Well, Would You?

When I’m bored at a stoplight, I watch the cars passing in the opposite lane and play a game in my head called, Would You Suck His Dick?

I win the game if:

1. More of the cars that pass contain male drivers than female drivers, and
2. I vote “yes” more often than “no”

Kid Walking

Most mornings while I’m at my car getting ready to leave, this kid walks past on his way to the bus stop. He’s a senior, and one of the nicer kids in the neighborhood. Usually, he’s in shorts and flip flops. Once, he was carrying a guitar. Today, he was wearing a tie.

I’m surprised to say that I processed this photo in Instagram, and I love the results. For a cell phone app, I’m becoming impressed.

Katherine Chancellor’s Final Scene

As a follow up to my post yesterday about the passing of Jeanne Cooper, here’s her last scene on The Young and the Restless, which aired less than a week ago, on Friday, May 4.

It’s a bit haunting, one last “good night” from Mrs. C. It’s so sad to me.

Either they knew she wasn’t coming back or this is quite a coincidence.

RIP, Jeanne Cooper

Confession: I’ve watched “The Young and the Restless” off and on since I was a little kid. It was on the TV when my mom would give me lunch and it was Katherine Chancellor (and her then boy-toy husband) who first caught my attention. And since she was the first character I noticed, I think it’ll be fitting if her tribute episode, whenever it airs, is the last time I watch the show.

As crazy as it sounds, after watching Jeanne Cooper for almost my whole life, I kind of feel like someone I really know has died. (And I want to be just like Katherine, boy-toy husbands and all, when I’m an old lady.)

My Corey

I spent most of yesterday afternoon feeling like I was going to toss my cookies. Fortunately, the feeling passed by about 4pm, and it was completely gone by 6pm when my dear friend Corey decided to come over and cook me dinner.

Uncomfortably Alone

So there’s this guy who’s kind of been flirting with me off and on for a few months.

Let me back up for a minute.

When I become single, for about three months there was this long parade of crushes and boys and interesting fellows . . . there was Michael and Luke and Jay #2, and Jeffrey and Patrick and Damien, and another Michael, and maybe even another Michael. And Sam. And Rod. And Jason. And another Luke. And more.

And then around Valentine’s Day, something changed in me. I lost interest. In all of them. I realized that “dating” was the last thing that I wanted to do, and having a crush was the second to last thing that I wanted to do. And I really haven’t, since then.

But this one guy, he’s kind of been talking to me on and off since the beginning of this all. He’s different from the aforementioned guys that have expressed interest in me so far in one big way: He’s not under 30 years old. He actually IS my age. Maybe even a little older. And he’s also an artist, which I like. And he’s active in the community. And he’s handsome and in shape and dresses well. I should be hanging out with him.

But… despite all of that, I’m just not feeling like putting any effort into hanging out with him.

I don’t know what my deal is anymore. On one hand I miss some things, like having someone to hug and sleep next to, and I really miss kissing/making out with a guy. But then now, any time I have an opportunity to maybe do any of these things, I’m like, “eh, I don’t think so.”

If I were being honest with myself, I know what it is. I have about six good reasons to NOT be looking for a person to date right now. And I think they’re all valid reasons. I’ll tell you what they are next time I talk about this stuff.

But at the same time I feel like I should at least be open to meeting some new people. And I’m not. And that feeling is getting even more ingrained in my persona, to the point that I feel like I might never go back to looking, again. I guess that would be okay, too. It just doesn’t seem like the “me” that I’ve always been.

I’m Lucky

A few of the people I have photographed have become some of my best friends. A couple of my photo subjects have, despite our brief encounter, changed my life.

During my best shoots, I’ll get to take part in an experience that no amount of time could make me forget.

And then I’ve photographed one or two creepers and an occasional asshat.

Someday, when I’m old, I’ll write memoirs and tell all.

Chicago

I took my model Mickey, who’s become one of my good friends, to Chicago this weekend. I wanted to visit some of my best friends, Courtney and Charlie (and Bea) one last time before they move away from the city, and Mickey hadn’t spent a lot of time in Chicago, so I was excited to show him around.

We spent a lot of time downtown, doing touristy things.

Here is Willis Tower. We tried to go up to the observation deck, but there was about a thousand people in line in front of us, so we didn’t wait.

Here is Mickey at the Bean.

The Chicago river going into Lake Michigan. Off to the right, you’ll see a bit of one of my favorite buildings in Chicago, which is called Aqua.

Instead of Willis Tower, we went to the observation floor of the John Hancock Center. The 94th floor is not quite as high as Willis, but you’d never know it when you’re up there. And personally, I think the view from Hancock is better. It’s closer to the lake and you can see more of downtown.

We sat at the cafe in the Observatory for a long time. We had a great conversation and a couple of bottled waters. Between the peacefulness of it, the view, and the good conversation, I could have stayed there until sunset. Here’s Mickey.

Mickey asked me which of the four directions/windows I liked best. I pointed to the south and said I liked this one because you could see the lake and downtown. He then asked someone to take a photo of the two of us in that window. I thought that was sweet.

The outside of the Hancock.

You can see a sliver of Trump Tower here.

A subway platform/tunnel.

There was a comic convention in town, so there were a lot of people in costume on the trains.

Bea, my goddaughter, really liked Mickey too. I thought that was cute. Mickey later said that he never thought he’d “meet a Bea that he loved more than his fav Golden Girl.”

I also got to see some of my favorite Chicagoans this weekend: Marc, Chris, AK, and a former model of mine. As always, I missed a lot of photo opportunities. Last week was rather stressful for me, but this weekend away was exactly what I needed.

Feh, Underwhelmed

I went out to dinner with someone last weekend (I guess you could call it a “date”). I’m not really in “dating mode” right now and frankly, I wouldn’t have been all that interested in this guy even if I was (he’s not physically my type, nor do I think we have anything in common), but it had become clear that he wasn’t going to stop asking me out until I said yes. And so I said yes.

It could be that the only reason I agreed was because he is short (I like short guys), and because he supposedly has an 8-1/2 inch dick.

Anyway, I walked into the diner where we agreed to meet and sat down. And the guy started talking. He’s was definitely a talker, which was okay with me because then I could just sit back and listen. He was VERY nerdy — and not the kind of nerdy that’s cute somehow, but the kind of nerdy that makes him look like he could log onto any computer in the world and start a nuclear war. He kept talking. His phone rang.

He answered it.

Tacky.

And so he talked to this person for three or four minutes and I looked over the menu, and then he ended his call with “Love you.” So then he proceeds to tell me about his boyfriend.

I’m not a prude, but if you’re in an open relationship, isn’t that something you should tell someone BEFORE you take him out?

Throughout dinner, he kept talking. I couldn’t stop noticing the fact that his eyes were set farther apart than any person I have even looked at. He said some things that were mildly amusing, and a couple of things that were not amusing at all. This was taking place on Friday night, and the TVs in the restaurant were all playing live footage of the Boston bombing suspect being taken into custody. My date’s comment (twice) was that, “I’ll believe it when I see it, they already fucked up and said they caught him once.”

It crossed my mind to be snarky, and say to him, “Look at the TV, you ARE seeing it? There he is, what more do you need?”

Then my date ended the meal by telling me that he’s a bad tipper. He told me that he just doesn’t have the money to “share the wealth.” This was the dealbreaker of dealbreakers. Sorry, but if you don’t have the money to leave a tip, you don’t have the money to eat out. Eating out and then being a jerk to your server is not an option, if you ask me.

I don’t think I’ll be going on another “date” for a while. I’m not ready for this.

The Next Step Towards Moving On

I’m signing over the deed to my house today, which will remove me from the mortgage. So tonight about 5:30 pm, the house I helped build will no longer belong to me; it will belong solely to Jay.

Frankly, this is a little weird, but I have to remember that six months ago this is exactly what I hoped would happen. Things are working out the way I wanted them to. It’s still strange. I feel free, and happy, and sad, and regretful, and optimistic, and scared.

I guess that’s the beauty of being human. You can have all of these emotions that are opposed to each other existing in you at the same time. And it wouldn’t be right if it were any other way.