Cut the Shit

Did YOU want to date ME?

Well, it’s official! I’ve been single for over three months! Almost as long as my dog’s been alive. That’s kind of fucked up. Maybe my dog is the reincarnation of my now defunct relationship?

In any case, since Paul and I took a break in October, I’ve been out on a handful of dates. Some of the guys I met through the internet, some through friends. But all were a bit lackluster and none that I wanted to have intimacies with. Ok…intimacies? How bout, none that I wanted to blow. There. That’s better.

I’ve had quite a few nice meals and at points, I’ve even had a few interesting conversations. I’ve realized that good conversation is a bit hard to come by in the real world - which I find to be a total shame. I’m a huge conversationalist and would prefer having a deep and meaningful talk over getting a dick in my ass – which is probably why I’ve still never had intercourse. Too bad too, cuz my ass is super tight and ready for it. Ha! Ha? Ha.

I’m a member of a couple different online dating services. Without sounding like a bitch, I do get “winked at” and “checked out” quite a bit. I would say that 99.9% of the guys are just not my type and that’s what makes this whole thing completely frustrating. I mean, I can sit at dinner and keep up my end of the dialogue for hours, but if there is no chemistry and I’m just not attracted to the guy, what’s the point? At the end dinner, it’s just me and them and their lips coming towards mine. And unfortunately, at my old age of 28, I’m not the one night stand kind of guy that I used to be.

Back in the day, I would blow just about anything, just to have some sort of experience when it came to men. It just felt right at the time. But now, I don’t want that. I want meaningful, mature, and intriguing relationships. I don’t want to kiss any more guys just because I feel like I have to. I feel this so strongly that when this one guy went to kiss me, I actually put my finger to his lips and quietly said “No thank you”. He didn’t think that was very cute and I ended up standing on the street by myself. Fair enough!

The other thing that has shocked my dating confidence is that the majority of guys I’ve met are looking for committed relationships almost immediately! I mean…come on! There is nothing more desperate that a guy asking you to commit to him after the first date. That scares me and definitely means that there will not be a second date, no matter how much back tracking he does. I’d like to at least know a BIT about the guy before we end up in a monogamous, no bullshit type of relationship. That’s only fair, right?

I’m just out of a 6 year relationship. Why WOULD I want to jump immediately into another one, especially after a 3 hour date?

What happened to chivalry? What happened to a guy asking another guy out on a date and having dinner and drinks be all there is? It’s like, I either need to blow them or allow them to slip a ring on my finger. And blowing them wouldn’t be so bad as long as I had even a smidge of attraction for them. I do believe that attraction can be learned once the personalities click and the comfort level is established, but that just doesn’t happen in the first 3 hours.

Today I feel a tad frustrated with the whole thing. I looked online this morning to see if I could find any “Speed Dating” events for gay men in my area. I was surprised to find quite a few. Only thing is, they don’t happen that often and I don’t know if I would be confident enough to attend something like that by myself. I’m not swimming in gay male friends over here, so it’s most likely the type of thing that I would have to do solo. I’m not good with solo. I am however good with Soul-Glo! Whatever. It rhymed.

So I guess…if you are a gay man in the NYMetro area and you would like to have dinner with me, please shoot me an email. And of course include a picture, cuz that’s just an automatic these days. I’m up for just about anything and I’m open minded and would prefer a casual and fun circumstance that’s going to remind me that dating can actually be fun.

If you want to set me up with a friend of yours, that’s even better. At least then the guy comes with a pedigree of sorts.

Here is what I look for in a guy:
1) Masculinity (this is a must. I just can’t get down with the femme fatales)
2) Taller, built bigger than me. (this is not a must, but it would go a long way in creating some chemistry on my part)
3) Be able to carry on a conversation. Please. God. Be able to. Carry on. A conversation.
4) Casual is the way to go. If you want to propose to me after dinner, we probably should not have dinner together to begin with.
5) This could be stretching it, but a sense of humor goes a LONG way in winning me over. If you make me laugh, I’ll probably make you cum.
6) Older than me is probably best. For a number of reasons.

Ok…that should be good and not TOO picky, right?

If it is, then I guess I’ll just continue doing what I’m doing and allow this post to slowly make it’s way to my archives – where I’ll look at it a year from now and laugh and laugh with my new boyfriend.

Coincidence? I Think Snot

My mom clued me into the following article today and it made quite an impact (no, I won't make you link to it, I'll post it for you - selfish bastids). Oddly enough, yesterday and today are the two most depressing days of the year. Now don't get me wrong. "Getting depressed" and dealing with "depression" are two completely different things. No question. But I think that the triggers are quite similar, which is why I found the article to be rather enlightening.

Hat tip to my friend Kelly, who just returned from a week long vacation to St. Martin. She couldn't have taken the trip at a better time. Leave it to Kelly to be so ahead of the times. It's only a matter of years before EVERYONE takes a trip right after the holidays. It will be the THING to do and they'll call it "Kelly's Trip". Or "Kelly's Idear". Or "Kelly Belly". I don't know.

Here is the article and obviously, take it for what it's worth:

From MSNBC.COM (http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/6847012/):

January 24th Called the Worst Day of the Year

By Jennifer Carlile
Reporter
MSNBC

"LONDON - Is the midwinter weather wearing you down? Are you sinking in debt after the holidays? Angry with yourself for already breaking your New Year's resolutions? Wish you could crawl back under the covers and not have to face another day of rain, sleet, snow and paperwork? Probably. After all, it's Jan. 24, the “most depressing day of the year,” according to a U.K. psychologist.

Dr. Cliff Arnall's calculations show that misery peaks Monday.

Arnall, who specializes in seasonal disorders at the University of Cardiff, Wales, created a formula that takes into account numerous feelings to devise peoples' lowest point.

The model is: [W + (D-d)] x TQ
M x NA

The equation is broken down into seven variables: (W) weather, (D) debt, (d) monthly salary, (T) time since Christmas, (Q) time since failed quit attempt, (M) low motivational levels and (NA) the need to take action.

‘Reality starts to kick in’
Arnall found that, while days technically get longer after Dec. 21, cyclonic weather systems take hold in January, bringing low, dark clouds to Britain. Meanwhile, the majority of people break their healthy resolutions six to seven days into the new year, and even the hangers-on have fallen off the wagon, torn off the nicotine patches and eaten the fridge empty by the third week. Any residual dregs of holiday cheer and family fun have kicked the bucket by Jan. 24.

“Following the initial thrill of New Year's celebrations and changing over a new leaf, reality starts to sink in,” Arnall said. “The realization coincides with the dark clouds rolling in and the obligation to pay off Christmas credit card bills.”

The formula was devised to help a travel company “analyze when people book holidays and holiday trends,” said Alex Kennedy, spokesperson for Porter Novelli, a London-based PR agency.

It seems that people are most likely to buy a ticket to paradise when they feel like hell.

“People feel bleak when they have nothing planned, but once they book a holiday they have a goal, they work toward having time off and a relaxing period,” Kennedy said.

“When you imagine yourself on the beach it makes you feel positive. You will save money, go to the gym and come back to the optimism you had at the end of 2004,” she said.

In U.K., up to a third get SAD.
Research shows an escape to the sun can have real health benefits.

Up to a third of the population, in Britain at least, suffers from seasonal affective disorder, or SAD, also known as winter depression, according to MIND, a leading mental health charity in England and Wales. Furthermore, nine out of 10 people report sleeping and eating more during the darker months.

While most cases of the winter blues are not severe, 2 percent to 5 percent of those with SAD cannot function without continuous treatment.

However, it's extremely rare to find anyone with the disorder within 30 degrees of the equator, where days are long and the sky is bright year-round, according to MIND.

Although their findings appear to support a key factor in Arnall's research for Porter Novelli and its client, Sky Travel, the charity warned against overemphasizing the psychologist's claims.

“These types of formulae, if anything, probably serve to oversimplify the complexities of real-life experience,” a spokesperson said on customary condition of anonymity.

Others in the medical field were less skeptical.

“I’m sure it's right,” said Dr. Alan Cohen, spokesperson for the Royal College of General Practitioners, referring to Arnall's equation.

However, “it is postulated that there are a number of different causes of depression,” he said.

“It may be something about one’s personality, genes or external events. For those who suffer from external events, [Jan. 24] would be the most depressing day,” Cohen said.

While travel companies hope to turn gloom into gold this date, for those unable to book a last-minute tropical getaway, Arnall might want to consider a formula for the “happiest day of the year.”

© 2006 MSNBC Interactive"

FAIR ENOUGH!

Depression: It’s What’s for Dinner

No matter how many therapy sessions I go to…

No matter how long it’s been since my last collapse…

No matter what I do.

I will always be the person that wakes up, gets showered, puts on clothes, combs the hair, grabs the ipod, walks to the elevator and starts to cry.

As to not embarrass myself in front of anyone else in my building, I turn around, unlock my door, take my bag off and sit with my head in my hands. I sit and I breathe and I sit and I breathe and then it takes over.

The anxiety, the sadness, the fear of looking anyone in the face…

The first and last mistake I always make is allowing the thoughts to enter into my head and to actually entertain them.

I was up at 4:30am this morning with intense anxiety. I took a piss, smoked a cigarette and even read part of a magazine. All I wanted to do was relax, calm down, and eventually get back in to bed to have just one more hour of sleep. But I knew from the moment I opened my eyes that today was going to be impossible.

I felt ugly. I felt frustrated. I felt angry.

I ran my day through my head and tried to come up with a way to quench the fear that was coursing through my body. Why scared? WHY? WHY!

I have nothing to be afraid of. I had a fine weekend and was going to go to my job of 5 years and go to therapy to get some cleansing and have a nice quiet lunch. So WHAT about today was so fucking awful that I couldn’t crawl out of my depression?

The thing I hate most about dealing with this type of illness is that I don’t even believe it myself. I worry that other people won’t get it and in turn I sit there and convince myself that I’m weak and not making progress and so pathetic that looking in the mirror is like looking directly into my personal hell.

Depression is a scary and fucked up thing. It messes with your mind. It has the potential to make you hate yourself so much that you think the only way to crawl out of it is to take a bottle of sleeping pills and to just drift off forever. Mostly, I’m not in that place. Thank God. But I can see that place in the distance and I can see how people get there; which is scary enough in itself.

After calling out of work (and for the first time in my life being honest about why I wasn’t coming in – sadness, not a headache), I called my mom who I knew would pull the ache out of me and comfort it enough so that I could put it back inside.

She did, but…

Then I got back in bad and didn’t emerge until 2pm.

The thing about depression is that you are granted the super power of sleeping away your life. I wasn’t physically tired at all, but I was so emotionally strung out that closing my eyes and clearing my mind was the only way to make the ache go away. When I would wake up and see the hours ticking by, I had to close my eyes again so that I could ignore the fact that I was being taken over. That my day was being wasted by forced sleep.

Paul was brilliant with me today and actually got me out of bed and sitting on the couch. From there until now at 6pm, I’ve managed to get some groceries, check my work email and write this post. For most people that would take 45 minutes. For me, it took 4 hours.

At the moment I’m self-medicating by drinking a screwdriver – a drink that I don’t think I’ve ever had in my life. But it’s all we have in the house and I got sick and tired of feeling awful. I’m sipping on it, numbing the ugliness that’s coursing through my heart and praying to God that when I wake up tomorrow, I’ll feel strong enough to wake up, get showered, put on clothes, comb the hair, grab the ipod, walk to the elevator, get IN it and start my day.

But for my life to be a crap shoot of emotions…it’s enough to drive someone mad.

I remember when I was younger; I would get an extreme migraine headache every two weeks, without fail. I remember my parents making plans for the family right after my headache and hoping that I wouldn’t get it the day of the event (if only we planned EVERYTHING ahead of time, we could bypass the obstacle). Sometimes it worked and sometimes it didn’t, but all times I would be afraid of that moment when the lights would flash in front of my eyes, the ache in my left eye would start, and the migraine would barrel through full force. Once the process started, I was incapacitated for two days, minimum.

That’s how I feel now.

I can’t predict the day I’m going to be debilitated by my depression. I can’t make it happen on a day when I have nothing to do. In fact, it very rarely works that way. It almost always happens during the week, versus the weekend.

But living in fear that I’m going to wake up one day and not be able to live my life…that’s the worst. It’s a day flushed right down the toilet. It’s a day spent in the prison of my mind. If I wake up and feel that ache, it’s almost impossible that I’ll rise above it.

The one positive thing (and what I used to LOVE about coming down from a migraine), is that it’s very near impossible for me to feel as bad tomorrow, as I did today. The odds of me having a bad week now are slim to none. It can honestly only go up from here.

To have a life where you don’t deal with this type of mental handicap…

It’s a gift. Be thankful.

What’s BIG in ‘06

Cuz if Joe says it’s big, you betta believe it’s big. Like, hard, erect, pulsating, kind of big. Eat it up folks! Eat. It. Up.

I am an AVID reader of Entertainment Weekly and it is a COLD day in hell-O (operator) when I actually find something I don’t agree with. For example…Jason Mraz’s album Mr. A-Z was on their “10 Worst Albums of 2005” list and it CLEARLY was not. If Ashley Simpson didn’t make the list, surely you don’t put my boy Razzie on there. But I digress…I’m always digressing. I should calm down a bit in ’06. So, in accordance with Joe and fully supported by EW articles, I give you my listing.

First things first…if you are not watching Bravo’s hit reality series Project Runway, I just don’t know what to say to you. I’ve given the “Runway” a shout out in this journal before and there is clearly no reason why you aren’t tuning in. The show is snarky and fun and full of fashion ridiculousness. The casting is genius, so you’re watching people who have more crazy in their head then they do talent. Its addictive good fun and I encourage, no DEMAND you at least give it a shot. There are only 7 contestants left before we head over to NYC Fashion week where the winner will be announced. Please save yourself and me the trouble of scolding you later on for missing out on sheer brilliance.

Ok…Lost came back from the break a little weak, but that doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t already be on board with this phenomenally addictive show. I mean, people! What does it take for you to appreciate art in its truest form?? Characters get killed off left and right. There are secrets upon secrets upon…well…secrets, I guess. There is also a black smoke type monster that eats people. And most importantly, it’s time slot couldn’t be any more perfect: Wednesday nights at 9pm on ABC. Did you read that right? Wednesday nights at 9pm oh whatever, just watch it and be amazed.

The newest and most obnoxious installment of The Real World/Road Rules Challenge on MTV is so fucking trashy and perfect, I’ve seen each episode a minimum of three times. It’s so embarrassing that Paul catches me quoting the lines from it when he’s cooking dinner. And it’s not even scripted TV. No one watches the show to see the actual challenges. We watch it because the people are out of their damn minds. They slap and claw and call each other “cunts”. And to me…on a lazy Saturday afternoon, that’s all I ask for out of a television show.

South Park is still one of THE most brilliant and offensive shows on television. I’m chomping at the bits to see what social issues they’ll tackle this time around – as if the Terri Schiavo case, Siamese twins, pedophilia, and NAMBLA (North American Man/Boy Love Association) weren’t enough. The thing about South Park is that the creators, Trey Parker and Matt Stone, push the envelope so far that you CAN’T get pissed off at them. Just pull the stick out of your ass, allow yourself to let in the funny, and go with it. I promise you won’t be disappointed.

Beyonce’s new song and video for “Check On It” is exactly why millions of people buy her music. She’s still fun, can actually sing and dance, and her songs are always catchy, ear candy. True, I enjoyed Destiny’s Child when they were going strong and surprising even myself, I was addicted to Beyonce’s solo album “Dangerously in Love”. Here’s to hoping that this chick has some hot tracks coming up in ’06 and here’s hoping that she will come to my next birthday party and sing “Bootylicious” in my honor.

Anderson Cooper is my main man. Has been for a very long time. But now that CNN has upgraded him to hot shit anchorman, I am in heaven! Obviously I love him mostly for his brilliant news coverage and natural charisma, but also, I LOVE his style, and his handsome face. I could stare at this cool drink of water all day long. His silver hair, his piercing eyes…the news has never been so much fun to watch. And like I said, his show is good too. Ha. He is on every Monday-Friday from 10pm-12am and his show is called “Anderson Cooper 360” (if I could figure out how to put the little degree symbol there, I totally would. Anything for my Anderson). Give him a shot and you might actually learn something about world politics while trying to figure out how to marry this fine man. P.S. – Rumor is that he could be gay. Oh God in Heaven Above…do me one favor and let me meet Anderson Cooper. I just KNOW that we would hit it off and he would ask me to move into his new penthouse apartment on West 38th Street.

Without going crazy over it, let me give one quick shout out to Medium, starring Patricia Arquette. The show doesn’t break any new ground, but for the last two seasons, I’ve been hoooooooooooked. The acting is wonderful, the stories are quick and concise (although wrapped up a little too easy sometimes), and it’s on at the PERFECT time of night. I mean, unless you’re out whoring yourself around town, what ARE you doing at 10pm on Monday? Tune to NBC and settle in for an easy, light, family drama.

Sure, everyone is going crazy ape shit over Brokeback Mountain and of course I can’t blame them. Finally a REAL gay movie that is making a difference in Middle America! But differences aside, get thee ass to the theater and see King Kong on the big screen while you still can. My God. I sat there in the theater with my jaw lying on the floor. The visual effects are absolutely mind-blowing, stunning, cutting edge, and they shocked my shit right to the core. Obviously you know that Kong has a rough go at the end of the movie and I would be lying if I said I DIDN’T tear up. How could a hot gay man like me fall in love with a big ass gorilla like Kong? Oh yeah…that’s not really a good example…I PREFER to date big ass gorillas. My bad. Just go fucking see this movie. Don’t wait for the DVD. I promise you it won’t have the same effect.

Now for the things I’m looking forward to in 2006:

Nip/Tuck - With plot lines like this, how could you NOT become a Julian McMahon addict!?! This shit is off the hook!
Superman Returns - cuz why not?
Playstation 3 - bring it ON!
Scary Movie 4 - Holy fucking shit this series of movies makes me CRY with laughter.
The DaVinci Code - please just be HALF as good as the book.
HBO’s Entourage - so obnoxious and so perfect.

Stay tuned for the crap that is NOT impressing me as of late. The L Word anyone? YAWNSVILLE!

More to cum…

For the Love of Tyler

As you should know by now, my parents gave me a new puppy for Christmas! He is a miniature, wire-haired dachshund. I named him Tyler and he was born on October 2nd, which makes him just over 3 months old, although he’s still so tiny. In fact, he’s so tiny that I’ve found myself losing him inside of my apartment, which as any New Yorker knows, is not THAT big.

In any case, when I first laid eyes on Tyler, I was enamored. He has the most thoughtful and beautiful eyes and his personality is so kind and gentle and well…happy. He hasn’t had a bad day yet and as far as I can tell, he hasn’t really had a bad moment. That is until I came into his life.

For the first week that I had Tyler, I was in my parent’s house in Albany. With him not housetrained, I was blessed to have my parents running around the house helping me clean up his shit and piss. Since he’s still a baby…er…puppy, he needs constant attention and he chews on everything he can get into his mouth. But like I said, when I had my parents helping me out, I barely realized how much work it was.

My parents came down for New Year’s and they left early in the morning on New Year’s Day. They didn’t wake Tyler up because we all thought it would be easier for him to adjust to his new home if he didn’t have my mom cuddling him right before she walked out the door.

When I woke up on New Year’s Day, I looked at Tyler’s deep brown eyes and I thought, “I can’t do this. I can’t be responsible for him.” Although these horrific thoughts were going through my mind, I refused to tell anyone how I was feeling. I mean, what jackass begs for a dog, has their parents fly a pure bred in from Arizona, pay for most of the shots and present him as a gift on Christmas, only to turn around and say “I don’t want him”?

Tyler is perfect. Joe is not. My entire life has changed and for the last week and a half, I’ve felt as though he was more of an imposition than he was a joy. Although he jumps immediately into the air with excitement when he sees me, I found myself feeling ugly about the whole situation. I wanted to love him the way he loved me. But I just couldn’t. Something was holding me back…

Over the weekend, I started to tell people that I had “post-partum depression”; as though I birthed Tyler out of my vaginal canal. But you understand. I felt as though this adorable little dog wasn’t right for me, mostly because it wasn’t the right time in my life. As most of you know, I’ve just recently entered into this new phase of my life where I’m independent and liberated and free…for the first time in over 5 years.

Tyler stripped a lot of that independence away. I could no longer go out after work and party with my friends. I had to be home right away to be with the puppy. I could no longer stay in bed all day and wallow in my depression…I tried that, but Tyler pissed all over my comforter. I could no longer use whatever extra cash I had on something special for myself. Instead, I’m already trying to scrape together enough money to get him a distemper shot. This shit all began to pile up and I started to resent Tyler. A lot.

On Sunday night I was trying to sleep, and as any of you new puppy owners know, they don’t sleep through the night. In fact, they only sleep for a maximum of 3 hours before they have to either piss or shit or run around the place with their new toys. After a week of no sleep and considering that I’m someone who absolutely needs 8 hours of sleep a night, I was at my wit’s end. It was 2am and I was dreaming of a life with no responsibilities when all of a sudden Tyler jumped out of his bed and started barking as loud as he could. I woke up and did my daddy duties of “No Tyler. No barking Tyler. NO Tyler”, but he refused to stop and I tossed and turned for a few minutes before screaming at the top of my lungs “SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

It’s been 4 days and I STILL can’t rid myself of the guilt. He looked at me with his puppy eyes and I put my head under my pillow mortified that I lost my patience to such a degree.

Paul and I were having dinner on Monday night and he said “You know Joe…you need to have a little more patience with Tyler. You can’t yell at him the way you did. It’s not good.” I sat there at dinner and tears filled my eyes.

I KNOW that. I am “Mr. Animal Concerns” and I totally verbally abused him. It’s one thing to reprimand and to scold…trust me…I’m doing it every five seconds with him. But it’s totally another thing to scream that loud in your dog’s face. Tyler has since forgotten about the incident, but every time it crosses my mind, I get sick to my stomach. I fucked up.

On Tuesday night, I called my dear friend Ari, who has been raising dogs for years and explained the situation. She was nothing, but supportive, and literally wiped my tears over the phone. I may have just given up had I not talked to her at that moment. While on the phone with Ari, my mom called to check on what she calls “My little baby”. I answered the phone and my mom said “Hi Joe! I just wanted to see how it was going with the new cutie?” “Mom”, I said “I don’t know if I can do this and I feel terrible.” Tears flowed down my face as I relayed the whole story to her.

My mom, being the most wonderful woman that she is, listened to every word that came out of my mouth and she didn’t judge me nor make me feel bad for having the frustrations and the worry that I did. In fact, she explained to me that when she first had me, she wanted nothing more than to shove me back into her vagina. She said “Joe, it takes a while for this type of adjustment. But you will eventually grow to love him more than you ever thought was possible. And puppies are a lot of work and it just seems overwhelming right now. That will all change with time.”

I must have been on the phone with her for over an hour while I cried and she pulled me up and set me back on my feet.

Yesterday I woke up and Tyler was in his bed, which rests next to my pillow. I opened my eyes and Tyler’s snout was resting on my pillow, next to my face. As soon as my eyes opened, he stuck his little tongue out and licked my nose. My heart warmed and I kissed him on his furry face. We snuggled some more before I had to go to work.

When I had thought about getting a dog, I imagined that I would fall in love with him right away. It’s been frustrating that I don’t automatically feel that way, but I’m learning to take it day by day and to grow with the experience. Tyler is a wonderful dog and he will always have a happy home for as long as he’s alive. I just never thought that having a baby would change my life in so many new and challenging ways.

You’re Fagged…er…Tagged!

My dear friend, Ari, fagged me this morning and luckily you all benefit from finding out about some of the weird shit that I do when no one else is around. Did I say “lucky”? I meant, sucky.

The first player of this game starts with the topic “five weird habits of yourself,” and people who get tagged need to write an entry about their five weird habits as well as state this rule clearly. In the end, you need to choose the next five people to be tagged and link to their web journals. Don’t forget to leave a comment in their blog or journal that says “You have been tagged” (assuming they take comments) and tell them to read yours.

They call this type of game a “MeMe”. That’s weird. Is it cuz it’s a game all about yourself? Like, all about Me…Me. MEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEME. Hmph.

Five Weird Habits of Myself

1) If I’m about to play a videogame or watch something on TV that I’ve been dying to see, I squeeze my eyes shut really tight until I feel it “click” within my brain. If I don’t hold them shut long enough, I have to squeeze even harder until I really feel it. Then I can play my game or watch my movie. I think that’s called OCD, but I’m pretending like it’s totally normal.

2) I sing. A LOT. I’m talking all the time. If I’m home alone, I’m mostly singing. If Paul is home, I’m walking around…singing. I practice singing, I sing for fun, and I make up songs with tunes that are running through my head. I sing harmony to songs that really don’t need harmony added to them. For example…there is this annoying commercial on TV these days that showcases the song Yellow Polkadot Bikini. Without even realizing it, I sing the entire thing over and over in harmony every single time it comes on. Sometimes I’m singing and I don’t even realize that I’m doing it. I’ll catch myself and be like “SHUT UP! PEOPLE CAN HEAR YOU IN THE HALLWAY OF YOUR APARTMENT BUILDING!” Then I start singing again. It’s enough to drive a person crazy. But oddly enough, singing makes me feel just a little bit better than not singing.

3) I’ve mentioned this one in my journal before, but it’s totally appropriate for this MEMEMEMEMEME, so I figured I would use it again. Because I’m an actor or because I’m legitimately crazy, I have this thing where I pretend like I’m one of the characters in whatever show I’m watching. If the character is crying, I listen and respond to the other actor and I try to do the lines as best as I can. If I can get the tears to come, I rock it out and let them flow while saying my “lines”. I’ll do this exercise with movies, sitcoms, reality TV, whatever…just as long as I’m a pivotal player in the scene I’m watching. Someone needs to get their ass in a new play!

4) In the morning, after I’m all dressed and have my hair combed, I look in the mirror and I smile and say “Thank you”. Just cuz I want to see what I look like when I graciously say “Thank you” to whoever told me that I look handsome that day. God, that’s so lame and egotistical.

5) I still bite my fingernails like a beastmaster. “But Joe…after riding the subway and not washing your hands once throughout the day, isn’t it disgusting to then put your fingers in your mouth?” No, not really. In fact, it tastes better. Yet, oddly enough, lately I’ve been washing my hands before I eat dinner. Cuz its one thing to put your fingers in your mouth when biting your nails, it’s totally another to put them in your mouth when you are eating dinner.

I mean, I knew I was a crazy bitch before I even wrote this list. However, now I feel like I’m not only crazy, I’m nasty and more of an oddball than I was in highschool. But at lesat it’s all about MEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEME.

The five people I choose to tag with this MEEMS are:
Brandon, because he writes a bodybuilding blog and it would be nice to know a little bit more about him…although I have doubts that he will actually do this. In any case…
Adam, because it’s about time he wrote in his journal again and he makes me laugh to the point of tears. And also, cuz I think he’s a pretty special guy.
Wicked H, cuz I don’t read that many journals, but when I do, she has one of the first sites I visit. ADORE the Wicked H.
Diaspora South, because his journal is fucking hilarity – when appropriate of course. Even if he doesn’t do this MEMEMEMEME, you should definitely check out his take on “Only Simchas”. If you don’t know what that means, prepare to DIE of laughter when you visit him.
Rosie, cuz she has been nothing but a support and inspiration for this website. She’s one of my first readers and definitely one of my faves.

Be good all!

Happy New Year to Everyone!

Well, I’m finally back. I was back in Albany for over a week and then when I finally got back to work, I was so swamped with shit to do that journal writing was just impossible. But I’m catching up and before I even get started with that shit today, I figured I’d better post. Otherwise, I’m sure you would have all thought that I ended up in a Blockbuster movie, married a prince, and moved to some remote location in the Caribbean. Or that I was on a major drug binge. Whichever.

My Christmas was FANTASTIC this year. I got to spend a whole week with my brother and we played endless amounts of videogames, smoked endless amounts of pot, and stayed up until at least 3am every night, only to wake up by 9am to hang out with my mom, who had taken the week off from work. By the time I got back to NYC, I was so ready for a napski.

As usual, my parents went WAY overboard with the gift giving this year. Clothes and movies and cologne and games and so many things that by the last present, I was so embarrassed that at 28 years old, my parents are STILL taking care of me as though I was a tiny, slobbering, baby. But a happy baby nonetheless.

Speaking of babies, my big gift this year was a PUPPY! The day I got home my parents asked me to bring in some shit from the shed in the backyard. When I opened the door, I was greeted by the smallest, most beautiful, miniature wire-haired dachshund that you’ve ever seen! He was wagging his tail and immediately crawled into my arms. It was an incredibly surreal moment and I couldn’t have been more shocked or more awed. Cuz you know…shock and awe.

I named the puppy Tyler (pictures forthcoming), a name which I had picked out in my head months ago. I figure, if I don’t ever end up having a baby, I wanted to name my dog with one of my favorite names. Plus, Tyler can be shortened to “Ty”, “Ty Ty”, “Ty-Guy”, “Monster Mash”. You understand.

I’ve now had the pups for exactly two weeks. He’s adjusting to NYC life and he’s the cutest little dog I’ve ever met. In particular, he has this thing where he jumps around like a bunny. He hops and hops, cuz his legs are so little, they won’t do what his mind wants them to do. So he hops and I laugh and then I feed him carrots and call him little bunny foo foo. Ok, no I don’t. My dog is no foo foo. He’s a scrapper and he will not turn out to be gay, no matter what he was pre-destined to be. Hypocritical, no?

I feel like my parents probably did when at the age of 8 I asked for a baton for Christmas. I wanted to be a cheerleader and a gymnast so badly. Scary thing is, they totally bought me the baton and then were actually surprised when I came out of the closet at age 21. Harrumph.

Tyler and I do everything together. Mostly because he won’t leave my side for even a second when I’m home. He has to sit at my feet while I take a shit, eat his puppy chow with one eye looking in my direction, takes a piss on his doggie pads but runs after me while pissing if I happen to get up to do something. It’s pretty fucking adorable. I’ve turned into this father who is surprisingly good at disciplining and loving all at the same time. When I tell him “No bite, Tyler”, or “No barking Tyler”, he cocks his head to the side, gives up one more yelp, and then rolls on his back. He’ll get it eventually, but it’s very encouraging that he recognizes that I’m the boss. And he loves me regardless.

He’s quite a special guy.

In other news, I had a kick ass New Year’s. I spent the day with my parents, playing the new Madden football game, making CD mixes, and taking naps. Then around 10pm, I went to a killer party in the coolest NYC apartment around. There were tons of people there and I actually developed a crush on my first black man ever! He was beautiful and masculine and was interested in me too – that is until he saw me dancing with my friends. I saw the look of “My GOD that is kid is so white” cross his face and I immediately ran from the room. He hung around at the end of the party and I swear he was waiting for me to approach him, but my insecurity got the best of me and I let well enough alone. Been kicking myself about that ever since.

The party went on for hours and I spent a good deal of it meeting new people and smoking joints on the terrace. Everyone around me, including myself, ended up getting completely trashed and I knew it was time to go home. I mentioned that to my friends and they said that they wanted to stay for another hour or so. Against my usually conservative judgment, I stayed too and watched as people started falling all over the DJ’s mixing board, against the food table, and down the 3 steps that led to the kitchen area. I was no better. I found a bottle of wine in the host’s fridge and I opened it. Yet, when I turned around to get a glass, I ended up knocking the bottle over and it poured all down the back of their stove. OOOOOOOOOOPS. I knew I should have gone home when I felt like it was time.

Other than that, the new people I met were great, but I kept finding myself offending them for no good reason. For example, there was this one girl wearing a mink coat or some shit. I went up to her and began nuzzling my face in her jacket. She turned around and smiled and I looked at her and said “In one pocket I had a nuzzle. In the other pocket I had a bucket of blood. You’re lucky I chose the nuzzle.” I laughed and laughed, because even drunk, fur is still disgusting. But she didn’t laugh and her face screwed up into this animal killer type face and I farted and left. As is expected, I did my best to avoid her for the rest of the night.

I finally returned to work on Tuesday and everyone was really excited to see me and to hear about the new puppy. For a couple of days, I felt like “Wow, I love this job and I really should just be happy with what I’ve got goin on here.” Now it’s Friday and I feel like “Wow, I’ve been at this job for almost 5 years and it’s time to do something else!” SNORES and VILLE.

I’m so glad it’s the weekend. Tonight I’m hanging out with my dear friend Angie and then I’m off to a party in the East Village. It should be a crazy and fun night and I’m very much looking forward to it. Tomorrow I have lunch plans, which may turn into dinner plans depending on how late I get to bed, and then on Sunday, I’m throwing a brunch for some of my gays that I haven’t seen in millenniums.

The new year has started off on the right foot for me and I wish there was some way that I could wrap up this good mood in a bottle and open it up again in a few weeks when I’m feeling low. More than anything, I want this to be the year when my life takes a major turn in a new direction – a direction that leads me down the path of a true career, a true sense of independence. Last year was my chance to get a grip on everything “Joe” and I think I did quite an excellent job. I’ve rid myself of almost every single boy I was casually dating and thankfully, I’ve rid myself of the guys that were totally oppressing, controlling, and condescending. It’s a new year and I finally feel like I’m living my own life – making my own mistakes, my own achievements, and counting on no one else but myself.

It feels super fucking liberating and super fucking great.

At the end of this month, I will have been writing in this journal for 4 years. I can’t even believe it myself. Other than my long term relationship, which came to a grinding halt in October, this has been the most committed I’ve ever been to anything. I’m really proud of the work I’ve done on these here pages. For awhile I felt trapped by my own website, but as I change, so does the content and format of this journal. It’s really wonderful to be able to look back at who I was back then and how far I’ve really come.

My New Year’s resolution this year: Be proud of myself, love myself, and treat myself with the utmost respect. It’s about time after all.