R.B. Winters's Blog: Rent (minus) Control, page 3
November 23, 2018
Let’s Be Sensitive
I am a hermit when it comes to the real world. I am happy to workout alone, eat alone, sit home alone. Even now, I’m standing in the kitchen while I cook and write…blissfully alone. The internet, web, whatever it is these days, is one place you can’t really ever be alone once you log on.
Seeing as it is impossible to be online and alone, you have no option but to see what is happening in the world, near and far. Near is becoming something of a problem, or at least a nuisance. It’s hard to say exactly when this shift took place, but somewhere in the last 5-10 years it took root, and now it’s out of control. What am I referring to? Ultra sensitive people. I despise them.
What makes this movement of sensitivity worse, it has infiltrated places that were once impenetrable. New York City was a haven of assholes who said, felt and did as the pleased. Now, it is overrun with the thinking that we have to be sensitive to every feeling and person out there. Do not be confused, I’m not saying to treat people poorly with intent of doing so. I am saying when it comes to things like comics and online commentary, it’s all just fodder which we should not take at all seriously.
I miss the days when you could tell someone where to stick it, and it didn’t turn into an online witch hunt or life altering event. Now, if you say anything which remotely offends anyone, you’re likely to turn into a viral monster and be punished. Opinion is no longer allowed.
All of this is coming about as I consider if it’s even worth the effort to continue blogging. 5 years ago my writing was much more interesting. Why? Because there was no fear of offending every single reader. This movement of forced sensitivity is making it more appealing to disconnect and walk away from these people.
November 11, 2018
Speeding By…
The last twelve months have been crazy hectic, with more change packed in than there’s been in a long, long time.
Having been dating Baltimore for a little over a year now, I’ve been splitting my time between Baltimore (the place) and Puerto Rico. Puerto Rico is obviously superior, if only for the constant sunshine and warm temperatures. Though, I did leave my cat (Muffin) in Baltimore with Baltimore (the person). It’s officially the first time in five years I’ve been entirely alone. Which is lovely, yet a little weird…
Add to the dating and puss-free life, a career shift. After nearly ten years with the same company I finally felt secure enough to make the leap. The new company is based in Seattle, bringing about an entirely new set of challenges. Beyond being a completely different industry than I previously worked in, there is a four hour time difference between myself and the home office. This seems like no big deal, but when the work day is ending at 9:00 PM it throws off the entire day. We’ll see how I adjust to the schedule, but I can affirm this was the best career choice at this time.
This is obviously not one of my most exciting blogs to date. Honestly, I’ve not written a single word in months. This is an attempt to revitalize my fingers and mind, return to writing, and finish one of the two books I was working on before taking a hiatus. So, with all the change, I’ll try to restore a little of the old and familiar. I have most of the winter to to settle in Puerto Rico and focus on writing! Assuming there are no unanticipated changes around the corner. I mean, these days it seems like the one thing I’m good at is doing the thing I like least – changing!
August 11, 2018
More Pressure, Please!
In retrospect, this is the official summer of change. I gripe on often about how everything with people seems to change every two years. Well, things which don’t change, for me, with much regularity have been turned on their side.
It all began early in the year when I started sending out resumes. After a decade of the same company, a career which started as grunt data clean up, ending with a fancy VP title, I was ready for a change. With this company I had security, and likely could have stayed until the day the owner decides to retire or sell. The problem, aside from being so ingrained in the work that I could perform in my sleep, there was no trill left, no challenge. Every single day was the same step and repeat.
Credit to anyone who has gone through the job search and interview process. I sent out hundreds of resumes, literally. For the small number of replies returned, there were many wishing me well with their disinterest. I did find a place to start a new career, far far away on the West Coast. It wouldn’t be me if there weren’t unusual circumstances. It seems my fate to never live in the same city as the company for which I am employed. Happy to shed the VP title for something more down to Earth, I’m getting a rather heavy dose of reality. Do you know what it’s like to go from knowing everything about a business to virtually nothing? It’s a kick in the sack for an overachiever. Feeling stupid is the worst! Even if I’m told to lighten up on the intensity I place upon me.
If a career shift, and learning an entirely new industry weren’t enough, I sort of moved. As previously posted, I’m shacking up with Baltimore in Baltimore. [I know, the nickname needs a rework.] The intent, to rent my place in Puerto Rico. It’s a little weird living between two places, one being home, the other not feeling like it’s really home. Oh! Let’s not forget this is the first time I’m cohabiting. Living with another person is weird. They are there all the time. Like – all of the time. No alone time. Anyone else get edgy if they aren’t alone for several hours a day?
All of these are good things by conventional standards. I’m sure most people would be happy with the job, the relationship, a place to live. I am, but also, it would kind of be nice to be the crazy kid running around NYC for a little longer. Everything is so serious now. It’s work and life, life and work. It’s probably too late to opt out of adulting at this point. Bring on the next life pressure!
August 5, 2018
PC Insanity
When I first moved to New York the shift to a politically correct society was well underway. It seemed to be fueled by the crazed amount of obscene reality television taking over the airwaves. NYC felt like something of a protective bubble when it came to this movement of ideology. A place where it was completely acceptable and commonplace to tell someone what you thought, throw in a few colorful words and possibly a hand gesture. No one, at least no one I witnessed, was ever offended. They might have their jaw on the floor, but they weren’t offended. Where the hell did that world and group of people go?
Now, it’s possible becoming a recluse on a small Caribbean island could have lead to me missing some things. About the time I moved to this corner of the world, I also began to change my relationship with social media. A majority of my posts contained only cute photos of cats and pugs. Nothing political, nothing in the news, no sharing chain posts or other garbage. My life also became devoid of television news. With no antenna, and only Netflix to provide me show options, I was left out of the daily shootings smeared across the screen.
While I was enjoying blissful blinders to reality, the world shifted views. Suddenly there are fifty new movements and dozens of new rules. You can’t judge anyone, you can’t comment on anything, you can’t give an honest reaction. If you do any of these things you become a bigot, a racist, are ignorant or just wrong. Add to these things that every little act is being turned into a political debate…even when a number of these things have nothing to do with politics. Oh, and let us not leave out religion. The weapon of the ages, once more being used to polarize the masses into fighting among themselves for the perceived greater good.
For all of this “change” by movement being forced upon us, nothing is changing for the better. From what I observe, more people than ever before are vocal about how much they hate every other person, to which the movement people react and point out how wrong those initial people are, to which the original hateful people react that it’s their right. A circular cycle of insanity doing no good and making no change whatsoever. Perhaps this really is all political, and the clever politicians have crafted this war of sides to gain votes and push agendas. I don’t believe any of them are that intelligent, but think as you must.
I believe there was more purpose, change and importance in a simple ‘fuck off’ from someone on the sidewalks of New York ten years back, than there is with all of this supposed political correctness and “change”.
August 4, 2018
Where’s the Blow Up?
I’m a talker about most things. Like every other human being on the planet, I share my opinions when and where I can. Usually online to people I will likely never meet. Isn’t that the safest way? Say your peace, close the laptop and move on to the next gripe. That’s an issue for another post. Let’s stay on track.
The last three months I have been staying in Baltimore with Baltimore. Maybe giving someone a nickname to match their city wasn’t the best idea. Alas, this is not a move in my mind. The idea came from wanting to maximize my condo in Puerto Rico and revenue from AirB&B. It’s much more difficult to rent a single room versus an entire apartment. Thus, Baltimore and I hatched the idea of me coming to Baltimore for an extended stay. Note, I’m writing this from the dining room table in Puerto Rico! I will be returning to Baltimore (city and person) in a few weeks for another three month stay.
This still doesn’t answer the question(s) I am attempting to jot down. See, my friends are a bit baffled by my sudden shift in relationship status. To go from extended single to semi-living-couple-person is rather unusual. I have to agree. If we add one more cat to the household we may actually qualify as lesbians. I’m aiming for a dog, two cats is enough…especially when they’re both huge assholes. Our lestastic status will have to wait.
The question I’m asked on repeat, “How’s it going living with Baltimore?” I always respond promptly that we are not living together. Though odd, it’s a status I’m not comfortable with at the moment. How is coexisting in the same space for extended amounts of time? [Do you like how we get around the phrasing ‘living together’?] It’s actually not bad. I, like most people who know me, thought it would be an all out war for control of the house. It’s rather calm and boring in actuality. To me, it’s really Baltimore’s house and I’m a guest. This means the crazy part of my brain isn’t triggering. Do I like where a chair, plate, plant, etc. are placed? Maybe not, but it truly doesn’t matter. I have my own home, own stuff and own rules. He can set whatever rules he likes in his home.
I know, I know, where’s the dirt? Sadly, I have to admit there’s none. I may actually need to begin commentating on other people. Baltimore and I are both lame enough that we don’t really fight or argue. Unless he pulls the wrong thread, I’m still pissy at the end of the day and happy to rip a head off. Baltimore rolls with the punches, and it’s out of character for most gay men [I know]. He doesn’t antagonize, and without this common feature [I’m guilty of performing] there’s really no drama.
At the moment I can say we are floating on placid seas. For now…
April 22, 2018
Off Limit Lips
It’s safe to say most people can get into trouble after a few drinks. You have a couple of cocktails, maybe you’re at a bar or house party, you become the loose lipped life of the party. One or two people, mainly those not partaking of liquid joy, judge from a corner where they nipple on nuts and crackers. The majority of people laugh or forget you. It’s so common, I’d say anyone reading this has probably experienced this firsthand.
For me, it’s no different, but even when alcohol is not involved I tend to get into trouble. Recently I was on a flight from San Juan to Baltimore. It was one of those rare flights where I was upgraded to first class and it wasn’t some kind of computer error. In first class you are pampered with booze from the moment you take your seat to the announcement of landing. There’s a meal in there at some point, though no one is in it for the airline meat and potatoes.
On this particular flight there was a gentleman seated to my left. Being in first class there are only two seats per each side of the aisle. I do well to not engage with fellow passengers. I mainly want to get on, maybe do a little work, watch a movie and enjoy my vodka. My neighbor was on a completely different wave length.
He tried simple ways to engage, asking a question about the television, then how to open his tray table. I responded, but kept my headphones in as to not let him think conversation was on the itinerary. Well, until I went to the restroom. You see, when I went, he then went, and now I was stuck waiting for his return as he would need to climb over me.
In the split second of his arrival and me once again sitting, the neighbor of mine strikes up a conversation. It may have been three too many vodkas or the retail side of me, but I engaged and now we were full blown conversation. We spoke of literally nothing worthy of note, so let us jump to the point. Out of the blue, my neighbor, this complete stranger leans in for a kiss. Not a Euro peck on the cheek, he went right for the lips and landed.
As a personal space loving human I was stunned. This had never happened on a plane before to me. Was this the first class way? People booing and seat swapping saliva? As I pulled away the hint seemed to be received and he leaned back into his seat where the remaining thirty flight minutes were lengthy and silent. It does make me wonder what he had in mind for an end game. Certainly we weren’t going to be climbing into the bathroom stall.
The moral of this story; If you meet a stranger on a plane and they converse with you, it’s most likely not flirting, but a polite person hoping you will shut your fat mouth.
April 1, 2018
Go Feel Yourself
Feelings. Ugh. They are one of those things some people are full of, some people are really good at managing, others are great at expressing. Then there’s me. I kind of hate feelings. As in, can’t stand them.
This came up recently when Mr. Baltimore said a simple statement, “I miss you.” This isn’t a life altering something, but it’s enough to make the wheels in my head turn in rapid succession. A normal person would likely repeat the sentiment and be on their way with a gleeful feeling. Not me, of course. No, I pause, consider what has just been said and then reply with, “Okay.”
It seems like no big deal, but even this simple comment triggers the flight response in my brain. It’s not an ‘I love you’ or something of great substance, but it does mean you’re letting someone peer behind the wall when said. It’s a gateway emotion, the marijuana of sentiments. Going a little further, this is the type of thing people can’t wait to hear. People start dating, and then they want all those things on the list: miss you, love you, marry you, hate you. Okay, they probably don’t want the last one, but it seems to creep in more often than expected.
Actually, hate and anger are the only emotions/feelings I’ve conquered. There is no issue telling a person I dislike them, why I dislike or what I perceive to be the issue. Anger doesn’t make you vulnerable, it makes you bitter and leathery inside. In New York, it came in especially handy in the winter, it’s like free internal fuel to keep you warm. Memories.
Mr. Baltimore is getting a pretty good sense of my limited emotional depth. We shall see how long he tolerates it before I have to do the other thing I’m not fond of…change. Then again, I suppose I could continue to bottle up any emotions that come and live out my many remaining years with a farm of cats and pugs. That doesn’t sound so terrible.
January 31, 2018
12 Years a Single
[cs_element_section _id=”1″][cs_element_row _id=”2″][cs_element_column _id=”3″]
I remember fondly when I wrote about dating and all of the amazing disasters associated. Then time passed and dating turned into dates. More time passed and dates turned into flings. Even more time passed and flings turned into random encounters stretched over even longer periods of time. Eventually it became more about social network cat photos than anything else.
I’m about to blow your mind. In October, while I was in the states escaping the joys of life sans electricity, I met a boy. Technically, a friend of a friend knew a boy and then coordinated with my friend to get us in the same place at the same time. We all know how straight people think every gay likes every other gay. In this case it actually turned out to be true. Oh, those crafty heterosexuals.
We met, had a few weeks of casual dates and innocent sleepovers before I returned to Puerto Rico. We keep all the sunshine down here and it’s too damn cold to stay in the states by November arrives with its wicked temperatures.
Then Mr. Baltimore blew my mind…he boarded a plane and came to visit me in Puerto Rico. Now, my bitter and jaded people can relate here, I assumed he was coming for the warm weather and lovely beaches. However, he seemed to be genuinely interested in me. It was the oddest of things.
Fast forward to January and we’ve been in constant contact and I had to travel back to the states for work. Guess where I ended up staying? Of course, with Mr. Baltimore. To shock you even more, we had one of those moments where he dropped hints of wanting to know what we were so I of simply asked. I’m not much for beating around the bush…this isn’t Central Park.
As simple as asking the question and receiving an answer we began dating. Or in high school terms, we’re going steady. We will be putting this to an immediate stress test as we are heading to Spain in three weeks. I’m hunting for apartments and practicing Spanish, while hopefully not hiding a body.
Let’s see if we remain the funny gay nerds or turn into crazy gay bitches. More to come…
[/cs_element_column][/cs_element_row][/cs_element_section]
January 2, 2018
In Your Mouth
[cs_element_section _id=”1″][cs_element_row _id=”2″][cs_element_column _id=”3″]
I noticed on social media a lot of the people I’m connected to bitching about New Year’s Eve. I’m not one for resolutions, I don’t care enough to make any, but I’m surprised how many people complain about one of the few fun “holidays” where you aren’t required to buy anything for anyone.
I find NYE rather enjoyable. Even when I nearly kill myself via consumption. You see, when I came home to Puerto Rico from Baltimore a few months ago, I felt really disgusting. While away, there wasn’t much ability for exercise, other than an occasional run. Add ten days of being sick, cold temperatures, and drinking/eating way, way too much. #Bad
Unlike a NYE resolution, I came home and decided to have a fitness overhaul. Motivation isn’t an issue, I do like the gym, as long as there are no other people. Group workouts and people are the worst. Anyway, hitting the gym hard wasn’t enough, I needed to dial the alcohol consumption down. Which I did.
So, on NYE I didn’t start drinking with friends until after 7:00 PM. Knowing we would probably go out after midnight, I wanted to hang and not die. Things were off to a good start, until I switched from wine to vodka. Well, the switch wasn’t the issue, as I didn’t want a wine hangover. Who needs that kind of head pain in the morning. A friend made my second and third vodka based drinks…which was pretty much vodka with a splash of soda. Add a midnight champagne toast for good measure. #Drunk
I was feeling really good when bar time arrived. I failed to share with the group I get terribly car sick when alcohol is in my blood. I can get nauseous on a good car ride, add booze and it can be deadly. Fun fact, I have puked down someone’s dress in a cab. But that was a solid twelve years ago. Luckily the ride was short, but the damage was already done. Entering the bar, we reached the back and there was a lurching of my stomach. Rather than puke on some poor soul’s shoes I rushed outside. Now, Old San Juan is rather densely populated with buildings and people during holiday time. Being classy, I wasn’t about to vomit in front of strangers. Somehow, I managed to walk over a mile home and explode in the comfort of my bathroom. #Death
The next morning, feeling properly wretched, I forced myself to at least do the day’s cardio. Considering I’d been so bad the night before, I needed to punish myself. Oh, did I suffer. Twenty minutes into the run, vomit found me once more. Being mid run, there was nothing to do but mouth vomit and swallow. So, so wretched.
Why share this rather disgusting tale? Because this is proof that even as we age we’re really just tired versions of our young messy selves. Feliz Año Nuevo!
[/cs_element_column][/cs_element_row][/cs_element_section]
December 31, 2017
While You Were Gone IIII
[cs_element_section _id=”1″][cs_element_row _id=”2″][cs_element_column _id=”3″]
It’s a bit funny, or perhaps interesting is a better phrasing, how so many things become true over time. When you’re young and people tell you time will pass quickly as you age. It’s crazy true. Time is flying by, faster and faster. It seems like we just did New Year’s Eve, and the New Year’s Eve before that. Alas, here we are once more, and as is tradition, I shall give you a lowdown on what’s transpired.
Today, I released my second novel of 2017. Which marks my ninth in total, and fourth since your passing. It is the first time I’ve ever completed and released two books in a single year. These two being somewhat more meaningful as they were individually started two and three years ago. Finally, they are out in the world.
Books aside, I think the trip to Italy was the highlight of 2017. There is something about seeing locations, monuments and all the things once only available to me in history books come to life. I want more Europe in my life, and tomorrow marks one year down, four to go, until I fully intend to move to Spain. Fingers crossed they get their civil issues under control before then.
Within all the fun and games, which seem to be less time consuming and interesting as I reflect, there is the one dark spot of 2017. The hurricanes. Honestly, it’s a good thing you’re gone, else you would have had a stroke. I can now say I’ve lived through back to back storms, category three and four. The time offline was a bit of a stretch for my sanity, but having no contact with the world, I can only imagine how that would have gone over for you. Be glad you missed this, it wasn’t fun, and I hope everyone is correct in saying another storm of such magnitude won’t come for twenty years. I think they’re wrong, believing in global warming and such, but one can hope they aren’t.
So, you didn’t miss all that much this year. Nothing life altering has taken place. You’ve missed the everyday, bullshit that is life. Which is probably the worst part to miss, because isn’t that all life really is at the end of the day? Anyway, there is a party to get ready for and a bucket of coffee to consume to ensure I’m not in bed by 10:00pm. Okay, one thing changed this year, I started requiring a huge amount of sleep to function. It’s the best thing ever.
[/cs_element_column][/cs_element_row][/cs_element_section]
Rent (minus) Control
- R.B. Winters's profile
- 6 followers
