High points and Hotlanta

Visiting Euro-wonder boy B. has returned to his normal digs in eastern Europe. I hope he had a good visit! It was great to get to know him, to spend time with him, and to listen to him.

I'm not always a good listener. Sometimes, my motor-mouth (and brain) get going to such degree that the running commentary on everything becomes non-stop and everything said needs correction, advice-giving, a history lesson or language lesson. See what I mean?

One of the great things I am grateful for in B's friendship is that he told me to hush and listen. I was embarrassed when I realized what I'd been doing. I never let him finish telling something before I'd have to jump in with advice. Hah. As if I knew. . . . .

Thanks, B, for the honesty. That shows me you love me enough to engage in the hard stuff: confronting someone. Indeed, I want to listen better, and you helped set me on that path.

We had a day at eastern America's highest peak, Mt. Mitchell. There's a picture here somewhere.

The trip to Atlanta to return B to the airport was eventful and fun. After stopping by the wonderful LGBTQ book store OutWrite (where we purchased more books, especially some titles by Michael Thomas Ford) and a bite to eat, we went to the Atlanta Eagle. I'd only once been dancing at a gay venue - in fact, a year ago in Atlanta - and wanted to go with B. So away we went. It was early for the crowds which was a good thing. Thursday nights have rather bad reputation for "misbehaving" at the Eagle (so I'm told) and we weren't looking to get into any "trouble." The music started a little early and we spun and twirled and danced around in the lights. Great fun. Amazing fun. Indeed, life is too short not to dance.

The place began filling up, and the hour was late. Off to bed at friend W.'s house, our kind host.

On Friday, B. got on the plane back to Europe. I was sad to see him go. I miss you, buddy. We hope to re-connect here next year (before his visa runs out) or with me going there. That means I might need to plan ahead. Daunting task, that.

Saturday on my own, I visited the Atlanta Botanical Gardens. Gorgeous (dare I say) fabulous orchids and a display of sculpture by Henry Moore.