Glass House...Throwing Stones

You Give Good Laugh

2012-02-09T19:15:00.001-05:00

I love to laugh…and I especially love a good laugh. Not just some ordinary “ha-ha that was funny laugh”, but a” deep, hearty, pause-the-DVD-because-this-is-going-to-be-a-while-laugh”

The kind of laugh where you end up panting and gasping for breath…tears streaming down your face, with that brief realization that you just may have pee’d a little. Where your body is heaving and convulsing like you’re having a seizure. And then there are the little aftershocks of giggle-fits you have when you re-live what made you laugh in the first place.

Sounds like an orgasm, doesn’t it? Only difference is a laugh won’t be followed by some combination of shame, disappointment, or regret. Point, comedy!

The Ex-Files

2012-01-17T04:55:00.000-05:00

OK…it was bound to happen, it being a small,gay world in all. With dreadedanticipation, you know that you will eventually run into your ex. Regardless of how the break-up, however, thehope is the same…please don’t let it be on a day I look like hell.

It had been several months since I last sawMark. With the exception of a textmessage he sent around Christmas, there hadn’t been any communicationeither. I was fine with that. But I knew that our paths were bound to crossat some point. I nervously wondered, howI would react. Would he speak first? Would I be cold/angry/bitter? And in the same you’d tense up your musclesto take a punch to the stomach, I entered numerous social situations wonderingif this would be the occasion. And eachtime, nothing.

So, of course, it would be the one night I’mnot even thinking about seeing him. Justa standard Saturday night in New Haven out with the boys…nothing special. I’m having a conversation with a friend, andas I look over my shoulder I see him about six feet away from me. I don’t know if he saw me first or if he sawme see him. But in any case, I knew thisnight would not end without some sort of interaction.

It was kind of a crowded night, so it wasgoing to take some effort for either of us to approach the other. Personally, I was determined not to approachhim, and I continued my conversation with the group. That didn’t matter, however, as he was theone who eventually edged through the crowd to say hello to me. We grabbed hands around people in the crowdand kissed cheeks (so gay, I know). Hesaid hello, and I responded in kind and then went back to my conversation…nottotally bitchy and cold, but definitely not warm.

Eventually, I went over to him to speak tohim a little more graciously than the initial exchange. I was pushing myself to be the bigger person,be more cordial…blah, blah, blah. But Iwill confess that it wasn’t all in the vain of taking the high road. Two things…(1) I was looking cute and feelinggood, and (2) I was out with friends and having a good time. Those are two factors you always want in yourfavor when you run into an ex, and you definitely don’t want to squander suchan opportunity.

Additionally, his new boyfriend was in tow…Iscoped that earlier when I first saw him, at least it was a safe assumptionfrom what I saw. There is a universalcuriosity to find out who replaced you…though I don’t know that he was theimmediate one who followed me, but that’s irrelevant…as Adele sang, we couldhave had it all, but we didn’t, so in the very least this is the guy with whomhe trying.

The one take-away for me is that it doesn’tmatter so much if the new boyfriend is better looking or not. If he’s more attractive, you feel inadequateas well as rejected. If he’s less attractive,the thought that you were passed over for an inferior option pisses youoff. At the end of the day, however, thelament is that the relationship is over, and there is some residual pain thatnever truly goes away. Although, that isnot to say there isn’t some small amount of glee enjoyed when the reality isthe latter as opposed to former. And forthe record, boyfriend had bad skin and was unfortunate looking.

Under Construction

2012-01-17T03:52:00.000-05:00

Sometimes you have to put things out there inthe universe that make sure you hold yourself accountable.

About a year and a half ago, I made anattempt to complete the P90X program…it was around the time that every gay washopping on the bandwagon. Because Ididn’t want to seem like one of the body-obsessed queens, I didn’t make a bigdeal about it, and I kept that information to myself. Also, in case it didn’t work or if I fell offthe wagon, I wouldn’t have to bear the shame of a public failure.

Well, the program started out ok. First of all, the program is just as intenseas described, especially if your fitness level is already questionable. But, I wasn’t daunted. I actually enjoyed the sweat and bodypump…the results were my focus, and I wanted to succeed. However, I knew my history, and the chancesof my flaking out were better than average. So, when I made past the first two and a half weeks of the programwithout faltering, I thought I had turned a new leaf. Add to that, the fact that the only time Ihad to work out was in the morning before work, and I would have to wake up at5am, I was really charting new territory. Even better, I’d be hot by P-Town.

And then came vacation…what, I get to sleepin? No big deal…even better then that Iget to have a little extra and then I work out at 9am…right? WRONG!! Old habits were alive and well, and one skipped day soon becametwo. One week off quickly elapsed to onemonth, and before I knew it, my gains had all leveled out. Because other improved habits (i.e. diet)continued, and I was still playing tennis, I didn’t totally hit the skids, butthe original goal of completing that program was a bust. Good thing I kept it all quiet though…no oneknew I was doing it, so no one knew I fell of the wagon, and I was able toslink away from my failure and keep the shame private.

Fast-forward to 2012. As I mulled the life changes I hoped to makefor this year, a renewed fitness plan quickly moved to the top of thelist. Ahh…perhaps I would take another stabat P90X?? But when would I do it? How would I make sure not to fall off thewagon again?

Well, as my work schedule moves back to anightshift, I all of a sudden have an open day-part of my schedule. Certainly I can find the time to workout? Point. But how can I motivate myself to not flakeout? A-HA…the threat of publicshame! It’s one thing to set a personalgoal and keep it private. Success can beloudly proclaimed upon achievement of the goal, and if necessary, failure canbe a secret that is kept in the closet.

No, I’m done with closets. So, I put it out there in the universe, and Iwill own it. In simple terms, anyfailure would be just as public as any success...ego alone becomes a hugemotivator. In the grander scheme,however, there’s the wisdom of setting a goal that never leaves yoursight. I can keep it in my head, but itgets crowded in there. With that comesthe chance of losing sight of the objective and falling short. As with every other aspect of life, no gainscan be achieved if you don’t put yourself out there. So, it’s out there…it’s attainable.

So, maybe I am just like the othersuperficial queens. Call me a bitch…butat least you’ll no longer be able to call me a fat bitch. AND WHAT!

Mr. Jackson...if you're NASTY!

2012-01-12T01:43:00.000-05:00

I went on a coffee date with this guy namedMark a little over a month ago…seriously, could I please meet someone with adifferent name? Please??

Anyway…while we had since made plans to goout again, we haven’t been able to synch of schedules to follow through;however, we have chatted back and forth.

Well, during our most recent conversation,just following the holidays, we talked about our outlooks for the comingyear. In the long and short of it, hemakes the comment that for 2012, he’s not looking for Mr. Right as much as heis looking for Mr. Williams.

Immediately, I waxed philosophical at hisstatement thinking what a great outlook…looking to find oneself, and in sodoing, opening yourself up to find that special someone, to which he replied,no. It wasn’t about finding himself asmuch as finding a man to put a ring on it. Not to mention, it would be a way of holding someone accountable shouldthe relationship not last for the duration.

[Side note: Clearly, I was the only jackass who went philosophical on the statementbecause in re-telling the story, everyone immediately saw his intention asfinding the man he wanted to marry.]

Hmm…that reply left me with pause for a fewreasons. First, knowing his overridingmotivation, what does that mean for me should we manage to go out again? Mind you, he didn’t say he meant that hewanted to marry me, but if that were his ultimate intention, wouldn’t it be awaste of my (our) time if my intentions weren’t similar? Secondly, while marriage isn’t off the tablefor me down the road, it’s not my targeted focus as I am in believer in thewhole “a watched pot never boils” thing.

Finally, though, it seems to me that he’slooking for someone he can fold into his life. That’s all well and good, but I’m looking for someone to share my lifewith…not subjugate, and in the end, I am and will always be Mr. Jackson.

Good Riddance 2011!!

2011-12-31T16:36:00.002-05:00

I, for one, am not sad to see 2011 end. As far as years go, this one was a kick inthe crotch with steel-toe boots. It hasbeen an incredibly difficult year, and it’s pretty much been that way fromjump. It began with tremendouspotential. It is often said that how youspend new years is an indicator of how you’ll spend the rest of the year.

Well, I spent new years blissfully happy witha great guy. I then spent much of 2011in a broken-hearted funk. And much to mydisappointment, it was incredibly tough to shake. And unfortunately, I allowed it to permeatemy outlook on so many other things.

The hits kept coming as the situation backhome continued to decline. My mother’scondition didn’t improve. My brothercontinued to spiral downward. My fatherhas been working to hard to keep it all together with mixed results. Unfortunately, my efforts to intervene havenot been entirely welcome.

Also, in 2011, I bid farewell to mygrandmother. I was closest to her of allmy grandparents. As she had been indeclining health, her ultimate passing wasn’t a surprise. My reflection on her life and her indomitablespirit is what helped me steer away from the funk I found myself in.

Thankfully, as we moved toward the end of2011, things took a brighter tone. I wasable to find some solace in the bonds I shared with my best friends. Additionally, throughout the year, I evenmanaged to make some new friends. Professionally, I took a step in a new direction. Not necessarily the opportunity I wasplanning for, but sometimes the best things begin as unexpecteddevelopments.

So, the trial that was 2011 comes to aclose. Not the banner year I thought itmight be, but it provided much along the lines of growth opportunities andself-reflection. It was a rough one, butI emerge stronger for it. There is stillmuch to be done in 2012, but I am ready to face it head-on.

Good riddance 2011…it’s been real, it’s beenfun, but it has not been real fun!!

In Like...

2011-10-22T15:58:00.002-04:00

How do you know if you like someone? My theory is you know you really like someonewhen you think about him or her while you’re having sex with someone else. So, in that case, I like a boy.

Of course, I don’t know if he likes me back,but that’s the way it goes, right? Theones who like you, are attentive and present, and clear in their feelings arerarely the ones who gain traction. Rather, the guys who are more enigmatic and aloof are the ones whoresonate..oi vey!

But this is neither here nor there. The heart wants what it wants. The boy in question for my story is a totalsweetheart and adorable. It’s still sortof up in the air whether he likes me back, but I’m going to be optimisticallyhopeful. I definitely hope to get toknow him better.

Bigger picture…regardless of how this turns out,it is a happy place for me. So much ofthis year has been spent in a funky headspace wondering if I would be open totrusting my emotions again. Evidently, Iam. As with so many other things, itjust takes time.

Halloween Hooker

2011-10-22T14:41:00.000-04:00

For a long time I had very littleinterest in Halloween. Pretty much after I outgrew the desire to go trickor treating, I couldn't careless. Nowadays, trick or treating has a wholedifferent meaning :-)

Anyway, somewhere over the pastfive years or so, however, it has become an occasion very much anticipated. The idea of playing dress up...creating a character. Toying withthe thought of donning full out drag...although, I've yet to pull that trigger. A big part is the effort involved, and having recently grown a beard, I'mnot overly keen on shaving it off for a costume. But the main reason issimply that I would not be a pretty girl, and I don't want to do it if I can'tbe pretty!

Thoughts of Halloween invariablytake you back to childhood. In grammar school, we always were allowed todress up and have a party, except for the year in fourth grade when Mrs.Brotspies punished the class by taking away that privilege because there were anumber of bad asses in the class who fucked it up for all of us...but Idigress. It's actually the third grade year stands out the most. Itwasn't because of my costume that year. I was a hobo, really simple andkind of lame. It was one of my classmates actually that I have a fondmemory of.

Nicole White...pretty, littlegirl. One of the few black girls with long hair, and as this was longbefore the days of weaves, it was definitely her own hair. So, as we areall changing into out costumes for the parade at recess, Nicole starts pullingout the accoutrement for her costume: curly wig, mini skirt, red heels. As we are all sharing our costume identities with each other, it was witha huge grin and gleam in her eye that Nicole announces that she's going to be ahooker. It was so hilarious, and we all had a great laugh about it.

It wasn't until a handful ofyears ago when I was recounting this memory tha I realized that it wasn't somuch funny as it was tragic. There we are in the third grade...no morethan 7 or 8 years old...and there's this little girl whose Halloween costume isa hooker! So many things wrong with that in retrospect. Off thebat, you have a little girl whose young life experience includes the knowledgeof what a hooker is. Then, there's the thought of how this idea even cameto fruition. Did she go to her mother and say, " I wanna be a hookerfor Halloween. " And then mama replies, "Sure thing baby!". Evenworst thought, did this idea germinate with her mother? When you'reyoung, sometimes your parent decides what you're going to dress as forHalloween. I shudder to think this was something foisted upon her by hermother! Stranger things, though right?

But could you imagine if thathappened today? The minute the kid showed up at school announcing she wasa hooker. The outrage that would erupt. Then again, in this day andage, it would probably be less of a surprise. Given the sexualpromiscuity and teenage pregnancy rates, the influence is definitely there. Hell, take Nicole's costume and change the label from hooker to KimKardashian...whole different story. Hmm, I guess the bigger surprise isthat there aren't more hookers on the schoolyard. At least when Nicoleput her costume together, she had to borrow everything from her mother. Today,a young girl could likely pull all the pieces together from her own wardrobe.

I have often wondered what happened toNicole...not in light of this incident. Just the same way I wonder howother classmates turned out. Could you imagine if she ended up being ahooker at some point?

Show Me Yours...

2011-10-01T15:20:00.001-04:00

***WARNING...THE FOLLOWING BLOG POST CONTAINS NUDITY. PARENTAL DISCRETION IS ADVISED***

Seriously?!?! I mean,you have to take into account your surroundings. When you're online and the site is primarilyutilized to broker hook-ups, you can't be surprised at some of the things youcome across. However, I still can't helpbut shake my head at the audacity of some people...

First of all, let me just say that I'm not opposed to seeinga picture of a guy's junk. My like forpenises is one of the leading factors to my proclivity for kissing boys. Oh yeah, I can guarantee you that every gayboy has at least two penis pics on his cell phone...his own and the own someguy sent him. Most have more than that. That's why most gay boys are reluctant to letyou scroll through their pictures.

However, I'm gonna go there and say this...if you have apretty penis, go ahead and forward it to me.

This is a nice one.

This one...not so much.

But if you don't have a nice looking penis, don't botherhitting send. I mean, the intent is toentice me, right? At least, it shouldmake me think, "I so want to taste that!"

Another thing...in card games, it's customary to lead offwith your Ace. Same could be said in theskin pic trade. Sooo...if you start offan online chat with a pic of your a picture of your spread ass cheeks, I'mgoing to assume that is your best side...i.e., your ass is cuter than yourface.

Oh yeah...finally, at least say hi. What response are really expecting when youstart a chat with this picture?

This picture was sent unsolicited. I responded by saying, "Oh damn that's hot. What's your address? I want you lubed and ready when I getthere!"

He did send me his address. I had chicken parm for dinner and made a night of it on my couch. Yeah, that was a little foul...but I'm kindof bitch at times. What?! Are we meeting for the first time?

But in the interest of full disclosure, if hewere cuter and NOT like 300 pounds, there might have been a different ending tothat story. Oh yeah, I can also be kindof slutty. But hey introduce me to a mowho isn't!

2011-09-13T22:18:00.001-04:00

I re-visited an old haunt, Koji, last night for a bite and a drink. Now, Koji has been dying a slow death for a while now, so I didn’t have much expectation. Surprisingly, it wasn’t totally dead, and there was a new-ish bartender named Rita working. First off, she was working these pumps, which I considered ballsy given that as a bartender she would be on her feet for the shift. She had a full-sleeve tattoo and huge knockers, which turned out to be implants. We found that out because there was another patron (a woman) who loved her tattoo and expressed her interest in getting a tattoo of her own. After making that connection, this woman goes on to mention that her own breasts were “brand new” and she admired Rita’s rack and asked where she had them done. I guess you can just easily spot a breast job that way. She then invites Rita to feel hers, and then she feels Rita’s …I guess that also happens between girls with implants.

So…this is not the reason she’s awesome. She starts telling us a story about her boyfriend…this cute Irish guy was actually at the bar. Somehow it comes up that he’s pretty well-endowed for an Irish guy…I didn’t know that was a hit or miss deal. She tells us a story about how when they first met she was trying to do the good girl thing and not have sex with him on the first date. As the date progresses, they end up back at her place and are making out. She acknowledges to him that for some reason her condoms are in her car and because she has no intention of going out to get them, they will not be having any sex that night. So, things continue, and she soon recognizes what he’s packing and the temptation becomes too hard (no pun intended) to resist.I remarked that she evidently had a change a heart about going out to the car. She replied, “Please, I raw-dogged that shit.” {insert high five here}

And that is why Rita is awesome…not because she’ll have unprotected sex with a guy on a first date, but because she’s a brash, tatted woman who is unafraid to use the term “raw-dog” in conversation with a new acquaintance and then high five it!

Mark Schlereth Wants Me....

2011-03-16T10:07:00.009-04:00

...or he wants to beat me up! One thing is undeniable, on more than one occasion, I’ve been in the cafeteria on campus and have looked up to see him staring at me (dare I say, checking me out?). And not because he caught me ogling him....I’m talking unprovoked glances...that’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.

Ahh...one of the luxuries of working at ESPN. Aside from there being a significant number of good-looking guys on staff in general, there is the benefit of having hunky former professional athletes as on-air talent....hello Jesse Palmer?? Just plain dreamy!

Ronde Barber! Granted, Tiki has always been my favorite, but as I’ve said before: A man so nice, God made him twice!

There was a time we had Shawne Merriman on air...the year he was out for the season due to injury....and before that Tila Tequila bullshit.

And I can’t forget about Andrew Orsatti...a hot Aussie who works on our international networks.

And it’s nothing to just brush by any of them in the hallway or in the cafeteria. Truly the ESPN campus is a great place to be...too bad the whole work thing gets in the way!

CNTL-ALT-DEL

2011-02-04T17:08:00.001-05:00

OK...maybe that was a little dramatic. But it was apropos for the moment. It was a very heart-wrenching couple of days.

Four days...some time to think and re-evaluate. We decided that it was too good of a thing to end. The course of true love doesn’t always run smoothly, and it’s not not about avoiding these moments, but it’s all about how you deal with them when they arise. And for us, we’ve handled it extraordinarily well.

This is not to say that I’m not at all cautious for the time being. Once bitten, twice shy. But as Alicia Keys says, “I’d risk the fall, just to know how it feels to fly.”

After all is said and done, though, I didn’t lose the baby. Granted, the doctor will need to keep a watchful eye on the pregnancy, but it is all systems go! EXHALE.

Misery Season - Part II

2011-01-30T02:28:00.004-05:00

From my own personal experience, the beginning stages of a relationship are very similar to a pregnancy. Unfortunately, I tended to have the bad luck of not being able to carry a pregnancy beyond the first trimester. Destined to be childless and in possession of a barren womb.

It seemed that the fates would turn in my favor, however. Having met a great guy with whom everything clicked on all cylinders, I managed to navigate through the delicate early stages and successfully past the first trimester. OMG...can it be!?! All signs pointed in a favorable direction, and it looked like clear sailing ahead.

Even more poignant was the timing...late summer/early fall. As November approached, so did the dreaded ‘Misery Season’. For those not in the know, the ‘Misery Season’ is that period of time from late November until Valentine’s Day when it is the absolute most miserable time to be single. Heretofore, I had endured season after season...trying my best to choke down my bitterness and not have a constant scowl on my face. For once, though, there was no misery to be endured during this season. I was blissfully “pregnant” having managed through the first trimester. Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years all came and went....and I was lucky enough to have someone special to share each occasion. The ultimate of exhales!

Or so I thought. All good things come to an end. Better to have love and lost than to never have loved at all. It is what it is. No matter the cliche, they all make me want to vomit right now. How did I get here?? Out of the blue and unexpected.

Was it possible that I was too happy? I did try to keep it understated and not be too boastful. Perhaps it just wasn’t meant to be in the grand scheme of things? I did all that I could do. Or maybe it is just a matter of timing. Another time, another place, things could have been different.

And ironically, this all comes as the ‘Misery Season’ approaches its conclusion.

So, while I managed through the tricky first trimester, I didn’t figure for taking a tumble down a flight of stairs. Sadly, I lost the baby.

Sweet Dreams

2011-01-07T23:41:00.004-05:00

So...I'm not normally big on dream analysis, but last night and this morning I had some particularly weird dreams. First off...I had a dream that Tina Fey was a psycho killer and had tried to kill me. In true MOTW fashion I stumble upon her world of crazy. I try to knock her out with a wrench but I miss. I make a break for the door and she chases me...weird. Maybe it's because I don't care for 30 Rock.

Then...I had a dream that my boyfriend forwarded me a text message that some guys sent him. Evidently, they wanted us to join them for a foursome. What can I say...we are a pretty hot couple...LOL.

Finally...I dreamt that I woke up to find a stock of bills on my night table...20s and 100s thank you very much. Was I all of a sudden a rentboy for hire? If I were, I was a highly paid one! I definitely hang my hat on the fact that I'm good at what I do...but I'm not good enough to charge...or am I? In any case I was particularly disappointed to wake up from that one...I hate having money in my hands in my dreams only to awake empty-handed...boo!

Misery Season 2010/2011

2010-11-29T00:14:00.000-05:00

So...there’s this weird curl in the corner of my lips that I haven’t seen much lately...wait a minute is that a smile? Not a smirk nor a sarcastic grin...but an actual smile? Just when I was bearing down for yet another Misery Season, might it be possible that I have cause to not be so miserable this time around?

Dare I speak (type) the words lest I jinx myself. Only time will tell. In the mean time, I’m just gonna go with the flow and let things unfold on their own.

Patience

2010-10-09T16:19:00.000-04:00

We’re judged by the company we keep, and unfortunately Bitterness and Jealousy have been my partners in crime lately.

I beg the question...why? No one ever promised that it would be easy, but it is very frustrating when others don’t have to jump the same hurdles. After a month and a half, two people have managed to go official on Facebook. In that same time span, I managed a first and second date with the same guy...with only a tentative plan for a third date.

It is hard to repeat the patience mantra and reconcile how things take time when you’re slapped in the face with example after example of how that’s not necessarily the case.

Yes, it comes down to timing...being in the right place at the right time. But I’m so over hailing taxicabs that have their “off-duty” signs lit.

Scared of Lonely

2010-09-20T00:43:00.000-04:00

Seriously?!? I mean seriously?!?! Something has got to give! I ask why, but immediately concede why not. BUT, it’s growing more and more difficult not to be bothered and upset by life’s circumstances.

You meet people and hope for the best. I emphasize HOPE because I know that you shouldn’t have expectations. EXPECTATIONS can lead easily to disappointment while HOPE allows you to stay optimistic. So, even though my hopes don’t necessarily materialize into something significant, I remain hopeful and optimistic that maybe one day soon they will. I have to confess though, it is so hard not to call bullshit.

So, there’s one guy I met....we’ll call him Jarrett. Physically astounding...but also a great person. While I would easily discount my chances, I try to stay positive. Maybe there could be something. Perhaps something can be said for my personality and character? Well, Jarrett goes away for vacation and meets a guy during his trip. They hit it off. Said guy lives in another state....roughly 2000 miles away. But the heart wants what it wants, and it’s evidently worth the effort to make a go of it. Just add water.

Technically, this is not a rejection. There was no overture on my part to be declined on his. But I can’t say there wasn’t a little bit disappointment. The hardest part is the self-inflicted wounds....like asking him to give me the details for how it all transpired. Thank you sir, may I have another? A sucky situation for sure, but nothing I can’t get over.

Now, the real tough one takes a more convoluted form and actually pre-dates Jarrett. “Big Sexy” is 6’2” with killer blue eyes. An objection of my affection for some time, though I’ve resigned myself to not being his type. His attention is captivated by an exotic taste of different persuasion.

Enter the “different persuasion”. Admittedly, heretofore, his type never did much to peak my interest until the day I met him. Was stunned and beside myself at first sight. Attractive and congenial...score! Now, navigating this one is a little trickier and awkward. But nothing ventured is nothing gained, so I extend and invitation. Unfortunately, that invitation is graciously declined. If only he were a jerk in saying no...it would have made it so much easier to dislike him.

In the back of my mind, I figured that it would be only a matter of time before Big Sexy and the Different Persuasion crossed paths, but that didn’t seem likely...enter cyberspace. It’s one thing when a guy you like ends up with someone else. It is what it is, shit happens....but when two guys you like end up with each other?? That’s a kick in the crotch that keeps on kicking!!

There’s no denying it, I’m definitely bothered. I don’t know that I should be so bothered, but I am. Like I said, Big Sexy was never gonna happen. Different Persuasion was flattered but not interested. To his credit, Big Sexy asked me how I’d feel about his pursuing something with Different Persuasion. Of course I said I’d have no problem with it. Like I can justify any other response?? “I’m sorry, but I still have a major crush on you and him, so I’d rather you not date each other???” And all things considered, there was nothing to stop things from happening anyway, so may as well be gracious, right?

Hurts like a mother. Now, for one, this does bear a certain sting of rejection. Also, as I bear witness to these people coming together, I can’t help but acknowledge my own loneliness. Yeah, I said it. Back in my 20’s, I was alone....by choice, by myself, and I was ok with it. In my 30’s, I’m lonely. By myself, and I really don’t want to be. No, I’m not insinuating personal meaning and definition in being with someone else, but it would be awesome to share myself with another person.

Where am I going wrong? What have I done wrong or failed to do all together? I’ve played it passively....played it aggressively and put myself out here. But at the end of the day, it’s me and the cat.

Looking for Love in all the Wrong Places

2010-07-20T20:46:00.002-04:00

So, like many people, I dabble in online dating. I have a few profiles on various sites. I have met a few cool people here and there, but for the most part, this hasn't proven too successful....and here's why:

Hi Jax75,
I am a very insatiable submissive bottom from Prospect although I lived in Bristol at one time. I love sucking cock 5 to 6 hours or more, have no gag reflex so I definitely love to deep throat a nice cock. Really love having a guy do push-ups down my throat or just lay on top of my face grinding your cock deep into the back of my wet juicy mouth while your balls slap up against my lips. I also get into giving full hour plus hot oil body massages and more. Although I am a bottom it has been a long time since I have been fucked, yet i am not into quick fucks, 15 minutes to an hour is still very much a tease to me. Ideally I would love being fucked all night long have a guy fall asleep with his cock buried deep inside me and once waking up, start fucking me hard and deep all over again. I realize we all have limits but I never get tired of sucking cock and will suck yours for as long as you allow me to do so, no matter how long that might take. I also can be a good friend and enjoy having a guy come over for a good home cooked meal, followed by a great movie and yes that hot oil body massage and who knows what else might come up after that.

Seriously, what's wrong with "hey, you're cute. how would you like to grab a coffee some time?"

HELLO!!!

2010-05-14T10:41:00.001-04:00

There once was a man from Nantucket,
Who's dick was so long he could suck it.
He said with a grin, as he wiped off his chin,
If my ear was a cunt, I would fuck it!

Kiki is BACK!!!!

He Bangs, He Bangs!!!

2010-03-30T23:50:00.004-04:00

And now we are free to be together just as God intended!!

So, Ricky Martin has officially come out of the closet. Kudos to him! Anyone who has ever had to come out of the closet knows that it is one of the most difficult things to do.

It's not so much of a shocking revelation. Anyone who has paid attention knows that Ricky Martin came out a number of years ago in his own understated way. VH-1 Behind The Music around 2000 or 2001…look it up.

But the fact is, here and now he's ready to be unapologetically open with his truth and share who he is with the rest of us.

And he can share whatever he wants with me whenever he wants.

From his website:

A few months ago I decided to write my memoirs, a project I knew was going to bring me closer to an amazing turning point in my life. From the moment I wrote the first phrase I was sure the book was the tool that was going to help me free myself from things I was carrying within me for a long time. Things that were too heavy for me to keep inside. Writing this account of my life, I got very close to my truth. And this is something worth celebrating.

For many years, there has been only one place where I am in touch with my emotions fearlessly and that's the stage. Being on stage fills my soul in many ways, almost completely. It's my vice. The music, the lights and the roar of the audience are elements that make me feel capable of anything. This rush of adrenaline is incredibly addictive. I don't ever want to stop feeling these emotions. But it is serenity that brings me to where I'm at right now. An amazing emotional place of comprehension, reflection and enlightenment. At this moment I'm feeling the same freedom I usually feel only on stage, without a doubt, I need to share.

Many people told me: "Ricky it's not important", "it's not worth it", "all the years you've worked and everything you've built will collapse", "many people in the world are not ready to accept your truth, your reality, your nature". Because all this advice came from people who I love dearly, I decided to move on with my life not sharing with the world my entire truth. Allowing myself to be seduced by fear and insecurity became a self-fulfilling prophecy of sabotage. Today I take full responsibility for my decisions and my actions.

If someone asked me today, "Ricky, what are you afraid of?" I would answer "the blood that runs through the streets of countries at war...child slavery, terrorism...the cynicism of some people in positions of power, the misinterpretation of faith." But fear of my truth? Not at all! On the contrary, It fills me with strength and courage. This is just what I need especially now that I am the father of two beautiful boys that are so full of light and who with their outlook teach me new things every day. To keep living as I did up until today would be to indirectly diminish the glow that my kids where born with. Enough is enough. This has to change. This was not supposed to happen 5 or 10 years ago, it is supposed to happen now. Today is my day, this is my time, and this is my moment.

These years in silence and reflection made me stronger and reminded me that acceptance has to come from within and that this kind of truth gives me the power to conquer emotions I didn't even know existed.

What will happen from now on? It doesn't matter. I can only focus on what's happening to me in this moment. The word "happiness" takes on a new meaning for me as of today. It has been a very intense process. Every word that I write in this letter is born out of love, acceptance, detachment and real contentment. Writing this is a solid step towards my inner peace and vital part of my evolution.

I am proud to say that I am a fortunate homosexual man. I am very blessed to be who I am.

Bitch, I Will Step On Yo' Neck!!

2010-03-27T13:31:00.002-04:00

In all my 34 years on this planet I have never really wanted to fight anyone. Now, I'm not talking about the general contempt I feel for some people that compels me to exclaim that he/she should be punched in the neck or slapped until they stumble. I mean literally want to go to blows with someone…that is, I never felt that until now.

So, there's this bitchy queen Brian whose been a long-time fixture among the Hartford gays. Being the small community that it is, invariably our paths cross time and again. On a number of occasions we've been introduced. We go through the motions of greeting each other, and that has been the extent of it.

I have noticed, however, that he has often accompanied this handshake with a dirty look, as though someone came into the room and took a shit on the carpet. I let it go, electing to take the high road. I may be a bitch, but I'm not an asshole.

Last night, I stop by TK to meet up with a friend. We kept missing up other during the early evening happy hour circuit, so I stopped by for a quick hello before I headed toward home. Turns out that he was hanging out with Brian. I thought nothing of it…don't start none, won't be none. Not knowing whether Brian and I were acquainted with one another, he "introduced" us. I shake his hand. THE CUNTY BOY BITCH DID IT AGAIN!!

Being the bigger person sucks ass. I let it pass…even though, this time I thought he made a comment also. I couldn't be certain about the comment, but there was no mistaking the dirty look. OOOOHH!!!!

This was strike two. You know what happens when you get the third strike. Our paths will cross again. I'm sure at some point, we will be introduced to each other. But, if this d-bag comes out his face again, there will be no more Mr. Nice Gay on my end. I'm not going to doing anything drastic, but words will be spoken.

And then if I have to choke a bitch, so be it!

F*cked Up Friday

2010-03-21T00:20:00.002-04:00

Observations from the club....

1. Yeah, I'm getting too old for this sh*t. Not because I can't hang but because I'm just over all these effin kids.

2. You can totally judge the quality of a place by the bathrooms. Only low class people would trash a bathroom. Seriously, what fun comes from ripping the toilet paper from the wall and clogging the toilet?

3. At one point, I felt a hand on my ass and thought I was being pick-pocketed. Then I realized I was being felt up. I saw who the hand was attached to.....would rather be pick-pocketed. So, you grab a person's ass, but you can't say hello?

4. I felt like a dork for wanting to stay home to play with my new computer rather than go out to the club with the guys. On second thought....it is a Macbook Pro. After all is said and done, I think that would have been a more fun option.

5. I'm not gonna be one of the jaded gays who speaks ill of the scene. I've had many a fun night. But all good things must come to an end. I had my turn. Now it's time to move on to a different venue. The tell-tale sign? There's this "gay baby" who frequents my local Starbucks. I often see him there with the other high schoolers. Well, this kid was there tonight. Aside from Starbucks, I don't know that I want to occupy the same social circle as this kid.

6. This is not to say that I didn't have a fun time hanging out with the boys. It's always fun hanging out with friends. If anything, the consensus opinion was that if we decide to make a night of it in New Haven again, we will go to York St Cafe instead. It goes without that saying that York skews a bit older.

Wisdom From Madonna

2010-03-09T22:18:00.005-05:00

Mine is a constant struggle…on the one hand, I’ve been a fixture at ESPN for so long. I’ve developed an excellent reputation for performance, and I have to admit, I’m great at what I do. I’ve grown and learned a lot. Despite how frustrated I may be, is it worth it to chuck it all and start all over?

On the other hand, how long is too long? Even the best TV shows call it quits, with the cast of characters all spinning off into new adventures. A lot of times, I can’t help but feel like the old man on the island, reminiscing about how things used to be. Perhaps I have reached the end of my story arc?

So, I’m driving along one day and listening to a CD in the car. Madonna’s “Jump” comes on. This song is undoubtedly one of my favorite songs off of the “Confessions on the Dance Floor” album. So, needless to say, I’ve heard this song a number of times, and have often sung along to it. You’d think there wasn’t a lyric or turn of phrase that I found unfamiliar.

But, for some reason, today, it resonated much more deeply than any other time I’ve listened to it…right off the opening lyric:

There’s only so much you can learn in one place.
The longer I wait, the more time that I waste.

Wow…another Oprah “a-ha” moment!! The resolution of my bigger picture just got a little clearer. Who would have thought that such wisdom would be gleaned from a Madonna song? There’s a reason the woman is an icon!

Change

2010-03-09T22:16:00.001-05:00

My iPod is always playing while I’m working. Music in the background helps to keep my spirits positive. Most of the time, however, I’m not paying the closest of attention to it…usually, there’s a lot going on.

So, this one afternoon, I’m really irritated by some recent changes at work and am again trying to figure out if it’s all worth it. I am often one of the biggest champions of change. Ironically, though, I actually hate change. I’m a creature of habit, and if it ain’t broken, why fix it?

The current manager of my department is big on taking people out of their comfort zones…AAAAHHHH!! So, when I learn that he’s going to shuffle a few assignments around, I was not very happy. And I definitely let it be known that I was none too pleased by this, but since I’m not in charge, I have to tow the line.

So, I’m stewing over the situation at my desk…just trying to get my tasks done so that I can get the hell out of there for the day. Maybe it was coincidence, perhaps it wasn’t. Just happens though, that for one brief moment the noise in my head goes quiet, and I hear my iPod plain as day. A Sheryl Crow song is playing, “A Change Will Do You Good.” Like I said, maybe it was a coincidence, maybe it wasn’t…things do happen for a reason.

No…I didn’t all of sudden have an epiphany and embrace change like it was a long-lost relative. But I did take a deep breath and try to see a bigger picture. And while the images are still a little bit fuzzy, one thing does ring as clear as a bell. Perhaps a change will do me good.

Almost, But Not Quite

2010-03-09T22:02:00.000-05:00

Evidently, I’m great, but still not good enough. Let’s see, twice I’ve interviewed for a position in Programming. Twice, I was told that I’d be a great fit within the group. Twice, I was told they decided to go in a different direction.

I’ve had a number of very good first (or second) dates…the social equivalent to the job interview. On a number of occasions, I’ve been in the presence of men who considered me “husband material”. Smart, funny, and attractive…why in the world am I still single? So, why then did none of those dalliances materialize into anything more than a casual date?

As painful as it may be, I could wrap my head around the prospect that I suck as a person. I’m not smart enough. I lack certain credentials. At least then I will have a list of things to work on and develop in hopes of hitting the mark the next time around.

BUT, how does one grow when there is nothing wrong? I mean, I’m sure there is, but if only positive feedback is provided, where do you find the areas in need of improvement?

So, I’m discussing this with a friend. In consolation, he tells me how impressed he is that I manage to take a lot of it in stride and how frustrating he imagines this all to be. No shit…I don’t exactly have a choice, do I?

Clearly, this is where God finds humor in the irony of this conversation, as this friend is the last guy for whom I fell head over heels, only to have those feelings go un-reciprocated. Even more, at one point during our early-goings, he told me that he considered me date-able!! Having his husband call during this conversation must have been for the extra guffaw!

Monday's Hottie

2009-12-07T17:26:00.004-05:00

I heart Cristiano Ronaldo...he's the only reason I'm a fan of Real Madrid. Apparently, he was fined for taking his shirt off after scoring a goal in yesterday's match. Personally, I think the fine should be for playing with his shirt ON!

I'll Cut a Bitch

2009-12-07T01:14:00.003-05:00

I think I’m becoming an angry black man. I don’t know exactly when it happened, but I’ve been noticing it more and more lately.

If I’m thinking it I’m often saying it…that’s not a new thing. Oftentimes, it would manifest itself in some snarky or bitchy comment…usually for laughs and my own amusement. But more and more, I’m recognizing that it’s not only for laughs. I’m so easily irritated these days, and rolling my eyes has become an almost uncontrollable reflex. Sometimes I’m just plain mean.

It has become a funny joke amongst me and a few friends about how it seems I often want to slap or cut a bitch. When I get pissed I lash out. Anyway, I guess I really started to take notice of this about a month ago. I was doing a photo shoot, and when the photographer and I would look at some of the shots, we pointed out that I had an angry-looking expression on my face in some of the pictures. Surprisingly, I had no idea I was making those faces. One of the pictures that made the final cut I dubbed as the “WTF shot”. I actually liked the picture for that very reason.

But why am I angry? Life is good, but not what I’d like it to be. Work is both frustrating and unfulfilling. The love life is non-existent. And at the end of the day, I have only myself to blame. So, basically I’m angry at myself. But since I can’t really take it out on myself, I get mad at the rest of the world. Can you say anger management?

Lesbians

2009-12-04T19:32:00.002-05:00

Apparently gay men aspire to become lesbians. The circuit is fun. You go out to the bars, socialize with the boys, and have a grand ole time. But then one day you find yourself with a boyfriend.

Soon after, the nights out with the boys becomes nights in with THE boy. Your friends are fine with it at first, but pretty soon the constant cancellations on plans to go out take their toll. The “awws” that once followed the announcement that you and the boyfriend are foregoing a Friday night out on the town are soon replaced with a rolling of the eyes and the utterance of “lesbians.”

You see, in the gay community, the girls have a different set of rules of engagement. After a good first date, the girls bring a moving truck to the second date. They become an inseparable “we” who cloister themselves away from the friends with whom the used to spend inordinate amounts of time, only to re-emerge for the occasional party or night out….or once the relationship runs its course.

A similar trend can be noted among the guys. The main objective to going out is to land a man…anyone who claims otherwise is lying. If a guy is fortunate enough to achieve that objective and it develops into something significant there is no longer a need to go to market. What’s the point? I have a man. A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.

So, rather than go out, we stay in. We hang out at home watching movies, cooking together, and/or spend time with our other coupled “lesbian” friends.

I have been known to make that comment on multiple occasions. The truth is, however, I kid because I envy. I’m unattached but would prefer not to be. And if by chance I found a guy who was boyfriend material, I would willfully spend a Friday or Saturday night at home or doing the dinner/movie thing as opposed to a late night out at the bars. Make no mistake…I wouldn’t entirely retire the “sexy jeans” and Birkenstocks are still sinful, but I wouldn’t have any qualms answering to “Ellen”. Or would I rather be Portia??

I'm Back!!!

2009-11-14T10:27:00.003-05:00

Hello babies...did you miss me? Regretfully, I have been terribly neglectful of Kiki. Personally, I blame Facebook, but that all changes now. It had been an interesting summer, and OK fall, and God only knows what the winter will bring. Stay tuned!

In the meantime, enjoy one of my newest crushes...British rugby player, Ben Cohen.

XOXO

Just Add Water

2009-07-29T23:58:00.004-04:00

So, I was socializing with the gays at a pool party about a month or so ago. It was definitely a fun crowd with a few new faces. There was one in particular who caught my eye. At first, I thought he was straight. But as luck would have it, he was indeed a ‘mo.

Unfortunately, before I got the opportunity to really chat him up, someone else had totally swooped in. No worries…I did get a chance to chat him up later during the party; we exchanged information, and even talked about meeting for drinks at some point in the future. SCORE! I figured even though the early bird what swooped in, everything is still fair game. Besides, only lesbians rent the U-Haul and head for the altar shortly after meeting one another….or at least that’s what I thought.

Turns out the early bird did indeed get the worm. I did hang out with the cutie for drinks, but the early bird went on dates, has free reign over the cutie’s apartment, an in with the mother, and a weekend away.

Hmm…just add water, and we have an instant relationship. How does it come so easily for everyone else? I have a hard enough time just getting to the second date, and it seems like everyone else can easily subscribe to the notion of love at first sight without hesitation.

For argument sake though, would I want to expedite things so quickly? I’m thinking it’s more of an issue of mutual feelings. I have had the tendency to fall head over heels for people in the past. The problem was that they didn’t feel the same way about me. So, if I met someone and there was a mutual spark of interest, is it likely that I would be rushing to update my Facebook status to reflect this newly minted love connection?

Who’s to say that it is true that only fools rush in? At the same time, the reality regarding the cultivating and maintaining of a relationship dictates that logic and prudence shouldn’t be abandoned. As we get older, I think we grow tired of playing the game. Deep down, we all want to find that special person who makes us smile. So, can you help a guy for quickly morphing into that girl picking out China patterns shortly after locking eyes with a cutie at a party?

Unpretty

2009-06-20T19:20:00.004-04:00

I'm a hoot and a half. No doubt about it. But even the most confident people have moments when they question their worth. Maybe it's in the morning after you first wake up. Perhaps it is when you're in the company of the "young and beautiful" ones. Or maybe it's just after you finish devouring a whole pizza, and you flip the channel to find Taye Diggs without a shirt.

But then there are those occasions when you're navigating the dating waters that you really can't help but wonder if there is disconnect between what you see and what the rest of the world sees.

Who doesn't love an ego stroke every now and then? Who wouldn't want someone to think they're attractive? Cute. Hot, even.

It goes without saying that you're not going to be everyone's cup of tea. I have heard on a number of occasions, "Sorry, black guys don't do it for my." Most of the time you can just accept it and move on...to each, his own. However, it does sting a little after a while.

You can't begrudge anyone his preference. I certainly stand by mine. But does there come a point when we let such biases prevent us from meeting good people? At the same time, should we force ourselves to accept things that we don't want?

I'm reminded of this one experience with online dating. There was a guy who came up as a match, so I corresponded with him. He had very pretty eyes, a well-known weakness of mine, and a beefy football player build. At the same time, he was NOT college educated. He lacked professional stability, and he lived in western MA. And the topper, he was dyslexic....all debits.

I went back and forth for a bit, but ultimately decided to take a chance and let go of my strict criteria. So, I sent him a couple of my pictures. The next day I got a response..."Sorry dude, not into black guys."

Passed over by a chubby, uneducated dyslexic. Not so much the ego stroke one would hope for...more like a kick to the balls...the kind that grazes and has a slight delay to when the pain sets in.

Building Bridges

2009-06-20T13:10:00.001-04:00

So, several months ago, I met this German dance instructor named Olaf. Cute and flirty…and I love his accent.

Then, I meet this cute Middle Eastern boy named Jean (pronounced Zhahn) We met online due to a mutual interest in tennis and have been trying to meet up to hit around. Unfortunately the weather hasn’t been too cooperative.

Move ahead to this past Tuesday…after arriving at Tisane for the night out with the boys, I run into the German guy. He’s cute and flirty as usual. We are standing in this insane line at the bar…taking longer than usual to get drink from some reason. Who should be standing in front of me but the Middle Eastern boy. Until last Tuesday, we had only chatted via e-mail and IM, so it was good to finally make an actual connection.

To be polite, I introduced the two guys to each other, and we all chat briefly, and then before I know it, I’m a third wheel as both Olaf and Jean spin-off into their own conversation…maybe it was a bond over being from other countries…whatever. In any case, it was quite enjoyable to watch them exchange phone numbers…WTF?!

I so love being the bridge that brings people together. It gives me this warm sensation inside…I guessing this is what cramps feel like.

Fucked Up!

2009-06-15T03:59:00.000-04:00

What is wrong with us? Why are we drawn to the things that we can’t have, and dismissive of those that are easily within our reach?

Wonderboy has a thing for Jack…however; Jack has made it clear that he is not interested in Wonderboy. Of course, that all changes the minute someone else shows an interest in Wonderboy. Meanwhile, my new BFF has a huge thing for Wonderboy...and needless to say, Wonderboy has been less than responsive.

I’m just as guilty. For the past two months, I’ve allowed myself to go crazy over Nurse Boy, whom I had to force into admitting that he just wasn’t into me. All the while, I’m getting midday text messages from a guy whose attentiveness I could care less about.

He’s too nice. He’s too obedient. He’s too available. When did these become relationship liabilities? Why do we crave drama and dysfunction? I have very few words except that we’re fucked up!

Gay BFF

2009-06-14T03:56:00.001-04:00

So, after several years, my male best friend disappeared. We just drifted apart I suppose…it happens to even the best of friends. What was particularly disappointing was that he was truly my only male friend.

Aside from him, all of my closest friends are female. I’ve always gotten along best with females…maybe it’s the gay thing. But, for as much as I love them, sometimes you just need to have another guy to talk to.

Thus, the casting call was put out…new male BFF wanted. The one main caveat was that he had to be gay. The previous one blipped on quite a few gaydars, but ultimately, he was a raging hetero. This next time around, I wanted someone I could hang out with, talk about guys with, and even hit up the bars with. HOWEVER, he couldn’t be someone to whom I was attracted or was attracted to me. As a relative outsider, it appears that genuine friendships are hard to achieve among gay men. Too often, I think we base the worthiness of another guy’s friendship on whether or not we’d want to date him (or have sex with him). And in the end, we establish friendships with the true intent of landing the guy. But once we fall short of that end (or in some cases, achieve it) the true friendship falls by the wayside…though in some instances, true friendship is established.

OK…I’m digressing. A handful of guys were brought in to read for the part. For various reasons, nothing clicked. I do believe that genuine friendships can not be contrived, but I was lacking the patience to just let time sort things out. And just when I thought the role would go uncast, enter Michael. A friend of a friend, I certainly did not foresee a significant friendship in the offing. It’s funny how things work out. Perhaps it was the timing of my emotional rollercoaster with Aaron and Michael’s personal drama with his own unrequited object of his affection. Or maybe it was a common affinity for dance music.

Regardless of how it all came to be, a pal and confidante had been found. There was no further need to continue with auditions. The role had finally been cast.

He's Not Into Me

2009-06-13T21:01:00.004-04:00

So, he’s just not into me. Not the first and he won’t be the last. But there was something different in how this long-perceived truth came to be.

I mentioned meeting him some months ago…a new friend with dating potential, but I had no idea what was going to come of it. Well, fast forward about a month and it’s determined that the interest was not mutual…at least so I thought, because there was a flirty vibe that I know was not imagined. I even had my new best friend play wingman for a night out at the bar, and he, too, saw something there. Tell tale sign #137 should have been when he sent an email to my new BFF asking him out for drinks some time…it would be explained that the email in question was sent by a 3rd party, but nonetheless…shitty and shady.

Any who…another month or so goes by, and I’m allowing myself to get further sucked in…self-destructive and frustrating. So, I finally decided that I needed to put all of my cards on the table, and find out once and for all what’s the deal.

So, in a nutshell, I engage a conversation in which I force him to tell me that he’s just not into me in “that way.” Just no sparks or whatever. Again, not the first time (nor the last) I’m sure, but in a weird way it was a good thing. I was never able to solicit frank honesty from any other guy before. I was forced to take a hint and read between the lines. Not helpful, given that the mind often perceives what it wants to see and you end up wasting a lot of time and mental energy.

Not this time. It’s one thing to pine away for someone who does not make it clear to you how he feels, shame on him. However, to fall deeper into someone who tells you that he is not interested, shame on me. Yes, it is disappointing and unfortunate, but what can you do, right?

As I had explained to him, we sort of went down this road before, but I felt that I was receiving mixed messages and as such, I wasn’t able to be a genuine friend. In my mind, I was continuing to think about the possibility of being more than friends.

Also, now I am able to fully move forward with a peace of mind I didn’t have previously. And perhaps we can actually be friends…at least on Facebook. In any case, the confusion and frustration is no more!!

Furthermore...the next time I fall hard for a guy, he's gotta be super hot AND plausibly unattainable to me.

When I Grow Up!

2009-06-10T23:45:00.001-04:00

Or at least what I want to do!

Newest Sports Crush!!!

2009-05-19T12:25:00.004-04:00

Ladies and Gentlemen....Mark Sanchez of the NY Jets!

Try Me Bitch!!

2009-05-18T13:12:00.002-04:00

I guess you can take the boy out of Orange, but you can’t take the Orange out of the boy….why did I almost get into a fight at the bar on Sunday night?

It was your typical Sunday night out with the boys…pre-drinks at Koji, followed by dancing at On The Rocks, which would be followed by post-drinks at Koji.

So, I’m dancing and minding my own business when this douchey-looking queen comes up to me. She’s the host of the evening, and I’m thinking she’s just working the room, so I barely pay attention to what she’s saying to me. But, then I hear something about passing out flyers, and that I shouldn’t come back next week. [BTW, when I say she/her, I am referring to a guy]

I’m being accused of passing out flyers, and she’s telling me that she’s being the bigger person tonight, but that I shouldn’t come back next week. I’m like, what the hell are you talking about? I’m not passing any flyers, and I’m quickly becoming agitated. It takes very little for me to get worked up over the accusation, and she then threatens to have me kicked out on the spot.

I tell her to go ahead and try, but I’m not fucking passing out any flyers and I challenge her to point to a time when I was passing out flyers that night. Hands are waving, necks are rolling…I’m spitting out f-bombs like nobody’s business. Dane is holding me back; Neil is trying to smooth out the situation…WTF!?!?

We’re preparing to leave when the queen comes back…I’m like what now?? This time, however, she comes offering an apology…it appears that they’ve made a mistake. She’s so sorry about the situation, and offers to buy me a shot. I accept the apology, but I don’t want a shot. Admittedly, I’m still quite pissed off right now. Then, the promoter comes over and offers his apology. He was given some bad information and went with it….he too offered drinks and shots. I again declined, but far be it from me to allow Dane and Neil to take advantage of the hook-up. We have another round and a few shots. Then the queen returns, offering another apology, and tells me that I will have a permanent place on the guest list and won’t have to pay cover charge again.

It sucks at how things got started, but I must say that they did very well to admit their mistake and try to make up for it. I simmered down and all was right with the world again.

I laugh because I have to be one the most unassuming people in the club when I go out…don’t start none, won’t be none. So, to be accused of something like passing out flyers is so absurd. I am a little disappointed in myself though for how easily my buttons can be pushed. I was all ready to let stuff jump off. I suppose it is good to know that I will defend myself when the need arises…and that I have friends who have my back. But at the end of the day, I’m a runner, not a fighter…LOL

Return from Hiatus

2009-05-18T13:11:00.000-04:00

WOW...where does the time go?? Took a brief hiatus, but I have returned.

Being Mr. Right

2009-03-11T02:52:00.001-04:00

So much time is spent searching for Mr. Right that very few of us consider being Mr. Right.

Recently, I was lucky enough to meet a very cute, sweet, and nice guy. As I try to keep my wits about myself and avoid becoming too excited by the idea of him, I can’t help but think about what he has to offer and what a potential relationship might entail.

As I was chatting with a friend about my giddiness over this new guy, I couldn’t help but be curious about our relationship potential. I went so far as to ask him about the compatibility between a Virgo and Pisces. I was pleased to learn that in theory the two signs are very compatible. Apparently, Virgos get along well with all of the water signs, but I digress.

My friend offered that it seems like the best way meet Mr. Right is to create a life where it would be highly inconvenient to have a boyfriend, and then he shall appear. To that, I replied that while it’s not worlds apart, we don’t exactly live next door to one another…not to mention our respective work schedules are necessarily conducive to a convenient courtship.

That’s when my friend helped me to arrive at one of the biggest A-Ha moments I’ve had…what if I’m the Mr. Right that is set for him?

You see, I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about how a guy fits what I’m looking for…what appeals to me physically, intellectually, and emotionally. Is he my type? Does he embody what I am looking for?

However, it never truly dawned on me to consider if I met his needs and expectations. Am I his type? Do I match the images in his fantasies?

Hmm…that’s definitely food for thought. So, while I fight the urge to devolve into that girl whom I hate…hoping that he likes me and driving myself crazy wondering why he hasn’t called yet…I am thinking about what I have to offer him as Mr. Right. It’s not just about whether he is the man I’ve been hoping to meet, but am I the man who might possibly complete him?

With only one coffee date under our belts and a bunch of phone calls and text messages, it is way too early to truly ponder what might be. However, I would be remiss to say that I wasn’t hoping for the best. But, this time around, I am not only hoping that he might be my one and only, but also that I am his.

My Funny Valentine

2009-02-14T13:53:00.007-05:00

Sweet comic valentine. In my life, I have been fortunate to have at least one valentine, and it was great.

His name was Jeff, and he lived in Boston. I had gone up to Boston to spend a weekend with him. Coincidentally, it was Valentine’s Day weekend.

We spent the day walking around the city. That night, he cooked a fantastic dinner (I baked the brownies for dessert), and we cuddled on the couch watching movies. A day heretofore dreaded was now not so miserable.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t too much mileage in that relationship come the end of the winter, but the memory of that Valentine’s Day still makes me smile with my heart.

Just Not Into Me

2009-02-07T22:30:00.001-05:00

Profound. A brain candy book and chick flick movie (though I hate that term), yet it strikes a chord that shines a bright light on the inner-workings of interpersonal relationships.

Gay/straight, man/woman, it doesn’t matter. As children, we are often sent the message that if people treat you like shit it’s because they like you. So we spend an inordinate amount of time excusing people for less than congenial and courteous behavior because we allow ourselves to believe that deep down, they truly do like us. Bullshit!! My mind drifts to thoughts of the woman who wears a black eye, courtesy of her husband. But she concedes that is her fault and often laments the love that he professed after delivering the damaging blow.

Conventional wisdom dictates that the truth hurts. So, along those lines, it is much more desirable to make excuses for how people treat (or mistreat) us than it is to admit the painful truth…he just doesn’t like me. Of course this makes sense. Unless you happen to be a true glutton for punishment, who willingly want to subject himself to this pain?

In hindsight, however, having made such excuses in the past, I can’t recall feeling any less hurt. Perhaps because deep down I knew the real deal despite the bag of bullshit I was selling.

These events of the recent past have helped me to realize that it is not healthy to pine for what you can not attain when it comes to relationships. This ties into one of the numerous gems I’ve gleaned from Oprah over the years: People reveal their true selves to us. It is our willingness or reluctance to recognize this that becomes the difference-maker.

So, he’s just not into me. I don’t “get” it…I accept it.

And God Laughs

2009-01-28T23:26:00.008-05:00

So, it’s Saturday night, and I’m having a fun night at Polo…a gay bar to the uninitiated. I spent much of the night trying to work up the nerve to chat up a cute Clark Kent-looking guy. Unfortunately, I had a hard time tracking him down, as well as my nerve.

Anyway, I manage to have an enjoyable night nonetheless. The night winds down, last-call comes, and they’re beginning to coax people out of the bar area. Suddenly, I feel someone pulling on my arm and dragging me toward the dance floor. It’s some girl I’ve never met before. “Do I know you,” I ask her. “Do we need to know each other in order to dance?” she replies. I concede and decide to dance with her.

This is where things get weird. Girlfriend is grinding on me like I’m a coffee bean. I’m not sure what she was trying to do, but she was having no effect on me whatsoever…quite the opposite actually. I grabbed her hips to steady her and keep her appropriate. Soon enough, thankfully, the music stops and the lights come on.

Still weirder…seeing as I don’t normally grind on anyone without at least knowing their name, I ask her who she is. Her name is Shelly. She takes this time to tell me she thinks I’m cute. You’re never too drunk to accept an ego stroke. Apparently, you’re never too drunk to just give up your phone number either because after a brief conversation, Shelly is putting her phone number into my cell phone. I think nothing of it because I truly doubt that I’d ever hear from her. She asks, “Am I gonna get you in trouble if we walk out together?” I tell her that I’m actually with a friend and won’t be walking out just the moment. She waves goodbye, and I laugh to myself that all night I’m seeking Clark Kent, but it’s Lois Lane who asks for my phone number…ha ha ha.

Imagine my surprise Sunday morning when I receive a text message from Shelly: “Hello good morning would you like to do breakfast this morning or dinner tonight”

WTF!?!? Is she serious? At first, I didn’t even know how to respond, outside of hell-to-the-no, of course. Was she completely out of her gourd? Blind? Maybe on a bet or a dare?

I replied that I had to work late, and while not trying to be presumptive, offered a reminder that I’m gay.

Her reply: “Hey it doesn’t hurt to have friends does it? That shit don’t bother me at all.”

Only I could go to a gay bar and get hit on by a girl. On the one hand, it’s a little flattering…an ego stroke is an ego stroke is an ego stroke. On the other hand…seriously?!?!

Male Bonding

2009-01-18T01:02:00.003-05:00

I've said it before, American professional athletes having nothing on their European counterparts when it comes to being comfortable with their sexualities and the boundaries between male-male interpersonal relationships...but this even caused my jaw to drop...

You have to wonder that maybe the relationship between Shaq and Kobe wouldn't have gotten so bitter and hostile had they shared a no-homo, open-mouthed kiss after they won the NBA Championship.

Out with the Old...In with the New

2009-01-11T02:16:00.003-05:00

Well, seeing as I was neither hung over nor puking on the morning of January 1st, the start of 2009 was a marked improvement over the start of 2008. Let’s hope that trend continues.

2008 was not a good year…I spent much of the year lamenting heartbreak, hating my job, reconciling the disappointment of friendships that had unexpectedly run their course.

Once the holiday season arrived, I just was not in a mood to be bothered. That coupled with a shitty economy, made Christmas and New Year’s very low-key affairs. And you know what; I enjoyed it much more that way.

I spent way less money than I have in the past. I volunteered at St. Philip’s House, a residence for people living with HIV and AIDS. I revived my annual holiday party and spent a very fun evening with close friends. For an added twist, I had all of my invited guests bring an unwrapped toy to be donated to charity. My original intention was to donate the toys to the Salvation Army, but by a strange happenstance, I received an email from a fellow ESPN employee making a last-minute plea for toy donations to re-coup from a fundraiser for a local chapter of the National MS Society that was cancelled due to a snowstorm. It was a strange coincidence because I had just boxed and loaded the toys in my car that morning. More than that, I never should have received the email in the first place, as it was intended for the other Keith Jackson. It had been a while since I felt good from performing a good deed…hell, when was my last good deed? That goes on my list of goals for 2009.

I think disengaging from the typical holiday rush allowed me to reconnect with myself. I didn’t lose myself in the hustle and bustle, and instead, I was able to fully reconcile with all that 2008 wasn’t and find the optimism to look forward to 2009.

So, what next? I am hopeful for what the New Year has to offer, both personally and professionally. At the heart of it all, I look to re-establish the control that seemed to elude me in 2008.

Shane Fierce

2008-11-25T04:52:00.001-05:00

I came across this on YouTube..wow!

Remission

2008-11-23T15:13:00.001-05:00

I’m looking at his picture, and I’m smiling to myself. This is a good feeling…one that I feared wouldn’t return.

As 2008 draws to a close, I am returning to a good place in my personal life. It has been a wrenching several months, but I have rounded a corner, and it only makes me optimistic for what 2009 has to offer.

While a new friend might be the most emblematic reason for this improved disposition, the bigger story is that I’m open to the idea and prospect of this new person. As I reflect, it’s not so much that there was no one as much as I was unwilling to open myself to the possibility of someone else.

Getting over someone isn’t easy, and contrary to my original belief, getting under someone isn’t the fastest way of achieving the former. Turns out, Rome was built in 7 months.

Now, I have no misgivings for what my new friend represents. I’m merely open to the possibilities. But, I after months of gray, I can see color again.

Coach, I’m suited up and ready to get back into the game.

Shattered

2008-11-21T12:55:00.000-05:00

OK…how is it possible for much to happen and NOT happen all at the same time. It has been over a month, and while I feel that I have been all over the place, at the same time, I feel as though I’ve been standing still.

Off the top…history has been made. I never thought that I would live to see this day, but a Black man has been elected as President of the United States! I did my part and filled in my holes, but I was very concerned that there would be some 11th hour shenanigans that might derail what had seemed inevitable for quite some time. Fortunately, that did not happen, and I went to bed that night with a very gratifying, yet surreal feeling.

When you grow up Black in America, there is often a feeling of limitation placed upon you. You’re encouraged to strive to be whatever you want, but at the same time there seems to be a fine print disclaiming your wholesale eligibility. Fortunately, I never felt the full weight of this albatross around my neck, but I can’t say that I haven’t had to check over my shoulder from time to time in fear of this particular bogeyman.

All of that changed on Nov. 4th. On Nov. 4th, not only did the American citizenry finally get it right, but also the glass ceiling was shattered. “Can’t” was removed from the vocabulary of Black people…no longer is any dream too big. No longer do you have to settle for just enough. “The Man” has been pushed aside.

No, racism and discrimination have not been miraculously eradicated.
No, life didn’t all of sudden become easier.

BUT, in the grand scheme of things, this mysterious, faceless, nameless other that handcuffed you into believing yourself unworthy has been moved out of your way. There are no more excuses. The bar has been raised, and with it comes the opportunity to prove what we have known all along…YES WE CAN!

Jackass in Jacksonville

2008-10-04T20:37:00.000-04:00

I love to travel. For the past several years, I’ve managed to take at least two trips during the year to escape the doldrums of CT…ahh, the benefit of having friends scattered around the country.

It seems that there is always some sort of drama following me whenever I head to Jacksonville. Two years ago, I arrived at the airport less than an hour before my scheduled take-off. Add to that the 45 minute wait through security, I settle into my seat only 5 minutes before the plane pulled away from the gate…hell, the actually had closed the door at the gate. Anyway, I make my connections, but luggage did not…my suitcase containing my favorite jeans and my favorite shoes.

I very much wanted to avoid any such issue. I arrived with more than enough time to spare before take-off. The most significant endeavor, though, was that I avoided packing like a diva. I was able to limit myself to a small suitcase that I could carry on. Security was a breeze…until they flagged my suitcase. Apparently, I was so concerned about making sure that my bottle of Tom Ford cologne didn’t exceed the liquid restriction, I forgot that toothpaste and any other cream is governed by this restriction. The TSA agent let me keep my small tube of Colgate; however, my large tube of facial cleanser had to be confiscated…my large, barely-used, $7 tube of facial cleanser.

Now, my carry-on strategy also served the purpose of protecting me in the event of any delay that crunched my already short lay-over in Atlanta. And it appeared that my gamble would pay off when take-off out of Hartford was delayed by a half hour. Thankfully, I would be arriving and leaving from adjacent gates in Atlanta. Ha ha…jokes on me. Upon arriving in Atlanta, I learn that my flight to Jacksonville will be departing from a gate that is 2 terminals away.,.in 15 minutes!!

So, I’m breaking ass across the Atlanta airport to make my flight. As I get to my gate, the agent is beginning to close the door to the jet way. I start waving to get her attention. She shouts, “Are you Jackson?” My affirmative response prompts her to then prod me on, “Alright Jackson, move it, move it.”

I’m like, “It’s not my fault. The flight was late, and you guys moved the gate to west bumblefuck.”

I board the plane and soon learn there is no more available overhead storage. No worries checking my bag now, though. It will make it to Jacksonville at the same time that I do.

I find my seat. I settle down, wipe the sweat from my head, and prepare to relax the rest of the way to Jacksonville. In the long-run, the drama was rather uneventful…at least seemingly so until late Wednesday night when I go to charge my iPod.

Upon settling into my seat, I had tucked my iPod and bottle of iced tea into the seat pocket in front of me. This way, from the cramped position of my window seat, I would more easily retrieve it when I was allowed to use electronic devices. Not a bad plan, except I was so engrossed in my book when they granted permission, I never used my iPod. Instead, at the end of my flight, I quickly grabbed my things and left the plane, leaving behind my iPod…UGH!!!

Just when I thought I had averted any drama with my flight to Jacksonville. The streak continues.

And Exhale...

2008-10-01T11:36:00.001-04:00

As much as I love her, Mariah Carey should NOT be listened to when you’re nursing a broken heart. As I’m driving to the airport, I’m listening to a compilation of my favorite Mariah songs. Clearly, this list was composed when I was in brighter spirits and not overly mindful of the emotional chords that these songs hit.

So, that day has arrived, and “my guy” is getting married. From the moment he informed me of his engagement, I dreaded this looming occasion. Just don’t invite me to the wedding was my only thought. Actually, it was my second thought…the first was how do I channel my inner Alexis Carrington Colby to break them up?

After a failed attempt to hang out a couple of weeks ago and his subsequent promise to make it up to me, I receive an email of his upcoming itinerary to return to the northeast for work, or so I thought. My hope was that he’d be traveling alone…that, however, was dashed upon reading, “We’ll be coming to CT on Wednesday night.” Although, the fifth sentence was what turned the dagger, “We’re going to MA to get married.” (clockwise) “I’m so excited.” (counterclockwise)

I’m going to meet up with him/them anyway. Perhaps this will be the last time…I might be a glutton for punishment where my feelings for him are concerned, but there is bound to be a limit to what I’d subject myself.

Maybe I lied…maybe just having his friendship is not enough. Maybe it has to be all or nothing because simply flipping a switch for how you feel about a person is not possible, and the pain of longing and wanting soon becomes unbearable.

I’m hurt. I’m also incredibly upset. How oblivious can he be? Does he fail to realize what he’s doing whenever he throws “him” in my face? Even if it’s not with malicious intent, where are the kid gloves…especially knowing that your friend did have feelings for you that were a bit more than just friends.

I’m pissed at myself for feeling this way. I’m pissed at myself for wanting to see him even though I probably shouldn’t but really want to anyway. I’m pissed for whatever I did in this or a past life that warrants this sort of kick in the crotch from the karma gods.

But dammit…more than anything, I want my iPod back…I don’t want to listen to my favorite songs with emotional instability.

Hotties of the Day

2008-09-23T22:32:00.005-04:00

OMFG!!!! I happened upon these pictures and almost lost it! If gold medals were handed out based on hotness, China would NOT have dominated the medals tally in Beijing.

These men, my friends, are Rugby players from the Italian National Team. Following in the footsteps of the championship World Cup team, these athletes are part of a new advertising campaign for Dolce & Gabbana.

And there's a behind the scenes video..

http://www.dolcegabbana.com/deg/underwear/rugby-campaign/home.jsp#

Die Bitches Die!!!

2008-09-23T00:48:00.006-04:00

I never thought that I could possibly hate anyone more than I hate Paris Hilton, President of the “Bitches Famous for Nothing” Club.

Oh well, move over Paris, there’s another skank deserving of a seat at your table: Kim Kardashian.

Why is she famous? Why is she on Dancing with the Stars? Why is she a celebrity?

Much like Paris, this beast is famous for being the daughter of rich people. Her father was one of the lawyers who kept OJ’s ass out of jail for murder…her mother re-married Bruce Jenner, former Olympian who has had way too much plastic surgery…and her step-brother is that huge douche bag Brody Jenner.

Hmm…I’m thinking home invasion where the entire clan gets wiped out. Am I wrong?

I mean, I'd accept it if they were some tarty pop stars who topped the charts in Belgium or someplace. At least the celebrity would be somewhat justifiable. But, famous for being classless socialites? When will this trend end? Soon I hope.

Hopeless

2008-09-20T00:58:00.000-04:00

My head is saying, “Fool, forget him.”
My heart is saying, “Don’t let go.”

One of my favorite songs, but never did I think it would take on a personal meaning.

So, I get a phone call, and with it, an invitation to meet up and do something. It’s been 6 months, and while I know this would do more harm than good, I have to go…I need to go…I want to go.

It’s weird…I’m usually the one giving the speech…it’s quite different being on the other end of the chastising. Perhaps this is karma. All of the years of doling out advice that was clearly easier said than done.

Or perhaps this is the only true way to move forward. Avoidance and feigning disinterest would only bury a landmine…create a sleeping giant for which it’d only be a matter of time before it was awakened.

Yes, it’s more than a little pitiful…yes, it will hurt. But in the end, maybe it will be for the best. Or maybe I’m just a glutton for punishment.

72-Hour Rule

2008-09-17T19:29:00.012-04:00

While having dinner last week, a friend shared an insight with me that helped quantify the colossal “failure” my life has been for the past 6 six years. More than that, however, this insight will hopefully help me to correct some of the mistakes that I have made.

According to my friend, there is a 72-hour rule when it comes to implementing an idea that you come up with. No matter how great the idea, if you fail to act on it within 72 hours, it is very likely that you will NEVER act on it.

A HA Moment #715!! Not that I’ve been sitting on the cure for cancer or anything, but over the years I have come up with a few good ideas, be they show ideas, story ideas, etc. However, thanks to my own procrastination, a bane of my existence that has plagued me since my college years, I have failed to put any of them in motion. I’d put it off for some reason or other only, beyond the limits of a 72-hour window, and rarely have I ever gone back to any of them. I say “rarely” because it’s not like I’ve NEVER re-visit or put a plan in motion…but as I’ve mentioned before, there has been a self-imposed sense of complacency and malaise that has stifled me over these past few years.

So, what does this mean? Well, in line with my recent motivation to exact some positive changes in my life, I’m going to keep in mind the ‘Sale By” date and work harder to fight my procrastination. I suppose it’s like when you’re sick…having a name for what ails you enables you to deal with it more effectively and eventually make yourself well. I feel myself getting better already.

Hottie of the Day

2008-09-17T19:29:00.010-04:00

Hugh Dancy...cutie actor, and he's a Brit!!

Naked Redskin

2008-09-17T19:29:00.007-04:00

OK…so all day on Tuesday, we’re covering the Chris Cooley incident. He’s a cute player on the Redskins who has his own blog(chriscooley47.blogspot.com), and in a recent post, accidentally posted a picture of himself that was more revealing than he intended. Yay..full-frontal!!

Even though he had removed the picture from his blog, once it’s out there, it’s there forever, so I was eager to check out the goods for myself…partially because I wanted to see what all the fuss was about, but mainly because of the naked-cute-athlete thing.

So, in the matter of few key strokes, I find the “offending” picture:

Really? SportsCenter, First Take, Around The Horn, PTI…every one of our news and information shows was compelled to make mention of this incident (without showing the picture, of course) making me think Cooley all but posted something quasi-pornographic. So much so, that he even issued an apology via his blog. But this was all there was? He ought to apologize for being a tease.

Hell, he’s had more revealing pictures from football practice:

Buyer's Remorse

2008-09-12T01:51:00.003-04:00

What’s a trip to NJ without stopping by Mecca? And by Mecca, I am referring to Garden State Plaza, which is my all-time favorite mall. For some reason, I had this overwhelming urge to embark on a shopping spree, perhaps brought on by the impending change in seasons, so, I decide to be impulsive.

My first stop is Kenneth Cole. I browse a couple of the new items, and a few pairs of boots catch my eye. Jennifer, the salesgirl, “twists” my arm, and I try them on. The first pair is ehh…the 2nd pair a little better, but the 3rd pair is great!

Of course, this is the most expensive pair of the three…and far and away would be the most money I’d ever spent for a pair of boots or shoes. By no means Manolo money, but they’re definitely pricey.

She sweetens the deal by offering my 20% off…clearly, it’s even tougher for me to resist now. But this is my first store…I can’t shoot my wad so quickly. So, I tell her I need to think about it a bit more, and that I’ll be back. She tells me that she’ll be there until 5p.

I hit every corner of the mall, virtually lose my mind in Banana Republic, and get my Starbucks fix, however, I am no closer to a final decision. Seeing as I have to pass Kenneth Cole on my way back to the parking garage, I decide to let impulse rule the decision. If I walk by without glancing in the direction of the store, I’ll leave them be. But, if the gravitational pull of the store becomes irresistible, I will buy the boots.

Who was I kidding? Like I wasn’t going to buy the boots. Now, I’m not one get buyer’s remorse for anything. If I want it, I get it, and I usually have no problem making a justification. So, it was a weird feeling to have these 2nd thoughts on my drive back to my parent’s house, then during the drive back to CT, and still now as I compose this entry. What gives?

I’ll perform the true litmus test tomorrow…regardless of how I feel about them, if they don’t do fit well with my wardrobe, it would be wasteful to keep them. While the Keith of old would build a wardrobe around them, Recession Keith is trying to inject some financial sensibility into his decisions. Where was he when the decision to indulge in this impulsive shopping spree was made in the first place?

33

2008-09-07T04:29:00.004-04:00

Ahh…my 30th birthday. I went to Tisane, had way too many martinis, and puked down the side of my friend’s car on the ride home. Much more, I passed out on his couch, spent much of the next afternoon feeling sick as a dog, and I couldn’t even stomach the sight of a martini during my birthday dinner that night.

Fun times aside, I lamented that I wasn’t quite ready for 30 and wanted a do-over for the past 3 years…in essence I wanted to be 27 again. Vanity, however, wasn’t my motivation; rather, I felt that I had no significant accomplishment of note. I was unhappy with my job. The search for my soul’s companion had been a fruitless endeavor, and in general I felt as though life was changing around me while I stood still. Perhaps if had a mental do-over, I could make some changes.

Fast-forward 3 years…I dread going into work. The one guy who resonated with me lives thousands of miles away and is engaged to someone else. Everyone seems to be getting married and/or having babies. I have a cat. Clearly, I missed the point with the do-over.

But, no I’m not going to be 30 again. Instead, I’m going to be 33. Sometimes life doesn’t go according to plan. Sometimes it spins away from you. But you can’t go backward…you just have to set better goals and make a plan to achieve them. I failed on that part.

SO…as I move forward, that’s the mistake I’m going to correct.

Screwed, Lewd, and...

2008-08-30T02:53:00.005-04:00

So, after years of fence-sitting, I finally did it! Granted, it seems as though everyone and his mother has some sort of ink, but I’ve never had any qualms about showing up fashionably late to the party.

I have always wanted to get one, but, aside from the pain, I couldn’t fathom what I’d want to have branded on my body for eternity.

Finally, it came down to a toss-up between the ankh and the symbol for my zodiac sign. No secret now as to which won out…it symbolizes life and immortality. Even before the stencil was traced out, however, the decision for the zodiac sign to be my 2nd tattoo had been made.

Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt as much as I had thought it might, making it all the more likely that I’d consider doing it again.

There were a few people who were surprised that I did it…as one dear friend put it, “I thought you’d sooner become a woman before you got a tattoo.” I love you too!!

As I’ve said before…for as much as I love my box, I supremely relish those opportunities to step outside of it.

And yes, it's me...and no, it ain't henna bitches!!

When Olympic Fever Takes Hold...

2008-08-21T14:38:00.000-04:00

What's That About Money NOT Buying Happiness???

2008-08-18T15:47:00.000-04:00

Oprah scared the hell out of me last week. On Monday, she does a show about healthcare, which completely cured me of my hypochondria. Then on Friday, she did a show that examined poverty in America.

Screw snakes and heights…my biggest fear is being poor and incapable of sustaining my existence. Perhaps it’s the uncertain economic times we are facing…gas prices…foreclosures…the list goes on, and it gets only more depressing and frightening.

Here I am, wondering how I’m going to afford my kitchen remodel and a trip to California, as I’m watching stories about people who don’t have running water or have been left to live in their cars. There’s a town in Illinois that doesn’t even have a zip code, leaving it ineligible to receive money from the government. There are dirt roads, people living in squalor, without the aforementioned running water, and this is just 70 miles outside of Chicago…third world conditions in the United States. And with a majority of people being merely 2-3 paychecks away from poverty, how can any of us not think that this could happen to us.

Of course, the one binding factor in all of these stories is the lack of education among these impoverished masses. I can take some solace in the fact that I am educated and employable, and therefore not totally at risk for such a fate; however, that feeling of security is fleeting. There is just no guarantee for what tomorrow will bring.

Which brings me to the Ed McMahon story…his Beverly Hills mansion is in foreclosure. He had an injury that has kept him from being able to work, which prevented him from being able to make his mortgage payments. In rides Donald Trump to the rescue, who is going to buy Ed McMahon’s house and then rent it to the television legend. I’m sure this is a common tale among many people who have succumbed to the foreclosure crisis. Unfortunately, they don’t have millionaire benefactors to help bail them out of their problems.

Maybe it’s just me, but this story fails to give me the warm fuzzies.

Watch Out...

2008-08-15T05:10:00.002-04:00

If you're not careful the gay mafia will come after you!!

To Thine Own Self...

2008-08-11T16:18:00.000-04:00

So, I’m at Westfarms Mall (big shock), and I stop in Banana Republic (even bigger shock)…gotta check out the stuff for autumn!

Anyway, I see the guy behind the cash wrap, and I think to myself, when did Miss J. Alexander leave America’s Next Top Model to work at BR? All that was missing was the heels and eye makeup...the man was wearing an ascot for god sake, perhaps the gayest article of men’s clothing!

After the snarky remark I make to myself (again, shock), my next thought is, he’s an incredibly brave individual. He’s living his life…living his truth. How many of us can truly say that we’re doing that? For as open-minded and tolerant our society has become, I’m sure that our friendly BR sales associate has to deal with more than his fair share of bitchy remarks and eye-rolls (ahem!) as he walks the footsteps of his life.

For many of us, such a prospect forces us to retreat into a closet, keeping various aspects of our lives completely hidden from view, and no, I’m not just talking about whether we like boys or girls. Ha, it could be as simple and superficial as the type of music we like, whether we leave dirty dishes in the sink, or that we resort to the internet to stoke the embers of our dating lives.

We worry about the judgment we face from people we know, we worry about what the people we don’t know are thinking. And oftentimes, that fear prevents us from living our truths. Privacy for the sake of decorum and propriety is one thing. However, privacy for the sake of keeping our lives secret and hidden limits our ability to be free in our own skins.

Living our personal truths is perhaps one of the bravest acts any of us could commit. So, I take my hat off to my friend at Banana Republic. Just know that I snicker, not because of who are, but it’s because you’re wearing an ascot!

Thank You For Being A Friend

2008-07-24T13:46:00.002-04:00

My heart is heavy as I join so many in mourning the passing of a television legend, Estelle Getty.

To this day, Golden Girls ranks as my all-time favorite show, thanks in no small part to the witty antics of Sophia Petrillo, portrayed to the hilt by Ms. Getty.

As a young boy, I spent Friday nights at home watching my favorite girls. And even now, I am just as amused and entertained by its syndicated run on Lifetime, as well the DVD set that I own. I’ve seen every episode at least a half dozen times each. Quite often, I will laugh to myself at the mere recollection of one of the many one-liners and zingers that became Sophia’s trademark:

“I manage to live 80-90 years. I survive a stroke, pneumonia, 2 major operations. One night I’ll belch and Stable Mable here will blow my head off”

“Yeah, if she finds out Danny Thomas is a lesbian, it’ll break her heart.”

“Hey, Puh-fifer, how would you like a punch in your puh-face?”

Produce Clerk: “You’ve never seen a prettier piece of fruit”
Sophia: “Oh yeah, try kissing my behind. It’s a real peach!”

“A slut is someone who gets knocked up in the backseat of a Studebaker. It was a Studebaker, wasn’t it Dorothy?”

To Dorothy: “I don’t care what they do, but if I ever see you with your hand on Rose’s behind it will break my heart.”

“Jealousy is an ugly thing, Dorothy – and so are you in anything backless.”

Much like with a sick relative, you prepare yourself for the inevitable…you know that sooner or later it’s going to happen. Earlier this year, I even had this sneaking suspicion that the time might be now. Nonetheless, it was still a bit surreal as the wires and entertainment outlets began reporting her death.

I am genuinely saddened by this news. Over the years, I’ve come to feel as though I actually know these women, and Sophia was like my 3rd grandmother. I was on the tennis court when I got a text message from a friend telling me that Estelle Getty passed away. I can’t help but think about my other grandmothers. With health concerns and Alzheimer’s, I dread that it will be too soon before this plays out again.

Rest in peace Sophia…thank you for being a friend. You will be missed!

Don't Call Me Daddy

2008-07-17T17:10:00.007-04:00

There was an episode of Sex and the City where Samantha is organizing a three-some for Richard. They fancy the young hostess at a swanky restaurant they frequent, and the girl is totally game for it.

Anyway, fast-forward to the main event where Samantha is getting territorial for having to share her man. When Richard chides her for not playing nicely, the girl purrs, “Yeah, Daddy.” To this, Richard’s grin fades and he responds, “Get rid of her,” and Samantha nudges her out of the way once again.

So, where am I going with this? It seems that lately, my online profile has been attracting more than a few “kids” who have taken to calling me “Daddy” when they contact me. I’m not talking the “Papi” I’ll get from Latinos, but the “Daddy” that is often reserved for men a bit older, and perhaps a little hairier. WTF!?!?

Now, I’ve made peace, for the most part, with the whole being in my thirties thing. True, the years have seen more than a few more pounds get packed onto my frame, and just maybe my face is bit more rugged and less youthful. However, this is a line I am reluctant to approach, much less cross…at least not for another 10 years.

Had this been something uttered from someone closer to my own age, and in the heat of passion, perhaps I wouldn’t be so bothered. At times, I’ve referred to myself in the third-person as “Daddy.” But, to get these young guys calling me “Daddy” forces me to further acknowledge my getting older in a way that is not on my own terms.

This reminds of funny story…last summer, I’m visiting with Jim and Sharon, and I get a phone call. It was my father calling to check on me after my fender bender a few days earlier. I answer the call with the greeting, “Hi Daddy.”

Upon answering the call, I notice Jim and Sharon look at me and then each other with a quizzical expression their faces. Without missing a beat, I divert my attention from my phone call and clarify to them, “My real father.” We all burst out laughing. So, that’s what I’m doing right now…just laughing.

I'm Lovin' It

2008-07-17T16:58:00.002-04:00

So…I go to McDonald’s one night to satisfy a late-night craving. I know I’m not supposed to, but I had this hankering for a Big & Tasty and some fries.

Something compelled me to look at my receipt after driving away. It was then that I notice an entry, “Take Out Tax.” I wanted to turn around and question the drive-up person of this charge, but I figured she wouldn’t know. But I couldn’t let it go…so, after I get home, I go online and send an email to Corporate, inquiring about this charge.

Now, my mind is busy jumping to all types of conclusions…first with gas prices and the general cost of everything else going through the roof, I am fuming at the thought an extra fee would be assessed for using a Drive-Thru window. And worst, I am assuming that Corporate wouldn’t even respond to my email with nothing more than a generic auto-reply.

Two days go by, and I get an email from Corporate with a full explanation of the tax. Apparently, it’s no different than regular sales tax. Simply, McDonald’s has to differentiate where the sale takes place (Dine In vs. Take Out) because in some states, purchases through the Drive Thru are exempt from sales tax. I was pretty surprised to get this response, as I really thought my inquiry would go ignored. So imagine how much more I was surprised two days later when I received not one, but two voicemails from managers at the Bristol McDonald’s to further follow-up on my inquiry.

I’m big on customer service, so I was really impressed that McDonald’s would take such an active approach to responding to a customer inquiry. I was so ready to rail about how McDonald’s is ripping off customers with this extra fee and that they don’t even give you the courtesy of a response when you contact them. And they do this…nice.

Just when your faith in people and organizations starts to waiver, little things like this steadies the ship a bit…at least until the next time something pisses me off.

Chocolate Sparkle

2008-07-11T17:31:00.005-04:00

HGTV has been my latest fascination. I honestly thought I was over the home improvement thing after the Trading Spaces boom and bust…how many times can a person watch people make over a bedroom with some fresh paint and cheap IKEA furniture? Seriously, how far do you expect to stretch a grand?

Anyhow…HGTV is a whole different entity. For starters, it’s not just the same make over concept…there is also the aspect of the real estate hunt and purchase, as well as the other levels of home improvement such as landscaping and curb appeal.

And then there is my contention that HGTV has the best programming strategy. At the height of the home makeover boom, all shows were an hour long. That requires effort and commitment to watch…not to mention, it also forced the viewer to endure some of the more tedious aspects of the project, despite the fact that it still was not a true representation of the actual scope of what the project entailed.

HGTV, on the other hand, produces its shows to fit a 30-minute format. You’re about half-way through a show before you can decide to commit to the show. By this point, you figure that you might as well stay through until the end. Then, before you know it, the first show ended and seamlessly transitioned into the next show. Then 2 hours pass by, and you wonder how the hell you got sucked in….what, am I the only one?

Now, all this has served to do is make me hate my kitchen…I need new cabinets and appliances…re-sale value is in the kitchen and bathroom!! But that’s also a $15K renovation…it bit beyond my current budget for household improvements.

So, instead, I decided to re-paint my bedroom. About 3 years ago, I made the bold move of painting the room RED…Ruby Ring to be exact. Don’t get me wrong, I loved the color, but chose the wrong finish…how was I to know that a Satin finish would be all wrong…I guess my Gay was acting up on that day. Anyway, I initially thought about having another go with RED, but with a more appropriate finish…but then I thought, how about Chocolate Brown?? I may as well go all the way if I’m going to re-paint.

I chose Chocolate Sparkle…seemed the closest shade of brown to what I was envisioning…I knew that it would look like shit when I applied it to the walls, I just hoped that it wouldn’t look like shit when it dried. If only I had the crew that HGTV and TLC uses…leading us to believe that these design endeavors can be accomplished in no time…bastards!!

Thankfully, I was able to talk Jani into helping me out…thanks Sugarbean!! After a few hours, with a couple of breaks to watch the Wimbledon men’s final, the transformation was complete:

BEFORE:
AFTER:
It’s sexy and dramatic…I just love the new color…great choice! Although, am I the only one who thinks “Chocolate Sparkle” would best serve as the name of a stripper?

"I don't like cities, but I love New York"

2008-07-11T15:07:00.018-04:00

I love NYC!! Granted, I have outgrown my fantasies about living in the city…rather, now I dream about moving to Westchester or one of the other suburbs just outside of NYC…such is the journey into middle age I suppose.

But when the opportunity for a day trip down to the city presents itself, I am ever eager to pounce on it. Such was the case this past week, where Jani and I made a fun trek…and we pretty much trekked Manhattan from top to bottom. Fortunately, the humidity wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be, and the late day thunderstorm wasn’t as severe as the dark skies belied. Nevertheless, by day’s end, we were physically spent as well as dirty and sweaty…ahh, the stink of the city!

We had no set agenda or plan except to hit Central Park and pop through Chelsea Market so that we could indulge ourselves at Fat Witch Brownie. Otherwise, we were open to go whichever way the wind blew, and we did.

Central Park was fun…that it sits right in the middle of Manhattan is amazing…as we walked through the park, you could hear none of the hustle and bustle of the city…no honking horns, no sirens, no noise. The scenery, the fountains, And there was plenty of eye candy.

We were sweaty and sticky, but I insisted we take a picture in front of the fountain.

Clearly, a number of people see this locale as a fantastic setting for a photo shoot!!

As we were walking past the baseball fields, we saw this one cute boy next door type. He was dressed in his work clothes and wheeled his equipment behind him. Jani and I abruptly stopped and contemplated following him rather than our own path. Much to our benefit, he didn’t venture too far past where we were standing. As he stood on the bleachers adjacent to the ball field, we wondered where he would change his clothes. Would we be so lucky as to have a bird’s eye view of this cutie dropping trou to get ready for his game? We watched as he quickly glanced around, and before we knew it, off came the shirt…NICE!! If only I had my camera ready for that photo op. And then went the pants…in case you were wondering, he was a boxer briefs boy! Again, I’m regretting that I couldn’t get a pic.

From there it was down to Chelsea...we bought a couple of treats at Fat Witch, but were over the moon for the cupcakes at Eleni’s. It wasn’t so much the sweet tooth as much as the need for food. So, from there we went to Cowgirl for lunch…a nice little place, with outdoor seating. Again, there was some fantastic eye candy walking by. Then it was through the Village and over to Union Square. At this point, we were concerned about the ominous clouds looming overhead…so much so that I bypassed the sex shops…then again, you been to one, you’ve been to them all…there will be other times.

All in all, it was a great day; however, it did beg the question as to why one would choose to live in the city if it meant compromising so many of life’s creature comforts and inhibited your ability to take advantage of all that the city has to offer. I’ve often lamented that part of my reason for abandoning my dream of living in the city stems from my inability to live up to the lifestyle to which I’ve grown accustomed. I love the nightlife, going to shows, and dinners out. Undoubtedly, that would not be entirely possible if I lived in the city. Not to mention, the prospect of paying $2000 to live in an apartment that was roughly the size of what I’d want for a closet would kill me. Perhaps it is the allure of the city that trumps all. Maybe there is something about living in the city that makes all of the sacrificing worthwhile…and you’d only see it by actually living there.

Some other snapshots: What is it about a visible buttcrack that commands the attention of passersby?

One of my favorite NYC landmarks, though I always seem to find it by accident...not so much today though.

It seemed only fitting that we came across the Puck Building while we were walking around. For the unitiated, this exterior was used in Will & Grace as the location of Grace's workspace.

It's a well-known fact that this is my favorite store. However, I have an obsession with stopping in every Banana Republic I come across when I'm in the city. Prior to this trip, my personal record was 4 BRs in one trip. This store, located at Bleeker and 6th, is special because it was #5 on the day...a new record. Although, much like Barry's 756th, it bears an asterisk...unlike other trips, I had to seek this one out. Most notably, this was a special boutique for the BR Monogram label...quite the swanky set up with the elaborate dressing area as opposed to the dressing room stalls, limited merchandise on the floor, and there were curtains around the cash wrap area, so that "client" doesn't have to watch the "merchandise specialist" ring up the sale.

Hotties of the Day

2008-07-11T14:21:00.008-04:00

No, these are not models or actors, but they are actual rugby players. This picture was part of a photo shoot for some testicular cancer charity...get it, balls??

And these men are members of the reigning World Cup champion team in a Dolce & Gabbana photo shoot for underwear. That would be Italy, for those who didn't know.

Is there any question why soccer is the #1 sport in the rest of the world?

Anyway, charity aside, it is not uncommon to see international male athletes pose in various states of undress for photo shoots that celebrate the beauty of the male form, if nothing else. However, you would be hard-pressed to find any American male athlete take such a liberty, charity or not.

Imagine for a second if members of the NY Giants or Boston Red Sox were featured prominently in a similar campaign after winning their respective championships. Or what if Tom Brady stripped down for testicular cancer? David Beckham bares quite a bit simply because it's Tuesday...but for the record, with those looks and that body, you can not blame him.

Why is the American sports machine so far behind in this aspect? Is there that much concern about what sports reporters are going to say? It can't be the locker room. Are we so full of ourselves that we think it diminishes the integrity of the sport? Or is this just another example of how we are so grossly uncomfortable with our own sexuality?

Thankfully, the Europeans aren't shy when it comes to flaunting it when they've got it! David Wright, A-Rod?? Are you listening??

Too Funny!!

2008-07-02T16:39:00.002-04:00

I saw this, and it totally took the piss out of a crappy day. Enjoy!!

Not Quite Cried Out

2008-06-25T02:05:00.000-04:00

Ahh…it appears that my streak doesn’t date back to 1997. A very good friend reminded that I had a “water-shed” moment a lot more recently.

November 10, 2004…the date of the first Bambi incident. As I stood on the side of the road watching the tow truck pull my car off of the fence on which it landed after the car flipped, my mind was flooded with the images of what just happened.

The realization of what could have happened, coupled with the gratitude that I walked away without a scratch left me on an emotional edge. So, Sharon wrapping her arm around my back to console me was all that it took to push me over the edge.

Interestingly, being reminded that it’s been less than 4 years since the last time I cried rather than 10 didn’t reassure me that I was not emotionally barren. In a weird way, I think I was disappointed. I realize now that I regarded this 10-year mark as a sort of badge. I made the mistake of equating tears with weakness and vulnerability, and as such, having gone so long without crying was a sign of strength.

Over the years, I have made a concerted effort to keep from exposing my emotions…even among my closest friends. And while it has not kept me from developing close ties, I think this guard I’ve maintained has certainly inhibited my emotional availability.

However, as I think back to that night in ’04 when I cried on Sharon’s shoulder, I can’t help but acknowledge that regardless of walls one might construct to guard his emotions, there are some people who manage to penetrate that guard anyway…giving you an ear to bend or a shoulder to cry on…those are special people.

Two Tears In a Bucket...Fuck It

2008-06-24T01:19:00.002-04:00

I am physically incapable of crying. It has been over 10 years since the last time I cried…August 1, 1997. That was the day I was moving up to CT to begin the post-college chapters of my life.

It was a tough decision…one that my mother didn’t take so easily. Anyway, I overheard our landlady consoling my mother, who was crying over the fact that I was moving away. Well, I had done a great job of maintaining my composure until that very moment. The mere sound of my mother crying caused over emotion I was feeling to rush to the surface. I ran into the bathroom and bawled like a baby…I’m talking the ugly cry…sobbing, snotting, the whole she-bang. After this little episode, I washed my face, regained my composure, and never shed another tear.

Now, I wouldn’t say that I made a pledge with myself to never cry again. It’s just something that happened unconsciously. And it wasn’t for lack of external stimuli…we’re talking years that brought us Columbine, 9/11, Katrina, the War in Iraq….there have been deaths and illness in the family, as well as a few significant personal disappointments. However, no catharsis ever resulted in tears.

So…fast forward to my most recent heartbreak. I’m lamenting over my pain with a friend, and he says that perhaps I just need a good cry to get things out and perhaps make myself feel better. While I’m not a big advocate of crying over a man, I do believe that releasing your emotions can be therapeutic.

As I wallow, I feel my emotions rise to the surface and tears well in my eyes, but then nothing. Believe me when I say I’ve never felt a pain, a heartache like this…it hurts like hell. Surely, it should manifest itself with some waterworks, but nothing. No crying, no tears. Does this mean I possess an inner strength that allows me to maintain my composure despite whatever emotional turmoil I might face? I doubt it. Perhaps I am dead inside? Contrary to popular belief, that’s not true either.

I have no explanation…maybe it’s that crying isn’t the only way for a person to express his emotions and feelings. I may not squirt tears, but I don’t keep my emotions bottled inside…maybe crying just isn’t for me. My only hope at this point is that when the levees do break, it’s not too messy.

Can You Hear Me Now???

2008-06-13T00:19:00.003-04:00

We’ve all asked the question…what in the world did we do before cell phones? No matter where you go, someone is carrying one or has a Bluetooth earpiece clipped to his earlobe. Blackberrys, Treos, iPhones, there’s virtually no way for a person NOT to be reached.

Not to mention, we’ve been in the company of THAT person. Their phone rings, vibrates, raps, whatever, and they readily answer the call or text…anytime, anyplace. It’s practically an appendage for some people.

So, tell me, how far is “I didn’t get your text,” or “I didn’t have my phone with me” supposed to fly?

Breaking Point

2008-06-08T00:46:00.001-04:00

Mark it down…Tuesday, June 3, 2008…this is the day that I officially no longer care. It was a horrible day at work, and I have reached my breaking point. For the first time in all my years, I felt the need for a drink after work, and I actually indulged…a Corona and a shot of Patron, please!!

Where to start…we launched our 14th network, and I arrive to the sight of a gaggle of grinning Supervisors and OAs excited by yet another feather in ours collective caps. Too bad we don’t have enough staff to support this newest endeavor…check that, I think we exceeded our limits at network #12.

To make things worst, I’m also confronted by the knowledge that we missed a schedule change on Monday. I saw it early during the day, but something else demanded my attention, and I never got back to it. This was not a good start to the day, and it never got any better.

I’ve made it no secret over the years that I was eager to move on. Unfortunately, efforts to move on have not been successful. However, I’ve always managed to see a bright side to the situation. But I’m tapped out now. I went into my weekend figuring that I’ll be in a better frame of mine upon returning to work, but it didn’t happen. I came back to work on Friday just as irritated and annoyed as when I left. Saturday was a very busy day, and rather than feel motivated by the hustle, I was just became increasingly frustrated. I don’t feel supported. For the past 18 months, I’ve tried to be positive and see the bigger picture. I’ve often chided others for not being positive…well, now I’m done. I’m too much of a perfectionist to abandon the quality of my work, and I don’t intend to become a negative nelly, but I’m checking out…Elvis is leaving the building. It’s time for something drastic!!

Prada, Gucci, and Louis Vuitton

2008-05-27T20:08:00.003-04:00

This has been around for while, and I've pushed on a few people already, but she still makes me laugh!!

Fucking Bambi!!!

2008-05-24T15:45:00.005-04:00

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!! As if my day didn’t already suck ass, Friday ended on an even worst note…I hit a deer while I was driving back home from New London.

Mind you, there are multiple points where I’m driving along a pitch black stretch of highway. So, imagine my surprise when I hit a deer on a well-lit part of Rt. 72 in New Britain.

I’m in the center lane, just minutes away from home, and in the blink of an eye, a small deer runs right in front of my car. I had no time to react except to hit it. Probably not a bad thing given the last time I had a run-in with a deer…I swerved and ended up totaling my Jetta. So, it runs in front of me, I hit it, it keeps running, and I keep driving. WTF?!?!

When I inspect the damage, I see that my grill is totally smashed, the hood is a little dented, the headlights are slightly dislocated, and there’s a part of the grill around the fog light is missing. Pretty much, everything that was fixed last summer is fucked up again. There’s even Bambi fur scattered around what’s left of the grill.

I’m grateful that it wasn’t a larger deer…imagine the damage that would have been caused…hell, not just to the car, but to me! Once again, Daddy walks away without a scrape...at least no physical ones. And this is why I stay fully covered…$100 deductible with rental reimbursement baby!!

So what’s the tally now…there was the wild turkey in ‘03…the first Bambi incident back in ’04…the rear-ending in ’07…and now the Bambi incident of ’08. If the pattern holds, I should be good until 2011.

Serious

2008-05-24T04:27:00.001-04:00

Isn’t it funny how one minute you can by flying high, on top of the world…and the next minute you come crashing down to the ground?

I was doing so well…then one comment within one conversation changed everything…”we’ve gotten a little more serious.” Simple words, complex emotions.

My heart dropped into my stomach…Emmy nomination for maintaining composure and pretending to be fine with it all. WTF?!?! Somehow I croaked out, “good for you guys.” UGH!

Why is this so difficult? To my girls, I whole-heartedly apologize for anytime you lamented about a guy, and I rolled my eyes…you didn’t see me do it, but I did…for that, I offer only the humblest of apologies.

If Birds Can Fly...

2008-05-23T04:37:00.003-04:00

Sometimes it’s the simple things that leave a smile on my face, but rarely does this ever happen on my way into work. As I drove into the parking lot on Thursday evening, there was a very pleasant sight before me…a rainbow.

Not that I needed much help maintaining my good mood this week, but it helped get my work day off to a great start.

Some Pics

2008-05-18T04:05:00.013-04:00

Here are a couple of pics...mind you, I try not to be overly touristy and snap pictures of everything I see, but here are a few snaps that I did take:

Some pics of the resort...unfortunately, there weren't many I could take without catching some nudity, and I didn't want to impose on any other guests :-)

Here are a couple of the other neighboring guest houses...I just really liked the houses.

A grown woman with pigtails?? Seriously??

OK...I had to get a pic of the Southernmost point. It's a total tourist trap, but it's a must...here's how I was entertained while I was waiting to take my picture. Show me sexy??

Tales From The Keys

2008-05-18T03:06:00.005-04:00

Now for the other stuff…

I got an uninvited lap dance from a go-go boy at KWest Men…he was cute, and he showed me his penis. Should I feel bad for not tipping him? At the same time, I didn’t ask for the dance. Not to mention, when I saw this same go-go boy at another bar when he was off-duty, he didn’t even give me a second glance…so, I’m not beat.

Watching him and the other boys with their swinging Richards, I couldn’t help but feel a little depressed. Working for trade…a grope for a buck, and who knows what else, for the right price. Then I was thinking about the guys at the other bar I frequented during this trip. There was this really hot dancer at Bourbon Street Pub… he had an amazing body. He was starting to go bald a little…probably in his 30s…I wondered, how do they spend their day? Also…what lies ahead for the guy in his 30s? In your 20’s, there’s the fantasy that your whole life is ahead of you, and dick-dancing is merely a temporary means to an end…but what about when you hit your 30s?

Phil is the guy who stayed in the room next door to mine. We shared a bathroom. He lives in DC and works for the government. He was traveling without his husband this time around. He said they usually each take their own vacation during the year and then one big trip together later in the year. That’s how they plan to celebrate Phil’s 50th birthday later this year.

OMG…I can’t forget about Rick from Miami. I can’t remember what he does for a living, but I’ll tell you, this man was hot for sure…walking sex is how I’d describe him…chiseled, lean, and muscular…dark hair and eyes…a nice goatee. (Kind of like him) He caught my eye on Wednesday night. He had driven down to Key West with a couple of friends. Our paths kept crossing at each of the bars over the course of the night. I took the opportunity to chat him up while we were walking back to our respective hotels. Had I been bold enough, I would have invited him to continue our conversation, but alas, I was not…honestly, I’m surprised I struck up the conversation in the first place. Unfortunately, our paths did not cross again before I had to leave…I saw him from a distance on Thursday night, but that was about it. Damn, he was HOT!!

Then there were the guys who invited me out to dinner with them on Thursday night…for the life of me, I can’t remember all of their names, but they were incredibly nice…I remember a Garth and a Stuart. One of the guys was from the Midwest, but the others were from NY. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to join them for dinner, but I did run into them out and about later that night.

The guys from Naked Boys Singing was in town this week. They will be performing at one of the local theaters later this month. Interestingly, one of the guys in this cast performed with the NYC cast that I had seen a couple of time. It was cool to meet them, though Eric was a little bitchier than I thought he’d be…not totally bad though.

I met Alexis and Jeff at Mangoes on Friday afternoon before I had to make my return. I noticed her right off as they arrived…pretty Black woman…she was wearing a cute pink and green skirt and polo ensemble. I immediately thought AKA. He was an older, white man…an interracial couple. She’s the total trophy wife...Alice would be so envious. We had a pleasant conversation at the bar…they came down for his birthday weekend. She had plans for a facial and a massage for later in the afternoon. She told me that when they travel, in addition to hitting up the hot bar spots, they like to hit up the strip clubs as well, and apparently, they’re torn between the two that are in Key West. Jeff likes one because the women are hotter there. Alexis likes the other one because it has a cooler vibe and atmosphere. She’ll concede this time around because it is his birthday. They’re supposed to be in New Haven in July. She seems like she’d be fun to hang out with. Too bad I didn’t give them my contact information.

I am so going back!!!

Coming Back

2008-05-16T16:37:00.003-04:00

All good things must come to an end?. I’m sitting in the bar/restaurant at the Key West airport lamenting my return to CT and real life. It has been a very relaxing and reflective couple of days away. I am so glad that I took the trip.

And to think that Key West never rated high on my list of places to eventually visit. This wasn’t for any bad reason, it just didn’t register. So, I guess that makes it all the more fascinating that it became my spur of the moment destination of choice and that I had such a good time.

The weather has been great…especially seeing as spring seems to have taken a detour on its way to CT. I got some sun! Normally, I don’t care for the sun…my mother often said it’s not like I need to get any blacker. I met a couple of interesting people, saw a couple of excellent drag shows, and spent more money than I probably should have…but oh well.

After all is said and done, Daddy feels rejuvenated and refreshed.

We Always Dress For Dinner

2008-05-15T17:54:00.000-04:00

OK…so I’m staying at a resort called Island House. It’s all men and all gay…and it’s clothing optional!!!

Yes folks, Daddy went where few, including him, thought he could go. I spent most of Wednesday afternoon lounging in the sun wearing nothing more than a pair of flip flops. I took proper precautions to ensure I didn’t burn any delicate areas.

I was a little nervous at first. If I had Jason Taylor’s body, perhaps I wouldn’t have much reason to feel so self-conscious. But, I don’t…and neither did some of other men staying here. Yet, everyone is free to be. No muss, no fuss…just walking around without a care. I needed to get away so that I could have that feeling...to be unencumbered. So, I went for it!

Does this mean I’m going full out nudist…absolutely NOT! There is a time and place, but I very much enjoyed the opportunity to take a vacation away from myself and to explore a different side of myself; no pun intended.

Get Away

2008-05-15T17:35:00.000-04:00

Daddy needs a vacation. I arrived at that conclusion about 4 weeks ago…feeling frustrated with life, I just wanted to get away. This certainly isn’t the first time I’ve had this feeling, but it was certainly the first time I just went with it.

Surprisingly, Key West was barely ever a blip on my radar. But it all comes down to timing…just as I was feeling the need to go away, I kept seeing these advertisements for this guest house in Key West. Maybe it was the idea of soaking in rays poolside, or perhaps it was the enticing pictures of half-naked (and totally naked) men in the advertisements. Either way, before I knew it, I was booking a flight and making a reservation at Island House.

I’m traveling alone, with only the vaguest of itineraries planned. I can’t wait to see what comes of this adventure. Hopefully, I’ll manage to take a step away from myself and really let go…fully enjoying this spur of the moment trip. Stay tuned!!

Mama's Boy

2008-05-15T17:19:00.001-04:00

I am a horrible blogger. I can’t believe that it’s been over a month since my last post. While it hasn’t been the most eventful month, a few things have happened.

I managed a trip back down to NJ last weekend to spend Mother’s Day with my mother. I think I would have had to forfeit my claim to being a Mama’s Boy if I didn’t make it down this weekend.

It was an enjoyable visit…I took an extra day so that I could make the most of it. My mother totally enjoyed that I was home. While I still feel as close to my mother as ever, I can’t help but wonder what our relationship would be like if I had not moved to CT. If ifs and buts were candy and nuts…right?

She’s such a small lady to me now…not that I’m so big. Every time I walk past her, I have to grab her into a big hug and just squeeze. Or I pinch her cheeks or grab her nose...most of the time she just lets me do it. I would kill for this woman!

Right now, my mother is dealing with my grandmother who is going through the early stages of Alzheimer’s. It can be a bit depressing to visit at times because she doesn’t have much to talk about because of her memory, and she ends up asking the same question about 12 times. When my mother vents her frustrations, I can’t help but think that I could be dealing with this very situation, and the thought totally breaks my heart. We’ve already established that I will be hiring a nurse because there’s no way in hell I’m going to be able to change her diapers…LOL

I also managed to hang out with an old friend back from junior high school. Nicole Willams holds the sole distinction of being the only girlfriend I ever had…way back before I knew any better. I hadn’t seen her in about 10 years. I visited her shortly after I moved to CT while she was finishing her degree at Northeastern in Boston. We kept in touch over the years via random emails, but no face to face contact until last month when I came down for her wedding. I made a pact with her during the reception to not wait for another 10 years to see her again and immediately planned to visit with her during my next visit home.

It was great to catch up with her…dammit I’m getting old. We met up at a nice little restaurant in South Orange called Café Arugula, and then after they kicked us out, we had a couple of drinks at this other spot called Voro.

The highlight of the weekend, however, has to go to my trek to Garden State Plaza with Judiva…or better I say, it was the hour-long endeavor to get out of the parking garage. That is why I avoid the malls on Saturdays! But that was not a luxury afforded us this time around.

Anyway…as we are crawling out of the parking garage, with row after row, trying to merge into another, there was this one persistent SUV who tried to force his issue with Judiva. Well, a road rage that I didn’t know existed emerged from her. As she crept forward, preventing him from merging into exiting traffic, he shouted “asshole” at the car. It was then that Judiva rolled down the window (on my side of the car) and start shouting back. It was then that the SUV attempted to inch closer to the car, almost hitting us (again, on my side). It was at this point that Judiva yells, “You wanna do this? You wanna do this? Cuz I can make it happen! I can make it happen!”

Now, I’m not even looking at the other driver because I can’t remove my gaze from the raging Judiva. Part of it was in disbelief…a bigger part was in amusement…it was funny as all hell! A couple of minutes after this little exchange, we both are laughing are asses off! She then asks me, “What did I say because I kind of blacked out back there?” This only causes me to laugh even harder.

Douche

2008-04-04T06:31:00.006-04:00

OK…if I’m thinking it, chances are I’m saying it. It was only a matter of time before that would bite me on the ass.

So, my boss asks me come into work a little early so that we could discuss something that was recently brought to his attention. He asks me if I recall an occasion where I said something inappropriate to another co-worker. I replied, “Pick a day.”

Anyway, I recount the incident, providing the proper details for what actually happened. In a nutshell…

Me (to 3rd party): “…as always, I smell you before I see you.”
3rd party Co-worker: Laughs
Whiny Co-worker: Uninvited comment at my expense.
Me (to Whiny Co-worker): “I don’t think I was talking to you.”

About an hour or so later…
Whiny Co-worker: I have question.
Me: Yes, you are a douche.

--Personally, I thought the comic timing was impeccable. And for the record, I did answer his actual question.

Another hour or so later…

Whiny Co-worker: “By the way, if I called someone a douche, I would have been reported to HR.”
Me: “I don’t recall anyone saying that you couldn’t report me.”
Whiny Co-worker: “Well, maybe next time I will.”
Me: “Well, if it makes you feel better, go ahead and do it. I really don’t care.”

So, I guess I’m really not surprised that I got a speaking to about this. I’m more surprised that it was this incident…but then again, Al Capone was taken down by tax evasion. Besides, there’s no rule that requires me to be nice.

Now, don’t get me wrong…I am not saying that I behaved appropriately, but seriously? When did the workplace become filled with so many babies? Thank God I didn’t suggest he remove his vagina, and stop being such a girl!!...HA HA HA!! Geez, you’d think I’d learn my lesson.

I did some research, and Urban Dictionary defines douche as “a waste of oxygen; an idiot.” I firmly believe that it’s not mean if it’s true, and since when is it a crime to speak the truth.

And for the record…running and complaining that someone called you a name (albeit in jest) is quite douchey. That just proves my point!

He's Not Him

2008-03-20T20:29:00.002-04:00

He lays on the edge of the bed watching the daylight peek through the sides of the curtains. He wonders to himself, “What did I do?”

Last night was fun. At the time, it seemed like a great way to clear the mind, and this new friend is definitely a very nice guy. As the creature begins to stir, it’s apparent that toast and coffee are not the continental breakfast of choice this morning, but there’s no way he can do it again. Perhaps if he just lies still Mr. Right Now will be kept at bay…and when he awakes with a “headache,” he should be in the clear.

This certainly defies convention. Normally, the best route over one man is under another. It’s worked well for him the past. Why is this time any different? He knows the answer to that question without even having to think about it.

He clearly underestimated the situation…he should have known better. This is not going to be easy.

Texas Trifecta

2008-03-19T16:53:00.003-04:00

It has been quite the couple of weeks for me…emotionally anyway. Let’s see, Tony Bennett left his heart in San Francisco…I left mine in Houston.

I met “Alan” about 4 years ago in an AOL chat room. We IM’d a bit, and then chatted on the phone. He gave me the nickname “Nebraska” because according to him, my “accent” was similar to that of a native Nebraskan…this was a first. He was in CT visiting family. We never actually met during this visit. He’d eventually return to Kansas, and our friendship would develop via email and Myspace.

Fast-forward four years and by happenstance, Alan is back in CT visiting family. Though, it’s not possible for us to finally meet this time, he is due to return to CT a few weeks later, and we plan to finally meet up at that time. We meet for drinks and then for brunch the following morning.

I enjoy spending this brief bit of time with him…he is as engaging and fun in person as he was over email and on the phone. Also, despite every impulse, my virtue remains intact. A large part, I’m sure, was due to my shyness…but I guess another part was the thought of sullying a friendship…nah, it had to be the shyness.

Anyway, by now, Alan had left Kansas for Florida, and he was soon due to relocate to Houston. Surely, I’d make a trip to visit him. Seeing as I had made two trips to Texas (Dallas and Austin) over the past two years, this would allow me to complete my Texas Trifecta and effectively check the state of Texas off my list.

Well, something funny happened on the way to the forum. As the two days quickly flew by, I found myself falling him. The question now was do I tell him before I go…or at all. In the end, I backed off of telling him during the visit. In case there was to be some degree of awkwardness, I’d prefer that it didn’t put a damper on happy hour. Besides, he was due to be in CT the following week, and we were bound to hang out at some point…I’ll do it then.

So, I leave Houston totally smitten. I even gushed to a couple of friends about how much I hearted this man. He occupied the majority of my thoughts, and this made me giddy and happy. NEVER BEFORE has anyone inspired such feelings for me…NEVER!! I was just as shocked as anyone else. More than that, I certainly never found myself pondering how to tell someone that I liked him.

As expected, I chicken out on my first attempt; however, I take the leap on my second. In the end, however, a blissful, civil-unionized future is not in the cards for us. While there does exist mutual feelings of adoration, there are a number of factors that stand in the way of a smooth ride into the sunset…not the least of which is the 3000+ miles that lie between Houston and CT.

So, having hugged and parted ways with my soul mate, my mind does feel a bit of ease…much has weighed on it of late. However, my focus is still a little cloudy. On the one hand, I’m happy for having gone through these feelings, more importantly for overcoming the fear of rejection by opening up my heart and expressing my true feelings for someone. On the other hand, however, I’m left wondering, what next? Much of the anguish I have felt has subsided a bit, but what will happen when I see him next month? If it were purely my choice, is this what I would have preferred? I guess only time will clear things up.

Die Ryan Die!!!

2008-03-12T22:33:00.003-04:00

I hope Ryan Seacrest contracts a nasty staph infection! Is that wrong of me?

This rotten S.O.B has become more and more obnoxious with every season of American Idol. I’m really hoping for the day that Simon Cowell charges the stage and whoops his ass…or anyone for that matter. Actually, how about if Brian Dunkelmann emerges from the audiences, pounces on him, and rains down blows upon him until Ryan is a weeping, bloody mess…because you know he’s a cryer.

I don’t know what it is…I didn’t always have contempt for him. Perhaps as his profile grew with American Idol, so did his head, making him unbearably annoying. Added to his ambition to become the next Dick Clark, I can’t help but feel a monster has been created, and we are forced to bear witness to this beast grow bigger and bigger.

I have the gun…who has the silver bullets??

What I Want or What I Deserve??

2008-03-12T01:04:00.005-04:00

So…I'm browsing through an entertainment blog and come across this picture of Katherine Heigle and T.R. Knight. I don't really care about the entertainment item itself, but I do notice the sneakers that T.R. Knight is wearing…I'm intrigued.

I copy the picture so that I can enlarge it and better identify the footwear…they're Pumas. So, now I head over to Puma.com and search through every "lifestyle" shoe to find a match…ahh, Puma Voltaic. So, I heart them enough to make the purchase…DENIED!! They don't have my size in the color I want. I search other places on the internet…NADA!! Either they don't have my size or they don't have the color. OMG, I'm feeling that sense of déjà vu from last spring when I was searching for a pair of white-on-white Diesel sneakers. That search ended with me begrudgingly settling on the black-on-black pair…it was just not the same.

Back to the here and now…the more I can't find the shoe, the more I want it, and every internet search is turning up a huge goose egg. Out of sheer stubborness, I go back to Puma.com and look again. EUREKA…they have my shoe…the color and the size I want. I'm tempted to wait to buy, but I don't want to risk losing it, so I pounce. CLICK, CLICK, SUBMIT…I should have them within 7-10 business days.

So, I arrive home from work Tuesday evening to find a box on my doorstep…YAY!! I rush inside, throw down the mail, tear open the box…ahh, the smell of new shoes. I kick off my Kenneth Cole chelsea boots so that I can try on my new Pumas…umm, they're a little tight. Oh my effin God, they're too small!! WTF?!?!?!?!

After all of this, they are too small. Yes, I can (and will) get a bigger size. But, the principle…to come so close to the carrot and have it yanked out of reach.

Ahh…YOU are a vengeful God.

And Here We Begin...

2008-03-07T18:09:00.002-05:00

Seems like everyone and his mother has a blog these days. I must admit, I browse more than a few on a daily basis and am often quite entertained by the random goings-on of other people's lives. If only my own life were so interesting...this thought has often crept into my head as I read through pages of other people's life stories, but I figured I'd jump on the bandwagon anyway.

Life presents each of us with our own journey to travel. What makes it all truly interesting is that we're given the opportunity to learn and grow. Perhaps it makes us better people...or maybe we just end up looking like asses. In the very least, we pick up a few fun stories along the way. So, I'll be a little self-indulgent and share some of mine.

At the end of the day, I don't judge...I just criticize.