Shredding Documents

No, I'm not talking about what's going on in DC these days, as it usually does in the closing days of all administrations.

I'm talking about how I spent a lot of my weekend.

Sometimes... a lot of times... I can be a real pack rat. It's easier to toss things on the kitchen table, or counter, or in a drawer, than to deal with it "right now." Not bills, of course. I gave that up when I got sober. Those get paid right away.

But other things I think I "might" be interested in sometime... well... later.

Such as fliers from various theater companies in New York. I get inundated with those. Somebody put my name on a mailing list years ago and now I'm the darling of every producing group from The Public Theater to the Roundabout to the Manhattan Theater Club. If I had subscriptions to all of those I'd never spend a night at home for 9 months of the year.

But rather than just tossing them, something inside me says "take a look at this later... you might be interested." and it winds up gathering dust on a counter top for anywhere from a week to several decades.

Because I had an extended holiday weekend due to my medical appointments yesterday, and because gas has gotten so prohibitively expensive, I decided to spend a couple of hours a day going through all the crap that's accumulated over the last 7 years I've lived where I am now and to toss anything that was generic in nature and to shred anything that had my name printed on it. Oh, and to shred any documents older than my heart surgery.

Things were going great on Saturday and Sunday but by Monday morning my old Xerox wastepaper-basket sized shredder was definitely starting to slow down. Eventually, it just stopped.

I can't complain. It has given me five years of decent service (including CD's, dvd's, credit cards plus up to 10 sheets of all kinds of paper at a time). But it's now time for it to make the trip out to the curb and for a newer, younger, prettier sturdier model to take over.

I'm torn between the Fellowes or the housebrand for Staples.

If anybody has any suggestions for a nice, cross-cut shredder (which can do plastic, too), please pipe up.

Thankyew.

Reaching Out

Ever since I got sober I've had more than my fair share of well-meaning friends who were "noodging" me towards dating. Oh, not during the 1st year of recovery, when such things are frowned upon (no distractions), but later on, in year 2, 3 & 4 (up to 9, where I am now). I've mostly ignored their good-natured comments, hoping that the surprise of a "non-dating gay man" would eventually lose it's cachet and they'd move on to greener pastures.

Alas, it was not to be. Several friends in particular (although not my Sponsor) have niggled and badgered and cajoled and generally made pains in the asses of themselves over the fact that I keep running away from golden opportunities to get laid and/or married.

These are mostly straight men who think gay men get laid all the time and they just can't understand why anyone would turn down getting laid when the opportunity presents itself since they're married and almost never get laid.

I've tried to explain to them that I'm in no big rush to repeat any of the mistakes of my past regarding boyfriends, and that I have certain, few, requirements regarding any potential fuck-buddy/husband material. First and foremost being, NO LAWYERS.

I've gotten better about all my other previous requirements. I no longer insist on the age thingie (the same age, or nearly so), economic thingie (okay, we can be about 20% apart in terms of income) or height thingie (I've given up on hoping to meet another 6'4" hunk like me -- JUST KIDDING).

Still, my friends have pushed. One has gone so far as to "set me up" not with a boyfriend or a date, but with a telephone conference with another gay man who went through something similar in his recovery, until HE found the boyfriend of his dreams, and they've lived happily ever after for the last 15 years. So I did spend a half hour on the phone with him yesterday afternoon, and practically the first words out of his mouth were, "there's NOTHING WRONG WITH YOU", which were very reassuring because I am starting to feel like some kind of a freak. He had a similar childhood and he talked about his trust issues and how they kept him on the sidelines for a long time, too. Mostly, though, we talked about how hard it is to restore trust in others and to "un-do" a lifetime of habits acquired in self-defense as children (shutting down, isolating, running away, unfinished projects which fulfill the prophesy of unworthiness). It was a very nice, very revealing conversation and we finished by me asking if it would be okay if I called him again sometime. He was very gracious and said yes.

I saw the friend who arranged this telephonic tete-a-tete this morning. I told him that I had spoken with his other friend yesterday afternoon. He wanted all the details. I told him they were none of his fucking business. I love seeing the looks on people's faces when I set boundaries with them for the first time. They go into shock.

I love my friends.

They're crazy as shit, but I love 'em.