sometimes I hate the gym

Sometimes I hate the gym. Other than playing a bit of tennis while growing up I never really physically exerted myself (at least intentionally) at all until I was around 27. Then I moved into a high-rise building downtown that had a workout room on the top floor.
It was at the same time I was starting my first big professional job, I was coming out all over the place (gay-wise) and I decided it was time I started acting like a real gay man and become overly-obsessed with my body.
For about three years I worked out for about 20-45 minutes a couple of times a week. I'm sure it was good for me, but I really didn't see much of a change. Now that I'm in my new building I've started shooting for 60-90 minutes four times a week. It sucks, but I'm going to stick to it. I know I have to be patient to see real results, but I want to be hot now!!!

Clearly, I can be an impatient person and a lot of stuff gets on my nerves. Especially when it comes to the gym. Now, granted, I don't have to go to one of those big, huge gyms with tons and tons of equipment and all sorts of twats, and I do feel lucky about not having to deal with all that riff raff, but annoying things do happen even in my little workout room.
It's pretty small and has some free weights and some weight machines and junk, a stairmaster, an elliptical machine, a stationary bike, and three treadmills. That's it.

After a few months of really trying to work out a lot, I've started to feel infuriated with several specific things:

The chicks who use the elliptical machine with no resistance at all. Their limbs are flying about as if independent from their body. It's so ridiculous. It's not an amusement park ride for fuck's sake. You're supposed to be working against a little resistance so you're actually getting a workout! And it's not just one chick. It's a bunch of them.
Also, it's really not fair to use the only elliptical machine we have for an hour and a half at one time. ESPECIALLY when you're really not getting a true workout because you have the resistance set on zero. Ya'll look like goddamn Olive Oyls. Bitches.

The guys who come up just to use the weights and then strut over to the water fountain between every set.
*Lift, lift, lift, lift. Walk to water fountain. Sip. Walk back to weights. Lift, lift, lift, lift. Walk back to water fountain. Sip. And so on.*
Stupid full-of-themselves muscleheads.

The random assholes that come up to the workout room just to take a huge, stinky shit in the workout room bathroom which then wafts through the whole space, or those who seemingly come up just to watch whatever is on the T.V. I had a guy in there a couple weeks ago who just stood there and watched the football game THE WHOLE TIME I was working out. I came thisclose to punching him in the neck.

The people who don't sweat. I hate you.
You can't miss me at the gym. I'm the guy who looks like I just had two and a half buckets of water dumped over my head. Hi there! I'm a sweathog! Hi!!

The people who leave the equipment all sticky. This is just nast. Just because there are no official rules about cleaning up after yourself doesn't mean that chaos and sticky sweat rule. Bitches.

The people who work out in jeans or jean shorts - get the fuck out. In fact, if you're in jean shorts period just do everyone a favor and take a nice, long nap in your running car in a closed garage.
OH! Zing!

The television I'm subjected to. With guys it's always got to be sports. Or SportsCenter.
With chicks, god only knows what you may be subjected to.
Some of the shows women at the gym have worked out to: Grease II; Friends; Everybody Loves Raymond; Moulin Rouge; some sort of Lifetime movie that takes place on a mountain and involves a woman endlessly screaming at the top of her lungs while violins screech; The Parent Trap (the L.L. version); and Law & Order reruns…blah! Who wants to watch Law & Order at the gym??
There's only one thing I want to watch, if anything, while I'm working out. The news. Any kind of news. That's it. And I'm using my iPod, so I don't need the T.V. volume cranked up to an obscene, ear-piercing level like all of you do. Bitches.

I could probably go on and on with this list. Honestly, I'm actually only slightly crabby in my everyday life, but when I'm working out I become very easily irritated.
But despite all the potential ways I could be pissed off in a typical workout session I can't stop.
After all, I don't work out because I love it. I do it because I have to – otherwise, I'll be a manatee in about five years when my metabolism finally gives out for good. And my damn genetics dictate that I'm supposed to have a size 40 waist - as you can see below....

My sis, my dog, my dad, my cousin and overweight adolescent Matt sometime in the late 80's/early 90's.

Overweight adolescent Matt. Right after this was taken I blew out the candles and dove headfirst into the cake. Just kidding. 

Me now. Well, actually last winter. It's cool that my head is now about half the size it was when I was 14.
I think I rock the winter beard in a sexy way....

meh

I woke up with a severe uneasy chill this morning.
Couldn't quite put my finger on it.

Then I realized - Bush is in Denver today.

*shiver*

He's here to help one of Satan's little helpers - Republican Rep. Marilyn Musgrove - raise money to continue her various evil missions, one of which is to stop committed gays from ever having the chance to get married.

Blech - I can feel the I.Q. of the city dropping even as I type this....

picture madness

I had a work assignment this weekend. I was charged with the task of finding something that "depicts how you lose track of time in this world of schedules which consumes us." It's for some kind of office display. And since turning in a picture of a bottle of tequila or a joint or a cock isn't considered entirely acceptable in the professional working world I decided to take a picture of my favorite bookstore, the Tattered Cover - where I've spent many hours in a comfy chair, listening to tunes, poring over the collected works of Socrates… er, or US Weekly – whatever.
Then under the influence of digital camera-fever I snapped a few pics of my neighborhood – the area between I-25 and Union Station. Then I walked into my apartment and caught Ernest in the act of stalking my latte. And THEN I started taking pictures of myself in the bathroom mirror – which is practically a staple of any gay man's profile on any gay-related site – but I had never done before. It's hard! Basically I just wanted to show the results of my $40 - $40!! – haircut from Friday. I think from now on I'll just stick to the $20 Floyd's haircut. It looks exactly the same. And takes roughly half the time.

So, now I'm no longer a taking-pictures-of-myself-with-a-digital-camera-in-the-bathroom-mirror-trying-to-look-cool-but-not-TOO-cool-for-school virgin. Maybe next time I'll work up the courage to do it with my clothes off? Ha – you wish!

Night falls in Denver - the end to another lovely weekend.... 

Me and my expensive new haircut. (this was the only semi-decent shot out of about 20 - blech!)

The devastation.... 

Argghh - cat cooties! Hee hee - he thinks he's people!

Ahhh - Ernie likes to rub the lid on his head....

Junkie. 

Uh-oh. Ernie found the Starbucks! 

Here you can see the bridge I cross to get into downtown. Commons Park is a nice little park, but covered in dog shit and piss and discarded homeless people's clothes from top to bottom. 

Turned around looking back at downtown. The white building in the middle is where I used to live - on the 19th floor. Great views and nice rooftop pool, but crazy-as-shit roommate! 

Just outside of downtown looking toward where I live. It's the complex just past the park. This little courtyard has a couple restaurants, a cool coffee shop, and my dry cleaner. And rich-bitch condos. 

The Tattered Cover bookstore at the north end of downtown. 

quiet musings on a chilly November morn...

Sorry to the two or three people who actually read this blog - I haven't written much this week.
(Just kidding – I know I have at least three or four readers out there.)
I've been in a little bit of an isolationist funk this week. No specific reason really. It's been cold here (well, relatively speaking – cold for Denver anyway) and I've been going home and hiding out every night. Not too exciting – my life.

A few random thoughts:
*I'm feeling very irritated with F.B. because he took a digital picture of Thom and I on Sunday morning and I want to get my hands on it. Unfortunately, he wasn't answering my calls, responding to my e-mails or text messages, or even writing me on connexions (the lowest, easiest, sexiest form of communication). I was left to conclude that he was deliberately ignoring me. And I honestly couldn't figure out why. I thought maybe he was pissed I didn’t spend the night last weekend, or maybe he believed that when Thom and I left in the cab that morning we went back to his hotel and hooked up or something.
Besides, we're fuck buddies. I'm not SUPPOSED to spend the night.
So it actually turns out that he's a huge, HUGE asshole.
He finally wrote me on connexions yesterday and said I don't get my picture until I get B. to pay him back for a couple vases B. broke at his place while in a drunken frenzy forever ago. I wrote back and said I promised to try my best and may I now have my picture pretty please, and he said:

"nope you get the dueche to cough up the dough first! ;p
He'll pay my friend Jack .."JACK THE GLASSBLOWER WHO BLOWS MORE THAN GLASS!" -as I affectionatley refer to him."

So that's it. Now I'm furious. Who in the fuck does he think he is putting me in the middle of this bullshit? That's just fucking weak. And the more I thought about it last night the more pissed I got. It's not my fault that B. broke his vases. I wasn't even there. I just happen to be friends with both of them. And now he's basically blackmailing me. Of course, on the other hand, I really want my picture of Thom…but christ. I don't want to have to go to B. and scold him and then cajole him into paying. That's not my goddamn responsibility. Ugh.
I'm kicking my fuck buddy to the curb! So long sucker! It's better this way. Not only is he manipulative, but he can't spell for shit. And his cock isn't big enough anyway. ZING!
*I found out I was right about my coworker. She is knocked up. Boy, do I have the eye or what? Maybe I could work for US Weekly and predict which celebs are pregnant.
*We had our work Thanksgiving feast yesterday. Everybody brought in something to share and we all pigged out. Yum.
But I stupidly went and put my trust in our IT guy to supply our contribution to the meal. Wednesday afternoon I mentioned how I was going to have to pick up something on my way home, and he said he was going to be stopping by the grocery store anyway, so I should just give him some money and he'd buy something for the both of us. Then yesterday morning (about an hour before lunch) he told me he forgot to get something for us.
What an idiot! I told him to run to Walgreens and grab a can of mixed nuts or something – ANYTHING – and he just laughed and continued reading his stupid ESPN.com.
After all the hours I've spent listening to his pathetic stories of chasing women half his age around the suburbs you would think he owes me a little more.
And he hasn't even mentioned giving me my money back yet.
Damn you IT guy – you've fucked me over once again!!
*Next week I only have to work three days! Four-day weekend baby!
*I've officially jumped into learning Flash. I've had it on my computer for over half a year, but it just seemed so hard. But now I'm determined to learn it by Xmas! I'm sick of PowerPoint!
*I randomly saw a really hot guy on connexions this morning, but he listed Sweet November as one of his favorite movies. Ewww. The only other movie he listed was Original Sin.
Isn't that strange? Out of all the movies in the world he chose Sweet November? Sweet November?? WTF?
Amazing abs, though.
*Well, I stayed in every night this week. Part of the reason was because it's been really cold out at night and I just want to stay in and be cozy. Another reason is because I'm hoping to go to the Bahamas next spring and I'm really trying to get in shape – so if I stay in I'll work out and not drink so much. I've got six months to get into killer shape! (Although, right now I am eating chocolate chip-peanut butter cookies and leftover pie from yesterday's lunch for breakfast – ACK!)
Also, they just opened a new men's salon in the building I live in and I stopped by Wednesday night and spent way too much money on clothes. And I made an appointment to get my hair cut tonight (for way more $ than I usually spend on a haircut). So I have to make up for those expenses by living a bit more frugally. I can't wait to wear my smokin' new shirt though!!

notes from the weekend

All right kiddies – I've come roaring back from the brink of death (i.e. my sad, pathetic extended two-week cold)!

Thursday night I must have unknowingly been exposed to some sort of natural gas leak that fucked me up in the head, because I convinced myself that going to JR's for a few 50-cent Bud Lights was a good idea.
As anyone who has been to JR's on 50-cent Bud Light night knows, it actually resembles the deepest, darkest corner of hell. Around 10:00 people start flooding in (where do all these fags/fag hags/dykes/straight-people-who-wish-they-were-gay come from?) and by 11:00 you can't move. There's no way you're going to be able to get a drink in under 15 minutes, it's very hot and smoky and hard to breathe, you're bound to bump into about five ex-hook-ups that you never wanted to see again, and you might as well forget about finding your friends in that madness.
Pros of the night: I got to the gym, finished in time to watch Survivor (bu-bye intelligence-equivalent of a sack of rocks Bobby Jon!!) and made it to JR's by 8:30. So I got a good five beers down the hatch before I had to flee in horror and sweatiness at 11:30.
Cons of the night: Mmm – none really. I even convinced the bartender to give me one of the highly-coveted real-glass glasses instead of setting me up with the lame plastic kegger glass. B. was denied the same treatment. Maybe he needs to start being nicer to people and then he'd get nice, shiny things like I do.
On the other hand, maybe not. His cruel treatment of the mentally and physically-deficient provides me with endless hours of glee.

Friday after work I caught a killer nap, watched Best Week Ever, and then headed out to meet B. It was just one of those lovely evenings where I saw a bunch of my favorite people at the bar, got fairly intoxicated but not wasted or out of control, and got to do some serious flirting with a couple cuties without succumbing to the temptation of a random one-night stand.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not laying off the one-night stands forever or anything like that – duh! - I'm just playing it cool for a while. Looking for that Mr. Right. Again. You know?
Speaking of that, I hung out with my ex for the first time since we broke up in August. And things were pretty comfortable. He just broke up with the guy he had been seeing since we ended things, so I think he was a little bummed and vulnerable. I really like him a lot and enjoy his company, so I'm glad things are going to be cool between us.
Pros of the night: They were giving away samples of the new Cuervo Dark at the bar. To me, it basically tasted like tequila mixed with fruit punch – which is gross – but I love tequila and it was free!
Oh – and I got a job lead from one of my friends. Apparently, there's a P.R./marketing communications firm located a couple blocks from where I'm working now, run by an older gay couple. Rad!
Cons of the night: I hadn't been out and about at the gay bars for almost three weeks, so I hadn't seen my buddy K. and heard his awful Halloween story. He came out of a gay bar all dressed up in some sort of gay Saran Wrap costume (don't ask – I couldn't figure out what the hell he was talking about), and when he was walking to his car some trash starting yelling offensive things at him from another car. He walked up to the car to confront the people and got bashed in the face with brass knuckles. His front teeth were knocked out and his face was all sorts of fucked-up.
He claims to be OK, but I can't even imagine that happening to me. I feel so bad for him.
Fucking gay-bashers.

Saturday was a beautiful, perfect fall day here in Denver. I got up, ate lunch at Wahoo's, hung at the Tattered Cover for a couple hours, took a little walk, and went to the gym.
I had previously agreed to meet Fuck Buddy at JR's that night. We met up, did a little inappropriate groping, and ended up going to Tracks. Sometimes Tracks is a little annoying and overwhelming for me, but I actually had a really good time that night.
I saw Paul go-go dancing. Looking hot Paul!
We went back to F.B.'s place at closing time and starting messing around on the couch. Just when he had gotten my pants off we heard someone yelling his name from the street. Turns out it was none other than Thom from Queer Eye for the Straight Guy and his manager.
Seriously.
I'm still not really sure how they got there – if F.B. knew him from a previous occasion or if F.B. had just approached him at the club or what. I had heard someone say he was hanging at Tracks that night, but I hadn't seen him.
So I ended up hanging with Thom. He is an awesome guy – so witty and funny and sweet.
Yep – I have quite the crush on him. Quite the crush.
We were at F.B.'s until about 6 a.m., then Thom and I caught a cab back downtown. He probably thinks I'm a complete freak because for some reason I started going on and on and on about how much I love Steel Magnolias. He loves it too, but I can get a little too animated when talking about Steel Magnolias.
By the time I got home it was almost 7 a.m. I love staying out late but hate seeing the sun come up. Gives me an icky, I've-gone-too-far kind of feeling.
Pros of the night: Thom.
Cons of the night: Ran into stalker-esque ex-one-night-stand at Tracks. I got him to buy me a shot (and then he goes and buys Tewalka – ugh! is that even how you spell that shit??) which can only be an encouraging sign to an obsesso like him. Couldn't help it. I was broke. Then he tried to kiss me. I fled.

Sunday I slept until about 11:30, then camped out on my couch ALL AFTERNOON watching Gilmore Girls. Uh-huh. FIVE HOURS of G.G. That may have been a bit too much for a G.G. neophyte like me, but at least now I am able to semi-intelligently discuss the ups and downs of the lives of Lorelai and Rory.
I did eventually wander over to Starbucks just to get a little fresh air and some soy latte-action and call Jen, but I was back on my couch by 6:00 for 60 Minutes. Saw the most horrible story on what's going on over in Pakistan post-earthquake. Those people are really in a lot of trouble.
So, yeah. Real productive day.
Pros of the day: Lots of mental relaxation time. And lots and lots of computer solitaire.
Cons of the day: Was forced to watch the preview for Shadows in the Sun, some piece of shit ABC Family movie, over and over and over and over during G.G. commercial breaks. Honestly, I must have seen that preview…let's see, say 5-6 commercial breaks during an hour episode for approximately five hours. Oh my. 25-30 times! Stupid Joshua Jackson. Stupid Shadows in the Sun.

OMG – there are some seriously dark and scary clouds moving into downtown right now. I guess we're in for a snowstorm. Brrrr! Too bad – I've been loving this warm fall we've been having!

i heart lists

I found the following list in this month's Radar magazine.
Check out #23!

Formerly Endearing, Now Scary

1. Disneyland
2. Katie Couric
3. MTV2
4. Paula Abdul
5. The Weather Channel
6. Beck
7. The cast of That 70's Show
8. The cast of Seinfeld
9. Ringtones
10. Janeane Garofalo
11. Lance Armstrong
12. Kelly Osbourne
13. Priests
14. Katie Holmes
15. Japanese birds
16. Denzel Washington's smile
17. The Olsen twins
18. Montecore
19. Maya Angelou
20. William Wegman photos
21. Maddox Jolie
22. Verne Troyer
23. Gay bloggers
24. Christopher Hitchens

black friday

Annoying IT guy just informed me that Arrested Development has been cancelled.

I will now begin an intense mourning period complete with wailing and gnashing of teeth.

I don't know how long it will last.

doo doo da doo doo

Fuck. I am SO lacking motivation at work today.
I have junk to do, but I just don't feel like doing any of it.

I did get some good news first thing this morning. We won an airport project that we've been chasing for about a month now. That makes two wins in the past two weeks!!!
(I'm extra excited because we were on a streak of about ten losses in a row. I was starting to feel emasculated. Impotent. Ineffective. Weak. Overpaid – ha!)

There's a meeting going on in one of our conference rooms right now for a big transit project my firm is working on. They've got architects, city officials, and all sorts of contractors in there. And a few of them are HOT. So all morning I've been walking back and forth in front of the open door, pretending to be really important and busy.
And for what? So that maybe one of the hotties will see me and think, "DAMN – who is that fine-looking Marketing Coordinator? I've got to get me some of that!"?
Then he'll chase me down the hall and lay a big, huge smooch on me, and then we'll run off to Canada and get married or some shit? Please. I'm pathetic.
I really need some male attention. Soon. Having been totally out of it and drugged half the time for the past ten days distracted me for a while, but now I can feel my spirits rising (among other things). Granted, I did have a grande coffee this morning, but I don't think that's the sole reason for the upturn in my mood.No worries though. I'm supposedly meeting up with the fuck buddy on late Saturday night/early Sunday morning! That oughta' make me feel better. WOOF!

lost!

BR-AV-O Lost! Bravo.
I loved last night’s episode. It hadn’t been on for a few weeks and I needed a fix.
So, I raise my glass to Lost: You made me give a shit about Shannon; you finally brought back Claire and her creepy destiny baby; you freaked me out with the Others stuff; and you totally made me go, “Oh no you DID-ENT!” at the end. And – best of all – you had Boone in a flashback. Gorgeous, even with that weird trashy Carol Brady hair (was that hairstyle supposed to signify the mid-90's or something?). Tra la la la la. I’m happy.

I’m STILL nursing this goddamn cold so I sat at home and watched my buddy Anderson Cooper 360 afterwards. Who need Roseanne at 9:00 when I can have A.C.? Is he not perfection? I love his voice so much. And his mouth, his eyes, his hair, his heart-shaped face.
God, if I could just get rich and just get famous and just get hot maybe I could meet him. Maybe I could do something crazy and highly illegal and get put on the news and he would report on me! Hehehehe-heehee.

babies - the new black?

Babies, babies, babies. Everywhere I turn these days the lil' bastards are coming out.

Of course, my dear friend (and ex-tequila shot drinking buddy) T. is due to pop around Xmas. And I'm sure her little boy will be beautiful – and totally healthy and unaffected by any prenatal drinking binges…he hehheh he… *gulp*

At work I sit in a pod with two other people. One is the majorly irritating IT guy (I'll save all THAT for another posting) and the other is an interior designer. She's been out since early summer when she had to be put on bed rest while waiting to give birth to twins (she – was – HUGE!). Today is her first day back. I'm happy to see her – it gets lonely over here in my little corner with no one to talk to and to shit talk about my coworkers with (minus the IT guy – blech). I can tell she's self-conscious about her new pooch. She keeps pulling her jacket together to cover it up. I don't think there's anything to ashamed of – two kids were cut out of that pooch a matter of months ago for christ's sake!
But all day it's been one person after another coming to the area between our desks to look at pictures, talk about babies, blah blah. The first couple of conversations I tried to participate in - I laughed about the difficulties of midnight feedings, nodded sympathetically at the cost of day care, offered my two-cents about sore nipples, etc., but now I'm just over it.
Everyone is having fucking babies – two people in my office have kids who are about one year old, one dude just got one a couple months ago, and now another guy's wife is knocked up.
Babies are the new black.
And I have a strong suspicion that another chick is my office is with child because she's looking a little big in front and she keeps wearing these unpleasant saggy peasant shirts, but I totally can't say something cuz what if she wasn't pregnant? From what little I understand about women, they don't care much for that.

Whenever another woman in my office has a baby, a chair mysteriously appears in the client bathroom (which I always use because the men's room smells like shit and cheap cologne…and I have been prone to stage fright from time to time) for the woman to sit on while she…pumps her milk? Extracts her milk? Squeezes the big fat lefty and then the big fat righty? I don't know the politically correct way to say it.
I guess it seems a little high-maintenance to me. I mean, heaven forbid they have to sit on the toilet. Oh dear – you're up to your elbows in baby shit 12 times a day, but stay away from that toilet!

A couple years ago a woman at work came back from maternity leave and would pump the milk during the day. I didn't know this was going on. One day I opened the freezer and saw this cute little bottle of white stuff sitting there. I picked it up, gave it a little shake, and asked everyone in the kitchen, "What the hell is this?" It was the breast milk, and people pointed and laughed at me.
I also had the chance to feel a warm bag of fresh breast milk during my trip to Minneapolis last May. I tried to get Jen to have a glass of it with her cookie. She refused.
I have to admit, I was a little tempted to taste it. Just to see. Maybe it would be delicious? And you know it's ever-so-good for you and might even help me with my allergies! But then I'd be fucked because I'd be addicted to breast milk, and where would a sicko like me go to find his fix? Hmm – maybe you could get something like that on the world wide web?

I was shocked to find out a couple of years ago that I wasn't breast fed. When my sister had Hailey she decided not to breast feed and I was like, "Linz, you've got to. I mean, how do think we would have turned out if mom hadn't breast fed us?" and my mom was like, "Uh, I never breast fed you. Sucker."
I felt so robbed. Cheated out of the one chance I had in my life to suck on a boob – I mean, other than those couple of drunken experiences in college. And I am a little obsessed with boobs. Subconsciously I stare at them – or so I've been told.
Boob envy? Maybe…but I doubt it. After all, I've spent a good portion of my life trying to eliminate any trace of man boobs!

COLD WATCH: DAY NINE.

happy and sad

I'm not quite sure whether I'm manic or depressive today.

It is a beautiful day in Denver – it's already 77 degrees downtown. I mean, it just doesn't get much better than that in November. So that makes me happy, even though I'll be stuck inside working all day.

In the negative column, I just can't seem to get better. I'd thought I'd hit the peak of my cold at the end of last week (and I even stayed home on a goddamn Friday night to take care of myself!) and then yesterday around 4:00 I started going downhill again. My cough kicked in and I was sneezing like crazy, and then all of a sudden I couldn't breathe through my nose at all. Then I got home and got all crazy-nauseous. So I played it cool and sipped on some Diet Sprite and went to bed at 10:30, only to be woken at 2 a.m. with a violent stomachache that kept me up until sometime around 5:00. Boo!

On the bright side, TV last night was great. Arrested Development did not let me down. The scene where George Sr. thinks he's scaring straight a bunch of juvenile delinquents when he's actually talking to a bunch of gay teenagers was classic. And Charlize Theron turns out to be mentally retarded?? Brilliant.

I'm less than thrilled that they've taken the Roseanne double-take off Nick-at-Nite at 9:00. That was my standard go-to 9:00 show. And I'm anti-Cosby Show right now. Bastards.

Thanks to the kindness of friends I haven't had to spend a Thanksgiving by myself for the past few years. Last year G. cooked up a fucking frenzy and made a full Thanksgiving dinner with all the trimmings for me and two other people. The year before that I went to her parents' house, had a great meal, too much wine, and passed out in front of the fireplace. The year before that, I had the great big gay Thanksgiving at J.'s house – full of gay guys, lesbo bodybuilders, and one very irritated former spouse of J.'s partner.
This morning I had a message from J. inviting me over again this year. He promised there wouldn't be nearly as much drama this time. Too bad. I love drama - that doesn't involve me, that is. But maybe I'll get to see that CUTE guy I met at J.'s AIDS Walk BBQ last summer.

The ex-priest has called me three times since Sunday night. He finally left a message this morning asking me if I want to grab a drink tonight or tomorrow night. Great – now I get to deal with all that. I know, I know – my behavior on Sunday was less than discouraging…but…shit – I can't afford to take ANOTHER bath in holy water. That shit's expensive! And it burns.

I MIGHT have a very distant, slight chance of getting another job interview. I had kind of put that whole search on hold until at least after the holidays – partially because my work/social life is going to be very busy up until January as it is, but mostly because we get our holiday bonuses on December 15th! I'm very lucky at my firm because we get bonuses twice a year – in December and in June. It's so nice to get that chunk of cash.
Anyway, my friend works at an ad firm and they're hiring. I've never done any work in advertising, but I have been working in public relations and marketing for the past few years, and how far of a stretch can it be to transition into advertising?
Anyway, it seems like a good opportunity to at least check out.

I've felt so lonely for companionship the past month or two. I want a boyfriend again. I know I can't just snap my fingers and make it happen, but I'm hoping if I focus my energies enough it will at least slightly increase the likelihood of it happening.
I obviously spend quite a lot of time at gay bars, I hang out at the bookstore for at least a couple hours every weekend, I'm a coffee house junkie…I don't know. There must be a better place to meet men. Like, some sort of gay organization or something? I have to admit, the thought of something like that kind of weirds me out. Just seems too desperate.

I'm sad that the days are getting so short and the temps will (eventually) be dropping, but with the sun lower in sky I get a lovely sunbeam on my desk every day, shining on my face, from about noon to 1:30. Lovely Vitamin D. Makes me so sleepy though – especially after only getting about four hours of sleep last night….

forgive me father - a.k.a. watchin' out for lightning bolts!

This weekend was weird.

After staying in all week, I was really hoping to get out and about on Friday night. But I was dragging all day at work. I was so tired and my eyes were just burning. I went home after work, caught a quick nap, took a hot shower, ate some dinner, got dressed, and then sat down on my couch around 8:30 and realized I wasn't going anywhere. I was exhausted.
I borrowed A Mighty Wind from a friend a few weeks ago and still hadn't watched it, so I popped it in. It was cute. It didn't even come close to touching Best in Show, but it was O.K. I love that guy who plays the husband of the woman who used to be in porn (he plays one of the gay guys in Best in Show). He's so damn cute.
Anyway, I went to bed about 11:30. That was the first Friday night I've stayed home in almost a year. I really think I made the smart decision, but still had a sense that I had the stink of loser all over me all day on Saturday. On the plus side, I woke up at 7:30 on Saturday morning totally sober and refreshed and ready to greet the day. Now THAT'S a strange feeling.

Saturday night my friends who just got married this summer had a little house-warming at their new home over off of Federal & 23rd. After almost a week of house arrest I was very excited to get out and hang with two of the most entertaining friends that I have (and rarely get to see). But I should have kept in mind that I hadn't had but a drink or two in almost a week. Because I started drinking wine like a madman, and it went straight to my head. There were about 10-15 of us there and I don't even know how many bottles we went through. A LOT. By 1:00 a.m. I was totally toasted. Accidentally. Then I thought I was the biggest DJ stud ever, going through their CDs, spinning all my favorite tunes. I got heavy on the disco.
The stragglers who were still left in the wee hours decided to play Texas Hold 'Em – some sort of form of poker. I have absolutely no idea how to play poker. It doesn't interest me in the slightest. But I was drunk and didn't want to be left out so I joined in. I had absolutely no idea what I was doing, but somehow by the grace of a god who helps drunken fools, I won the first game! $$$! Don't EVEN try to fuck with me when I put on my poker face sucker-chumps!

I felt like ASS on Sunday morning. Oh god. I had to be up at 10:00 to run errands with my buddy and it was one of the rare times I actually had a full-on hangover. Ugh – I felt terrible. By 1:00 I was back home on my couch for a three-hour nap. When I woke up I had no motivation to do anything, but figured I might as well walk across the street to REI to grab some Starbucks. Thought it would help clear my head. As I was sipping my soy latte and walking around checking out REI's merchandise my cell rang. It was E, a guy who lived in my old apartment building. He's pretty cool – a nice, normal guy who I drunkenly hooked up with a time or two. But we never call each other or make plans to hang out, so I was a bit confused as to why he was calling me. After a bit of chit-chat, he told me he was at the new bar in Larimer Square – Corridor 44 – with a friend and he asked me to stop by for a drink. Now, the last thing I needed was a drink, but I figured I could either walk a few blocks up the road and be social for a while, or crawl back onto my couch and be a complete slug for the rest of the night. So I opted for the former.
I met E and his friend around 5:00. They had just come from a wedding and looked very nice all dressed up in their suits. I looked like shit. E's friend was really nice – he was probably in his mid-40s, decent-looking - not really my cup of tea physically - but very smart and funny and sweet and a really good listener. We talked and drank champagne for about an hour and a half and I started to feel a lot better.
The bar was deserted except for us and one other table. I had to go to the bathroom and chose the stall over the urinal simply because I needed some toilet paper to blow my nose. A couple seconds later I heard the bathroom door open and close and a voice outside the stall door said "Matt?" I said "yeah?" and when the door was pushed open I saw it was E's friend. And he had mischief in his eyes. I don't know what happened in my head at that moment – I honestly wasn't very attracted to him - but I was tired and coming off a cold, and hungover, and silly from too much champagne…so I let him come in to the stall.
About 10-15 minutes later we got back to the table and E. acted like we'd only been gone for two minutes, so I just went with it. Then our conversation turned to religion. I talked about how I was raised catholic, went to catholic school, was an altar boy – the whole works. And all of a sudden the friend drops a bomb – he was a priest for seven years! He ended up giving it up because he didn't agree with the direction the church was headed, but for SEVEN YEARS he was a MAN OF GOD. Oh my god. It really stunned me - I didn't know what to say.
At that point I decided it would probably be best if I headed for home. I said my goodbyes and right as I was walking out the door, the ex-priest ran up behind me and asked if I wanted to go back to E's house for some three-way action. I was like, "Oh jesus – this is just too much." I politely declined and continued on my way. Then about five minutes later my cell rang – it was the ex-priest. He wanted to know if I had any pot to sell him. Unbelievable.

I realized on my walk home that E must have known what was going on all along – the ex-priest had probably asked him to call one of his hook-ups from the past. So I guess that means that E either thinks I'm really, really good in bed or really, really cheap. I prefer to think I'm a little of both.
I've always heard it said that catholic girls are the nastiest, and now I think the boys may be too. I haven't been a practicing catholic in well over ten years, but I still can't help but feel a little guilty and dirty and sinful about letting an ex-priest go down on me in a bar bathroom. I mean, that's just WRONG.
Jesus h. christ – my grandma must be spinning in her grave….

I don't know. The whole thing is very Thorn Birds.

OK - anyway, on a completely different track, Arrested Development is back tonight! AND it's a full hour! Yeah!

reality tv round-up

*written specially in honor of my new friend Stacy!*

As I have been sick as a dog this week, I have been going straight home from work and getting my butt to bed early. After a healthy dose of reality TV (and a little regular TV too), that is!

So…here is my boob-tube week in review:

Monday: I didn't get to watch any TV on Monday because I was flying home from Minneapolis. Does anybody know if Arrested Development was on? I've been jonesing for that show. I heard Justin Bateman had throat surgery this week and taping has been suspended. Nooooo! They could work that into the show!
I also missed Prison Break. I had written off this show about a month ago just because…well, c'mon. Exactly how far am I expected to suspend my disbelief? But my future husband Wentworth Miller is the star, and I must support him through the good times and the bad. I take my potential future vows seriously. I'm sorry, but that's just the kind of guy I am. Plus, they killed off, like, 37 people in the last episode I saw! Bloodbath!

Tuesday: Watched Sex and the City on TBS. Got to see one of my favorite episodes – the one where Carrie gets ditched by everyone on her birthday, but at the end gets balloons and champagne from Big. That one really takes your emotions on a rollercoaster ride. Love it.
Then I caught The Amazing Race. It was nice and drama-licious. The christians got a time-out, and boy, did they respond to it in a non-christian-like way. Damn – they were calling everyone retards, pointing out people's flaws, punching the other teams' pictures in the face.
"My god, my god – why have you forsaken me??"
But they still didn't lose. The family with the two little kids was eliminated. It was pretty sad. The teeny little girl had a breakdown. Poor lil' thing. She looked like a friggin' blowfish. I really don't know if she'll look back at the whole experience as a positive or negative one. I think she'll hate her mom forever for not being able to find that tiny red bean.

Wednesday: Watched Martha Stewart's Apprentice for the first time in a few weeks. Is it just me, or is this show pretty much as dull as watching paint dry? I had to read a book while I was watching it just to keep my brain from going to screen-saver mode.
I mean, jesus! – blah blah blah. We'd like the teams to brand the new Tide pen. Blah blah. Winning team eats sticky buns with Martha. Blah blah. "You don't fit in." Blah-dee blah. Martha writes two heartfelt letters. Blah.
So…like most of America (or as I should say, the 12 or so people who are still watching this show) I think Jim is a total douche who I would HATE if I ever had to deal with him in real life. But, like the sucker for abuse that I am, I suddenly have this inexplicable crush on him. I want him to heap verbal abuse on me and then go down on me for an hour.
Sorry – TMI.

Thursday: This week's Survivor was damn entertaining. Everyone is so pissy and hungry and sassy. And there is a mysterious immunity idol hidden somewhere in the jungle!
OK – maybe it's just me being super picky, but I could have sworn I saw a misspelling in the subtitles. At one point someone said, "…he's getting too cocky" and I'm pretty sure the subtitle said, "…he's getting to cocky." That interpretation sounds like some new way of referring to a sex act. Like, "I hope I get to cocky with him tonight!"
On second thought, that really doesn't make much sense.
I REALLY don't care who wins this stupid season. I don't like anyone very much. Even the gay guy bugs me. Idiot sticks his hand in a wasps' nest and then almost starts bawling because he thinks his team member is mean. This is Survivor, after all. Pussy.
I guess if I had to pick one person I'd like to win, it would be the chick with the dark hair who's on the smaller team. I can't remember her name. She's hot and seems pretty cool.
And enough with the nature shots mimicking human shots. Like when they showed the evil monkey yawning and then the evil Jaime yawning. Snore – that's SO first-year-film school.
The Apprentice was endlessly entertaining. That poor little gay jewish virgin. I think Clay should throw him a little favor (or maybe big – but in Clay's case, I seriously doubt it). And Donald's disbelief at Clay being gay? Uh…OK – have you heard him talk? And the Donald is like, "So, you're REALLY not attracted to her, or even her??! That's OK. It's like a restaurant. Some people like steak, some people like spaghetti." I don't even want to know which of the two dishes he's using as a metaphor for a vag. *gag*
And bu-bye Markus! If I ever have the misfortune to meet you in real life I promise to punch you in the neck. And then you'll probably go off on a rambling two-hour discourse that makes no sense whatsoever about the history of people getting punched in the neck.

notes from the weekend

I'm back from my little Minneapolis adventure.
The weekend was wonderful, the wedding was wonderful, my friends were exceptional, and the weather was…acceptable.

I flew out on Friday morning and arrived in Minneapolis about 1:00. Chieko met me at the airport and since she had to hang around the airport until 2:30 to meet a client we stopped by an airport bar and grabbed an extra-large beer. Then we went to her parents' house to pick up her kids.
Let me tell ya – that house has one huge gaggle of kids. Two three-year-olds and two one-year-olds (two are her sister's). Jesus. Turns my hair white just thinking about it. We hauled the whole mess of them over to the park, and I spent a lovely afternoon pushing them in the swings, teeter-tottering, chasing them around pretending to be a scary monster, and trying my damndest to get them to call me "Uncle Matty."

My first evening in town turned out to be fairly mellow – just hanging out at Chieko's house, BBQ'ing, drinking Bud Lights, visiting with friends, and playing Cranium.
I did, however, suffer one of the saddest moments of my gay life. I drew the card where I was required to pretend to be Barbra Streisand. Not like a charades thing, but one where you just have to act and talk like the person. And I drew a complete blank. Complete blank. At that moment I realized that I really know nothing about the woman. I've never seen one of her movies (except for a teeny bit of The Mirror Has Two Faces – which sucked ass, and not in that good way). So in desperation I started saying lame things like "My nose is really huge!" and "I'm a huge stuck-up diva bitch!" and "I really, REALLY like soft lighting and nails sharp as claws!" all to cries of "cheater!" by the other players.
Damn – what kind of fag am I? I'm expecting my gay card to be revoked at any moment. *sob*
But I was quickly redeemed when my partner had to do charades for a movie, and after making a quick, vague motion of some sort of hoopy circle around her waist I shouted out "Gone With the Wind!!" after only about two seconds of the time had passed. What can I say? I'm just brilliant like that yo.
I went to bed about 2:00, and was roused bright and early by Chieko's two little angels. Goddamn – parents have to get up EARLY on the weekend, huh? At, like, 7:00! I helped little Rocco make pink pancakes (he likes to put food coloring in the batter) which made me feel right at home. Pride pancakes!
Chieko had to go help Les prepare for the wedding, so I spent the afternoon at a quiet little coffee shop doing some reading. Catherine picked me up mid-afternoon and we went to her place to get ready for the wedding. Jen picked us up there and off we went. It was at a lovely mansion in St. Paul, and I had the chance to catch up with several of my college friends who I haven't seen in years. And drink enough wine to make me way too giddy for my own good.

Around midnight we headed to a Halloween party at my friend John's apartment. I was drrrrrunk! I'd had about ten glasses of wine at the wedding and then switched to keg beer once we hit the party. The whole party is kind of a blur. Kiddo and his friend showed up at one point. It was good to see him again - and I use the term "see" loosely since everything had a wonderful haze to it. Then at some point John drunkenly begged Catherine and I to help him get people out of the apartment building. Catherine is a cop so she had that whole routine down.
*Lights up – GET THE FUCK OUT!*
After that we hit a late-night diner for some food. I think I got to bed about 6 a.m.

Sunday was chilly and rainy and I sat at a Starbucks and cruised the Minneapolis hotties. Then Jen, Stacy and I went to a delicious Italian restaurant. Delicious in terms of the food and in terms of the waiters' asses. My favorite waiter was obviously straight, but I still couldn't help falling in love with him. We named another waiter "Menacing Eyebrows" – for obvious reasons – and more than once he gave me a sly little smile. If I still lived in Minneapolis I would totally stalk him.

I was feeling kind of down and blue yesterday because my fun vacation is over, and as soon as I got back I started to come down with some sort of zany head/chest cold. I should have seen that coming because I ALWAYS get sick when I travel (I blame airplanes) and Chieko was sick on Saturday and Sunday. And I was hanging out with little kids (or carriers as I prefer to call them) way more than usual. Bleh.
But…I was cruising through my favorite blogs yesterday and I got to see nudie pics of Jeff Probst from Survivor! Hee hee. I don't know – maybe they're fake, but they look pretty real to me. And let me tell you, Jeff is doing JUST FINE for himself down there. Oh baby.
OK – so, my crush on Jeff has officially been resurrected. I think I'm going to watch Survivor tonight and play with myself! No – wait. I KNOW I am. *RAWR*

And it is now official: I am definitely going to hell. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.
No matter how hard I try to get to work on time, if I'm shooting for 8:30 I'll end up getting here around 8:35 or 8:40. If I'm shooting for 8:00, it'll probably be about 8:15. But today I was on the ball, left my apartment at 7:35, and was right on track to be 7:55-boy!
Then, about six blocks from work, the mall ride stopped on the corner of Champa, I turned and looked out the window, and saw a handicapped homeless man in a wheelchair wanting to board. Which means everyone has to clear out of the handicapped spot, the driver has to get out, put down the ramp, roll the guy up, put the ramp back up, blah blah. My stress level immediately jumped about five notches.
But just as soon as the guy was on board and we started moving again, I immediately felt my cheeks flush with shame. I mean, what's a couple minutes of delay compared to being able to walk? How in the world could I be so unbelievably selfish? What are the numerous obstacles and bullshit that man faces everyday? And I consider that silly little delay an inconvenience in my ridiculously charmed life?
And as I was sternly reprimanding myself and promising to never again be so insensitive the bus pulled up to the next corner where, yep – another homeless handicapped person was waiting to board.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

I walked into work late – as usual. Oh well. I don't want to get my coworkers' expectations up too high anyway.

Yep, I'm surely going to hell.
Big whoop. After all, it's only going to FEEL like an eternity.

Mpls madness

Below are some pics of my trip to Mpls.
One note of advice to everyone out there: If you decide to purchase a generic disposable camera because it costs a couple of dollars less than the fancy Kodak version, you'll definitely be getting what you paid for. All my shots came out looking dingy and grainy and washed-out.
Kind of like they were taken at a sketchy, 70's sex & drug party.
Hmmm - that actually sounds kind of fun....

Anyway, I'm playing catch-up at work so I'll try to write something tomorrow.

Stacy, me and Jen on Sunday night. I love all my Mpls ladies!! 

Reid (kiddo), Catherine and I at the Halloween party. I think I look really, really hot for having had about 20 drinks at that point. 

Oooh la la. Chieko and I dirty dancing. After all, every married woman has to get a little gay bump & grind from time to time....
(the scary part is that I don't remember doing this AT ALL)

Me and Leslie - the lovely bride. 

This is Nikki (Sammy's wife), Sammy, Jen and I. I believe this is post-dinner, pre-getting wasted. Well, I guess I was the only one in this group who got wasted that night, but don't they say you're never drinking alone if jesus is there with you?

Matty loves Catherine! 

Me and Jen gettting cozy - I think the look on my face is a reaction to where her other hand is.... 

Me and cute little Rocco on Friday night. Like all little kids he loved me!