i think

that i am an attractive person.

some would say i am quite handsome.

i don't understand.

why the only guys.

that i seem.

to attract. 

are not.  

so attractive.

great personalities...

they don't seem to make up for the fact.  that I can't help but feel as though i keep settling for less.  

taking chances on people i should pass up.

only to be disappointed.

in the fact.

that there are things that i cannot control.

attraction.

being one of these elements.

its like the movie preview the other night.

why can't it just be THAT easy?

Revenge of the 'mos

I can't help but feel as though the only guys that seem to hit on me that are my age have a striking resemblance to that of Booger, from Revenge of the Nerds.  They actually, when I think hard about it, all manage to look like the ENTIRE cast of Nerds.  

It is sad too.  I am quite attractive.  Even if the only people who tell me so are my mother and the desperate and lonely (single) girls I have decided to surround myself with.  

I think I am going to give up.  You know.  Not just give up on life, or trying to seek happiness.  But Give up.  The way they say that is when you are supposed to actually find somebody.  When you are not looking.

I was at the movies the other night and a preview for a new romantic comedy came on.  Boy sees girl.  Girl smiles back at boy.  Instant Love connection.

My friend Steve leaned over and whispered "wouldn't it be nice if it was just that simple?" I said "Yeah, That movie SUCKS".  

It was true.  I feel like there was a time when flirting and dating WAS that simple.  My early twenties.  It is scary to think that I have finally reached the age to which all of my adolescent years will now be referred to in sections of mistakes and mishaps instead of just as one giant blur.

I did not think that I would find him in Charlotte, North Carolina.  I really didn't ever think it would happen there.  I know I have only been here in Boston for a year but I just want dates to happen.  I don't want to get sucked into a "settle slump" where I go on dates with guys that I had originally turned down before, just for the sake of being lonely (and cold).  I tried to do this one time and titled it "Giving people a chance".  My best friend, Adair said that I was full of shit and that all that meant was "Lowering my Standards".  She was right.  I didn't do it then.  I don't feel like doing it now.

It was Madonna that once said "Don't Go for Second Best, baby, Put your Love to the Test!"

When you try to abide by a standard such as this one, it is best to remember, especially in the winter, that "satin sheets are very romantic, what happens when you're not in bed!"

Calling in Gay to Work

I think it is a dumb idea.  Don't get me wrong.  If it was pulled off accurately it would definitely wake up the world to how "necessary" gay people are to the business world.  BUT if we took a step back we would have to realize that it would not be proving any points about Prop 8.  This would only show the world how many gay people are out there making things happen.  It would be as if we were holding our work environments hostage in order to bring about change.  

This is one of the many ways in which gay people just don't see the bigger picture.  I can think of a plethora of things on the gay to do list that would need to happen before igniting a silent protest such as this.  

Doesn't the world already know that gay people secretly run it?  We dictate the majority of the economic flow, current fashion trends, and where the trendy neighborhoods will be.  What more is there?  

I don't see the correlation between not showing up for work and legalizing gay marriage.  We might as well rally together in DC and charge the white house like a bunch of creatures from Narnia, because that is basically how we are acting.  We are AGAIN fulfilling the role that WE have created in the world of our people being a fantastical bunch of (no pun intended) fairies.  We make quick and irrational decisions (much like our spending habits that fuel the economy) and in turn leave long lasting consequences in the wake of our hasty actions.  

In case you didn't know.  Apparently the gays of the world have secretly whispered among each other that they should call out of work today.  This would be in order to show THE WORLD how important gay people are on a day to day basis.  This "movement" would be in order to bring about change to the ongoing Prop 8 debacle.  

For me.  And you can hate if you want to.  I don't care about Prop 8.  A yes or no vote on ONE LAW does not take away from the fact that gay people can't manage to act right.  

If we had it right.  We would get what we want.  We would have a platform to argue on and we would prove our point in comparison to heterosexual marriage.  But since I don't know any gay couples that are bound by laws or personal agreements and that HONOR those vows whether they are open about it or not, then I don't see how we can say that we want to be granted ADDITIONAL rights.  

I go on these websites looking for someone to go on a date with.  I go on websites because when I go out in public I clam up and can't flirt and look around at all the handsome men and begin to judge myself.  Although we are so materialistic in person, as it turns out we are more so judgmental online.  With the click of a button we can elude a come on.  We can ignore what is right in front of us and move on to the next guy with the six pack abs.  The few guys that do email me only have pictures that showcase their private parts and I have to be honest...I don't want to go on a date with your hairy asshole.  Its disgusting.  Yet one of the many ways in which gay people need to seek out to improve their so called "quality of life" or what have you, and start acting right.  If we start from the ground up one day we will reach a point at which time it will be very appropriate that we all band together to call out of work for the day as one big giant F-U to the straighties of the world.

With the way the economy is right now.  This idea is actually awful.  It will actually affect us more negatively than it will the rest of the world, and more than likely some of us will wind up unemployed because of it.  One more notch in the belt loop that is of our irrational decision making skills.

But for now.  Let's just agree to disagree, and get rid of the online pictures of your hairy butt.

The Shit Show

I have had a pretty amazing birthday this year.  I have barely been here for an entire year and I managed to fill up almost a weeks worth of birthday fun in a matter of only a few days.  

The actual day of birth was this past Wednesday but I had to work.  As I mentioned before Steve took me out that night and acted like a shit about it.  Thursday night I went to dinner with my buddy Rich.  This marks our fourth time hanging out together.  We have not spent that much time together because Rich dated Steve.  That's how we met.  Steve said he would not care if we hung out.  Steve lied.  

So it is not the most comfortable or convenient, rather, for Rich and myself to build upon our budding friendship.  It is unfortunate as well because Rich and I share many of the same views when it comes to dating and gay culture.  Views to which Steve and I agree to disagree.

Rich took me to an amazing restaurant in Harvard Square.  He had planned on having our friend Mike meet us over there, but Mike had a VERY exhausting a busy week.  He gave me a card that he and Mike had gotten and signed for me.  It was very nice.  Dinner was nice too.  It was honestly a very expensive meal for someone that I have only known a short while, but I hope it is any indication of the future long-lasting and genuine friendship that Rich and I will continue to grow.  

Saturday.  Last Night.  The Shit show began.

I have never heard that phrase until I moved up here but I love it.  It is also the only phrase that could describe the insane events that took place last night.  

Kelly and I began the night.  We started with a drink at Fritz, where they make them cheap, but Strong.  We met the three gay dudes at the table beside us and I recognized one from speaking to one another online but did not mention it to him.  As we were leaving I saw the ONLY attractive guy on my way out so I went to introduce myself.  He said he was in town for a few weeks.  I said we should hang out.  Pause.  Only if you want to, I added.  He said No.  SHOT DOWN.  I thought to myself.  But then asked if he was there with his partner to which he said "No, My wife."  

What are you doing here?  Do you know what kind of bar this is?  Yes he said he had been there before.  He said that he was there for a glass of wine.  

Now folks.  I can tell you this much.  Fritz.  Is not an establishment best known for their wine selection.  I rolled my eyes.  Turned to wink at him as I left, and then shouted out what I would do with him if given the chance.  This is a public site.  So I will save you from the gratuity of my lewd behavior.  We walked to Club Cafe where we met up with Darren and Chris from work.  We danced to Single Ladies, laughed at people that smelled like Fish cakes, then left and went to Roxy.  

Steve.  Who I spoke with before 8 and said he would be ready by 9 showed up to Club Cafe at 1130pm.  On the eve of my birthday outing.  I had already expressed to him during the week that he needed to make up for his weekly actions and redeem himself this weekend but I guess he did NOT get the memo.  

At first I did not speak to him, until I came up later and whispered to him that he was a Shit.

On the way to Roxy I cussed him out.  Pouted.  and Tried to hit him in his face.  

Kelly stood between.

We walked in and stood in line and I spent the entire time yelling and cussing at Steve.  Darren and Chris took turns alternating which sides to take as Darren stood with Steve, and I stood with Chris.  When we got inside every one went to check coats and I stood there alone with Steve.  I calmed myself and cooly told him.  

"You know.  I don't mean to be dramatic.  But I guess that when I think about it, I am the one to blame because I guess that I had higher expectations for how this week would have gone than compared to what really happened.  I also guess that all I can do is acknowledge that you are one of the most selfish people I have ever met in my life and that if I want to remain friends with you I will just have to accept it and move on"

This made things take a different turn.  Steve still acted like a weirdo.

We had too many drinks.  Danced to every single song.  Got lost from each other.  Found one another.  Then we headed home.  In the car Chris had to ask me for directions and I kept telling him "GO STRAIGHT, TURN GAY!"  He drove around in circles before figuring out where to go.  It felt good to hang out with Darren and Chris because they act, now, how I acted when I was their age.  It is a great way to live vicariously through them without having the future filled with regret of acting like a whore.

Brunch was amazing.  Stella's.  My favorite.  I got the french toast, which will now be referred to as "the best french toast I have ever had in my entire life".  We had a table of 10.  I felt very special.  They toasted to my birthday.  I gave a toast to them.  I admitted that I felt blessed and lucky to have found such wonderful and genuine people in such a short amount of time and that I looked very forward to sitting at a table with them again this time next year and toasting all over again.

It was a wonderful birthday.  It looks as though the late 20's are going to Rock.

And at least now I have a few pairs of jeans that fit.

The Quicker Picker Upper

Bounti-ful.  Bountiful is what I wish I was when it came to having a handful of proper pickup lines.  If you know me well enough, you will know that I am not the type of guy that exudes confidence when there is live bait in my presence.  Meaning.  If I truly like a guy.  then I have the HARDEST time trying to flirt of pick him up. 

In my head.  When I am in that moment.  I keep telling myself over and over things like "flirt with him more"  "Smile more"  "make better eye contact" "compliment him".  I can't help it.  It is the only things that go through my head.  If I do not repeat these lines over and over again then I wind up insulting him or making him think I am full of myself because I SOUND too confident, even though I could admit to him aloud that I am SO INSECURE!

TWO EXAMPLES

One.  When my parents came to visit they decided to help me get my vacuum cleaner fixed.  Mostly because I was too lazy and cheap and so much that I did not bother taking it to the Oreck Store that I pass EVERY SINGLE DAY on my way to work.  When we walked into the store my mouth almost dropped.  There was this beefy muscled arabic looking guy working there.  Wearing a polo that was not tight, but just tight enough, if you know what i mean.  The kind that looked as though his biceps were exploding out of it, but you couldn't tell if it was fat or muscle until he moved around in it and you realized that it.  Was clearly.  Muscle.  WHEW!

So he smiled REALLY big as I walked in.  It threw me.  He fixed that vacuum cleaner quickly.  Charged my dad for the repair and we were on our way.  

I get home.  It works once.  Then broken again.  

I take it back.  He wasn't there.  I leave it.  Two weeks go by, no phone call so I walked in this morning to check on it.  He was there.

He smiled really big at me as I walked in and I walked in and said hello and began to explain why I was there, but paused and said "Do you remember me?"

"Yes, of course I remember you"  He said, and smiled from ear to ear.  

I was almost so thrown off by this that I couldn't even bother trying to flirt.  That is how shocking it was that this beefy arab dude was flirting with me, if that was even it.  

So I tell him no phone call and he goes to check on it.  He finds my vacuum with no notes or anything and says that this is why he could not fix it b/c he did not know what was wrong.  He says to wait and that he will fix it.  In the store it is only me, him and one other dude.  The other dude looks as if he is in the process of packing his car to leave, and I begin to pray that he is.  What a perfect situation this will be when this little asshole leaves us alone in the store.  

He leaves.  The Arab comes out.  Vacuum fixed.  He tells me.  He then goes on to say that he is supposed to charge but will not charge me.  He smiles more.  I shake his hand and thank him 3 times in three different ways to say it.  I pause slightly.  But realize I have nothing else to say and thanks and a fourth handshake would just be odd at this point.  I turn to leave and he says "You can test it out here first if you want"  So I oblige.  

I am careful as I make my way to the plug in the wall.  I know that on this particular morning I am wearing sexy underwear and low rise jeans and that if there is any Bend - and - Snap action, a waistband underoo shot is on the horizon.  I take my type to plug it in, and use my peripheral on the way up to see if he is checking.  He is not.  It is weird.  I can't tell if he is being nervous, or a gentleman.  Or if, in fact I am making this all up in my head.  I thank him again.  I am on the verge of saying "how can I pay you back?"  But sanity prohibits me from doing so.  

I leave.  Big smiles exhanged.  I had tried to have a conversation with him, but a conversation does not exist that is 5 minutes long and leads to "Boys or girls?"

I leave toying with the idea of calling him and thanking him over the phone and admitting that I feel bad, which would hopefully give him the chance to say "if you feel bad then but me a drink".  Looking back I could have acted like I had not JUST gone to Starbucks and offered to get him a coffee or something.  

Two.  This customer came in one night looking for a suit.  It was an average beginning.  you could tell that he was repulsed by salespeople.  I weaseled my way in.  Admitted to him that our prices were higher than Macy's but then admitted that we match and are never undersold.  I told him about the competitive sales that we had going on and he left very happy.  He came back later and bought the suit we had looked at.  Then he came back for the alterations later.  He seemed more comfortable with me this time (did I mention that he had a stutter?)  The first time he had been with his father.  This time he was on his own and seemed more comfortable in his own skin.  

This is why it is harder being gay.  Unless I meet whores and pig-daddies out at gay clubs, bars, and bathrooms, then I partake in a mindboggling guessing game of who's outta da closet.

I am rarely ever a winner.

But I thank myself for playing.

Nonetheless he is more comfortable.  I find his stutter increasingly more attractive.  If you talk to close friends of mine the would admit to you that I have made it my life's work to find people that are uncomfortable in this world, and to put them at ease.  I have made a career out of calming people down, as well as turning bad days into good.  So the fact that he has a stutter, which becomes his verbal rating scale of his comfort level when working with me, definitely has begun to turn me on.  He stutters less and less the more we interact.  In person.  on the phone.  I love it.

He came in to pick up his finished suit.  He tried it on.  I tried to act professional as I tugged at the waist to "make sure" that it fit appropriately.  Then we figured out that he needed a new belt.  When he tried it on he put it around his stomach and I made him put it through the real belt loops.  ((For the record - you can never tell unless you do)).  When he lifted his shirt I saw his "happy trail" and as low as his 2 sizes too big pants were hanging it appeared to be closer to his "treasure trail" instead.  I joked with him about how big his pants were.  Made him get new ones.  He laughed.  I loved his laugh.  I can't stop thinking about him.  This would be the kind of guy I would want to go on a date with.  If we were in high school together I feel like he would wear those coke-bottle glasses with the tape in the middle, and I would swoon.

I tried to have a conversation with him (again, I am a soc-tard when it comes to this).  I talked about wear he lives ((which is the up and coming gay area of town)) I mentioned that my friend lived there and made me go to a sports bar ((giving an opportunity to him, which he took)) and he mentioned that he wouldn't be going to a sports bar.  

Okay, Okay, I thought to myself, now we are getting somewhere. 

I didn't want this banter to end so I sold him something else that he would have to come back and get later.  This would give me another visit at a later date, and enable me to call him again as a reminder.  During our earlier conversations I had mentioned to him that I had thought of moving to the area that he was living in cause of friends there, so as he left I casually mentioned, "Yeah, and maybe if I move over that way I will see you around".

I feel like I was beating it into his head.  My lack of subtly was deliberate.  But I am not quite sure he took the bait.  It is almost harder to tell up here in the New England area if gay or straight.  All these smarty pant nerd boys from MIT and Harvard are not making the debate any easier.

No Excuses...

I feel like Miranda.  From Sex and the City.  I always do.  In most ways I aspire to be more like her.  I think she is amazing.

But in particular.  Tonight.  I feel like her because I fit into my SKINNY JEANS!!!  Just like when Miranda fit into her Skinny "No Excuses" Jeans.  I really have a pair of jeans that I have kept for a few months now.  Actually.  A full year now.  A year ago I took them from my floor.  I folded them up and put them in a stack at the top of my closet.  I put them in a place where I could easily take them and try them on periodically to see if they fit again.  And tonight.  They did.  I mean.  I MADE them fit.  But I got them buttoned all the way and without feeling like I was on the verge of having a hernia.  I took my Evian Spray in a Can and Sprayed them down so that they could stretch out better.  Girls, you should try it.  It really helped.  And it helped so much that I only ripped them a little.  You know, in the thigh area, where you would use a sanitary wipe if you had one.  

But it felt really good to button them.  This summer I could not button them all the way.  and Tonight I could definately do that.  Sans Evian.  

So I put on my jeans.  

But this came after.

It came after working a full night shift at work.  After impressing customer after customer and wowing them with my know-how.  It came after running around the store with my head cut nearly off and trying my hardest to gobble up everything that I could.  I did a good job.  

As I walked out of the store, keep in mind I walked out early.  I walked out and left my employee who encouraged me to leave on my birthday.  I walked out with the bottle of wine that my OTHER employee had brought to me.  I walked out and made my store manager feel bad for not wishing me happy birthday earlier.  I walked out knowing that I had made this the first birthday that I ever felt truly special.  I felt so, because If I had been in Charlotte, the city that I was born in, I would know that the people wishing me happy birthday HAD to.  I feel like this has been a contributor to why I have never enjoyed a birthday in the past.  

But doesn't everybody hate their birthday?  It is like a holiday that everybody else wants to celebrate except you.  Like New Years or Halloween.  A holiday where if you don't act excited you are made to look like an asshole.  Except the difference is that if you choose to stay home on this holiday, you look depressed or weird.  Its a holiday that you cannot escape.

A holiday in which you depend solely on your friends to make sure that you don't regret.  Your friends are supposed to take you out, buy you a drink and make sure you don't remember how you act the next day.  

Instead my friend Steve, who I personally invited to my private shopping event at my store met me outside when I LEFT EARLY, and said "I'm really tired, I'll go out if you convince me"

Are you kidding me with this?

I have had total strangers treat me better than this.  I get home and I call him.  When he answers he sounds like shit and asks again "Do you REALLY want to go out?  I'm tired".  

Yes Steve.  Yes I really want to go out.  You have bitched and whined at me all week asking if we are going out to Latino Night at Venu this week after you come to my private shopping event and I have gotten it in my mind that it is what we are doing.  Even though I hate to go out during the week.  Even though I knew that I would not get out of work until nearly 11:30PM.  But I had planned it this way.  I had worked my December schedule so that I was off on Thursday and not going in until 2Pm on Friday.  

When I hung up the phone I was livid.  I hate this word.  Livid.  But it is the only word that describes the anger I felt towards Steve when I hung up.  I got in the shower.  Afterwards I paced my room looking for jeans that would not make me feel like the fattest piece of shit on the planet.  

When I didn't find those I became more angry.  I called him and let him have it.

I told him that it puzzled me that I have known him since I moved here.   I have known him for a year.  I felt like I had to convince him to celebrate my birthday.  I explained to him AGAIN that It was the first birthday that I have ever been away from my family.  I explained to him AGAIN that I was just a LITTLE confused at how a person that I have befriended named Rich, that he used to date, who I have only hung out with on THREE occasions has been more thoughtful and caring concerning my birthday and holidays that Steve has been after knowing him all year.  I told him that despite any jealousy that he might have regarding my hanging out with Rich that there were no feelings of that sort on my end towards him, and that all joking aside the only reason I would ever bring up to Steve that Rich was so thoughtful was not at all to make him jealous that I was talking to Rich but more so to make him feel guilty for how little he has acknowledged my situation.

Steve was silent.

Are you still awake? I asked him.

He said yes, and that he did not have anything to say back to it.

I asked if he liked to celebrate his own birthday, because I know that when it came he did not want to make an ordeal of it.  He said no.  

I told him that I have hated celebrating my birthday for as long as I can remember, and that the only person who has made me not want to celebrate it was Steve.  Everyone else that is a part of my life here, and every single person that I have contact with from home has made me feel more special on this day than I have ever felt before.  Mostly thanks to Facebook, but hey, I will celebrate the wins.

We went out.  We squashed the problem.  We are good to go cause I put him in his place. 

I appreciate all the people in my life dearly.  All of those who have made me feel like these 27 years have been lived by no means in vain.

I love you all dearly.  And because of this, for my future, I will make No Excuses...

Sleep in Heavenly Peace

Silent night.  I'm not alone.  My roommate is in her own room.  Nonetheless, it is a lonely time of year.  I have spent this year getting to know new people.  I have invested time into them.  Hard time to make them all worth while.  The scary thought is that the effort has been in vain.  You can only hope that you will get back what you put in to these relationships.  

I think that is why I was so satisfied in Charlotte.  I got back what I had given.  I had put in a lot.  It had taken a very long time.  So it is scary to be at a point in life where you look around and realize all the hard work it took before.  You also realize how easy it has been.  Well, not so much easy, but at the least, in a very short amount of time.  

I can't help but feel cared for here in Boston.  My friend Steve calls me pretty much every day.  My buddy Rich called me on Thanksgiving from New York, to wish me well and mentioned my birthday (without my reminding him).  He said that him and our friend Mike would like to take me out to dinner.  Johanna has offered to organize (by way of making reservations) brunch at my favorite fancy restaurant in the South End, Stella's.  I have an employee that put in their notice and brought me 4 Cannoli because she heard me mention my PASSION for them.  Another brings me leftovers to try and help me save money, and he also gave me one of his old suits that doesn't fit him anymore.   In less than a year I feel engrossed in a mass of people who care dearly for me.  I feel loved.  

It feels good to have left Charlotte in a state of almost uncertainty and have now arrived more sure of myself than I had ever imagined I would be before.  

I know that money problems are smoothing out as we speak.  I know that eventually the economy will turn.  When it happens, I will be that much more satisfied.  

Tonight I began watching "The Family Stone".  When I first saw the movie, it became an instant classic in my mind.  I had no idea that it would be such a heart-shaking movie.  It dealt with a mother whose Breast Cancer had returned.  It makes me thankful that my mother is a survivor.  It makes me cry to think what life would be like without her.  There is another scene in which an outsider from the family (aka Sarah Jessica Parker future daughter-in-law to be) makes a comment about gay people.  The comment is slightly offensive, and she keeps digging the ditch deeper trying to pull herself out of it but makes it worse.  Craig T. Nelson plays the perfect role of the father that slams his fist on the table and demands, "THATS ENOUGH!".  The movie is about a less than ordinary family that knows good and well that they all have problems.  The tie that binds is that they are family.  They accept each other no matter what their differences are.  This scene in which Craig T. Nelson (aka COACH) takes charge is followed up by the mother (Diane Keaton another A+ choice for the role) aggressively and passionately tells her gay son, "HEY!  You are MORE NORMAL than any asshole at this table!"

Aside from my sexual orientation, I have done a great many things that I can think of in which my family could have chosen to abandon me.  To disown me even.  It makes me think of the woman that I met on Thanksgiving day whose family disowned her for her weight.  She has problems.  We all do.  Her family chose to abandon her instead of holding her up and supporting her in order to help her overcome her problems.  Not even to help her, but they are not even there for her to say "I love you" even IF they disagree with every single choice she has ever made.  And I just think.  Those choices are JUST to put food in her mouth.  Once we got her mind off of things it was time for dessert.  I asked which dessert she wanted, and she laughed and said "I'll have one of everything".  I felt like saying "thats the spirit!".  But I knew that it was not a habit that should be encouraged. 

It makes me so thankful to be a part of a family that accepts me.  and.  Loves me.

These are the important things.  That make a family, just that.  A Family.

Love.

Silent Nights and Holy Nights...