feeling

While unpacking my weekend bag, I found a single blue argyle sock of his. and I actually put it up to my face in some misguided attempt to feel him again.

One weekend; four days of time together and I'm spun .

Gnawing

im one of those people who reads AM New York- the free daily handed out at subway stations by wind-chapped people.
I skimmed the fashion week coverage and first saw Eva Longoria who was at the Matthew Williamson show I worked at...and then I of course saw a short review of Rodarte, and it plunged me into a deeper black hole of depression.

Rodarte is a Vogue-darling- annointed by Wintour herself as fashion prodigies- which in itself wouldn’t depress me.
But Rodarte is designed by a duo of heavy-set sisters who still live with their parents in Pasadena. And they were girls I used to happy hour with at tacky Castro bars in SF.
Fashion Week is a seasonal abusive reminder to me that I have met people along the way who love what they do. Editors, designers, etc- some of whom I’ve dated or at least drank with on a regular basis who are successful and seem outwardly happy…who at one point were at the same level as I was…and somehow I’m now here.

And this is my life.
What happened?

the apt search in nyc

i honestly hate the apt search in nyc more than anything, i am seriously considering moving to ohio and letting myself get fat and watch reality TV and develop a farmers tan.

long day of work

stuck at work till 8pm, i run over to the gym and pump out a solid 45 minute chest and arm workout and rush over to doggy day care to pick up the rhodesian before they close at 9p. 

the fat day care employee glares at me as i stroll in at 8:59p with my cell against my ear and my eye to my blackberry. i could really care less if this fat fuck has to wait an extra ten minutes for me. my day is completely not my own- i am the bitch of my company and its founding partners and i find the smugness of the doggie day care employees infuriating.

i make a healthy dinner of sausage, spinach, broccoli, and fresh mozzarella and watch old episodes of Sex and the City with my roomie/best friend. I realize how mean the cougars on SATC are to one another- and it makes me feel a little better for being such a cunty friend to my best friends- I guess thats what best friends do to one another- they tell you the things you don't want to hear. 

I take a klonopin to bring me down to earth from the adderoll and fully recognize that yes I am participating in a system of uppers and downers but its finally Friday tomorrow and I could care less.

I'm finally drowsy and feel the end of the day coming upon me. Tomorrow I have an annoying project to tackle but look forward to a good work-out and drinking with the friends tomorrow night.

a newfriend has inspired me to start blogging again,. so here it goes:
i'm exhausted from a late dinner (read: drinking) and i'm at my desk pondering how I ever got to this moment.

Will I always feel so inadequate? I'm not buff, rich, or successful enough to warrant my existence. Sounds harsh and self-pitying- but fuck you this is my blog and I can whine all I want.
It doesn't help that I have a friend who's the equivalent of Captain America and Regina George. I can't help but to compare myself against him and all the attention that gay men throw their way.

The love life is in shambles. My ex has hired a surrogate to carry his seed and she's fully three months pregnant....

I'm still in love with him. Probably always will be. I have had countless dreams in which we kiss passionately-which is odd given that we stopped doing that long ago.

I've been dating a young restauranteur who I wildly volley from adoring to abhorring. I'll call him some nights longing for his presence--other nights I'll recoil from his touch and find faults with the most random qualities- like the fact that he eats like shit. Onion Rings with mayonaise. Milk with whip cream.

It makes my skin crawl and I deny him sex.

My job is a comedy of errors. I'm the asisstant to perhaps the best publicist in the nation- I was promoted several months ago, but that transition is dragging on as my Devil Wears Charvet boss is having a hard time letting go, but I still don't know what kind of career I want.

30 is on the horizon- a little over a year and change away- and I have so much to do before I'm forced to do that survey of accomplishments.

So for now I'm eating my veggies, trying to stick to my gut and stay true to my values.

I need to take a pill now. Signing off- astro.

The problem with blogs

most of my life now deals with confidential information- well the juicy stuff does- that writing a blog isn't really possible. not that anyone ever read this save for my very few close friends.

Fuck YouTube

I've been trying to post a fucking youtube video and its not working. I hate not being able to do something a 6 yr old with down syndrome can do in their sleep.

Things to look forward to:
1. Vacation on the 22nd.
2. Fire Island this weekend?

God Speaks

Today in New York was so ridic that it was ridonkulous...this morning while passed out, there apprantly was some biblical storm that flooded the entire subway system.

And that led to the entire city spiraling into chaos- which I honestly love. No other city falls into complete disarray better than New York, and it was particularly fantastic because today is the most humid day thus far this year, with a temperature of 94 and 80 percent humidty. It felt like we were walking around a huge yeasty ripe vagina.

Many i-bankers decided it was better to strip their shirts off rather than sweating through them which gave me a cheap thrill. There's n0thing quite like seeing a buff straight guy who is probably a big self-centered asshole without his shirt.

Fortunately,I was in VERY RARE form and was on my way into the office an hour earl but it took me a full hour and a half to get here- and living in Williamsburg, I was smashed up against hipsters. It was quite the experience as I usually throw icy daggers with my eyes at the scruffy posers.

Lesson from God: Don't even try to get to work early. You just are not meant to be in the office before 9am.

Amen to that.

Happiness is...

being at the beach with your big crazy dog... and having your best friend nearby. I miss mine, he's out at the beach with the dog, and I've never felt so far away from them.

Edicts

me: why am i friends with those people again?
D-Riggedy: oh that's right
me: they're toooooo gay, im in a homophobic mood
D-Riggedy: i forgot
me: i mean they go to circuit parties
ewww!
im pretty sure they went to the pier dance
i can't be friends with people like that
i am going to make a broad delcaration and state that if you attend more than 2 circuit events in a calendar year, then we sadly cannot have any sort of friendship
and there's my edict
im going to post it on my blog and make it official
what other things can i add to my list, purchasing andrew christian or ginch gonch underwear.
wearing camouflage over the age of 21?
believing that doing E on a weekly basis is okay
D-Riggedy: lol
you are killing me
me: well recognize thats its me trying to distance myself from something that is a part of me
but working out incessantly is also part of that
i really should have better things to do
like feeding orphaned black tranny childrens
D-Riggedy: i would pay to see that
me: i of course would do it in a head wrap much like angie
posing for photos as i caress the children
lips full and pouted

Good Morning

Life is good, great even, sometimes its hard being perpetually broke and hungry for something unknown, but I'm alive and still able to run wild.

Now if only that was enough for my creditors.

G-L-A-M-O-R-O-U-S

I'm trying to be a better person, I really am.

I just wish I could stop fixating on the same issues in my life- it seems as if I'm arrested in this stage where I obsessively think about looks and sex which I think is what's expected of me as a gay man.

That compulsive need to be affirmed for how I look is so spiritually vacant and boring that its frustrating to think that I've been trying to get past this for most of my adult life.

Why I love Ann Coulter

So Ann's gotten into a bit of trouble these days by mouthing off and saying the word faggot.

But at least the blonde witch has the guts to say faggot instead of just voting against my rights to marry and using ambiguous language.

The problem with our bi-partisan system is that it creates an atmosphere where politicans have to embrace a wide set of issues- and somewhat agree on the stance decided upon by the party.

It's so black and white- so not in touch with how humanity lives in its various dissentions and needs.

But if we have to play this game, I will say that I hope that Republicans are ashamed of themselves for supporting a lying sack of shit. How many more scandals do we need for the GOP to stop pointing their judgemental fingers at Clinton and his supposed tyranny?

I'm on Fire

Recently, someone criticized me for my juvenille interests. Since I am now a 27 year old man- I guess I'm supposed to wear lots of argyle sweaters, go gallery hopping, and watch indie fimlsat the Angelika theatre. And you know what, I do those things (well except for the argyle- that's played out.)

And in spite of what people think how I should live, I also like to:

-watch America's Next Dancelife in the Laguna Hills
-drink
-make out
-be loud
-nap
-and discuss the merits of favorite shows while drinking and making out loudly which all leads up to napping

I understand the criticism that perhaps I'm not devoting enough of my life to more serious matters like discussing national security and global warming, or that I'm not changing the world by building my own leadership academy for girls. (go Oprah!), but I'm doing things one day at a time.

So fuck off, because as a wise old man with big biceps once said, "I am what I am."

In the Elevator

One of the four elevators in my office building is down, and it's making my life hell.
And for some odd statement from God, I'm always trapped in there for long periods of time with morbidly obese people.

The kind of people who breathe heavily and sweat....because they've walked the 20 feet from their office to the elevator.

Politcal Correctness aside. that's just fucking sick. If you're that fat, then stop fucking eating. Just stop, and let your body feed off your lard.

Because when you're in an elevator, there's an unusually eerie silence. You can hear a pin drop in there.
But not with Kirstie Alley and John Travolta riding. All you hear is heavy labored breathing, and all I can think of is fat folds of sweat.

High School Friends

So I'm almost ten years out of high school- and let me just tell anyone who's 18 now, the next ten years are going to go by faster than you could ever imagine. And you're going to realize how retarded and lame most of your dramas are..that is if you ever grow up. (some people don't, and those people end up dating your friends)

In high school I had a really tight group of friends--- but in retrospect, my friendships were largely formed by an innate desire to belong to a group of friends- so that I could take lots of stupid group photos and have a table to call my own in the quad.

Sure they were sweet enough but what teenager in high school really knows themselves. My friendships were a product of promixity and convenience...and my need to feel accepted at a very insecure time in my life.

That desire to be in a clique sadly never goes away for most people- it's yet one more paradoxical element of man. We all want to be unique and special but in a way that allows us membership with other kindred unique special spirits. To be different and yet to belong.

Anyway, I met up with two of my high school best friends who also live here in New York. It was great seeing them, and upon meeting at the designated coffee shop, we all were so eager to update each other on our lives. We all spoke quickly, bringing up anecdotes and horror stories from our youth.

At when we were done an hour later, we parted ways, promising each other that we'd at least get dinner in the next month.

Relationships change and it's been hard for me to let that wash over me. It saddens me when someone who used to be so close to me starts to drift away, but that's the nature of friendship.

Warm fuzzy me

how the hell are you, people? does anyone even read this anymore?!

well for those who are, my sweet lemmings,

things that made me happy this past week:

1. Watching episodes of The View on DVR. Either you love or hate Rosie O. She's fat, outspoken, and liberal- but at least she can string together a coherent thought, Ms. Hasselsack.

2. Seeing Sampson play in the dog park.

3. News that Britney's dead. Oh that's wishful thinking.

The Day After

I meant to post this before...just realized I never did...

The day Chao left was incredibly hard. I found myself sobbing at inopportune times.
At work I had to hole myself up in the bathroom stall and let the tears out. When I had finished crying, I splashed cold water on my face and stared at myself- red eyes and puffy.

Some people look gorgeous crying. I'm not one of them.

When I walked back into the slick offices of my current PR office- the Christian Louboutin heels clacking away- one of the impossibly skinny glamourous girls noticed I had been crying- but as this office has an air of cold professionalism.... because of the hunger (for ambition, not carbs), she simply smiled at me and said, "Want some coffee?"

I loved that.

That first weekend was a little hard, but I met up with friends and went to the standard Chelsea gay house party- full of guys in stripped button down shirts (think Ted Baker), beefy bartenders in tight tees, and cocaine being snorted like its 1988.

All in all, I had some fun, but things aren't the same. My partner-in-crime is gone.

Gotta Keep Moving On

This afternoon, Tim and I meet up with Chao for lunch for the last time. Hes boarding a 4:30 plane this afternoon to move back to Los Angeles.

As usual Chao was running late for our 12:30 lunch date. I called him at 12:15 and woke him- he informed me he had to pick up his last paycheck first. So typical its expected.

At 1:15, Chao finally arrived, calling from his cell, suggesting we eat at Taco Bell instead of our usual Whole Foods locale. I refused. I won't eat there even if his car service was scheduled to stop by 2pm. We agreed to figure it out on the street.

On a hustling Broadway, I spied up the street, Chao and his usual hurried demeanor, cell phone to ear, wire-rimmed glasses framing his porcelain perfect skin, and a way too stylish trenchcoat making its last outing before being retired in sunnier environs.

We got coffee instead of lunch at Max Brenner's, and had one last session of laughter; referencing Laguna Beach, talking about future plans, and giving heart-felt wishes of good luck.

I know people come and go out of our lives. It's the way things work. But sometimes it's really hard.

I've had to say goodbye to friends before. People move, and some have even died. And a part of me selfishly wants to keep all of my loved ones at my side. In the same city to be in each other's lives completely. and not just over e-mails. All of those amazing friends who have continued to inspire and amaze me with their crazy spirit and brillance.

But for now I have to say goodbye to seeing Chao everyday. Seeing him freak out, become sober, and shop way too much. Seeing him with his hard exterior, being a total cunt to the world, and knowing the full extent of his marvelous vulnerability.

A year and a half ago, I left New York to find something. I returned not sure what I found- but now- its Chao's turn to go.

I hope you find what you're looking for. LA's a wonderful city- its a little hard at first but just make sure to enjoy the sunshine and you'll be more than fine. And go hike at Ruyon Canyon for me. Eat In-n-Out after working out and hug Jojo and visit your family more than once a month.

Best of Luck Chao Chao, I'll miss you so much it hurts. Texting and cell phone calls just aren't the same. New York will be here waiting for you in case you ever decide to come back.

Other VMA Comments

A couple thoughts on last night's VMAs:
1. I must be old because Panic at the Ok Fall Out Chemical whatthefuckever all looked exactly alike to me? I kept asking Chow, "Who is that?! And doesn't that guy looks like a gay Jared Leto?"
2. Who the fuck invited Jack White's new band, the Racconteurs, to play every five minutes! Jack, you're pale and make me want to committ murder homocide.
3. Christina, gurl, you can sing. We all know you can sing, but WHY THE FUCK would you pick some fruity ass ballad that belongs in Pippin 2: Another Faggoty Ass Gay Musical to sing at the VMA's.
4. Pink won Best Female Video for "Stupid Girls" over Shakira's "Hips.." and Christina's "Ain't No Other Man..." What?! Did anyone buy this fucking album?! How much airplay did her shitty song/so-so video even get?! And she's such a dyke! Her new hair-cut scared me gayer.
5. What was Andre 3000 wearing? Ralph Lauren for women?
6. J-Lo and her cancer-patient headwrap? Hmmm... gurl, that thing looked fucked- up and you can't read a teleprompter either. Methinks you lurned to read in the Bronx.