Saturday, Aug. 02, 2003 - 11:36 a.m.
Surrounded

In what I hope will become an annual tradition, the boys are back in town. If you read me back then, you’ll recall that my luscious, big-hearted friend J.C. brought a couple of his buddies to town last year for Pride weekend. Minus Enrique, who moved away a week before my assault, they’re all here again this weekend: J.C., Truman, and Rahim. Plus their friend Becca, a fun Asian dyke. My guests are all sprawled out in front of me here in the living room, sleeping away.

J.C. and Becca are on the floor. J.C.’s wearing a tight baby blue t-shirt, and he’s covered up only by a big yellow towel. I can see the band of his red boxers. Rahim and Truman are on the fold-out couch, separately covered in bed sheets.

And yours truly is happier than a pig in shit. Commenting on my recent troubles, Rahim said last night “I’m glad we’re here sweetie: it’s good for you to be surrounded by friends who love you.”

Oh yeah.

So here we all are, together again a year later. It makes me ponder how much has changed in my life, and how much is still the same. I’m certainly a lot less hung up on the whole aging thing or fucked up about self esteem, stuff which preoccupied me quite a bit last year at this time. There’s nothing like attempted murder to make you get over the silliest parts of yourself. (However temporarily.)

At the same time, other silly beautiful parts of me seem so much more important and life-giving. The pure enjoyment of friends, often manifesting as fond hilarity. Like cracking J.C. up. As they were getting ready to go out clubbing late last night, I was standing in the middle of the living room chatting with Rahim and J.C. J.C.—wearing only skimpy nylon shorts—pressed himself up against me from behind, motioning Rahim to complete the equation: “Sandwich!” J.C. sang, “It’s a sandwich!”

Gleeful, I played the squished middle part in this impromptu cavort, felt J.C.’s hard body bring up the rear, his soft ample bulge pressed against my butt, while tall, lanky Rahim danced and fondled his way up against my front. I don’t know what, exactly, J.C. and Rahim were doing overtop of me but somehow J.C. accidentally poked Rahim in the eye. Rahim cried out, but wasn’t really hurt. “My eye’s burning,” he said, covering it with his hand and giggling at the same time. The sandwich disassembled.

“Your eye?” I said, gleaming at them both. “Just imagine how my ass feels right about now!”

I thought they were going to pee their pants.

And oh my fucking god, Truman sure hasn’t failed any over the past year! What a babe. He’s much less shy now, too, prancing around shirtless for over an hour last night after he got out of the shower. There’s a quiet ease between us as we talk, as we grin at each other; he’s staying in town an extra week after everyone else goes home and I’ve oh-so-hospitably offered him a place to stay for the duration. Wasn’t that nice of me? (smirk)

Because Diego’s out on bail, I asked my houseguests to please phone me before returning to the apartment late at night. I anticipate that if I was woken up by the sound of someone entering, it might freak me out. Again, it’s an easy thing to do to get me over what will hopefully be a short-term hurdle.

I also learned Thursday that Diego resides six minutes away from where I work. This does little to comfort me. I could ask the authorities to have his bail order amended so that he can’t go near my place of work, but in order to do that it would have to be divulged exactly where I work so I prefer not to. Instead, I’ve spoken to my boss about it and so she's aware of my concerns. If I don’t show up one morning, she and the HR manager have a list of numbers to call, starting with Joey and ending with the police as a last resort. This is probably overkill, but again, it’s just an added contingency that makes me feel better. My HR manager also suggested I get a home security system installed, and that too is an easy thing to do that will probably help with my night-time anxiety.

In the meantime, I have a wondrous home security system in place this weekend, a bevy of affectionate, sexy young men (and their feisty lesbian friend Becca) to make me laugh and forget and remember and breathe and be.