porter_inc: (slight smile)
Here, in no particular order, is a list of the best parties I've ever attended:

- Orlando's 30th birthday (can I list this if I helped organize it? Who cares, it's probably the best party I've been to.)

- A frat party my freshman year (the name of the frat escapes me) where I received my first... Where I was pleasured orally for the first time. Funny how something that's over so quickly can leave such a lasting impression. I remember nothing else about that girl but bubblegum pink lipstick.

- My 14th birthday. Dad was out of town and Mom let me have Pete over to spend the night. All we did was listen to music, watch TV (Mom rented us a VCR and some movies) and eat a lot of junk food, but it was awesome. It might not technically count as a party since it was only my best friend, me and Mom, but it was definitely one of my better birthday celebrations.

And now for the worst:

- My wedding reception. I don't have enough time to list the reasons why this rates as one of the worst, but I'm sure you can figure them out.

- Every Christmas party I ever had to attend for work. As much fun as it sounds to be trapped under the mistletoe by drunken female colleagues or the drunken wives of colleagues, it was mainly awkward and did nothing to raise my level of Christmas cheer.

- Every fundraiser/benefit/begging for dollars type thing I attended as a representative of Hamilton-Fairhaven.

- Another frat party later in my freshman year where my shoes were mistaken for a toilet and some poor girl yakked all over them.


Mar. 2nd, 2007 04:10 am
porter_inc: (omg dude)
Talia's pregnant according to my mother. Ex wifey called her to share the news so she could let me know. She and lawyer man are breeding. That's... That baby's going to be born with horns and a tail, I know it.

I'd actually wish them well if I hadn't found out Talia spilled the details of our marriage to some rag. All that goodwill I'd worked so very hard to feel towards her went away just like that.

The one thing I did right in our marriage was not get crazy and insist on having a kid with her after she "lost" the first one. I'd be tied to the witch forever.

My Ann and Helene's kid is going to be so much cuter than that spawn of evil.

Shit. I should take that back. I keep forgetting I'm trying to be a better person.

It's not the kid's fault it's going to be born to the icy bitch and the shyster them. I hope it's born healthy and grows up to be intelligent and well-liked, thus, guaranteeing it won't follow in its parents' footsteps. Poor kid.
porter_inc: (scruffy)
I'm disappointed that things didn't work out with me and Peter. Before I say anything else, let me qualify that by saying that I couldn't be happier with my life, now. But every now and then I think about Pete and feel a little wistful.

I suppose the main reason I'm disappointed that I'm not going to be Mr. Peter Cavanaugh, one day, is because it felt as if we were destined to be together. Look at our relationship. It's got all the elements of a happy ever after.

We met when we were 11 years old and were both sent to the principal's office. An instant friendship was formed and we became inseparable. Over the years, the friendship grew even stronger. We supported each other through everything. He became the most important figure in my life besides my mother and was the only one who knew how to make me feel better about anything. We loved each other in that way that close friends do.

Peter made no secret of the fact that he's gay. In high school, he didn't date anyone, and while he never came right out and said that he was interested in guys, somehow I just knew. There were a couple of drunken incidents between us, things I denied for my own reasons, but he never let that affect our friendship. Rather, he never let my rejection of them, or him, really, affect things between us.

The drama came during college. When Peter found out I was getting married, he confronted me about denying my own sexuality and tried to convince me not to go through with the wedding. He kissed me, and it was my reaction to it that made me realize I needed to shut him out of my life. I couldn't be with him. I had to marry the woman carrying my baby and prove to my father that I wasn't what he thought I was, end of story. I kept track of Pete through my mom because she wasn't willing to cut him out of her life just because I was angry with him. But, really, I was never angry with him.

When I received word that Peter's lover of seven years had been killed, I couldn't ignore that. The news had shocked me into action, reminding me that life was too short to hold onto grudges that shouldn't have existed in the first place. That's why I went to the funeral to see him.

We talked. A lot. We caught up on each other's lives and cleared the air about what had happened. He met Talia, he came over to spend time with us, we took the dogs for their run together. Just when it looked as if I had my best friend back, he told me that he could see how unhappy I was and he couldn't stand it. And when he kissed me, I didn't push him away.

Our affair was one of the most incredible, exciting, satisfying things I've ever experienced. I'm the one who insisted on keeping it a secret instead of being honest with Talia. It was unfair to both her and Peter, but I couldn't bear the thought of a divorce. He didn't fight me on it. I think he was still dealing with the grief over losing Kory, so we were both getting what we needed and wanted from the relationship.

Then Talia caught us. The shame and guilt I felt would have been unbearable if not for Peter. Same thing for the divorce. He stood by my side, unwavering, loving me throughout all of it and when we were finally free to be together... It didn't happen.

The both of us tried, we really did. But I told him that I didn't want to lose him as my friend if we ever broke up. He told me that we'd never break up so it was a moot point, but I didn't have his faith in my ability to settle down with him. We ended things and agreed to be the best of friends. In fact, we'd made a promise to one another that we'd always be first in each other's lives no matter what other relationships we had. That included a physical relationship. I abided by that, too, until Orlando.

But after all those years and all that drama, when everything should have had a happy ending and Peter and I should have ended up living happily ever after, I ended things for fear of getting my heart broken. It seems kind of silly now.


Feb. 23rd, 2007 09:56 pm
porter_inc: (thinking)
Mom knows that I'm not a practicing Catholic. She knows that I only do the Big Masses when I'm in the mood and that's about it. So why would she scold me for not going to church on Wednesday (Ash Wednesday - which I actually forgot because the Catholic fucking church is not really on my mind much these days) and not giving up anything for Lent? Believe it or not, there's an answer.

She wants to make sure that God sees fit to make sure the baby's born healthy, and, since I'm the father, it's important for me to "be vigilant" while Ann's pregnant. (Maybe angry hordes are on the hunt for her and the bambino...?) I'm not sure if she knows that Ann's an agnostic.

I don't know when my mother turned into a religious freak and lost her grip on reality. You'd think that there would be warning signs or something. I didn't have the energy to tell her that if my being a good little boy is what would keep the baby safe, the poor kid wouldn't have a chance.

My mother is usually a very rational, grounded woman, so I know that all the excitement about Baby is making her a little loony. I'm thinking of humoring her and telling her that I'll give up scotch starting today. I won't, but I'll tell her I did.

Oh boy!

Jan. 15th, 2007 04:35 am
porter_inc: (happy)
ooc: Although Will's talking about the party in the past tense, it's still going strong. And he won't be doing a drunken striptease on a table because he's a good boy. Thanks to everyone who's playing! You guys are the best! :-)

First of all, I feel like I'm still recovering from the party and the, um, after party that sort of stretched into Sunday. It's the good kind of recovery that involves lying around with my superhotsexylover, basking in afterglow. I'm glad today's a holiday, though, even if we don't technically have to go to work.

Random thought... Ray told me that Cordy's party was the same day as Orli's even though her birthday's the 14th. I wonder if whoever threw it (I swear he told me, but my brain's fried at the mo) knew that today's a holiday so it could have technically been done on the actual day for her. Bummer. *gasp* Unless it was a conscious decision to have it a day early in a blatant attempt to steal Orlando's thunder!!! Mark my words!!! No one can steal his thunder because A) He's fabulous, B) He's amazing and C) It's secured by The Club.

Oh my god, before you send your cards and letters, I'm totally being sarcastic (except for the fabulous and amazing bits. Those are true and I'll get that statement notarized, thank you very much). My IQ's 145 above average. I can figure out that Saturday is the universally accepted best day for a partay. I'm actually feeling bad that the flowers were sent the day after her celebration.

[locked from Orli]
I'm pissed. Despite my best efforts, details about my baby's party still got leaked to the press (Mom called to tell me). It's embarrassing to have the estimates of what everything cost (you know how those tabloid shows do it) plastered all over the place. I guess it's better that it got out after the actual party, and that usually happens with secret celeb type things, but I still feel bad. Next year, beach party on some secluded island where cameras haven't even been invented. Good? Good.

On the agenda today...

I have no idea. I'm going to make breakfast right now (according to Will's law, my Boo's birthday weekend doesn't end until midnight), then see what he wants to do from there.

ETA: Maybe we should have a manly workout to prove my manly manliness and dispel the rumors that I'm a big ol' girl. Just a thought.
porter_inc: (blue filter)
The Morning After

That's a song by Maureen McGovern from The Poseidon Adventure. It won an Oscar for Best Song and became a hit the summer after I was born. Much like Eric Cartman from South Park, I know the whole song and can sing it for you any time you'd like to hear my butchered rendition. Mom used to play it so much when I was growing up, I didn't really have much choice but to learn it by heart.

When I was 10, I asked Mom why she listened to it so often, and she told me that if I really listened to the words, I'd find hope in them. The moment I did that, I understood. Mom clung to that song the way I used to cling to my favorite teddy bear - the one with the missing eye and torn ear I'd never let her fix. It was her comfort whenever my father would dole out his "punishment." The mornings he would leave for work and I would have to get myself off to school, I knew it was because he'd been too rough with her the night before. I could hear the muted strains of the song coming from their room, and if I pressed my ear to the door, I could hear Mom crying. She never wanted me to see her cry, so I would leave without saying goodbye. I knew that she would be having a particularly bad day if I still heard the song playing when I came home. On those days, I would go into her room and curl up on the bed next to her. We wouldn't ever talk about it, and we would always be up and have dinner ready before Dad came home.

When I got married, the one thing I insisted on was that the song Mom and I danced to be The Morning After. No one understood why we hadn't chosen a more traditional song for the occasion, and Talia continued to voice her displeasure long after the reception had ended. I never felt the need to explain myself to her, though.

The day Dad died, I left work and rushed home to be with Mom. Dad had suffered a massive coronary while he was changing a light bulb in the hall closet. It had been quick, and no manner of life saving measures would have saved him. He was probably dead before he hit the ground, they said. When I arrived at the house, the coroner had just left, and Mom was sitting in the living room, a glass of Dad's favorite scotch in her hand. She asked me to play that song for her, and for the first time in my life, when I looked at her face as it played, I saw hope.


Jan. 12th, 2007 01:25 am
porter_inc: (serious)
I'm a pretty easy going guy, for the most part. Well, except for this jealousy stuff, but I'm actually learning to deal with that! I don't want to turn into some psycho who refuses to let my sweetie have fun just because I'm insecure, you know? I had enough of that with Kevin. So better to nip it on the bud now before it gets embarrassing and one day I come across like a raving lunatic.

But all of this new madness aside, I am easy going. I get mad when people attack the people I love, but I think that's just a human reaction. When I'm attacked, though, I generally curl up into a ball and apologize until it's over and the other person is satisfied. It's a pretty good defense and one I've had since I can remember. But when someone I consider to be a friend hurts me, I don't really have a defense for that. I'm a sap because I still want to try and make things right with them even if they shut me out. And even when they stop talking to me, I live in the vain hope that they'll get over whatever it is they're upset about and one day be my friend again. No matter how angry and hurt Pete and I might get with one another, I'll still do anything for him. I really need to learn how to cut my losses, though. Especially since I know that if they were ever in trouble, I'd help them in any way I could, but I couldn't really say the same for them. I know that the word "friend" doesn't have the same meaning for some that it does for me. I really am a sucker sometimes. Mom says I'm kind, I just think I'm a patsy who takes people at face value and who tends to trust people far too quickly. Sometimes easy going can lead to someone being a doormat.

Okay, I need to stop this. Thinking about the divorce has stirred up a lot of crap in my head and it's making me relive some really shitty moments in my life. It's over and done. The people I thought were my friends picked a side and it wasn't mine. I have to move on and stop thinking I can ever be close to them again. Divorce sucks. Ex wives suck. Lawyers suck. Ex wives who marry lawyers suck. Friends who pick the ex over me suck. There. I think that may have helped. (Orli, is there some kind of mediation thing I can do to forgive all the crap?)

On a lighter note, I woke Orli up this morning by giving him a zerbert on his tummy. I couldn't resist.


Jan. 8th, 2007 05:47 pm
porter_inc: (laugh sunglasses)
[locked from Orlando]

I called Ray's boss today to see if he could get time off for Orli's party. Man, Ray wasn't kidding about that guy. He was gruff, no nonsense, and had no idea who Orlando is. I heard him ask someone there (a secretary, assistant, fellow officer maybe?), then I heard a lot of chatter before he got back on the phone. He said, and I have to quote this because it made me giggle, "Apparently, some of my female staff have heard of him." Then he asked who I was, and once it was established that I wasn't some nutball (not an easy feat, you know), he finally heard me out.

I explained that Ray and I are acquaintances (I didn't want to say friends in case it sounded too casual) and that I'm concerned about problems with the press at Orlando's party. I told him I wanted to know if he could please allow Ray to fly out and act as security for Orli since I already know and trust him. He said he'd discuss it with Ray and thanked me for my call. I'm not sure if that's good or bad. Anyway, he seemed like a decent guy and I'm pretty sure he'll give the okay for Ray. I'm going to make a donation to the Chicago Police Department Memorial Foundation regardless.


Birds of a feather really do flock together, don't they? I was thinking about Mom and her friends today (no particular reason other than general musing) and it occurred to me that they're so different, but so alike. If anyone ever got on their bad side, they'd probably rip them apart as a group. It's a little frightening how vicious females can be when they gather. It makes me very, very happy to no longer be married to one. I've got some stories about Talia, but they're best saved for a night of drinking with the guys.

I love my mom. She's the sweetest woman I know, but I know she's got a bitchy side to her when she gets pissed off enough. My bitchy side has got to come from her. Like mother, like son. I refuse to believe I have any of my father's temper. He was unnecessarily cruel and I would never dream of doing the things he did when he got angry. Okay, enough talking about Dad. (How's hell, you bastard?)

I heard from Sandy today!! She broke up with what's his name and is thinking of moving out here!! She can't stand HF anymore and is putting out some feelers for the east coast. I have to discuss this with Orli, but I was thinking that maybe she could work for me again. Once we start doing our traveling, we'll need someone to take care of the house and the animals, as well as things like paying the bills, easing our minds in general so we can be gone without worrying about things back home. She's amazing, I adore her, I trust her and I miss her so much! She was the best assistant I ever had.

And randomly: the way Orli squeezes his eyes shut when he laughs makes me want to cover his sweet little face with kisses. There is no one on the planet more adorable than he is.

porter_inc: (smile)
So I couldn't make all my entries this weekend because we were with Mom, but I'll just make this one count for Saturday and today. She's now the proud mama of a little dog and a little cat. When we went to the shelter, we were told that they'd been raised together and their owner had just passed away. We couldn't bear the thought of separating them. Mom was so happy to get her new babies, and now they have a good home with a woman who is going to spoil them rotten. The dog is Pepper (a grey and white terrier mix) and the cat is Hattie (a calico). I'll have to take pictures the next time I visit because I didn't think to do it this time. Mom's very happy, though.

We have a new member of the family, too (another kitty! - pictures to come) :-D and Orli made a donation to the shelter to save some more babies. There's something really sexy about a man who wants to save animals. (To quote Marge Simpson, tonight I'm going to snuggle your brains out, you sweet man.)

Hmm, what do I love today? Besides the animal-saving, it's got to be how much fun you are in the car.

Bad son

Jan. 3rd, 2007 06:32 pm
porter_inc: (thinking)
I called Mom to check and see how she was doing, and she started crying. She'd gotten so used to having me and the puppies in the house, now it feels really lonely without us. I think I'll buy her a couple of pups of her own. I feel so bad. I called Peter and told him to go have dinner with her tonight. This weekend, I'll go up to Hartford to get the rest of my stuff and spend some time with her. And remind her that once the baby comes, she'll forget all about me! I know she really won't, but she'll at least forget to be so lonely.

My Orli thought of the day (in haiku form):

Little tea drinker
So careful when you prepare
You make it the best

(Told you I'd subject you to my haikus one day!!)

Day two.

Jan. 2nd, 2007 06:05 pm
porter_inc: (slight smile)
I really am going to try and write in this thing every day, this year. I did it for a little while, but then fizzled out. It helped that I was going into the office. I would sit down with my cappuccino and write up a little entry. That's why I always used that coffee icon, in case anyone was wondering. But this year I'm dumping that and just writing whatever, whenever. Er, every day. Damn it, I almost forgot.

Oh, I learned a new Spanish phrase, courtesy of Snake!

Que carajo quieres comemierda?

I'm almost all moved in, by the way! Just a few odds and ends still at Mom's.


Sometimes I wish I didn't read my flist.



For Orlando:

I love your honesty.


Dec. 30th, 2006 12:59 pm
porter_inc: (Default)
Janice called back. It's up to him to call her after the new year. She was happy to hear from me and asked how I was doing. I froze. Conditioning! But I said fine and asked for a referral for myself.

I have a sinus thing but it's not a cold. No fever. Just sniffles and congestion. Nonetheless, Mom's drowning me in chicken soup. And hot toddies. I keep passing out. Now, I just pour them down the drain before I get alcohol poisoning.

Peter broke up with the boytoy because he was too immature. Pot. Kettle. Black. Kidding. It sounds like they wanted different things from life. The boytoy wanted to go out every night, get drunk, do drugs, be an all around hot little party monster. And Peter's 34. Heh. I should remember that for the next time I talk to him.

Talia called to tell me lawyer man broke the lamp I gave her for a wedding gift and asked for the name of the store where I bought it. Bastard probably did it on purpose because he hates Tiffany lamps. She heard about Lesbian Knock Up 2007 and congratulated me on my impending fatherhood. Then she went into a long, sad discussion about the baby we lost and how he or she would have turned thirteen this year, she and I would probably still be happily married and I wouldn't have felt the need to "become involved in that gay nonsense" since I would have had fatherly responsibilities. I honestly didn't know where to start telling her what was wrong with pretty much everything that she said beginning with the lesbians. She did get the age of the kid right, though. God, me with a teenager? Jesus wept.

Ann and Helene came by. They've decided that Ann will carry the bambino. Good choice. She's prettier, more intelligent, athletic, great sense of humor, no visible deformities and I would actually have sex with her if they wanted to do it that way. Okay, that last part's a lie, but the rest is true. I love Helene, and it's not as if she could pass for the Creature from the Black Lagoon or anything. Ann's just got more of everything. It's kind of like me and Orli. On my own, I'm not bad. But Orli's got more of everything. Anyway, Operation Babymaker looks like it's really going to happen this time. And I've decided not to have anything to do with the offspring other than them sending me pictures so I have proof it didn't turn out looking like an ape. It's not going to be my child and if they want to have a father figure in its life, they can sure as hell do better than me. And if anything happens to this one, too, I don't want to be able to care so much. Mom's ready to play Grandma, though, and scolded me quite handily when I reminded her that it wouldn't really be her grandchild after the papers are all signed. She said, and I quote, "William, I would be a grandmother to that baby if Mickey Mouse was the father. These girls are my friends and have asked me to be involved, and I will be for as long as they need me." Then I made a comment about the set of ears that kid would have if Mickey was the dad, not to mention being born with big, puffy, white glove-clad hands. She kicked me out of the kitchen and finished her tea with the ladies. Ann and Helene were laughing, though. See? Lesbians aren't all granola-crunching, Birkenstock-wearing, "global-warming-is-real"-gabbing, "I-lost-my-sense-of-humor-the-first-time-a -girl-went-down-on-me"-doing, man-hating, feminazis. In fact, I would be willing to bet that most of them are like Ann and Helene. And, as with any group, the extremists get all the press.

Evie called just to say hi. She's so sweet. I mean, even if she wasn't my sister (allegedly - DNA test next month), I would really like her. Get this: she says stuff the way I do. I know it's the other way around and is due to Dad, but every now and then she sounds like me. Is that freaky or what? And kind of cool. From the sounds of things, her brother - our brother - is just like Dad. Poor bastard. But she told me all about her latest casting project and how much trouble they're having finding someone to play the lead. I told her I'd do it as a favor but she had to promise not to want to cast me in everything after that because I just wouldn't have the time and would hate to feel obligated. Then I told her about my engagement, she screamed and congratulated me. I love this girl already.

Wendell and Blade are in love. Er, I mean, they're just "really good friends" who never leave each other's side, snuggle at night and do the same cute little doggie moves that make Mom want to deck them out in horrendous doggie sweaters. Poor babies. If I see them donning spandex and going for bike rides, I'm going to nickname them "Gyllenstrong."

The new year is almost here and the possibilities are endless. Please, God, don't let Orli break up with me.


Dec. 28th, 2006 02:09 am
porter_inc: (cappucino heart)
Today I called the lesbians and told them that I'll be happy to knock one of them up. I had discussed it with Orli first because... Just because. And he's all right with it, bless him. Ann told me she's going to ask Mom if she would mind being there as a "grandmother" since her parents are deceased and Helene's folks have disowned her. I told her that she needs to expect a high pitched squeal when she does ask Mom to do that. Of course, Mom won't have any legal rights to the bundle and neither will I, so I'm a little worried about Mom getting hurt. Then again, my mother's a lot more resilient than I've ever given her credit for - just look at the circumstances with Evie and her brother. Anyway, I'll be signing all the necessary paperwork for the lesbians when it's time. Right now, they're looking at late January/early February for the launch date. I offered to do it the natural way and Ann very sweetly told me to "shut the fuck up, pervert!" Nice mouth you got there, Mama. :-) Oh, there will have to be sacrifices, though. When it's time for the harvesting, I won't be able to have sex or diddle lest I send my soldiers swirling down the shower drain or shooting down Orli's throat when either Ann or Helene will need them. It's all very strange and they've recommended the four of us do some counseling to ensure that all parties are fine, etc. Can't hurt, right? I want to make sure that Orli's okay through every step of this.

[locked] )
porter_inc: (phone)
Will had told himself he wouldn't let what Peter had said bother him, and because he wanted to enjoy the first official day of his engagement to his sweetheart, he managed to succeed for a while. It wasn't until he decided to take a few minutes to call his mom and wish her a Merry Christmas that he thought about talking to Peter, too. Pete would be over at Inez's, along with the lesbians and his mother's gentleman friend, and he knew that his mom would put Peter on the phone.

Sure enough, after he had told her everything about the previous evening (almost everything) and listened to her gush for a while about wanting to tell all her friends the good news, she told him to hold on while she hunted down Peter. Will didn't have a choice, really. He didn't want his mom to know that anything was wrong.

"Hi, Will. Merry Christmas." Pete sounded contrite. Good, Will thought.

"Thanks, Pete. Merry Christmas to you, too." Will cleared his throat. "I just called to talk to Mom and I didn't want to tell her not to bother you. You know she worries when she thinks we're fighting."

"Will, I'm sorry. I'm a jerk. I didn't mean to dump all over you like that." Peter sighed, and Will could imagine him rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. He always did that when he was nervous or upset.

"You mean there was another way you wanted to dump on me?" Will smiled, not sure why he was kidding around. His feelings had really been hurt, but he didn't want to hold onto anything that could ruin this day.

"I'm serious, Will," Peter continued. "Listen, let me take you out to dinner when you get back."

"Okay, I'll ask Orli if he--"

"Just you," Peter said, cutting him off. "I owe you an apology and we need to talk some things out."

Will almost said that he was tired of talking things out with Pete, but he kept that to himself. "Peter, anything you have to say to me, especially about this, you can say in front of Orli."

"No, I can't, Will. Please?"

"Fine," Will sighed, relenting. "But, please, stop insulting me, okay? Every time you take a cheap shot it makes me question our friendship."

"Will!" Peter sounded so shocked, it actually startled Will. "That's the one thing you're not supposed to ever question. Remember? We always said that no matter what happened or who came into our lives, we were going to love each other the best and the most."

Will pressed his lips together and rubbed his eyes, suddenly tired. Of course he remembered that. He'd even told Kevin that when they'd started getting serious, forcing him to accept that Peter would come first. But that was when he'd assumed that no one could ever make him love them more than Peter. That had completely changed now and it made him sad that his friend wouldn't accept it. He knew he'd already told Peter that couldn't be true anymore, but he didn't want to rehash that on the phone.

"Remember?" Peter repeated when Will didn't say anything.

"I remember," Will finally answered. "But, I need to go. I'll see you when I get back, all right?"

When Will closed his cell phone, he immediately went over to Orlando and hugged him tight. Being with him was the only thing that mattered right now.
porter_inc: (first xmas)
If I was any more excited, things would be bursting all over the place! This is going to be the best Christmas ever and I'm almost ready to start counting down the hours. Since Orli and I agreed to spend Christmas with Mom, I'm assuming we'll be doing Christmas Eve here, too (Baby?). If we do, we'll have the house to ourselves since Mom's spending it with her *choke* boyfriend and not coming back 'til Christmas morning. Jeez.

I'm back to my good old male self again, but it was fun to be a woman for a day. The whole sex thing was pretty great, but it still didn't feel as good as when I'm with Master Bloom.

BTW, I've had this Mastercard ad thing going through my head all day:

Silk dress shirt....$100
Dress pants....$80
Checking between my legs to make sure the goods are there....Priceless

I blame too much brandy in my eggnog! Or maybe too much jingle in my bells.

Deck them halls and fa that la, babies, Santa's coming to town!

*happy dance*
porter_inc: (cappucino)
[locked to Orlando]

Kevin's clean.

I contacted the detective who'd interviewed me after the shooting and told him my concerns about the attack. He said that he would contact the doctors who tested Kevin when he was taken to prison and try to let me know if I have anything to be worried about. We can't let anyone know that they told him, but he said he wanted to ease my mind. I guess that means that we just have to get tested to be sure and then... Well, you know. :-)


I called the woman claiming to be my sister. What convinced me to do it was an old letter Mom found among Dad's papers where some woman told him about her children missing their daddy. Mom told me that he'd received the letter about two years after she and Dad had gotten married but had told her that the woman was the widow of an old friend. She never questioned it until I showed her the letter I received and the woman said who her mother was. It was the same lady who'd sent my dad that letter all those years ago. It's not definitive proof, by any means, but it's a hell of a coincidence.

Anyway, I called the woman (Evelyn Harper, 34 of Los Angeles) and told her I'd be willing to take a DNA test. She told me how her mother had passed away in March of this year and it was after her death that she found out who her and her brother's real father was. She was in the process of trying to find him when she started seeing things about me in the papers and one article did a background feature and mentioned my parents. She said we have the same eyes and that's what made her write me. Now, that's weird, because I was always told I have my Uncle John's eyes and he was Mom's brother. I guess Dad had some hidden blue-eyed gene or something. I would laugh so hard if he had a gay brother, too, and that's why he was so afraid for me to turn out queer. Anyway, I should stop rambling.

Everything's still sort of a jumbled mess in my head right now, but here's what I know:

Cynthia Harper met my dad in 1968 when he was stationed at Fort Bliss. They never married and Dad refused to let their children have his name. They had a son together, Tobias Charles Harper, who was born on September 17, 1969. Evelyn Rose Harper was born on May 20, 1972. Charles, as he prefers to be called, lives in Austin, Texas, works for a bank(!) and is married with three children - two boys, ages 6 and 2, and one girl, age 4. Charles wants nothing to do with the search or with me and, apparently, he looks very much like Dad. Evelyn lives in L.A., works as a casting director, is single with no children.

The thing that I can't get over is the fact that Evie was just shy of seven months old and Charles was 3 when Dad married Mom. How could he do that? Even if he didn't know about her, he knew damn well he had a son. And how could he ignore the letter he received, knowing he had, by that time, a two year-old daughter and a five year-old son who needed their father? I suppose I've already decided that she's telling the truth, but the test will let us know for sure. Mom said that no matter what the results are, she still wants to get to know this woman, and if Charles changes his mind, him too. She wasn't angry with me or Cynthia (Evie's mom) or Evelyn or Charles. She's not upset that Dad had another family he didn't tell her about, because she'd always had her suspicions. She's angry with Dad for abandoning his children.

I love my mother so much.

And I just might have an older brother and sister.
porter_inc: (cappucino)
My best friend is 34 today. Instead of the fruit of the month club idea I'd had for a present, I ended up giving him a monogrammed briefcase. He'd mentioning needing a new one a while back. I figure it's personal but not personal. I was going to take him out for dinner, but he's got plans with the guy he's been seeing. He hasn't let me meet him yet but apparently they're getting serious and Pete really likes him. I'm glad. And relieved. Mom said that she's met the guy, but it was an accident. She ran into the two of them at the market. He's got dark hair and blue eyes and Mom seems to think that means Pete's dating someone who looks like me. Bless her, but I'm sure she's overstating it.

I'm just happy that he's moving on instead of making me feel guilty for not loving him that way anymore. I didn't mean to hurt him. I just fell in love with someone who's filled my heart completely.

Less than two weeks until Christmas! I've given out some presents already, but I have to get the others delivered before it's too late. I love this time of year. I may even go to midnight mass on Christmas Eve. I wonder if Orli would want to go with me. We could come home and open presents afterwards.

I'm really, really, really happy.

That is all.


porter_inc: (Default)

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