assistants. I don't know about the hours yet or whether any of us will be working the same but I assume since Jerry and I are both in school it will be after school for both of us. During the summer the hours may be different though.
I'm glad Jerry joined Oasis. It will be fun to see what he writes about after he gets over his trillogy on me.
Jerry had his dad's pickup so he left a little while ago. He needs to spend some time with his dad too for a while. I guess I am lucky that I have three brothers and my mom. I can't imagine what it must be like to go home to just your dad after such a sad experience in your household. I could tell he was kind of dreading it. I told him to just get the TV on and watch something or listen to some good sounds. That is what I have to do when I am not feeling good emotionally. I have to have things going on around me. Of course with three brothers that's not hard to come by.
I'll call later and maybe pick him up and we'll go get some coffee and a burger or something.
Wish we still had the coffee shop to hang out at. Sometimes, especially Millie can really lift your spirits. That's why I am so glad she'll be working with us at the community. Even though she is old enough to be my grandmother, she is fun to be with. She has a great sense of humor and if anyone has figured me and Jerry out yet I am sure she will be the first.
I guess I better go get stuff set up for dinner. Mom will be home in an hour and Chuck is still at school. I have to pick up the little one.
Now if I could just teach the cat to feed the dog and visa versa, I'd have it made.
later>>>>>>>>>

Well the truth is out there so they say.
Jerry now has his own journal and has proven to be quite prolific, if a bit embarrassing about it.
You can find him at jerrysplace.
He claims to enlighten you on a few things that I would never have told you about myself. Probably because I didn't think you'd give a flying farg about any of them.
Now that his picture is posted also, you can see that I'm the ugly one.
It's true, I was sitting in the chair as he typed away and after I read his entry I was tempted to distract him while I deleted most of it.
What the heck.
Jerry writes better than I expected he would, not that I expected him to do badly but he's really pretty good except for the content. Maybe if we gave Jerry something really interesting to write about he'd win a prize or something.
It will be good for him so enjoy. I am sure the subject will move on to something more interesting than me soon. check out jerrysplace.

Thanks for the E-mail Llama. To answer your question, everything went well and no, there were no really strange relatives that showed up.

The funeral was quite small actually. Jerry and his dad of course and one uncle on his mom's side along with his grandmother, both of them from Michigan.
My mom and I and my three brothers were in attendance along with several members of the band at Jerry's school and his teacher. There were also quite a few members of the parish who knew the family and attended the mass. Music was provided by the church organist who played "Ave Maria" by J. S. Bach and "Kiri Elaison" by D. Archides.
A rosary was held Friday evening and the funeral was Saturday.
Jerry's mother was dressed in a blue evening dress and looked very lovely. An interment was held at the cemetery after the funeral. I and five of Jerry's band mates were pall bearers.
My mom hosted a small gathering of people at our house after the burial.

Jerry will probably need a little time before he is ready to start a journal of his own. He is doing very well and again thanks everyone for their concern.
So much was going on at the end of last week with the closing of the coffee shop and all. It seems strange not to have the coffee shop to retreat to. Oh, Millie and Marsha from the coffee shop also attended the funeral and Millie came to the house afterwards.
It is kind of strange, my mom is treating me very delicately for some reason. I think she senses this has really had a big impact on me.
She keeps saying "honey, are you OK?"
I truly appreciate all the concern she is showing me. maybe it has not set in yet. I know if I lost my mom at this point it would be hard for me and I think she is realizing that.
Thanks again for all the kind words. It helped Jerry in not feeling so alone, knowing that even people he didn't know were thinking of him.

I know this seems like an odd thing to do after losing my mother, to make a journal entry in Damon's journal. I don't feel much like taking the time right now to go through the process of signing up for my own journal so I asked Damon if I could borrow his.
I did need to say thank you on my own, to some of Damon's friends. I'm sorry I don't know who you are but I have read the things you say and they are very much appreciated.
You and Damon are right, that a weight has almost been lifted from me even though I will miss my mom so much. It is the most difficult thing I have ever done to see my mom each day and know that she really doesn't know me or remember anything about the time we spent together.
Letting her go is hard but I know where she is now, she again remembers me as her son.
Damon is right also when he said that there is this time when you should be doing other things but are just not sure what they are. So I am here with Damon by my side and your thoughts in my heart, passing time because I don't know what else to do.
My father is Korean and my mom was American and the strangest thing that ran through my mind is that I have no evedence left now that I am half American.
Damon was also right if he ever called Wyoming a god forsaken place. It is, especially if you are gay. I hope to take him by the hand and lead the way out of here someday.
Thanks to John and Will and especially Damon who wrote the "Petals of White"
JERRY

I am home from school today and I expect to spend the afternoon with Jerry. I am home because whenever he needs me I'll be there for him. His mom had another stroke yesterday and for a time it looked like she may be in a coma for a very long time but fortunately, (I say that because in my humble mind it is fortunate,) she passed away.
I was not there because I didn't know until mom got a call from Jerry's dad. They don't know each other except by what we have told them of each other but apparently they had a lengthly conversation on the phone.

His dad said that he would appreciate it if I would come around this afternoon and be with Jerry while they make arrangements. I thought about going to school but decided that I would not have my mind on much else anyway and if Jerry needed me I would be available. Jerry called about an hour ago and sounded surprisingly in control and somewhat resigned. He said he never wanted to see his mom in a coma just to have her around and I had to agree with him on that. Her smiling face is etched in my mind as I am sure it is Jerry's and that is what I choose to remember.
I have to work tonight because tomorrow is the last day for the coffee shop. It closes forever Friday night. Although it seems a little strange, I can't help feeling it is a fitting time for the demise of the coffee shop. Two wonderful parts of my short time here in Wyoming will extinguish together.
I feel foolish sitting here writing when there is such a heightened sense of need that surrounds me but that is always the case even when my dad passed away, there are those times when you seem to have a need to do something but don't know what it is. I remember sitting and staring out the window thinking the same thing after dad passed away. "I should be doing something." But all that could be done, was done.
This will change Jerry to some degree as it did me, especially since his mother was ill to a degree that it disturbed him and kept him always thinking about what the future may bring.
For me it was a little different. Dad's death was unexpected and he was perfectly fine the day before. Still it changes you. You take fewer things for granted. It also made me the proverbial man of the house and my mom reinforced that by making me a bigger part of the decision-making forum at home. So much so, that it has postponed my desire to discuss my sexual orientation with her and may have forever changed how I will handle it in the future.

PETALS OF WHITE
Petals of white rained down and only through a fog could I see the gleaming chrome of the wheelchair.
Then with a sudden rush of light and wind, it was all drawn upward again and the lovely lady dressed in the pink gown assended with it.
As if to controll just a moment of God's time, she reached down and touched her sleeping son's face, and she was gone.
But he will see her in the crystal midnight sky again and again. Her voice will speak in the whispering pines so he will know, she is not far.

I think I mentioned some time back that the coffeeshop where I work will be closing after some 70 years in the same location. I think that's a shame and we tried to change the minds of the city councel but it just didn't happen. There is a couple who come in here that are in their late eighties. They met in this coffeeshop over 60 years ago. George said if he was younger and had enough money he'd "buy the land right out from under this damned town" and let the coffeeshop be.
Starting in June, I will be working at a new senior community that is just being finished. I was hired as a waiter. It's a pretty nice place but the greatest thing about it is that Jerry is also going to be working with me. I guess out of every bad deal comes a little good. My grandmother used to say that and it seems she may have been right after all these years.
I was off last night so Jerry and I met for some dinner at the coffeeshop and then headed for the mall. We just hung out with some straight friends from school. Two guys from Jerry's school and a girl and a guy from my school. It is amazing how mainstream we can be when we want to be.
Saturday Jerry and I are going to go find him a car. All he has to drive now is his dad's Silverado and that is only if his dad isn't using it. Jerry has saved up some money and he really likes my car so I'm going to try to find him something similar. I have a Pontiac Grand Prix GT.
Jerry was in really good spirits last night but a visit to his mom after the mall brought him down again. I don't really know what to do about that. It has him on an emotional rollercoaster. He is generally a real funny guy and fun to be with but there is that dark side that comes out each time he visits her. I wish I could change things for him.
We got to the nursing home about 7:30 and as usual she is all smiles as we enter her room. She loves company but we always have to remind her who we are. I find that medically amazing. I mean her brain is so blown out that her memory can't sustain a thought for more than five minites. If we are there for a half an hour we have to tell her again and again that Jerry is her son and I am his friend. Each time I just watch Jerry go down and down until by the time we leave it is all he can do to hold his tears past the reception desk. I have to hold him and just let him cry. Sometimes I feel like crying too because it is such an endless cycle. I guess you never get over having your mom forget who you are.
Jerry's mom is an attractive 43 year-old caucasian woman who married his dad, a Korean man born in Seoul. So Jerry is half Korean and half Austrian on his mom's side. I think that is what makes Jerry so attractive. He has these slightly Korean eyes with a light complexion and these huge black eyelashes that seem to plump up to double their size when wet from tears. If it were not for the tears you'd never know he was unhappy. He gets a silent calm in his sadness from his dad.
I know it would be perfect if it were possible to get his mom in at the new retirement community where we will both be working. They will have a special wing for nursing care residents but the cost is too high. They don't accept Medicare or Medicaid so it would have to be all out of pocket and that could be thousands a month.
Jerry and I sat in the car and talked for a while after we left the nursing home. Then we drove over to the coffeeshop and messed with Millie for a while. Millie is one of the older waitresses that has worked there for years and she actually enjoys us teasing her I think. She lost her husband about four years ago and has a small place a few miles from the coffeeshop. She still drives the 1972 Buick that her husband bought new and I recently did an oil change on it for her. It runs surprisingly well to be so old. I promised to replace the choke spring on it for her next weekend because it's shot and it runs like hell when it's cold. Somehow though she has it down to a science. She can get it started and keep it running until it warms up even in the coldest of weather. She said she just though it was old and cantankerous until I told her it needed a choke assembly. I'm pretty good at working on old cars but the computers on the newer ones like mine give me indigestion.
After the last customer left and we locked up, Jerry and I helped Millie get the place swept up and ready to close.
I know Jerry and I need a little more intimate time but that is really hard to come by. We'll just have to wait until we can go camping again or something. By that time we will both be stark-raving sex maniacs.
I got home about 10:30 and mom was still up working on some paperwork. I turned on the news very quietly so I didn't disturb her. After a while she walked over to the couch and dropped a paper from Chucky's school onto my lap. It was from his health class and the top of the paper said, "Mastication and Health".
Mom had me rolling on the floor laughing when she told me that Chucky had come home from school announcing that they had a test on Masturbation and Health.
She asked me to talk to him so he didn't make that mistake again. That is what is so strange about not having dad around. I get to do all the boy-sex dirty work.
Chucky is Fourteen so I assume he knows what Masturbation is. Right?
WRONG! he knew what it was but had never used quite that word for it.
ME: "Chuck, what is this word?"
CHUCK: "You know. You prolly do it enough!"
ME: "Ah, Yeah I do. Every time I eat."
*he turns to his brother and laughs impishly*
ME: "Read the word."
CHUCK: "Mas-tur-ba-tion." he says quietly under his breath.
ME: "No! Mas-ti-ca-tion. MasTIcation means to chew your food."
CHUCK: "Do what?"
ME: "It means the act of chewing, not wanking you idiot. I'll use it in a sentence. WHEN YOU FINISH MASTICATING YOUR COOKIE, YOU'LL PROBABLY MASTURBATE YOUR WEENIE BEFORE YOU GO TO SLEEP.
CHUCK: "No way! Did Mom tell you what I said?"
I just grinned big with all my teeth and closed his door.

I know, it's unfair. The word gods shouldn't make words that sound so similar and mean something so different.

Apparently Lil_Will was a bit taken aback by my description of him so I will both appologize and justify myself.
He says that he is a bitch and that almost everyone at his school is afraid of him, they say he is the meanest person they know.
OK, well I for one, am not afriad of you Will and I have known some pretty mean people in my life, homophobic and otherwise.
He says he does swimming, soccer, tennis, diving and waterpolo and people say he is a "preppy, bitchy rich kid."
He says that is true and to "let them talk." He loves Abercrombie and anything preppy so it must be true. He thinks the sk8r punk look is kewl too but only on some guys.
He is yet to find a "(good)" boyfriend. Hmmmm, could this be true?
He tells us that he was lucky in coming out because no one really cared and the homophobic people know he is just not a person to mess with.
Sound like a friendly guy to me!
Being all of 13 or nearly 14, Will seems to be quite decisive and well tempered if you don't mind putting up your dukes and fighting him for the prize of his friendship.
I don't know, had I come out to the world at 13 I might have been just as much of a "Biotch". Thankfully I gave myself time to see both sides of the issues and since I don't live in Stamford ( isn't that where Martha Stewart homesteads?) I am a little more grounded.
We have all known the rich kid who is delivered to school every morning in a Porshe Boxter and we all have marveled over his ability to dress with impeccable taste in designer clothing while the rest of us show off our new Target underwear in gym class.
It does occur to me though, that most of those rich kids never really talked about it much, they just allowed us to ogle after them.
Impressions in your bio don't lie Will. You have told us who you want us to believe you are and we will take your word for it. Nontheless, I understand and if you would care to let us in on your day to day personal life maybe we will find that you do have some substance. So to answer your question, "is that all I have to say about 'you'?"
That's all you gave me.
Do you care? Yes I suspect that you do.
Do you have a heart? Yes I am sure you do.
Did I intend to smack you down? Not at all, I rather like you.
Do you come on a little strong for 13? Ya THINK!
Is there anything wrong with being rich? Hell no!
Did you come here to find friends or did you come here to impress us?
I think you need all the friends you can get and that is why I am willing to be one of them, at least in cyberspace.
Below is your BIO. Maybe you should read it and tell me what you think I should have to say about you, given the content.

"I'm 13 years old, and i'mma bitch(almost everyone in my school is scared of me)(i'm kinda mean, actually most ppl tell me i'm the meanest person they know) but thats only cause a lot of ppl at my school are homophobic and well i just don't let that by (if u know what i mean)

"Anyway...
I grew up and still live in Stamford CT. I do swimming, soccer, tennis, diving, and waterpolo. People say i'm a prepy bitchy rich kid. (which is true; let them talk!) I LOVE abercrombie and anything prepy. (but i like the sk8r punk look too(only cute on some guys though)) i have yet to find a (good) BF my last well, yeah didn't work out (sorry Jake) "

"i guess i was kinda lucky in comming out, no one really cared. and the ppl that were homophobic didn't say nothing cause i'm just not a person to mess with (i'm popular at my school so yeah) and when i told a lot of my friends it turned out some of them were gay/lesbian/bi as well so its all good."
"oh yeah add me on myspace biotchez!!!!:"

I'm sure there is another side to Will.

Let's start with Duncan. Gosh I love that name. It sounds so Scottish, not that he is, I never asked him but it puts me in mind of the BBC series "Monarch of the Glen". I got so tied up watching that series on NetFlix that I almost missed an important report for school.
Duncan (in the show) is sort of the groundsman for the liard of Glen Boggle who is played by Alistair Mac Kenzie.
Duncan is like a little boy in his twenties wearing a kilt (which is also hot).
Our Duncan, I visualize as much the same but of course younger. In fact there was one point in the show where (the other) Duncan was so angry with women that he decided he would just be gay. He had me convinced.

The Llama finally gave us a glimps of himself in the flesh as a real human boy. Until that point all we knew him as is "Pesky Penguin" with the webbed feet. Come to find out he is quite a cute lad although he looks a lot younger than he says he is. Says he was teased about his weight but I have to tell him so was I. I have been known to hide behind lamp posts with no problem at all. While Llama may need more than a lamp post he is far from fat and as I said quite a cutie.
Lil_Will hasn't journalized much but he can be found in the Forum from time to time when he is not out spending a fortune on designer underwear. Most of my boxers are from K-Mart or Target although I do have one pair of Abercrombie ( see I can't even spell it). Anyway the one pair of designer underwear I have were given to me by someone who fancied herself as a girlfriend, before I left L.A.
I always remember to wear them if I am doing something especially hazardous that day. You know the old saying about being caught dead in your underwear.
Of course there are others too numerous to mention but I am grateful every time one of them graces my journal with a note. If you'd like to be "spoofed" on my journal just sign up. No pushing now!
I used to do little spoofs on birthday cards for family members like one I did on my dad's card a few years back:
Dad we love you because:
You are the only man I know that screams like a little girlyman when the bacon grease pops in the skillet.
You are the only guy that needs an entire two week vacation to change the oil in the car.
You are the only person that I know that actually pronounces the "L" in the words calm and Salmon.
You think there is an "R" in kitchen.
The only time you ever get something in your eye is when you are watching a sad movie.
You drive a Mercury because you think that guy with wings on his feet looks cool.
Happy Birthday Dad! I miss you like hell!
P.S. Mom gave me permission to use that word.

The last two days had been warm but this morning was both cold and windy. It felt like the cold went right through your body. The air was so fresh though that it also was nice to just stand freezing your ass off for a second and breathing in the freshness.
It sort of reminded me of those once-in-a-blue-moon days in L.A. when you actually got some fresh air. It wasn't often but it was nice when it came.
Jerry and I talked for a while last night on the phone. I was in my room because I knew he'd be calling and his conversations occasionally get a little sexually oriented. No, not phone sex but nontheless a little more than I would want to discuss in the presence of my mom or brothers. Besides, Chucky, my 14 year-old brother was having a discussion with mom about some classroom grades that were less than wonderful.
Jerry's plan was that since his dad was going to be out of town for two days starting Thursday, we should meet at his place and have a little one on one time. I won't say that Jerry is eager but there are times when I actually need to be away from him. I don't think this is necessarily unique to Jerry, I am like that with most anyone. I have to breathe and I need time alone sometimes.
I went through this thing where everyone thought it was unhealthy for me to be alone and thank God my mom came to my rescue. She told people that I had always been like that. Everyone seemed to think that I was going to sneak off and cut my wrists or something. I guess it's tough for people who always see you with a big stupid grin on your face to realize that you occasionally do take that grin off and stow it for a while just to rest the smile muscles.
I have always been a cheerful sort of guy, don't ask me why, I just feel like smiling at people opens more doors than frowning at them. As I have mentioned before though it does cause problems. I had a teacher once who called my mom because she noted that I was very serious while studying for a test.
"Is Damon feeling under the weather?" she asked.
When shown a picture of all four of us boys together, grandma once remarked, "who is that other boy and where is Damon?"
Oops!...... forgot to grin like a chechire cat again.
On the other hand I guess I make my own situations at times. Jerry say he likes to be around me because I make him feel happy. I know if anyone deserves to be happy it is Jerry. He worries so much about his mom. If you remember, she had a stroke and cannot speak clearly and often does not know who he is. That's gotta be tough.
We'll walk into her room at the facility where she stays and she'll greet him with a big smile. She has come to recognize him but still cannot understand that he is her son. I see Jerry's eyes light up for a moment and then she'll say, "who are you again?"
It's like watching his heart break over and over again. He hold the tears until we are alone somewhere and then he cries for a long time. At first I was uncomfortable about this until I realized his dad was not much comfort to him on the matter. His dad is a great guy but I think in order to shield himself from the pain, he unintentionally shuts Jerry out when he says anything to him about her not recognizing him.
Jerry is a happy guy most of the time too and that makes it all the harder to see him go through this. That's why I know that I cannot push him aside with some lame excuse of having too much homework or something when he needs to be with me. I hate that I am all he has when it comes to this issue. I wish he had a circle of casual friends that would be there for him. Since I don't go to his school there is really no chance for me to help him assemble any support groups and you have to remember this is Wyoming, there aren't supports groups on every corner like there would be in L.A.
Often one of the hardest things for me to do is to watch others suffer through things like this. It breaks my heart and it must show because the other night Mom asked about Jerry. I said he was doing OK. Then she ask if I was doing OK. I just sort of nodded.
I really thought I was but I found myself feeling very sad about Jerry and his mom later that evening. It serves to prove to myself that I am not as self-centered as I acuse myself of being. Sometimes I get all caught up in my own problems and issues and I attack myself for being so self- indulging. I also know now that is why I cut. I have to chasitse myself for my selfishness. I have to remind myself that I am human, and blood does that so well.

Jerry an I have spent as much time together as school and work permit. We often communicate through e-mails that are frequently out of time with each other. In other words if we could we would IM each other but a lot of the time I am free when he isn't and the other way around so an old fashioned e-mail works fine.
Jerry has made an effort to define who I am to him and in a recent e-mail put it this way:
"You are tough. When I say that, I don't mean any disrespect I just mean you are Mr. Stiffupperlip. I feel like such a fool sitting here with tears in my eyes because we can't be together tonight or tomorrow night. You though, I know you don't have any tears, you never do Damon. I know it is not because you don't feel bad about it but you just never let them see you sweat, do you?"
"I say this all lovingly because you are really strong and I like that in you but I would also just like to know just once that your feelings overwhelm you now and then. You are like spiderman, you have powers that I don't even know about yet. The fingernails are always clean though I know you worked all day. You smell like peppermint even though you had a hamburger with onions moments before. You don't breathe hard when you run and often sit with that blank look on your face as if you had some secret you'd like to share but refuse to share with me."

Well I guess I have been told huh?
Growing up in a house with three younger brothers has done this to me you know. I was never told that I shouldn't let my feelings show simply because the boys would be confused. I took it upon myself to be the big brother. That has left me barren of external emotion like some autistic child with no ability to interact with other humans. I appologize for that. I do have feelings and often they do overwhelm me. I just have a thing about allowing them to affect others because I know they would. If I were to suddenly break into sobs, my brothers would be looking out the window for the three horsemen of the apocalypse. My sadness often comes out in anger more than in tears. When my father died, I drove off to a little cliff that I knew in L.A. and screamed to the top of my lungs never sheding a tear. I later had to explain why my throat was a little raspy. I told them I must have a cold or something.
Events don't seem to have an effect on me like that. If you wanted to make me cry, just look me in the face and tell me how much you hate me. First of all I think my question would be what have I done to make you feel this way toward me. I am an innocent in that respect. What I cannot understand often effects me far more than something like a death that is not unique to just me.
I miss my dad very much and I have had my moments of sorrow but never in a place where I would be found out. I miss Jerry when I can't see him but I know that it doesn't change how I feel about him or how he feels about me and therefore I am not sad about not having time with him, just frustrated.
On the other issues, I am a freak about having dirty hands. My mom made me that way, blame her. I am also a freak about bad breath because I had a piano teacher who's breath could have killed an elephant. If I have onions on my hamburger I have also got my breath mints with me or the onions have to be skipped that day. But I will still make sure I have had a breath mint before I put my face in yours.
So I concede, I am perfect especially if it means that I will never be seen blubbering in public with bad breath and dirty fingernails. That would just be disgusting.
As for Jerry. I don't mind the tears as long as he continues to smell like grape lolipops and keeps his fingernails clean. And he does.
I still have not figured out where the grape lolipop fragrance comes from. I have never seen him with a lolipop but I was with him when he purchased a fingernail brush at the Rite-Aid. Sort of reminds me of the movie "MIchael" with John Travolta as an angel who claimed he always smelled like fresh-baked cookies. I hear all angels do but maybe there are a few who smell like grape lolipops.