the little gold one
We watched the Oscars last night. The roommate and I had a little party spread put out should anybody decide to drop by and watch them with us. Oh what a spread. Mac-n-Cheeze, Chili dip, taco-chili dip, nibbly things everywhere.
The red-carpet event is a veritable bitch-fag’s delight. Catty comments about this actress’ dress, hair and make-up, immediately followed with gushing proclamations of love over that actor and his tuxedo.
I had to distance myself after a few minutes lest I take to bitching along with them. I’m trying something new. Positive thought.
Yeah, that thing where you don’t allow yourself to judge another person negatively for their look or actions.
I hear its very “Jesus-like”. I figure with the religious fanatics throwing his name around and all, that if I live by example, it might just rub off on someone.
well, that was until I had to make that nasty remark about Beyonce. I mean c’mon girl you had a fucking chandelier around your neck!
February 24, 2005
The Friends post
Yesterday, I ranted, cried, and complained about my friends. Today, I’m going to share a few pictures of my friends. Its funny what happens when you write about something. The power it held over you is released and you can see past the garbage to what is really important.
My friends mean the world to me. They are my family in more ways than I can ever list. So here, are my friends (in no particular order of importance)
The Republican
The Litte Brown One
Crazy Alan
Mik
Brian
JJB
The CD
CHI-man and David
Dane and Adolfo
Anonymous Padre
Ken
New Friend Moby
The German MR
and of course:
Married Well
Putting this list together made me realize two things.
1.) I’m amazingly blessed with the people in my life that I call “friends”
2.) I need to take more pictures, cause there are a whole lot more people that I don’t have digital pictures of, like TL, Larzy, Emmalola, and I could go on…
Maybe this will balance things out in my kharma spectrum from yesterday.
Thanks Friends!
February 23, 2005
Are you a sucker or a blower?
I had an interesting conversation with The Little Brown One a few minutes ago that kind of put my current dilemma into perspective. There was this crazy woman in San Francisco named “Rebecca” that had a unique philosophy about people. (She also threw an amazing White Trash Themed Party that has left an indelible mark on my soul.) Her philosophy is that you’re either a SUCKER or a BLOWER.
If you’re a sucker, you tend to suck the life force out of people, always taking, always making things about yourself while showing only rudimentary interest in other people’s lives. The crisis talk is always about you, about your life and about your needs. You take. You take energy to deal with. You take energy to be with. You take and you take and when there is no more to take, you move on to the next victim to wait for the first to recover.
If you’re a blower, you give. Your heart is open and full of love to give. You mentor, you calm, you nurture and empathize. You listen with your entire being because its what is needed of you and its what you have to give. Your guidance is usually top notch and filled with the spirit and wisdom, garnered from your own experiences and the lives of those around you. You are a well of strength others draw from.
Most people hover someplace in the middle, jumping from side to side given the needs of their current situation.
Living in San Francisco all those years allowed me the perspective to see both categories of people living and loving. The energy of the area is infused with positive energy and hope towards the future. I can’t really put it into words other than to say, if you calm yourself and allow yourself to feel the energy of the Bay Area, there is no way you cannot be inspired to greatness, however you measure it.
When I moved to Chicago, I did so on an impulse. I was living in a temporary hotel near O’Hare International Airport within one month of being offered the position that brought me here. Everything happened very quickly. One day I was thinking about biking across the Golden Gate Bridge the following weekend, the next, I was planning a going-away party to say “Good Bye” to my friends instead of the bike ride. The whole thing left me reeling.
Jump ahead 4 years to the recent posts on this here website. The talk of moving to San Francisco, of leaving Chicago and the cold behind to return to my beloved city by the bay.
I returned from San Francisco irritable. I snapped at everything, I was depressed, I started to over-eat to fill the void I’ve felt in my heart. Yeah I know, food fills the stomach, not the heart. details! Today, while talking with TLBO it hit me. I can’t move. I’m not done here in Chicago yet. Something brought me here. Something I’ve yet to figure out.
The Republican has been going through hell the past few weeks, the move, the breakup, the business crap, there’s more, but I needn’t get into it. She started taking from me. My energy, my empathy, my time, my ear and my heart. My heart leapt out to her in her time of need. I wanted to be there for her. I wanted to make it all ok. I wanted to be the strength she needed for this event in her life, as others were there for me when it happened to me. (Damn you Cowboy!!) I got the urge to move there, and quickly, to be with her, to be a friend to her. I can’t do that though. Because to do that, would make my life not OK.
I’m very lonely here in Chicago. I have friends. Good friends. But alot of them lately have become “Suckers”, sucking the very life out of me. My spirit is tired. I don’t sleep. I don’t dream. I’m too busy recovering from the drama in other people’s lives to have the energy to get through my own problems and crisis. I never seem to have time to have a break-down of my own and when I do, there is nobody there to listen to me. When Do I get to have the support?
I love them too much to hurt them and not be available for them, but where do I draw the line? Where do I say “This has to stop, I can’t give anymore”?
Now I know I’ve only given the example of The Republican. The fact that she is a Republican is the ONLY reason I’m shining the negative spotlight on her. I love and adore her and will always be there for her and she knows this. So allow me this self-indulgent moment to address my friends.
To my friends:
I am lucky to have you in my life. I’m a thankful you are there. I will be there for you if you ever need me. I will listen when you truly need me. I will drop what I’m doing to laugh at you when you are in jail or have fallen down drunk. I will give you the clothes off my back.* Every once in a while though, call me, ask me to a movie, ask me to dinner, the theatre, the beach, a friend’s party. While we’re doing this, lets not hash through drama and crisis. Lets enjoy each other’s company and respectfully interact with each other. Lets talk over a bottle of wine, or a few beers. Take the time to get to know me, who I am, what makes me tick, because that’s what I’m doing with you. I’m learning about who you are, what makes you the person you are, how you got to be so amazing and why you comb your hair that way.
I’m not perfect, I’m a sucker alot of the time too. Everyone needs to have someone to lean on and listen to them. I’m asking for a little more give and take. From both sides.
*Hugo Boss suit excluded
February 22, 2005
follow-up
I figured I’d give it some time before posting to allow my tens of readers a chance to e-mail with photos of themselves to me at (removed to avoid spam) I do have this to say… based on the photos of the two gentlemen that responded, the naked pictures I’ve already received and the in-person meeting I’ve already had, I’ve got beautiful handsome fucking hot readers.
Help prove this little fact correct. I won’t even mind naked pictures. Trust me, I’ll suffer through.
February 19, 2005
I wanna know
I want to know what my readers look like. After arranging a meeting with Moby this evening, and while waiting for the moment to arrive, it makes me wonder who else is reading my words.
Unless you prefer to remain annonymous, I’d love for you to e-mail me a photo of yourself.
Mail it to removed to avoid spam
*sits back and watches the pictures flood in*
What ?!?!?
Her response stopped me dead in my tracks.
“What???” I said.
“That’s the most bizzare thing I’ve ever seen.” came the reply.
“What?!?” I said.
“You missed your eggs and were salting your mellon balls.” giving me a frightened look.
“And?” I said.
“That’s crazy!” The Republican said.
“You’ve never had salted mellon?” I asked.
“No, thats disgusting” she retorted.
The conversation melted down from there, with me trying to get her to try my salted mellon balls and her distinctly refusing.
If I were a straight man, you might think I was talking about something else; but I’m gay and we were indeed discussing mellons.
February 16, 2005
perhaps one day I’ll learn
I think the words of my Horoscope speak for themselves:
Cancer: (June 22—July 22)
It’s true that secret agents have crossed international borders with microfilm hidden in their colons, but you should’ve known better than to try it with three liters of duty-free scotch.
The sad part is I don’t even drink Scotch.
February 15, 2005
and let me tell you something else, Ms. Oprah…
Oprah lied to me.
I was sitting here at my computer last weekend pondering the question “who am I?” when I stumbled on a solution.
I’ll ask Oprah. She knows all that emotional mumbo-jumbo and well, if she doesn’t, I can rely on her staff of experts paraded across my television/computer screen. I visited her web-site and typed in the words “who am I really? and was provided with the answer in the form of a specially written page telling me exactly who I am.
Quick, finish this sentence: “I am a ________.”
What popped into your mind? Did you immediately think of your job title? Did you identify yourself with a relationship term, like wife, daughter, or Elvis fan? Maybe you described your body (”I am a svelte size 10″), your personality (”I am an optimist”), or your favorite hobby (”I am a heavy drinker”).
Identity labels like these are useful, even necessary. They shape the way we act and feel (and the way people act and feel toward us) in every situation, from taking the bus to taking a lover. But many labels are misleading, and none can fully describe the multifaceted reality that is a human being. Moreover, any external criteria we use to label ourselves—looks, power, health, relationships, anything—can disappear in a heartbeat. So really, the only way to avoid a lot of insecurity, fear, and suffering is to learn how to wear our identities lightly and let go of them easily.
How To Let Go
Step 1: Be still.
The process of releasing your labels without losing yourself begins in stillness. If we hold still long enough, we begin to feel what we really feel and to know what we really know—a prospect so terrifying that some people bolt rather than face it.Step 2: Become the experience-er, not the experience.
All great wisdom traditions point to the knowledge that the essence of our true selves is not any fixed label but the capacity to experience.Step 3: Practice truth in labeling.
Our belief in labels, not the labels themselves, is what gives them the power to influence our behavior. Knowing how to let go of any given identity without losing our essential selves yields a security we’ll never get from fame, power, money, beauty, or any other personality prop.By stilling our bodies and minds, becoming the One Who Experiences, and playing with labels the way we might play with costumes, we can remain ourselves no matter what happens: loss or gain, pain or pleasure, fame or disrepute.
Following the advice of Ms. Oprah Ms. Oprah’s hired staff, I sat, experienced and labeled.
I realize that I perhaps need to put more than 20 minutes into this excersice, but the result I came up with to the question “Who am I?” was this:
A sore ass, a hang-over and little bits of tape with words like “loser”, “fat” and “fugly” covering me.