High Cotton

They gave Mom two units of blood today. It occurred to me that I don’t think I’ve ever seen anybody receive donated blood. That’s weird for someone who’s been to war. And I did see some gory shit when I was in Iraq. I’d like to say thanks to whoever donated that blood to help my mom. I will withhold details of her condition until we know more. I think she’ll be okay.

Did you know that if you are a male who has had sex with another male since the 70s you are not allowed to donate blood? That’s so weird. That’s all the gay men and half the straight men I know. I think that gay men are probably the portion of the population, more than any other group, that knows more accurately and consistently their HIV status. I’m sure we get tested more than anybody else– but still my blood’s not good enough for them. Fuck em. I’d give if I could. If you’re not a man who has had sex with another man since the 70s, please go give blood on my behalf this week. You might help save someone like my mom.

Chad’s up near home working this week and I’m down in Auburn. I’ll see the orthopedic surgeon tomorrow in Tuskegee about my hand. I know it’s broken so I don’t know exactly what they want to do but I got a call from the VA telling me I needed to show up there tomorrow. There’s something hard floating around underneath the surface on my knuckle. That’s the part that hurts the most and that’s not even where the break is. I used to hit road signs with that fist when I was a teenager. I was angry and hurt a lot in those days. I think I probably chipped it a few times back then too. Breaking my hand because I’m angry and sad at something happening outside of me (and often beyond my control) is a great metaphor and a great opportunity for me to learn. The basic spiritual lesson behind it is: Look Dude, shit’s fucked up sometimes. No need to hurt yourself because of it. (Very heady and complicated stuff, huh?)

Tonight I had a date with a veterinary student. I’m practicing dating. I told y’all that before. It’s something I’ve never really done. Both of my long-term relationships began on the first date. This guy played college football as an undergrad. I ain’t gonna lie, that’s kind of a turn on for me. I’ve also usually been with guys who are a lot smaller than me. (Duh, I’m 6’5″ 260lbs. Most guys are a lot smaller than me.) But lately I’ve been out with two guys about my size. It’s weird and different and sort of cool. The power dynamic is different and since I often profess how much I hate the whole “top or bottom” template, this could work out well.

The soon-to-be veterinarian and I walked through a cotton field tonight on our date. We talked and looked at the stars. It was a beautiful night here on the plains. Wranglers, t-shirts, and cowboy boots were the uniform of the day. Yeah, it did occur to me that I was pretty much living out a fantasy from my youth. I reckon I’ve ended up doing a lot of things as an adult that I dreamed of as a boy. I also reckon that in some ways that means I’ve had a good life. And still more to come. Glad y’all are along for the ride.

See y’all tomorrow.