It’s an end of an era . 
So I got some really cryptic news via the one source that really means anything to most of us…the home bar is closing. Of course, you can’t get all your news from Facebook despite what many of us think.  I don’t check in that much anymore because of a few reasons.

1.  It’s stupid and nobody really cares what I’m doing on any given day.
2. At this point, it’s almost passé and everybody and their mother are now on it.
3. It’s really just another way to advertise stuff that you don’t really want or need anyway.
4. I still don’t understand why they always need to know my location.
5. Soon enough, this trend will be over and there will be something new that everyone will embrace.

Or will we?

Much like the technological cycle, Chaoz has most likely run it’s course. In the beginning, there was Chaoz and eventually we made order out of it all. That has much more meaning for me because I was here in the beginning. In May of 2009, I first darkened the door, albeit as someone who was:

And that is an undeniable truth or something like it. Way back then, I was a different person and he died years ago. If you know a transgender person, then that statement makes sense. If you don’t know someone like that, look around, and if you find one and be respectful towards them as their life’s trajectory has most likely been infinitely harder than yours so be thankful for what you have.

Chaoz is a place that I come to to find peace and that might sound strange but it really isn’t because if you have ever been here, you know that it’s true. In the beginning, it was a rough place and I tried my best to play the part. While I put on the act of being a tough guy, that’s all it was. After a year, the facade came crashing down…I still remember the day I talked with Mike about the change in my appearance. 

Ultimately, everything was cool that day. I was told not to worry about a thing because this (of all places) was safe and they held true to their word for a little while at least. Once, I came in and was told that there was an issue with me using the bathroom; in a bar, people need to use the bathroom, right? Maybe someday they’ll get it in Chicago but I seriously doubt it!

A simple task like using the bathroom takes on a whole new meaning for a transgender person. I’ll probably touch more on that issue later but for now, I want to talk about the home bar…that isn’t any longer and it won’t ever be again. When I started coming to this place, I was a different person as I believe so many of us were back then.  All it takes is a few years and you’ll see that people do change; trust me, I saw a few familiar faces tonight that I haven’t seen in years…still familiar but definitely changed. I have too.

How do things like this happen? What once was a rough and tumble roadhouse, has tamed over the years. I don’t have any problem being there or using the bathroom anymore. While some people when pressed might know the name I was once known as, for the most part, everyone only knows me as who I am today. Outside of this bar, nobody knows who I was, only who I am today and that’s really all I could have ever asked for. I will truly miss Chaoz as that was a sanctuary for me. 

Many times, I walked (and stumbled) out of that bar, but no matter how much fun (or alcohol) I had, I always paid my tab at the end of the night; I never skipped out, until tonight. After 7 years, the streak has been broken but it wasn’t my fault this time. Tonight the power went out and I don’t believe that it was because someone didn’t pay their bill. Tonight instead of handing cash over the bar, I gave them my phone number…this can only mean one thing: I’m going to wind up there tomorrow!

It’s probably for the best as there’s probably more people I can or should say goodbye to. On second thought, I think I saw this movie earlier this summer but that’s a very twisted tale that I still haven’t figured out yet and probably shouldn’t even try. 

I didn’t plan on making my way back down to Chaoz but I just might have to. Perhaps it’s a stay of execution. Maybe we’ll get another posting or maybe we won’t; I just can’t really say right now. If I don’t get the chance, I hope that you all had a great night filled with the sweetest of dreams.

Until we meet again,

Cyn

  
It’s closing time here on North Nordica. This house has been sold and it’s time to move out.  As it is after midnight when this entry is being published, today is the last day here, so it truly is last call.  We all know what happens when last call is announced…you belly up to the bar and get that one last drink, which is exactly what’s happening right now. If you’ve ever sold a house, you probably remember your last night there. While it’s not my house, I’m so very honored that I was invited to spend the last night here with my cousin B, who just so happens to be one of the best friends I’ve ever had. 

B is actually my second cousin and while we have blood in common, it’s really not that much. If you’ve read previous posts, you know that I’m adopted (and unless you’re adopted, you will never understand what that feels like and that’s a good topic for later discussion). While I can’t speak for every adult adoptee, I think there comes a time in life when you question your existence and want to know about your roots. This summer I turned the ripe old age of 40 and continued that search.  

A couple years ago, I finally met my birth mother face to face and that experience was less than exciting. I wanted to get to know my birth mother and have some kind of relationship with her but that was not to be. Maybe seeing her first born was just too painful for her and I can understand the cold shoulder that she gave to me. I don’t think anyone wants to be adopted as it really messes with your mind and development but more so than that, I’m sure that the main reason she and I are not communicating is because of the fact that I also happen to be transsexual…it’s a hard pill to swallow and I wouldn’t wish this degree of gender dysphoria on my worst enemy. 

After many months of pleading with her, she finally revealed the name of my birth father. I found him in a matter of seconds but it took me 2 years to muster up the courage to contact him.  On my 40th birthday I finally decided to write him a letter and 2 weeks later, we met for the first time. I am so happy that I was able to make contact with him and I should really give him a call soon as we haven’t talked in a month but sometimes you just have to take things slow. This post isn’t really about him though. 

One of the many strange things about being adopted is that the mother is usually searched for and found first. After all, we developed in her womb and that is a bond that shouldn’t be broken. The father is usually portrayed as someone who was there but not and is almost secondary even though he was responsible for 50% of our creation. It’s of little wonder why the birth father is the most silent of the adoption triangle…that is if you can call it that.

No dear readers, this is not a vignette about adoption although it might sound like it. This house in which I’m sitting in right now has become just that…a house. The couch that I’m sitting on is going out to the trash on Friday. Aside from a few cans of beer and a jello parfait (as a we remember my great grandmother who I never met), the fridge is empty. There are a few bins full of clothes that need to be sorted and some are going to storage. Other than that, it’s just B, myself and a large dog that constantly drools and sheds but we love him all the same. 

Lastly, the television is here because can anyone really imagine life without it? While I’m writing this, a rerun of Doogie Howser is on…fitting isn’t it? At the end of the show, Doogie will write on his computer about the lesson he learned today.  It’s always something brief but poignant. I think right now I’m doing the same thing. Just like on Doogie Howser, there is a lesson to be learned here and I’m slowly getting there. 

My birth mother did not want me to contact any of “her” family. However, what she failed to realize was that her family is also my family and I have every right to search out anyone that I want to. I’m so glad that I did because if I obeyed her command, I never would have met B and I would have lost out on a great friendship. Some friends come and go but this one is forever. Friends come in and out of your life so you should always cherish the time you have together because they might be gone tomorrow. Friends like B don’t come along that often and sometimes it’s a once in lifetime thing. Friends come into your life for reason, a season or a lifetime. The relationship that I’ve established with B is one of those lifetime things. 

The backstory on this whole thing is this: over a year ago I connected some dots, matched a name and wrote to B on Facebook. I said that I had reason to believe that we were related and if she was interested in a friendship, she should write me back. In case you didn’t know, when you send a message to someone on Facebook and you aren’t friends, that message goes to the “other” inbox which most people don’t know about. It took several months, but in September, B found my message and wrote me back right away. Later that night, we talked on the phone for several hours and repeated that for many days after as not only did we want to know more about one another, we had a lot of catching up to do. 

B and I have a unique bond. Her grandmother is also my birth mother’s grandmother. Every thing ties back to who we all call Gram M as she was the matriarch of the family…and it’s a really big family. My grandmother is Gram’s first born daughter. My birth mother is her first born granddaughter. B was born as a result of afternoon delight and is Gram’s youngest granddaughter. I’m Gram’s first born great granddaughter, so I’m really the first born of the first born of the first born which I think is pretty cool.

B and I are 13 months apart in age and among all of the grandchildren and great-grandchildren, the 2 of us are kind of alone because everyone else is either a lot older or a lot younger. B and I are Gen X through and through. In our first conversation, I figured out that had I not been given away, we would have grown up together. Her reply was “we would have been in the same playpen together.”

Going back to the house, this small place is where all of my birth mother’s family used to gather on holidays. Of course I wasn’t here though because I didn’t know any of them and spent all my holidays with my family. This little house on North Nordica so much more than a house…it was a home…a home in which one of my aunts and uncles raised their family of 5 children. Because I’m adopted, I missed out on all of those times and memories but luckily, I found B and now I have some memories of this home that I will never forget. Even though I have 2 bulging discs in my lower back which is causing a lot of sciatic nerve pain, the summer of 2015 has been one of the best ever because I’ve spent most of my free time in this house with B.
I worry about the future sometimes and I know B does too. Later today, we will lock the door on our way out for the last time. As we were moving some of her stuff to storage yesterday, she said “things are going to get better.” I admire that optimism and I hope she’s right. This was her home and she spent 41 years here…and that’s a lot of memories. It’s a tough thing to leave but eventually all things must come to an end and I know this is going to be very hard on her. I’m so grateful for our friendship and because she asked me to be here with her on the last night she’ll spend in the only place she’s ever known as home. We all need that proverbial hand to hold on to and I’m more than happy that I can be here for her.

It’s now very late (or early depending on how you see it) and it’s time to wrap this up and put it in the memory book. I have to get some sleep because there’s a few more things to move out of here. In the end, while I searched for my birth mother, I think I found exactly who I was supposed to find in B. I don’t know if my birth mother will ever come around and I really don’t care if she ever does but as Doogie Howser wrote in his journal a little while ago “the truth only hurts when you don’t tell it.” Maybe my birth mother will learn that lesson someday? I don’t know if shes strong enough to do that but right now I have bigger fish to fry. I just popped the top of my last beer of the night and it’s time to go so I’m going to sign off for now but I’ll leave you with this:

Is it? I suppose some would say it is because it’s more that they can dream of and many others that would just look at mine and laugh but then there’s so many more out there that will never ever understand what it’s like to live in the world that I do. All in all or for the most part I guess you could call it this:

One thing that I’ve learned in my finite time here is that you’re never to old to learn something new.  

I was at a funeral today…I hope that’s not a typical thing for you because it ain’t for me either. The point is that I relearned something today and it was something I already knew; sometimes it takes a funeral to find your way back home. For reference, see this:

 http://youtu.be/KEFa1f_WCms

The day started out no different than any other but it was different. I dropped the minivan off for some service, then went home, got ready and went to the same church I was baptized in. It was my uncle’s funeral today. We all gathered at Redeemer, had the service and followed in procession to Bronzewood. I was in the 4th car. We laid my uncle to rest then off to Butterfield for the reception. After that, I raced back to the mechanic, paid my tab and went to the dealership. They drove me back to the car I was driving in which case I went to my aunts house who is now a member of those widows club just like yours truly. 

From there I was invited to the after party. First at Tracy’s then off to Ward Manor which is quite impressive…and these people consider themselves to be part of the family too. Some of us even say they are and I hope to someday too but the biggest surprise just came in the meantime.

I’m adopted and not happy about it. In the last few days, I turned 40 and wrote a letter to someone on that day. It took a week but earlier today, my father wrote me back.  Sometimes I guess it takes a funeral to find our way back home and I’m looking forward to finally getting to know the man who was responsible for bringing me into this world.

I guess all that leave’s us with is tomorrow an on that note, I leave you with this:

I don’t know about you but I’ve burned a lot of them…time to rebuild and cross them again, right?

So, I just got the call this morning and am still a little numb if not more so than when the call came through. My very small family just got a little smaller today as my uncle just died less than 24 hours ago. The news wasn’t so much of a surprise as is was expected but then again, when it finally happens, all proverbial bets are off and now it’s time to try and find the good times and celebrate the life of someone who we hope has gone on to a better place…and maybe, hopefully, he has although there’s no way of knowing for sure.

Maybe there isn’t anything else afterwards and this one life that we all have, is it? I’m not really sure about that either. I suppose that the one question that we all have to ask ourselves on a daily basis. While Miles has just left his earthly confines, the question really boils down to what do the rest of us do? 

Personally, I’ve been through this before but still I can’t begin to understand what my aunt is going through. I was only married for 10 years and we didn’t have any children; Carol and Miles were married for 50 years and had 3 childeren, one of them who didn’t even to make it to 35…he was pretty messed up but somehow we all overlook that and remember him for the good times…I really miss my cousin Matthew sometimes…it was a life cut too short, too soon, kind of like my wife’s. At times like this, I miss her more than ever although I know better than anyone else that she wasn’t perfect either…none of us are but that’s a different story altogether and I can thank my nephew for paraphrasing this:

All in all, it probably doesn’t matter to almost everyone else because deaths in the family are supposed to be a personal time, right? Maybe it’s true; that which doesn’t kill us inky makes us stronger and I think that I can finally say that it takes a death to finally make your way back home. Personally, I used to fear that man like he was a god or something like it. Well, he wasn’t a god and my little family just got a little bit smaller today. 
and I played this on the jukebox because ultimately we all are, right?

Live well my friends and don’t worry about tomorrow because that will take care of itself.

Hell week has begun! At least that’s what I call it because it is for me, it’s May Day.  For the last few years and 7 if you want to be exact, this marks the beginning of a season in my calendar year.  To further understand that one, you must think of a season as a period of time and not winter, spring, summer, and fall. It’s more like a religious season which can last anywhere from a few days to a few months.  If you subscribe to Christianity, then think about  the seasons of lent, advent, Easter, epiphany and the like. (It should be noted that I do not recognize those seasons as I recognize my own and that’s what this is about…your seasons may vary.

At this time, we are discussing the season known as Hell Week which is part of the greater season of Hell Month which is not in any way a calendar month but rather a period of time that goes from roughly May 1 to the Sunday that comes after June 8.  This season happens every year. It was once a time for celebration but now it is no longer because one of the principle parties is no longer with us. She has transcended into nothingness and is no longer bound by her mortal confines.  She was once one half of an equal partnership but is no longer. She is not of this earth anymore. She has not reached a higher plane of existence as there is no higher plane of existence. This life is the only one that any of us get. Once it’s over, it’s done and we are to be interred back to from whence we came…ashes to ashes, dust to dust, and the like.

I’m so sorry to paint such a grim picture but that is the truth and sometimes the truth really hurts.  If you, my dear reader, are one of those whom believes that it will get better in the afterlife, I regrettably need to inform you that tomorrow is not promised for anyone and that also includes me. In full disclosure, I’m not at all clairvoyant nor do I claim to know what’s going to happen in the next minute, hour or day. I come to you all speaking a truth that I have come to know which is backed by years of miscellaneous research that no one else that I’ve found seems to conduct.  I urge you all to do your own research and find your own truth.  

If you are looking for truth here, you’ll get a version of it but if I were you, I wouldn’t take my word for it. While I can recite many facts, I will never, ever claim anything that I say as truth in the absolute. For it is up to you, dear friends, to uncover the truth for yourself.  Forget what the church tells you as they have their own agenda. Use the scientific method and find your truth. I will guarantee that your truth might differ but the differences aren’t that much at all.

Eventually, you will see that what they’ve been telling you is based on nothing but their own motivation to control you. 

It’s time to break free my friends,

Cyn

Seriously, I really don’t!…and I’m woman enough to admit it!

In my own experience, I’ve found this fact to be true.  It never ceases to amaze me how screwed up we all are. 

I don’t think that we should continue down this path; Do you?   

Would you like to change it up…and I mean really change it up?

Where do we begin? The last few days have been quite, well let’s just call them days because that’s all the were and now there gone and done with and Reverend Doctor Cyndi is winding down all by her lonesome at the home bar because, well, it’s the home bar and she comes here to relax and leave the world behind because that is the whole reason for the home bar’s existence…well, that and to make money for Mike and Gigi.  While M&G do make a lot of money owning this place, they deserve every penny because it’s more like they are doing some sort of backwards and roundabout kind of community service in the owning of this place and all the chaos that occurs here which is probably why this place is called Chaoz but then again maybe not because chaos is bad because there’s no order whatsoever which is kind of like anarchy which also sounds like a great idea but then the less than intelligent people hear something about it then pervert it to suit their needs and the real people who actually know what social anarchism is actually supposed to be about, suffer while having to abide by bullshit laws put in place in an effort to idiot-proof our society because I don’t know about you, but that’s an impossible task because there’s just too many of them out there.

Ultimately, what was once a great idea morphs into Molotov Cocktails and mass violence or basically in a word: Chaos, or rather Chaoz because lately we find it to be a lot better if we change one letter to really fuck with people because the English Language is really difficult and there are a lot of bullshit rules that go along with it and RDC does her best to butcher it in her own way but then again, doesn’t because all of her posts are just a string of run-on sentences that somehow come together as one thought or something like that but I digress because that’s not what this whole thing was supposed to be about in the first place.

The point of this blog entry is about the stories we get from dealing with old friends if I can call them that insomuch as to say that I might have considered some of these assholes to be friends at one point and time but then realized that I was a much better friend to them as they ever were to me and when the chips were down and RDC had to make some changes in her life for the better, they were nowhere to be found so ultimately they had to be cut loose because just like the Queen of Rock and Roll proclaimed, “you don’t lose when you lose fake friends”…and that’s ultimately what they were, so no love lost here.  

As for here, let’s go back to Chaoz just because every story has a beginning and in the beginning there was chaos until something exploded from out of nothing and I know that you’re probably thinking that totally violates the laws of astrophysics but that’s the story we’re all led to believe as the truth unless you’re one of those screwy people who actually believe there was some all knowing deity that lived in the nothingness and decided to create a bunch of shit for his own amusement because we all know that something is better than nothing; or so they say. Of course to a lot of the less educated, that story sounds so very wonderful because they like to think that the world is only 5000 years old and man and the dinosaurs used to be friends which is no way possible because I’ve seen Jurassic Park, and I’d have to say it’s pretty dead on in its assessment of man-dino relations because it’s not like The Flintstones and we didn’t used to ride these things because roughly 65 million years separated our respective existences, and on top of that, if you’ve ever thought that a T-Rex would make a good friend, you’d be wrong; actually you’d be dinner or rather a light snack and the T-Rex would go on looking more of your friends, as only then it would seem more like a meal because we’ve all been to 50 cent hot-wing night and we all know you have to get at least 6 because you can’t just eat one, nor will the bar sell you just one and that special never happens at the home bar anyway, because they don’t have that special which is why I go to a different bar on Tuesdays and while that sounds chaotic, it’s not Chaoz at all.  

Isn’t it wonderful how RDC is able to begin her story at the dawn of time and bring it full circle to present day?  Y’all are so very welcome! I’m here to help. Let’s get back to the story: last Thursday I wound up at the home bar again…I know, I know, it’s seems rather odd for me too, but that’s where it went down as it usually does. I started the night with some wings and talked to one of the servers who was there on her off night just hanging out because it’s just a cool place to be and far better when I darken the door with my presence. Not long after the night began, I noticed an ex-girlfriend but snubbed her because she was there with her boyfriend and I just didn’t want to get involved. A short while later, she came up to say hello and asked why I didn’t say something first.  Why? the answer probably has something to do with the fact that we used to fuck five years ago and then it was over and she went back to the dumbass because they had “history” together and I was just a fling that she still thinks about and I’m pretty sure regrets her decision as she’s stuck with him and I’ve moved on.  After a brief exchange in which this was said, the conversation was over…or was it?  Not exactly.  As beer and jäger-bombs tend to do, nature called and it was off to the restroom for some relief. I did what I had to and when I got out of the stall, there she was. As there was some confusion as to why I was in the bathroom, I explained that I have a letter which gives me every right to be in there.  Somehow the old memory overcame us and we realized we were alone and then proceeded to start making out right there in the ladies’ room.

As she was pinned up against the door as so nobody else could come in, I realized that a piece of wood was all there really was between us (both back then and now if you catch my meaning) and her dumbass boyfriend just outside, holding his stick and clueless as to what was going on a few feet away.  I hold no shame in this and it’s not my fault that his girlfriend is a slut but I guess the moral of this vignette has to be: ignorance is bliss…and it’s not just him either because there’s a lot of ignorance out there in the world and maybe we shouldn’t rock the boat too much and just let all of the morons out there be blissful in their ignorance because they’re better off not having to deal with the fact that there are some truly intelligent people in the world and they are not one of them.  

Lucky for you, you have followed along  with this so far and can count yourself as being intelligent too, and you should count your lucky stars that you possess that trait.  Sometimes being smarter than the masses can seem kind of lonely but you have to trust me on this one; better to be who you are than to dumb yourself down in order to get along with the masses. 

So there’s some food for thought for you. Sometimes the teachings of RDC go kind of long and I think that’s enough for today. Well, that, and were out of time for now but check back tomorrow and we’ll conclude this twisted tale because there’s a lot more to come and this was only last Thursday night.  Besides that, these things take time and Reverend Doctor Cyndi’s divine thumb is a little tired of typing now.  

Have a great night and see y’all later!

First off, if you fall into this category, the only advice I can give you is to cut your losses, move on and get a life.

I come from a place in that if my ex is stalking you right now, you have much bigger problems going for you because my ex is DEAD and has been so for the last 7 years…but what about yours? I’m sure it was supposed to be much different but it wasn’t. That person saw your flaws and couldn’t deal with it. If you want to know why that relationship failed, all you have to do is look in the mirror. It’s not totally their fault. Most of the blame is on you. Deal with your own shit and get on with your life on your terms.

Doesn’t it sound so simple??? Why is it so problematic? Sometimes in life we all fall into this predicament…even Reverend Doctor Cyndi. Why can’t we let go of our previous loves? Was it the personality? Was it money? Was it just a big dick or a sweet piece of ass?

Love strikes is all when we least expect it. Will you take that chance?

In addition to the blog here, I also cohost an Internet radio show/podcast called:

The Best Morning After Ever

The show stars my friend John St. John.

John and his lovely cohost tackle all kinds of topics and we put our spin on as to try and make people laugh. The best way to describe it is a morning zoo crew show. We have a lot of fun doing the show and we hope to build an large audience and get on terrestrial radio some day. As for now we can be heard mornings on:
Slam Internet Radio
Spreaker
iTunes

This page is currently under construction and I will try and post some links sometime soon