265/365: Bernie #2

Brother-in-law to my gay friend. Pretended to be nice, but couldn’t stand XX. Didn’t want any of the fag’s things to go in his house after XX died, but he made an exception for the expensive Oriental rugs. He destroyed his daughter by so undermining her self-esteem throughout her life she has never believed in herself, though she’s an attractive, brilliant woman, and fantastic parent.

264/365: Nancy #2

An older woman I’ve met recently. She has a delightful, delicate sense of humor, but is very serious about everything. She has many stories to share and all of them embellished with flowery details. Always with a lot of tiny pieces of paper on which she’s made notes so that she doesn’t remember the points she wants to make. She refuses to learn the computer!

263/365: Michelle #2

She is my mother’s goddaughter, who was deprived of oxygen at birth and has mental disabilities. She’s in her 50s now. I only saw her once, at a party, when she was about 10. She was remarkable in that she could remember every single person in the room by looking at the cloth of their dresses once, though she never made eye contact with anyone.

262/365: Frank

I always thought of him as my uncle. He was by far my favorite of the family in-laws. I thought we had something special between us. But when he and my aunt divorced and I wrote to let him know that didn’t change anything between him and me, I got a short note essentially saying “don’t call us, we’ll call you.” Never saw him again.

261/365: Mitch

He was a TV legend when we moved here, the host of a popular daily children’s program. I didn’t meet him until many years later, long past his cartoons days, but what a delightful man he was. Now 86, still performing and armed with an endless supply of stories about his days performing in the golden age of Broadway, with the likes of Katharine Hepburn.

260/365: Leah

She was the aunt to my first boyfriend and was the one who introduced him to me. She lived in a tiny underground apartment next door to us and I remember that she had a Manx cat (breed without a tail), who, as I recall, was not very friendly and not only scratched me a lot, but even scratched Leah. Haven’t seen her in years.

259/365: Diane #2

We met when she flew into town to help out during Finals Week (our biggest typing week). She was friends with the woman who owned the business, but she and I hit it off and we have remained friends all these years, while her friendship with the owner dimmed. She is as much of a crazy cat lady as I am a crazy dog lady.

258/365: Miriam

She is a long time journaler (has been journaling so long that I don’t call her a “blogger”) whom we met in person in London. Her journal details her trips around the world and is absolutely fascinating. We met at the church of St. Thomas in the Fields and had coffee in the café which is in the crypt under the church. Very nice lady.

257/365: The Vicar

We met him on a canal boat trip up the Thames from London to Oxford. He could have stepped out of a 40s British film, he was so stereotypical. Delightful 88 year old man, who called himself the “errant vicar.” He took the cruises often and was a great source of information. But he cheated at Scrabble, which we played in the galley at night.

256/365: Joe

He was like a father to my father, who worshipped this old Italian gentleman. I don’t remember much about him, except his sitting slouched in a chair with a cigar in his mouth, and I couldn’t understand his thick accent. He owned the building where we lived in San Francisco and was appalled when my father painted over a mural that was in the kitchen.

255/365: Doug

I look at this man with a wife and daughter and I can’t picture the 10 year old kid who lives in my mind. Son of a friend of my parents. We would go visit them and I would try to play a game with his brother, and he was the pest who wanted to butt in. He’s turned out to be a lovely gentleman.

254/365: Laurie

Her talent could have been predicted when, at age 4, she sat at Gilbert & Sullivan performances and mouthed the words to all the songs along with the actors. Now she is a lovely woman who is probably pushing 50 and has directed opera productions all over the world, including the Met, the San Francisco Opera, and houses in Italy. I am proud she’s my friend.

253/365: June #2

A woman from the Isle of Wight who seems to be stalking me on Facebook. I swear I get invitations for various Facebook apps 10 times a day from this women, despite the fact that I ignore every single one of them. I wonder how so many total strangers can add me to a “best friend” list when they know nothing at all about me!!

252/365: Rachel

This beautiful redhead was about 2 years old when I first met her. Now she is a delightful, talented young woman who is on her way to making a name for herself in theater, especially in the world of opera. Her uncle, who was a musician and my best friend, would be so incredibly proud of her if he could see what she has become.

251/365: Nancy

For many years I avoided her because she made me uncomfortable, but once I got to know her I realized how much we had in common and how much I enjoyed visiting with her. I laugh a lot when we’re together. She travels a lot , so we don’t see each other that often, but it’s always a delight when we are able to get together.

250/365: Priscilla

Known to readers of my blog as “Grandma.” She was another AIDS client and I just loved her and we became friends, but she got to where she began taking advantage of my hospitality and demanding that I drive her long distances to visit her son in prison, or her mother, who lived about 2 hours from here. I finally had to stop taking her calls.

249/365: Mary #3

For a year or more I drove clients with HIV or AIDs to appointments. Mary was my favorite. She was the longest living AIDS patient in the group and had contracted it through transfusion. She could be very depressed, but also very nice. She was very picky about the people who drove her, but she and I hit it off right away. I miss her.

248/365: Ester

She was the queen of the office (or acted like it). A strange little woman who could be simply wonderful, or get her feelings hurt and sulk for days, like my father. We didn’t interact too much, but mostly I enjoyed her. She reminded me of my grandmother (which would have killed her, since she was my age and very, very sensitive about getting older).

247/365: Tipper Gore

Does shaking someone’s hand qualify as “knowing them”? Tipper Gore gave a talk to a group of PFLAG people in Washington, DC and afterwards she shook hands with many of us. My friend talked to her about her gay son’s suicide. I just thanked her for coming to meet with the group

246/365: Bill #6

The bane of my existence for so long. The man had an uncanny ability to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. And he’d stay. And stay. And stay. It was a relief when he moved across the country, but he would send voluminous (multi-page) Christmas letters. It was a relief when he stopped sending them, though I wonder what happened to him.