The Milk

Since I lost my job over a year ago, every week seems to feel longer than it really is. Of course, when things are bad, I'm sure this changed perception of time is prevalent. How could it not be - we say, "Time flies when you're having fun," and all that. And what came along with that, and continues until just a few moments ago, sometimes just makes me so angry and sad and bitter and defeated.

Okay, so at my new job, I've medical insurance. It's one of those things that with losing the previous gig was a huge worry for me (nevermind, the rest of the family - they were a mess). Paying hundreds of dollars a month, even with not enough money coming in, for COBRA just so that I could continue to pay a couple hundred dollars on top of that for medication and more doctor's visits seemed so ridiculous. It's one of the reasons last year the president let me down by not pushing for Single-payer Healthcare. But anyway, so am covered now...

Late last week I called in to have my two prescriptions filled because it was time. And it was the first paycheck where the new gig was paying me decently, finally. Not great, but every dollar counts, after all. I went a couple of days ago to pick them up and was told that my COBRA insurance had lapsed. I figured, so what, I've a shiny new insurance card (the cost attached to my meds then I've talked about before). So, pharmacy guy does whatever it is they do and comes back and tells me it'll be $500 for both. Turns out I need to pay my deductible before the insurance covers what it used to. This was a rather unexpected thing to have happen.

Just got back from paying this and I am still a bit embittered and sad by the whole thing. I drove to the pharmacy crying.

Honest: one of the things that bothers me the most about this is the contrasting example of the ex and my situations beyond us both being HIV-positive: I've worked for years, paying my taxes and insurance costs and all that; he's claimed disability for a lot longer than I've been taking these fucking pills: I pay what I pay for doctor visits, emergency room visits, and medicine (the most total was in 2008 which came to roughly $4000); he pays nothing. The juxtaposition is glaring to me and shows me such an unfair disparity that it simply infuriates me, and has ever since I first discovered this. And it isn't so much because it's the ex, no. It's more due to the fact that it seems that when you play by the rules in this fucking country, well, who the fuck cares, even when it comes to staying alive. To be fair, I don't know and don't recall the details of the ex's then-situation when all this came to pass for him, nor much do I care now. What stays in my mind, and did as I drove to and back from the pharmacy just now, is that while we were together, the ex said he could get any medication he wanted and he'd get it for free (I was present first hand when he had some pills for some friend of his (hair-growth pills or some such) and I know first-hand he has easy access to boner pills (he took some when we were in San Diego last year). This is the disparity: all I want is what I need and am willing to pay for it; he's one of those people others complain about abusing the system while not paying into it.

(Okay, since am on a tear about the ex, this: I am not certain of what constitutes being disabled due to HIV-infection or AIDS - if I remember correctly, he'd said to me once that he was so sick before he couldn't work. And I'm sure this is how one does this which is fair and right, especially without access to healthcare any other way. However, in the intervening years, although I'd only known him personally for about three years, from my very biased and outsider point of view, he is not disabled any longer. This is a man who gets steroids from the public clinic he goes to because he doesn't want to loose muscle because...I think he said more muscle mass is necessary to fight off HIV cells? Something like that. I'm sure there is truth to this to a degree. But I believe it is primarily so that he doesn't become physically unattractive.)

God damn but am I angry today.

I paid my $500.

Hopefully, as it was explained to me earlier by the insurance rep, I won't be paying as much next month and so on.

Sure, I'm all "woe is me" right now, but that'll pass. This is initial shock. And it's due to having to, first, spend money that I need for other things, and, two, the fact that someone like me even has to spend money on HIV medication. This is a case, for me, where I see me as part of the working class in America and I am not catching a break: from one end of the spectrum (the ex and those like him) to another (those for whom medical care is an afterthought-expense), there is a gap wherein most of lie where we have to choose between everything that is necessary (meds, food, shelter, etc) or losing most of it. It isn't fair and it isn't right. This blog post is completely biased and written in anger and may be completely offensive and all that bullshit, but who cares? It's all of it spilled milk.

Horny Werewolf

Okay, in the last three weeks something's sort of been bothering me because, well, I'm not very smart and I'm a socially awkward person.

Two summers ago, the boy and I broke up and when on the phone that night, he asked me if I had any other dating prospects. I said I didn't, I asked who does that, and afterward, I remember thinking how one has a cache of would-be boyfriends/girlfriends/partners ready and just check them off a list. I'm being facetious, sure, but when the best friend and I talked about it, she too had the same reaction.

One of the reasons why I don't date is, well, all the work in becoming to invested in a person. Call me lazy or whatever, but it's rare I come across someone I want to get to know more intimately. So when the boy said this to me then, I thought he was rather insane (what happened after, that summer, and last year cement it.).

For a number of weeks if not months, a man's been telling me he's more than interested in dating me. Full disclosure: this man is a friend of the ex's (when we were together, the boy would say his friend had a thing for me and I would brush it off and would say that his friend's friend (who's also *his* ex!) was the one who I thought had a thing for me). Anyway, after him being - I don't know what to call it, persistent? - we went out. And from the time we made plans to go out to the day itself, I thought, "Okay, I'm going into this with an open mind because, really, I've never had a man as to take me out before and it feels a little nice, and who knows what'll happen!" The date went like it did. After another week or so, I came home and discovered this man had updated his Facebook relationship status to "in a relationship".

This is what I think happened: this man, the friend of the ex's, is obviously dating or in the process of dating a number of people (at least two?), and after the disastrous events with me, things must've been going well with whoever it is he's now coupled with. Of course, because we're living in the 21st Century, I'm pretty certain I know who it is!

Late last week, the ex's friend's ex invited me out. Now, I'm not sure if I'm jumping the gun in assuming he was asking me out as in a date or not, but this is what's in my head, you see, due to recent and not-so-recent experience. Anyway, I had to turn him down because of my terrible work schedule, so nothing's come of that.

What I've come up with is that, whether I'm right or wrong, what was going on is me being in a weird sort of gay dating musical chairs kind of thing. Really, guys, were we all just waiting to be able to ask the same guy out? Is this how dating works? Have a list of potential dating ideas and just go through them like a proverbial shopping list? I am assuming a great deal here, and I am flattered to a degree (my inner slut is disappointed in no sex coming from any of this, only one round of drunken make outs and groping), but this seems really really weird. Again, when talked over with the best friend, she had the same reaction I did.

Granted, I'm not necessarily Mr. Sharp In Social Situations, but if what I'm imagining is true, it speaks volumes of this particular micro-culture, Los Angeles Gay Men. And it isn't good, in my opinion. If I am right, then...uh...it reeks of desperation to couple more than friendship or companionship. I wonder how often this happens and I'm blissfully unaware of any of it. I couldn't imagine being in a group of friends and knowing me and my friends had all dated the same person, or to the be that person. And, frankly, the idea of having several men lined up to date, whether one at a time or not, just seems so shallow and a little sad and rather ridiculous.

Two more things: when the boy and I broke up last year, I said something to him about how he wouldn't be my favorite person for a while and he said he thought we'd have sex and go to some theater thing afterward and I said I might not date as much as he but I was still hurt and his response was, "Are you calling me a slut?" And, when I went over to the ex's friend's house to watch a movie, I said to him I've never become friends with exes nor with people I've sex with because, well, I just don't and he said he's become friends with a number of people with whom he's fucked.

This is the most ridiculous blog post this year, I'm certain.