World's Bossiest Bottom

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Jeremy Rye
Major Gifts Officer at Center for Constitutional Rights

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Solstice

The day that I have longed for so much has finally arrived. And I have arrived. Back in New York, six months to the day. Safely. Changed some in the core of my being. Oh and tanner, with longer hair and 7 pounds heavier (thanks Eataly).

But this journey isn’t over. Not until I see my brother.

I write this as the plane is taxing to the terminal. Sobbing. A bit ridiculous looking to the other passengers. But I can’t help but feel a release.

WE did it. And I say we, because I have carried so many with me in my heart, and could not have done this without the help and support of so many. Ferling Utterly Grateful. Thank you for carrying me.

And I’m grateful that I’ll get to taste shake shack soon!

A few more stories to tell later. But for now, NYC, this bitch is back.

Xo

WBB

Follow my adventure around the world: @worldsbossybttm & Worldsbossiestbottom.tumblr.com

Gesendent mit meinem iPhone.

Please excuse any tipos or shrthnd. I never used to finish anything but now I

1

Follow my adventure around the world: @worldsbossybttm & Worldsbossiestbottom.tumblr.com

Gesendent mit meinem iPhone.

Please excuse any tipos or shrthnd. I never used to finish anything but now I

1

Follow my adventure around the world: @worldsbossybttm & Worldsbossiestbottom.tumblr.com

Gesendent mit meinem iPhone.

Please excuse any tipos or shrthnd. I never used to finish anything but now I

4

Follow my adventure around the world: @worldsbossybttm & Worldsbossiestbottom.tumblr.com

Gesendent mit meinem iPhone.

Please excuse any tipos or shrthnd. I never used to finish anything but now I

7

As I write this now, the sun is rising in Bermuda. What looked like the
foggy mist of “The Neverending Story’s” The Nothing, the Atlantic meeting
the horizon, has burned amber as the sound of coqui are beginning to be
muted by the chips, songs and yes, some squaking, of birds and the start of
the islander early morning commute of small cars and mopeds whizzing around
the island.

I’m utterly exhausted. It’s amazing how I can find new ways of being tired,
and how I’ve learned to sleep and function on less. I think I might be an
adrenaline junky and that’s how I’m getting through these days, hence a
current mantra of “sleep when i’m dead.” I started writing this at 5:30am.
My clock is 4 hours ahead, and though I could of attempted to lie there and
toss around, I opted to just get up because early morning light helps you
reset. And so I’m working on adjusting to this timezone. Plus
constapation/bloating from my flight yesterday (being nothing but honest
here) has kept me up. But I am finding peace and quiet and some stillness
(it’s not just my bowles) and inspiration to write, now, when I’ve just
been so Gay-D-D and on the move the past few weeks, trying to savor each
moment, place, and person I meet.

Life is good.

A life lesson learned yesterday for me, as an aspiring parrent (goddess
willing): When you have a potty mouth, you really shouldn’t give your
daughter to her guncle and then surprise him. Especially after he’s seen
dog on dog violence. Curious? Let me try to upload the video that Fabian,
“The Dog Father” of Bemuda, took in a bit. something for you to look
forward to.

The past few weeks, I’ve been told by others how to do this journey, to
close it out. I’ve gotten messages as of late from some folks asking me why
I’m counting down. Doing so is mistaken for not being in the moment. But I
can be in the moment, and still look forward to setting foor in New York.
It ain’t nothing but a thang or a chicken wang for me to do so. My reality
is that I have to do this count, because it gives me something to look
forward to. I carry such mixed emotions these days. Extreme gratitude for
the love and hospitality that’s been showered at me, an amazement at how
much my heart can hold and how I can love every single place that I’ve been
to, and so many people. I especially feel this after being with family in
Berlin and England/Brittain/The U.K. (depending how you look at it). And I
also hold sadness at the same time. Traveling at this rate has left me
little time for mourning. There is an undercurrent of grief each time I
leave a place, each time I have left people I have connected with, and as I
exited Honolulu, Manila, the Punjab, Kampala, Berlin and London, a sadness
of leaving family and friends. Because who knows the next time we will
occupy the same space. Survival—the sure necessity of continuing to push
forward into the unknown of new places, has not left me time to process
those feelings. Thankfully, the good outweighs the bad. And as my wifey
Emily wisely pointed out to me, sometimes that’s the case with life: there
sometimes ins’t time for mourning.

There is also a new fear: Reentry. In London, I went to a TK Max, what we
in the states call TJ Max. Coorperations and their alter egos made for tax
purposes. Bah. It was interesting for me to experience a department store,
as I really hadn’t been in one like that for a while (I mean it was a lot
different than being in the Zara in Rome—that was really gay and I was
crusiing boys there but was confused by the Italian men), but then a wave
of anxiety hit me for a moment as I was in the midst of the junior men’s
section. And it wasn’t the fashion! It was a realization that there is so
much that I have left behind in what was my ordinary life (e.g. work
(routine), commute, grocery shopping) and just as it was a lot of work to
give that up, integrating that back into my life, with who I am now, when
severe abnormality has been my norm, can seem a bit daunting.
I choose to move onward and forward, and to
consciously step into this fear now. Plus my budget and body are giving out
on me too (can I get some bionic knees please and then star in the reboot
version of million dollar man?), and so it’s time to go home. And one of my
dearest friends leaves NYC four days after I arrive—I cannot miss him, so
that’s another important reason to get back. But even when I return to
work, and when I return to NYC, this journey hasn’t ended. It ends when I
get back to CA. More on that later. I’ll send you the invitation.

In the next few days, one of my hosts here, Topaz, is due to give birth.
She is a Boxer and is uncomfortably carrying at least 2-3 pups. Hey, maybe
I arrived and am having sympathy pains. If so, I’m over that and she can
both push out our respective extra added weight. Just as much as I’m so
incredibly grateful to be with my wifey Emily here, my Fabulous brother
(the above mentioned Dog Father) and my niece that I have missed so much on
this journey, Nalani, who I have known (about) since she was a pumpkin
seed—I mean I went through the whole pregnancy with her mama and papa and
even did a successful prayer that I believe aided with her conception, and
then really went the extra mile by going through sympathy abstinence (for a
time) with her parents when she was in the womb. So I will be grateful for
sympathy temporary bloating over abstience, because I’ll take the former
over the latter any day. I’m really excited to be here when Topaz
pops—its just something so neat and wonderful that will be so unique on
this journey.