Eak, Pugs and Windbag

Hmmm... I'm wondering what it is about me that makes me so distrustful of even those who are close to me.

I'm having an e-mail discussion with Eak even as I type this, and he asked me why I wouldn't just get Pugs to water my plants for me while I'm away next week. And if I'm honest with myself, I wouldn't trust her to just water the plants and leave, and that gives me a feeling of unease.
Eak, I would trust with my life, and wouldn't even care if he spent all day every day there in my apartment while I was gone, but there's a strangeness to Pugs that even after 2 years of a "good" friendship, I suspect that she would linger and snoop. Not that I have anything earth-shattering to keep hidden, but I do a lot of personal writing I don't let "anyone" read, and ...well... I'd hate to think of her riffling through my porn or any manner of kinky things (ie: lube, toys, attire) she could find with little effort by going through my bedroom.

This makes me an asshole. I'm certain of it. She's a sweet old lady who thinks the world of me, and I don't trust her to water my plants. Ugh. I guess you'd have to know her. I may yet go and make another key and let her do it for the sake of my plants, which will undoubtedly suffer for water after 8 days unattended.

Eak has offered to take me to the airport, which is incredibly sweet. But that's who he is. And we've come a long way. I declined the offer, because there's no need for him to drive across town 2 hours earlier than he'd normally get up on a Monday morning, when I can walk for 7 minutes and catch a bus that will drop me off at my airport terminal. I'm grateful though. I hope he knows I appreciate it beyond just saying I do.

--Dear Fucking Jesus-- while I'm typing now, one of my co-workers is on one of his tangents in my ear on the phone. Oh how I wish I was the type of person to tell someone to "shut the fuck up!" I've worked with this dude for the better part of 10 years at 2 different radio stations and his talent for nattering on and on about absolutely nothing of importance, never ceases to amaze and annoy me. "Cell phones", "internet service providers", "radio and television stations", and "right wing political bullshit"... without prompting "Windbag" will launch into a 20 minute vocal editorial. He's a 30 year old gay man with the demeanor of a senior citizen with chronic hemorrhoids (he voted for Rob Ford for fucks sake!). And I'm not alone in my opinion or dealings with him. People on staff, take turns rescuing one another with fake phone-calls to save comrades from the grips of his verbal diarrhea.
I do on occasion ridicule him in a high-pitched voice as I'm passing by. Without stopping to engage or join the enraptured victim(s) pretending to listen, I'll squeak "Are you STILL talking", as I head out of earshot. But he never seems to take it to heart. I cut him off and told him I had to retrieve a chicken burrito from the toaster oven in the kitchen. (not a lie) Now it's time to eat said burrito and get my butt to volleyball. I haven't played since early December, the second playing season starts tonight and I'll be feeling it tomorrow no doubt.

Song of the day is from a British band called "Hurts", that I'm absolutely loving despite the fact that I can't buy their album in Canada yet for anything short of my first born. Here's hoping it's released here soon. The song is called "Stay". And of course it makes me think of Scooter.

Hurts - Stay

My whole life waiting for the right time
To tell you how I feel.
Know I try to tell you that I need you.
Here I am without you.
I feel so lost but what can I do?
'Cause I know this love seems real
But I don't know how to feel.

We say goodbye in the pouring rain
And I break down as you walk away.
Stay, stay.
'Cause all my life I felt this way
But I could never find the words to say
Stay, stay.

Alright, everything is alright
Since you came along
And before you
I had nowhere to run to
Nothing to hold on to
I came so close to giving it up.
And I wonder if you know
How it feels to let you go?

You say goodbye in the pouring rain
And I break down as you walk away.
Stay, stay.
'Cause all my life I felt this way
But I could never find the words to say
Stay, stay.

So change your mind
And say you're mine.
Don't leave tonight
Stay.

Say goodbye in the pouring rain
And I break down as you walk away.
Stay, stay.
'Cause all my life I felt this way
But I could never find the words to say
Stay, stay.

Stay with me, stay with me,
Stay with me, stay with me,
Stay, stay, stay, stay with me.

How I Met Pugs

Going to have dinner with Pugs tonight. Yummo, yummo, yummo... we're having Chinese take-out from China House restaurant on Eglinton West. It's a celebratory dinner because she got a 6-month contract job that she starts on Monday. I'm really happy for her. And quite proud of her too. Pugs is my 59 year old friend who lives one floor down from me in my building.

We sometimes go to the movies, sometimes play cards, and she quite frequently invites me over for dinner. She's a nice lady, and though she's lonely, she's assertive and social and when she has no friends, she introduces herself to strangers.

I know this, because that's how we met.

2 years ago when I was still a dog-owner, I used to run into Pugs in the elevator with her little dog "Suzette". We communed as most dog owners do with the good fortune of having dogs that don't want to kill every other dog they encounter.

You get 3 guesses what breed of dog she has, and the first two guesses don't count.

When I first met Pugs, she kind of spooked me a little, because she was so forward and a little socially awkward. But... loneliness does that. I'm learning first hand. Sometimes the mere act of speaking to strangers seems to project a second holographic head beside your real one for people to gawk at as they reach for non-existent pepper spray.

The first time Pugs and I had a significant conversation was the day she saw me toting around a book. (not an unusual sight) It was the Time Traveler's Wife. She's an avid reader, and took full advantage of the opportunity to ask me what I thought of the plot, and since I was loving it, I told her so. The next time I saw Pugs, she told me she'd picked-up a copy of the book and was reading it too.

One day she kinda cornered me in the elevator and just blurted out, "John, are you gay"? Bold, top-of-the-mind inquisition that brought a smile to my face. I replied, "Yes I am". And she was pleased that I would admit it to her. She said she wondered because I always referred to the dogs being with "my ex" every second week, and never saying ex "girlfriend" or "wife". Pugs also wanted me to know she had no issues with gay people and she was worried that we'd never be friends if I couldn't tell her. She then asked me if we could be friends outright, to which I replied with more than a little inward trepidation that we could.

I'm a little ashamed to admit that, because really, being friends with Pugs has added a wonderful element to my home life. It's really nice to have a friend who lives in another apartment in your building. We've borrowed things from one another. I've helped her with things she couldn't do on her own, looked after plants, and I'm going to look after Suzy for her for a weekend in January. And she cooks for me, and lends me books, and quotes me poetry and tells me stories. We take turns paying when we go to movies and restaurants. It's kind of like having a mother who's a friend.
Admittedly, I don't treat her like a mother, because I have issues with her getting too close, because she can be a little ...eccentric, and demanding. But for the most-part, I really do enjoy being friends with Pugs, and like that I can help her and be company. I don't want to even allude to it being charity, because she's been a friend and company for me too. It's not like I'm mister popular.

Pugs is a kind woman. She's led an emotionally difficult life, and she doesn't wield her solitude like a crutch. I admire her. Even if she thinks her dog is actually speaking to her.

Perhaps a stage in life that waits for me too.

Elvis Presley - "Are You Lonesome Tonight"

Are you lonesome tonight,
Do you miss me tonight?
Are you sorry we drifted apart?
Does your memory stray to a brighter sunny day
When I kissed you and called you sweetheart?
Do the chairs in your parlor seem empty and bare?
Do you gaze at your doorstep and picture me there?
Is your heart filled with pain, shall I come back again?
Tell me dear, are you lonesome tonight?

I wonder if you're lonesome tonight
You know someone said that the worlds a stage
And each must play a part.
Fate had me playing in love you as my sweet heart.
Act one was when we met, I loved you at first glance
You read your line so cleverly and never missed a cue
Then came act two, you seemed to change and you acted strange
And why Ill never know.
Honey, you lied when you said you loved me
And I had no cause to doubt you.
But Id rather go on hearing your lies
Than go on living without you.
Now the stage is bare and I'm standing there
With emptiness all around
And if you wont come back to me
Then make them bring the curtain down.

Is your heart filled with pain, shall I come back again?
Tell me dear, are you lonesome tonight?