New Quote of the Week
Regarding the risks of anal bleaching--Valeska wondered.
"Can you put a price on your asshole?"
Kelly's response?
"Yeah, it's about a cab fare to Excaliber."
Classy...classy
Wednesday, June 29, 2005
Sometimes I Wish…
So tonight was lovely; an intimate dinner with Joy of coffee, sandwiches and cigarettes in the outdoors. I can’t even remember the last time we hung just the two of us—we spoke of jobs, our friends, her boyfriend, San Francisco and just enjoyed each other’s company. When I thought about why we hadn’t done this more; I saw that it was my own fault.
I realized that so much of my social life in Los Angeles is limited; not only by the car issues but by the games and the drama. There is a pecking order of sorts based on who’s closer to who, significant others, singles/coupled, and whomever is in the dog house. Sometimes I feel judged for the company I keep closest, for being single, for being male, for who my roommates are, for being gay. I hate that we all hold these things against each other and while some people have genuine problems, the rest of us are guilty by default.
The thing is, I believe that my life is filled is great people with big hearts and sensitive egos. I wish that we were all kinder to each other, more forgiving and able to see that some of things we hold against each other won’t matter down the road. I’m not saying I’m not guilty of the same faults but sometimes I wish we could all get past them. I think we would all be happier.
So tonight was lovely; an intimate dinner with Joy of coffee, sandwiches and cigarettes in the outdoors. I can’t even remember the last time we hung just the two of us—we spoke of jobs, our friends, her boyfriend, San Francisco and just enjoyed each other’s company. When I thought about why we hadn’t done this more; I saw that it was my own fault.
I realized that so much of my social life in Los Angeles is limited; not only by the car issues but by the games and the drama. There is a pecking order of sorts based on who’s closer to who, significant others, singles/coupled, and whomever is in the dog house. Sometimes I feel judged for the company I keep closest, for being single, for being male, for who my roommates are, for being gay. I hate that we all hold these things against each other and while some people have genuine problems, the rest of us are guilty by default.
The thing is, I believe that my life is filled is great people with big hearts and sensitive egos. I wish that we were all kinder to each other, more forgiving and able to see that some of things we hold against each other won’t matter down the road. I’m not saying I’m not guilty of the same faults but sometimes I wish we could all get past them. I think we would all be happier.
Tuesday, June 28, 2005
Monday, June 27, 2005
Starbucks is Known for Coffee, Not Fruit Cups or An Unlikely Flashback
Okay—here goes. Yes this is the evening where I almost bum rushed Joss Wheldon (the creator of such great shows such as “Buffy”, “Angel”, and the late great “Firefly”) in my haste to exit the theatre before his question/answer session. This probably earned me a spot in some creepy fan’s website as the guy who almost ran down the greatest writer ever. That all said—the following is the full story minus the celeb factor.
It started off in the most random of emails—Ava, out of the blue, wrote me to ask if I wanted to see a sneak preview of “Serenity” with her, Henry (name change people—can you figure out where it comes from?) and Penn up in Riverside. I was surprised by the offer, mostly because I hadn’t really been able to hangout much with Henry and Ava much as of late, due to a combination of car issues, single/couple tension and other small social issues. I do adore them both and was excited about hanging out with them—Penn not so much. Good guy but we have little to talk about.
We headed out early in the evening to Riverside, a fun ride due to traffic and various yawns from Henry, Penn and yours truly but as we got closer we grew more excited. There were the freaky fans lined up with costumes and party hats (It was Joss birthday.) and bad trivia games. Ava and I found this all quite amusing while the boys grabbed sandwiches for the three of them. I decided to go and see if Starbucks had any cheese and fruit plates—my favorite new junk food.
Alas this Starbucks didn’t carry them so I ended up grabbing a coffee, some chocolate covered graham crackers and a small fruit cup; a mix of berries, pineapple and cherries. I wolfed the food down in line as we watched the fans sing happy birthday with me feeling good about my smart dinner choice. I really didn’t think much of it.
I really should have. About half way through the film—which was good but really great if you’re a fan—I started to feel nauseous. Not kind of, not sort of, but full on sick to the bottom of my stomach. I debated leaving the film but really wanted to see how it finished so I forced myself to wait by telling my stomach “no”. The only long-term benefit from my teenage bulimia is the ability to get (or not get) sick unless I decide to; a control of gag reflexes usually seen in porn stars.
As the credits rolled I was up and out of my seat—doing everything short of running out of the theatre—leading to the near body checking of Joss. As I made my way to the bathroom my old routine clicked into place; hat off, shirt pulled off in a swift tug, hanging both on stall hook before the perfectly angled throw-up position guarantied to not get any vomit on me. Two short beats later I was done, rinsing my mouth out with water, gum to cover the smell and the outfit perfectly replaced. I was outside the theatre before anyone had the chance to leave.
Later that night—after a surprising debate about the film—I found myself at home brushing my teeth, rubbing my sore belly and thinking about the ease with which I handled things at the theatre. It’s been a while since I’d thought about ‘those days’; it amazed me the strength of what I remember and how little I forgot. The random places I threw up—in bathrooms pretty much everywhere—the times I picked—in between classes, on dates, at parties—and how even when I was caught I continued—despite my parents, bosses, even boyfriends.
So many people think that eating disorders are about loss of control—the inability to stop oneself from unhealthy behavior. I never saw my bulimia that way at all but instead as an obsession with control. The uncontrollable apart was my eating itself but the purging process was very nuanced with steps and patterns, a dance of sorts with mental relief at the end of the process. If it sounds like an overly romantic viewpoint, to a degree it is.
The swell of relief afterwards was like drug rush with adrenaline soaring through me, replaced with a sort of cleansed feeling. But, like a drug, this feeling turned into a needed craving; to the point that if I binged without purging I couldn’t sleep, concentrate or function. The most vivid of these memories was during my freshmen year of college when a friend suspected what I was doing so I tried to stop just long enough to throw her off and couldn’t sleep for a full two days regardless of how little I ate. I was never more scared in my whole life.
This was when I realized I had to stop completely, to retrain my body to stop seeing food as all or nothing and just as a necessary evil. I began to make the long journey to be okay with the fact that I will never be skinny, thin or at a ‘hot’ weight. I will always be chubby to a degree, cute with a larger build and not a room-stopping hottie. Which is okay most of the time.
I guess I was shocked at how easy it is for me to jump back to “the process”, the ease of which I can go into autopilot when it comes to throwing up and, more importantly, hiding it. I somehow assumed that as time went by I would be less able to do these things. But it is still a part of me, who I am, who I was and who I will continue to be. It’s just there, a place within myself that I don’t go but still lives. I guess I was just surprised.
Okay—here goes. Yes this is the evening where I almost bum rushed Joss Wheldon (the creator of such great shows such as “Buffy”, “Angel”, and the late great “Firefly”) in my haste to exit the theatre before his question/answer session. This probably earned me a spot in some creepy fan’s website as the guy who almost ran down the greatest writer ever. That all said—the following is the full story minus the celeb factor.
It started off in the most random of emails—Ava, out of the blue, wrote me to ask if I wanted to see a sneak preview of “Serenity” with her, Henry (name change people—can you figure out where it comes from?) and Penn up in Riverside. I was surprised by the offer, mostly because I hadn’t really been able to hangout much with Henry and Ava much as of late, due to a combination of car issues, single/couple tension and other small social issues. I do adore them both and was excited about hanging out with them—Penn not so much. Good guy but we have little to talk about.
We headed out early in the evening to Riverside, a fun ride due to traffic and various yawns from Henry, Penn and yours truly but as we got closer we grew more excited. There were the freaky fans lined up with costumes and party hats (It was Joss birthday.) and bad trivia games. Ava and I found this all quite amusing while the boys grabbed sandwiches for the three of them. I decided to go and see if Starbucks had any cheese and fruit plates—my favorite new junk food.
Alas this Starbucks didn’t carry them so I ended up grabbing a coffee, some chocolate covered graham crackers and a small fruit cup; a mix of berries, pineapple and cherries. I wolfed the food down in line as we watched the fans sing happy birthday with me feeling good about my smart dinner choice. I really didn’t think much of it.
I really should have. About half way through the film—which was good but really great if you’re a fan—I started to feel nauseous. Not kind of, not sort of, but full on sick to the bottom of my stomach. I debated leaving the film but really wanted to see how it finished so I forced myself to wait by telling my stomach “no”. The only long-term benefit from my teenage bulimia is the ability to get (or not get) sick unless I decide to; a control of gag reflexes usually seen in porn stars.
As the credits rolled I was up and out of my seat—doing everything short of running out of the theatre—leading to the near body checking of Joss. As I made my way to the bathroom my old routine clicked into place; hat off, shirt pulled off in a swift tug, hanging both on stall hook before the perfectly angled throw-up position guarantied to not get any vomit on me. Two short beats later I was done, rinsing my mouth out with water, gum to cover the smell and the outfit perfectly replaced. I was outside the theatre before anyone had the chance to leave.
Later that night—after a surprising debate about the film—I found myself at home brushing my teeth, rubbing my sore belly and thinking about the ease with which I handled things at the theatre. It’s been a while since I’d thought about ‘those days’; it amazed me the strength of what I remember and how little I forgot. The random places I threw up—in bathrooms pretty much everywhere—the times I picked—in between classes, on dates, at parties—and how even when I was caught I continued—despite my parents, bosses, even boyfriends.
So many people think that eating disorders are about loss of control—the inability to stop oneself from unhealthy behavior. I never saw my bulimia that way at all but instead as an obsession with control. The uncontrollable apart was my eating itself but the purging process was very nuanced with steps and patterns, a dance of sorts with mental relief at the end of the process. If it sounds like an overly romantic viewpoint, to a degree it is.
The swell of relief afterwards was like drug rush with adrenaline soaring through me, replaced with a sort of cleansed feeling. But, like a drug, this feeling turned into a needed craving; to the point that if I binged without purging I couldn’t sleep, concentrate or function. The most vivid of these memories was during my freshmen year of college when a friend suspected what I was doing so I tried to stop just long enough to throw her off and couldn’t sleep for a full two days regardless of how little I ate. I was never more scared in my whole life.
This was when I realized I had to stop completely, to retrain my body to stop seeing food as all or nothing and just as a necessary evil. I began to make the long journey to be okay with the fact that I will never be skinny, thin or at a ‘hot’ weight. I will always be chubby to a degree, cute with a larger build and not a room-stopping hottie. Which is okay most of the time.
I guess I was shocked at how easy it is for me to jump back to “the process”, the ease of which I can go into autopilot when it comes to throwing up and, more importantly, hiding it. I somehow assumed that as time went by I would be less able to do these things. But it is still a part of me, who I am, who I was and who I will continue to be. It’s just there, a place within myself that I don’t go but still lives. I guess I was just surprised.
Thursday, June 23, 2005
Life in the Big House
So I’m back at the house—the Big Brother house—for another exciting summer of houseguests, fast typing and summer camp fun. It’s my favorite job of the year with good people, good money, and good food. But it starts fast and furious with plenty of drama so while I can’t talk specifics about the show I can talk about feeling overwhelmed.
People were let go during training due to me and Sophie’s involvement and while it was necessary it was still hard to do and even harder to adjust to. Everything on the show is intertwined so losing one part meant all the over parts had to be stretched thin--meaning me and Sophie. It’s been long hours with huge responsibilities which is fine but very tiring.
Add to this mix a costly mistake where I had to stand up and get involved—making a choice that could have lost me a job but magically worked out and managed to make me look great with the producers. But it has been a rough ride thus far but I know that with people like Lola and Sophie having my back it will be fine. I just have to ride it out. And catch up on my sleep.
So I’m back at the house—the Big Brother house—for another exciting summer of houseguests, fast typing and summer camp fun. It’s my favorite job of the year with good people, good money, and good food. But it starts fast and furious with plenty of drama so while I can’t talk specifics about the show I can talk about feeling overwhelmed.
People were let go during training due to me and Sophie’s involvement and while it was necessary it was still hard to do and even harder to adjust to. Everything on the show is intertwined so losing one part meant all the over parts had to be stretched thin--meaning me and Sophie. It’s been long hours with huge responsibilities which is fine but very tiring.
Add to this mix a costly mistake where I had to stand up and get involved—making a choice that could have lost me a job but magically worked out and managed to make me look great with the producers. But it has been a rough ride thus far but I know that with people like Lola and Sophie having my back it will be fine. I just have to ride it out. And catch up on my sleep.
I’ve Never Been that Coordinated.
I’m doing something stupid—as an adult I should know better, much better. I know I should stop myself but being a silly Rory I just can’t shut of my emotions even when they will hurt down the line. Of course it is about boys. (Sighs abound.)
See—I’m juggling feelings, yearns, desires for 3 different boys. Each boy is a problem—someplace I have been before and should know better about but I can’t seem to help myself. Nothing will really happen in any of the situations and it is mostly due to me. I guess I should explain.
One is Chance—the boy from BB who I fell for last summer, shared some kisses and my intentions with and was hung up on for the rest of last year. I wish he was a bad person, did something bad, made me not like him. But he’s a good person, a kind person, a nice person and was so happy and eager to see me again—all I want to do is throw him against a wall and ask what happened, what I did, how to fix it. I just want to be over him—it’s going to be hard.
Then there is Jesse—cute Mohawk neighbor down the way who I have run into several times now. We have talked several times, I’ve been in his place, and I’m sure he’s straight. Been there, done that and though I’m not sure that he is—I’m steering clear. Even though he has dimples, a nice Mohawk and intense eyes.
Finally there is Derek—the latest problem. We’ve met on-line, we send cute e-mails, comment on each other’s pictures. He’s funny, smart and cute—all the parts I want in the right guy. (At least for dating.) The thing is, he lives kind of far away; not the creepy cross country way but far enough for me to have problems meeting up with him. So I end up kicking myself for getting drawn into a guy that I probably won’t ever meet and I spend my time trying not to care.
And it’s hard to try and juggling feelings for 3 boys that nothing will happen with because it’s stupid. I feel like I’m just making things harder for myself and yet I can’t seem to stop. Maybe I should just go into seminary or something. I do look good in black and God seems pretty good mate material—if not very monogamous.
I’m doing something stupid—as an adult I should know better, much better. I know I should stop myself but being a silly Rory I just can’t shut of my emotions even when they will hurt down the line. Of course it is about boys. (Sighs abound.)
See—I’m juggling feelings, yearns, desires for 3 different boys. Each boy is a problem—someplace I have been before and should know better about but I can’t seem to help myself. Nothing will really happen in any of the situations and it is mostly due to me. I guess I should explain.
One is Chance—the boy from BB who I fell for last summer, shared some kisses and my intentions with and was hung up on for the rest of last year. I wish he was a bad person, did something bad, made me not like him. But he’s a good person, a kind person, a nice person and was so happy and eager to see me again—all I want to do is throw him against a wall and ask what happened, what I did, how to fix it. I just want to be over him—it’s going to be hard.
Then there is Jesse—cute Mohawk neighbor down the way who I have run into several times now. We have talked several times, I’ve been in his place, and I’m sure he’s straight. Been there, done that and though I’m not sure that he is—I’m steering clear. Even though he has dimples, a nice Mohawk and intense eyes.
Finally there is Derek—the latest problem. We’ve met on-line, we send cute e-mails, comment on each other’s pictures. He’s funny, smart and cute—all the parts I want in the right guy. (At least for dating.) The thing is, he lives kind of far away; not the creepy cross country way but far enough for me to have problems meeting up with him. So I end up kicking myself for getting drawn into a guy that I probably won’t ever meet and I spend my time trying not to care.
And it’s hard to try and juggling feelings for 3 boys that nothing will happen with because it’s stupid. I feel like I’m just making things harder for myself and yet I can’t seem to stop. Maybe I should just go into seminary or something. I do look good in black and God seems pretty good mate material—if not very monogamous.
Tuesday, June 21, 2005
Monday, June 20, 2005
I See London I See France Don’t Usually Wear Underpants.
I don’t wear underpants—this is something that a handful of people know. (This is mostly due to a trip to Vegas and several stories that aren’t things I’m proud of.) I just don’t like the feeling of a restricted bottom but never say never.
Things started to change with the prom. I decided to go all out; the first year was all about novelty with a cute “newsies” inspired look and the second was all about the difference between chubby and flabby which was me. With the theme of Mardi Gras I decided to go retro Southern—what this meant I wasn’t sure. It wasn’t until I went out for something retail therapy that I found an answer. White pants—very Cajun/pimp like the old 7Up ads.
Of course it didn’t occur to me about how transparent these pants will be. Until I got home and tested the pants in Edie’s room and realized that in the wrong light you could tell a lot about the bottom and where it was bare or thickly carpeted. Not cool.
So this led to an underwear-shopping trip. Now for men there are four types of underpants—thong, jockey briefs, boxer briefs and boxers and for each I have an intense dislike. Thongs (or banana hammocks as Lizzie shrieked the other day) are just nasty and uncomfortable for multiple reasons; they ride up, they aren’t flatter for most people and seem like something Larry from ‘3’s Company’ would wear. Jockey briefs are something every man should give up after the age of 13—they ride up, they look like diapers, are worn by sweaty bible salesmen and nasty--unless you are Tom Cruise in “Risky Business”. Boxer briefs can be cute and are worn by models but look wrong unless you have the right body and are in portion—too long and they look like bike spandex. Boxers are just big, bulky and look like diapers under a lot of clothes—though seeing the tops of them over jeans can be hot.
My best possibility would probably be boxer briefs—even though I’m short (5ft7 baby) and look nothing like Marky Mark. (Now or then.) Off to the stores I went and hoping to find something that worked. The one thing I hadn’t considered was that there are new cuts of boxer briefs—particularly the square cut. Now you can’t really try on underpants so I risked the purchase and hoped that everything would work out.
And did it ever—the cut didn’t make me look too short or dumpy or feel too awkward. I danced all night without feeling constricted or wedge covered. In the mirror I even liked the way the whole package looked though I might need a second opinion. (If interested in giving one please write a 500-word essay explaining why you would make the right judge.) But this discovery has led me to be a little more covered—even though nothing beats being free and clear when it comes down to it.
I don’t wear underpants—this is something that a handful of people know. (This is mostly due to a trip to Vegas and several stories that aren’t things I’m proud of.) I just don’t like the feeling of a restricted bottom but never say never.
Things started to change with the prom. I decided to go all out; the first year was all about novelty with a cute “newsies” inspired look and the second was all about the difference between chubby and flabby which was me. With the theme of Mardi Gras I decided to go retro Southern—what this meant I wasn’t sure. It wasn’t until I went out for something retail therapy that I found an answer. White pants—very Cajun/pimp like the old 7Up ads.
Of course it didn’t occur to me about how transparent these pants will be. Until I got home and tested the pants in Edie’s room and realized that in the wrong light you could tell a lot about the bottom and where it was bare or thickly carpeted. Not cool.
So this led to an underwear-shopping trip. Now for men there are four types of underpants—thong, jockey briefs, boxer briefs and boxers and for each I have an intense dislike. Thongs (or banana hammocks as Lizzie shrieked the other day) are just nasty and uncomfortable for multiple reasons; they ride up, they aren’t flatter for most people and seem like something Larry from ‘3’s Company’ would wear. Jockey briefs are something every man should give up after the age of 13—they ride up, they look like diapers, are worn by sweaty bible salesmen and nasty--unless you are Tom Cruise in “Risky Business”. Boxer briefs can be cute and are worn by models but look wrong unless you have the right body and are in portion—too long and they look like bike spandex. Boxers are just big, bulky and look like diapers under a lot of clothes—though seeing the tops of them over jeans can be hot.
My best possibility would probably be boxer briefs—even though I’m short (5ft7 baby) and look nothing like Marky Mark. (Now or then.) Off to the stores I went and hoping to find something that worked. The one thing I hadn’t considered was that there are new cuts of boxer briefs—particularly the square cut. Now you can’t really try on underpants so I risked the purchase and hoped that everything would work out.
And did it ever—the cut didn’t make me look too short or dumpy or feel too awkward. I danced all night without feeling constricted or wedge covered. In the mirror I even liked the way the whole package looked though I might need a second opinion. (If interested in giving one please write a 500-word essay explaining why you would make the right judge.) But this discovery has led me to be a little more covered—even though nothing beats being free and clear when it comes down to it.
Saturday, June 18, 2005
Friday, June 17, 2005
When It’s Pretty I Remember Why
So yesterday was a little weird—for a slew of reasons starting with being hung over, carrying through an earthquake and leading to plans forgotten and plans badly done. I felt somewhat off the whole of the evening but then it worked itself out to something good.
The day started slow as I did the things I have to do—wake up, shower, get places, get on-line. I moved slowly and was quite reflective about a lot of things as of late; whether I’m moving forward with plan gay, thinking about work, contacting the people I felt I’d been neglecting. I was catching up on correspondence when I felt the earthquake come barreling through.
It was a weird moment—only because a beat before it happened I had a very strange sensation, like someone was creeping up and suddenly stopped; an eerie stillness. I watched as things began to rattle on my desk and in my semi-hung over state, it took me a beat to realize I wasn’t the one doing it. I just stood up and watched as the room jumped, jived and wailed for about 30 seconds and went back to work as if nothing happened. I was very unflappable.
I wish that this ability applied as well to other areas of my life—between overbooking myself socially and just feeling off—but the quake gave me a reason to claim nerves as opposed to just being a little jumpy. I eventually remembered that I was supposed to have coffee with Kirby and called her after my post-working shower.
We went to coffee and chatted to catch up on the various things we have been up to between prom and her trip back East. It was nice if a little off because of our recent tension. I know that we’ll be fine but we’re just pushing through it. I don’t think it helped that I suddenly remembered my drinks date with Kelly and the prom committee which caused me to have to end things earlier.
Drinks were at Yosimiro with Joy, Lizzie, Valeska and Kelly. We had fun and it was very ‘Sex in the City’ with a posse of pretty girls in a pretty location. Even with all the drama as of late I realized that things were better than I thought as I stared over the beautiful skyline from the hilltop bar. Earthquakes and tension and even drama just go away when you can see the bigger picture.
So yesterday was a little weird—for a slew of reasons starting with being hung over, carrying through an earthquake and leading to plans forgotten and plans badly done. I felt somewhat off the whole of the evening but then it worked itself out to something good.
The day started slow as I did the things I have to do—wake up, shower, get places, get on-line. I moved slowly and was quite reflective about a lot of things as of late; whether I’m moving forward with plan gay, thinking about work, contacting the people I felt I’d been neglecting. I was catching up on correspondence when I felt the earthquake come barreling through.
It was a weird moment—only because a beat before it happened I had a very strange sensation, like someone was creeping up and suddenly stopped; an eerie stillness. I watched as things began to rattle on my desk and in my semi-hung over state, it took me a beat to realize I wasn’t the one doing it. I just stood up and watched as the room jumped, jived and wailed for about 30 seconds and went back to work as if nothing happened. I was very unflappable.
I wish that this ability applied as well to other areas of my life—between overbooking myself socially and just feeling off—but the quake gave me a reason to claim nerves as opposed to just being a little jumpy. I eventually remembered that I was supposed to have coffee with Kirby and called her after my post-working shower.
We went to coffee and chatted to catch up on the various things we have been up to between prom and her trip back East. It was nice if a little off because of our recent tension. I know that we’ll be fine but we’re just pushing through it. I don’t think it helped that I suddenly remembered my drinks date with Kelly and the prom committee which caused me to have to end things earlier.
Drinks were at Yosimiro with Joy, Lizzie, Valeska and Kelly. We had fun and it was very ‘Sex in the City’ with a posse of pretty girls in a pretty location. Even with all the drama as of late I realized that things were better than I thought as I stared over the beautiful skyline from the hilltop bar. Earthquakes and tension and even drama just go away when you can see the bigger picture.
Thursday, June 16, 2005
Drinking Helps?
I’m amazed by my ability to drink vast amounts of hard liquor and not feel anything the next morning. As matter of fact I woke up and realized I needed to write first thing which is rare and random for many reasons. But I get ahead of myself.
So last night I went to Fuel to have a drink and be around the boys of Studio City for a handful of reasons; because of Chance and how he made me feel, because I needed to get out of the house, because I just found out that my days off from ‘Big Brother’ are Wednesday and Thursday so I wanted to see what the scene was like for a Wednesday. Nonetheless I made the scene and started slamming rum and diet cokes like Karen Allen in “Raiders of the Lost Ark”. Why, I’m not sure.
It’s weird to watch gay men in bars. I guess going places alone makes one more observant and so I watched the various groups as they talked and caught up and flirted across the bar. Though it was a slow night there was a vibe of ‘who do you know’ and ‘what group are you with’. I felt strangely alone but a part of things. I didn’t talk with anyone really but the bartender who was enjoying me slamming drinks.
After a bit I left the bar and made my way home—which is when things getting interesting. I decided I need some water and carbs so I made my way to 7-11. As I picked my way through the power bars and South Beach products one of my neighbors came into the store. Mohawk Boy—new to the building and someone that Jac and I have talked about several times. He’s cute and seemingly friendly and we’ve seen each other around the building several times.
As he was talking with 7-11 boyfriend (long story that I am ashamed off) I made my way up with my purchases (pizza because I was that crunked) and we struck up a conversation. Nothing huge but he was drunk to and so we chatted for a bit. I guess the conversation went well because he asked me to wait for him and we walked home together. And that talk went really well because he invited me into his place and we talked for quite a bit. Just talked (really) as I played with his dogs and briefly saw his other roommate.
Why is any of this important? I’m not sure but I feel a little less lonely. Maybe this is the start of the changes that I need. That opening up is helping me be more able to approach new things, which I need. Now whether we talk again or if it means anything at all will become obvious down the line. I hope it does.
I’m amazed by my ability to drink vast amounts of hard liquor and not feel anything the next morning. As matter of fact I woke up and realized I needed to write first thing which is rare and random for many reasons. But I get ahead of myself.
So last night I went to Fuel to have a drink and be around the boys of Studio City for a handful of reasons; because of Chance and how he made me feel, because I needed to get out of the house, because I just found out that my days off from ‘Big Brother’ are Wednesday and Thursday so I wanted to see what the scene was like for a Wednesday. Nonetheless I made the scene and started slamming rum and diet cokes like Karen Allen in “Raiders of the Lost Ark”. Why, I’m not sure.
It’s weird to watch gay men in bars. I guess going places alone makes one more observant and so I watched the various groups as they talked and caught up and flirted across the bar. Though it was a slow night there was a vibe of ‘who do you know’ and ‘what group are you with’. I felt strangely alone but a part of things. I didn’t talk with anyone really but the bartender who was enjoying me slamming drinks.
After a bit I left the bar and made my way home—which is when things getting interesting. I decided I need some water and carbs so I made my way to 7-11. As I picked my way through the power bars and South Beach products one of my neighbors came into the store. Mohawk Boy—new to the building and someone that Jac and I have talked about several times. He’s cute and seemingly friendly and we’ve seen each other around the building several times.
As he was talking with 7-11 boyfriend (long story that I am ashamed off) I made my way up with my purchases (pizza because I was that crunked) and we struck up a conversation. Nothing huge but he was drunk to and so we chatted for a bit. I guess the conversation went well because he asked me to wait for him and we walked home together. And that talk went really well because he invited me into his place and we talked for quite a bit. Just talked (really) as I played with his dogs and briefly saw his other roommate.
Why is any of this important? I’m not sure but I feel a little less lonely. Maybe this is the start of the changes that I need. That opening up is helping me be more able to approach new things, which I need. Now whether we talk again or if it means anything at all will become obvious down the line. I hope it does.
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
Chances Aren’t
I feel like a pussy. I knew it was going to hurt but I was expecting a pang or a tug on the heartstrings. Instead I feel like I had apart of me ripped out which I was expecting at all. And he did nothing to make me feel this way—instead he was kind and happy to see me. I wish he hadn’t been.
I know it was a couple of kisses, a couple of romantic nights—nothing was promised or guaranteed. We were both drinking—maybe he was lonely, maybe I was just there. I wish he would have done something wrong; hurt me so that I could believe he was a bad person or undeserving of my time.
But it’s not him so the problem is me. And I can’t wonder what that problem is and how to fix it. I do know I have to get over it soon than later. Get over him really. Time will help with that. Really.
I feel like a pussy. I knew it was going to hurt but I was expecting a pang or a tug on the heartstrings. Instead I feel like I had apart of me ripped out which I was expecting at all. And he did nothing to make me feel this way—instead he was kind and happy to see me. I wish he hadn’t been.
I know it was a couple of kisses, a couple of romantic nights—nothing was promised or guaranteed. We were both drinking—maybe he was lonely, maybe I was just there. I wish he would have done something wrong; hurt me so that I could believe he was a bad person or undeserving of my time.
But it’s not him so the problem is me. And I can’t wonder what that problem is and how to fix it. I do know I have to get over it soon than later. Get over him really. Time will help with that. Really.
Tuesday, June 14, 2005
In Case You Were Interested...
BoyFriend Application
Current mood: geeky
Name: Rory
Age: 29
Height: 5ft7
Weight: 187
Gay/Straight/Bisexual: Gay
Zodiac Sign: Leo
Location: Studio City
Occupation: Writer/Reality Television
Whats your best/worst qualities: Sense of humor/perfectionist
Are you a Virgin: Ha!
Do you Drink/Smoke or do and drugs, if so what: Drink/smoke
Have you ever been arrested: Not yet
Why do you want to date me: Cause you’re cute and kind
Why do you want to be my boyfriend: You seem kissable
Are you a top or bottom: both
What are your hobbies: writing/reading/gym sometimes
Favorite music: Pop/rap/alt
What sort of underwear do you wear: None
Do you fuss over looking good: Sometimes
Would you fuss over me looking good: You look good enough
What do you wear to bed: PJs
Which side of the bed do you prefer: Right
Would you take showers with me: Yes
Could you make breakfast: Nope
Favorite color: Orange
Play any instruments: Nope
Do you believe in love at first sight: I like to know the guy a bit.
Do you fall in love easier than most people: I don’t know.
Are you an emotional person: Sometimes.
Are you romantic: Yes.
Do you like to draw..paint..other art stuff: Not really.
Favorite movie: ‘Beautiful Thing’
Do you cry during sad movies: Been known to.
Are you spontaneous: Yes
Would you rather stay in or go out: Go out.
Do you like to be alone sometimes: Of course.
What do you feel is the most important part of a relationship: Talking/spending time.
What is the least important part of a relationship: PDA
What do you like about me the most: Your kindness and warmth
Whats your favorite feature on me: The eyes.
Why should I pick you: Because you want to.
What do you like best about me: The humor.
How would you make me happy: Depends on what you like,
If we started cuddling & stuff, what would you do: Enjoy the ride.
If i called you at 3 am & wanted to hang out because i was feeling lonely, and bored what would you do: Tell you to come over.
It's my birthday. i want a present. What would you do: Think about things you mentioned.
It's christmas and i want more than one present. What do you do: Same as above/just more
It's some random day and I really really want that new American Eagle or Vans/Sketcher whatever. Would you buy it for me: Depends on how much and how hot it makes you. ;)
How would you show me that you really like me, in person: Holding your hand.
If we got into an arguement..how would we make up: We agree to let it go and cuddle.
If i chose you to be my boyfriend..whats the first thing you'd do to me: Hmm—depends on the moment. Though a kiss is a good place to start.
What makes you so different from the other guys: I’m fun, smart, and have my shite together.
What is one thing you want me to know about you: I’m a very balanced guy—fun with a good heart.
Why do you think you would be good for me: I just am.
Where is one place you would take me on our first date: This cute coffee house and then to through the neighborhood to the Brady House.
What would we do together: Just enjoy each other.
After our date and you take me home...would you want to come inside and hangout with me: Yes—to talk and enjoy.
Could you deal with a boyfriend that wouldnt want to have sex with you: Depends on why.
How long would we wait before we make love: Depends on chemistry.
Why did you want to fill this out: To see where it goes.
BoyFriend Application
Current mood: geeky
Name: Rory
Age: 29
Height: 5ft7
Weight: 187
Gay/Straight/Bisexual: Gay
Zodiac Sign: Leo
Location: Studio City
Occupation: Writer/Reality Television
Whats your best/worst qualities: Sense of humor/perfectionist
Are you a Virgin: Ha!
Do you Drink/Smoke or do and drugs, if so what: Drink/smoke
Have you ever been arrested: Not yet
Why do you want to date me: Cause you’re cute and kind
Why do you want to be my boyfriend: You seem kissable
Are you a top or bottom: both
What are your hobbies: writing/reading/gym sometimes
Favorite music: Pop/rap/alt
What sort of underwear do you wear: None
Do you fuss over looking good: Sometimes
Would you fuss over me looking good: You look good enough
What do you wear to bed: PJs
Which side of the bed do you prefer: Right
Would you take showers with me: Yes
Could you make breakfast: Nope
Favorite color: Orange
Play any instruments: Nope
Do you believe in love at first sight: I like to know the guy a bit.
Do you fall in love easier than most people: I don’t know.
Are you an emotional person: Sometimes.
Are you romantic: Yes.
Do you like to draw..paint..other art stuff: Not really.
Favorite movie: ‘Beautiful Thing’
Do you cry during sad movies: Been known to.
Are you spontaneous: Yes
Would you rather stay in or go out: Go out.
Do you like to be alone sometimes: Of course.
What do you feel is the most important part of a relationship: Talking/spending time.
What is the least important part of a relationship: PDA
What do you like about me the most: Your kindness and warmth
Whats your favorite feature on me: The eyes.
Why should I pick you: Because you want to.
What do you like best about me: The humor.
How would you make me happy: Depends on what you like,
If we started cuddling & stuff, what would you do: Enjoy the ride.
If i called you at 3 am & wanted to hang out because i was feeling lonely, and bored what would you do: Tell you to come over.
It's my birthday. i want a present. What would you do: Think about things you mentioned.
It's christmas and i want more than one present. What do you do: Same as above/just more
It's some random day and I really really want that new American Eagle or Vans/Sketcher whatever. Would you buy it for me: Depends on how much and how hot it makes you. ;)
How would you show me that you really like me, in person: Holding your hand.
If we got into an arguement..how would we make up: We agree to let it go and cuddle.
If i chose you to be my boyfriend..whats the first thing you'd do to me: Hmm—depends on the moment. Though a kiss is a good place to start.
What makes you so different from the other guys: I’m fun, smart, and have my shite together.
What is one thing you want me to know about you: I’m a very balanced guy—fun with a good heart.
Why do you think you would be good for me: I just am.
Where is one place you would take me on our first date: This cute coffee house and then to through the neighborhood to the Brady House.
What would we do together: Just enjoy each other.
After our date and you take me home...would you want to come inside and hangout with me: Yes—to talk and enjoy.
Could you deal with a boyfriend that wouldnt want to have sex with you: Depends on why.
How long would we wait before we make love: Depends on chemistry.
Why did you want to fill this out: To see where it goes.
Sunday, June 12, 2005
The End of Prom
So prom came and went, kicking my ass along the way. It was very stressful this past week—feeling like there was so much to get done and no time to do any of it. Between the music, the photo booth, various odds and ends and all the plans to be made—just a rough week.
It makes me sad to realize that this was the last one—unless someone grabs the ball and runs with it. And with all the deejaying I was very unable to dance or mingle with the crowds. I felt rushed by the badly planned play list which was NOT my fault, the guilt of using Valeska’s computer and realizing that it was overloaded with music and just feeling like I didn’t do a good enough job with the backdrop.
So I just had a hard time at the event but after a few drinks I felt better. People dancing to music I wasn’t sure about, slow dancing with Glenda which was awesome and being able to just talk with the guests. I managed to take some deep breaths, win a spot on the prom court (and King though denied because you can’t win twice. Damn it!) and laugh for the camera.
Will I miss the prom? Of course. I love dressing up, dancing and cheap drinking with my friends. I love the moment of possibility that my friends have—the romance and the slow dancing. That we all get together for something fun and silly and are able to have fun. That Kelly throws the event just because she can and loves us enough to do. And while I have never had a great photograph taken but I always had at least one great dance partner.
So prom came and went, kicking my ass along the way. It was very stressful this past week—feeling like there was so much to get done and no time to do any of it. Between the music, the photo booth, various odds and ends and all the plans to be made—just a rough week.
It makes me sad to realize that this was the last one—unless someone grabs the ball and runs with it. And with all the deejaying I was very unable to dance or mingle with the crowds. I felt rushed by the badly planned play list which was NOT my fault, the guilt of using Valeska’s computer and realizing that it was overloaded with music and just feeling like I didn’t do a good enough job with the backdrop.
So I just had a hard time at the event but after a few drinks I felt better. People dancing to music I wasn’t sure about, slow dancing with Glenda which was awesome and being able to just talk with the guests. I managed to take some deep breaths, win a spot on the prom court (and King though denied because you can’t win twice. Damn it!) and laugh for the camera.
Will I miss the prom? Of course. I love dressing up, dancing and cheap drinking with my friends. I love the moment of possibility that my friends have—the romance and the slow dancing. That we all get together for something fun and silly and are able to have fun. That Kelly throws the event just because she can and loves us enough to do. And while I have never had a great photograph taken but I always had at least one great dance partner.
Friday, June 10, 2005
Words Get in the Way
So I’ve taken some time off from writing, blogging, and journaling—whatever you want to call it. I could say I was too busy with ‘things’ like camping or prom or Big Brother or a million other things. But none of that is true. I just needed a break.
Not from reflection but from putting it all out there for everyone. My last few entries were covering this process but were being misinterpreted. People were reading my words as signs of depression when they were just me working through my thoughts. It takes time for me to push through my issues, my problems—I’m not some one who jumps to solutions or action but rather tries to see things through before acting.
And what the problem was various people thinking I was upset or sad and approaching me about this and then I started to question if this was true which then made me depressed and turning into a mental circle jerk of confusion. So I just took some time to piece it together myself.
Have I figured everything out? Not yet but I know that I have time to do it. And a way for it to happen.
So I’ve taken some time off from writing, blogging, and journaling—whatever you want to call it. I could say I was too busy with ‘things’ like camping or prom or Big Brother or a million other things. But none of that is true. I just needed a break.
Not from reflection but from putting it all out there for everyone. My last few entries were covering this process but were being misinterpreted. People were reading my words as signs of depression when they were just me working through my thoughts. It takes time for me to push through my issues, my problems—I’m not some one who jumps to solutions or action but rather tries to see things through before acting.
And what the problem was various people thinking I was upset or sad and approaching me about this and then I started to question if this was true which then made me depressed and turning into a mental circle jerk of confusion. So I just took some time to piece it together myself.
Have I figured everything out? Not yet but I know that I have time to do it. And a way for it to happen.
Wednesday, June 01, 2005
Where I've Been
Friday I discover the glory of "Eurotrip" the film with Kelly and Lizzie.
Saturday I was accused of having been on "X" the night before by a kilted Scotsman. I followed that up with having a go-go dancer (male) half fall on me thus covering with dancer's slime. Though he did give me a dollar. Though it did come from his jockstrap...
Sunday was spent playing "Who's Dead Now--in the world of Broadway" with Kelly and her BBC friends. This was then followed up by Steve Perry karoke with a disturbingly hot college boy shaking (really skanky shaking) his ass to "Baby Got Back". That and Lizzie taught me the sign langauge for "group sex". I'm hoping that proves useful.
Monday was BBQ. Lots of food then late night beers with some other friends.
It's been kind of boring--really.
Friday I discover the glory of "Eurotrip" the film with Kelly and Lizzie.
Saturday I was accused of having been on "X" the night before by a kilted Scotsman. I followed that up with having a go-go dancer (male) half fall on me thus covering with dancer's slime. Though he did give me a dollar. Though it did come from his jockstrap...
Sunday was spent playing "Who's Dead Now--in the world of Broadway" with Kelly and her BBC friends. This was then followed up by Steve Perry karoke with a disturbingly hot college boy shaking (really skanky shaking) his ass to "Baby Got Back". That and Lizzie taught me the sign langauge for "group sex". I'm hoping that proves useful.
Monday was BBQ. Lots of food then late night beers with some other friends.
It's been kind of boring--really.
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