Saturday Night in Toledo, Ohio

There's never anything a single person can do alone. And I'm not single, really, just geographically inconvenient to my sweetie, who lives in Michigan and who I won't see tll next week. I'm at Starbucks working, but thought I'd treat myself to a midnight movie. No dice. The new movie company in Toledo, Rave Motion Pictures, now declines to show movies after 11 pm. So I could go to a bar or a Waffle House. I think I'll go home and watch a movie on the tube, snuggle my cats and rest up. I've got a killer week ahead between the three jobs I'm juggling, my writing, and social and family obligations.

Tomorrow, I'll help my (sort of) stepdad move a stack of 40-pound pavers into the backyard so he can anchor his new cantilevered umbrella over the patio furniture. There's leftover ribs in it for me (in the job, not, I hope, in the furniture).

All this underscores a need to move. Not to Michigan, though my sweetie would love that. I miss Boston. I miss movies that start at 1 am and having a million things to do any night of the week. I miss the ocean and the Cape. I miss all of it. No idea if I'll ever live there again, or anywhere other than here.

Still, despite being nearly as good a pilot as he was a singer, John Denver got it right when he covered that shitty song about my town. It's like noplace at all, and I want to be someplace....someplace lovely.

The way he makes me feel

My relationship status has changed, and not just on Facebook. His name is Mike. He's the bee's knees. He makes me laugh all the time. He's smart and kind and a little evil (as am I...muahahahaha!). He has amazing upper body strength. This may have something to do with the chair. He has cerebral palsy. Yes, folks, his junk works fine, thanks for wondering!

Telling Mike's story would take a whole book, and that's a book Mike needs to write himself. A guy who's met Ronald Reagan, William Shatner, Soupy Sales and various Detroit Lions, and who had Kwame Kilpatric as his schoolyard bully has more than a few amazing stories to tell. That Kwame! Playing the race card since 1979. At least he didn't kill the class flirt.

Mike met my mom and didn't run (er, roll) screaming for the door. He thinks I'm amazing, which is a lot to live up to.

I'll give it my all.