On Saturday my car battery died after I forgot to turn my headlights off. So I waited around for my new best friend, my English counterpart, to come over to jump my car. All in all not that bad of an experience, but it totally shows you how fucking dependent you are on this random piece of machinery that just burns any money you might have with gasoline and insurance. Without a car in L.A., you might as well start walking through the desert with Moses because you aren't getting anywhere.
You could take the bus, but the public transportation system here is apparantly so abhorrent that third-world countries look at it and laugh at our ineptitude.
But that hassle was nothing compared to what I found on my bed last night.
My roommate is a reserved shy girl in her late 20's. Doesn't date much, has a few friends, and has a pretty dykey haircut.
And she's a cat-lady in training....
Cat-ladies have funny-smelling houses, twenty cats, and a propsenity to constantly baby talk to their pets. In other words, they're fucking obsessed with their cats, and that's just fucking wierd.
Mandy has three cats. Three. Who needs three cats?! NO ONE!
If youre that lonely, I recommend sex websites. or religion. or go to AA meetings and pose as an addict.
Actually do they have a pets-anonymous?! Well, there should be one! Because at what point do you not realize that having more than 2 cats is just ridiculous.
When I first moved in, there was the understanding there'd be only one. One I can handle because I can throw shoes at it and create the understanding that there will be no relationship other than co-habitation.
I totally hate cats because they're like women/gay men. They're moody, bitchy, irritable, capricious, and vascillate between purring and attempting to claw your eyes out.
If I wanted that kind of behavior, I'd work in a gay bar again or join a soriority.
Well anyway, one of her fucking cats took a diaherritic shit on my down comforter. It soaked through the duvet, comforter, and stained my sheets.
So I told her this morning and she's like.
"Oh thats really gross." and the bitch walks out the door to work.
Tonight she's getting a bill and I've declared war on the cats.
Monday, November 14, 2005
Friday, November 11, 2005
Juiced Up Dreamboat
Last night I went to the Wet Underwear Contest at the Gauntlet. I'd been once before to the local leather bar and was pleasantly surprised to see how comfortable and laidback the place was.
And how incredibly fucking hot the bartender was.
His name: Jason.
His body: insane.
This time out I dragged my friend Tony along. Tony's been a personal trainer for about 10 years- an affable Southern man with a hick twang- and a severe distaste for steroids.
The minute I pointed out Jason, Tony's face went sour.
"Boy oh boy. He's done several cycles of steriods. Now thats really sad."
My first honest reaction to that: "Uh who cares, he's hot"
But after thinking about it some more it really hit me how shallow it is to risk your health to get big.
Ironically, Jason was pretty chatty last night but I couldn't get Tony's comment out of my head.
And how incredibly fucking hot the bartender was.
His name: Jason.
His body: insane.
This time out I dragged my friend Tony along. Tony's been a personal trainer for about 10 years- an affable Southern man with a hick twang- and a severe distaste for steroids.
The minute I pointed out Jason, Tony's face went sour.
"Boy oh boy. He's done several cycles of steriods. Now thats really sad."
My first honest reaction to that: "Uh who cares, he's hot"
But after thinking about it some more it really hit me how shallow it is to risk your health to get big.
Ironically, Jason was pretty chatty last night but I couldn't get Tony's comment out of my head.
Wednesday, November 09, 2005
Little Bundles of Inside Voices
My female friends claim that there's something biological that occurs in their late 20's that makes them look at children in a different way. Instead of complete apathetic indifference, an instinctual mothering instinct starts to build.
Well I think that most of you should avoid that instinct because let's face it, most of us are completely incapable of being fit parents.
And it's not just women who have these maternal instincts. It seems that gay dads are becoming increasingly more common . I see gay dads everywhere in Chelsea and West Hollywood pushing the strollers of their ethnic children. Its incredibly adorable but I often feel as if these men are really smug- their eyes taunting my empty shallow life.
I just know they're thinking:
"Oh look at that sad queen, still going out to the gay bars cruising for sex. Hmmph! Thank god for [insert Chinese daugther's name]!"
And then I think to myself"
"I hope your daughter grows up fat and mean. "
But lately, something strange has been stirring inside me. Something more than just indigestion from King Taco. I've been having some pangs of desire to be a father. Me? A dad?
I don't know where it's come from but I think I'd love to impart a child with kind wisdom and independence, and to be able to nurture their lives with love and Prada.
And if I had a daughter, I would only feed her steamed veggies and brown rice, make her take yoga and ballet at a young age, get her accutane, and braces, all to ensure that she would someday become America's Next Top Model.
But even if I wanted to be a dad, as great or horrible as that could be, the role of a gay father is riddled with several obstacles.
One it's nearly impossible to legally adopt unless you've got extreme patience and a Swiss Bank account.
Two it's hard enough finding a man to be a good boyfriend; much less a good father.
But some men have decided they don't need to wait for Prince Charming to arrive. There are several gay men that I've heard of who are doing the unthinkable and having kids on their own.
Now that takes balls. Or a high threshold for pain.
Having children and being a good father would be a incredible experience- and the idea of seeing the man I love with our child, his strong arms tossing little Giselle in the air, is almost too much for me to bear. I want to be a dad.
Now I'm kind of alone on this one among my friends.
My friend Nam, a successful banker who could actually afford a child at this point, has no desire to have a child. Recently over a Korean dinner, Nam stressed the biggest argument against children.
"For one thing, children never go away. Once you have a kid, they're in your life for good. I can't even committ to having a dog.
But more importantly, you raise them, you love them, you bascially give them your entire life. And what do you get in return? Unappreciative torture. They'll hate you once they turn 14 because children are ingrates. They'll hold everything against you all the while draining you of your money and livelihood. Fuck that. Let me work on getting a dog instead. At least a dog won't tell me I'm a bad parent for not buying them a pony. And a dog will die in 14 years."
My friend Chao, an attorney, goes even further than that and hates other people's children.
He wrote me recently with the subject line: Families and Babies Suck!!
and the following email with a NYT link
"i hate fucking self-righteous parents and their horrible little bastards... ew."
http://www.nytimes.com/2005/11/09/national/09bakery.html?incamp=article_popular_1
If I have a kid, will I have to find new friends? Is that what happens to people with children... do you befriend other parents and act smug together?
Well I think that most of you should avoid that instinct because let's face it, most of us are completely incapable of being fit parents.
And it's not just women who have these maternal instincts. It seems that gay dads are becoming increasingly more common . I see gay dads everywhere in Chelsea and West Hollywood pushing the strollers of their ethnic children. Its incredibly adorable but I often feel as if these men are really smug- their eyes taunting my empty shallow life.
I just know they're thinking:
"Oh look at that sad queen, still going out to the gay bars cruising for sex. Hmmph! Thank god for [insert Chinese daugther's name]
And then I think to myself"
"I hope your daughter grows up fat and mean. "
But lately, something strange has been stirring inside me. Something more than just indigestion from King Taco. I've been having some pangs of desire to be a father. Me? A dad?
I don't know where it's come from but I think I'd love to impart a child with kind wisdom and independence, and to be able to nurture their lives with love and Prada.
And if I had a daughter, I would only feed her steamed veggies and brown rice, make her take yoga and ballet at a young age, get her accutane, and braces, all to ensure that she would someday become America's Next Top Model.
But even if I wanted to be a dad, as great or horrible as that could be, the role of a gay father is riddled with several obstacles.
One it's nearly impossible to legally adopt unless you've got extreme patience and a Swiss Bank account.
Two it's hard enough finding a man to be a good boyfriend; much less a good father.
But some men have decided they don't need to wait for Prince Charming to arrive. There are several gay men that I've heard of who are doing the unthinkable and having kids on their own.
Now that takes balls. Or a high threshold for pain.
Having children and being a good father would be a incredible experience- and the idea of seeing the man I love with our child, his strong arms tossing little Giselle in the air, is almost too much for me to bear. I want to be a dad.
Now I'm kind of alone on this one among my friends.
My friend Nam, a successful banker who could actually afford a child at this point, has no desire to have a child. Recently over a Korean dinner, Nam stressed the biggest argument against children.
"For one thing, children never go away. Once you have a kid, they're in your life for good. I can't even committ to having a dog.
But more importantly, you raise them, you love them, you bascially give them your entire life. And what do you get in return? Unappreciative torture. They'll hate you once they turn 14 because children are ingrates. They'll hold everything against you all the while draining you of your money and livelihood. Fuck that. Let me work on getting a dog instead. At least a dog won't tell me I'm a bad parent for not buying them a pony. And a dog will die in 14 years."
My friend Chao, an attorney, goes even further than that and hates other people's children.
He wrote me recently with the subject line: Families and Babies Suck!!
and the following email with a NYT link
"i hate fucking self-righteous parents and their horrible little bastards... ew."
http://www.nytimes.com/2005/11/09/national/09bakery.html?incamp=article_popular_1
If I have a kid, will I have to find new friends? Is that what happens to people with children... do you befriend other parents and act smug together?
Thursday, November 03, 2005
Im a FUCKING New Yorker
So I had the fucking best time in New York. It really elucidated for me how much happiness I derive from simply being in Manhattan. It's weird how a change of address affects the way you feel and perceive the world because I felt that the world was once again a beautiful place... NOT to say I hate LA...rather the opposite. I've made peace with the City of Angels.
LA's reliable with its predictable people, traffic, and weather. It's been great for re-focusing my energies on work and myself since the nightlife and people here are a bore. And I include myself in that, I'M SO lame and boring here that I find myself disguted with myself. I fantasize about getting tattoos or riding a motorcyle to keep some sort of edginess in my life- to keep from slipping into complete sterile lameness. (both of which I think are the two lamest ways to accomplish that- it's basically a declaration of yourself as a guppie poseur.)
But honestly for a 26 year old attractive gay man, I am becoming edgy in that I don't do drugs, am not caught up in having anonymous sex, and don't feel compelled to be part of a scene.
For once in my life, I embrace being alone. I don't need a posse of men who pose as mean girls backing me up in order to live my life. And for me that's sadly a HUGE development.
So Los Angeles has given me some necessary tools to mature into the man who I want to become- it's given me the space, the time, and the job I needed to do that- and it lacks the urban noises & shiny things that I use to distract myself.
That said... I'm coming back to New York in June. I need to be able to walk in the city I live in. I need museums, good DJ's, and ambitious people who aren't retarded entertainment droids.
So anyway New York and Provincetown were sickly amazing. Ptown for two days gave me a shock of salty cold air and humble people who made no mentions of career or name dropping-worthy friends.
I drove up to New York in time for Halloween- my favorite holiday- and met up with my best friends. We laughed like old friends do- loud and unrestrained.
My favorite moments were walking the streets of New York, my eyes wandering over large buildings and passing strangers.
Err...scratch that, they were the ones I spent with my best friends and my ex-boyfriend. I really am one of those annoying New Yorkers who can't live anywhere else for too long- but a big part of that is the fact that my community of loved ones are the same. We're all New Yorkers. It's in our blood and in our vision of our futures. Despite all its hassles, its bad weather and high rents, New York is my home.
LA's reliable with its predictable people, traffic, and weather. It's been great for re-focusing my energies on work and myself since the nightlife and people here are a bore. And I include myself in that, I'M SO lame and boring here that I find myself disguted with myself. I fantasize about getting tattoos or riding a motorcyle to keep some sort of edginess in my life- to keep from slipping into complete sterile lameness. (both of which I think are the two lamest ways to accomplish that- it's basically a declaration of yourself as a guppie poseur.)
But honestly for a 26 year old attractive gay man, I am becoming edgy in that I don't do drugs, am not caught up in having anonymous sex, and don't feel compelled to be part of a scene.
For once in my life, I embrace being alone. I don't need a posse of men who pose as mean girls backing me up in order to live my life. And for me that's sadly a HUGE development.
So Los Angeles has given me some necessary tools to mature into the man who I want to become- it's given me the space, the time, and the job I needed to do that- and it lacks the urban noises & shiny things that I use to distract myself.
That said... I'm coming back to New York in June. I need to be able to walk in the city I live in. I need museums, good DJ's, and ambitious people who aren't retarded entertainment droids.
So anyway New York and Provincetown were sickly amazing. Ptown for two days gave me a shock of salty cold air and humble people who made no mentions of career or name dropping-worthy friends.
I drove up to New York in time for Halloween- my favorite holiday- and met up with my best friends. We laughed like old friends do- loud and unrestrained.
My favorite moments were walking the streets of New York, my eyes wandering over large buildings and passing strangers.
Err...scratch that, they were the ones I spent with my best friends and my ex-boyfriend. I really am one of those annoying New Yorkers who can't live anywhere else for too long- but a big part of that is the fact that my community of loved ones are the same. We're all New Yorkers. It's in our blood and in our vision of our futures. Despite all its hassles, its bad weather and high rents, New York is my home.
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