Tuesday, 27 December 2016
Well, this year is almost over. I can’t believe it, yet I can. In fact, I’ve already written this year off. It’s a week of mellowing out and getting ready to face a brand new year of hopes and dreams and goals and successes.
Ya know, in 2016 I don’t think I would have done anything different. I think I would have been more honest to some folks earlier on. I really do, but thats it. In 2016, I learned not to let folks get too comfortable and toward the end of the year (after my birthday), I learned to pipe up and let people know that I was getting tired of their bullshit. I’m so tired of fake people and fake friends and fake family members and giving them excuses in my mind for being how they are; you’re either a really good person to me or a shithead. That’s all there is… for me at least.
Professionally, I’ve blossomed. I’m excited for my journey with Label.m, Rockstars + Lambs is growing and I’m learning a lot of lessons on a financial level. I have got to get my IRS issues under control. I owe them some money. I don’t keep this a secret. I think a lot of successful people do. Joan Rivers did when she died, but I’m not dead. I need to pay up. I need to stumble across a gold brick or something. I can budget well, but I don’t know if I can possibly make as many budget cuts necessary as I need to. Here’s what I can tell you: I will make it happen. I always do.
Personally, I feel like Chris and I have evolved. I feel like my parents and I have evolved. I know that my sister and I have evolved. She’s living with her boyfriend and his son now and its a very tough change for me. I can’t accept her as a 29-year-old woman. It’s tough. She’s in full-on stepmom territory. My Guela is getting older and I constantly count the days. I don’t want to think about the limited time I may/may not have with her.
Then George Michael died…. omg.
Christmas Day, Chris and I were driving to see his aunt and all of a sudden I read on Apple News that Georgie passed. I just can’t. I just can’t. (Let me repeat)—- I just can’t. I loved him. I thought of all the horrible things that people would say about him and what he died from. People are mean to gay people when they die: they always say they died of AIDS or drug usage. It’s so stupid. Don’t get me wrong, the stereotypes exist: someone that fucked everyone may die of a sexually transmitted disease (gross), a drug user may have shared a needle or caused damage to their organs (not cool), but a lot of us gay people lived mostly celibate lives. George certainly DID NOT live a celibate life… and he admitted it.
As I lay in bed last night, I thought about how I miss my mom, I’m gonna miss my grandma, I’m miss me and Adrian being little kids (even though she’s a shit sometimes), I miss George, I miss a simple life, I miss a privileged life of no worries….
Christmas day was smooth, Christmas Eve was smooth, George died smoothly according to his partner. All I want to do is move smoothly into 2017. Fuck everyone and everything else. Let’s make some money, let’s travel, let’s eat and drink because I have learned that no matter what stage of life you are in, you’re gonna die, you’re gonna be talked about, the holidays are still gonna come and you might die then. Don’t ever worry about what people think. George didn’t! My grandma doesn’t care, my mom doesn’t either and I most certainly
from this point on DON’T.