My high-school typing teacher had a rule: never begin a letter with either “I” or “Thank you”; she said that either would betray the writer as unimaginative and unable to construct an interesting note. I had a lot of respect for her (at least, until I found out she gave a campaign contribution to David Duke during his 1991 run for governor), and I’ve tried to keep her dictum in mind.
When I started this blog, a few years ago, it was because I thought a blog would be easier to maintain, and thus keep friends updated on what’s going on in my personal life, than a regular website. I’d already proven myself incapable doing that. Needless to say, it’s not much easier, as the sometimes huge gaps between posts here attest.
Naturally, then, writing an “about me” page is even more problematic. Where to begin? What should I include, what should I leave out? And how do you start an “about me” page without opening with “I….”?
OK, so I figured a way around that. I still don’t like lots of sentences that start “I am” or “I like”, though, so I’ll have to find other ways to convey the same information.
As should be evident by some of my postings, I’m an early-middle-aged gay man of 46, quietly settled down with my, um, slightly younger partner, Jonathan. The two of us met in December of 2004, began dating long-distance, and fairly quickly realized we belong together. Don’t ask why. Jonathan moved down to be with me in May of 2005 and we’ve been in one form of domestic bliss (or some approximation thereof) ever since.
Despite the difference in our ages, we manage to share a goodly number of common interests, while at the same time enjoying things of our own. Birding bores Jonathan to tears, for instance, while most of his video games leave me baffled. Although we often get away for the weekend together, and we’ve taken some longer trips together as well (to Washington and to San Francisco), we sometimes opt for separate vacations so that we can explore our own interests (me birding, him roller coasters) without annoying each other.
One of my greatest pleasures is the fact that my staunchly Roman Catholic family has accepted Jonathan with open arms. My parents make a point to include him in all family events, including Christmas presents, when it would be easy for them to quietly snub him. Jonathan’s own parents are both deceased, and he has no brothers or sisters, so it’s really nice that my parents and my sisters (and their husbands) have accepted him so openly. My nieces and nephews even call him “Uncle Jonathan” and nobody bats an eye. What more could I ask for?
I’m luckily on good terms (and in reasonably frequent contact) with my two exes from the 1990′s, Brett and Glenn. There are a couple of other folks without whose friendship I’d be lost – notably Cowboy Dan, at the Lake Douglas Ranch; Guy, from downstairs; and Robert, my good friend in New Orleans who introduced me to Jonathan and who has helped us in so many, many ways over the years.
We live in Baton Rouge, Louisiana – our poor, pathetic state’s capital city. It’s my hometown, and it’s not a horrible place to live – but there are many, many better choices out there.