Wednesday, August 31, 2005
Return of the Joe
And I’m back!
Wow. What a long, strange trip it’s been! Seriously…I’m absolutely exhausted and worn out, but I feel excellent! I’ve found that when I’m super busy, I’m also really happy as well. Since last week, I’ve had plans with different people every single day. I’m never home and I’m constantly meeting new people, which is great, but it sure takes a lot out of a guy!
This weekend in Pittsburgh was unreal. The mansion I stayed in was by far the nicest place I’ve ever been invited to. I’m talking the “White House” meets the “Trump Towers” kind of nice. There were about 10 gay guys not including Mark and me. Of course, I stole the show with my good looks and charm. Heh heh heh. Going through this experience made me realize that I can navigate my way through any situation. I didn’t know ANYONE there and I still managed to be myself, make a lot of jokes, and even win over a few of the guys. I may have “won them over” too well as I went through a couple of situations where I had to explain to a 62 year old and a 45 year old that I wasn’t interested in them romantically. One of those situations got so uncomfortable that Mark literally had to rescue me from it. And considering that he’s 4 inches taller than me and outweighs me by a good 50 pounds, no one really messes with the Mark. He was my knight in shining armor when it came to that shit.
All in all, Mark was a wonderful host. He treats me with undying respect and looks at me with these clear blue eyes that just seem to go right into my soul. Without crossing the line, he was able to be romantic and sweet. I also found him to be incredibly interesting and fun. To say the least, I was pretty smitten with him while we were together.
Now, the people of Pittsburgh were a different story. I’ve never been called “Cracker” so many times in a 48 hour period. But I guess that’s better than being called “fag”, so I’ll take it. We were warned by the residents of Old Allegheny to “get our asses off the street” before we “got a cap plugged into us”. You don’t need to ask me twice…I ran back to the beautiful mansion as fast as I could…never turning around.
The weekend was one I won’t soon forget. I learned so much about who I am deep down and I was really proud of the way I conducted myself with both Mark and the other guys. I came back brimming with confidence, and also puffy eyes from complete lack of sleep.
Last night I went out with the Marketing Manager from Fox and we had a blast. It was the first time we’ve ever hung out and I was incredibly impressed with him. He made me two copies of the commercial and I got to tell you…it came out so well. I look good in it and it’s so fast paced that you barely have enough time to tell that my hair was cut WAY too short. Once I learn how to make a copy of this shit, I’ll send a few of them out, so you can see them. Hey…maybe I’ll even post it on this website. Yeah…as though I can even figure out how to put a picture on this shit.
This weekend I’m off to Long Island to spend some time with my most favorite girls from college. My best friend, Rita, will be there and she’s about three months away from giving birth! I can’t wait to see her and to rub that bulging belly. We’ve both been so busy lately that we haven’t had a free second to catch up and this weekend will finally be our chance. I can’t explain how much I’m looking forward to seeing all the girls, but most importantly, my Rita Lovely. Reunited at last!
In other news, I’ve never been so busy at work in all my life. I was promoted this summer and once the school year started, I lost my mind completely. Hence, this being my first post since I returned from the weekend. I never get a chance to email anymore and personal calls are just non-existent. So if you’re waiting to hear back from me in one way or another...I’ll get to you. It just might take some time. Eh…you’ll understand or I’ll punch you in the twat. And then I’ll laugh as I call you “Bloody Twatty”.
Speaking of work…I must now go back to tend to the beast that is my existence. I hope you are all holding up well! Much love your way my friends!
And I’m back!
Wow. What a long, strange trip it’s been! Seriously…I’m absolutely exhausted and worn out, but I feel excellent! I’ve found that when I’m super busy, I’m also really happy as well. Since last week, I’ve had plans with different people every single day. I’m never home and I’m constantly meeting new people, which is great, but it sure takes a lot out of a guy!
This weekend in Pittsburgh was unreal. The mansion I stayed in was by far the nicest place I’ve ever been invited to. I’m talking the “White House” meets the “Trump Towers” kind of nice. There were about 10 gay guys not including Mark and me. Of course, I stole the show with my good looks and charm. Heh heh heh. Going through this experience made me realize that I can navigate my way through any situation. I didn’t know ANYONE there and I still managed to be myself, make a lot of jokes, and even win over a few of the guys. I may have “won them over” too well as I went through a couple of situations where I had to explain to a 62 year old and a 45 year old that I wasn’t interested in them romantically. One of those situations got so uncomfortable that Mark literally had to rescue me from it. And considering that he’s 4 inches taller than me and outweighs me by a good 50 pounds, no one really messes with the Mark. He was my knight in shining armor when it came to that shit.
All in all, Mark was a wonderful host. He treats me with undying respect and looks at me with these clear blue eyes that just seem to go right into my soul. Without crossing the line, he was able to be romantic and sweet. I also found him to be incredibly interesting and fun. To say the least, I was pretty smitten with him while we were together.
Now, the people of Pittsburgh were a different story. I’ve never been called “Cracker” so many times in a 48 hour period. But I guess that’s better than being called “fag”, so I’ll take it. We were warned by the residents of Old Allegheny to “get our asses off the street” before we “got a cap plugged into us”. You don’t need to ask me twice…I ran back to the beautiful mansion as fast as I could…never turning around.
The weekend was one I won’t soon forget. I learned so much about who I am deep down and I was really proud of the way I conducted myself with both Mark and the other guys. I came back brimming with confidence, and also puffy eyes from complete lack of sleep.
Last night I went out with the Marketing Manager from Fox and we had a blast. It was the first time we’ve ever hung out and I was incredibly impressed with him. He made me two copies of the commercial and I got to tell you…it came out so well. I look good in it and it’s so fast paced that you barely have enough time to tell that my hair was cut WAY too short. Once I learn how to make a copy of this shit, I’ll send a few of them out, so you can see them. Hey…maybe I’ll even post it on this website. Yeah…as though I can even figure out how to put a picture on this shit.
This weekend I’m off to Long Island to spend some time with my most favorite girls from college. My best friend, Rita, will be there and she’s about three months away from giving birth! I can’t wait to see her and to rub that bulging belly. We’ve both been so busy lately that we haven’t had a free second to catch up and this weekend will finally be our chance. I can’t explain how much I’m looking forward to seeing all the girls, but most importantly, my Rita Lovely. Reunited at last!
In other news, I’ve never been so busy at work in all my life. I was promoted this summer and once the school year started, I lost my mind completely. Hence, this being my first post since I returned from the weekend. I never get a chance to email anymore and personal calls are just non-existent. So if you’re waiting to hear back from me in one way or another...I’ll get to you. It just might take some time. Eh…you’ll understand or I’ll punch you in the twat. And then I’ll laugh as I call you “Bloody Twatty”.
Speaking of work…I must now go back to tend to the beast that is my existence. I hope you are all holding up well! Much love your way my friends!
Thursday, August 25, 2005
The Big Weekend
On Tuesday I mentioned doing something spontaneous and crazy that I wasn’t able to talk about in too much detail. Well, I spoke with Paul about it this morning and now that he knows about it, I can tell all of you! I’ve been trying really hard to make sure that Paul knows everything that goes on in my personal life before I expose it in the journal. It only seems fair. And erotic. Cept not so much erotic. More like sexy.
So, within the next 12 hours, I will be boarding a plane and flying to Pittsburgh. UM. What?! Let me explain. A friend of mine from Albany, Mark, has invited me to visit this castle that his uncle owns in Pittsburgh, PA. There will be a bunch of gay guys there and it’s kind of like a retreat of sorts. There will be lots of partying, maybe even an afternoon by the pool or at a crafts table (as though I’d ever do crafts). Who knows?! When I was first invited a month ago, I thought it over for a couple of days and then I got all nervous and uptight about it and said “no”.
As time clicked by and after an amazing lunch with Ari, I decided that I spend too much time sitting on the sidelines of life. It’s time to start living my life to the fullest and if that means boarding a plane tomorrow morning to go to Pittsburgh with people I barely know, then sobeit! The risk is great, but the opportunity for personal growth is tremendous. I never do anything without a best friend by my side, but this weekend, I’m doing it all on my own. I’m so grown up and brave!
Now, if you don’t hear from me for like a week or so, send out an APB. Cuz in that case, I’ll definitely be lying in a ditch somewhere with a gasp of horror on my face. I’ll probably be naked too and that’s just embarrassing. So if you’re the one to find me in the ditch, throw a blanket over me and spare me the shame. Thanks.
Man! What am I doing? I have no idea what to expect. I’ve never been to Pittsburgh before, so I know nothing about the city. I hear it’s a pretty great place – at least that’s how Queer as Folk makes it out to be. I’m totally going to Babylon and dancing my face off. Oh, whoops. Babylon got blowned up and doesn’t exist anymore. And also, it was a fictional place to begin with. I’ll just go dancing at Gay-Gay McGayerson’s. I’m sure that’s a cool club.
The only thing that makes me more nervous than the trip is the fact that I’ll be smuggling at least 4 or 5 joints with me. I hate flying with pot, but then again, I hate not having it once I get there even more, so I’m definitely going to take the risk. I’ve flown with it before and it’s never been a problem (knock on so much wood). But you never know! Instead of going to Pittsburgh for the first time, I may be spending the night in jail for the first time instead. HOT!
Wish me luck! I’ve never stepped so far out of my box before and I’m rather nervous about it. I do take solace in the fact that Ari will be stepping out of her box at the same time. I just hope that we both have the time of our lives. We definitely deserve it. After all the craziness and bullshit over the last couple of months, going away for a weekend with people I don’t know sounds fucking fantastic!
And off I go…
On Tuesday I mentioned doing something spontaneous and crazy that I wasn’t able to talk about in too much detail. Well, I spoke with Paul about it this morning and now that he knows about it, I can tell all of you! I’ve been trying really hard to make sure that Paul knows everything that goes on in my personal life before I expose it in the journal. It only seems fair. And erotic. Cept not so much erotic. More like sexy.
So, within the next 12 hours, I will be boarding a plane and flying to Pittsburgh. UM. What?! Let me explain. A friend of mine from Albany, Mark, has invited me to visit this castle that his uncle owns in Pittsburgh, PA. There will be a bunch of gay guys there and it’s kind of like a retreat of sorts. There will be lots of partying, maybe even an afternoon by the pool or at a crafts table (as though I’d ever do crafts). Who knows?! When I was first invited a month ago, I thought it over for a couple of days and then I got all nervous and uptight about it and said “no”.
As time clicked by and after an amazing lunch with Ari, I decided that I spend too much time sitting on the sidelines of life. It’s time to start living my life to the fullest and if that means boarding a plane tomorrow morning to go to Pittsburgh with people I barely know, then sobeit! The risk is great, but the opportunity for personal growth is tremendous. I never do anything without a best friend by my side, but this weekend, I’m doing it all on my own. I’m so grown up and brave!
Now, if you don’t hear from me for like a week or so, send out an APB. Cuz in that case, I’ll definitely be lying in a ditch somewhere with a gasp of horror on my face. I’ll probably be naked too and that’s just embarrassing. So if you’re the one to find me in the ditch, throw a blanket over me and spare me the shame. Thanks.
Man! What am I doing? I have no idea what to expect. I’ve never been to Pittsburgh before, so I know nothing about the city. I hear it’s a pretty great place – at least that’s how Queer as Folk makes it out to be. I’m totally going to Babylon and dancing my face off. Oh, whoops. Babylon got blowned up and doesn’t exist anymore. And also, it was a fictional place to begin with. I’ll just go dancing at Gay-Gay McGayerson’s. I’m sure that’s a cool club.
The only thing that makes me more nervous than the trip is the fact that I’ll be smuggling at least 4 or 5 joints with me. I hate flying with pot, but then again, I hate not having it once I get there even more, so I’m definitely going to take the risk. I’ve flown with it before and it’s never been a problem (knock on so much wood). But you never know! Instead of going to Pittsburgh for the first time, I may be spending the night in jail for the first time instead. HOT!
Wish me luck! I’ve never stepped so far out of my box before and I’m rather nervous about it. I do take solace in the fact that Ari will be stepping out of her box at the same time. I just hope that we both have the time of our lives. We definitely deserve it. After all the craziness and bullshit over the last couple of months, going away for a weekend with people I don’t know sounds fucking fantastic!
And off I go…
Wednesday, August 24, 2005
The Wounded Healer
Sophie, my therapist, has given me a nickname. She calls me the “Wounded Healer”. She’s used that phrase with me so often that today I had to just accept it and call out the fact that she has given me a new name. I even went so far as to explain that this name ties me back to my Native American heritage. Consider me “Wounded Healer”!
According to Sophie, one of the biggest obstacles I deal with is living my life for me. We all know this and she is proud of me for recognizing the problem. However, it will take a lot of work in order to be able to move past it. I’m still making all of the decisions in my life based on how they will affect other people. For example, if I get invited to do something fun, my first reaction is “Who will be mad at me if I do this?” or “I would love to be a part of it, but what if “so and so” gets upset?” Whenever I tell Sophie about conversations that I’ve had with my parents or friends or boyfriend about this, she gets incensed with me. “Why do you CARE if your family or friends are upset with a decision you’ve made?? If you WANT to do something, then DO it. Stop allowing these people to enter into your mind and hinder you from stepping out of your box. You don’t owe anyone anything!” And then I always sit there more confused then ever.
We talked long and hard about this issue today and I think I’m finally getting a grasp on it. We’ve discovered that the root of the problem is that I’m putting way too much emphasis on unnecessary guilt. I’m guilty about canceling plans, I’m guilty about not including everyone in things that I do, I’m guilty just to be guilty! And enough is enough. It’s not the way to live. Especially since the people I’m feeling guilty about, don’t feel guilty about any of it. It’s a ridiculous habit that I’ve formed over the years and I’m trying desperately to break free from it.
Hence me being the “Wounded Healer”. According to Sophie, I spent so much of my childhood making sure that everyone else was happy that I never focused on how unhappy I was. I never told people about the torture I endured during high school, yet I was the first one to listen and offer up my comfort when my friends were going through their own shit. And as I’ve gotten older, the high school friends became adult friends and I find myself doing the exact same thing. It’s my way of not dealing with my own issues, while thinking that if I can somehow influence my friends into the right direction, my life will take off in the same manner. Unfortunately, that just isn’t true.
When I walked into therapy today, I had a lot on my mind. I was feeling really shaky about a few decisions I had made in my life. By the time I had sat on her couch, Sophie immediately saw right through me and was like “Tell me”. I explained the details of my decisions and her face lit right up. “Joe, I’m so proud of you! You’re stepping out of your box and meeting new people and starting a brand new life. It’s about time.” I felt so GOOD about myself. But then I told her about all of my doubts and her face screwed up. She walked me through the whole process again of finding myself again. One of these days, I swear I’ll understand that my life is for me to live and no one else. One of these days…
So while I still feel a bit shaky about some of these new changes in my life, I feel really great about the fact that regardless of my doubts, I’m going to fight the good fight and do what I think is best. And if anyone has an opinion on it, they can keep it to themselves. As they say “Talk to the hand, cuz the hot face of mine ain’t listenin!” LAME!
That’s all for today. Time to leave work and enjoy MY life for a couple of hours.
Sophie, my therapist, has given me a nickname. She calls me the “Wounded Healer”. She’s used that phrase with me so often that today I had to just accept it and call out the fact that she has given me a new name. I even went so far as to explain that this name ties me back to my Native American heritage. Consider me “Wounded Healer”!
According to Sophie, one of the biggest obstacles I deal with is living my life for me. We all know this and she is proud of me for recognizing the problem. However, it will take a lot of work in order to be able to move past it. I’m still making all of the decisions in my life based on how they will affect other people. For example, if I get invited to do something fun, my first reaction is “Who will be mad at me if I do this?” or “I would love to be a part of it, but what if “so and so” gets upset?” Whenever I tell Sophie about conversations that I’ve had with my parents or friends or boyfriend about this, she gets incensed with me. “Why do you CARE if your family or friends are upset with a decision you’ve made?? If you WANT to do something, then DO it. Stop allowing these people to enter into your mind and hinder you from stepping out of your box. You don’t owe anyone anything!” And then I always sit there more confused then ever.
We talked long and hard about this issue today and I think I’m finally getting a grasp on it. We’ve discovered that the root of the problem is that I’m putting way too much emphasis on unnecessary guilt. I’m guilty about canceling plans, I’m guilty about not including everyone in things that I do, I’m guilty just to be guilty! And enough is enough. It’s not the way to live. Especially since the people I’m feeling guilty about, don’t feel guilty about any of it. It’s a ridiculous habit that I’ve formed over the years and I’m trying desperately to break free from it.
Hence me being the “Wounded Healer”. According to Sophie, I spent so much of my childhood making sure that everyone else was happy that I never focused on how unhappy I was. I never told people about the torture I endured during high school, yet I was the first one to listen and offer up my comfort when my friends were going through their own shit. And as I’ve gotten older, the high school friends became adult friends and I find myself doing the exact same thing. It’s my way of not dealing with my own issues, while thinking that if I can somehow influence my friends into the right direction, my life will take off in the same manner. Unfortunately, that just isn’t true.
When I walked into therapy today, I had a lot on my mind. I was feeling really shaky about a few decisions I had made in my life. By the time I had sat on her couch, Sophie immediately saw right through me and was like “Tell me”. I explained the details of my decisions and her face lit right up. “Joe, I’m so proud of you! You’re stepping out of your box and meeting new people and starting a brand new life. It’s about time.” I felt so GOOD about myself. But then I told her about all of my doubts and her face screwed up. She walked me through the whole process again of finding myself again. One of these days, I swear I’ll understand that my life is for me to live and no one else. One of these days…
So while I still feel a bit shaky about some of these new changes in my life, I feel really great about the fact that regardless of my doubts, I’m going to fight the good fight and do what I think is best. And if anyone has an opinion on it, they can keep it to themselves. As they say “Talk to the hand, cuz the hot face of mine ain’t listenin!” LAME!
That’s all for today. Time to leave work and enjoy MY life for a couple of hours.
Tuesday, August 23, 2005
Life is Wonderful
Jason Mraz has this song on his new album, Mr. A-Z (buy the album if you believe in being happy – otherwise, don’t be happy, just be your miserable self – spoken by mister misery himself), that’s called Life is Wonderful. Lately, I’ve been doing my best to live by that mantra. Yet, there’s always that angry bitch inside of me that says “Don’t do it!” “Stick with what’s safe and regret every one of your decisions!” And that’s what I do. I go with safe and I sit at home wondering why life could possibly be passing me by?
Whether it was Jason Mraz or my friend Ari (more likely the latter), I made a decision to do something spontaneous and crazy with my life. Understand first that I’m not going to tell you what it is. Sorry, but that’s the horrid reality of it all right now. Second, understand that I’m not changing anything about me or who I am as a person. I’m just going to do something fun and I’m not going to doubt myself any more about it. Third…anyone who needs a “third” is obviously not paying attention.
I am someone who is constantly holding back from risk taking ANYTHING. I get invited to do cool shit and I’m ALWAYS the guy who sits in the corner wishing he had his act more together. For so long I’ve sat in my corner hating everyone else for not encouraging me or forcing me to do all that is crazy in the world. But that was wrong. The only one to blame here is me. It’s time that I follow my OWN mantra and “Cut. The. Shit”. Cuz really?
My life is crazy right now. I knew that I was going through a change, a rite of passage, but never did I expect it to move at such a crazy pace. One minute I’ve adjusted to the new me and suddenly I’m presented with a new situation that makes me into something else. I’m like the ultimate Shape Shifter. And it makes urine run down my leg.
When I’m acting (in a play)(you needed the clarification), the hardest challenge for all of my performances is to find the place where I can take a risk – and take it! I see the moments pass me by as an actor and I’m always the guy on the sidelines wishing that I had just gone for it. No guts no glory. Or something much less masculine and overpowering. I want to be the guy claiming the trophy at the end. Not the one that went unrecognized for all his hard work.
Be a risk taker. No guts no glory. You’ll never know unless you try. Break the mold. Step out of your comfort zone. Be original. Take a chance. The big leap. Don’t let life pass you by. Live strong. Just do it. Big fish in a little pond. Never look back.
You know these sayings. We ALL know these sayings.
I’m just REAL tired of living by them.
Jason Mraz has this song on his new album, Mr. A-Z (buy the album if you believe in being happy – otherwise, don’t be happy, just be your miserable self – spoken by mister misery himself), that’s called Life is Wonderful. Lately, I’ve been doing my best to live by that mantra. Yet, there’s always that angry bitch inside of me that says “Don’t do it!” “Stick with what’s safe and regret every one of your decisions!” And that’s what I do. I go with safe and I sit at home wondering why life could possibly be passing me by?
Whether it was Jason Mraz or my friend Ari (more likely the latter), I made a decision to do something spontaneous and crazy with my life. Understand first that I’m not going to tell you what it is. Sorry, but that’s the horrid reality of it all right now. Second, understand that I’m not changing anything about me or who I am as a person. I’m just going to do something fun and I’m not going to doubt myself any more about it. Third…anyone who needs a “third” is obviously not paying attention.
I am someone who is constantly holding back from risk taking ANYTHING. I get invited to do cool shit and I’m ALWAYS the guy who sits in the corner wishing he had his act more together. For so long I’ve sat in my corner hating everyone else for not encouraging me or forcing me to do all that is crazy in the world. But that was wrong. The only one to blame here is me. It’s time that I follow my OWN mantra and “Cut. The. Shit”. Cuz really?
My life is crazy right now. I knew that I was going through a change, a rite of passage, but never did I expect it to move at such a crazy pace. One minute I’ve adjusted to the new me and suddenly I’m presented with a new situation that makes me into something else. I’m like the ultimate Shape Shifter. And it makes urine run down my leg.
When I’m acting (in a play)(you needed the clarification), the hardest challenge for all of my performances is to find the place where I can take a risk – and take it! I see the moments pass me by as an actor and I’m always the guy on the sidelines wishing that I had just gone for it. No guts no glory. Or something much less masculine and overpowering. I want to be the guy claiming the trophy at the end. Not the one that went unrecognized for all his hard work.
Be a risk taker. No guts no glory. You’ll never know unless you try. Break the mold. Step out of your comfort zone. Be original. Take a chance. The big leap. Don’t let life pass you by. Live strong. Just do it. Big fish in a little pond. Never look back.
You know these sayings. We ALL know these sayings.
I’m just REAL tired of living by them.
Wednesday, August 17, 2005
You Okay, Honey?
For the last month or so, I’ve been dealing with a very heavy issue in therapy. While I didn’t think I had a problem with my sexuality, it turns out that I’m almost drowning in it. It all started with a simple question asked by my therapist, Sophie. “Why do you think that you’re still a virgin at 28 years old?” I had a million reasons, most of them standard lines that I give to anyone who asks me that question. Once all of my reasons were exhausted, Sophie dove a little deeper and started asking very personal questions that immediately left me feeling vulnerable and more honest than I’ve ever been in my life.
The truth of the matter is that I’m not proud of who I am at all. Sure, I believe that I have talents and a personality and decent looks, but when it comes down to the heart of the matter, I’ve always felt as though my homosexuality was something that I should be embarrassed of; something I should hide or pretend I’m secure in just to get people off my back. I’m usually pretty good at making people believe that I’m a comfortable and happy gay man, but I always walk away from conversations like this discouraged and feeling as though I’m a liar. To me, being gay is like a rain cloud over my head that just won’t go away.
Today’s therapy session was the hardest to get through yet. At one point, Sophie actually offered to move off the topic and on to something else. Through my choked sobs, I told her that we could continue. She handed me a box of tissues and I did my best to explain how my past has led me to this point. Truthfully, I had an extremely hard childhood (who hasn’t?). Every single day I was called a “Faggot”, “fairy”, “Fruit”, “Pat, the androgynous He/She”; pretty much any derogatory slur that my high school peers could think of. It was gut wrenching and awful and I used to wish that I was dead almost every day of my life.
As I’ve gotten older, my vulnerability turned into anger and now not only do I have a hard time trusting other people, I have a hard time believing in myself. If someone hurts my feelings, I immediately go on the defensive, hoping that they will back off and go away. This reaction has done nothing, but leave me feeling alone and scared to have friends or lovers. The reason why I’m a still a 28 year old virgin? Because somewhere along the line, I started to believe in what other people were telling me. “Gay is disgusting.” “Homosexuality is a condemnable sin”. “Homosexuality is a disorder that needs to be cured”.
Of course logically I know that this is all a bunch of horse shit. But in my core, I still have a hard time kissing another guy without feeling as though it’s unnatural and gross. I’ve never really admitted that to anyone before and when the words came out of my mouth with Sophie today, we both looked at each other as though we had discovered the root of the problem.
I want to learn how to love myself. I want to learn how to accept myself for who I am and even more importantly, what I am. As the tears streamed down my face today, I realized for the first time how far off the mark I’ve been with this whole thing. I don’t have many, if any, positive gay role models. The friends I’ve surrounded myself with are all wonderful people, but the pressure I feel from them to be perfect crushes me internally and makes me feel as though I can never do anything right. When you combine all of these things together, you have one scared and unhappy guy. Essentially, I always feel alone.
As our session came to a close, Sophie grabbed my hand until I was able to stop the tears from coming out of my eyes. She encouraged me to take a few deep breaths and once again told me how “proud” she is that I’ve “come this far” with our treatment. I thanked her for providing me with the only “safe place” I have in NYC and I walked out of her office, choking back the sobs.
I stood at the elevator and no matter what I did, the tears still filled my eyes. When the elevator door opened, I could see in my peripheral vision that there were two black women standing inside. I walked in and kept my head down. As I rode to the first floor of the building, the woman next to me says “You okay, honey?” A tear rolled down my face as I lifted my head and looked at her. “I’ll be okay”. Shockingly enough, the person who said “You okay, honey” was Phylicia Rashad, of the Cosby Show fame. She smiled at me, I smiled at her and the elevator doors opened.
I walked out of the building feeling cared about. Not only from my wonderful therapist, but from a famous actress. It was a very surreal feeling, but it was a feeling I want so desperately to hold on to.
For the last month or so, I’ve been dealing with a very heavy issue in therapy. While I didn’t think I had a problem with my sexuality, it turns out that I’m almost drowning in it. It all started with a simple question asked by my therapist, Sophie. “Why do you think that you’re still a virgin at 28 years old?” I had a million reasons, most of them standard lines that I give to anyone who asks me that question. Once all of my reasons were exhausted, Sophie dove a little deeper and started asking very personal questions that immediately left me feeling vulnerable and more honest than I’ve ever been in my life.
The truth of the matter is that I’m not proud of who I am at all. Sure, I believe that I have talents and a personality and decent looks, but when it comes down to the heart of the matter, I’ve always felt as though my homosexuality was something that I should be embarrassed of; something I should hide or pretend I’m secure in just to get people off my back. I’m usually pretty good at making people believe that I’m a comfortable and happy gay man, but I always walk away from conversations like this discouraged and feeling as though I’m a liar. To me, being gay is like a rain cloud over my head that just won’t go away.
Today’s therapy session was the hardest to get through yet. At one point, Sophie actually offered to move off the topic and on to something else. Through my choked sobs, I told her that we could continue. She handed me a box of tissues and I did my best to explain how my past has led me to this point. Truthfully, I had an extremely hard childhood (who hasn’t?). Every single day I was called a “Faggot”, “fairy”, “Fruit”, “Pat, the androgynous He/She”; pretty much any derogatory slur that my high school peers could think of. It was gut wrenching and awful and I used to wish that I was dead almost every day of my life.
As I’ve gotten older, my vulnerability turned into anger and now not only do I have a hard time trusting other people, I have a hard time believing in myself. If someone hurts my feelings, I immediately go on the defensive, hoping that they will back off and go away. This reaction has done nothing, but leave me feeling alone and scared to have friends or lovers. The reason why I’m a still a 28 year old virgin? Because somewhere along the line, I started to believe in what other people were telling me. “Gay is disgusting.” “Homosexuality is a condemnable sin”. “Homosexuality is a disorder that needs to be cured”.
Of course logically I know that this is all a bunch of horse shit. But in my core, I still have a hard time kissing another guy without feeling as though it’s unnatural and gross. I’ve never really admitted that to anyone before and when the words came out of my mouth with Sophie today, we both looked at each other as though we had discovered the root of the problem.
I want to learn how to love myself. I want to learn how to accept myself for who I am and even more importantly, what I am. As the tears streamed down my face today, I realized for the first time how far off the mark I’ve been with this whole thing. I don’t have many, if any, positive gay role models. The friends I’ve surrounded myself with are all wonderful people, but the pressure I feel from them to be perfect crushes me internally and makes me feel as though I can never do anything right. When you combine all of these things together, you have one scared and unhappy guy. Essentially, I always feel alone.
As our session came to a close, Sophie grabbed my hand until I was able to stop the tears from coming out of my eyes. She encouraged me to take a few deep breaths and once again told me how “proud” she is that I’ve “come this far” with our treatment. I thanked her for providing me with the only “safe place” I have in NYC and I walked out of her office, choking back the sobs.
I stood at the elevator and no matter what I did, the tears still filled my eyes. When the elevator door opened, I could see in my peripheral vision that there were two black women standing inside. I walked in and kept my head down. As I rode to the first floor of the building, the woman next to me says “You okay, honey?” A tear rolled down my face as I lifted my head and looked at her. “I’ll be okay”. Shockingly enough, the person who said “You okay, honey” was Phylicia Rashad, of the Cosby Show fame. She smiled at me, I smiled at her and the elevator doors opened.
I walked out of the building feeling cared about. Not only from my wonderful therapist, but from a famous actress. It was a very surreal feeling, but it was a feeling I want so desperately to hold on to.
Tuesday, August 16, 2005
My New Babycakes
I take a break from work today to meet up with my pot dealer. After I buy my goods, I walk back to work and think “Oh! I should call my mom!” So I reach into my jeans pocket and find my cell phone underneath the bag I just bought. I navigate past the bag and grab my phone and pull it out of my pocket. Somehow I pulled it so hard that it flew up and out of my hands and down three flights of stairs. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! I watched in slow motion as my phone tumbled and tumbled down each concrete step.
At first I was like “It’s all good, it’s all good!” But when the phone rounded the corner of the stairwell and continued to fall, almost comically, I was like “It’s not good, it’s not good!”
When the phone finally came to a stop at the bottom of the stairs, it was in about 16 pieces. I stood there looking at it and honestly, burst out laughing. What the F is wrong with me?!?!
I quickly picked up the remnants of my, once awesome, phone and put the pieces into my jeans pocket. I walked back to work thinking about what a huge boner I am – not necessarily what a huge boner I have.
Upon arriving at my office, I called the good old people over at Cingular and explained what happened. Of course I left out the part about the pot dealer. The incredibly nice representative told me that I could go to a Cingular store in Manhattan and get a new phone today.
On my lunch break, I went down to Cingular and showed her what happened to my phone. She couldn’t help it; she asks “What did you DO to this phone?” I replied “I shoved it up my asshole and took a huge dump. This is what was leftover.” She replied “I did the same thing with mine! I used it as a dildo and then it totally broke off in my ass!” Then we hugged.
So now I have a new phone which I totally love. It has some cool new features and the ring tones it came with are hilarious. For example, right now I have it set on “Baby”. Whenever the phone rings, it coos and says “Ga ga, goo goo” and I piss myself with laughter. I’ve always wanted a baby that didn’t need to have its diapers changed. So there we go!
IMPORTANT NOTE: if you didn’t receive an email from me today and I had your phone number in the past, please email it to me so I can re-add you to my phone. Shmanks!
That’s all for today. It’s time for me to go fuck my new phone. I’m so getting it pregnant. And then the baby ring tone will say “Dada!”
I take a break from work today to meet up with my pot dealer. After I buy my goods, I walk back to work and think “Oh! I should call my mom!” So I reach into my jeans pocket and find my cell phone underneath the bag I just bought. I navigate past the bag and grab my phone and pull it out of my pocket. Somehow I pulled it so hard that it flew up and out of my hands and down three flights of stairs. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! I watched in slow motion as my phone tumbled and tumbled down each concrete step.
At first I was like “It’s all good, it’s all good!” But when the phone rounded the corner of the stairwell and continued to fall, almost comically, I was like “It’s not good, it’s not good!”
When the phone finally came to a stop at the bottom of the stairs, it was in about 16 pieces. I stood there looking at it and honestly, burst out laughing. What the F is wrong with me?!?!
I quickly picked up the remnants of my, once awesome, phone and put the pieces into my jeans pocket. I walked back to work thinking about what a huge boner I am – not necessarily what a huge boner I have.
Upon arriving at my office, I called the good old people over at Cingular and explained what happened. Of course I left out the part about the pot dealer. The incredibly nice representative told me that I could go to a Cingular store in Manhattan and get a new phone today.
On my lunch break, I went down to Cingular and showed her what happened to my phone. She couldn’t help it; she asks “What did you DO to this phone?” I replied “I shoved it up my asshole and took a huge dump. This is what was leftover.” She replied “I did the same thing with mine! I used it as a dildo and then it totally broke off in my ass!” Then we hugged.
So now I have a new phone which I totally love. It has some cool new features and the ring tones it came with are hilarious. For example, right now I have it set on “Baby”. Whenever the phone rings, it coos and says “Ga ga, goo goo” and I piss myself with laughter. I’ve always wanted a baby that didn’t need to have its diapers changed. So there we go!
IMPORTANT NOTE: if you didn’t receive an email from me today and I had your phone number in the past, please email it to me so I can re-add you to my phone. Shmanks!
That’s all for today. It’s time for me to go fuck my new phone. I’m so getting it pregnant. And then the baby ring tone will say “Dada!”
Monday, August 15, 2005
The Penguins Marched Right Into My Heart
I’ve been a fan of documentaries for a very long time. It probably started when I saw Michael Moore’s Pets or Meat movie in high school. I also saw the movie Eyes on the Prize that year, but I vaguely remember sleeping through most of that one. I do remember the song quite vividly. “Keep your eyes on the prize…hold on.” Haha. I’ve been holding on ever since.
I had read wonderful reviews about March of the Penguins and I figured that it would be totally worth my $11. Paul wouldn’t let me get popcorn since we were going out to a nice dinner afterwards and that pissed me off, but I got over it as soon as I saw the little ‘guins going “cheep cheep cheep”! They’re just SO fucking adorable with their tiny little arm/wings and they walk so slowly, until their feet get tired of course. Then they fall onto their bellies and slide to their destination.
Basically what I learned from the movie is that penguins have a super hard life. They travel like 70 miles to meet a mate and then they spend a month or so together until their egg is produced. Then the mother hands over the egg to the father for an incubation period. Unfortunately, lots of the eggs get lost in the transfer and freeze-dry in a matter of seconds. It’s really sad when that happens because the penguins just sit there looking at it going “WAAAAAAHHHHHHHH”. I got a little teary at that part. Actually I just started going “WAAAAAAAAHHHHHH” too.
After the transfer of the egg, the mother travels the 70 (and more) miles back to the water and go for a swim. Ok, they do more than swim…they eat lots of fish so that they can feed their babies once they return. The father penguins hold the eggs on their little claw feet and keep them warm with their blubber. Something like 3 months pass and blizzards like you wouldn’t believe cover the males in piles of snow. They do nothing, but huddle close to keep warm and scream in agony once in awhile.
Finally the little baby head pokes out of the egg and they’re immediately hilarious to look at. It’s so cold that they must spend days and weeks underneath the blubber so that they don’t freeze to death. Once in awhile they stay out in the cold for two long and they ice right up. Then the father penguin (who just KNOWS he’s going to get it from the mother when she comes back from feeding) screams and cries that he accidentally killed the baby.
Eventually the moms come back and the fathers delicately pass them the baby the same way that they did with the egg. It’s the cutest and saddest thing ever. You just WISH that the penguins would grow some real arms and hand over the baby more expertly. When the babies die, I cry. Actually, one funny thing…when the babies die, sometimes the grieving mother quickly tries to steal another penguin’s baby. The way that they defend themselves? By slapping their little wing arms on each other’s back. It’s like watching people with gimpy arms hit each other. I laughed. And then I wanted popcorn.
The movie was a brilliant and beautiful experiment and it just goes to show that humans have it MUCH easier than those little penguins. All they do is march and march and march because the place where they give birth is like 70 miles away from the water. Craziness I tell you.
The only thing that irritated me during the movie is this:
Two penguins met and were falling in love. They acted all intimate and sensual and the audience goes “OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!” As in “How cute – they’re acting like humans!”
Now, if up on the screen were two human males getting JUST as intimate and acting sensual, I’m sure the audience would have gone “EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWE”! Cuz how NASTY to see two male humans acting like humans!
That was the only negative thing that occurred to me as I watched this movie with the families of America. But I didn’t want to take that out on the penguins. They did nothing wrong but drop their babies in the ice by accident.
The movie was terrific! You should definitely take your nephews and nieces to see it and explain to them that it’s even cute when two gay men hold hands too!
I also saw Seed of Chucky this weekend. It was campy and fun at moments, but totally weird. I mean, I’m actually laughing to myself as I type this because it was Strange City, USA. Somehow their child was a hermaphrodite that had an English accent. HUH!? HAHAHAHAHAHA.
I’ll be back tomorrow with a post unrelated to penguins, nor killer dolls with a penis, vagina, and English accent!
I’ve been a fan of documentaries for a very long time. It probably started when I saw Michael Moore’s Pets or Meat movie in high school. I also saw the movie Eyes on the Prize that year, but I vaguely remember sleeping through most of that one. I do remember the song quite vividly. “Keep your eyes on the prize…hold on.” Haha. I’ve been holding on ever since.
I had read wonderful reviews about March of the Penguins and I figured that it would be totally worth my $11. Paul wouldn’t let me get popcorn since we were going out to a nice dinner afterwards and that pissed me off, but I got over it as soon as I saw the little ‘guins going “cheep cheep cheep”! They’re just SO fucking adorable with their tiny little arm/wings and they walk so slowly, until their feet get tired of course. Then they fall onto their bellies and slide to their destination.
Basically what I learned from the movie is that penguins have a super hard life. They travel like 70 miles to meet a mate and then they spend a month or so together until their egg is produced. Then the mother hands over the egg to the father for an incubation period. Unfortunately, lots of the eggs get lost in the transfer and freeze-dry in a matter of seconds. It’s really sad when that happens because the penguins just sit there looking at it going “WAAAAAAHHHHHHHH”. I got a little teary at that part. Actually I just started going “WAAAAAAAAHHHHHH” too.
After the transfer of the egg, the mother travels the 70 (and more) miles back to the water and go for a swim. Ok, they do more than swim…they eat lots of fish so that they can feed their babies once they return. The father penguins hold the eggs on their little claw feet and keep them warm with their blubber. Something like 3 months pass and blizzards like you wouldn’t believe cover the males in piles of snow. They do nothing, but huddle close to keep warm and scream in agony once in awhile.
Finally the little baby head pokes out of the egg and they’re immediately hilarious to look at. It’s so cold that they must spend days and weeks underneath the blubber so that they don’t freeze to death. Once in awhile they stay out in the cold for two long and they ice right up. Then the father penguin (who just KNOWS he’s going to get it from the mother when she comes back from feeding) screams and cries that he accidentally killed the baby.
Eventually the moms come back and the fathers delicately pass them the baby the same way that they did with the egg. It’s the cutest and saddest thing ever. You just WISH that the penguins would grow some real arms and hand over the baby more expertly. When the babies die, I cry. Actually, one funny thing…when the babies die, sometimes the grieving mother quickly tries to steal another penguin’s baby. The way that they defend themselves? By slapping their little wing arms on each other’s back. It’s like watching people with gimpy arms hit each other. I laughed. And then I wanted popcorn.
The movie was a brilliant and beautiful experiment and it just goes to show that humans have it MUCH easier than those little penguins. All they do is march and march and march because the place where they give birth is like 70 miles away from the water. Craziness I tell you.
The only thing that irritated me during the movie is this:
Two penguins met and were falling in love. They acted all intimate and sensual and the audience goes “OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!” As in “How cute – they’re acting like humans!”
Now, if up on the screen were two human males getting JUST as intimate and acting sensual, I’m sure the audience would have gone “EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWE”! Cuz how NASTY to see two male humans acting like humans!
That was the only negative thing that occurred to me as I watched this movie with the families of America. But I didn’t want to take that out on the penguins. They did nothing wrong but drop their babies in the ice by accident.
The movie was terrific! You should definitely take your nephews and nieces to see it and explain to them that it’s even cute when two gay men hold hands too!
I also saw Seed of Chucky this weekend. It was campy and fun at moments, but totally weird. I mean, I’m actually laughing to myself as I type this because it was Strange City, USA. Somehow their child was a hermaphrodite that had an English accent. HUH!? HAHAHAHAHAHA.
I’ll be back tomorrow with a post unrelated to penguins, nor killer dolls with a penis, vagina, and English accent!
Friday, August 12, 2005
FlyDay
Well I gotta tell you. My mood today is what I like to call “rocking in the free world”. I’m so happy that it’s Friday and that I have a whole weekend to do what I want to do. This week has been very difficult to get through and I’ve only been back from vacation for like 3 days. Ridiculous. But I’m planning on going out with some of my nearest and dearest tonight and then tomorrow I’m off to a pool party (hells if I’ll actually go in the pool). Then on Sunday I have brunch plans with some of my nearest and dearest again and then a whole nother week of work! FUCKING YEAH!
By the way…R U the Girl with Chilli and T-Boz? Just wondering.
Since this is basically turning into a diary of what I ate the night before, I must say that I’m super proud of what I cooked when I got home. I made myself a fatty fucking fatty salad and then had garlic bread and this pasta that I created. Cept I didn’t create it so much as throw a bunch of shit into it. Like broccoli and chicken and some crazy cheese that Paul bought. I added garlic and butter (low fat shit of course!) and after it was all done, I baked it up. It was unbelievably good. When I woke up at 3am to take a piss, I stopped by the fridge to have another bite. Pretty sick thing to do considering that I brushed my teeth and used my whitening strips before bed. But I just couldn’t resist!
I haven’t seen Paul since Tuesday afternoon when he left for work. He comes home and gets into bed after I’ve already gone to sleep, so the only time I see his face is when my alarm goes off in the morning. This morning he immediately sat up and said “How ARE you?” I grumbled something like “I’m good. I hate working.” He’s been working so much lately and I feel sorry for him. But mostly I feel sorry for myself cuz I have a zit on my back. What the F? Since when do I get zits on my hot back? I’m almost embarrassed. Considering that my ProActive regimen is working wonders for my face (Not ONE zit or pimple at all!), should I consider using it on my back? For some reason that makes me feel like a total scumbag. I mean, would P-Diddy use ProActive on his back? He’d probably just pour Cristal on it.
BTW…George Bush and all Republicans are ruining our country. (Love you Karol!)
When I was visiting my brother in Boston, he asked me a question that made me realize how immature I am with my drinking. He said “Other than vodka/Redbull, what is your favorite drink?” I replied “Does wine count?” Brother McMullen says “No, hard liquor only.” I replied “Red Bull/Vodka is all I like.” He rolled his eyes and I realized that I’m a stupid asshole when it comes to drinking. Shouldn’t I be trying new things? Like bourbon or even a Jack and Coke?
I’m sure there are bigger problems that I could tackle in my life, but I think increasing my alcohol awareness is clearly most important.
OOOH! Guess who I saw on the street the other day? Cameron Diaz and Justin Timberlake!
No. No, I didn’t.
I’m sorry, but I’m still totally enraptured with Ciara. I’m totally gay for her. I want to be her or fuck her or something. I don’t really know. All I do know is that every time I see her adorable little face, I smile and start going Ooooh, OOOOOH. Cuz my name is Ciara for all you fly fellas. You understand.
Remember when I said that I wanted to volunteer at a local gay organization? Well, I’m too busy now trying to see people that I haven’t seen. So if you’re an organization that needs some volunteers, just give me a minute. I’m busy getting drunk with all my friends.
Gotta go buy a bagel. Be right back!
Ok, back! Remember when we were little and we used to write that in letters? We always felt as though we had to let the person receiving the letter know that we left to go shower or make a phone call or something. Why DID we do that? Kids are weird.
Anyway, I just got a bagel and a 32oz vitamin water. It’s as big as my skull. And for some reason, Vitamin Waters always make me have to piss my face off. This huge sucker is going to have me pissing out of my eyes, my nose, and my ass. My dick’s on a break!
Have a good weekend everyone!
Jerk one for me.
Well I gotta tell you. My mood today is what I like to call “rocking in the free world”. I’m so happy that it’s Friday and that I have a whole weekend to do what I want to do. This week has been very difficult to get through and I’ve only been back from vacation for like 3 days. Ridiculous. But I’m planning on going out with some of my nearest and dearest tonight and then tomorrow I’m off to a pool party (hells if I’ll actually go in the pool). Then on Sunday I have brunch plans with some of my nearest and dearest again and then a whole nother week of work! FUCKING YEAH!
By the way…R U the Girl with Chilli and T-Boz? Just wondering.
Since this is basically turning into a diary of what I ate the night before, I must say that I’m super proud of what I cooked when I got home. I made myself a fatty fucking fatty salad and then had garlic bread and this pasta that I created. Cept I didn’t create it so much as throw a bunch of shit into it. Like broccoli and chicken and some crazy cheese that Paul bought. I added garlic and butter (low fat shit of course!) and after it was all done, I baked it up. It was unbelievably good. When I woke up at 3am to take a piss, I stopped by the fridge to have another bite. Pretty sick thing to do considering that I brushed my teeth and used my whitening strips before bed. But I just couldn’t resist!
I haven’t seen Paul since Tuesday afternoon when he left for work. He comes home and gets into bed after I’ve already gone to sleep, so the only time I see his face is when my alarm goes off in the morning. This morning he immediately sat up and said “How ARE you?” I grumbled something like “I’m good. I hate working.” He’s been working so much lately and I feel sorry for him. But mostly I feel sorry for myself cuz I have a zit on my back. What the F? Since when do I get zits on my hot back? I’m almost embarrassed. Considering that my ProActive regimen is working wonders for my face (Not ONE zit or pimple at all!), should I consider using it on my back? For some reason that makes me feel like a total scumbag. I mean, would P-Diddy use ProActive on his back? He’d probably just pour Cristal on it.
BTW…George Bush and all Republicans are ruining our country. (Love you Karol!)
When I was visiting my brother in Boston, he asked me a question that made me realize how immature I am with my drinking. He said “Other than vodka/Redbull, what is your favorite drink?” I replied “Does wine count?” Brother McMullen says “No, hard liquor only.” I replied “Red Bull/Vodka is all I like.” He rolled his eyes and I realized that I’m a stupid asshole when it comes to drinking. Shouldn’t I be trying new things? Like bourbon or even a Jack and Coke?
I’m sure there are bigger problems that I could tackle in my life, but I think increasing my alcohol awareness is clearly most important.
OOOH! Guess who I saw on the street the other day? Cameron Diaz and Justin Timberlake!
No. No, I didn’t.
I’m sorry, but I’m still totally enraptured with Ciara. I’m totally gay for her. I want to be her or fuck her or something. I don’t really know. All I do know is that every time I see her adorable little face, I smile and start going Ooooh, OOOOOH. Cuz my name is Ciara for all you fly fellas. You understand.
Remember when I said that I wanted to volunteer at a local gay organization? Well, I’m too busy now trying to see people that I haven’t seen. So if you’re an organization that needs some volunteers, just give me a minute. I’m busy getting drunk with all my friends.
Gotta go buy a bagel. Be right back!
Ok, back! Remember when we were little and we used to write that in letters? We always felt as though we had to let the person receiving the letter know that we left to go shower or make a phone call or something. Why DID we do that? Kids are weird.
Anyway, I just got a bagel and a 32oz vitamin water. It’s as big as my skull. And for some reason, Vitamin Waters always make me have to piss my face off. This huge sucker is going to have me pissing out of my eyes, my nose, and my ass. My dick’s on a break!
Have a good weekend everyone!
Jerk one for me.
Thursday, August 11, 2005
NYC: Bane of My Existence
A conversation I had yesterday with a fellow New Yorker:
Bitch: “Hey. HEY! HEY YOU!”
Me: (Removing my head phones) “What?”
Bitch: “Can I buy two cigarettes off of you?”
Me: “No, sorry. This is the last one from my pack.”
Bitch: “I just saw you light it up. I know you have more.”
Me: “What?! Fine. The answer is still no.” (put headphones back on)
Bitch: “Bastard.”
Me: (Removing head phones again) “If you want to smoke a cigarette, go buy a fucking pack.”
Bitch: “I quit. I just want one.”
Me: “Then that’s not quitting. Dumb bitch.”
Bitch: “FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU!!!!!!”
(I run away feeling all smug)
God, I just love this city.
In other news, yesterday was a pain in my ass. I was in bed and asleep by like 10pm. After a long day of work and therapy, I just couldn’t stand the idea of dealing with yesterday anymore. I popped two sleeping pills and slept like a rock. I woke up today feeling worlds better and ready to tackle my life. What a difference a good night of sleep makes.
I’m so looking forward to the weekend. I know I just came back from vacation, but my Lord! I definitely didn’t come back from vacation ready for the New York City attitude. I was all vulnerable and shit yesterday cuz I was used to being around people that are nice and patient. This city is getting on my fucking nerves these days. It’s like if I want to get through my day without dealing with bitches, then I have to be a bitch right back. Whatever. If that’s what it takes…
I had tacos for dinner last night and I sat there alone, eating and thinking about how nice it was to have some peace and quiet. To be able to shut your door, turn off your phone and just watch TV. I needed a night like that desperately. I feel like I have a hundred people to see and a million things to take care of in my personal life. I wish I could freeze time, do what I need to do, and then move on. People are getting pissed at me for not making time for them and I feel like there is nothing I can do about it. There’s only so much time in the day, you know? I guess the problem is that all of my friends are from different groups of people. I can’t exactly combine them all together to see everyone I want to see. As my therapist would say “Let it go”. And since I can’t come up with any sort of solvent, that is exactly what I’ll do. Let it go…
I’m supposed to go out to dinner and a show tonight. Part of me wants to go and part of me wants to rest up for a crazy night tomorrow. I think I’ll go take my lunch-break nap and see how I feel after that. If I wake up in a bitchy mood, I’m totally going home, flipping on the TV, and eating something disgustingly bad for me for dinner. I guess that means I’ll eat pancakes covered in goat cheese and syrup. I’ll wash it down with a cup of semen and eat a pound of red beef for dessert. SLURP!
Or maybe I’ll just have chicken and pasta.
Or maybe I’ll just go to dinner and the show and be done with it.
Or maybe. Or maybe I gotta go!
(runs away and hides under some comfortable blankets)
A conversation I had yesterday with a fellow New Yorker:
Bitch: “Hey. HEY! HEY YOU!”
Me: (Removing my head phones) “What?”
Bitch: “Can I buy two cigarettes off of you?”
Me: “No, sorry. This is the last one from my pack.”
Bitch: “I just saw you light it up. I know you have more.”
Me: “What?! Fine. The answer is still no.” (put headphones back on)
Bitch: “Bastard.”
Me: (Removing head phones again) “If you want to smoke a cigarette, go buy a fucking pack.”
Bitch: “I quit. I just want one.”
Me: “Then that’s not quitting. Dumb bitch.”
Bitch: “FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU!!!!!!”
(I run away feeling all smug)
God, I just love this city.
In other news, yesterday was a pain in my ass. I was in bed and asleep by like 10pm. After a long day of work and therapy, I just couldn’t stand the idea of dealing with yesterday anymore. I popped two sleeping pills and slept like a rock. I woke up today feeling worlds better and ready to tackle my life. What a difference a good night of sleep makes.
I’m so looking forward to the weekend. I know I just came back from vacation, but my Lord! I definitely didn’t come back from vacation ready for the New York City attitude. I was all vulnerable and shit yesterday cuz I was used to being around people that are nice and patient. This city is getting on my fucking nerves these days. It’s like if I want to get through my day without dealing with bitches, then I have to be a bitch right back. Whatever. If that’s what it takes…
I had tacos for dinner last night and I sat there alone, eating and thinking about how nice it was to have some peace and quiet. To be able to shut your door, turn off your phone and just watch TV. I needed a night like that desperately. I feel like I have a hundred people to see and a million things to take care of in my personal life. I wish I could freeze time, do what I need to do, and then move on. People are getting pissed at me for not making time for them and I feel like there is nothing I can do about it. There’s only so much time in the day, you know? I guess the problem is that all of my friends are from different groups of people. I can’t exactly combine them all together to see everyone I want to see. As my therapist would say “Let it go”. And since I can’t come up with any sort of solvent, that is exactly what I’ll do. Let it go…
I’m supposed to go out to dinner and a show tonight. Part of me wants to go and part of me wants to rest up for a crazy night tomorrow. I think I’ll go take my lunch-break nap and see how I feel after that. If I wake up in a bitchy mood, I’m totally going home, flipping on the TV, and eating something disgustingly bad for me for dinner. I guess that means I’ll eat pancakes covered in goat cheese and syrup. I’ll wash it down with a cup of semen and eat a pound of red beef for dessert. SLURP!
Or maybe I’ll just have chicken and pasta.
Or maybe I’ll just go to dinner and the show and be done with it.
Or maybe. Or maybe I gotta go!
(runs away and hides under some comfortable blankets)
Funny Cuz It's True
Dear Red States,
We've decided we're leaving. We intend to form our own country, and we're taking the other Blue States with us.
In case you aren't aware, that includes Hawaii, Oregon,Washington, Minnesota, Wisconsin, Michigan, Illinois and all the Northeast. We believe this split will be beneficial to the nation, and especially to the people of the new country of New California.
To sum up briefly: You get Texas, Oklahoma and all the slave states.
We get stem cell research and the best beaches. We get Elliot Spitzer. You get Ken Lay.
We get the Statue of Liberty. You get Dollywood.
We get Intel and Microsoft. You get WorldCom.
We get Harvard. You get Ole' Miss.
We get 85 percent of America's venture capital and entrepreneurs. You get Alabama.
We get two-thirds of the tax revenue, you get to make the red states pay their fair share.
Since our aggregate divorce rate is 22 percent lower than the Christian Coalition's, we get a bunch of happy families. You get a bunch of single moms.
Please be aware that Nuevo California will be pro-choice and anti-war, and we're going to want all our citizens back from Iraq at once. If you need people to fight, ask your evangelicals. They have kids they're apparently willing to send to their deaths for no purpose, and they don't care if you don't show pictures of their children's caskets coming home. We do wish you success in Iraq, and hope that the WMDs turn up, but we're not willing to spend our resources in Bush's Quagmire.
With the Blue States in hand, we will have firm control of 80 percent of the country's fresh water, more than 90 percent of the pineapple and lettuce, 92 percent of the nation's fresh fruit, 95 percent of America's quality wines (you can serve French wines at state dinners) 90 percent of all cheese, 90 percent of the high tech industry, most of the U.S. low-sulfur coal, all living redwoods, sequoias and condors, all the Ivy and Seven Sister schools, plus Harvard, Yale, Stanford, Cal Tech and MIT.
With the Red States, on the other hand, you will have to cope with 88 percent of all obese Americans (and their projected health care costs), 92 percent of all U.S. mosquitoes, nearly 100 percent of the tornadoes, 90 percent of the hurricanes, 99 percent of all Southern Baptists, virtually 100 percent of all televangelists, Rush Limbaugh, Bob Jones University, Clemson and the University of Georgia.
We get Hollywood and Yosemite, thank you.
Additionally, 38 percent of those in the Red states believe Jonah was actually swallowed by a whale, 62 percent believe life is sacred unless we're discussing the death penalty or gun laws, 44 percent say that evolution is only a theory, 53 percent that Saddam was involved in 9/11 and 61 percent of you crazy b*****ds believe you are people with higher morals then we lefties.
By the way, we're taking the good pot, too. You can have that dirt weed they grow in Mexico.
Peace out,
Blue States
Dear Red States,
We've decided we're leaving. We intend to form our own country, and we're taking the other Blue States with us.
In case you aren't aware, that includes Hawaii, Oregon,Washington, Minnesota, Wisconsin, Michigan, Illinois and all the Northeast. We believe this split will be beneficial to the nation, and especially to the people of the new country of New California.
To sum up briefly: You get Texas, Oklahoma and all the slave states.
We get stem cell research and the best beaches. We get Elliot Spitzer. You get Ken Lay.
We get the Statue of Liberty. You get Dollywood.
We get Intel and Microsoft. You get WorldCom.
We get Harvard. You get Ole' Miss.
We get 85 percent of America's venture capital and entrepreneurs. You get Alabama.
We get two-thirds of the tax revenue, you get to make the red states pay their fair share.
Since our aggregate divorce rate is 22 percent lower than the Christian Coalition's, we get a bunch of happy families. You get a bunch of single moms.
Please be aware that Nuevo California will be pro-choice and anti-war, and we're going to want all our citizens back from Iraq at once. If you need people to fight, ask your evangelicals. They have kids they're apparently willing to send to their deaths for no purpose, and they don't care if you don't show pictures of their children's caskets coming home. We do wish you success in Iraq, and hope that the WMDs turn up, but we're not willing to spend our resources in Bush's Quagmire.
With the Blue States in hand, we will have firm control of 80 percent of the country's fresh water, more than 90 percent of the pineapple and lettuce, 92 percent of the nation's fresh fruit, 95 percent of America's quality wines (you can serve French wines at state dinners) 90 percent of all cheese, 90 percent of the high tech industry, most of the U.S. low-sulfur coal, all living redwoods, sequoias and condors, all the Ivy and Seven Sister schools, plus Harvard, Yale, Stanford, Cal Tech and MIT.
With the Red States, on the other hand, you will have to cope with 88 percent of all obese Americans (and their projected health care costs), 92 percent of all U.S. mosquitoes, nearly 100 percent of the tornadoes, 90 percent of the hurricanes, 99 percent of all Southern Baptists, virtually 100 percent of all televangelists, Rush Limbaugh, Bob Jones University, Clemson and the University of Georgia.
We get Hollywood and Yosemite, thank you.
Additionally, 38 percent of those in the Red states believe Jonah was actually swallowed by a whale, 62 percent believe life is sacred unless we're discussing the death penalty or gun laws, 44 percent say that evolution is only a theory, 53 percent that Saddam was involved in 9/11 and 61 percent of you crazy b*****ds believe you are people with higher morals then we lefties.
By the way, we're taking the good pot, too. You can have that dirt weed they grow in Mexico.
Peace out,
Blue States
Wednesday, August 10, 2005
The Bitch is Back
Hi folks!
I’m back and in action. The trip went very well and I’m tan and kind of rested. Although Paul has a tendency to sleep straight through vacations, I like to go out and party it up. I think I probably slept an average of 5 hours a night. When we got home on Monday, I slept for about 15 hours straight, only getting up on Tuesday to check on journals, take a massive shit, and eat pizza. Cuz 6 days without NYC pizza is 5 days too long!
For the first part of the trip, we stayed in Rhode Island in this fantastic hotel right on the beach. Our room opened up to reveal a private balcony that had a table and chairs overlooking the waves as they crashed on to our beach. It was, BY FAR, the most beautiful place I’ve ever stayed in. I sat for hours on that balcony, smoking cigarettes, and thinking about my life. I haven’t felt that clear headed and happy in such a long time. Since Paul ended up in bed really early on our first night of vacation, I spent 4 hours on the phone with friends, watching the moon rise over the ocean. It’s definitely a night that I will never forget. And it was one that I spent more or less alone.
For the rest of the RI trip, we went to Newport, out to fancy restaurants and I argued with Paul over just about everything. He got really sunburned one day and spent even more time in bed. I didn’t have much sympathy for him as he ALWAYS gets a better tan than me; even if his tan was in the form of Red Lobster.
After this, we drove to Boston and I got to spend three whole days with my brother. I had paid over $200 for Paul and me to spend our first night there in a gorgeous hotel. But five hours later we were packed and headed up to my brother’s pad. It was so good to see him and Paul was so drunk that there was no way I was going to stay in for the night tolerating him. Winfield and I stayed up until all hours playing videogames and drinking. The next day, we went to Best Buy and bought some new games to play. We must have played the Lord of the Rings videogame for 15 hours straight. My thumb is still sore for battling all of the Orcs.
On Sunday we partied and went to Avalon, the biggest gay club in Boston. It was a very enlightening experience. Enlightening in the way that I realized that at 28 I’m getting a little too old for clubs. The kids on the dance floor were irritating and not cute. The glow sticks and punk attitude is so out and I wanted to puke after realizing that in some way, this whole scene was me five years ago. Yikes.
All in all, I had a great vacation. Very uneventful as far as drama and for that I’m grateful. I feel a little low today having realized that I won’t be going on another vacation for a couple of months. I’m hoping to take off with a friend and go to Pittsburgh at the end of August, but that’s about it. I wish I could say that I missed the New York City heat and aggression, but I didn’t. In fact, it was so nice not having anyone push me out of the way for one reason or another.
I had therapy today and it left me feeling a bit out of sorts. I was laughing and talking through the whole session until Sophie guided the conversation towards my quest for independence. It seems to me that while I’ve made some major steps in the right direction, I’ve also taken some steps backwards. I’m more confused than ever about my relationship, my career, and my next step in this city. I’ve got a lot of self-analysis to do this week. Maybe I’ll make a pros and cons list just to get myself more focused.
While I love going on vacation, returning always leaves me feeling disorganized and out of rhythm. I’m hoping that with time I’ll fall back into my routine. Until then, I just hope that I can find a way to keep my mood stabilized and my depression at bay.
Thank God the weekend’s almost here.
Hi folks!
I’m back and in action. The trip went very well and I’m tan and kind of rested. Although Paul has a tendency to sleep straight through vacations, I like to go out and party it up. I think I probably slept an average of 5 hours a night. When we got home on Monday, I slept for about 15 hours straight, only getting up on Tuesday to check on journals, take a massive shit, and eat pizza. Cuz 6 days without NYC pizza is 5 days too long!
For the first part of the trip, we stayed in Rhode Island in this fantastic hotel right on the beach. Our room opened up to reveal a private balcony that had a table and chairs overlooking the waves as they crashed on to our beach. It was, BY FAR, the most beautiful place I’ve ever stayed in. I sat for hours on that balcony, smoking cigarettes, and thinking about my life. I haven’t felt that clear headed and happy in such a long time. Since Paul ended up in bed really early on our first night of vacation, I spent 4 hours on the phone with friends, watching the moon rise over the ocean. It’s definitely a night that I will never forget. And it was one that I spent more or less alone.
For the rest of the RI trip, we went to Newport, out to fancy restaurants and I argued with Paul over just about everything. He got really sunburned one day and spent even more time in bed. I didn’t have much sympathy for him as he ALWAYS gets a better tan than me; even if his tan was in the form of Red Lobster.
After this, we drove to Boston and I got to spend three whole days with my brother. I had paid over $200 for Paul and me to spend our first night there in a gorgeous hotel. But five hours later we were packed and headed up to my brother’s pad. It was so good to see him and Paul was so drunk that there was no way I was going to stay in for the night tolerating him. Winfield and I stayed up until all hours playing videogames and drinking. The next day, we went to Best Buy and bought some new games to play. We must have played the Lord of the Rings videogame for 15 hours straight. My thumb is still sore for battling all of the Orcs.
On Sunday we partied and went to Avalon, the biggest gay club in Boston. It was a very enlightening experience. Enlightening in the way that I realized that at 28 I’m getting a little too old for clubs. The kids on the dance floor were irritating and not cute. The glow sticks and punk attitude is so out and I wanted to puke after realizing that in some way, this whole scene was me five years ago. Yikes.
All in all, I had a great vacation. Very uneventful as far as drama and for that I’m grateful. I feel a little low today having realized that I won’t be going on another vacation for a couple of months. I’m hoping to take off with a friend and go to Pittsburgh at the end of August, but that’s about it. I wish I could say that I missed the New York City heat and aggression, but I didn’t. In fact, it was so nice not having anyone push me out of the way for one reason or another.
I had therapy today and it left me feeling a bit out of sorts. I was laughing and talking through the whole session until Sophie guided the conversation towards my quest for independence. It seems to me that while I’ve made some major steps in the right direction, I’ve also taken some steps backwards. I’m more confused than ever about my relationship, my career, and my next step in this city. I’ve got a lot of self-analysis to do this week. Maybe I’ll make a pros and cons list just to get myself more focused.
While I love going on vacation, returning always leaves me feeling disorganized and out of rhythm. I’m hoping that with time I’ll fall back into my routine. Until then, I just hope that I can find a way to keep my mood stabilized and my depression at bay.
Thank God the weekend’s almost here.
Monday, August 01, 2005
ADIOS!
Joe CuttheShit is on a much needed vacation.
He will return on Wednesday, August 10th.
Be good everyone!
Joe CuttheShit is on a much needed vacation.
He will return on Wednesday, August 10th.
Be good everyone!
