Zeus. Snuggled on top
Of my hockey gloves. Snoring
The happiest guy.

My little old man
How old are you, anyway?
Sleeping on my shoes.

To Tell the Truth
I don't consider myself a goody-two-shoes exactly. No, it's more of a thing with me. That thing? Lying. I just can't do it. My cheeks instantly turn red and I stammer a bit, even on the smallest things. I'd never be a world-class poker player, I can't even lie about having done laundry. This is my issue, or rather, something I take seriously. Since I can't lie well anyway, I may as well embrace my unlying-ness and be happy about it. And I do.

That said, it stands to reason that one of my biggest pet peeves is people, especially friends who lie to me. Small lies, big lies, whatever it is, I must ask what the purpose is in lying to your friends. If I'm your friend, surely I can weather the truth and if I can't, then am I really worthy of your friendship anyway? Best to find out, don't you think?

Being gay and all its implications have given me that particular zen-like awareness. I didn't lose many friends in the coming out process but for those who I did lose, thinking of them still causes a sting in my heart. More like 'how did I not see who you really are -- a person who would shun someone they'd known for years because of something as insignificant to my character as realizing who I really am?' rather than 'ouch, I must not be worthy of their friendship because I'm gay.' Fuck that. I'm a good person, should you choose not to befriend me because I just happen to date women (well, one extremely good one, thank you very much), that's really your loss.

Since I was nineteen and started coming out to the masses, I've known this about people. That they're really not worth the effort if they decide to abandon a friendship for something silly or insignificant. Life is simply too short.

To that end, maybe I contradict myself because when I started writing this, the point was to voice objection to a new-ish friend of mine, a chronic liar. This 'friend' lies about all things, great and small, to all people, close friends included, and has for years. I hadn't been on the (confirmed) receiving end of this particular trait until recently but now I have and I'm pissed. Yet based on my own wisdom (see above) is it more appropriate for me to overlook the lies, to consider them one of those silly somethings that shouldn't kill a friendship?

Yet, I don't think I can overlook the lies. Just about anything else but not lying. What good am I as a person if my word means nothing?

Homage to Andrea's Sleep Haiku
Somehow, I always
Go to sleep with ease. Drifting
In peaceful slumber

Night after night, no
Matter what goes on 'round me.
I sleep a deep sleep

Contrast: Andrea
One small sip of coke: one long
Night for her. I sleep

Sorry bout the sleep
My love. That has got to suck.
At least I can snore.

Poang Burnout
I worked the last 5 days at the House of Poangs. 4 of those days were in my regular department, returns, where the only thing for certain is that every customer who comes my way brings with them some sort of issue. Most of the time they're understanding about the issue, I deal with them in the fastest, most polite manner possible (though I admit to no longer making eye contact) and get them on their way.

But sometimes, they have a different set of expecatations about what I can do for them. They think that somehow, in a 300,000+ square foot store, we can keep spare copies of the exact product they need right at our tiny counters, counters that are barely big enough to hold the boxes of christmas decorations that are still, sadly, coming back in droves, let alone wardrobes. So, while we politely offer these folks a refund and free admission to the rest of the store, where they can then pick out a new, updated version of what they want, that is not enough.

Yesterday, a young woman (younger than me, I think that's why this bugs me so) brought back a defective thing and got quite irate that we couldn't just snap our fingers and have a replacement appear. She went on to passive-aggressively verbally assault me, saying that *she* thinks you'd (meaning me) want to give 'superior customer service,' to go 'above and beyond,' implying that I'd run into the bowels of the store for her, despite the fact that really, I had no idea where the thing is, that she would know better since she already found one there, albeit a broken one.

I let it go on for a minute, tried to explain that within the house of poangs system, the best we could do was quickly issue a refund. That wasn't enough. Finally, in another oscar moment, I welled up some fake tears and said, 'well, I guess I suck.' She said it wasn't personal but I said, in a very quiet voice 'well, the way you said it made it seem that way.'

And the oscar goes to...me. And my stinkin Poang.