Lazy Day

Good thing it's Pajama Day. Fed the damn cats, then went back to bed until 11:30. Mmmmmm. 

Wish someone would bring me coffee in bed. Alas, that would be my own self having to do that.

PJD footwear. This is as girly as I get y'all.

Anyway, yesterday - the wedding! 

It was oh so sweet. Lovely. Heartwarming. Everyone in the church laid hands on them and blessed them. They served us communion. I cried. A lot.

Wish this wasn't so blurry. The look of love! 

B. and his honorary (and honored) moms

E., our intrepid Drag Bingo leader R. (sans drag), N.

N. and I went to A Southern Season afterward for ice tea and shrimp hushpuppies. (yum) After that I met another friend at Med Deli (my favorite!) for a late supper. Came home and had a couple of glasses of Prosecco to toast the happy couple. 

A sweet, sweet day. 

Crossing Over

My friend left this mortal plane today around 4 am Pacific Daylight Time. A swift blessing.

Thanks to the miracles of technology, I was part of the death bed vigil in California.
Text messages, Facebook IM's from the bedside. Dear friends served by proxy - held his hand and told him I loved him. I could just hug their necks for that; it meant more than I can say.

My eyes are practically swollen shut from crying. (I do not look good when I cry. Some people do. That damn cheap Irish/Scandinavian complexion. Just turns red.)

Anyway, no more suffering, no more pain.

Safe journey Mountain Man. We'll light up a few cigars in your honor.

"Paradise is exactly like where you are right now... only much, much better." -- Laurie Anderson

My Friend

Is dying.
The only man who ever wrote a song for me. Never mind that it was a parody song set to The Beach Boys "Barbara Ann".

He's just 61 years old.

He kicked the shit out of Burkitt's lymphoma last year. But cancer is a fucking bastard bully and would not leave him alone. He was diagnosed with Mantle cell lymphoma in May.
He went into the hospital last week and by Sunday he was on hospice. It won't be long.


I can tell you these things: he has the most booming laugh you ever heard. (he is also a world champion snorer). The crinkliest eyes when he smiles. You do not want to play Risk with him - he will win - at all cost. He co-wrote a book on making your own willow chair. He wrote a screenplay. He loves his Wildcats, cigars, politics, swing dancing, God, his friends, genealogy, music. Not necessarily in that order - except for the Wildcats.

Good night, sweet friend. Dream sweet dreams for you.