Two Weeks in America
True to my word I am a bad diarist. Nobody reads this blog and I loose enthusiasm. But alas I remember, this blog is for me, not for the world. And secondly, I am wide awake close to one in the morning after downing three diet cokes at the 60th birthday party of a cousin….so what the hell.
My two weeks in the US have been very interesting and have gone by way to quickly.
First I went to Chicago for work and pleasure. I work of the Obama campaign (for free) and was there for some bits and pieces. I then got to go to Boystown, which was just fab and I instantly regretted not spending more time in Chicago, which I believe must be the most beautiful city in the US. The architecture is amazing and the location on the late (FYI – the great lakes are actually inland seas, so they are effing huge) makes the city very unique. I love it. Note to self: live in Chicago for a year or two.
I then went to DC for more work. While there I attended an absurdly expensive fundraiser for Obama. I considered the irony of A: working for the guy for free and then B: donating thousands of dollars for the campaign. Thank you sir, may I have another. If I was straight, this is where I would make a remark about taking it up the backside, of course, I am not straight and I have been known to enjoy taking it up the backside, so I won’t make that comment, which really bugs me.
Anyway, I got to have dinner with some friends in SE DC, on Capitol Hill in the Eastern Market area – loved it over there. I am usually confined to DuPont so it was nice to get away. I was also stunned that the couple I was with felt comfortable enough to hold hands. Sorry, but I don’t consider the US a gay friendly country (this is compared to Europe, mind you, not Iran). I am probably being stupid about this, but then again one of the reasons I live in the UK is that my partner is British and he has no right to go to America based on our relationship unlike in Europe where I could stay if I needed to (but I have my own visa anyway) based on our relationship. So I have to re-think what I think about the US. Can America live up to the potential of the American dream, or is it dying a slow death. Bush’s America is pretty devoid of hope these days. I think this is why Obama inspires so much excitement especially amongst the young (fucking hell, the neighbours bloody dog is barking again). I think they want to be proud in their country, which can be hard to do right now. At least for those of us who are not raging evangelical nutters, who think that invading other countries on a whim to bring democracy and forcing religion down peoples throats is acceptable. But I digress.
The trip took a sad turn when my paternal grandmother passed away. Interestingly, my first thought was, “well, that is one more person I don’t have to dissapoint with being gay”. The inner circle – mom, dad, sisters and brother-in-law/boyfriend all know. That is really all the matters, the rest of the family. Well, I am happy to keep it to myself so my parents don’t need to deal with the fall out. Well, on the one hand, I want them to deal with the fall out. I want them to say, this is our son and we love him and go jump in a lake. But I also know they are 65 and god knows they’ve been good in coming around.
I actually recently thought that my dad did not accept the issue and would not let D the Twirlie come and visit. But apparently, I was wrong. After the funeral, we were driving back to our summer house while my lil sis and mom went back to the (what?) main house (?) (this sounds all rather colonial), the connecticut house I suppose will do. Anyway, I brought the issue up and said I was glad they were so proud of me, but sorry to disappoint in the raw heterosexual category and all…dad as like, whoa, I accept you and I love you and D can come and visit…did we not talk about this a year ago he asks? I guess we did, but I supposed we ‘talked’ about it in a straight guy kinda way last summer, when he asked about my ‘friend’ D. Well, anyway, that is all cleared up now I guess, which is good. We have firmly established that D will be welcome for the end of summer visit in late August/early September. Tickets will be booked. Of course, I still can’t shake the inner guilt I feel about my sexuality. And the idea that I just might burn in hell. Oh, those nuns did a real good job on me. Nothing like being a Catholic to engender GUILT. Gotta love it.
I had a coming out while I was here. Probably the funniest coming out to date. I told the older sister and brother in law. Now, I knew they would be cool about it. They have a lot of gay friends. My sis kept dropping hints that she knew, but I never knew how to bring it up. So the morning of the grandmother’s burial, (sis and bro in law, flew in from Michigan – yes, they have abandoned their new england roots to live in Michigan, ugh. Work related. No offense Michiciganers, but well, it just ain’t new england. I suppose the feeling might be mutual). Anyway, we pitch up at the funeral for the last good bye, which all seems a bit drawn out. We then pile into my car (lil sis and big sis in the backseat, bro in law in front passenger seat, me driving) and are waiting to start the funeral procession to the church (the big catholic church, oh the guilt). So, we are chatting away. Apparently it took some time to get granny into the hearse. I decide to just tell, them. I role up the windows, comically leaving the sun roof open. Turn around to face big sis and say, “well, I have some news. I am gay and I live with a man in London and we share the same bed so he ain’t no average room-mate” to which big sis responds “high five” and put her palm up. We then move on to discuss how my gayness has been the subject of discussion between big sis and bro in law for the last decade. WTF. I mean, I so don’t understand. How come everyone knew I was gay before I did?! So not fair.
Well, I finally got to the holiday portion of the trip, which was plagued with so-so weather. I am missing D terribly, but I have eased his and my pain with a subscription to Sean Cody for the month. This was fun for about four days, but now I think the novelty has worn off. But it has been fun, where does he find those men? I have enjoyed my time on the beach and I read Ombama’s “Dreams from my Father” which was amazing. I have never thought so much about race in America, and the book really struck a number of emotions for me, and may resounded with the idea of belonging and spoke to my own stuggles with sexuality. Well, I head back to London tomorrow, to my exile. I can’t wait. I miss home. London home that is. And my dogs and especially my twirlie. So pathetic. but I can’t wait.
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