Another Quick Update

 Quick update: Looks as if my very first paid article is going to be published in the next issue of Out in Jersey magazine. Although I have yet to see the final edit, I'm hoping for the best. I did send them a bit more than they asked for, by 600 words, so it'll probable me mostly edited for brevity. I've never had a professional editor reviewing my work before so I'm nervous to see what she's done. Nervous and excited, it's going to be a big learning process and I'm eager for the experience. 
One good sign, the publisher said some kind words about my piece so I'm happy. 

Work has been great, making good money, but my roommate hasn't so, I'm struggling through these months, sweating to make sure I have the rent together. That's not ideal. I'm just waiting to get back to work at Lucy, especially next month, those extra days of work each week will seriously help reduce my anxiety.  

Two plans for summer, though; Pay down my credit cards and saving extra money for another European trip. 

Lucky Rabbit!

Falling is not fun. Actually, not falling is not fun. Let me explain. Yesterday started off as every Sunday has for the last two years or so, with my usual morning routine. Up early, social media, breakfast, feed the cat, prepare for the day of work ahead. I had just finished showering and I decided to clean one of the tiled walls whilst in there, it's a habit I picked up years ago. It's an easier way to clean the shower stall, scrub a different wall every time you're in there and when you don't have to do the entire thing every week, which I always found to be one of the harder chores. As I was putting back the cleaner and turned to rinse myself off one last time, my foot slipped and I began falling backwards through the shower curtain. It literally flashed into my head the scene of me hitting the sink counter and really hurting myself, it was strange seeing it so vividly. I instinctively reached out and grabbed the bar that our previous tenants had, thankfully, installed and caught myself by, I guess with the adrenaline and my reflexes, I yanked myself back so forcefully that I smashed my forehead and nose straight into the tiles. I immediately knew I had hurt myself pretty good, I could feel the welt swelling on my forehead right away. And the blood that began gushing from the cut across the bridge of my nose that I could see dripping down and into the drain told me that my nose wasn't in that great of shape, either. I quickly blew my nose and confirmed that I had blood on the inside, too. The pain of smashing my face was insistent, as you can imagine. I rinsed off, shut everything off and started to dry myself off, trying not to get too much blood all over my towel. Band-Aid, usual after-shower routine and I had to get ready for work. Of course, I had to post a quick social media update because I am 'that person'. 

To add to my misery, on the way to work the Jitney I was on was stopped at Texas Ave. for much longer than usual. From where I was sitting, I couldn't tell if there was an accident or just weekend traffic going across the city. I pulled out my ear bud and heard the driver talking to another one about a gas issue. After a little more fussing around, the driver announced that he was, indeed, out of gas and we'd all have to take the next bus coming up behind him. We squeezed into that bus and off we went down Pacific Ave. until I finally got off at my stop and walked to the Distillery and was a half-hour late for work. 

Can't verify the Year of the Rabbit is a lucky one, since my very first day of the new lunar calendar was so... eventful. 

Catching Up

 The war continues to rage in Ukraine, the images coming back of bombed out homes and maternity hospitals is sickening. I have shed a few tears over it. Something needs to happen to stop this madness. 

My friend Khoi died over the weekend, initially under mysterious circumstances but it was later revealed, by the local west coast news media, that it was an overdose. It surprised me, I had no clue he did drugs. Although I can't imagine he would have done anything it knowing it was laced with fentanyl but we weren't that close so I'm not sure what he was into. It's very sad, he was someone I really liked and always made me smile. 

Went to a meeting last night concerning plans for some sort of Pride event in Atlantic City this coming June. I have my reservations, it's awfully late to plan something like this, it should have been in the works last year, and heavily promoted for months now. I'm still on the fence about how much weight to throw behind it. I think I'll wait until the emails consolidating all the ideas discussed at the meeting are sent out and make my decision then. I'm torn between my desire to make this a great event for Atlantic City and my experience as to how hard it is to producing events like this. It won't be easy to make this even moderately successful. 
And then there's the distrust I have for City Hall. They've made many strides in the LGBTQ+ direction but I have my suspicions. I've lived here far too long not to have suspicions. 

Back to work this weekend, it's unofficially St. Patrick's Day weekend so it might be busy. Although we're not really an Irish bar but the VUE wasn't an Irish bar and we were always slammed during this weekend. 
After the meeting last night, several people remarked about how they heard how busy we've been at Little Water, it was good to hear. I want the Distillery to be well known in the city, and a destination place, even if it's not on the main drags of the Boardwalk or the Orange Loop. I'm all in with Mark and Guy and I want them to be successful.
As I've always said, when the house makes money, I make money! 

Watched and finished The Andy Warhol Diaries on Netflix and was obsessed with it. Lots of footage that I've never seen before of Andy in his private life, all very interesting. I'm definitely going to rewatch the series at some point. 

An Entry, Mundane.

War is still raging in Ukraine, I fear the West's sanctions and condemnations have only stiffened Putin's resolve and have given him now way out. Although, this entire exercise was sheer madness from the very beginning. There was no reason to invade Ukraine to begin with and now that he's done so, I fear for the Ukrainian people that Putin is committed to see it done to it's bitter and bloody end. 

I finally visited Sally, my 'step-mother' (although I don't really think of her that way), after her hip-replacement surgery. She's in great spirits and seems to be healing nicely. She's currently on oxygen and she had some post-op blistering on her right foot but she can walk around for short bursts without a cane and I was happy to see her recovering so quickly. I may take her reclining chair that she's using right now to sleep in, she can't sleep in the bed yet. Got to see my father as well, he's doing well. Everytime I go he offers me something odd, this time it was a CD player. I declined. But as he often jokes, I'm going to have to go through all of their stuff anyway when they croak (his words). And I invariably look around after he says that and shudder at the thought of sorting through their collection of... things.
As Scarlett O'Hara says, 'I'll think about it tomorrow.'

I am concerned, though, about an incident they both told me about separately. Evidently, some young kids have been harassing them, banging on the house, throwing their basketball on their roof, making mischief. In one incident, the police were called. My father is hot headed, even now in his 80's, and although he's spry he's not a young man. I may have to talk to some AC cop friends to keep an eye on their house. 

The weather has been rollercoasting, each day is completely different, sometimes very warm, sometimes bitterly cold. As much as I love my winter, I wish Mother Nature would make up her mind and stick to one season. Right now it's in the twenties, in two days it will be in the seventies. That's ridiculous. 

I'm reading an article in The New Yorker about an author who's genre is autofiction, a mix of autobiography and fiction. I remember about a decade or so ago that more than a few authors were taken to task for 'embellishing' their autobiographical novels. The truth will out, so to speak. This new-to-me genre is intriguing to me, since I naturally embellish many stories I tell about my past. I'm gay. And a former drag queen. And a bartender. It's my nature. I'm thinking that it's nice cheat to writing that book I've always contemplated but have yet to do. This way, I can say it's autofiction and make half of it up! Win/Win. 

Today finds me hitting the gym again (third time this week!) and taking care of Charity's cats. I also HAVE to go to the bank so I can pay the rent/bills. I can not wait to find a second job, although the weekends have been very good at the Distillery, one bad Saturday could doom me. 

Miss Patti sent over a packet of photos from the early nineties, mostly involving my drag shows, specifically Mortimer's Cafe. That was a time in my life where I never was seen out of drag, especially in the clubs. I've posted a few of them on Facebook and Instagram. The memory lane they took me on was nice to travel down. 

A Facebook Emotional Landmine

My Facebook post from one year ago, wasn't ready to ugly cry this morning: I wanted to thank all of you for your kind words and support. Losing my little buddy has been really hard and I don't think I could have handled it without the messages, comments, cards, and yes, the booze, that came pouring in. I am blessed with the most beautiful gift any human could have, friendship. And I love all of you so deeply.

My little guy was something special. Only a handful of you actually met him in person but, as my sister said, 'he was one of the most amazing cats ever'!

I want to give you one more Marmalade story, just because:

I was up early this morning and had breakfast and was thinking about going to the gym. But I was still a little hungover from the event last night. I decided to curl up in bed again, my empty bed, and I dozed off right away.

I started dreaming. I was on the bed, it was bright and sunny, the light was streaming in the windows to my bedroom and I was feeling the warmth in the room. Marmalade was next to me and I was talking to him and petting him, his fur was so soft and he was purring, looking at me like he always did when we snuggled. His eyes half shut the way they did when he was really content. But then I said, Wait... you died. You can't be here.

And with that, he disappeared.

Although it was only a dream, it was nice to be able to spend one more moment with him. To feel his fur, his warmth, his purring.

If any cat was going to haunt my dreams, it was going to be Marmalade!

Thank you all again for compassion and your love. It helps more than you know.

The Present World And My Possible Future

The war in Ukraine is still raging on, the videos and photos coming out of the country are heartbreaking. I fear it's going to get much, much worse before anything changes. What shocks me are all the different reports that the Ukrainian people seem to have been taken by surprise. Not many of them have prepared for an invasion, even with hundreds of thousands of Russian soldiers massed at their borders. I suppose I can understand, to a point, we haven't had a European conflict in many decades, and the thought of one seemed almost ludacris. The very fact that Putin has even considered doing this almost unfathomable. And yet, knowing that they were right on the border and weren't leaving would have caused me grave concern. I would have, at the very least, stockpiled food and maybe found a way to get a weapon for protection. 
I don't know. I can hardly imagine something like that happening. Living here in the United States has afforded me a very different outlook on things. Aside from 9/11, and the constant mass shootings all over the country, it's pretty stable here. I've never felt the fear of invasion and I don't know how I would react. 
Probably like those Ukrainians who couldn't conceive of something this terrible happening. 

Back to my back pain; it's not as bad but I am still having a hard time going from sitting to standing. The sitting position seems to lock up my muscles and nerves and when I go to stand, it takes a few minutes to walk without pain. I probably need surgery, I'm sure it's something fixable but that isn't going to happen anytime soon. It hasn't stopped me from going to the gym. My desire to look better is stronger than the pain in my lower back. I may take it easy today, I have to work tonight and being on my feet for so long doesn't do any good, either. 

I keep getting casting notices for productions in NYC and I am itching to go up and act again, but the covid-19 protocols would make it financially improbable for me to do it. The CDC has just issued new guidelines today about masking and such, I'm hoping that, by the time The Gilded Age resumes production, most of the restrictions will be lifted and I can just shoot up to film like I did for Boardwalk Empire and The Knick. My little stint in drag last October made me realize how much I miss performing.

I've never talked about this publicly before but, I'm having a hard time reading. The best way I can explain it is that I've developed a form of dyslexia, words jumble, letters go missing, it's damned frustrating. I don't know what to do about it, or even if it's fixable. I have been reading books since I was a small child, reading was what got me through a very troubled childhood of growing up gay and the painful divorce of my parents. I escaped into the worlds of science fiction and fantasy and now this simple but important pleasure is being robbed of me. I can read, but only for very short bursts. I have so many books waiting for me but they take forever to get through and I'm not retaining the info as well since I can only read small bits at a time. I'll have to research it although that requires... reading! 
And considering I've started practice writing again to maybe, finally, hopefully, write a book, this is going to be a very difficult process. 

I guess it's time to get something done.   

War Is Stupid

 What everyone knew and what was stupidly but seemingly inevitable, Russian 'President' Vladimir Putin has invaded Ukraine overnight and they are now at war. Predictably, the stock markets are plunging, non-military targets are getting hit, people are dying over there, hemming, hawing, and the far-Republican right is... cheering Russia on. Some of the stranger justifications; Russia only has two genders. The Russian army doesn't have sensitivity training. The gays! I'm not sure how they take these leaps from culture wars to actual geo-political warfare where people are dying because some old dude is sad the U.S.S.R. broke into smaller bits but the GOP/far right lost their minds a while ago so justifications are unnecessary and futile. 
My fear, although I may be sounding a bit like Chicken Little, is that this small regional war will somehow morph into the first global conflict of the new millennia. China, thankfully, seems to want to ignore what's going on, and our NATO allies are all aligned, it seems the only people happy this is happening is Putin, Fox News and the red half of the United States. 
In hindsight, assigning red to the political right was prescient. 

I managed to injure my back yesterday at the gym, and I knew right away that I shouldn't do the extra weight but I was feeling my oats and did it anyway. I managed to finish my workout but the pain is noticeable. I'm not completely disabled but don't ask me to pick anything up that I might drop on the floor. It'll either take a while or it'll just have to stay there. 
And yes, I'm still going to the gym today. Tomorrow is a wash-out for the most part so this is my only clear window the get another workout in. I'll rest tomorrow and hopefully be much better by Saturday for an early morning workout before work. Sadly, my little injury forced me to miss that little taste of spring we had yesterday, I pretty much stayed in bed chewing Advil. Meh, summer and the sweltering heat will be here soon enough. 

Joe cleaned the flat yesterday, so, of course, the landlord decided to fix/replace the back screen door. It needed to be done, and the repairman was very polite and efficient, he even fretted about Oliver getting out and running away. Joe reassured him that Oliver knows he's royalty in this house and will never leave willingly! I'm actually happy with the new door, it's got a replaceable screen for summer and he adjusted the closing mechanism to make sure it shuts completely every single time, no more wind gusts blowing it open and bending it our of frame. 
On a side note, I'm do happy the Joe is learning to use the Alexa dot in the kitchen. He's learned to play music and sometimes asks it questions. If you know Joe, you know what a big technological step this is for him. 

My cousin Dawn is in Florida visiting the parents, I had made tentative plans to join her but I'm too poor right now. I really need to find a little mid-week job, I miss having fun money. 

To whomever is reading my little blog, Thanks! and sorry for the drudgery. It'll get better, I promise. 

President's Day Weekend

Holiday weekends are fun, as long as you don't work in the industry. If all of you have off, all of us have to work that much harder!

The phenomenon of President's Day weekend began during my days at the Studio Six. The formerly sleepy little holiday began turning into a mid-winter party holiday that rivaled New Year's Eve and quickly became the better one, at least for nightclub staff. Where New Year's Eve is derisively known as 'amateur night', at least President's Day was full of your more regular club kids (meaning night club regulars, not the eighties definition) who knew how to handle their drugs and alcohol. Now it seems to have spilled over to day drinkers, at least as evidenced by this past weekend. Friday was not very busy but it gave us a chance to discuss plans for the following day, since we had ninety-six people on our reservations, a very high number for a place like the Distillery. That also meant that the walk-ins were going to be massive as well. 

Saturday didn't disappoint.

Right out of the gate, we were busy, with two large tour groups coming in and many other four-tops, around forty people sat in a matter of minutes. The tours give me a small window to breathe, since most of the people are there for the actual tour and I only have to make a handful of drinks right away, it's the end of the tour that I start getting slammed and once that happened, most of the rest of the day was a blur. Thankfully, my roommate (and ex) was there acting as my barback. I told everyone, he was there for me and me alone, I needed to know that all the other stuff was being done behind me so I can pump out the cocktails as quickly as possible. He kept the glasses clean, my bottles full, and general clean-up and it lowered my stress levels considerably. I don't think I could have done it without him there. Emily, our diva server and bartender in training, was also a godsend, she keeps a lid on things and everyone is a little afraid of her, which is (generally) good. Towards the end of the day, I did get to sit for a minute with some friends and chat, it was nice to take a little break right before we shut and started getting the bar ready for the next day. As you can see, I don't have much to say about the day as a whole, my total focus all day long was on making drinks, about two hundred and forty in all over the shift. On a side note, I giggled a little when our Little Water Distillery social media page shared all the people's Instagram photos of their drinks when they were there and I realized that I had made every single one of them. 

And they all looked perfect, if I do say so myself. It's nice to see the positive feedback, though, after such an intense but fun day. 
Sunday came and, although not as busy as the day before, it was far busier than most Sundays there. Without the extra staff on hand, and still a little exhausted from the day before, I was getting a little harried with having to clean glasses and do the set-ups, our drinks can get quite complicated so every little bit of help makes my job easier and more efficient. We strive to make sure each drink is handcrafted and fresh, no pre-made watered-down cocktails. I prefer it that way but it's unavoidably time consuming. Our regular guests know that going in, and we do remind everyone when we seat them, but the pressure is on me to make sure it's done as quickly as possible. Thankfully, all my decades of training at the Studio Six and elsewhere prepared me for high-volume bartending. We made it through and I was home before seven o'clock, which was a happy surprise.
And nothing makes the day fly by like being mad busy! 
I think I was dead asleep by eight thirty. 

All in all, it was a great weekend for the Distillery. The next big event is our fifth anniversary which, if it's anything like last year, will be a record breaking day!