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Golden Ticket
Thursday, September 1, 2005
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Suddenly September. Every blog entry for the next three weeks will be nothing but fluff/filler till I get to reference Earth Wind & Fire and be relevant.
So Next Magazine (where my homie Gregory T. Angelo holds court as an editor-type who WASN'T paying dues 5yrs ago alongside my ass in a busted up white van with a trailer full of sets and costumes for our non-union stint as The Outsiders) hosted their very first Out There Awards @ Crobar on Monday night and my scheming ass got slipped a very precious golden ticket. Straight out of Willy Wonka with the golden ticket, ya'll, including the rule about "You may bring one guest and one guest only". I actually skipped down the streets of Soho like Charlie Bucket, except with better hair and teeth (that kid looked busted. What, your poverty-stricken ass can't afford a toothbrush and comb?). Even though I'd had a really rough week @ work and am not a serious clubber, I just couldn't bear to spend another nice quiet evening in the fucking stillness of my uber-clean apartment. Nightlife called. So I rang up a pretty boy I know, got myself together, hailed a cab to OUCH, and let the healing begin.
I wasn't prepared for how Done Up things were gonna be. Most of these gay events are pretty lame, with one or two D-list DJ's making an appearance, and aging go-go boys that I wouldn't even admit to riding the same train next to. I went just expecting to stay a short time, figured I'd only be able stand outside of my element for about an hour before Boredom lured me back uptown on the A train, but I had a ton of fun. The awards were hysterical, with subversive categories like Most Improved Drag Queen, Most Overexposed DJ, and Best Weekly Party That Got Shut Down, and were presented by a fucking random smorgasbord of NYC Nighttime personalities. Anthony Rapp went onstage and presented, which alone made the whole night worth the cab fare, and a LOT of other gay glitterati was there --- including Andy Towle, who's even more gorgeous in person. Jai Rodriguez' hated ass, thankfully, was nowhere in sight; probably busy doing something culturally-relevant, like teaching straight guys how to stand still @ a party. Anyway, the event was HUGE. I actually ran into a lot familiar faces, including an ex-roommate who I had no idea heads up Da Lipstyxx now, an ex-classmate (Hi, Peppermint!) who made a huge impression on me and with whom I'm having dinner with next week, an ex-plaything who still fills out those jeans nicely, and an ex-bitter friend with whom I finally buried the hatchet. By the end of the night I'd smooched on a tall hottie (looked a lot like Bravo) who I found out works @ my old job, got molested by a tranny, got shouted out --- "Oh my God is that SPRITEBOY?!" --- by the loudass Amensia Sparkles (yes, that one who I think looks even hotter out of drag), and just had a great time getting out of my clouded head. Check out the new issue of NEXT, I'm sure they'll be recapping the shit out of it all. After the mo's shut Crobar down, my newly accquired crew of beautiful boys and I went to that glow-in-the-dark Pizza Bar, which had really fucking good pepporoni. Afterwards it was late and there was a lot of walking around wondering what to do next, a lot of hugging and "I love you man". It's been awhile since I had a night out with the boys, been awhile since I had a real night out at all. It felt good.
My iTunes and I are on a nostalgia binge this week. I can't stop thinking about oldschool jams. I got home from the salon today (rockin' my new black and red mop) and spent a good 15 minutes breaking it down in the middle of my living room floor to Coolio's "Fantastic Voyage" playing on loop with the bass cranked up. Before that, on the train ride uptown, it was "Weak" by SWV. And on the way to work this morning I was deep in the flow of "Tha Crossroads" with Bones Thugs & Harmony. Yes, dudes. See you at the crossroads so you won't be lonlaaaay (and I'mgonnamiss EV-RAY-BODY).
Well, Miss Jodi, one of my favorite bloggers ever, tagged me for a Meme. I think you're just supposed to fill them out and pass them on ike an annoying e-prayerchain or cyber petition. But I love talking about myself so, in no particular order, here we go.
7 things I plan to do before I die:
1) be completely happy with who I am
2) live in my dream building @ 100 w.81st Street
3) have messy, loud sex in a barn
4) get those 15 minutes clocked in
5) see the Pyramids
6) be a Dad
7) buy my mom a real lighthouse on the shore, she's obsessed with them
7 things I can do:
1) brew really good iced tea
2) see things for what they are
3) fall asleep anywhere
4) waste hours surfing the web and not get bored
5) work a crowd
6) make a great mixed CD
7) beat cancer
7 things I cannot do:
1) make someone change their mind
2) drive a car w/o hitting something
3) housebreak my dog
4) leave home w/o my ipod
5) go back to Texas
6) pretend to be amused by sports
7) take Tom Cruise seriously
7 things that attract me to the opposite/same sex:
1) cockiness (taking Confidence to a higher level is sexy)
2) blond hair, blue eyes, KILLER smile
3) a happy go lucky attitude to contrast mine
4) full ownership of all their quirks and downsides
5) solid opinions (i hate ppl who play indifferent)
6) a slender build (not skinny. i can't work with that.)
7) hobbies that don't necessarily include anyone else
7 things that I say most often:
1) I love this shit.
2) Sorry I missed your call.
3) BAD DOG! STOP IT!
4) You're a mess.
5) Hold your shit, bitch. You know how we do.
6) Wanna be my plus one tonight?
7) Welcome to Concierge, this is Chris speaking.
7 celebrity crushes:
1) Mandy Moore - no explaination needed.
2) Ryan Seacrest - it's more of a sick fascination, I can't WAIT for the E! True Hollywood Story to hear about "when it all came crashing down."
3) Ewan McGregor - b/c he can do anything --- musicals, animation, action, indie, romantic comedy, drama, sci-fi --- and be amazing at it. Also, he just seems naughty. At a porn set, Ewan would want to be the fluffer. I love him.
4) Kelly Clarkson - she just seems really nice and grateful.
5) Danny Roberts from Real World New Orleans - um, the accent, the eyes, the sheepish grin. I still have his season taped on VHS and I don't even own a VCR anymore.
6) Claire Danes - b/c she was Angela Chase, and everytime I put on a flannel shirt I think of her.
7) Matt Czuchry - he's just so damn cute.
And now I'm passing this on to some other folks. Not that anyone will be filling them out, b/c most ppl aren't like me and will have lives and plans over this holiday weekend. Most ppl won't sit at home watching TV with their dog. Shit, most ppl aren't even reading this blog today, they're in cars on the way to beaches and concerts and stuff. Traitors. Run to your bliss.
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