December 8th, 1980: “One Night”
The man I would write an Economic Theory paper on in grad school, 23 years later, was shot dead. Proof he was smarter than most and that this loss was utterly a waste? “Imagine there’s no heaven, it’s easy if you try. No hell below us, above us only sky. Imagine all the people, living for today. Imagine there’s no countries, it isn’t hard to do. Nothing to kill or die for, and no religion too. Imagine all the people, living life in peace.” If we all lived in John Lennon’s world, without religion, without things to segregate us from others, we would have nothing to fight over.
December 8th, 2006: “That Night”
That night there was a blogger Happy Hour – the last Blogger Happy Hour I would ever attend. The theatrics, the drama, the immaturity, the crap. It got old, fast.
That night I set Sixes&Sevens up to meet another blogger she fancied. She promptly gave him several more reasons to hate D.C.
That night I met a new friend through Sixes&Sevens who I then saw four more times over the next year – bachelorette party, wedding and two stopovers in Texas on my trek cross country and back, this summer. Despite her being happily married to a wonderful man, Ninja still refers to her as “his cutie,” and denounces her pregnancy by saying, “That should be MY baby.” You may have had a chance if you weren’t wearing such a gay turtleneck and if G-man wasn’t such a fun World of Warcraft playing mo-fo!
(That night was the birth of the gay turtleneck, by the way.)
That night I broke up with (rhymes with “fur lock,” nod to I66, because I can’t even say the fake blog name) for like the 130th time. This particular breakup parade was spurred by a record-breaking, even for him, 18 consecutive phone calls (no lie.) Because my phone was in my coat pocket, he had the nerve to declare me, over voicemail, me!, a “shitty girlfriend.”
December 8, 2007: “The Other Night”
The other night was thankfully much more peaceful than December 8th of last year. I went to a tree trimming party with 25 gay men. I was the only female there, but I did bring my own heterosexual male companion.
The other night was the first time said “male companion” and I made it out in public, in months.
The other night, we didn’t stay out in public for very long, scrambling back across town to my apartment where we promptly ripped each other’s clothes off.
The other night was one of those nights where I couldn’t stop. I never wanted it to end. It was perfect. It was the best I’ve had. A surprising first for us, in one particular capacity. Could not have been better…truly.
The other night I left my sliding glass door open and it was cold outside. The wind blew through the living room, around the corner, and into the bedroom where I slept while he watched, keeping me incredibly warm in his arms.
The other night was one of those kind of nights where I didn’t mind walking the dogs at 5 a.m., in the pouring rain.
The other night I was more comfortable in my own bed and in my own skin and in my own mind than I have ever been.