Brian and Justin Real Time Conversations

Early Flight

2008-10-07T10:04:53Z

I started a new thread. (Stating the obvious.) Our updates haven't been that frequent lately and we have some new voyeurs who may not realize they have to go back and check the comments for new replies. For that matter, some of our regulars may have forgotten.

In any event, sure - we can discuss Peter later. Or not. I just thought you should know what he said.

And of course I didn't object to your getting me last night. Pun intended. I expected no less.

So. I have to leave for the airport soon. (More stating of the obvious.) It'll be a busy week and I keep reminding myself that it's only a few days and I'll be back here Friday night. But then I leave again on Tuesday for SF. Three fucking weeks. I'm excited, of course, but I'm really going to miss you. I feel like some stupid ass kid going off to overnight camp for the first time.

Okay, enough pouting. For now.

I'll make some coffee. You have to get up soon too. Maybe you'll have time for a cup with me before I have to leave. Or time for something else. Yeah, something else sounds promising. Actually, maybe we can just lie in bed together a little while longer? It's chilly this morning and having you next to me is what I'll miss most. Oops, there's that pout again.

Tired

2008-10-05T04:42:53Z

You're snoring (you do sometimes, when you're very tired; deny it if you will) and I'm tired too, but as often happens, I just can't sleep. Too wound up. My usual sleep agents, including tonight's fuck-that-almost-never-ended, aren't doing the trick, so to speak.

In fact, I'm in something of a maudlin mood. And I hate myself, when I post in this state, because I ALWAYS regret it the next day. If I awaken before you tomorrow, I'll probably erase this next bit.

Here goes. I feel the need to tell you how much I appreciate everything you've been doing the last several weeks. The work you've done on this campaign is singularly outstanding (though I didn't need that fucking Charley to tell me so, he should keep his thoughts to himself if he wants to keep working for me). Linds and Mel had better appreciate all the crap and legwork and moral support and child care you've been doing; even if they don't, I sure as fuck DO. Probably I haven't told you all this. Or not often enough. One of my Tragic Flaws. (I have very, very few flaws, as you know, but lack of acknowledgment or "gratitude" is one of them.)

I wish like hell that I could go to San Francisco with you. I'd like to show you the Castro, the best bars and clubs, the sizzling street scene at night. I've been there a couple times before on business (Marty Ryder even sent me twice in one month a few years ago) and I made the most of my free time. Justin, no shit - I want you to do the same. Of course with the caveat of being careful. I know you're not as trusting as you used to be, but exercise more caution than usual, all right? Remember that I expect you to get some action while you're there, and that it's okay.

And no, that is not backhanded way to make it okay for me to do the same. Which I will do when I am in Memphis, but which I will refrain from doing in the Pitts. Not because you said so, but because I agreed of my own free will. So: Don't hold back. Just (beating a dead horse here): Be careful and be particular.

The ass you save may be your own, but remember, it also belongs to me.

Just possibly "missing you" - or a reasonable facsimile

2008-09-27T23:59:17Z

Well, Mister Taylor, this weekend apart sucks just as much as we agreed it was going to do.

I know you are totally immersed in the opening of your Toronto gallery, but I am somewhat surprised that you didn't find time to regale your loyal bitches with tales of last weekend's debauchery. I might even find it entertaining reading myself. Consolation, perhaps, for my own sexless existence this weekend.

Not counting the occasional date with Boris Does Belorusse, a new DVD recommended by the former porn king; and not as bad as it sounds. Those smooth Eastern European boys are hot. Especially the blue-eyed blonds with their tight little asses.

I'm still at the office, and I might sleep here tonight. Not kidding. Speaking of asses, we are ass-deep in preparations for the client presentation on Monday, and NOBODY is having a good time. There are rumblings, but most of the staff are scared shitless of me, so I don't hear much of it.

Okay, I know that's not exactly right. Cynthia swears everybody "adores" me and would lie down in traffic, and blah-blah-fucking-blah. The truth is somewhere in between, I suppose. I pay them all about twice what they'd get anywhere else, so that's surely a factor. But considering that I yell at most of 'em all the time, I don't buy the adoration bullshit. Except the ones into S&M, I suppose.

That would be Ted.

Surprisingly, Peter has been a lot of help here at the office, or so I am told. He sure as fuck wants the extra cash, so he's knuckling down.

I know you instructed me to think about "the tricking thing" this weekend. Happily for me, I'm too fucking busy to think about fucking anybody but Boris.

Any hot (i.e. irresistible) art afficianados pop into the gallery this weekend? Don't spare me the details. Imagination is all I've got right now.

Yes, fucking YES, I am being repeatedly summoned by a staff person who does not value his balls. I'll check back later to see if you've surfaced.

Don't Call 911

2008-09-21T01:05:31Z

Since the poor boy is all tied up (as it were) at the moment, I feel obligated to post the information here, for all his favorite bitches, that, although he does cry out for help from time to time, there is no need to worry. I don't think he REALLY wants help, or at any rate, I don't think that he wants to be rescued any time soon.

I'm sure the dear lad will enjoy sharing all the details of his current ordeal "if" and when he returns to the land of the free some day. Suffice it to say, the car and driver did indeed pick him up at the airport as planned, whisked him away deep into the countryside to a certain establishment known to many of you by a hideously silly name that has never passed MY lips (it starts with B, but that's your only clue). Let us just say, Mister Taylor's arrival at and welcome to said establishment was not what he expected.

Alas, there is no more time to dally here, I think I'd better keep looking for that damn missing key. In fact, I'd better hurry now. Because even though the sound proofing of our house is quite reliable, I don't want any of Mister Taylor's screams or moans to catch the attention of any random passerby who might feel obligated to call 911. No-no-no; I have not finished with him yet...

Gird your loins

2008-09-19T01:32:21Z

Are you "up" for this coming weekend? Just you and me, kid. An old quote (and a possibly grammatically incorrect one) but, hey. This weekend alone is cause for a fucking celebration. And I DO mean a "fucking celebration."

What a pleasant surprise that Peter has a male friend, I thought he was turning into a full-time pussy-hound. This kid (Jeff?), whose dad is a rich corporate CEO with a house in the most expensive suburb in the Pitts, is hosting some kind of boys-only weekend party, which Peter is (surprisingly) very excited to attend. When I heard "no girls," I was sure he'd turn up his nose. But I guess he likes this guy, who's another soccer player, so he begged me to say yes. I did check with the parents, or anyway, I called the mother (second marriage apparently, she sounds young on the phone anyway) who confirmed there will be plenty of supervision and no alcohol allowed. The selling point for Peter seems to be a planned horseback ride on Saturday afternoon. I'm not sure but I think this Jeff has his own horse. Don't be surprised if Peter starts checking out the former stables at our WV house.

Don't YOU get any ideas, either. The answer is NO. Got that?

So, since Mel assured you she'll be home all weekend to care for Gus, JR and Lindsay, it'll be an ADULT BOYS ONLY weekend for us. Get the earliest flight you can tomorrow. Call me as soon as you know your arrival time. I can't leave Kinnetik until 5 at the earliest, but I will be sending a car to meet your flight. Be sure to eat before you leave Toronto. Because food is NOT on the menu for this weekend. (Okay, you can have Deb's lasagne, but nothing else.)

Yes, you heard me. I have PLANS. I've been thinking about ALL that I want to do to you this weekend, and Christ almighty, I even found myself missing some of your insane and silly role-playing games. I "might" even have thought up one of my own. No details here, so don't even think about asking. Just wait for the car, and jettison any plans you may have had for your weekend in beautiful Pittsburgh-on-the-Susquehanna. Your ass is MINE.

Your ass is always mine, but take my word for it, this will be DIFFERENT.

How forgetful we both seem to be lately

2008-09-16T23:41:02Z

For my part, I probably forgot to tell you that Ted and I had to spend most of today in Monroeville, of all unlikely places. Just got back an hour ago and have been putting out fires at the office.

So I've been out of touch all day, and yet somehow, even without the intervention of Mysterious Marilyn, an interesting rumor/prediction has drifted through my transom. To the effect that someday soon, I might be fucking a man of means.

I have no way to confirm this information, since I've been (purposely?) left in the dark, all the while that man of means brags to others of his recent success.

Any of this ring a bell?

Fax needed

2008-09-15T17:24:21Z

Don't forget to fax those papers to me today (use Cynthia's fax number, in case I forget to check the machine in my office).

I Hope You Took Your Chill Pill

2008-09-15T01:18:47Z

I mean, I know you hate this weekend traveling shit, but you were totally out of line with Peter. So he was on the phone all day? Big fucking deal. It's not like we couldn't be reached on our cells. You sounded like my fucking father. And that's NOT an age dig, it's a domineering thing.

As wrong as you were to cut off Peter's call like you did, he was equally off base in his response. But come on, Brian. Was it worth ending our weekend like that? The drive to Peter's school and then the airport was oh so pleasant. And don't think Gus didn't notice.

So yeah, I'm home. I dropped Gus off first and stayed half an hour at his house to see how Lindsay's doing (fair) and catch up with Mel. Michael had already left.

Can't Sleep

2008-09-09T06:24:32Z

Listen, I'm coming home this weeked. You can't keep dragging your ass up here every weekend so I"m going to ask Mel in the morning if I can bring Gus with me. Either way, I'm the one traveling this weekend. I'll book my flight unless you think Cynthia will be put out.

Now that I've hired Amy (and Brenda), I'm really good to go here. The gallery that is.

Okay. I'll try to sleep.

bj_connect @ 2008-09-05T10:11:00

2008-09-05T17:28:39Z

Took a break from the office at lunchtime and worked out at the gym; it's been too long. I'm losing muscle tone, too much work and commuting between two cities is not a good thing to keep my perfect body in perfect condition. I've told Cynthia to make sure I get out of here for at least an hour a day. There's other ways to work up a sweat, but I realize that not all of them are acceptable to my partner sequestered in the north.

Two days of impossible clients and playing "single dad" to Peter have taken a toll. I managed to get him and all his shit packed up and packed off to school. He spent the entire day Tuesday with what's-her-name, ClaraBelle. I wasn't sure that was a good idea, but I was too fucking busy at work to play supervisor. He swore he behaved himself. I hope that's true.

I don't think I can get out of here early today, there's a late afternoon meeting I want to skip but better not. I can't trust everything to this motley crew. Peter made the expected fuss about staying at Jesus Central this weekend, but he hasn't earned enough of my trust to leave him alone at the loft, and it's ridiculous to drag him back and forth to Toronto with me every weekend. We didn't discuss this but I believe you'll agree. I told him he could come next weekend instead. But it's sure as fuck easier to rubber stamp your decisions and declarations to the brat, than to be the one and only family CEO on the spot.

So, yeah, I guess I might be missing you in more ways than one.

Under Arrest

2008-09-01T22:56:56Z

Surprisingly, you haven’t complained about being under arrest this weekend. “Forbidden” to use the computer. You already know how selfish I am, so I guess you were not surprised that I wanted you all to myself this long weekend (as much as possible anyway). Now it’s almost over, so I’m relaxing my rule. Especially since you’re gone to pick up the boys, without complaining while I stayed here to catch up with work email. That didn’t take long really, because I only skimmed mail from Cynthia and Ted, and decided that everything else can wait till I’m back in the Pitts tomorrow.

I think you said you’d made reservations for the four of us for dinner, but (so shoot me) I wasn’t paying attention at that moment, so I can’t remember “where.” I’m sure it’s someplace good, since we promised to drop off “take-out” for the girls afterwards. Having the boys stay with us yesterday afternoon and evening was fine, and Peter stepped in as he promised to do, and took some responsibility for Gus, but I’m glad they’ll be sleeping at the munchers’ tonight – I don’t plan to be quiet OR careful once we are alone. If I have to go several days without your ass, I intend to make the most of it tonight.

Not that I expect you to complain.

It was funny this morning, when we dropped the boys off at the munchers’ for the day and explained to Peter that he needs to stay there tonight, even though he’s flying back with me tomorrow morning. He made a face and muttered something like, “As if I don’t know WHY.” Did you really not hear him, or did you just ignore him like I did? At least his own raging teenage hormones make him more understanding than he might normally be. Altogether, he’s been very well behaved this visit, do you think he’s maturing? On the other hand, he’s been angling for some new Wii something or other, so that’s probably a big part of his current cooperative behavior.

Oh fuck, you’ll be here any minute and I’m not dressed yet.

Waiting

2008-08-29T14:55:42Z

for you and my halo!

I understand about last night, but really try to skip out of there soon! Run even.

bj_connect @ 2008-08-26T15:25:00

2008-08-26T19:26:43Z

Guess where I am?

Yup. Home away from home. I even hung that violet piece on the living wall. I have more than enough at the gallery.

DSL is a go as well.

I miss you, Brian. A lot.

Time for you to come home

2008-08-25T16:04:04Z

I've had some time to think this morning on the flight home. And last night. After you conked out, I just lay there for awhile, thinking. A close encounter of the Melanie kind put a bug in my ear. Or up my ass. Not that she intended to (giving her the benefit of the doubt, not something I usually do for that......person).

As I was coming up last night, she and I passed on the stairs. She stopped and said she wanted to thank me for turning all our lives upside down in order to help Lindsay get through this illness and the coming storm of radiation and (if we can talk her into it), chemo. I was taken off guard, waiting for Mel to drop the other shoe - you know, find a way to twist around her "thanks" and stick it to me somehow. She's mastered that art form long ago. But she didn't. Or, not exactly.

But when I tried to blow her off, joked that my life is just fine, thanks, it's YOUR life that's been turned upside down, she said what a lucky man I am - because "sacrifice just comes naturally to Justin."

And I realized that she was right. YOU are the one doing all the sacrificing, and it's my fault. Jesus Christ, I can afford to pay for a nanny, a bunch of nannies and nurses and other caretakers, for Gus and Lindsay and everybody else who needs looking after. Why should YOU put your life on hold to take care of what is basically MY PROBLEM?

You will say something all "loving and giving," all Christian and new-age-y, about fucking ENJOYING taking care of things for me, for Gus, for Lindsay, for the fucking whole world. The whole world minus one artist who's lost enough fucking time from his professional and personal life.

All I wanted to do was help Lindsay and make sure Gus is taken care of. But that is not YOUR problem. You have your own life to pursue, you've lost enough time the past few years, you don't need to fucking SACRIFICE more of your time, just because I asked you to. Or - I didn't even ask, did I? I just assumed you would step in and take care of things. As you have done. But it's not right.

Forget the fucking apartment. I can stay in a hotel when I'm up there. YOU can stay home, here in the Pitts or at our house, getting on with your own pursuits. I'm serious, Justin. Plan on wrapping things up there today, and get your ass home where you belong tomorrow.

Don't fight me on this.

I will be there, just later than planned

2008-08-22T22:02:55Z

Left a message on your cell that I WILL BE there tonight, I'm catching the last Liberty Air flight. I couldn't let you know sooner because of a client complication, he kept us hanging all fucking afternoon.

Can't help wondering why you didn't answer your cell phone.

Can I use this picture?

2008-08-21T04:34:09Z

Even though it's not exactly snowing right now. For some reason I like this photo, though it reminds me of a bad time. I think it was taken right before I left for Ibiza. Maybe that time is on my mind, "for some reason."

You sounded strange on the phone somehow. Restrained? Holding back? Maybe because you were at the munchers and others may have been nearby. But you didn't sound normal. And no, I am not sure what I mean by that. You wouldn't keep anything important from me, would you?

It's okay for you to send me pictures of the two apartments you found, but really, I'm leaving the final decision up to you. It annoys me that you keep asking for my input, as if I'm going to criticize your choices.

Okay, now it's bugging me, the way you sounded on the phone. If I didn't think I'd wake up the entire house, I'd call back and make you tell me. Was it just lack of privacy? Or are you pissed because you're stuck up there alone with a couple of battling lezzies, a difficult teenager, and a demanding little boy? I don't blame you if you're angry. I shouldn't have painted you into a corner like that. I took it for granted you'd be okay with it, and you've warned me about taking you for granted. I haven't forgotten. Except, maybe this time I did it without thinking?

Christ, I loathe introspection.

I Don't Have The Heart To Wake You

2008-08-19T03:00:20Z

You're sound asleep next to Gus. In his tiny bed. Curled up around him, protecting him from whatever he might need protection from. Or maybe it's the other way around. He has one of your hands under his cheek. I'd be jealous if it wasn't so damn sweet.

I just checked on Peter and told him to turn off the TV within the half hour. More Olympics. I warned him if Melanie comes down there to shut him up it won't be pleasant.

After I post this, I'm going to try to get some sleep. I assume you'll wake up at some point, totally disoriented in a foreign bed (like old times) and make your way to the guest room and me. I'll leave the laptop on the dresser so maybe you'll think to read this. We're both behind in comments, but I think everybody understands.

Speaking of everyone, we haven't told them what's up. Not like we had any time, between picking up Peter at camp and flying back up here. (So if any voyeurs are reading this - it's mainly good news. Lindsay's path report came back clear: no sign of cancer cells outside what was removed. She meets with her doctor tomorrow regarding recommended follow-up treatment.)

It was a hell of a lot more comfortable at the hotel this past weekend, but I don't blame Gus for wanting to stay at HIS house for at least one night. We were just here, but Peter wasn't with us on the last trip and I know how much Gus likes to play in his room with his cousin. At least this makes it easy for you and Lindsay to drive together to the doctor tomorrow. I'm still shocked Melanie agreed you could go with her. I'm sure it's partially because Mel can't get out of going to court tomorrow, but I thought she'd freak when you insisted on being a part of Lindsay's treatment plan.

You're going to have your hands full all the same. Lindsay does not want to do anything that will make her feel sick or lose her hair. I have no idea what they're going to suggest, but I know you want insurance that she'll be alive to see Gus grow up. Yeah, and to see you grow up too.

You've been there, you know. Just be gentle with her.

Thursday

2008-08-15T02:11:16Z

I want to go out tonight. Want to hit Babylon, want to lose myself in an orgy of drugs, music and the smell of sweat, a hundred mouths and asses and moans and orgasms. Want nothing else. Nothing else.

But. I won't. We can't leave Gus alone, and I don't want to leave him with anyone else right now. No babysitter. What if he got upset, thinking about Lindsay, and we weren't there for him? And I won't saddle you with sole responsibility for my son while I slip away to enjoy some hours of oblivion, just because you're a fucking fantastic caretaker, just because you are being stronger than I am right now, dealing with everything in that fucking amazing calm way that you have. I won't do that.

And don't imagine that I'm hinting, asking you to say it's okay. You know I'm never subtle; you know it. I'm just - what is that ridiculous emo word? Venting?

Justin, I read everything you said in your last comment. I read it, I digested it. But I can't comment on it right now. You understand. And you know that regrets are not my thing, never have been, never will be. But I would never go through that cancer hospital bullshit alone again. That was one of the lowest of low points in my life. Not as low as a few other things. You, lying bloody on the pavement. The Rage party. The fucking exposion at Babylon. But still: low. Very fucking low.

Tuesday night

2008-08-13T04:36:37Z

I'm glad you're sleeping so soundly tonight, I hate to think of all the hours you've gone short the past few days. You get full credit for keeping it together, for keeping us together, this little family of ours, during the current crisis.

It's good to be home, sleeping in our own bed again; I'll join you there in a few minutes. I know that you have felt "guilty" for ignoring your bitches; you said you promised to keep them informed, so I decided, what the fuck, I can't sleep right now anyway, I'll do it for you.

To recap: Friday we learned that Lindsay was scheduled for surgery yesterday (Monday) so we decided to take Gus home for a couple days, to see Lindsay, but more importantly, for Linds to see him. Of course I was not worried that she'd die on the operating table or anything, I never worry about shit like that, but we decided that, maybe we should cover the bases anyway. Just in case. In case something bad happened. Though of course I knew nothing would.

I didn't really want to tell Gus anything about the surgery, but as usual I was overruled by you and Mel, and actually, I know you both were right (how it pains me to give Mel credit for anything). Gus needed to know something was up, and the explanation that Lindsay "had something wrong in her chest," and that she needed a doctor to remove it, was about the best anybody could have come up with. (But I still say that calling it a "booboo in her chest" was stupid.) Because all of us managed to appear calm and unconcerned, I guess that eased Gus' mind. At any rate, he didn't seem too upset about all this, did he?

The flight home late last night, after Linds was moved from recovery and settled in her room, was exhausting for Gus. For all of us. She seems good, don't you think? She seemed comfortable and calm and not very worried. Right? On the phone today, she was so positive and upbeat. I hope that's true. I hope she's feeling that way, and not just pretending to make everybody else feel okay.

Now the fucking wait for pathology. The doctor surprised me, I mean, she seemed very competent, even if she is a female, but I know that's what the girls wanted, even if she is het. (And just because she spent a good amount of time explaining things, I know damn well she was speaking to BOTH of us, NOT singling me out, NOT hitting on me. You are such a shit for even suggesting such a thing.)

I know I wouldn't want a woman slicing up my balls, so I guess munchers wouldn't want a man cutting into their tits. But even though the doctor said the lump seemed contained, that she didn't suspect any lymph node involvement, it won't be easy to just wait and wait. Why do these fucking lab tests take so long? Not knowing what kind of follow-up treatment Lindsay will need is frustrating too.

I was frankly shocked when Mel took us aside and asked that, if Lindsay needs more intensive treatment or whatever, if we could keep Gus a bit longer than planned. I mean, I was sure she'd want to just rip him away from me and keep him there. Even if she'd have to make more arrangements. I'm just surprised that she seems content to leave Gus with me/us for the time being. All in all, Mel was fairly decent in person. Naturally I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, but apparently she means to keep up this truce for the time being anyway. Maybe Lindsay asked her to?

I hated sleeping at the girls' house but of course Gus wanted and needed to do that, so it was okay. But that's the last time I fuck in the backseat of a rental car. I've still got a spasm in my back. I need a few special Sunshine massages to take care of that pain. Put it on your calendar.

The fact that Gus was excited to get back to his little camp adventure surely means that he's feeling okay about things. I know that you feel okay about things. I just wish that I did, too. I'm going to crawl into bed beside you. Maybe your warmth will seep into my bones and relax me, even if you don't wake up again tonight.

Father's Day

2008-08-08T01:22:04Z

Just checked email and dealt with a couple late afternoon problems at K that happened after I left, and now I am "all yours" for the rest of tonight.

Did I pass judgment today? Was I a good enough father to satisfy you? I'm still pissed at the way you reamed me out (and you know which way I mean) and this, after I assured you I did the right thing in going to the house instead of coming home to the loft yesterday. Yes, right, "you don't mean to make me feel guilty." Congratulations on your command of passive-aggression, Mister Taylor.

So: I came home early from the office this afternoon so I could be there for Gus. I helped cook dinner. I played The Ant Bully without complaint. I tucked Gus in and read to him. He seems okay tonight. He's accepted the postponement of the mommies visit with apparent equanimity. He hugged and kissed me good night, without referencing my defects as a father.

Now that Gus is asleep, I'll take care of playing daddy for YOU, if you're interested. You know I resist THAT particular fantasy game of yours; I am NOT that old, damn you. I don't mind participating in your spanking fantasies, but I draw the line at impersonating your real father.

bj_connect @ 2008-08-06T21:34:00

2008-08-07T04:54:42Z

I know you might not agree, but seriously? Driving out here to the house for the night, while you and Gus are in town, was actually doing you (both) a favor. Ask Cynthia.

Today I immersed myself in work and might have been a tiny bit harsh on the staff. Cynthia called it "tormenting," which is an exaggeration. However, when she laid into me, she claimed I don't pay her enough for such "abuse." That knocked me sideways because, as you know, I pay her very fucking well.

So I left early (with a certain amount of encouragement from Cynthia and Ted) and came on out here. I was glad you didn't answer the phone so I could just leave a message; believe me, you did NOT want to talk to me in real time, at that moment. And I really did not want to take out my mood on you guys tonight.

Talked to Lindsay early this morning. As I told you, the lump is malignant. Apparently it's small and "chances are good" that they caught it early enough. You know my belief in "chances are good," or you should, since that's what the fucking doctor told me about my ball, before the malignancy was confirmed. Naturally I am not pessimistic when I'm talking to Linds. She was a basket case on the weekend, but she's seen her surgeon (the same one who did the biopsy) and he is going to do a lumpectomy (I'm sure you know that's a small surgery, not removal of her whole breast).

Besides the terror of cancer, Linds is absolutely shaken to the core at the thought of losing her tits. She is vain about them, always has been. They are not bad, for female appendages, if you like that sort of thing (thankfully you don't). So that's part of her dread, not to mention pain and the possibility/probability of follow-up radiation or chemo.

Justin, I can't talk about this any more. Hopefully you are asleep by now and didn't wait for me to write you as I told you I would. I've had a few drinks, just a few, I'm not plastered, but I'm not going to drive back to town. I wanted to stay here tonight anyway. I'll go straight to the office in the morning, and see you tomorrow night. Or come by for lunch, if you and Gus have time for that? I don't know your schedule for tomorrow. It's going to be another hectic day of course, so if we go out, it will have to be short. Or maybe you can pick something up and bring it in for the 3 of us to eat in my office? I know that Gus has been wanting to visit "Kinn-tet-icka."

Oh fuck, I forgot that Gus will be at day camp. Well, come by yourself, if you can, and if you want to.

I will endeavor NOT to be an asshole tomorrow. Besides, I can't gamble on losing Cynthia. Not that I think she'd really leave, but I know that she's had plenty of offers from competitors. Maybe it's time for me to say something nice, or buy her flowers. Christ, I hate that bullshit sucking up shit. Even when (or maybe especially when) it's relatively sincere.

Bed For Starters

2008-08-06T01:55:33Z

I knew it was bad news when you stayed in the bathroom that long. I'm guessing the conversation with Lindsay only lasted a few minutes and the rest of the time you were just decompressing. Finding you like that, sitting on the floor with your back against the cold tile, staring blankly straight ahead - well you didn't really need to tell me what went down.

I'm not going to spout bullshit stuff I can't backup, but I am here for you. And for Gus. I'll do whatever I can. You know that.

So just come to bed.

Wake up soon

2008-08-03T21:59:28Z

Just discovered you and Gus napping in the hammock. I was tempted to join you, but knew you'd wake up, so instead I came in here to grab a beer, and finally settled down on the computer. Don't feel like checking work stuff; today feels too relaxing. I should - I missed most of Friday. But fuck it.

It was kind of a mixed blessing, dropping Peter off at soccer camp today. It was sweet (or something sappy like that) the way the boys hugged goodbye. I know Gus will miss Peter, and I think we will miss him too - not just for his own sake, but for his help with Gus. I need to help you more the next couple weeks. I've said I would; but maybe you'll need to remind me. Being the self-centered asshole that I am, I might forget.

Speaking of that, I'm glad (grateful really) that you've let go of your anger about Friday. I've said I won't do that again, and you know I keep my word. It wasn't malice, you know that, J. But it's still hard to remember that I can't always act unilaterally.

Gus doesn't seem excited enough about his day camp. Are you SURE he wants to go? He seems slightly reticent. Do you think he's scared of something? I know the girls sent him to day camps last summer, so what could he be worried about? Maybe my imagination.

Maybe I should take turns being responsible for dinner for you boys tonight. Where did you put the take-out menus?

Where The Hell Are You?

2008-08-01T15:41:40Z

This is so NOT funny. I put in a couple hours at the gallery and then stopped by K on my way to the park where I told Peter he could hang out with Gus if they were all packed for WVA before I got back to the loft. Anyway, as of course you know, you are not there. Cynthia says you took off the better part of the day and would be back before dark. WTF?

Pulling a disappearing act during working hours is totally not like you and, again as you fucking well know, your cell phone is off. Which means you WANT to be out of contact with me. This is so not cool, Brian. What if I needed you? What if Gus needed you? Christ, Brian.

The boys are all set, so we're heading to the house, with a stop some place for them to swim. I won't be on-line again until this afternoon or later, so you might call me on my cell so this doesn't escalate into something ugly. Or post, I suppose, and I'll read it later.

I know you have things on your mind, but I'm shocked you would do this right now.

Probably more "sharing" than even YOU want...

2008-07-30T20:49:14Z

Finally heard from Lindsay. She took the coward's way out, and e-mailed me instead of calling. What do you think of this? I'm sure she is over-reacting, and yet, for some reason, I sort of understand where she's coming from.

Now that I've called her a coward, what's keeping ME back from calling HER? I really don't know.

Brian:

I hope I didn’t worry you too much having Melanie contact you yet again. It’s been a very emotional experience, to say the least. I found an oncologist who can perform the needle biopsy for me. I wanted an expert and now I have one. A woman. Hopefully, the results will be fine and this ordeal will be over soon.

Yet I find myself thinking so much about Gus and about you. If anything ever happens to me before Gus is grown, before he can make legal decisions for himself, I need to feel confident that you will continue to hold a place in his life. Melanie loves Gus as much as we do, but you and she have not always seen eye to eye. I’m going to discuss my concerns with her, but I would like some sort of agreement that Gus will continue to spend summers with you (and Justin), and that she will make him available for periodic weekend visits during the school year.

I’m frightened, Brian. I want to see my little boy grow up and the idea that maybe I won’t, is too horrible for words.

Please go easy on Mel if she calls you to discuss this.

Lindsay