I am not sure why but 23 is my favorite number. I mean,
why does anyone have a favorite number? I can understand having a favorite
color (lime green, scarlet, black, black and white) or smell (fresh-cut grass
on an English summer’s afternoon, Brute cologne, Obsession perfume) or song (I
Guess That’s Why They Call It The Blues by Elton John, Jeff Buckley’s version
of Hallelujah, Yellow by Coldplay) because there is something there, some
visceral element, but a number is just a number. My love of 23 probably stems from my love of
William Shakespeare - he was likely born on April 23 and he probably died on
April 23. Anyway, so, going into 2023 I had high hopes but in fact it turned
out to be a pretty crappy year.
Where to begin? How about my car, and the three things
that happened concerning it in a span of one week: Well, the first is kind of
positive: I paid it off, almost one year early. Yes, on one hand that is very
positive but, on the other, I managed that only because I am the Most Boring (and
Bored) Person in the World: the money that I would have spent on doing things
and going places, like people with lives do, was put towards the car loan.
Then, a day later, the battery died. Not a big deal, I
have AAA but still.
Then, three days later, I had an accident, my first
official car accident (by official I mean the first one my insurance company
heard about). I’m not going to go into deets, it is still too painful. I was
not physically harmed but it was still a major bummer.
And I have to do another “I See Dead People” section this
year.
Steve killed himself about a week before his 70th
birthday. If you ever attended any type of philanthropic event in Denver or did
any type of charity or volunteer work, chances are you met him. He was so giving
of his time. And he was the only man ever to utter the following to me: “I love
your ass”. After his death his Facebook page was overflowing with tributes. And
this one hurt a lot because I hoped that we might end up together - we had been
involved Biblically at some point; oh, and non-Biblically too – see here. And
the fact that it was suicide was so heartbreaking. He had over 1.4k friends on
Facebook, why didn’t he reach out to one of us? I am absolutely sure that there
is not one of those 1.4k friends, including me, who would not have dropped
whatever we were doing right then and there and gone to him if only he’d
reached out.
Franklin’s death was natural, but untimely; he was
younger than me, and much like Kim’s death, I did not find out about it until a
few years had passed. And, in fact, I only found out about it because of
Steve’s death. Because I had not been in contact with Steve for a while and it
ended on a sour note (I sent him a short and bitter text – “I hate Facebook” after
he had posted a picture of him and his girlfriend celebrating their one-year
anniversary. In Las Vegas. At a restaurant less than two miles away from me) I decided
to re-connect with some people I’d not heard from in a while and that was when
I found out about Franklin. We probably hung out only a few times but oh he was
such a character, the life of the party. And another one with over 1k friends
and a Facebook page overflowing with tributes.
But I think it might be time to face the fact that this “I
See Dead People” section might become a regular part of this post, because of
my advanced age. Speaking of which, there was a period shortly after Christmas when
I had pain in my left arm and jaw. It scared me so much that on my next trip to
the dollar store I picked up some aspirin!
And, in other health news, it finally happened: I got the
‘rona. Three years and 10 months (or 1,405 days) after it first appeared in
America, I got covid. I guess because I’ve gotten the vaccinations, I had an
extremely mild case. Just like a minor cold, really and, except for the vomiting
up blood part, it really wasn’t that bad.
.
And stuff around the apartment has just started falling apart,
like my bed and my couch. And there seems to be an excessive amount of other
household chores that need doing that I am not physically capable of doing and
it makes me miss having male friends who I could call on to help. And the fact
that housework and errands never fucking end. You get two things scratched off
your To Do list and another five are added. How do people with families and
more pets and bigger homes and real lives cope? It is just me, Sammy, a
one-bedroom apartment and a non-existent social life and it is overwhelming.
For once I do feel for people with lives. You must be exhausted all the time.
And the Prettiest Boy in the World moved. I mean, he was
not close anyway, but this move was pretty dramatic and now he might as well
live in, oh, I don’t know, Venice, let’s say, for how far out of reach he is
now.
But 2023 was not all doom and gloom for me.
I had two visits from Denver-based friends this year: D.,
who has here for a work thing, and JTV who was here to attend a concert.
Weirdly enough both their schedules and mine were such that we did the exact
same thing: they came straight from the airport and met me at the office and we
had lunch and hung out a bit until they had to leave. Of course, after the shooting
there on December 6, I am not sure I’d ever want to ask anyone to visit me at
work again. (About the shooting: I think
I will do a separate post about that at some point. I am still processing it,
and this one is so much harder than October One because of location: the
shooting site is about 200 yards from my office.)
And a little flirtation took part this year on a couple
occasions with members of the contradictory gender. The first was a painter at
work who was doing a job in the office. We chatted a little and on his last day
he brought me a peach and jasmine flavored iced tea. I did not have the heart
to tell him I hate iced tea, so I thanked him and took a couple sips while he
was still there and dumped the rest when he left. I have seen him a few times
on campus since then and he is always very friendly and gives me a ride if he
is on his work cart.
Then there was the cable guy who, whilst fixing my cable
in the middle of November, asked me if I enjoyed being single. What is weird,
though, is that I think that some other man has asked me this and I think it
might have been another cable guy. And I also think it was around the same time
of year. So of course, my overactive but negative imagination immediately
thinks that maybe all the single cable guys have entered some sort of hogging
competition for the annual Christmas party. But even though we exchanged a few
flirtatious texts (“You’re always welcome to text me outside of work as well”
he replied to a question I had about internet speeds), he must have found
someone hoggier to take to the Cox Christmas party.
So, yes, there were some high notes in 2023, but for the
most part, this tea towel sums up my 2023 quite accurately and eloquently:
