Dark Horse

So @ the risk of speaking too soon about something I shouldn’t even mention, there’s a dark horse in the background. Sort of.

Zack works where I do, but in another department; he’s 24, he’s a full-time student, and he’s really nice. He also likes me like that. B/c I’m slow on the uptake, it was over a month or so before I realized that he was flirting with me during those walks to the train afterwork and that the offers for dinner were date-oriented. He’s one of those people who make actual concrete plans like, “Are you off Tuesday? Let’s have dinner, what time shoudl I call you?” This is insane to a noncomittal nonplanner like myself. I haven’t taken him up on anything yet but it’s tempting to play back w/ him, especially after he stopped in on his day off the other day and I caught a glimpse of him on REAL non-uniform clothes — DAMN, he’s a hottie. But I’m playing it cool, so motherfucking cool that it’s just maddening, b/c I… I don’t know yet. He’s sweet in a playful way that doesn’t crowd me and It’s really fun when somebody pays extra attention to you like that, sort of lifts the fog on post-breakup life. Some. I’m keeping things in perspective, or trying to, cuz the truth is I’m not really interested in dating anyone right now. I still sometimes catch myself longing for somebody else. And even though I don’t want it to be true, Zack — charming as he is, even with his lucious lips, golden brown eyes, that sexy latin accent, and a sick body on him that rocks the party — isn’t really my type. Call me a bland traditionalist, but I like them golden, blond, blue-eyed, buff, and born to to blend in on the WB. It’s just what does me in but ugh, I have to careful here. Firstoff, he’s one of the only people @ work that I really enjoy talking to (not that I’m hating the others, they just bore me) and I’d hate to mess that up… cuz come hookup or highwater my ass ain’t going back to the Land of Unemployment. Also, a bitter ex-hookup from way back in the day recently went OFF on me out of nowhere; we’re talking creepy “Why don’t you like me?!”, boiling-my-rabbit, vengeful hatemail-type shit, and even though I’ll be damned to wear the blame for his delusions, it reminded me that I gotta be careful about giving a really nice guy the total wrong idea. Or letting somebody get attatched and later accuse me of being playing head games (I wasn’t into getting close so now it’s a GAME I’m playing! Evidently, the “game” we were playing was me not being interested in the mutherfucker). But who knows? If my last relationship showed me anything, it’s that love intensifies even when you’re not fully sold that it will. It’s not always instant sparks and butterflies in your gut, like I thought. The inner progressiveness of love and affection between two people swells and swells and, if you’re lucky, bursts into something beautiful and real. You can’t wish for it or see it coming.

What the fuck am I talking about here? I’m not even making out with anybody up in here, much less making out with any soul connections. Anyway, it’s way too faint a nothing for me to even go into this. I just think Zack’s not gonna be easy to dissuade, he’s working the charm and already kicking his game up a notch. Yesterday he hands me a stack of pictures from his last trip to the Southern Islands; he was half-nekked in most of them… save for a pair of really cute, really filled out running shorts. Whoa. A dark horse, indeed, ya’ll.

In other news, I’m sick of ppl on the subway interupting my precious me-time to ask a zillion questions about my iPod nano. Dude, see the headphones in my ears? It means I don’t wanna talk to anyone. See the fact that the headphones are white? It means I OVERPAID to ensure that I don’t have to talk to anyone. Leave me alone. And no, you can’t touch it. But I know you wanna.

UPDATED: Did everyone see the season premiere of LOST? What the hell?! Walt’s taking backwards, Jack had Party of Five hair again, and I can’t stop singing “Make Your Own Kind of Music”. Any show that can squeeze in some Mama Cass is a winner in my book. Big bottom girls you make the world go rockin’ round.

Ba De Yah

September 21st, 2005 / 3 comments »

Today is the last day of summer. Fall is upon us and I can’t fucking wait for autumn evenings on the Upper West Side, network fall TV lineups, and the chance to start dressing in layers. Been working out some inner-kinks on this here blogsite, so be on the lookout for older entries like that one suddenly popping up where hadn’t been before. Other little quirks are on the horizon, too. Bear with me.

Must pause right here to directly shoutout Marshall, a self-proclaimed faithful reader of this journal. This sweet fool caught my brief mention of a new interest in one of Beethoven’s sonatas and actually went to Amazon.com, reached into his wallet, and sent me this to broaden my horizons. It arrived to me @ work right in the middle of a really bad shift, totally made my day and reminded me to come blog a thank-you. Thanks, Marshall! I tend to be one of those punks who stays away, all skeptical, from all the much-hyped and praised works of historic icons like Beethoven (I don’t believe Shakespeare really wrote all those plays, I think Anne Frank’s diary is a hoax, and Jackson Pollack just made dribble-splatters on canvas. ahem.) but I look forward to getting onboard with this.

Also? thanks to the omnipotence of Friendster (fuck MySpace), he who was loved and lost has now been found. Just further proof that the Internet is going to kill us all. I wonder if he is gonna be God’s regular gay Christmas gift to me every year. It’s a gift that keeps on giving.

Serious as cancer when I say rythym is a dancer, and also when I ask if you remember the 21st night of September? Shut up, I said I was gonna do it. It’s Earth Wind & Fire, dudes! This shit is SACRED! I wait 364 days a year EVERY YEAR to live this fucking song and the world will just have to tolerate me today.

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Invasion of the Rednecks

September 18th, 2005 / 2 comments »

Wedding. Convention. Family Renunion. I don’t know what the fuck brought them, but they were all here @ my hotel over the weekend. Redneck bubbas in full force, ya’ll. Actual grown men stood in front of me boasting dumbass remarks and comments so offensive and appalling (“Them fool cajuns down there in N’awlins are better off now”) that I just couldn’t believe it. Though I fled my own Texas confines and I like to clown on folks who live in the outer-boroughs, I don’t consider myself one who drinks of the Southern Haterade; I generally enjoy when the clientel of my hotel is mixed and interesting, but these low class non-tipping motherfuckers (and their wives) just made my weekend misrable. So, b/c it’s been therapeutic for me in the past, I have a few things I’d like to say to them.

Dear Rednecks,
When you tell me your visiting from down south and I offer to make conversation by saying, “Oh, I’m from Texas” you are supposed to say, “Oh, that’s nice.” You’re not supposed to tell me that you hate Texas. All “steers & queers” jokes are also considered in poor taste, you dumb bitch.
Of course a slice of pizza is cheaper back home in Alabama. So is the rent. So are the women. You all consider The Olive Garden fine dining, so what do you want me to say? I’m sorry our pizza is so damn good.
I don’t want to hear your racist sensefolk opinions on the destruction of Hurricane Katrina. I don’t even want to hear the opinions on it from PROPERLY informed people. Youve got the right to speak as freely as you want, but don’t stand here @ my desk and talk out your ass and keep expecting me to agree. Please shut the fuck up.
Yes, Broadway shows really are that expensive. $200 is a LOT of money to spend on something you’re only gonna see one time, I agree. But this is Manhattan, and culture that doesn’t involve tractor-pullin’ or eating pies costs money.
You annoyed me. I hid under my desk everytime I saw you step out of the elevator. Please don’t come back, ya’ll. Y’hear?

Sincerely,
The Guy Who Made Your Every Wish Happen
…But Whom You Neglected to Tip

It’s offputting social encounters like these that sort of reawaken me to the fact that I live in a cosmo-bubble on this island, and I remember that not everyone in this country is on the same page. Most of us aren’t even in the same book; some of us can’t fucking read. It wasn’t so much that the people were cheap, it was their blatant lack of awareness that bothered me. It’s not like they said ignorant things b/c they didn’t care how they came off, I really think they honestly have no clue that it’s wrong to even THINK racist things like that, much less state them. And I feel dumb for thinking times are changing and that things are getting better everywhere. Hopefully, in addition to the places down South where people and attitudes are exactly as redneck as they were decades ago, there are some pockets of progress, where minds are open and maybe some sense is kicking in.

UPDATED TO ADD:

Tizzexas
This is a hilariously fitting performance peice by slampoet Andy Buck, whose recent blog entry nailed everything I’ve been searching for the words to say.

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“It’s Not Okay!”

September 13th, 2005 / 1 comment »

The four main leads on FX’s new show Starved all battle eating disorders and attend a shame-based, not-so-supportive group called Belttighteners, where anorexics, bulimics, and obsessive-overaters all gather together and the mission statement is IT’S NOT OKAY. The meetings are run by a stone-faced, cold-hearted group leader who, out of genuine concern for helping attendees get better, humiliates them with threats, insults, and jolts of electroshock aversion therapy.

Binge

Purge

Repeat

What’s not to love? If you don’t get on board the love train, it’s not okay, and the biggest favor you could do for me would be to die so that space you take up in this world could be replaced by someone who really wants to enjoy the show.

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Where the Boys Are

September 13th, 2005 / 4 comments »

Spriteboy Speaks

… Again

Of all the days not to have my camera with me. Dammit.
And this one? probably my gayest post ever.

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Creatures of Flight

September 11th, 2005 / 1 comment »

I’m always especially proud to be here in New York on this day. I was on w57th Street when it happened 4yrs ago, I was really sick with a fever and walked home, it took me hours and hours. My friend Jess kept calling my voicemail and leaving me updates on different ways to get home. I went to Barnes & Noble, where my friend M was working and going insane b/c he hadn’t heard from his wife yet. To this day, M & Jess are two of the people I consider closest to me, they have been there when things have been really scary, and I just feel like they can get me through things. And Barnes & Noble still makes me feel safe.

I watched this 9/11 special on the Discovery Channel the other night: BIG MISTAKE. I sobbed for about a half hour and finally just had to shut it off. I wasn’t one of those emotionally scarred people after the attack — I was way uptown @ a safe distance, thankfully. (By the way, did anyone see that episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm where Larry hates on the guy whose son died on 9/11 but in a total car accident completely unrelated to the WTC attack? and the guy tries to cash in on WTC sympathy from people. It fucking cracks me up. I love that he’s picking on that.) Anyway, I remember the HR woman from work calling me each day for about a week, just letting me know the office would be closed and seeing if I was okay. I remember lots of us huddled around gated store windows of closed electronic shops along Broadway that day, watching the TV’s and trying to figure out what was happening. This one guy driving a flatbed truck unloaded all his lumber onto a West 79th Street sidewalk and drove people uptown in droves. In the weeks to come, when the death count was being tolled and debris was done settling, I remember the way people bound together and got one another through this. Strangers looked each other in the eye, shared newspapers on the train, apartment neighbors looked in on each other. People kept going to work, they kept taking the subways, they kept watching Saturday Night Live, they kept going to dinner and shows. Even under confusion and terrorist attack, New Yorkers held it together. They — we — still do. You can’t beat the people of this city, we’re a tough breed.

They’re gonna let the Tribute in Light glow tonight. I can’t wait to see it. I’ll actually be at the Floating Lanterns Ceremony tonight @ Pier 40, so it’ll be a nice view from there. Right on the Hudson. Maybe I’ll walk home again.

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