A World Made of Steel; Made of Stone

They say that trying is the hardest thing of all. Well. I don't really know who they are or who really says this but I think I may or may not have actually heard it somewhere before quite possibly. But the point is that I believe it. Wholeheartedly. Just trying is SO HARD.

The economy has really taken a turn for the worse. Everyone is affected. When customers ask me all I say to them is, "It's about the same for everybody." But its not. I took a "promotion" to move up here. I wouldn't trade it for the world but it has been hard as hell on me. Especially on my pocket.

Take your Passion and make it happen...

In an attempt to grow the F up and become and adult I figured that if I took a move that took me this far away from my parents I would be forced to fully understand what it means to be independent and live on my own. It has been a quite humbling experience to learn that I could just not afford to do it on my own. With the help of my parents I have managed to avoid getting to the point of bill collectors and terribly bad debt, but only by a hair.

Now I'm dancing for my life...

All the people around me are in the same boat. For the longest time it felt like I was on my own. I was one of the only ones that was figuring out just how late you can pay a bill and get away with it. I thought I was on my own when I got eviction threats at my last apartment complex because I had not paid the rent on the day that it was due. I was glad to find that in Massachusetts it is a state law that the rent is not considered late until it is paid after the last day of the month. So if it is seemingly due on October 1st, then it is not officially late until September 1st. This was not something that I should have found out about. I got in pretty deep and had to move out of that complex in order to make attempts to be able to catch up with the other bills that were piling up.

I'm pretty much at a point where I am breaking even now, but it is a constant struggle. It has become a constant sickness in the pit of my stomach thinking about the pending bills that I have. The economy is going down the drain. People are having less and less money, and bills and gas prices keep going up. I don't get it. Adulthood ain't what its cracked up to be. That's fo sho!

What a Feeling.

Someone To Watch Over Me

Being gay is overrated. At 27 years of age I have never had a relationship. Well, at least, not with another guy. I have had plenty of long-term relationships with women. They might be nonsexual but they have lasted longer than any connection I have ever made with another man.

Its really tough. Straight friends tell me that it is the same for them. Their frustrations. Their single lives are just like the single lives of gay men. They believe themselves to be just as desperate.

I look around the gay community and I see more sadness than joy. I see people that settle for less. I see people selling themselves short. I see couples that are not happy but are content. I see older gay men that are dating younger gay men. You would say this was just like the Cougar craze amongst pre-menopausal women yet the age difference is much greater. 60 with 30. 50 with 20. I don't know. Maybe it is just the same, it just seems more psychologically disturbing when it is two men. I guess I take that back. The spread Madonna did with that Jesus kid in W magazine was pretty disturbing.

I just think about how awful it is that I get stuck dating older men. They are the only ones that smile back at me when I check them out. They respond to my texts. They actually show up for our date when we set it a month out in advance. I still want to grow old with someone my own age. I think about what it might be like to bring one of these older men home to my parents and it disturbs me. The idea of them being able to talk about things that happened before I was born drives me insane. It just doesn't feel right?

My buddy Mike seems so content to be single. He does not even think that he wants a relationship anytime soon. The most disturbing part about it is that he currently has 3 or so different guys that are dying to date him. He doesn't even put out and they keep coming around. They won't leave him alone, and yet he could take it or leave it.

My good friend Rich, who is one of the sweetest souls I know tells me that I am a catch all the time. It just doesn't feel as good to be called a catch unless you are getting caught.

My friend Kelly said to me one time with confidence, "You CHOOSE to be single, Justin!"

I asked her who my choices were that I was saying no to. Who is in my dating pool that I am refusing to date? That is when it would be a choice that I was making. I don't even have anybody to turn down. She crooked her head to one side, arched and eyebrow and opened her mouth to let out a silence. She sighed, "Well, I will get back to you." This is Kelly's way of admitting defeat. She realized that her statement was spoken right outside of her ass. She likes enjoys making statements out of her ass, and I love her for it, because it gets me thinking. But she was wrong in the statement that I am CHOOSING to be single. I am not.

The more days, the more months, and the more years that pass by and I stay single I am finding out more and more about relationships. I am finding out what truly makes up a healthy one. I am learning that ideally there are no healthy ones. That the healthiest relationships seem to be the ones that are the most fucked up. The ones that offer the drama and chaos; These are the relationships that seem to have the strongest bonds of all.

I am a little sad today about it. I had a bad day at work. It was long. It ended on a sour note. When things like this happen all I can ever imagine is how nice it would be to have arms to welcome me home. Man-arms. Not the arms of my girl roommates. The arms of a man that cares for me. The arms of a man that is not old enough to be my father or to have gone to high school with him. The arms of a man that has the same expiration date as I do.

There's a saying old,

Says that love is blind,

Still we're often told

"Seek and ye shall find,"

So I'm going to seek a certain lad, I've had in mind

A London Bloke; Suit Bespoke

I met this guy about a week ago at Fritz. My buddy Curtis was visiting and I did not want to pursue anything that night because it was a "hanging with my friends" ONLY night and so we just exchanged numbers. I didn't even mention it to anybody that I was with because I was honestly a little embarrassed of the guy. He is this big oaf of a man. Looks like he was a linebacker in school and at the right angle, he slightly resembles Sloth from the "Goonies". Now. Even though the goonies are good enough, Sloth was not.

Times are tough so of course I kept in touch with him throughout the weekend via text. We text while I was in P-town and we text throughout the week. Finally the following weekend arrived and he suggested that I meet him out for a drink and I accepted. First he agreed to meet me at Fritz, aka the scene of the original crime. When I had finally woken up from my disco nap, showered, and was less than ten away from the bar he text to say that he would be at Paradise instead.

I was having reservations about this pending catastrophe from the very beginning. I had gathered assumptions that he was nothing but that of a solid man-whore, and was by no means a man to be trusted. I envisioned myself fawning over him while he let other boys stare and proceeded to hit on them in the midst of my attention. I am nobody's biggest fan.

I don't follow. I lead. I don't fawn all over any man for that matter so to say the least, I was not so much thrilled as to embark upon this journey.

I decided to write the whole thing off as a venture into a new venue. I had never been to Paradise in the entire year and a half that I have lived here so I figured why not check the place out?

Long story: Short. He did just what I had expected. When I went to the bathroom I returned to find him talking to another guy. I sat right down beside of them. I introduced myself. I watched as the linebacker flirted and touched on this other guy and jealousy never rose up within my being. I thought he was dumb. The linebacker. Ironically enough I began to laugh out loud from everything that this new comer was saying. He was absolutely hilarious. His name is Stephen and he was in town (merely hours away from departing his plane and setting foot onto American soil) from England. Aside from sounding like a member of the Griffandor tribe at Hogwarts, he was actually quite funny! As soon as the linebacker excused himself to the bathroom I immediately turned to him and said, "This guy is a douche, but I think you are funny as hell, would you want to hang out sometime," He confirmed our great idea, with a genial nod, and for the rest of the night we looked out for one another, checking in at periodic moments throughout the evening.

When we attempted to exchange our numbers I realized that his was internationally long distance, so we also exchanged emails since we were both proud blackberry toters. I sent him an email in the AM, thinking that he would let our previously laid plans fall through, but he didn't. He showed up to brunch quite punctually and my friends and I enjoyed his company over french toast and a few bloodies.

While that was my exciting weekend I began my new job last week. So far two of the existing employees are gone. (For whatever reason, sans details). I was hoping to switch it up a bit when I knew that I was taking on the position but SHEESH! It takes a lot of energy out of you when you lose your team members, even if you haven't been privy to their team but for only one week. A lot of stuff is happening at work in the next few days and it won't be stopping there. In the next few weeks we have events almost back to back and I am already tired just thinking of them.

Selling suits is never something I had ever imagined I would be doing but for whatever reason it has turned out to be something to which I have become accustom to doing. I would even venture to say that I enjoy it. I knew when I took on this role originally that my goal would be to put my own spin on selling suits to men. I know that I have done just that. The scary tales from my childhood of going suit shopping have lead me to believe that shopping for a suit does not have to be so monotonous. It can actually be pretty fun.

And besides, every girls crazy 'bout a sharp dressed man...

Kanye IS the weakest link, Goodbye!

I wish they would vote Kanye off the island. I am getting so angry these days when I look at the entertainment industry and see that they are giving too much power to people that just don't matter. Kanye West gives us some great music. I was thinking about this today. His homecoming album is absolutely amazing. I was trying to write it off as a sell-out to hip hop, but if you listen to the entire thing you realize that the album overall is absolute hip-hop. It is really good.

I wrote a blog a while back on a previous website (i used to blog on myspace, but that was so 2000 & late), about Kanye. At the time he had said something stupid in a totally public arena. Little did we know, that Kanye wouldn't realize that you only get one shot at a chance like that, and when you use it more than once you look more pathetic than noteworthy.

Kanye West might be one of the greatest hip hop has ever seen. He has proven to be quite influential and somewhat revolutionary although he should make more attempts to keep his mouth wide shut. Kanye loses street cred (or more so shows his ass) when he speaks. He makes it obvious that he has no sense and lacks a common decency that one would hope from someone deemed a revolutionary.

Other people that make me angry because they are famous...Perez Hilton, Heidi Montag/Spencer Pratt, Adrina, Carson Kressley...the list goes on...i will add more when i think of them. Feel free to comment with your LEAST fav famous peeps.

Causing a Commotion...

Like I mentioned before, Big Curt McGuirt came to town this past weekend. The first two nights of his stay we were in the Mandarin Oriental Hotel in the Back Bay/Copley Sq. Area of Boston. His company paid for it so the hotel that otherwise would have been over $500 a night was FREE! Friends with bennies are the best!

On our THIRD and FINAL night we were in P-Town! How do I describe P-town to you?

Some day, you'll see my point of view...

I can't. It is like a small foreign country. Vacation spot. The most Gay-friendly place I have ever been. Peaceful. Cute. Quaint. Fun. Crazy. Quiet. Loud. It is everything. There are rainbow colored streamers hanging in the street. It is like a smaller scale Key West, with crazy local hippie type natives that don't care about anything. It ALMOST reminds me of Boone, North Carolina, except instead of calling it a dry county I would definitely say it is SOAKING WET. Drinks all over the place. People in a good mood. Ready to have a good time.

I've got the moves baby, you've got the motion...

We took the early ferry boat ride. Curtis also had the hookup on this also which would have otherwise been an $80 ticket! The boat ride to the cape was godawful! Everyone on our boat was nauseous and there were 6 foot swells (I was told). I was fine for about the first hour or so of the trip but towards the end I had to tell Mike to stop talking to me and let me concentrate on NOT throwing up all over the place. The lady to my left filled up most of a barf bag, and the guy on the other side of Mike filled TWO barf bags. Every ten minutes the boat staff would make a lap to distribute bags and for the majority of the journey I had to stare at this German guy making faces as if he was going to throw up on me and he was teetering back and forth which was also not making it any easier on my stomach.

When we finally reached land all was well. We made our way to our hotel "The Boat Slip". There is a huge deck and pool at the hotel. It was perfect. We didn't have to pay to lay out and this was the number one spot that everybody went to hang out during the day. We spent the entire day by the pool. We met this dude named Richard that we wound up running into through our time there and Mike and I actually had breakfast with him on Monday morning. Hopefully he will join our brunch group now that we are back in the city but we will see.

At around 3 o clock the deck begins to clear out. The chairs are put away and tables and extra bars are brought out onto the open space. They are preparing for the late afternoon Tea Dance. Please don't ask me what a Tea Dance is or why it is called that. I honestly don't know but it is just a reason to drink and party earlier on Sunday or in the afternoon from what I have gathered. It is just one more thing that the Gay people have in order to differentiate themselves from straight society (as if we needed any more!). Right as the Tea Dance was about to begin we wandered up the main street to Curtis' friends place that was also in P-town from Atlanta. Randy, Doug, and Kevin were staying at a house up the street and we went there to help them "get rid of" all the liquor that they had brought for the weekend. Mike and I put away a big portion of it, and I was a bit surprised seeing as how Mike doesn't usually drink that much. I was almost scared to think of what kind of night we were about to have because the drinks that Randy made for Mike were described as "You can't even taste the liquor" which you know is always a BIG RED FLAG!

Little did I know that I was planning on showing everybody later in the night why I typically don't drink that much.

The tea dance was dumb and the drinks were way overpriced. No one talked to one another (in typical New England fashion) and we left and went back to our hotel room to regroup.

First the boys decided we should check out the "A-house", which I decided to deem the "A-Hole"

NOBODY WAS THERE YET!

It Doesn't Matter if you win or lose...

We left and made our way up a giant hill to another bar that was a little bit more fun and a little bit more crowded but that is mainly because they had a wrap around porch and the night time air was quite refreshing to the skin. I sat on a stool having a conversation with Curtis on the porch when I saw this handsome Latin man walking forward. I stopped him and introduced myself. We spoke about where we were from, our interests, and such. Then I said that we should exchange numbers and meet sometime in Boston since he said he travels there often from NYC. He said he would be right back and I had assumed that meant "I AM NOT INTERESTED" but much to my surprise, he actually came RIGHT BACK! We exchanged numbers, laughed and smiled, and went on about our nights.

Later in the bar area I met Fred. At the time I could not hear very well. If you have met me you know that I am almost hard of hearing and yet I still listen to my music entirely too loud. You would also know that the more I drink, the less I tend to hear. So Fred attempted to tell me his name over and over again and when I went to put it in my phone I typed in "Free Big". I know some of you would gather sexual innuendo from this Freudian slip, but trust me, there is none. My phone is the Blackberry Storm and it is awful with the auto correct and lord knows what it will type in if I am not fully coherent.

When we left this no-name bar to my recollection, we walked ALL THE WAY DOWN THE BIG HUGE HILL. As I kept looking back I realized that we had lost the bulk of our group and I kept asking Curtis where everyone had gone. "They are right behind us," he told me. We made our way back to the "A-hole" and at this point it was BUMPIN'! It was very crowded inside and they were playing music from the 70's and 80's. No remixes. Just music. I heard "Causing a Commotion" which is one of my all-time favorite Madonna songs, then they went on to play "Hot Stuff" by Donna Summer and "How will I know" by Whitney Houston. I was in HEAVEN! I spent the better part of my night dancing to the music of decades gone by when "Free Big" began texting me to no end. He said that he wanted to hang out, and I figured that in 10 minutes I would be A.D.D. enough from the 80's hits and ready to bounce up out of Club A-Hole. We walked around town and he bought me a bottle of water. We made our way back to my hotel but I told him that my friends would be home shortly and not to expect anything other wise.

Much to my relief, Lil'Mikey came walking in right before anything was about to transpire and I attempted to ditch "Free Big" and hang out with Lil'Mikey. We invited him to go get pizza and he said that he was not hungry and would take a pass. Just to bring you up to speed, there is ONE and ONLY ONE place to get pizza in P-town after 1AM. So on our way to the place we saw "Free Big" walking with a slice of his own. "I thought you weren't hungry?" I asked and he laughed and said it actually sounded good. What a flake!

You won't admit it but you know it's true...

P-town was an absolute riot! The best part about it was hanging out with Curtis and Mike. The best of the best. After we got split up Mike told me the next morning that the guy that he was with (and I will leave the name out for his own benefit) had an "interesting" experience. The guy must have been pushing 60. He was a part of our original group in the beginning of the night. Mike let us know that he confessed that he was married, to a woman of 30 plus years. He had snuck away on a P-town getaway and this confirmed for me that being gay is just awful for some. The best part about this guy was that they had broken away from the group because Mike was hungry and wanted his pizza early. They sat at the shop and had a slice then the older guy excused himself to the "little boys room" to use the bathroom. When he returned they left and began walking down the street. Mike said that they were side by side and out of nowhere the guy turned to Mike and said, "Mike, I think I am going to piss myself,"

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" Mike asked in confusion. He was not just confused that a grown man was admitting to this but the bigger dilemma was that he had JUST BEEN to the "little boys room". Mike was dumbfounded by this confession, and as he turned to face the other guy he saw as the pee-stain began to form around his crotch, leading down the length of his leg and out through the bottom of his jeans. Mike watched, perplexed, as a puddle of urine began to form around the foot of this older gentleman. No words were exchanged and Mike began to start walking again, without knowing exactly what to do. He realized that the guy was still walking with him and turned and suggested, "Are you uncomfortable? Maybe you might want to go home and change?"

"Oh...yeah," the guy responded, "I guess you are right," and began to make his way home.

When Mike told me his story I could not stop laughing my ass off. There is no other person that something so crazy as this would have happened to, and I could just picture Mike's look of confusion as this situation began to escalate even further.

We joked about it all morning. I remembered my nephew calling my dad Pee-Paw, because he had to use the bathroom all the time, (even though he never had a problem making it to the toilet), and we deemed this older gentleman "Piss-Paw".

Since getting back to the daily grind I have been caught in the midst of a culture shock. On Tuesday I began at my new store in my new position and could not get the thoughts of that crazy night in P-town out of my little head. I longed to leave work and head back. It is a place that you will never want to leave.

I hope you find what you're looking for...make up your mind, and get in to the groove...

Too Shy, Shy

People here don't approach one another in social settings. No wonder they get nicknamed "Massholes". Although it is tough to meet people when you go out on the town I have been lucky enough to meet two INCREDIBLE buddies, Mike and Rich. I consider myself quite blessed to have actually met worthwhile friends in the year and a half that I have been here. These guys are friends for life, I can already tell. But I don't pride myself on breaking through the shell of the locals, since neither of the two are originally from the area.

Whether you are looking to date, or just looking for new friends, Boston proves to be a tough cookie to take a bite of.

My friend Curtis was in town this past weekend, visiting from Atlanta. We have been buddies for quite some time now as well. I'm sure he would agree to tell you that we never really imagined that we would have proven to be friends this long, but when it is all said and done, Curtis is just good people.

Hush, Hush...

While doing a bit of bar-hoppin' throughout the weekend Curtis proved my theories correct. Nobody talks to one another. While we were standing around in this one bar this guy leans over and begins a conversation with me. He is in a circle of friends yet never introduces us to the rest of the group, although I made it a point to introduce him to Curtis. Socially Retarded much? With Massholes like this one how on earth are we to find new folks of which to chat it up?

While we were talking to this new found friend (?) another guy walked past. He was handsome. Had beautiful eyes, and he glanced to the side and gave me a smirk. A wave of heat rushed over my body as I was taken by surprise from this one tiny little gesture. Flirtation just does not happen that easily in New England, and when it does, it is rarely from individuals that would be considered that of the Sexykind.

Eye to Eye...

He walked past me, then made his way to the door. He looked back and we caught eyes once again before he made his exit.

Well, Shit.

What an awful thing to do; walk past and give me hope and then swipe a rug out from underneath me. How awful is that?

Then his friend caught a glimpse of someone he knew. Much to my delight they doubled back, giving Sexykind another chance to give face to me one more time. We flirted from afar. Smiling, smirking, and looking away. This was dumb, and I longed for a place where grown men could act just so. What was with this casual flirtation and yet no delivery of action? Why is it that at straight bars guys have no problem hitting on girls that DON'T flirt with them yet when it is TWO GUYS you would imagine that primal urge to be more overpowering and yet suddenly we are just a couple of little school girls? This just can't be right.

I pushed the idea of him from my mind after they left the bar that we were at. I figured, "why bother?" when I will never see him again, and if I do run into him more than likely will find out truths such as what his boyfriend looks like or even worse, his wife!

As we finished up our beers we decided to make our way to "Dick's Last Resort" so to speak. In Boston there is this seedy bar called "The Eagle" where guys make their way at the end of a "defeated" night in hopes to claim one last trophy to take home. Curtis and I went because it was one of the only bars in town that weekend that was not charging us a cover and me and him are thrifty when it comes to a few nickels and dimes.

When we walked in I headed straight for the bar and Curtis made a b-line for the bathroom. Before I could get his attention to ask "What do you want to drink?" he was already to the door, and when my eyes lowered from calling out to my friend they had rendezvous with Sexykind's halfway. He was sitting on a stool across from the bar and gave me no time for recovery before beginning his smirks. I turned away to gather thoughts and deliver an action plan while collecting my beer at the bar. I gave my self a wink and a nudge and turned around and walked straight up to his arena. "Hey, how are you?" I asked, and the "enlightening" flirtations began. He introduced me to his friend and said that they had been drinking all day long. We smiled and winked and smirked throughout but at the least we were actually talking to one another. I gathered that we were enjoying one another's company so I suggested an exchange of numbers. Plus, his friend was being whiney and should have been wearing a shirt that said "Cockblock". I was not amused.

I am still finding out that in this city of grown men that I am, by far, a MAN among men. I have always been the one to approach and for some reason it bothers me so much. It makes me feel like I am trying to hard, especially when they don't call or txt back right away from my advances. It makes me mad when I go out on to a limb only to feel like I am swinging from a tree like some stupid-assed monkey.

You guys are just too shy, shy, hush, hush, eye to eye.

Shut Up and put your Money where your Mouth is...

It would be one thing if I was in Vegas, but I'm not. I am in Boston, MA. New England, EVEN!!! (that's for you, Kel, and SAYH-RAH!). I live in a place where Gay Marriage is LEGAL and yet for some reason, it seems like finding someone to settle down with, or date is even out of the question. There must be some secret hiding place for these settle-ready men. I see couples all the time walking around in the South End, shopping together in Copley Square, holding hands all over the place, just because they are so damn happy that New England just doesn't give a shit about their same sex relationship.

I'm at a really weird place in my life right now. I have joked with friends about "turning in my gay card" at the end of this year but the end of the year is coming fast, and it seems as though there is not much light at the end of this tunnel. So what's next? Women? I know you are laughing to but I mean c'mon? Is this what it boils down to?

I know in some countries, and often times right here in the U.S. There are perfectly good straight women that have decided that they give up (so to speak) and are ready to settle down. Since there are no straight men to fulfill these needs then they are looking to their closest gay Gal-pals to fill this void. What kind of relationship is this, you would think to ask?

A partnership of two adults that have committed to one another to love, care, and honor each other in the hopes of one day sharing that love with a child. Is this the definition of true love? Is this what marriage looks like after all? If after the years go by and you find yourself in a sex-less marriage is it so bad to skip all these years and move into the "Golden Years"?

I look at the gay couples I see. Recently I spotted two gay men with a young boy. By assumption I guessed that the boy was their son. I mean, at least one of their sons. Two "dads". One in plain clothes, unrecognizable to the untrained eye. And the other was in full Rainbow brigade garb donning a tight muscle tee baring arms and midriff, with low-cut (problem women's) jeans. He had that "I took too much Hydroxcut this summer" emaciated look about him. Typical gay. I thought about what it must be like to be this young boy looking up from his root beer. Oh, and that was another problem. These fags had this boy sitting with them at the bar. They had beers, he had a root beer. NO GOOD - Says Suzy Social Worker!

It was disheartening to think that a gay couple was not only given rights to be married but also rights to have children, and this is what they were doing to raise this child. What a nightmare! Was this the new frontier for gay child rearing? Teaching children all the motions of how to be a gay man?

I saw another gay father on a different night (yet, at the same restaurant come to think of it,) with his son. This father looked emaciated but not from too much Hydroxcut. He looked sick. And not with the common cold. It was weird to think of a kids perspective of growing up with a father that was living with HIV. Would you watch him fade away? Is it fair that you did not ask to become his caretaker in your adult life, but it would be what you were destined to become?

I am ready to find a man of my own. My timeline keeps ticking and I was hoping for us to have this relationship gig down pat before moving on to childhood. Yet, IN MY HEAD, I had always thought of starting the adoption process when I was 30. I heard it took a few years and that is the time frame I had come up with. Who knew that I would be on the verge of turning 28 and not have accomplished anything that I had hoped for, even though in retrospect I never knew what all I had envisioned being accomplished at this point in my life.

It is funny to think of how time flies. Where on earth did the time go?

Well, that's what you get for waking up in Vegas