Basically my thoughts are this. These tops are not usually something I'd like to see on a woman. They are usually worn by women who don't wear a bra, yet should. 1. it looks painful to see the girls bouncing around, and 2. who wants to actually see the girls bouncing around. I know I'm gay and all, but I promise, that has nothing to do with it. I don't want to see a dude freeballin' it in a pair of gym shorts anymore than I want to see a woman freebreastin' it. Get it?
Saturday, December 27, 2008
I saw a woman at my restaurant tonight wearing the best outfit I have seen in awhile. Black halter type top, kind of racer back, and somewhat of an empire waist. Her jeans were black, with gold zippers running up the back of her legs, ending at her ass. Her body itself was nice, she looked like she worked out, and her face was only slightly fortunate looking, nothing exceptional. But, her hair was lacking, and the overall package was dismal.
Friday, December 26, 2008
I have decided that I'm no longer going home for Christmas. This is in no way a reflection on my family, but more a reflection on me. My family is wonderful, and to be honest, Christmas with them is the best thing I can imagine. But to go back about 9 years, I have had drama almost every single year since leaving home.
1999, Freshman year of college. My car decided to break down on December 23rd around 1130 PM. Luckily for me, I was about 6 miles away from a po-dunk little town. I had to walk, in the snow, not up hill both ways, but it was fucking cold. Granted, 1999 was long before I had a cell phone, and reception is so bad in Wyoming anyways, there was no point. However, I eventually got to a payphone, called my dad, who came and got me and we towed that fucking car home and ended up home around 330 in the morning. My dad kicks ass.
2000, Sophomore year of college. A mere few days before I'm ready to go home for xmas, some asshole decides to be a show off on icy roads and rear-ends my car, totals it, and I'm almost stranded for Xmas. Luckily for me, college was only 2 hours away, so once again, my dad rescued me and picked me up. Not SO much drama, but still enough to piss you off.
2001, Junior year of college. I had just transferred to Buffalo for school and didn't really understand the whole finals thing that my department didn't really recognize, so I had everything done almost 3 full weeks before my plane was to depart Buffalo. My ticket was purchased and everything, but who was to sit around for 3 weeks with nothing to do? Not me, so I bought a bus ticket and spent two and a half full days on the bus. The highlight of that trip was getting mugged in Chicago's glorious bus station for 50 cents and a bottle of water. Nice. And top off the trip, my sister and I had the worst fight in the history of our family and I almost flew back to Buffalo on xmas eve. I stayed and we worked it all out.
2002, Senior year of college. I think this may have been the only drama free year. Yup, it was. How boring of me.
2003, My final semester of school. I was so sick right before I left from rehearsals, after having missed several, then could only get off for two days, so I flew home and flew back. I'm sure my flight was pretty expensive. Not the most dramatic, but definitely shitty because I could only spend a few days with the fam.
2004, Living in the big city for the first time. Also, the first year I rented a car on my own. My bags were lost somewhere in the world, and I spent most of my trip crying because I thought all the gifts I'd bought were lost somewhere and no one would get anything from me. I fought on the phone with my parents on the way up. I later found out that I made my mother cry. Not the best thing to do.
2005, Still living in NYC. I pissed my mom off royally when I buzzed all of my curly hair off because I just needed a change. It worked out for the better for me. Meanwhile I got something in my eye and found out later I had a piece of dirt that lightly scratched my eyeball, thank God I had insurance. So, if you look closely at the pictures from this holiday, my right eye is all fucked up.
2006, Once again living in NYC. This Christmas was mostly drama free. I had booked a show so I was able to quit my job just before leaving to go home and had a week free with nothing to do between xmas and leaving on Jan 2 for Illinois. A perfect year. :)
2007, I was home for 6 weeks. Granted it was with my family, but it sucked because I had been on tour and got injured. So I had 6 weeks with a HUGE ugly boot on my foot, my sister calling me "boy," and driving back and forth to the doctor every week in a town that I wasn't even staying in. Overall, the time I spent with my fam was great, it was cool that I was getting unemployment, but really shitty that I had to leave my job behind. OH yeah, and it was the first year we were minus someone in our family. My florida sister didn't come home last year.
2008, back in the city. This year sucked. I overslept and missed my flight on Tuesday morning, and thankfully, the previous week had been such shitty weather that every flight was oversold and had too many people waiting from earlier cancelled flights trying to get on. So, I spent Christmas this year in NYC, mostly alone. I do have wonderful friends who all offered to have me come home with their families. However, I know that it seems dumb, but I'd rather be alone missing my family than with a family that is awesome because I'd just miss my family even more and I don't want to be the emotional guy that everyone has to feel sorry for. I did have an awesome dinner on Christmas eve with Nick and Tasha! Then yesterday was a fun filled day of the movies, dinner and a friend's bar. So, it worked out as best as it could.
I've since decided that I'm not longer doing Christmas in December. I seem to have to go through so much bullshit just to get home and I'm done. I love my family very much, but I'm now going to go home in August when there is no school, so my sisters can't argue they have to get back for something haha. And overall, there isn't much weather to contend with. So, I'll be doing that. They can jump on board or not, but that's how it's going to be from now on.
There is a lot going on right now that I'm trying to process. Christmas wasn't exactly what I wanted it to be this year, but I'm dealing. So, once I figure it all out, I'll write some more. Just haven't felt like it much. So for the five of you who read this, I'll have some new stuff soon. For those of you who don't read it, it's funny, just when I think I'm done, something random happens and my heart drops, and I wonder how much longer 'til I'm over it?
Anywho, Merry Christmas all!
Friday, December 19, 2008
I came home from work tonight and guess what I saw. Two glasses of water next to my bed from when you stayed with me wednesday night. On the floor is the stack of movies I made you watch. On top of them lie the clothes I had to dress you in the day after you were wasted, uncharacteristic in your behavior, and yet still adorable. Aside from those few things, you almost aren't here.
Yet, the blue on the walls makes me think of the night you came over and helped me paint. The ribbon of brown woven into my blue sheets makes me think of the beauty of your eyes. And if I stop and smell with my eyes closed, I can still smell you on them.
Almost everything in life seems to remind me of you, yet I am not on board. I don't know why.
This morning I went to the gym and I saw another "you." A different "you." One I hadn't seen in awhile, and while I looked, I realized my mistakes, yet again, and wished for a different outcome. I used to wish I had made different choices to have kept that "you" in my life, but now I wish I had made the right choices to have only known "you" as a friend. We tried to be friends, but it almost seemed as if I were still despised and could never be seen for who I truly am. I was hidden from others as if it were a big secret we were hanging out. So, we can't be friends just yet. Maybe one day.
There are more "you's" in my life than I wish, but the number isn't what matters to me. I sit here now and I think about something that happened to me on Wednesday. I worked a party at my job for a religious group. I know that sounds, most likely, very corny, but, sometimes I think that life presents you with situations that you need to have. But, I digress. There was a moment when a man got up and spoke. Everything he said are things that I have known, but for some reason, that day was the day that I knew I needed to pay attention.
He talked about love. He said that the only way to never get your heart broken is to never give it away. You keep it locked up in a casket and eventually it becomes impenetrable and unbreakable. People do this for many reasons, but as Christians, we need to be able to give of ourselves because that is the nature of what we are here for. To love and cherish our brothers (and sisters, i suppose). We need to make ourselves vulnerable to truly understand each other and to truly love one another. And while this is a scary thing, it's the right thing to do.
It was when I heard him speaking, while blocking out the Christian bits, I realized that I've always had my heart locked away. Even as a child I did this. I remember being young and always knowing that my parents loved me, but not knowing really how to love them back. Even now, I think that I'm still a little hesitant about it. Yet, I know that I was affectionate. I LOVED hugs, (and still do if anyone ever wants one) and gave them frequently. Yet, there always felt some sort of guard I had up.
In college, I dated a "you" that, luckily, I'm still very close friends with. He always said to me, "I love you and I can tell you love me, but there is just this little part of your heart that you're keeping to yourself and I don't know why I don't get to have all of you." I knew then that I was keeping it all to myself because I didn't truly think I had found "the one." Good lord, that dreaded thought. How awful to meet someone who wants nothing more than to love you for the rest of your life! How terrible!
What's even more weird is how I have really close friends that, at times, I don't feel truly know me. And vice versa. However, we all love each other dearly and such, but it's just this tiny little feeling that we don't really know each other as well as we may have thought. It's not a bad thing, it's just the nature of life sometimes. Or maybe it doesn't have to be. Maybe it's ok if we open ourselves up to others. Maybe it's ok to start trusting our friends. Maybe it's ok to let them obsess about little details we think might be prying, but they feel it's just being concerned. Maybe it's ok to let them love you. And maybe, just maybe it's ok to let them go.
I don't know. Some days I'm sentimental and weep at the dumbest thing. The next day I'm hard and closed off and don't know which way is up or down. And then there are the days like today, when I am depressed for no reason, want nothing more than to be loved, and feel so empty. These are the days that are the most difficult. They don't seem to last long, but when they hit, they hit hard.
I had a conversation with an ex recently. He said to me, "A cute guy is in love with you. Yeah, your life is SO hard."
The spirit of that conversation has in a way, kept me in check. I know it might have been difficult for that particular ex to say that to me, as he was referencing someone else, but, I don't know. When someone is perfect for you in every way imaginable, you expect it to just happen. But what happens when you're still conflicted about what you want, know that you love him, but still just might not be willing to let it happen just now? What do you do then?
I know there is someone out there who loves me. I know him by name. I know him by face, smell, touch, sound, every sense that we know. I feel him with me, in my heart, but I still hesitate. I wonder if I'm making a mistake by keeping him around and not setting him free. I wonder constantly about him. Things that just keep me more and more conflicted everyday. It's tiresome and it's boring. And for now, I leave it at that. It's unknown, it can't be controlled, it just has to be. And if I can't just "be" with it, then I have to leave it behind.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
I am commonly asked, "Where are you from?" By various people intrigued on why I moved to NYC, or by people I've met in the city who are just curious about me or making small talk. For all of them, I have a simple answer that no matter what, always gets a response; "Wyoming." That's all I have to say and questions come gushing.
However, lately, I've been wondering when I would just start telling people that I simply live in Harlem. There's something I love about the novelty of being from such a foreign place. No, it's not a foreign country, but most people I've met wouldn't even be able to point it out on a map. I'm sure some people reading this would think that's insane, but stop and think for a minute, do you really know where Wyoming is? Or do you just think you're that smart? Sometimes I try to tell people that I'm from Harlem, and they immediately ask, "But, where is HOME?"
So this got me thinking about what makes a home a home. Of course, there's the standard thought of "home is where the heart is" bullshit. Others think of home as the place they grew up, while some think of it as where they are currently, which follows back to the where the heart is. But, I never had a house that I grew up in. I have friends who have parents who have lived in the same house for about 30 years or more. We moved every few years. And, I move apts a lot in NYC because I keep getting acting jobs and rarely people want to live with actors because we sublet a lot. So, what makes it so special?
A few years ago, my parents moved to Canada (western side north of Calgary.) I live in NYC. My oldest sister lives in my hometown in Wyoming with her husband and kids, while my other sister lives in Florida with her husband. Yes, we're MASSIVELY spread out. Kind of sucks. Some people think that's a good thing, but when you hang out with my family, you understand that my family is amazing.
So having said that, I've begun to realize that my home is now often thought of as my sister's house in Wyoming. It's kind of our central hub of gatherings and what-nots. And last year, I was blessed to spend roughly six weeks living in that house. I got my niece and nephews' birthdays, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. Granted, one sister was missing, but, I got the time.
So, That's when I realized how central her place was. But, what really got to me was this year I flew to Denver to be with all of my family, then we all flew down to Florida when my sister got married. The best thing is that I realized home isn't where I live in NYC, it's not ever my sister's house in Wyoming. Home is my family. It's not a home is where your heart is for me. Home is where my family is. Us together is more fun than I can explain. You have to belong to a family like mine to understand what the dynamic is like. But, rest assured, I'm a lucky boy and better for it.
So whether I go on to start my own family or not, move a thousand more times, I know that I do have a home, no matter what.
Thursday, December 4, 2008
For a long time, I thought someone was writing about me. It turns out they weren't. And when I finally figured it out, it kind of hurt some, but I know I'll be fine. I know that I held onto something much longer than I needed to, but like I said, I'll be fine.
Relationships can be tricky. Sometimes weird. But, what's funny is that when it's over, you find things you miss that you never realized at that moment. Well, I know that I did, so I can't say that people don't realize these moments as they're happening. I miss being made breakfast. I miss chugging a bottle of wine while watching a shitty horror movie and then having sex and cuddling all night. I miss someone reaching for me that I didn't think would like me in the first place. I miss nights of sitting on the terrace and reading. I miss someone calling me on my bullshit. I miss you hugging me and telling me how you missed me, but in that moment thinking, "wow, this person likes me. how did I ever get so lucky?"
But, all that happens before I fuck it up. Yup, I am officially the guy you're mother warns you about. I'm the one who will break your heart, so it's better that you don't fall in love, because I won't fall in love back. I just don't. I can't explain it. I know that I am capable of loving. I know that I have walked away from love twice this year. Once was a mistake(left because I was in love-still dealing with it), and once was a necessity(we just couldn't get on the same page). I don't enjoy breaking people. I don't revel in the fact that I am more comfortable being single and alone than I ever have been in a relationship. I do regret some choices, however. I regret not being more honest with my college boyfriend. I regret not telling my first boyfriend to go and fuck himself, meanwhile holding onto the thought that he'd come back to me. But, that was high school, and it's ten years later, so who's holding on? HAHA. I regret letting one situation go to far. I regret dating someone for his benefit and not mine. I regret that I've lost motivation to keep myself going after a career that seems failed. (however, i'm much more positive these days.) And I regret not making you breakfast the last morning I spent with you. I don't regret pushing forward for what I want, however, I'm sure one day I'll regret telling someone how I really feel about him, but when you don't feel the same, you just don't, so I can't keep forcing something that's just not there.
There are some people who believe things about me to be untrue. There are others who are waiting for the other shoe to drop. Well to those who believe the untrue, stop believing. I've already told you the truth. And to the one who's waiting for the other shoe, it's not coming. Why? Because I told you everything. It's up to you to decide. To those who think I will change one day, I won't. Well, maybe I will. Maybe we just weren't meant to be. But, I can't sit by and watch you with me anymore. I can't let you keep thinking things will get better between when they won't. It's not fair.
And to others. I have enjoyed shopping and experiencing life with you. Hearing about your troubles and trials and all that. But, when you're ready to hear mine, then I'll be ready for you. Or maybe I'm ready now and I'm just to sinister to notice. For now, I'm content being single. I might not always feel that way, but why not wait for what you want? And since I don't know, I wait.