Monthly Archives: April 2006

Satta Massagana

Bill was at his folks after having an infection dug out of his back by a dermatologist. He was scheduled to spend the night at his parents anyway. He had an infection under his skin and it started to make its presence known through a rather unpleasant odor. So he hightailed it to a dermatologist who hooked him up with a hack. So there is a hole that needs dressing on occasion and that’s something that doesn’t sound like fun since I’m the one who will be changing it.

It’s a cyst! A cyst filled with old sweat, which became infected. And funky, not in a good way. I will be changing the dressing soon. He said that before I go to bed I would see it. Julio calls it the bacon. He had to do the same thing with his ex-roommate years ago. Nearly the exact same situation. I had a crush on Julio’s ex-roommate years ago and he had a cyst on his back. Am I attracted to men with cysts on their back? Is there a support group? Or a chat room?

It was a busy day. I woke up out of sorts, since Bill was at his folk’s. I stumbled about the apartment and had my breakfast. Walked to the Path train, and got off at Christopher Street, all the while listening to Burning Spear, “Social Living”. I had to set up once again for a breakfast meeting and pulled it off. The other day I had to purchase more food than I originally ordered. It went untouched and I was reimbursed.

It turns out though, that the meeting was cancelled. No one told me so I was off the hook on that matter. I was able to have a muffin and some grapes. The day was fairly quiet. Felicia had her thing going on regarding her cancer treatment. I was able to work at a relaxed pace which was easy since a lot of people were out.

I wonder though, if Felicia is leaving the company. I recall after my first interviews I saw a listing on for the office manager position in Soho for an advertising agency. I applied to it then and was considered and declined. And this situation with Felicia makes me wonder.

High drama, if not Shakespearean, then Marsha Norman.

I was able to help a few coworkers with their tasks and they were most appreciative. It was relatively stress free. I didn’t feel the need to run around like I’ve been doing the past eight days. It was really a relaxed atmosphere.

I had yet another in a series of salads for lunch and talked to my brother Frank on my cell while I ate in the park. I once made out with some guy from Queens in this park after a gay pride parade. Or was it a Queen named Guy? I also parked on this block when I saw New Order at the Paradise Garage in 1982. Mescaline. So there’s a history of sorts.

Uh huh.

Nothing to write about in the afternoon. Afterwork I walked down to the World Trade Center Path train, smoking a Padron. Tribeca has changed considerably since before 9/11. Lot’s of Bistros and café’s. Very trendy.

It was a great walk, the weather was perfect. I got on an in a not too crowded train and sat reading ‘The Love You Make” by Peter Brown and Steven Gaines. Peter Brown was an aide to the Beatles in the sixties. It’s a fun gossipy read.

Now it’s time to put the gauze into Bill’s open wound. It’s about a centimeter wide and thick. He just took a shower and now it’s time to put new gauze on it.

After a few attempts Julio guided me through it while judging with Bill’s threshold of pain.

Positive Vibration

The week has flown by. I woke up thinking it was Wednesday. One of those instances when it’s good to be wrong. Today is Thursday. I had to get into work early since I had two meetings to take care of, sign for breakfast, set up the breakfast, make coffee and arrange the food that is barely touched.

I am definitely trying to be positive in the new job. I smile, whistle, tell someone, “nice shirt, blouse etc”. I try to interact. The women who hosted the meetings thanked me and that was nice and kind. Most of the men don’t interact. I guess they are sussing me out. Trying to figure out what’s what. There’s a new guy, Justin who seems cool. I should perhaps gravitate to him. We can be newbies together.

Julio and Bill have been supportive of me in the sense to not give in and it’s greatly appreciated. I know my only option is that I have to hang in there. Bill and Julio have been resolute in talking me through this. Someday we’ll look back on this and it will all seem funny.

I do have issues with things like this, severe changes. Annemarie mentioned something a while back about how when she was in eighth grade and I was in first grade, they had to pry my fingers from the fence outside in the playground when classes began in the school. I was crying and screaming and wanted my mother to come back and not leave me with these people.

I had forgotten that for a long time and when Annemarie told me about it, it slowly started to come back to me. I remembered the feeling. I also thought about how it looked. Like I was looking at film of me being pried off the fence kicking and screaming. This happened frequently, if not daily. I never liked school, except for eighth grade. That’s about it.

I wonder what happened to a few classmates from grammar school. I saw two of them at my high school reunion. They wondered as well. But I never cross paths with anyone from those days. I hope their all doing well. After no contact with my classmates for thirty years, I really doubt we’d have anything in common. I’m sure I’m not the only gay person. I did hear that Gwen Garicki was a lesbian. We were voted class clowns back in the day. Somewhere there is a picture with Gwen and I stone faced holding an open umbrella amongst cardboard cutouts of a flood.

I still think it’s a funny picture. Makes me smile thirty years later. A surrealist at 13.

Who knew? I sometimes still dream of St. Francis de Sales school. I remember the smell when the parish had the Bazaar in June. That was magical. I only went to a handful of the Bazaars, but I remember the coin toss where you win a dish. I remember the smell of sausages cooking, the sounds of riders on the Octopus and the Tip Top. St. Joseph’s Boulevard was the center of my world.

Now it’s here.