[Journal Menu]

[Home Page]

[Oakland Cam]



[100 Books]

[Other Sites]



Under Construction

San Francisco Journalcon photos
San Francisco Gay Pride parade

December 31st, 2002

When They Arrive
New Year's Eve, home before 4:00, a day at the office doing things I've done a thousand times, except today, the second day back on the job, more slowly and without enthusiasm. The pace will pick up, I will pick up, but I wonder about the enthusiasm, I wonder what's coming. Then I think "fuck it!, these moods pass", just let it pass and move along. The late sun is shining a cold pale yellow light across the building outside my window, I'm home with a hunker down inside holiday coming and I should, I don't know, go to bed and sleep. Yes. That's the number: Go to bed and sleep. Examine the navel tomorrow after breakfast.

"So what have we to say today, navel?"

I dunno. Have we made our resolutions?

Not yet. Tomorrow is the day for resolutions. I'm the expert at resolutions, the exact same resolutions identical in every way, year after year.

And New Year's Eve? Are we celebrating New Year's Eve?

From bed maybe. MRW talked about a party he was attending over here in Oakland, but I haven't heard another word and my head feels like cement. Not a day to go out and celebrate, what with the alcohol and the terrorists and the general populace. Don't want to run into no general populace with a head like mine, you understand, don't want to be out on no street and expose myself to an opportunity to shoot pictures. Not when I can sit here and whine.

Come on, things are better than that.

They are, actually. The incontinence went very well this second day at the office, a big leap forward, come to think of it. I was up and down and walking around and still, no particular issues. I bought three big packages of Pampers new baby diapers before going in to have the catheter removed four weeks back and I went through that first package (4 dozen in each) lickety drip. Then things got better. I'm still on the second package and if things keep going, I may not need to make a diaper run for, well, months. This is good. (I know, I know, of little interest except to those with a prostate fetish or a fondness for amateur urinalysis.) This is very good. I will undoubtedly suffer a relapse, tonight probably, something icky and unpleasant, but what the hell, progress.

That sounds better. Better is better.

Then again I've had this dizzy thing all day. Vertigo of some kind. I don't feel as if I'm going to fall, but the back of my head is tingly and sensitive and the world shifts on its axis without, oddly, losing the horizon. Something I'm going to have looked at, probably Thursday if it continues. Am I worried? Somehow not, but maybe I should. This has been going on for months, since well before the operation, and I've talked with my doctor. Something about the inner ear, you can tell which one because you can feel it when you turn your head quickly in its direction. Turn your head to the right, turn your head to the left. The motion that makes you dizzy pinpoints the ear, left or right. Except now there's no effect, right or left, I'm just dizzy. The prostate makes you sensitive to every little thing, you know, a cold potentially becomes pneumonia and vertigo becomes, well, who knows? I'm just a guy who does computers.

Do we need violin music, a handkerchief?

No, it's weird, but I'm not overly concerned. I'm generally feeling good about things this last day of 2002. Another year arriving tomorrow and I'm thinking I'm still stuck in my rut, but another part of me knows that's been changing for some time. I have no idea what's coming, but something is coming, on its own terms and in its own schedule. They always have. I hope they always will. It's just I'm generally too blind to notice when they arrive.


The photograph was taken at the San Francisco Gay Pride parade.