As I’m writing this, it’s my fifth re-birthday. Just. I should have declared my re-birthday to be the day I woke up from my week-long coma (which would be almost a week from now), but I chose my re-birthday as the night I literally died–twice!, and that’s right now. So, happy re-birthday to me. I have never cared for my actual birthday, but I’ve gone from hating it to being truly neutral about it.
My re-birthday, on the other hand? I’m all about it. I have nothing but the warmest feelings for it, and I loudly proclaim it when it comes around. Hell, why not?
That’s not what I want to talk about, though. I have a much more sobering post for today, but it’s related, somewhat, to my medical crisis.
I used to be a member of the Balloon Juice community (political website). This was before the Obama days, and into his first term. Maybe longer? I really liked most of the regular commenters, and it was a great place to talk to other lefties. I was still probably one of the most left-leaning as ideological, I am very far left. At heart, though, I’m a pragmatist. I would rather get half of what I want actually passed into law than nothing. To a certain extent.
One person had the ‘nym Yutsano, and we became fast friends. We were both queer (he was gay, and I was/am bi), had a very dirty sense of humor, and clicked on several levels. I called him Yutsy, and he called me wifey. He was gay, but as he said, who doesn’t like boobs? He praised mine to high heaven (likening them to pillows), which always made me laugh.
I don’t remember how we decided to get fake-married–probably as a way to protest the inanity of the whole marriage equality debacle, er, debate, but we had a great time with it. The whole site was in on it, and we brought another gay guy into our fake family. Yes, we were a fake-throuple before it became a thing.
Yutsy and I kept in contact after I drifted away from Balloon Juice (politics were starting to really weigh me down. Ironic given what’s happening now). Any time BJ’s proprietor posted a picture of his cat, Tunch (who was the blog’s mascot. I have merch with His Royal’s roundness on it), Yutsy would tell them that the proper authority had been notified (me) and then message me.
He was much better at keeping in touch than I was. I’m not good about it, especially since my medical crisis. He would reach out every now and again (three-to-six months), but I had not heard from him in much longer than that.
I gave up completely on Twitter when it became the social media platform formerly known as Twitter, and I barely used Facebook. I had a Bluesky, but I rarely checked there, either. In fact, after my medical crisis, I effectively gave up on social media. So if he wanted to reach me, it would be through FB. I did check my messages there, but that wasn’t how we normally communicated.