Cheery start, ain’t it? A very Happy New Year to y’all too. And while we are on the topic of cheer – I write this staring out of my window at a sparsely populated parking lot, covered in white. It’s minus 8 degrees outside. If that won’t make this a happy post, I don’t know what will.
For a few months now, I’ve been on a self- imposed sabbatical from Gaysi. Part writers block, part my very existence consuming all of my active brain cells. It has been an odd time to say the least. Funnily enough while I was living through it, it seemed highly unremarkable. However, in retrospect – the mundane was pretty darn colorful. Now, don’t go getting any funny ideas – I haven’t been banished from any straight kingdoms. I’m hale and hearty…heartier in fact (what? It was the holidays! …pot…kettle…*mutter mutter*) and aside from a slightly battered self-confidence, perpetual bed head and an annoying tendency to intersperse existential questions into conversations – I am A-Ok. Welcome to my Queer Quarter Life Crisis! So accurately timed that it astounds even…well, me.
This past year was exotic. For example, a month ago I landed in India. The very next morning, my mother and I were summoned in haste to the house of a terribly close dear old relative – someone I’d grown up knowing and liking and always visited during every trip down. It was especially painful since I was still coming to terms with the loss of another dear old relative who meant the world to me and everyone around me.
The lady had apparently collapsed. So there I am, 15 minutes later with two other people in a room, checking the pulse on someone who was …well, gone. Being terribly unqualified to declare someone …well, gone…I called up my Aunt a.k.a resident family doctor for tips – My Uncle picked up.
Me: Hey Uncle!
Uncle: Oh Hey! It’s you! When did you land?
Uncle: [Silence]……….What an entrance.
The funeral ceremonies got funnier because as much as they are mournful, the oddest crew of people who haven’t seen each other …for-evah come together for these things.
2nd Cousin: So are you planning to get married? (Apparently it’s polite to ask at funerals)
Me: Err… No. Are you? (It only seemed polite)
Luckily for me, she had an answer ready … and I hid my disdain under frantic but appropriate head nods. It was also a fail proof way to keep myself awake.
5th Cousin of my mother: So, are you “looking” for your younger daughter?
Mom: [strained grin] Not. Just. Yet.
Me: Oh, you aren’t? *feign surprise*
It gets better.
It’s the holidays. Mom, Dad, Uncle and Aunt – they were all at home. Family time! Oh wheee.
Scene: Dinner Table
Uncle: So, QC’s Dad! When are you going to retire?
Dad: oh! Hahahaha. My younger daughter has to “tell” me! And then we’ll see!
Uncle: Oh QC! Did you hear that? Ho ho ho! [Every bloody person is a bundle of cheer this time of the year]
Me [suddenly fascinated with the buttons on the microwave]: How about tomorrow, dad?
Later on, my uncle proceeds to declare that I need a boyfriend.
Me: I need a drink. That is what I need.
Notice how my mother who knows I am gay is conveniently absent or “in another room” during all these conversations? Yeah. I did too. Hrmph!
Last week, the first week of the year, the time for new beginnings… Everything came to a massive grinding screeching halt….Everything came crashing down…. Everything I ever worked for…[blah blah blah…Insert doomsday metaphor of choice here].
I won’t get into the details of what exactly happened because in five years it will be giggle-worthy and then I’ll be forced to live with my dramatic tendencies archived permanently on Gaysi for the next quarter of my life. Unadvisable, me thinks. Let’s focus instead on the stupidities I proceeded to engage in immediately after the said event.
It was 2 pm. Jet lagged, I proceeded to consume an entire bottle of wine in 45 minutes (unintentionally, I assure you; it was just really good) and reading couplets (yes, I said couplets). Realizing that I needed more wine, I ventured to a nearby wine store and proceeded to have a very engaging discussion on different types of wines with wine store clerk (it’s amazing how much more the brain recalls when you are imbibing) and tottered back home with more wine (ideally at this point, you probably think I need supervision; you wouldn’t be incorrect] I plopped onto my bed at 4 PM and passed out. Only to wake up at 10 pm and ponder where I was.
And it’s during days or nights like those (it could have been any; I was still massively jet lagged) that all the priorities, significant events, people, work and messiness in your life boils down to …eating leftover sushi in the dark. Hah.
Still, the next few days I thrived on 2-3 hours of sleep a day if I was lucky. And when my brain started functioning again, I realized much to my joy that all 51 weeks that follow hence, had to be better than the one I just went through. Hurrah!
So the point of all this stream of consciousness that you were forced to endure and read is profound …despite my queerness resembling that annoying piece of plastic left over from a price tag on a new shirt that scratches and itches.
I will finally get down to writing that Strap-On story.
How else will I tell you about the two times I got lucky last year? *Big Wide Grin*