Ready, Reset, Go! (2006-2008)

OK - time to lay low for the week.
Nice relaxing week.
No going out, no booze, nothing.
Just go home, learn to cook new things, etc.
Oh yeah, get back to the gym, too. Took a week off.

It's all good... I had another nice weekend and didn't hurt myself much.

Friday - A perfect balance of having a good time at Fritz (no going overboard) and a fun ending.
(I really must consider branching out a bit and going to a bar that is not Fritz. I mean just for variety's sake.)

Saturday - Had dinner and then drinks with GayProf. He's only got a couple of months left in Boston, so I'm hoping we can hang out a few more times until then. Dinner was at a hopping downtown joint called the Silvertone.

Then we went for drinks.

Well, I'm sure GayProf can vouch for the fact that I did not got at all drunk and did not in any way start descending into valley girl talk "like ohhh'muh gahd!"

I mean, seriously - I don't know when I've ever gone valley girl before... I must have been in a very special place. Or maybe I was just listening to too much Stephanie Miller.

Man, how many things did we talk about?
Men, politics, moving, guys are jerks, politics, drinking, being drunk...
How many things do I remember?

Actually, most of it - and listen, that's a vast improvement over a few months ago.
...

On Sunday, I met for brunch with three guys I got to know through the Jamaica Plain gay social group. Great place called Union in the South End, which is a neighborhood that is the soon-to-be too-expensive even-for-gays former-center of Boston gayville. Union was fun, reasonably priced, good bloodies (and eggs bene with smoked salmon as an option - nice twist), attractive men, and sunshine.

But who's idea was to make reservations for noon?
On a Sunday??
For four gay men to have brunch?

Noon???

While the traditional end of brunch is usually 2pm, it is the existence of gay men that has pushed brunch into the 3pm zone.

There is a reason for this and I humbly think it should be respected.

Noon. Hmmpph. Not even enough time for the aspirin to kick in.

Regardless, a good time was had, since Bloody Mary's are sort of like nutrition and codeine all in one.

Then the question: "should we go to Fritz for drinks?"
Followed by the perfect response: "Hmmm... well why don't we go to Fritz and decide then."

Spoken like a true gay man! :D

Finally, after a good while at the bar-I-always-seem-to-end-up-in, one of the guys and I went to watch Casino Royale over a bottle of wine.

You'd think it'd make more sense having it over a vodka Martini, shaken not stirred, but I wouldn't have made it to the end of the film then. As it was, it all made for an enjoyable evening.

And, though I was a bit running-on-fumes when coming in for work this morning, the weekend was worth it.
...

Oh, I do have to say, Casino Royale was a really fucking amazing movie. One of those crack-your-brain-open type movies. It took risks all over the place, and, shockingly, they all payed off.

I mean the whole middle of the frakking film is Bond playing Texas Hold-em!
And it was good!

Oh, and how fucking glorious was it that the sex object of this particular James Bond film was Daniel Craig?

Oh Mah Gahd. I want to have his fucking babies.

In the first above 80 degree day here in who knows how long, I found myself at a deck party after work with a whole bunch of guys and girls... all of whom were flight attendants.




Thought #1 of the evening: "They sure are festive in their free time!"

Thought #2 of the evening: "Hmmm... I always figured maybe 90% of guy flight attendants are gay. And 90% of the women like to party with them. Looks like I was right on both counts."

Thought #3 of the evening: "And the gay flight attendants are all cute..."

Thought #4 of the evening: "Plus, they get to travel like everywhere in the world - even when they're not working - for basically no fee."

Thought #5 of the evening: "... aaaand all the gay flight attendants are cute."

Final-word thought of the evening: "Damn, am *I* in the wrong profession!"


Favorite conversational moment of the evening. Talking to a very cute early 20 something flight attendant...

Me: Blah blah blah went to Fritz for drinks blah blah blah

Him (with a mildly surprised look): Wait... you're gay?

Me (confused): Well... Yeah... is any guy here not?

Him (smile): Oh... you should give me you're number.

In fairness, this may have been to follow up to an offer of an airfare deal of some kind.
But today I choose to go with the more fun interpretation.

Things I learned this weekend:

• SUNLIGHT!!! It's Not Just For Florida Anymore!

• Lime Rickies are a fun drink

• Roslindale, MA has some fun Restaurants.

• While many nights, my gas runs out, once my "going-out" engine is truly revved up and purring, I can still keep it going.
  
• Went from Roslindale to Back Bay in about 25 minutes by T. Caught the last couple of hours at Fritz. Met guys. Had fun. Nuff said.

• Sometimes too much of an accent - any accent - is a slight turn-off.
  
• I used to feel that way about Jamie Bamber's accent, though I think I've heard it enough to like it now.
  
• I felt the same about an accent that was just a bit too thickly French. And I love the French and Quebecois guys, really... a lot.

• He had a slammin' body though. Perfect Cadinot-style French guy.
• But the very thick accent and the French Chansons... am I so much like Seinfeld that I'll focus on that one odd thing as a reason to never see a person ever again?
• If so, that's sad.

• I can not shake the last remnants of this head infection I've had for weeks. It's tons better than a few weeks back, but it's still there, low-level. Blech.

• Hanging out, driving with the top down, with a new friend is fun, even if you're not at your best (due to said low-level sniffles and a series of Lime Rickies the night before).
• Ogunquit, Maine looks like a somewhat less-gay version of Provincetown. But potentially, at night, anyway, it seems to be a hopping gay "resort" town.

• I will - I must - get to Provincetown at least... lets say 3 weekends this summer. Provincetown, and potentially Ogunquit, too, are wonderful gay beach/pool town escapes so close to Boston.

• Jamaica Plain has some fun Lounge Restaurants, too!
• After a full day driving in the sun, two grown men can have dinner, a martini each and polish off a bottle of wine, and still have fun and interesting conversation.
• I like that.

• It's good to know when to say, "ok, no late-night going out for me tonight. Not necessary tonight - I had a great time all day and evening. And now I need some sleep. Thank you for the time well-spent."
• I like that, too.
  

I'm mainly just writing to vent at the moment. I'll get back to me me me soon enough.
...

(Relevant UPDATE below)

You know those people who got shot at Virginia Tech?

Well, I didn't know this, but apparently it was all their fault. In part, if I read this right, because the guys who were shot were too wimpy to fight back.

Wow. I wouldn't have believed it but some guy wrote it in a National journal, so it must be true.
(Oh, actually, some other guy wrote about it, too... so it's like totally the truth.)

Heck of a read, I tell ya. Read it all...

Point one: They’re not “children.” The students at Virginia Tech were grown women and — if you’ll forgive the expression — men

(emphasis mine)

If you read the whole thing, it's clear that the people who are now dead were all pathetic scaredy-cats.

Huh... I hadn't thought of it that way.

I mean if the men that were killed on that campus had really been men, they wouldn't have been cowering in fear, would they?

See, the quoted author was apparently on-scene during the shooting since he evidently witnessed the simpering cowards, correct? I mean, in his view they must have deserved to be shot - cause they were a bunch of wusses, right?

Yes, if there had been a real man there, he would have rushed to wherever the fuck the bullets were coming from, taken a ton a bullets in the chest and kept going - cause real men don't die - found the shooter, snapped his neck, and lifted his bloodied fist in the air yelling "Yo, Adrian!"

But these guys didn't, right?

They must have been so gay-ified by the "librul left" that they just sat whining for mommy, right?

Cause the author was there, right?

Cause he knows what the fuck was going on on that campus, right?

Cause he - HE - would have done the Stallone slow-motion run, because he's the only real man left in the fucking world. He knows what he would have done.


If it's not yet obvious, I think the quoted author is full of an elephant's load of shit.

Fucking unbelievable.

Blaming the dead.

My God... Another man with no soul.
...

UPDATE:

Well, whaddaya know! Mr. Mark Steyn, the author of the above-referenced article, must have been on-scene at a different massacre. Looks like there were some men at Virgina Tech that Mr. Steyn would be grudgingly forced to call "men". Maybe some women, too!

Who would have thunk someone at National Review would have jumped to all sorts of evil and just plain WRONG conclusions.

Students Panicked and Then Held Off Gunman:

...

Then, with gunshots ringing down the hall, Mr. O’Dell, who had been shot in the arm, and other students shut the classroom door and pushed themselves against it to prevent the gunman from getting back in.

A few minutes later, the gunman tried to force his way back inside the classroom, where Mr. Perkins was using his jacket and sweatshirt to stanch the wounds of bleeding students. Mr. Cho managed to open the door a crack, but the students pushed back hard enough to stop him.

“I sprinted on top of the desk to the door, because the aisle was clogged with people, and I used my foot as a wedge against the door,” recalled Mr. O’Dell. “It was almost like you had to fight for your life. If you didn’t, you died.”

Mr. Perkins said he was struck at how Mr. O’Dell managed to help hold back the gunman, given his injury.

“It was just amazing to me that he was still up and leaning against the door,” he said. “Derek was able to hold him off while I was helping other people.”

...

Still, the gunman was determined to get into the room, firing repeatedly at the door...

(emphases mine)

So, really, the dudes (and and least one icky lady, by the way) writing all that bullshit about what a bunch of pansy-sissies all the dead students were... well, they can all just suck my ass as far as I'm concerned.

Nah... that's too good for them. And I'd probably puke having them anywhere near me.

UPDATE: OH Yes... This basically sums it all up...
(H/t Sadly, No!)

     Shorter Everybody On The Internet:
     "The senseless massacre at Virginia Tech basically
     confirms everything I’ve been saying all along."

Amazing, isn't it?

All the rain must have put me in a daze yesterday. I was only barely aware of the news.

Now that I'm in working order again...


If I hear one more comment that "if everyone had had his Constitutionally approved gun in his pocket in VA Tech, everything would have been fine," I'm gonna hurl.

People got different views on guns and how they should be handed out... totally fine.

But people think turning that campus into the OK Corral would have made people less dead?

???

And now - one day later - you got some people trying to prove the assassin was.... what? a Muslim (because of the obscure "Ismail AX" phrase on his arm)? and what? Presumably an arm of al quaeda? Where are people going with this?

If it was blatantly obvious, like "I am doing this for my peeps in the Taliban," I'd understand a little, but it's like people are actually trying to make this an international incident.

Why?

Why are people bringing their political baggage in the house just ONE DAY LATER?


Back off with the talking points, please.

Just BACK THE FUCK OFF!


There will be time enough for the yelling to commence in a short while, I'm sure.

For now, leave these people be.

I watch Scrubs a lot.

It's one of the few shows that almost makes me cackle with ridiculous glee. That, along with Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends, helped my laugh through the worst of this past year.

After many repeated viewings of endless Tivo-ed episodes of Scrubs, I have come to the conclusion that of all the characters on the show, I have an much in common with, of all people, Elliot (right, next to JD, left).

She's a boat-load of crazy, she's frequently getting laid by a stream of incredibly handsome man, and yet she has massive insecurities. She obsesses way too much about what people think about her, often making her behave in incredibly goofy ways.

I, in comparison, am mildly crazy, I am at least occasionally having sex with good-looking men, and yet I have fluctuating insecurities. I often obsess way too much about what people think about me, making me behave in incredibly drunk ways.

Key similarity… this exchange early in the series. Elliot brings up the topic of sex to Carla, who has recently started going out with muscular beauty, Turk.

Elliot (to Carla): …have you slept with Turk yet?
...
Carla: I like to wait. I like a guy to want it so bad he basically thinks he isn't gonna get it ever. Then when he's lost the will to live, that's when I jump him.

Elliot: So, how long does that usually-
Carla: A month, maybe two. What about you?

Elliot: Uh… I like to use sex as an ice-breaker.

Heh… Considering my history with relationship-starters, I so resemble that remark.

Anyway, I had a very good weekend. Hope you all had a good one, too.

So, you might remember, back in early February (point #5 in this post), I mentioned that I broke off all contact with the ex (see "Ex-ual relations" in the sidebar) . I wasn't really sure if it was forever or just until I became a self-sufficient and confident person again.

And if you track my mood over the month of March up until now, you can see that that distance has helped. I mean alot. A LOT a lot.

Before this, there was always this foreboding of the next time I had to communicate with John, which will always be a reminder that he's got a happy relationship with the guy he was dating for months behind my back - the guy I would go ape-shit on if I ever knew who he was.

And every time - every time - it happened, I would go downhill: I'd get angry, sad, and become reclusive in my aloneness and unwellness.

And I would freeze, which would prevent me from actually working on becoming not-alone and not-unwell. And whatever progress I'd made in moving myself up and out would be ripped down, and I'd have to start over again until the next kick in the face. The classic Sisyphean task, except I could see who was wrenching the rock out of my hand and tossing it down the hill.
...

So, the breaking of all contact was serving its purpose. I am beginning to build myself up without the routine pummeling.

It's given me optimism again.

I'm meeting new and fun people and slowly improving, healthwise.
...

So you can imagine what I felt when he emailed me a couple of days ago.

He wanted me to re-engage with his nephew - which is something I want to do as well. But I know that it won't work until I have worked out my issues. Until then, being with him will always be a reminder of what John did. And for all the good progress I'd made over the past month, I feel that a month is simply not enough.

So I told John just that.

Unfortunately, I prefaced it with an unfortunately snide remark.

To which he responded:

Try not to drown in your self-pity!

Self-pity? Oh my, that's so two months ago. It's all about rebuilding and moving forward now. Didn't you get the memo?
...

The timing was almost perfect, you know. I got that particular email about 30 minutes before going to my first therapy session in 14 years. So, I had my emotions all nice and fresh, ready to share.
...

Thankfully, all that crap was followed by a nice dinner with Will. We had drinks and great eats at Laurels and talked for quite a few hours. We talked about lots of stuff, from moving on from problem ex's, to politics (oh so much to talk about these days!), to him building the new house in New Hampshire that he and his long-term partner will live in, his trips in China and Europe, and, of course, moving onward and upward by taking control of your own life in spite of your fears.

It was a pleasant way to end the day after all the other bs.

Thanks, Will!
...

Even with all that stuff, I think I may be starting to handle this all better. I might even be able to work my head around John's subsequent offer of a "dialog". But I know I won't sacrifice my recovery for anyone. It'll be on my terms and that's that.
...


I'd never noticed my back before this year.

Probably because I don't have eyes on stalks that can reach behind me and check on my rear.

So, I just assumed I had no width in the upper back at all.

But when I moved to my friend's house (after leaving John), I now had a bathroom with mirrors all over the place.

I have no idea why, but there it is.

Anyway, I was very surprised one morning to see my back in the mirror and see that, while not having the classic V-shape that all gay men are required to have, I do have something a bit better than the "I" which I thought I had.

Happy half-nekkid Thursday (HNT)!

Discoveries This Week

Sick Sucks:

• Having a bacterial sinus infection makes one very disinterested in writing anything at all.
• Unlike simple viral head colds, bacterial sinus infections hurt like a fucker. Tylenol will not help the pain.
• Antibiotics (while they still actually work) are a Godsend.
• Even with antibiotics, it takes a number of days to penetrate the sinuses, so relief is slow, but definitely noticeable.

The only way to burn new behaviors into your brain is to exercise a new routine:

• The next time you see some Hottie McFuckme, instead of actively avoiding his gaze because you're insecure, force yourself to step right up to him and say something engaging.
• Like all new routines, it will feel clumsy and painful at first. The assumption is that it will begin to feel easier as you keep doing it.
• If your first instinct is to not make plans with anyone to meet and grab a bite or a social drink, solely because you're so used to being ridiculously alone, do the opposite.
• Felling less than stellar (other than if you've got something contagious like a nasty cold) should not be an excuse to not hang out with people. Gather yourself up and go.
  
• If you really start to lose steam, you can always go home.
  
• More likely, you'll make it through fine.
  
• Obviously, this doesn't apply if you feel horrifically awful in the first place - in this case, for the love of god, just stay home.

Online hookups are still kinda odd for me:

• If you hookup with a guy on-line, you should not be surprised if you find that they are married - to a woman.
• I, on the other hand, am apparently surprised by such things, and it made me feel weird.
• But I survived.
• I am vaguely beginning to get the whole on-line hooking up thing.
• I'd still rather meet the guy first before ending up at someone's house to fuck.

I, above all people, should have the final say in all my relationships with people:

• Going out to dinner with a guy one time does not mean you've signed a contract of eternal love and monogamy.
• Until there is a shift in a relationship, there is always the option to "date" more than one person.
• I didn't used to know this. I let others define my relationships.
• This is yet another thing I now need to exercise - control of my relationships.

Dealing with shit is better then avoiding:

• It pays to be honest rather than hiding from potentially uncomfortable situations.
• Sometimes it's still easier to just avoid things.
• At least for a while.
• Then ya gotta deal.

I don't like being lectured at a bar:

• Some people have a tendency to constantly talk at you rather than to you:
• "You know what you're problem is?", "You should be more like...", "Now, me, well, I'm a hot shit, you could learn a thing or two from me."
• While initially appreciating constructive criticism, I tend to zone out when being talked at for too long.
• Especially when drinking at a bar.
• I actually become very quiet and introspective... just like I was alone.
• Drinking while not talking (or breathing?) gets me drunker faster.
• It's good to know I'm learning when it's enough and time to leave. Frequently, if not always.

Increasing my social network is a good thing. Sex is nice too.

• Every time I have a fun social night, meeting some people again and others for the first time, I always feel happier the next day.
• Random sex doesn't seem to have the same effect.
• It does, however, have a very beneficial effect... just different.

This is so bizzare. Maybe with a change in mindset (which, of course, doesn't happen overnight) I should also have a change in writing style?

Because I was pretty optimistic when writing that last post, almost happy.

But that perceived happiness, in some cases, came across as... well... not so happy? Seems like the Droopy Dog thing again.

There is a truth to this. Even when looking at things improving, I tempered the possible with the somber remembrances of behaviors past and an almost cautionary tone.

It's like I'm saying to myself, "yeah, things are going in the right direction now, but... ya never know when it's gonna fuck up!"

Ya know why? Cause that is exactly what I'm saying to myself. I do it all the time.

But here's the thing. Usually... usually I only do it when I have time to think about things too much. If I'm in the moment, and if in that moment, things seem ok (I'm feeling good, I'm with people I like, I'm having great sex) then - it's all good. And even after, for a while, the future looks so bright.

I think sometimes I'm gonna have to close my eyes, even when I do have time to think, and just jump in.

Will that work?

Well, I'll see tonight, I guess.

See if the counters are reset tomorrow.

There's more than one reason they might not. But if they do... it worked.

UPDATE: Well, one of them sure did.

This might be a re-hash of something I've discussed before. But it's a still-evolving thing. I have to keep observing it as it happens to me. That's my old science background peeping out.

I seem to be socializing more, lately - at least on and off. Slowly, I guess... but it's happening - even a number of days just over the past week.

And I don't mean just walking into a bar and hoping something will happen.

I mean like mixers and things where maybe I only know one person, but I leave having had sometimes long conversations with a small handful more, and maybe some contact info is exchanged, and then I feel like there's a few more people, possibly, in my life.

Just a few... but it's more than before.

Baby steps.

In fact, it seems like there may come a time - very soon, actually - where I might have to parse out my time with others... where suddenly I won't have enough time in the week to meet with the different people I've come in contact with.

Do you realize that I've never had that in my life - at least not in Boston?

I don't think I know how to handle it if it happens...
...

How did I become so socially stunted?

I mean, over my 16 years in Boston, my circle of friends rapidly shrunk, first due to the endless hours in graduate school, then due to my own insecurities, and then due to my ex's friends basically shunning me. And then all three together.

Now, I certainly gained a little more confidence during my 2006 year-long multi-phase post-breakup tour of San Francisco. Critical to that was that I had already made friends there because of my blogging. But then other people, friends of the bloggers, would meet me and suddenly I had another friend.

To suddenly find I can walk in a room with one friend and leave having made another is, frankly astonishing to me. Basically because it never happened in my years here in Boston.

Or if it did, I couldn't see it... or it was hidden... I dunno.

The only major exception is when I met other bloggers from the New England area, I did feel extremely welcomed. But what's crazy is I think I chalked it up less to my sparkling personality or witty party conversation and more to the fact that these guys got to know me through my writing and my openness.

I hadn't considered that maybe, even if I had never written a blog, I could have walked into the same room of bloggers and still been as well received.

This is a fault in myself, I figure... That's how I viewed me: initially unlikable but if you got to know me, it'd be better.

So to actually have the same thing, where people would get to be friendly with me in just a short first meeting, happen repeatedly in Boston... well, is a minor revelation. It's no secret that this just isn't what I have associated with Boston.
...


Am I behaving differently than I did one year ago? Five years? Ten?

I know I behaved very differently around my ex and his friends. I think I was more quiet... reserved... unhappy... alone. I felt my real and best nature was being... repressed.

And then, until recently, if I went out in Boston without the ex, I'd be completely alone. I would be in my own little word. Quietly staring, drinking, thinking, drinking, feeling insecure, drinking...

But now it really does feel different.

Am I suddenly more approachable than I used to be?

Or did I just not realize that people actually might like me for who I am?
...

Somebody's bound to say I'm over-analyzing this. But I'm just thinking about it mainly because it seems kind of new for me. I am curious as to what might be different.

Don't get me wrong. I like it very much, regardless of the reasons.


But sometimes knowing why things go right is as important as knowing why they go wrong.