All I ever wanted when I moved into this apartment back in July of 2006, was a place to stay for 3 months until i found something on my own. After 4 months, my roommate let me stay indefinitely. When he moved out it became mine with a boyfriend, long before I was ready to live with a boyfriend. 2 dogs and a million fights later we broke up, and my best friend of 7 years moved in. I almost gave it all up in February of this year. The rent control. The convenience of West Hollywood. The shot at my own home.. Now I'm glad I didn't.
As unbelievably sad as I am that Ry moved out of state at 4am, this is exactly where I am supposed to be. Ugly, ugly cry this morning at the airport followed by all-day panic attacks and naps led me to move back into the smaller and softer room, turn the master into an amazing office, pick up groceries, and even make fruit salad.
Each room still holds physical pieces of my 5 years here that I cannot let go of: Kevin's bath mat. Aaron's bookshelves. Jasons chocolate bowl. And ryan's canned food and Midevil Times cups from his 30th. The floors were laid with love with funding from our creative hard work. The iced coffee recipe has been perfected with our weekly trial and error. And the patio? Remains unused except by cricket to tan like an Italian tourist lady. And for the first times since I moved in a half decade ago, the history of this space makes me proud. It's mine. On my own. The dogs have a bed in each room. I have a bathtub or a shower, my choice every morning. I can keep hoarding Christmas gifts for years. And I can kind of even afford the rent...kind of. I cant go out anymore, but party's at my house y'all. Bring a casserole and Charles Shaw. I got a pool. And parking's free after 6.
I'm so grateful. I'm so proud. I listened to what I knew was right for me. And the world is answering with love. It works if you pay attention.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
James Frey Interview
I loved James Frey's new book so much that I had to meet him somehow and tell him, so we did a LAMBDA interview that has just been posted.
The greatest moment of the interview happened on the question of when James feels "most free." His answer changed the way I look at art forever, both as a viewer and as a performer. The goal, I believe now is to be so good, that your art sets people free.
In 2003, I was 100 pounds overweight and closeted when I walked into a bookstore and picked up A Million Little Pieces. It quickly became my obsession: this book about a drug addict struggling so hard to get better. I learned quickly that addiction to drugs, or in my case food, was really about shame--about not wanting to acknowledge difficult feelings, and about being afraid to live as who I was. I cite A Million Little Pieces as one of the main igniters of my 100 pound weight loss and thus, my coming out as a gay person, to my family and myself. Hope you like the piece.
Friday, June 24, 2011
White House - Gay Marriage - NY
Post "Be Like NY" on the White House's Facebook page now. And share with friends. :)
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Dinner
Last week, I went out to dinner with an ex. We had been trying to get together for about a year but our schedules could never mash up.
He was someone I met when I came to LA in 2005 and had $22 left in my pocket as I waited to hear if I had been cast on the new version of I've got a secret for Game Show Network. I had no home. I lived in my friends moms her alice office, behind a partition, on an air mattress. I spent that last $22 on a beer and a vodka cranberry on a Sunday night at mickeys. Thats when I met the guy we shall call Ron.
Ron was hot. Hot. Hot. Hot. We hit it off because of this. He was hot. And I liked hot.
Otherwise, not a lot there. Ron talked about show business and his plans of taking over the industry. We talked about his celebrity friends. We talked about various fights he'd had with old friends. We watched American Idol. We had great sex. And very loving pillow talk. Ron cooked for me. And once or twice he bought me groceries. And dinner at chipotle. I was on the verge of homelessness, I didn't get the part, and my boyfriend whom I hated, was buying me a carnitas burrito.
But it wasn't the right fit. And I realized that when I found out he had a boyfriend.
So I ended it, but really, it never really was, I suppose. I was scared and broke and sad but relieved. I kind of hated being with him unless we were eating or fucking so over a final burrito bol i told him it was over. No more sour cream for us. He was upset about this. He didn't understand why I wasn't more patient. Why it was all about me. Why after everything he'd done, I was just going to bail. I mean, the idol finale was next week, and he'd much rather watch it with me than with Jim.
But we've stayed in touch. He's single now, and exactly the same otherwise. Dinner was a conversation about his new ventures, his family, etc. At one point he asked me if I still live on Sweetzer. Otherwise, he may have forgotten my name. I think I heard him say "later, Seth" after we hugged.
Regardless, I made a vow that one day, I would take him to dinner, and that we would have expensive food. And I would definitely pay, and I would tell him it wasn't because I was trying to get laid, but because it was a marker of how far I'd come. How I was now independent. That I was paying him back by showing him that he helped keep me here when I almost had to leave in those first few weeks, without a dime in my pocket and now, I'm a writer, and a comic, and I work in tv, and I gladiated, and started a movement, and don't forget about my cute little doggies.
When I told him this, that i survived, and dinner was my token of thanks for his help, he said he didn't remember that he paid, ever for anything. And "why is it always about you."
He kind of had a point.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
He was someone I met when I came to LA in 2005 and had $22 left in my pocket as I waited to hear if I had been cast on the new version of I've got a secret for Game Show Network. I had no home. I lived in my friends moms her alice office, behind a partition, on an air mattress. I spent that last $22 on a beer and a vodka cranberry on a Sunday night at mickeys. Thats when I met the guy we shall call Ron.
Ron was hot. Hot. Hot. Hot. We hit it off because of this. He was hot. And I liked hot.
Otherwise, not a lot there. Ron talked about show business and his plans of taking over the industry. We talked about his celebrity friends. We talked about various fights he'd had with old friends. We watched American Idol. We had great sex. And very loving pillow talk. Ron cooked for me. And once or twice he bought me groceries. And dinner at chipotle. I was on the verge of homelessness, I didn't get the part, and my boyfriend whom I hated, was buying me a carnitas burrito.
But it wasn't the right fit. And I realized that when I found out he had a boyfriend.
So I ended it, but really, it never really was, I suppose. I was scared and broke and sad but relieved. I kind of hated being with him unless we were eating or fucking so over a final burrito bol i told him it was over. No more sour cream for us. He was upset about this. He didn't understand why I wasn't more patient. Why it was all about me. Why after everything he'd done, I was just going to bail. I mean, the idol finale was next week, and he'd much rather watch it with me than with Jim.
But we've stayed in touch. He's single now, and exactly the same otherwise. Dinner was a conversation about his new ventures, his family, etc. At one point he asked me if I still live on Sweetzer. Otherwise, he may have forgotten my name. I think I heard him say "later, Seth" after we hugged.
Regardless, I made a vow that one day, I would take him to dinner, and that we would have expensive food. And I would definitely pay, and I would tell him it wasn't because I was trying to get laid, but because it was a marker of how far I'd come. How I was now independent. That I was paying him back by showing him that he helped keep me here when I almost had to leave in those first few weeks, without a dime in my pocket and now, I'm a writer, and a comic, and I work in tv, and I gladiated, and started a movement, and don't forget about my cute little doggies.
When I told him this, that i survived, and dinner was my token of thanks for his help, he said he didn't remember that he paid, ever for anything. And "why is it always about you."
He kind of had a point.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
You Will Heal
There is an unreal sense of healing that human beings experience that I can't sum up in a simple word. I know this because this week, someone I know and care about very much is facing the reality of betrayal and it's immediate aftermath: shock, survival, discovery, humiliation, and unworthiness. And i went through this, more than once, and i am so much better. We have all been betrayed, and it makes us so angry. We sit in anger for days and months, sometimes even years but forgiveness comes and it heals.
The shock comes from having trusted, from believing in the innocence of an intention, while another's double life was hidden, and a stronger force than the bond we shared, and that seems impossible. The survival is in splitting the house or the friends or the pets or the bills, in making sure we haven't been hurt deeper than just the emotional. It's calling banks or doctors or lawyers. It's buying new furniture. It's trying to leave with more dignity than what the truth revealed. The discovery is in what actually happened. How the lie really went, and friends will tell you they suspected all along, or had heard this or that. Maybe you piece together missing pieces of old stories, or maybe, as was my case, a third party confessed. The humiliation and unworthiness is all the same. I wasn't good enough to be told the truth. I wasn't good enough to be enough. And now, everyone knows. And I am a fat son of a fuck.
And it makes you angry, but you can't scream and you can't cry, because you want to be the bigger man, and you don't want to keep being the victim. And you don't want this to be how you identify or how other people identify you. But it feels endless. Everywhere you look you see an accomplice. You speak to the betrayer alone in the shower. every morning, you replay the final conversation and how you should have said it to really have left them breathless, like you still are now.
And then, you start to heal. You walk a little taller the first time someone tells you that you have pretty eyes. You run into an old friend who reminds you of how fun you can be. You pay your bills. You ask questions and go to therapy. You sleep and you wake up, over and over again. And you meet people who you trust. And you meet people you don't trust, and now for the first time, you can tell the difference between these two types of people.
You fall in love again. You run into the betrayer and you literally feel nothing. Not sad, not happy, not mad, not fat, not thin, not scared, not competitive, you just feel...fine.
You remember a good time, and you smile, and that good time involved the person who hurt you: your mother, your ex, your friend, your boss, and you send them a note to say thanks for this memory. And you mean it, and you feel good offering gratitude and letting them know that you release them of guilt, or blame, or worry about it all.
But you know you have healed when it happens to someone you love, and you can share your recovery, and you say the words (only to yourself), "the person who hurt my friend is not evil, not void of goodness, but fucked up back then. And I have compassion for the betrayer, because they fucked it up."
Out loud to your friend you say, "I am so sorry for your loss. And I am so excited to watch you grow right now, because the death of this relationship will make you a Phoenix, a Hulk, a Bloomin Onion, and I get to watch you smile again. And I promise you this, it will get better than it ever was or has been. And I know this because I am. I mean for gods sakes, I'm 165 pounds."
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
The shock comes from having trusted, from believing in the innocence of an intention, while another's double life was hidden, and a stronger force than the bond we shared, and that seems impossible. The survival is in splitting the house or the friends or the pets or the bills, in making sure we haven't been hurt deeper than just the emotional. It's calling banks or doctors or lawyers. It's buying new furniture. It's trying to leave with more dignity than what the truth revealed. The discovery is in what actually happened. How the lie really went, and friends will tell you they suspected all along, or had heard this or that. Maybe you piece together missing pieces of old stories, or maybe, as was my case, a third party confessed. The humiliation and unworthiness is all the same. I wasn't good enough to be told the truth. I wasn't good enough to be enough. And now, everyone knows. And I am a fat son of a fuck.
And it makes you angry, but you can't scream and you can't cry, because you want to be the bigger man, and you don't want to keep being the victim. And you don't want this to be how you identify or how other people identify you. But it feels endless. Everywhere you look you see an accomplice. You speak to the betrayer alone in the shower. every morning, you replay the final conversation and how you should have said it to really have left them breathless, like you still are now.
And then, you start to heal. You walk a little taller the first time someone tells you that you have pretty eyes. You run into an old friend who reminds you of how fun you can be. You pay your bills. You ask questions and go to therapy. You sleep and you wake up, over and over again. And you meet people who you trust. And you meet people you don't trust, and now for the first time, you can tell the difference between these two types of people.
You fall in love again. You run into the betrayer and you literally feel nothing. Not sad, not happy, not mad, not fat, not thin, not scared, not competitive, you just feel...fine.
You remember a good time, and you smile, and that good time involved the person who hurt you: your mother, your ex, your friend, your boss, and you send them a note to say thanks for this memory. And you mean it, and you feel good offering gratitude and letting them know that you release them of guilt, or blame, or worry about it all.
But you know you have healed when it happens to someone you love, and you can share your recovery, and you say the words (only to yourself), "the person who hurt my friend is not evil, not void of goodness, but fucked up back then. And I have compassion for the betrayer, because they fucked it up."
Out loud to your friend you say, "I am so sorry for your loss. And I am so excited to watch you grow right now, because the death of this relationship will make you a Phoenix, a Hulk, a Bloomin Onion, and I get to watch you smile again. And I promise you this, it will get better than it ever was or has been. And I know this because I am. I mean for gods sakes, I'm 165 pounds."
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Weeeeeee Up The Hill
I've never felt this close to a version of success that I dreamed of as a kid. I just had to share that with you. It feels so close, and this is the most fun I've had climbing the hill.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Newnessness
I am in a state of panic today.
It is a real sense of loss that is entering my life these days. My best friend is pregnant. My best gay is leaving town. Oprah is leaving daytime.
For the past two years, these three people have been my various shoulders as I moved in and out of my own transitions. They are the people (well, Oprah and I never chatted, but I wrote to her) who saw the worst of me, heard me gripe at my pettiest, listened to me scream at the injustices of betrayal and workplace tyranny, and saw me cry at the fear of being unloved. And soon, I have to say goodbye to the way I have known them and support them in their pursuit of their missions. And I'm happy for them, and proud of them, but all of a sudden I feel very, very alone.
Did you know that a worm is the only animal that you can cut in half that continues to grow? I read that yesterday in The Book of Awakenings (an Oprah Favorite Thing, duh) and I wanted to feel hopeful, but I don't. I feel cut in half left to bake on the sidewalk, because I don't know how to navigate life without an emergency call during the crises that arise to say, "I don't know how to quit this job" or "why won't he call me back?" or "am I liable?" or "She's gone missing and her phone is off and she left my dad, and frankly, I don't care. Is that wrong?"
In under two months, I will be living alone. I will be an Uncle. I will be thin, as I am now. I will have a new car still. I will be living in a clean house with new shoes. I will have perspective on things I used to not understand. My doggies will be happy and healthy. But still, I will be alone. For the first time ever, I will be alone in a house that I've shared continuously with various friends, partners, and roommates for five years.
There will no longer be a person who I can rely on to tell me it's all going to be ok. That I am good enough as is. And this is painful and makes me very nervous. Because for the first time, I'll have to tell myself this, and be convincing and trusting enough to allow it to breathe.
It is a real sense of loss that is entering my life these days. My best friend is pregnant. My best gay is leaving town. Oprah is leaving daytime.
For the past two years, these three people have been my various shoulders as I moved in and out of my own transitions. They are the people (well, Oprah and I never chatted, but I wrote to her) who saw the worst of me, heard me gripe at my pettiest, listened to me scream at the injustices of betrayal and workplace tyranny, and saw me cry at the fear of being unloved. And soon, I have to say goodbye to the way I have known them and support them in their pursuit of their missions. And I'm happy for them, and proud of them, but all of a sudden I feel very, very alone.
Did you know that a worm is the only animal that you can cut in half that continues to grow? I read that yesterday in The Book of Awakenings (an Oprah Favorite Thing, duh) and I wanted to feel hopeful, but I don't. I feel cut in half left to bake on the sidewalk, because I don't know how to navigate life without an emergency call during the crises that arise to say, "I don't know how to quit this job" or "why won't he call me back?" or "am I liable?" or "She's gone missing and her phone is off and she left my dad, and frankly, I don't care. Is that wrong?"
In under two months, I will be living alone. I will be an Uncle. I will be thin, as I am now. I will have a new car still. I will be living in a clean house with new shoes. I will have perspective on things I used to not understand. My doggies will be happy and healthy. But still, I will be alone. For the first time ever, I will be alone in a house that I've shared continuously with various friends, partners, and roommates for five years.
There will no longer be a person who I can rely on to tell me it's all going to be ok. That I am good enough as is. And this is painful and makes me very nervous. Because for the first time, I'll have to tell myself this, and be convincing and trusting enough to allow it to breathe.
Friday, May 20, 2011
RIP, Macho Man
Saddest day ever. One of my heroes has died. Thank you for the elbow drops, Randy Savage. You will be missed.
"OHHHHH YEAAAAAAHHHHH!"
Coverage:
Time Magazine
Fox Sports
e! Online
Tribute from Lanny Poffo, brother of Randy Savage
Randy Savage Wikipedia
WWE SUPERSTAR TWITTERS:
John Cena: “CeNation. The untimely passing of Randy Savage is indeed tragic. All true fans of wrestling will mourn this loss. One of the all time greats.”
Christian:“Sad 2 hear about "Macho Man" Randy Savage. Only met him once briefly. No doubt 1 of the best & influenced so many performers you see today RIP”
WWE Hall of Famer Shawn Michaels: “@IAmJericho jus txt me the news. We've lost one of the greats!! Our prayers go out to the family & friends of Randy Savage.”
WWE Hall of Famer "Stone Cold" Steve Austin: "Just heard about Macho Man Randy Savage... Unmatched intensity in the ring. A hellacious performer and terrific promo. A real bad ass. RIP." The Rock: “Today Team Bring It will celebrate a life – we will kick ass and chase greatness #OOHHYEEEAAAHHH style!”
WWE Hall of Famer "Rowdy" Roddy Pipper: "Too SAD TO TWEET."
Chris Jericho: "Randy Savage was a true influence and inspiration to me and taught me some very important lessons, in and out of the ring. Rest in peace, Mach."
WWE Hall of Famer Howard Finkel: “I am profoundly saddened by the passing of one of the all-time greats, “Macho Man” Randy Savage. My condolences go out to the Poffo family."
WWE Hall of Famer Bret "Hitman" Hart: “I have no words to say. This one hits me hard. We lost one of the best.” This sums it up.”
WWE Hall of Famer Jim Ross: Just heard Macho Man died this morning of a heart attack while driving his vehicle in Tampa. Condolences to all Randy Savage fans/family.
Rey Mysterio: “RIP Macho Man Randy Savage! Doing promotion in Seattle for Over the Limit PPV, was asked earlier today at a radio station. Who would I of loved to wrestle from back in da day? I said would of loved to hit it off in a 3ple threat, Macho Man, Ricky the Dragon, and myself! RIP RMS!”
Joey Styles: "There's no other way for me to celebrate the life & career of The Macho Man than to let him keep entertaining me.VIDEO: http://bit.ly/lZLBj8"
Wade Barrett: “Bow to the kingdom of the madness. RIP Macho Man, amazing performer.”
Justin Roberts: “Macho Man... Simply awesome. Incredible and entertaining in everything he did. One of the best ever. RIP.”
Zack Ryder: “RIP MACHO MAN. One of my favorites and one of the best of all time. DIG IT!”
Curt Hawkins: “I carry this picture in my gear bag ... 7-year-old Hawkins & my 1st tag team partner. RIP Macho Man.”
Goldust: “Prayers go out to Randy Savage’s family … God be with them in this tough time.”
William Regal: “Just heard of the passing of Randy Savage. A one-of-a-kind great performer. RIP.”
Vickie Guerrero: “RIP Randy Macho Man Savage. My prayers are to your family.”
Ezekiel Jackson: “Whoa... Just heard about macho man Randy Savage... God bless the family, the wrestling world just lost one of the greatest ever... R.I.P”
Natalya: “My prayers are with Randy Savage and his family right now.”
JTG: “To one of my favorite Hall of Famers, inducted or not. Macho Man Randy Savage. R.I.P OOOOOOOOOH YEEEEEEEAH !”
Beth Phoenix: "No words for this very sad day. Condolences to Randy Savage's family, friends and millions of fans." #MachoMan
Darren Young: “JUST like that! Life can end. Tell those close to ya that you love them cause ya never know! RIP Macho Man.”
Ricardo Rodriguez: “Thoughts go to Randy Savage's family. Definitely an amazing talent and a great inspiration to many. Can never forget Savage vs Steamboat.”
Yoshi Tatsu: “The Macho Man Randy Savage is one of my heroes when I was childhood and one of the best of all time. Rest in peace.”
Jack Korpela: “Hogan vs. Savage at WrestleMania V was the match that got me hooked on WWE as a kid. RIP “Macho Man” Randy Savage. My condolences.”
Trish Stratus: “Rest in peace. Randy – my first inspiration in the ring. My prayers & condolences to the Savage family.”
Bill DeMott: “When I got my start in WCW it was Randy that gave me the rub... My prayers and thoughts to the Poffo Family .”
Lucky Cannon: “My respect and condolence goes out to a true iconic figure the Macho Man Randy Savage and his family!”
Torrie Wilson: "Just heard the news of Macho Man Randy Savage passing... Rest in peace, Randy."
Mark Henry: "Wow family, one of my favorites is gone! Rest well (Randy Savage) you will be missed."
The Bella Twins: "Very sad to hear about Macho Man... His family is in our thoughts & prayers... Truly an amazin' & captivatin' man!"
Titus O'Neil: "My prayers go out to the family, friends & former colleagues of WWE Superstar Randy "Macho Man" Savage who passed away this morning. God Bless."
Scott Stanford: "Sorry to hear about the Macho Man! He was one of the best!"
Kharma: "In utter shock about Macho Man. So much charisma in one soul."
Lilian Garcia: "Just heard the news about "Macho Man" Randy Savage passing away. So sad. RIP Randy. My prayers go out to your friends & family."
Byron Saxton: "Randy Savage, may you Rest In Peace. Thank You for the memories an here's to an eternal Oooooh Yeahhh! God Bless."
Gail Kim: "RIP macho man. Thank u 4 all the great yrs u gave us.u were part of the reason I loved wrestling...what u did 4 all ... http://tmi.me/aqJ68"
Celebrity reactions:
TV personality Ryan Seacrest: “RIP Macho Man Randy Savage... loved watching him in the ring growing up. Oooooh yeeeah! http://bit.ly/jvssAd”
ESPN’s Michelle Beadle: “Just to remember one of the baddest: http://tinyurl.com/ywfdze. Macho Man.”
Actress Alyssa Milano: “Rest in peace, Macho Man Randy Savage.”
Singer Rob Thomas: “RIP RANDY "MACHO MAN" SAVAGE.”
TV personality Maria Menounos: “RIP Macho Man Randy Savage.”
ESPN’s Bill Simmons: “RIP, Randy Poffo aka Randy "Macho Man" Savage aka one of the greatest pro wrestlers who ever lived.”
The U.S. national soccer team’s Jozy Atlidore: “Macho Man was that dude! RIP Randy Savage. #ooooohyeeeeah”
NBA player Marcus Camby: “RIP Randy Macho Man Savage. Ooooooooooooh. Yeaaaahhhhhh.”
Jacksonville Jaguars player Kirk Morrison: “Ooooooohhhhhhhh Yeeeeeeeaaaaahhhhhhhhh (Macho Man voice)”
Houston Texans NFL player Brian Cushing: “RIP Macho Man Randy Savage.”
Actor and singer Donnie Wahlberg: “#RIPMachoMan”
Monday, May 16, 2011
From My Oprah Shower Invitation
Ladies ladies ladies,
We are just 9 days away from the finale, which I have taken off for as a religious holiday. Amy is bringing the Donald trump/Mira lago turkey burger balls, Rachel is bringing Oprahs favorite pomegranate martini, I am providing the panini love sandwich that she makes Stedman. Your task is to find an Oprah recipe and bring it for her farewell show at my house. Monkey Bread anyone? Maybe a Jessica Seinfeld spinach brownie? How bout some awful Kathy Freston vegan casserole? Cmon you know you want to bring something from the Paula Dean episodes! The party starts at 7, with the episode airing after all of our vaginas have been neatly prepared with Kleenex to catch the tears, unless you want it all to fly out like butterflies like that girl in Beloved.
Wednesday, May 25.
Think I'll Run On,
Sean
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
We are just 9 days away from the finale, which I have taken off for as a religious holiday. Amy is bringing the Donald trump/Mira lago turkey burger balls, Rachel is bringing Oprahs favorite pomegranate martini, I am providing the panini love sandwich that she makes Stedman. Your task is to find an Oprah recipe and bring it for her farewell show at my house. Monkey Bread anyone? Maybe a Jessica Seinfeld spinach brownie? How bout some awful Kathy Freston vegan casserole? Cmon you know you want to bring something from the Paula Dean episodes! The party starts at 7, with the episode airing after all of our vaginas have been neatly prepared with Kleenex to catch the tears, unless you want it all to fly out like butterflies like that girl in Beloved.
Wednesday, May 25.
Think I'll Run On,
Sean
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Sunday, May 1, 2011
My typical Monday thru Friday
My food/exercise plan for the last six weeks has generally looked like this Monday thru Friday afternoon. The food plan was adapted from The 17 Day Diet, which was way too strict for me but what I've modified it to really feels good.
Wake up 6AM - 6:30AM
Dog walk for 30 minutes.
90 pushups and 90 crunches
Between 7-8AM
giant glass of black iced coffee
giant glass of green/white mint iced tea (Trader Joes)
2 hard boiled eggs, 1/2 cup turkey chili or 2 tablespoons of three layer hummus in a mini whole wheat tortilla
8:30 AM
Vitamin Water zero
1 giant glass of water
10:45-11AM
8-10 red grapes or a minneola or a tangelo or a blood orange
1 giant glass of water
1PM
Turkey Pepperoni panini sandwich with JR's BBQ Sauce or Emeril's horseradish mustard and lots of mixed greens and crimini mushrooms on low sodium Ezekiel bread
1 giant glass of water
1:15/1:30PM
10 minute dog walk
3:30 PM
Double protein greek yogurt with 1/2 cup mixed frozen berries or blueberries or strawberries and 1/2 cup frozen mango chunks or pineapple chunks plus one splenda packet
1 giant glass of water
5PM
1 red delicious apple
7PM
mixed green salad with lots of lettuce, 2 servings lean chicken, and shredded cabbage with two tablespoons Newman's Own balsamic dressing.
1 giant glass of water
7:20/7:45PM
dog walk
30 minutes
8:15/8:30PM
Barrys Bootcamp or weight lifting at the gym or a 5K run for 45 minutes to an hour
9:30PM
2 scoops chocolate mint Isopure protein powder in 12 oz cold water
10:45PM
Sleep
CARBS
When I have tons of carbs in the morning, I'm finding that I stay in a very normal, good mood all day. And, according to most of my weight management sources, tapering off late in the day is a good idea, so I try to have my last grain-based carbs around 2PM at the latest. Everything else is fruit, which allows me that sweetness I crave late in the day.
BOOZE
Due to my elderly age, I don't drink as much anymore, because it makes me hurt for three days to have more than 2 drinks, and really two drinks hurts a lot for a day. So when I do drink that is reserved for Friday night only so I'm not still crabby and ghostly by Monday.
WEEKEND EATING
On Friday night I eat whatever I want. The same is true all day Saturday and Sunday I'm back on track, but allow myself Chipotle (no cheese and light rice) or Millions of Milkshakes (size small Miley or Obama with whip) or both.
WEEKEND EXERCISE
Friday night I go to Barry's Bootcamp because I love this teacher there. Saturday morning I work out together with one of my clients. And Sunday morning I run a 10-12K throughout West Hollywood before noon. I also still walk the dogs everyday for as long as I can. Usually an hour, but all at once.
I feel good with this. It's all adjustable, and if I have school night plans with a friend or work, I'm not freaking out about missing a workout. "It's just life," I say to myself, and what good is a hot body if you can't go out to dinner once in a while to show it off?
Wake up 6AM - 6:30AM
Dog walk for 30 minutes.
90 pushups and 90 crunches
Between 7-8AM
giant glass of black iced coffee
giant glass of green/white mint iced tea (Trader Joes)
2 hard boiled eggs, 1/2 cup turkey chili or 2 tablespoons of three layer hummus in a mini whole wheat tortilla
8:30 AM
Vitamin Water zero
1 giant glass of water
10:45-11AM
8-10 red grapes or a minneola or a tangelo or a blood orange
1 giant glass of water
1PM
Turkey Pepperoni panini sandwich with JR's BBQ Sauce or Emeril's horseradish mustard and lots of mixed greens and crimini mushrooms on low sodium Ezekiel bread
1 giant glass of water
1:15/1:30PM
10 minute dog walk
3:30 PM
Double protein greek yogurt with 1/2 cup mixed frozen berries or blueberries or strawberries and 1/2 cup frozen mango chunks or pineapple chunks plus one splenda packet
1 giant glass of water
5PM
1 red delicious apple
7PM
mixed green salad with lots of lettuce, 2 servings lean chicken, and shredded cabbage with two tablespoons Newman's Own balsamic dressing.
1 giant glass of water
7:20/7:45PM
dog walk
30 minutes
8:15/8:30PM
Barrys Bootcamp or weight lifting at the gym or a 5K run for 45 minutes to an hour
9:30PM
2 scoops chocolate mint Isopure protein powder in 12 oz cold water
10:45PM
Sleep
CARBS
When I have tons of carbs in the morning, I'm finding that I stay in a very normal, good mood all day. And, according to most of my weight management sources, tapering off late in the day is a good idea, so I try to have my last grain-based carbs around 2PM at the latest. Everything else is fruit, which allows me that sweetness I crave late in the day.
BOOZE
Due to my elderly age, I don't drink as much anymore, because it makes me hurt for three days to have more than 2 drinks, and really two drinks hurts a lot for a day. So when I do drink that is reserved for Friday night only so I'm not still crabby and ghostly by Monday.
WEEKEND EATING
On Friday night I eat whatever I want. The same is true all day Saturday and Sunday I'm back on track, but allow myself Chipotle (no cheese and light rice) or Millions of Milkshakes (size small Miley or Obama with whip) or both.
WEEKEND EXERCISE
Friday night I go to Barry's Bootcamp because I love this teacher there. Saturday morning I work out together with one of my clients. And Sunday morning I run a 10-12K throughout West Hollywood before noon. I also still walk the dogs everyday for as long as I can. Usually an hour, but all at once.
I feel good with this. It's all adjustable, and if I have school night plans with a friend or work, I'm not freaking out about missing a workout. "It's just life," I say to myself, and what good is a hot body if you can't go out to dinner once in a while to show it off?
The trick to weight loss you've never heard...
When people have noticed my weight loss in the past, I've always responded with the same self-deprecating joke..."thanks for noticing the tapeworm!"
Sometimes, scratch that, all the time, I've followed a weight loss compliment with a "Well, I'm gettin' there but not quite!" And that's crazy. Why not just enjoy it? The biggest difference this time is that I have simply agreed every single time someone has noticed my shrinkage.
"Wow, Sean, you look great!" they will say to me, and I respond with, "I feel it, thank you." I don't talk about my goal for next month, I ask them if they also noticed my tight cheekbones and my lean thighs, "because that's how I noticed I am losing weight!"
By being an advocate for my own body and my own weight loss I am losing weight and keeping it off. I am beautiful however I look, but my ass is Hella juicy now, and I tell people that. It's the "Yes And" rule of improv. "Sean, you are hot!"
"Yes and I'm sleeping better and running a seven minute mile again and I would totally fuck me!"
And because I don't hate me cause I'm beautiful, and because I see that I am fly, I want to keep eating healthy and living right. And for the first time, managing my weight doesn't feel like a sumo wrestling match. But damn, I'd look good in that outfit, Honey.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Sometimes, scratch that, all the time, I've followed a weight loss compliment with a "Well, I'm gettin' there but not quite!" And that's crazy. Why not just enjoy it? The biggest difference this time is that I have simply agreed every single time someone has noticed my shrinkage.
"Wow, Sean, you look great!" they will say to me, and I respond with, "I feel it, thank you." I don't talk about my goal for next month, I ask them if they also noticed my tight cheekbones and my lean thighs, "because that's how I noticed I am losing weight!"
By being an advocate for my own body and my own weight loss I am losing weight and keeping it off. I am beautiful however I look, but my ass is Hella juicy now, and I tell people that. It's the "Yes And" rule of improv. "Sean, you are hot!"
"Yes and I'm sleeping better and running a seven minute mile again and I would totally fuck me!"
And because I don't hate me cause I'm beautiful, and because I see that I am fly, I want to keep eating healthy and living right. And for the first time, managing my weight doesn't feel like a sumo wrestling match. But damn, I'd look good in that outfit, Honey.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
The SEANtra
I am never leaving home again.
My car broke down in Firebaugh, CA yesterday on my way home from the most magical weekend of my life. I was towed to an auto shop in Mendota, which is like Rosarito,Mexico minus the hospitality. The auto shop fixed the car, then it brome down 10 miles after I left they were closed by then, so I had to be towed 80 miles away to Fresno, where I was denied rental car service for not having a utility bill.
I had a Tina Turner moment where I walked into a Holiday Inn at the Fresno airport and said "I have $100 and these shoes, and I am a day late home and I miss my dogs, and my car is broke. And I need a parking space and a room or I will be sleeping in my car in a ditch."
They gave me a room. Thank you team member,Raquel. You are Fresno's finest. Is your brother gay?
Today, I was towed to a Pep Boys to have my car fixed for an additional $500. While I was waiting, I walked to the Nissan dealership 2.5 miles away and began a 10 hour negotiation for a new car that included reimbursement for Sirius radio, a bailout on the Pep Boys repairs, and a fully loaded package.
After signing all the paperwork and agreeing to a price and finance percent, I transferred insurance, and cleaned out the truck, leaving it at pep boys 2.5 miles away.
Then they told me there was a problem.
I needed to put $1500 more down. Which I don't have. I began to cry but held back. I screamed the f word and threatened to call the police. I'd already signed the deal and been given keys. I became my mother. She was on the phone with me while I did it, and later told me she's never been prouder.
And now, I am tpro humble new owner of a Nissan SEANtra, special edition package, all black with moonroof...and buttons that control the windows. I'm rich!
This was a hard couple of days. I felt like I was in the wiz and everyone was either a good witch or a bad witch, and poppys were all over the place trying to shake me down. and by poppys I mean non-preferred tow truck drivers.
I'm so happy to be home more than anything. I missed Ralph and Cricket this trip like never before. And tonight I'm going to sleep well knowing I made it out of Hell (yes, Central California is in fact, Hell), better than when I entered it.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
My car broke down in Firebaugh, CA yesterday on my way home from the most magical weekend of my life. I was towed to an auto shop in Mendota, which is like Rosarito,Mexico minus the hospitality. The auto shop fixed the car, then it brome down 10 miles after I left they were closed by then, so I had to be towed 80 miles away to Fresno, where I was denied rental car service for not having a utility bill.
I had a Tina Turner moment where I walked into a Holiday Inn at the Fresno airport and said "I have $100 and these shoes, and I am a day late home and I miss my dogs, and my car is broke. And I need a parking space and a room or I will be sleeping in my car in a ditch."
They gave me a room. Thank you team member,Raquel. You are Fresno's finest. Is your brother gay?
Today, I was towed to a Pep Boys to have my car fixed for an additional $500. While I was waiting, I walked to the Nissan dealership 2.5 miles away and began a 10 hour negotiation for a new car that included reimbursement for Sirius radio, a bailout on the Pep Boys repairs, and a fully loaded package.
After signing all the paperwork and agreeing to a price and finance percent, I transferred insurance, and cleaned out the truck, leaving it at pep boys 2.5 miles away.
Then they told me there was a problem.
I needed to put $1500 more down. Which I don't have. I began to cry but held back. I screamed the f word and threatened to call the police. I'd already signed the deal and been given keys. I became my mother. She was on the phone with me while I did it, and later told me she's never been prouder.
And now, I am tpro humble new owner of a Nissan SEANtra, special edition package, all black with moonroof...and buttons that control the windows. I'm rich!
This was a hard couple of days. I felt like I was in the wiz and everyone was either a good witch or a bad witch, and poppys were all over the place trying to shake me down. and by poppys I mean non-preferred tow truck drivers.
I'm so happy to be home more than anything. I missed Ralph and Cricket this trip like never before. And tonight I'm going to sleep well knowing I made it out of Hell (yes, Central California is in fact, Hell), better than when I entered it.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Friday, April 15, 2011
Britain's Got Sean
Tonight, I got to ring the Great British Happy Hour Bell at work. It ruled. The UK is a little more trashy.
Monday, April 11, 2011
My first week!
Week One of my newest fitness scam is finished as of tonight. See, I always celebrate New Years Eve on Wrestlemania Sunday, which was last weekend. So On New Years Day, April 4, 2011 I started with my 'full steam ahead' OPERATION 2007 plan.
Exercise:
This week I went to Barry's bootcamp on Friday night as usual and found a sub, whom I hated. The normal teacher is this fellow David who is like a very deep voiced Southern twink and he is fantastic. His favorite phrase is "Let's go, Baby!" and he's very supportive and happy. We love David. His replacement was your typical overdeveloped pecs and skinny-calved dub-step himbo (homo/bimbo) who probably has an online profile claiming to be masculine looking for same, all the while planning his Halloween costume as a sexy Smurfette.
Regardless, I also ran on two Sundays in a row with my new friend, Tim who I'm faster than (which rules) for 6.5 miles each, and also midweek for 3.1 miles in preparation for the Brentwood Run and the Pride Run which I May make my long awaited return to participate in during May and June. I lifted weights on Thursday and Saturday and walked the dogs their usual 75 minute trip to nowhere almost every day. Also, I lifted to failure on my chest and back and legs but not shoulders.
Oh, I have a crush on a guy in Sacramento and I'm going there next weekend so I've been doing 70 pushups a day and 70 crunches when I wake up so tht when I see him he cant do anything but make love to me 70 times in front of the Folsom City Hall. Is that weird?
Diet:
I bought the 17 Day Diet because I am an asshole and love reading fitness books. This diet is not bullshit but...but...but...I was so cranky by day 2 I had to add more carbohydrates. I was only getting fruit and veggie carbs and at one point I called a coworker a dirty, stinking whore to her face. After I punched her. Then I realized she wasnt a coworker but a transient. I was dizzy with hunger. So I kept the breakfast they suggest (two eggs an orange and green tea) but added a scoop of protein to water (IsoPure chocolate mint) and Iced Coffee (black, like my men) and rolled the eggs in pepper and mustard seeds. For mid-day snack they recommend nonfat greek yogurt with blueberries (or another fruit) and stevia/truvia to taste. I use Splenda. Stevia is gross. for lunch i kept their plan, lettuce and chicken (I used spinach and arugula) but added a small scoop of brown rice or wheat toast with JR's BBQ sauce. For mid afternoon snack its an apple.
The hardest part of the day is from my apple to my dinner, or 4PM-7PM.
Dinner is the same as lunch, minus the toast/rice, add another scoop of protein.
And I will say, on Saturday and Sunday I went to Tender Greens and ate healthy but indulgent salads. I had a turkey burger Sunday.
So I modified by adding whole grains, and using Splenda, and cheating within reason on the weekends...
And I lost 2 pounds.
So I'm at 173 now. I feel pretty good, not deprived (except for 4-7PM). And weirdly, by eating less, I have more energy. And people are telling me I look skinnier...when I stand in front of them and say "DON'T I LOOK AMAZING?"
Exercise:
This week I went to Barry's bootcamp on Friday night as usual and found a sub, whom I hated. The normal teacher is this fellow David who is like a very deep voiced Southern twink and he is fantastic. His favorite phrase is "Let's go, Baby!" and he's very supportive and happy. We love David. His replacement was your typical overdeveloped pecs and skinny-calved dub-step himbo (homo/bimbo) who probably has an online profile claiming to be masculine looking for same, all the while planning his Halloween costume as a sexy Smurfette.
Regardless, I also ran on two Sundays in a row with my new friend, Tim who I'm faster than (which rules) for 6.5 miles each, and also midweek for 3.1 miles in preparation for the Brentwood Run and the Pride Run which I May make my long awaited return to participate in during May and June. I lifted weights on Thursday and Saturday and walked the dogs their usual 75 minute trip to nowhere almost every day. Also, I lifted to failure on my chest and back and legs but not shoulders.
Oh, I have a crush on a guy in Sacramento and I'm going there next weekend so I've been doing 70 pushups a day and 70 crunches when I wake up so tht when I see him he cant do anything but make love to me 70 times in front of the Folsom City Hall. Is that weird?
Diet:
I bought the 17 Day Diet because I am an asshole and love reading fitness books. This diet is not bullshit but...but...but...I was so cranky by day 2 I had to add more carbohydrates. I was only getting fruit and veggie carbs and at one point I called a coworker a dirty, stinking whore to her face. After I punched her. Then I realized she wasnt a coworker but a transient. I was dizzy with hunger. So I kept the breakfast they suggest (two eggs an orange and green tea) but added a scoop of protein to water (IsoPure chocolate mint) and Iced Coffee (black, like my men) and rolled the eggs in pepper and mustard seeds. For mid-day snack they recommend nonfat greek yogurt with blueberries (or another fruit) and stevia/truvia to taste. I use Splenda. Stevia is gross. for lunch i kept their plan, lettuce and chicken (I used spinach and arugula) but added a small scoop of brown rice or wheat toast with JR's BBQ sauce. For mid afternoon snack its an apple.
The hardest part of the day is from my apple to my dinner, or 4PM-7PM.
Dinner is the same as lunch, minus the toast/rice, add another scoop of protein.
And I will say, on Saturday and Sunday I went to Tender Greens and ate healthy but indulgent salads. I had a turkey burger Sunday.
So I modified by adding whole grains, and using Splenda, and cheating within reason on the weekends...
And I lost 2 pounds.
So I'm at 173 now. I feel pretty good, not deprived (except for 4-7PM). And weirdly, by eating less, I have more energy. And people are telling me I look skinnier...when I stand in front of them and say "DON'T I LOOK AMAZING?"
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Why Not Try
It's not that i hate my body, because I don't--i think it's kinda sexy. I don't look like everyone else. I have a big chest but it's not dented with muscle like the steel on a Transformer. You can see my ab muscles if I take a deep breath and raise my hands high, but it's shielded by a layer of fat that has spread slowly since 2007 when I was at my leanest--which still carried a minimal but conspicuous tarp of loose skin. My legs are hairy but strong, and my butt got itself a ego.
But back in late 2008 I stepped on a scale and noticed something that really scared me, in a year and a half I'd gained 25 pounds.
See, by may of 2007 I had reached my lowest weight as an adult. 165 pounds. I was 12% body fat and I looked good, Baby. But after giving up fitness for new experiences, I lost track of my fitness. And worse, I was a full time personal trainer. I was 190 f'ing pounds.
And now, two and a half years later, after my heaviest moment since my major weight loss, I'm in a good place. I lost half of those 25 pounds i gained. But I'm not in a great place. But its not horrible. I no longer time the hours between meals. I only work out once a day, and if I feel like eating the whole sandwich I do...
But...
I think I could look better, and feel better, too.
I noticed it late last year when I was teaching spin class. I was the heaviest person in the class. And I was briefly ashamed of that. At 177 pounds and five foot ten I felt like a fraud. So I came home and got drunk to cut myself some slack. That was thanksgiving morning, so it felt appropriate.
I said to myself, "I just won't get heavier than this.". And I didn't. And I haven't.
But my curiosity is this...
Can I look and feel like I did back in 2007 without being the psychopath I was then? Can I manage the twists and turns of life and career and the dogs and boys and boredom and sadness and celebration with my health and fitness the way all of you normal people do? Or am I broken? Or is everything fine the way it is?
So, last month I started by going back to the gym 4 days a week, just to start to feel stronger. And I finally do. My cardio levels feel like 2007. im still in a weight class that isn't ideal--around 165 seems great, but I also do really feel ok with how I look.
What I don't feel comfortable with is my eating behavior. I still eat too much. I still don't always plan ahead. I still eat too often. But I'm much better off than I was in 2008.
So to my readers who followed me back in 2007 as I got psycho skinny, welcome back. Today, I am 175. My newest experiment is to see if I can get to 164.9 without losing my mind or making others miserable. Join me, won't you?
Here are my overall goals:
sweat like hell during every work out.
Do not cause myself pain by working out too much or too hard.
Get back to a 43 minute 10K run
Fit in my 31 jeans
Inspire others
Eat Portions planned in advance. Do not throw food surprise parties.
Be ok going to bed hungry.
Sleep better.
Be 164.9 pounds by around mid July
Get new headshots taken
Dance naked alone
Let's go!
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad.
But back in late 2008 I stepped on a scale and noticed something that really scared me, in a year and a half I'd gained 25 pounds.
See, by may of 2007 I had reached my lowest weight as an adult. 165 pounds. I was 12% body fat and I looked good, Baby. But after giving up fitness for new experiences, I lost track of my fitness. And worse, I was a full time personal trainer. I was 190 f'ing pounds.
And now, two and a half years later, after my heaviest moment since my major weight loss, I'm in a good place. I lost half of those 25 pounds i gained. But I'm not in a great place. But its not horrible. I no longer time the hours between meals. I only work out once a day, and if I feel like eating the whole sandwich I do...
But...
I think I could look better, and feel better, too.
I noticed it late last year when I was teaching spin class. I was the heaviest person in the class. And I was briefly ashamed of that. At 177 pounds and five foot ten I felt like a fraud. So I came home and got drunk to cut myself some slack. That was thanksgiving morning, so it felt appropriate.
I said to myself, "I just won't get heavier than this.". And I didn't. And I haven't.
But my curiosity is this...
Can I look and feel like I did back in 2007 without being the psychopath I was then? Can I manage the twists and turns of life and career and the dogs and boys and boredom and sadness and celebration with my health and fitness the way all of you normal people do? Or am I broken? Or is everything fine the way it is?
So, last month I started by going back to the gym 4 days a week, just to start to feel stronger. And I finally do. My cardio levels feel like 2007. im still in a weight class that isn't ideal--around 165 seems great, but I also do really feel ok with how I look.
What I don't feel comfortable with is my eating behavior. I still eat too much. I still don't always plan ahead. I still eat too often. But I'm much better off than I was in 2008.
So to my readers who followed me back in 2007 as I got psycho skinny, welcome back. Today, I am 175. My newest experiment is to see if I can get to 164.9 without losing my mind or making others miserable. Join me, won't you?
Here are my overall goals:
sweat like hell during every work out.
Do not cause myself pain by working out too much or too hard.
Get back to a 43 minute 10K run
Fit in my 31 jeans
Inspire others
Eat Portions planned in advance. Do not throw food surprise parties.
Be ok going to bed hungry.
Sleep better.
Be 164.9 pounds by around mid July
Get new headshots taken
Dance naked alone
Let's go!
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Finally the Spin Has COME BACK to SEAN
8:15a Sunday Morning 3/27
Train LA CIENEGA and MELROSE in West Hollywood
S&M/Rihanna
For the First Time/The Script
Written in the Stars/Tinie Tempah
Sure Thing/Miguel
Turn on the Radio/Reba
This I Promise You/N*Sync
Sweet Transvestite/Glee Cast
True/Ryan Cabrera
Brown Eyed Girl/Van Morrison
I'm Coming Out/Diana Ross
No Bullshit/Chris Brown
More/Usher
Cool Down: Step In the Name of Love (Remix)/R. Kelley
Train LA CIENEGA and MELROSE in West Hollywood
S&M/Rihanna
For the First Time/The Script
Written in the Stars/Tinie Tempah
Sure Thing/Miguel
Turn on the Radio/Reba
This I Promise You/N*Sync
Sweet Transvestite/Glee Cast
True/Ryan Cabrera
Brown Eyed Girl/Van Morrison
I'm Coming Out/Diana Ross
No Bullshit/Chris Brown
More/Usher
Cool Down: Step In the Name of Love (Remix)/R. Kelley
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
4:50
In my new job I've been getting up so much earlier than I ever have. Sometimes at ten until five, that'd be 4:50. Yes. 4:50AM. I'm getting up early because now that my life is so regular I want to make sure I'm using the time to write and go for a run or dog walk or a combination thereof. And it's really draining. It's been five weeks and I'm still not used to it. I've always been a morning person, but morning for me was always getting up at around 7:30. This getting up before the sun rises sucks balls.
I don't mind going to bed early. There comes a point in the day that I don't have anything left to contribute. The dishes are drying. The dogs have pottied. Modern Family is a rerun. And I can't see straight anymore. I go to bed then. But then I don't go to sleep. I iPad. I read a book or I think about what it will one day be like to be mayor of Palm Springs. Now it's midnight.
I used to have an Ambien problem, and in the last year I've even used other things that I'm not real proud of to get to sleep. The problem with any kind of sedative is that it makes you tired the next day because the sleep you're getting isn't authentic. Then it's caffeine time at 4:50 AM. And again at 7:50AM, and at 1PM. And 4PM. Oh the crime of it all!
In my dream life I get up at 7:30AM. I nap at 2PM. I go to sleep at midnight. Rinse, and Repeat. But this is the retired life I think. Hey, this isn't such a bad idea...
I don't mind going to bed early. There comes a point in the day that I don't have anything left to contribute. The dishes are drying. The dogs have pottied. Modern Family is a rerun. And I can't see straight anymore. I go to bed then. But then I don't go to sleep. I iPad. I read a book or I think about what it will one day be like to be mayor of Palm Springs. Now it's midnight.
I used to have an Ambien problem, and in the last year I've even used other things that I'm not real proud of to get to sleep. The problem with any kind of sedative is that it makes you tired the next day because the sleep you're getting isn't authentic. Then it's caffeine time at 4:50 AM. And again at 7:50AM, and at 1PM. And 4PM. Oh the crime of it all!
In my dream life I get up at 7:30AM. I nap at 2PM. I go to sleep at midnight. Rinse, and Repeat. But this is the retired life I think. Hey, this isn't such a bad idea...
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
I WILL
I will have a creative job before I die. I will be 161 pounds and not notice. I will drive a red car. I will fall in love again and this time know it's real. I will enjoy corn. I will be able to have a conversation with my mother that feels normal. I will not have a green room. I will live in a house with a bathroom window. I will get an iPad 2. I will see a good movie that everyone else likes, too. I will have an office of my own. I will get Ralph's teeth professionally cleaned. I will go to Yosemite. I will start beginning sentences with words other than 'I.'
If I say it will happen, it will. I used to say the below, which have happened:
I will learn to not hate meditation. I will learn to drive. I will be on TV. I will lose 100 pounds. I will come out to my parents. I will be published. I will meet Reba. I will replace my shoes. I will find out the truth. I will go to Wrestlemania. I will have anal. I will get an iphone. I will get an iphone 4. I will get an iPad. I will go to Palm Springs. I will forgive them. I will forgive them, too. I will validate my SPG points for a free nights stay. I will have sex with every race at least once to prove I'm not a bigot.
You just have to say it, and Care Bear stare at it, and someday it happens.
If I say it will happen, it will. I used to say the below, which have happened:
I will learn to not hate meditation. I will learn to drive. I will be on TV. I will lose 100 pounds. I will come out to my parents. I will be published. I will meet Reba. I will replace my shoes. I will find out the truth. I will go to Wrestlemania. I will have anal. I will get an iphone. I will get an iphone 4. I will get an iPad. I will go to Palm Springs. I will forgive them. I will forgive them, too. I will validate my SPG points for a free nights stay. I will have sex with every race at least once to prove I'm not a bigot.
You just have to say it, and Care Bear stare at it, and someday it happens.
Monday, March 21, 2011
Thick-skinned
No matter how old I get, I never stop worrying that I've hurt someone's feelings or wonder if I lived wrong by somehow not treating someone like I want to be treated. When I know I've fucked up all I want is to make it right--I hate seeing anyone hurting at my expense. And I know people are tough, thick-skinned, probably more than I am. But that doesn't change the fact that causing a frowny face on anyone makes it impossible for me to sleep.
Still, I flip off old people who drive like shit. I gossip at coworkers. I avoid returning a one night stands texts. I cut in line at movies. I argue over customer service. I write jokes about incurable disease. But I'm trying to be better, all the time. And it's becoming easier to say, "will the wisecracks be worth the restless night?". Almost always, the answer is no.
Almost.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Still, I flip off old people who drive like shit. I gossip at coworkers. I avoid returning a one night stands texts. I cut in line at movies. I argue over customer service. I write jokes about incurable disease. But I'm trying to be better, all the time. And it's becoming easier to say, "will the wisecracks be worth the restless night?". Almost always, the answer is no.
Almost.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Friday, March 18, 2011
Friday, March 11, 2011
My New Favorite
Because he's just so cool, please welcome your next World Heaviweight Champion, ALBERRRTOOO
DEL
RRRIIIOOOOOOOOO!
There is no such thing as free food
I used to have a job where we had free food everyday. Lunch was catered daily, snacks were abundant and exactly what I liked (I bought them for the office), and the drinks were milky and cold. And when we were out of food, we'd go get food out as a group. And I would look around and think, this is the life. This is why I don't work at a Pet store or at a payroll company in Simi Valley.
And then I gained weight, and I talked about it a little and I learned: food is never free.
Food has caloric value, and food came from somewhere that prepared it that cost time and movement. Food makes people bigger when over-consumed and it makes you sick under the same circumstances. Then you need new jeans, or have doctor bills and those cost money--that means the food is not free.
So no matter how poor you are, remember that it doesn't help to stash away for the winter with the free food being placed above you. Just because you're sad, or mad, or angry or bored, or empty doesn't mean that free food will fix it. Just go write for fifteen minutes. And before you know it, it'll be six-o-clock.
And then I gained weight, and I talked about it a little and I learned: food is never free.
Food has caloric value, and food came from somewhere that prepared it that cost time and movement. Food makes people bigger when over-consumed and it makes you sick under the same circumstances. Then you need new jeans, or have doctor bills and those cost money--that means the food is not free.
So no matter how poor you are, remember that it doesn't help to stash away for the winter with the free food being placed above you. Just because you're sad, or mad, or angry or bored, or empty doesn't mean that free food will fix it. Just go write for fifteen minutes. And before you know it, it'll be six-o-clock.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Boo this Way
I find this new Lady Gaga gay anthem to be kind of shitty. There is nothing less sexy than watching gay men lipsynch it at clubs. Truly, I will avoid gay pride this year because I know it will be on a loop of "him or capital H-I-M" (worst. line. ever)
First of all, I don't understand why it's so newsworthy that a white girl from Manhattan is pro-gay. What? She plays piano and was an outcast in high school AND she supports marriage equality? It'd be different if it was like, a housewife of Atlanta who ordained herself for a man on man committment ceremony. Then, I'd be impressed.
But the whole idea of the "Born This Way" or the "It's not a choice" argument is so annoying. I'm an American, God Fucking Damn it. Whether I choose to be gay or not doesn't matter. I'll fuck or engage whatever adult I want, and saying "Why would I choose this life?" repulses me. And when you say "I was born this way" It sounds like you're saying "please don't kick me, I have Cerebral Policy" and I don't think gayness is a handicap. If it is, then I choose Cerebral Palsy.
Being gay is way cool. There are no kids, no earning sex, more vacation time, and a sense of truth you can't get from sizze 38 jeans. Thank you, thank you very much.
Also, the video is dumb. It's Lady Gaga in her underpants dancing for no apparent reason, with weird looking hair and her dumb nose, and no real symbol of LGBT rights other than the gay back up dancers that are IN EVERY VIDEO from Janet Jackson to Michael Buble.
I talked about this last night at my show in Silverlake and the audience became completely uncomfortable and totally silent. Still, I appreciate that they "forgave" me and allowed me to move on to Maya Angelou, (another broad I can't stand) and cause what we in the biz call a KILL (getting really big laughs). I'm shocked though that Gaga has become the "too soon" topic though, and that she's revered as this God-like figure, for doing very little, really for our people.
Grindr and Adam 4 Adam profiles say "BrNTHUSWEY" and other ridiculous things. I mean, gay people are really smitten by her, and maybe it's because she's a mess like our mothers, or has admitted to cocaine use--or maybe it's because she kind of looks like the cool babysitter we had as kids who would let us eat the cookie dough and dance to Tiffany songs. Or maybe her music is good, but I still haven't heard something that was anything more than ok-to-listen-to and pass the time while Howard Stern is on a commercial break.
I don't need nor do I want this woman speaking for me. I hate that when I come out to someone they immediately ask me what row I sat in at her concert, as if she's the new Brokeback Mountain premiere. She's not.
First of all, I don't understand why it's so newsworthy that a white girl from Manhattan is pro-gay. What? She plays piano and was an outcast in high school AND she supports marriage equality? It'd be different if it was like, a housewife of Atlanta who ordained herself for a man on man committment ceremony. Then, I'd be impressed.
But the whole idea of the "Born This Way" or the "It's not a choice" argument is so annoying. I'm an American, God Fucking Damn it. Whether I choose to be gay or not doesn't matter. I'll fuck or engage whatever adult I want, and saying "Why would I choose this life?" repulses me. And when you say "I was born this way" It sounds like you're saying "please don't kick me, I have Cerebral Policy" and I don't think gayness is a handicap. If it is, then I choose Cerebral Palsy.
Being gay is way cool. There are no kids, no earning sex, more vacation time, and a sense of truth you can't get from sizze 38 jeans. Thank you, thank you very much.
Also, the video is dumb. It's Lady Gaga in her underpants dancing for no apparent reason, with weird looking hair and her dumb nose, and no real symbol of LGBT rights other than the gay back up dancers that are IN EVERY VIDEO from Janet Jackson to Michael Buble.
I talked about this last night at my show in Silverlake and the audience became completely uncomfortable and totally silent. Still, I appreciate that they "forgave" me and allowed me to move on to Maya Angelou, (another broad I can't stand) and cause what we in the biz call a KILL (getting really big laughs). I'm shocked though that Gaga has become the "too soon" topic though, and that she's revered as this God-like figure, for doing very little, really for our people.
Grindr and Adam 4 Adam profiles say "BrNTHUSWEY" and other ridiculous things. I mean, gay people are really smitten by her, and maybe it's because she's a mess like our mothers, or has admitted to cocaine use--or maybe it's because she kind of looks like the cool babysitter we had as kids who would let us eat the cookie dough and dance to Tiffany songs. Or maybe her music is good, but I still haven't heard something that was anything more than ok-to-listen-to and pass the time while Howard Stern is on a commercial break.
I don't need nor do I want this woman speaking for me. I hate that when I come out to someone they immediately ask me what row I sat in at her concert, as if she's the new Brokeback Mountain premiere. She's not.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
The True Story of Wrestlemania
24 DAYS! It's almost time. And this will get you going! McMahon is in tears!
Sunday, March 6, 2011
The Gay Rainbow - Jimmy Nguyen
http://sdgln.com/commentary/2011/03/05/commentary-gaysians-are-beautiful
An attorney and editorial writer, Jimmy Nguyen has written the above article that came across my desk this week and left me feeling a little disturbed. Jimmy has identified a problem in the gay community:
the gay world has a mixed relationship with race.
OK. Fair enough. Where does Jimmy think this comes from, though? Could it have anything to do with the fact that race has a mixed relationship with gay? He believes that the ideal man throughout our country is viewed unfairly as white, which in a world of the Rock, Derek Jeter, Harry Shum, and Bruno Mars is an outdated observation. And While Nguyen admits to not having any statistical evidence to his claim, or to a consensus that gay men are mostly attracted to white guys, he's written a piece with a challenge to the gay community to start looking within people to find inner beauty before tossing someone into the slush pile. The problem, is that we all like what we like. And the smarter, cooler, kinder people like a little more, while the dumber, gayer, and bitchier are more closed-minded, but that's their loss. His article seems to be in trying to broker some sort of treaty with horrible people to like him more.
Nguyen also admits that he generally has a fetish for white guys, and that he doesn't fit into the Asian stereotypes that he has proclaimed as being skinny, submissive, effeminate and like rice. I can tell you that I have been around gay Asian men since I came out and none of them have been this stereotype, but do I detect a tiny amount of misogyny, not racism here? That being effeminate, more lady-like, is the actual problem?
He has said he doesn't fit the stereotypes of his Asian brothers because he is fiercely independent and muscular, and I think this is the point in the article when I began to cringe.
I am not perfect looking like the white Adonis Nguyen seems to secretly idealize but also view as being the man the media and gay society have anointed as the end all, be all beauty. I have weird skin from my weight loss. My hair has started to gain a little gray. I'm 5' 10" and I have size 13 feet. I rarely trim my pubes. I often times don't wear shoes. I make OK money but nothing special, and I have a green bedroom. But if for one second I felt like I wasn't getting laid over these imperfections, I would have to have a serious conversation with myself before making a suggestion to the gay community that we re-classify our priorities.
I've dated Asian guys and White guys and Black guys. I had a boyfriend with one nut once. I also was really into a guy who worked at Starbucks for a while and had nothing but a child support payment to work off. This wasn't because he was Latino. I was into him because he laughed at my jokes, had a big weiner, and was a project I could fix. I didn't date the Asian guy because he was either effeminate or independent. I dated him because he was hot and he was funny. The black guy I dated liked good music. The white guy was really kind and he looked like a cross between Ben Stiller and Prince William and at that time, I found that smokin hot. We like what we like when we like it. You cant find any data on this because there isn't any, because it's not so simple as to say White guys just aren't into Asians because there's never been an Asian Superman.
I guess my point is, if your call to action is only dated at the white guys you see at AIDS fundraisers, Equinox, and Cherry Pop or Basix, you're missing out on the type of men who actually matter. The Silverlake gays who take care of their mommas, the newly out Asian guy who moved here from Daly City to be an engineer and has a tattoo on his leg, and the black guy who designs video games aren't going to the places where the popular kids go. They don't give a shit about raising money for the WeHo city council. They live in a bigger world. And they're more fun, anyway.
And further, if you believe the problem is that gay men "need" to embrace a more universal sense of beauty, then you're no different than the Fundamentalist Christian who thinks people "need" to stop being gay. We are all into what we are into. If a White guy wants a guy who looks exactly like him, then great. One less I have to deal with at Crunch. If an ex military bottom wants a really butch guy who wears Dock Martins to foot-fist him, well then fabulous. But if what you want doesn't want you back, you just have to start looking elsewhere and quit fighting something that will never treat you with the respect and love and devotion you truly deserve and desire.
To all of the Asian guys out there who feel discriminated in the dating pool, I say this to you: I love you (and not just because you're Asian), and trust me, you don't want these closed-minded fags anyway. They're so much drama. They tan too much. They like shitty music. And they will bail as soon as the going gets tough. Outside of that hot night of drunken sex they're having with your white "wing man" instead of you, a real relationship either gay or straight is not about race or fetish. It's about trust, and grocery bills, and turning the bathroom fan on, and holding each other when a parent dies. In those moments being fat, femme, or Asian doesn't fucking matter.
An attorney and editorial writer, Jimmy Nguyen has written the above article that came across my desk this week and left me feeling a little disturbed. Jimmy has identified a problem in the gay community:
the gay world has a mixed relationship with race.
OK. Fair enough. Where does Jimmy think this comes from, though? Could it have anything to do with the fact that race has a mixed relationship with gay? He believes that the ideal man throughout our country is viewed unfairly as white, which in a world of the Rock, Derek Jeter, Harry Shum, and Bruno Mars is an outdated observation. And While Nguyen admits to not having any statistical evidence to his claim, or to a consensus that gay men are mostly attracted to white guys, he's written a piece with a challenge to the gay community to start looking within people to find inner beauty before tossing someone into the slush pile. The problem, is that we all like what we like. And the smarter, cooler, kinder people like a little more, while the dumber, gayer, and bitchier are more closed-minded, but that's their loss. His article seems to be in trying to broker some sort of treaty with horrible people to like him more.
Nguyen also admits that he generally has a fetish for white guys, and that he doesn't fit into the Asian stereotypes that he has proclaimed as being skinny, submissive, effeminate and like rice. I can tell you that I have been around gay Asian men since I came out and none of them have been this stereotype, but do I detect a tiny amount of misogyny, not racism here? That being effeminate, more lady-like, is the actual problem?
He has said he doesn't fit the stereotypes of his Asian brothers because he is fiercely independent and muscular, and I think this is the point in the article when I began to cringe.
I am not perfect looking like the white Adonis Nguyen seems to secretly idealize but also view as being the man the media and gay society have anointed as the end all, be all beauty. I have weird skin from my weight loss. My hair has started to gain a little gray. I'm 5' 10" and I have size 13 feet. I rarely trim my pubes. I often times don't wear shoes. I make OK money but nothing special, and I have a green bedroom. But if for one second I felt like I wasn't getting laid over these imperfections, I would have to have a serious conversation with myself before making a suggestion to the gay community that we re-classify our priorities.
I've dated Asian guys and White guys and Black guys. I had a boyfriend with one nut once. I also was really into a guy who worked at Starbucks for a while and had nothing but a child support payment to work off. This wasn't because he was Latino. I was into him because he laughed at my jokes, had a big weiner, and was a project I could fix. I didn't date the Asian guy because he was either effeminate or independent. I dated him because he was hot and he was funny. The black guy I dated liked good music. The white guy was really kind and he looked like a cross between Ben Stiller and Prince William and at that time, I found that smokin hot. We like what we like when we like it. You cant find any data on this because there isn't any, because it's not so simple as to say White guys just aren't into Asians because there's never been an Asian Superman.
I guess my point is, if your call to action is only dated at the white guys you see at AIDS fundraisers, Equinox, and Cherry Pop or Basix, you're missing out on the type of men who actually matter. The Silverlake gays who take care of their mommas, the newly out Asian guy who moved here from Daly City to be an engineer and has a tattoo on his leg, and the black guy who designs video games aren't going to the places where the popular kids go. They don't give a shit about raising money for the WeHo city council. They live in a bigger world. And they're more fun, anyway.
And further, if you believe the problem is that gay men "need" to embrace a more universal sense of beauty, then you're no different than the Fundamentalist Christian who thinks people "need" to stop being gay. We are all into what we are into. If a White guy wants a guy who looks exactly like him, then great. One less I have to deal with at Crunch. If an ex military bottom wants a really butch guy who wears Dock Martins to foot-fist him, well then fabulous. But if what you want doesn't want you back, you just have to start looking elsewhere and quit fighting something that will never treat you with the respect and love and devotion you truly deserve and desire.
To all of the Asian guys out there who feel discriminated in the dating pool, I say this to you: I love you (and not just because you're Asian), and trust me, you don't want these closed-minded fags anyway. They're so much drama. They tan too much. They like shitty music. And they will bail as soon as the going gets tough. Outside of that hot night of drunken sex they're having with your white "wing man" instead of you, a real relationship either gay or straight is not about race or fetish. It's about trust, and grocery bills, and turning the bathroom fan on, and holding each other when a parent dies. In those moments being fat, femme, or Asian doesn't fucking matter.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
David Levithan
I just interviewed David Levithan for the Lambda Review on his new book, The Lover's Dictionary. Look for the interview soon. It was a wonderful book that you can buy right here.
Monday, February 28, 2011
What is your moment?
My goal in 2011 is to have more of these. What's your defining life moment? (BTW, we are just 33 days away from Wrestlemania 27).
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Get there
I just don't love sex. I like it fine, but I don't love it. It's like that show Cougartown. If it's on my TiVo for the first five minutes after Modern Family, sure, I'll watch. I'll roll my eyes mostly and remember why I only do it for four minutes.
I find the process to be tedious. If I'm on a date, and it goes well, does that mean we see where it goes and get naked? Or should I adopt female-driven, hetero-judeo-christian norms and play hard to get (and call an fbuddy after he drops me off). If I don't like the guy, is that more reason to hook up, and then never call again? "sorry, I just work a tonnnnnnnn!"
Then there's the cuddling. I'm not a huge cuddler post sex unless I'm in love. I more want to play Scrabble on the iPad in silence. ("stop moaning and eating my ass! I can't keep shuffling these letters god damn it") I also don't typically want a sleepover unless I know ill be getting a long nap the next day because I worry all night about the safety of my wallet.
Here's what I like: clothing removal, and the end. I prefer simultaneous endings so neither me or my man have to act like live phone sex operators to help the other forget his mommy issues and GET THERE.
Then I like a clean towel, which you rarely find in travel, which is why i don't tend to visit the homes of others unless they are famous out gay authors or out gay pop music icons who appreciate fine linens and dark eyeliner (no, not you George Michael! I'll host!).
And regardless of if it was good or bad, I want a kind smile, and a text that says, "thanks, that was really fun.". Because that's what sex should be: fun. Then over, for the next fun activity, which right now is going to be a brownie and sleepy time tea.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
I find the process to be tedious. If I'm on a date, and it goes well, does that mean we see where it goes and get naked? Or should I adopt female-driven, hetero-judeo-christian norms and play hard to get (and call an fbuddy after he drops me off). If I don't like the guy, is that more reason to hook up, and then never call again? "sorry, I just work a tonnnnnnnn!"
Then there's the cuddling. I'm not a huge cuddler post sex unless I'm in love. I more want to play Scrabble on the iPad in silence. ("stop moaning and eating my ass! I can't keep shuffling these letters god damn it") I also don't typically want a sleepover unless I know ill be getting a long nap the next day because I worry all night about the safety of my wallet.
Here's what I like: clothing removal, and the end. I prefer simultaneous endings so neither me or my man have to act like live phone sex operators to help the other forget his mommy issues and GET THERE.
Then I like a clean towel, which you rarely find in travel, which is why i don't tend to visit the homes of others unless they are famous out gay authors or out gay pop music icons who appreciate fine linens and dark eyeliner (no, not you George Michael! I'll host!).
And regardless of if it was good or bad, I want a kind smile, and a text that says, "thanks, that was really fun.". Because that's what sex should be: fun. Then over, for the next fun activity, which right now is going to be a brownie and sleepy time tea.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Monday, February 21, 2011
Crash
I have a recurring dream where I am in a single-engine plane flying above Point Bonita, just outside San Francisco, and I am drunk. I am the co-pilot, and the other pilot is a clown with a Rainbow colored wig and a bloody mouth. He is laughing too hard, like he is stoned or just evil or both.
We are going to crash, not into the water, but the rocky area where the lighthouse sits. There are beached seals with bright blue dead eyes waiting for me to crash, so that I may be like them: sedentary, fat, old school.
When I awake I have indigestion. I ate too much the night before.
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We are going to crash, not into the water, but the rocky area where the lighthouse sits. There are beached seals with bright blue dead eyes waiting for me to crash, so that I may be like them: sedentary, fat, old school.
When I awake I have indigestion. I ate too much the night before.
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Monday, February 14, 2011
You can't get a man with a gun
My dad and I went to the Sacramento Valley Shooting range yesterday and had such fun time together. He's a big gun-toted now, which freaks me the fuck out. I remembered though, that I was nAturally really dope at rifle shooting in cub scouts though, so we spent the morning shooting targets. I even used a .357 Magnum and this is what I did to that son of a bitch.
I've never seen my dad this happy, and I spent most of the six hour drive back to LA wiping tears away from my eyes over that.
Not since I finished college have I seen my dad take so many pictures. We talked so much, too. Perfect weather. I learned so much about safety and posture and technique, but the best part was seeing dad smile at the son who is a natural born killer.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
I've never seen my dad this happy, and I spent most of the six hour drive back to LA wiping tears away from my eyes over that.
Not since I finished college have I seen my dad take so many pictures. We talked so much, too. Perfect weather. I learned so much about safety and posture and technique, but the best part was seeing dad smile at the son who is a natural born killer.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Unshaking
The last month has been insane. I have been contemplating so much change. I took a new job after so much thought over where I want to live and what I want to be doing. Do I want medical benefits or do I want the glamourous life? Do I miss my nieces and nephews and psedudo brothers and sisters enough to move home and work at Starbucks? Should I move to Los Feliz or closer to my new job or to Bakersfield to buy a home? Should the dogs switch to Revolution from Comfortis?
The truth is, I miss home. A lot. I think eventually I want to go back and live there and get the doggies a yard. I want to be an 11 in a C level gay town. I want to work at the governors office in advocacy. I want to have a picnic with free parking.
But I have unfinished business here.
I'm headed home tonight with the kids (woof!) with a quick stop in Yosemite to find Sheridan and ask why he didn't react better to Oprah. (how fucking crazy is Season 25 Behind the Scenes?!?). Maybe this trip will help me decide what I want to do.
I read a line from I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings last night that really hit me: of all the needs a lonely child has, the one that must be satisfied...is the unshaking need for an unshakable God.
I'm that lonely child right now. But there is hope.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
The truth is, I miss home. A lot. I think eventually I want to go back and live there and get the doggies a yard. I want to be an 11 in a C level gay town. I want to work at the governors office in advocacy. I want to have a picnic with free parking.
But I have unfinished business here.
I'm headed home tonight with the kids (woof!) with a quick stop in Yosemite to find Sheridan and ask why he didn't react better to Oprah. (how fucking crazy is Season 25 Behind the Scenes?!?). Maybe this trip will help me decide what I want to do.
I read a line from I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings last night that really hit me: of all the needs a lonely child has, the one that must be satisfied...is the unshaking need for an unshakable God.
I'm that lonely child right now. But there is hope.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Sunday, February 6, 2011
World
In my dream world, I don't even live in Los Angeles.
I live in the Elliot Building in Downtown Sacramento, in a fourth floor loft with windows that face the Memorial Auditorium, where I saw Muppets On Ice. I walk the dogs all the way to Mckinley Park and back everyday. I date a guy who works in politics or law, who holds my hand during dinner at Mikuni or Ernestos. And we discuss today's Howard Stern.
I make Northern California my Maine, a central character and muse like Stephen King has. Under stars I can see, I feel like I'm worth something. Fifteen miles away from my parents I feel I have an identity that I don't have to explain. In my perfect world, my nieces and nephews know my name, not where I work or what I do.
I have a nice life. Frills come every so often but that's what keeps them frills. I have electronic window shades and a Nissan Juke. And I laugh, too. I'm not always the funny one. Driving is a pleasure down highway 50 to Folsom Lake, not the nightmare of the 405.
After 11 years, I'm ready to feel my breath again. I'm ready to sleep and ready to wake up. In my ideal world, I'm back home.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
I live in the Elliot Building in Downtown Sacramento, in a fourth floor loft with windows that face the Memorial Auditorium, where I saw Muppets On Ice. I walk the dogs all the way to Mckinley Park and back everyday. I date a guy who works in politics or law, who holds my hand during dinner at Mikuni or Ernestos. And we discuss today's Howard Stern.
I make Northern California my Maine, a central character and muse like Stephen King has. Under stars I can see, I feel like I'm worth something. Fifteen miles away from my parents I feel I have an identity that I don't have to explain. In my perfect world, my nieces and nephews know my name, not where I work or what I do.
I have a nice life. Frills come every so often but that's what keeps them frills. I have electronic window shades and a Nissan Juke. And I laugh, too. I'm not always the funny one. Driving is a pleasure down highway 50 to Folsom Lake, not the nightmare of the 405.
After 11 years, I'm ready to feel my breath again. I'm ready to sleep and ready to wake up. In my ideal world, I'm back home.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Friday, February 4, 2011
August 8 at Purple Onion!
We just finalized the date for my show at the Purple Onion in San Francisco!
August 8 at 8:30 PM.
Yippee!
More on the Purple Onion:
The Purple Onion has been an icon in the history of San Francisco for over fifty years. In the 1950′s and 1960′s, this cellar nightclub was vital to the legendary stand-up scene in North Beach. Such legends as Phyllis Diller and the Smothers Brothers got their start here, and comedy luminaries like Woody Allen, Richard Pryor, and Lenny Bruce performed here as well.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
The Caged Bird
I thought I wanted to type a blog but I really just want to listen. So I am going to go read. Though I avoided it for years, I am finally reading I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou and as much as I know my friends and coworkers will hate this, I absolutely love this book. It is so my kind of Precious/The Color Purple/Native Son type of read. The sentences are more beautiful than the gardens at The Getty Museum, and on every page I'm reminded how much more spiritual we are as children. I hope if you haven't read it that one day you will. I want to have a book clubbing about it.
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- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Show Friday
I'm reading an all new story about 6th grade "SEAN GETS PUT ON THE AGENDA" this Friday at 7:30 Inside MimodaStudio at Paper or Plastik Cafe
5772 W. Pico Blvd. Los Angeles 90010 on Pico east of Fairfax at Ogden (street parking).
The show is called Word Salad and it's $5. Produced by Ms. Lora Cain.
It's the first chunk from my new show, Root Canal!
5772 W. Pico Blvd. Los Angeles 90010 on Pico east of Fairfax at Ogden (street parking).
The show is called Word Salad and it's $5. Produced by Ms. Lora Cain.
It's the first chunk from my new show, Root Canal!
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
My New Show
So I'm writing a new show right now that is currently titled "Root Canal" that I will be performing in August. Some really talented people are helping me put it together by offering notes, jokes, direction and production. It's something very different for me but I've never had so much fun writing and collaborating. We have secured three show dates in Sacramento, San Francisco and LA.
I think the most fun part of the process has been reuniting with my San Francisco comedy friends and Los Angeles TV friends to make it really, really funny and sleek all at the same time. It feels like a really good excuse to catch up and relive some of the awesome failures of my life and make fun of them, and I'm really, really excited to show it to you this summer.
:)
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I think the most fun part of the process has been reuniting with my San Francisco comedy friends and Los Angeles TV friends to make it really, really funny and sleek all at the same time. It feels like a really good excuse to catch up and relive some of the awesome failures of my life and make fun of them, and I'm really, really excited to show it to you this summer.
:)
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Sunday, January 30, 2011
The Pooches and the Pea
The dogs have really upgraded from the standard Motel 6 to the Venetian suite in my bedroom over the last three years. When Cricket was an only child he slept in his crate, and sometimes in the bed. When the storck brought Ralph, it was back to the crate, then eventually a dog pillow that they destroyed about six times.
Then I found a sturdy dog bed from Target that lays next to my bed. They liked it ok but hated cuddling against the wall. Or at least in my mind they hated it. Uncle Stuart gave them a mesh dog bed that I used to pad the wall horizontally between the sturdy dog bed and the green wall separating us from the 2nd floor laundry room. Then he got them a beautiful red and gray afghan from CB2 with a paw on it.
Then...I had their image embroidered on a throw, because I am a flamer.
Excuse me a moment, Ralph is drinking from the toilet.
I feel they have it all now. Unless I can find some sort of a canopy.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Then I found a sturdy dog bed from Target that lays next to my bed. They liked it ok but hated cuddling against the wall. Or at least in my mind they hated it. Uncle Stuart gave them a mesh dog bed that I used to pad the wall horizontally between the sturdy dog bed and the green wall separating us from the 2nd floor laundry room. Then he got them a beautiful red and gray afghan from CB2 with a paw on it.
Then...I had their image embroidered on a throw, because I am a flamer.
Excuse me a moment, Ralph is drinking from the toilet.
I feel they have it all now. Unless I can find some sort of a canopy.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Alan's Hot Spot
When I first moved to San Francisco, back in March of 2004, I remember unpacking one suitcase, putting my bed on the carpet and running to grab my keys and my laptop, headed for Starbucks. I was 25 and newly out. I had joined a gay social networking site called Connexion and I had received a message from Alan.
I went to Starbucks and signed up for a one year pass to the T-mobile hotspot. T-mobile provided Internet service for users in Starbucks, Kinkos, AT and T stores and airports--and for $30 a month it would be my one way ticket to read messages from Alan.
Alan was listed as 5' 4" and 150 pounds. One of his pics had him shirtless and he was built like Canadian WWF legend Dino Bravo. His interests included Skittles and softball. He had Brown hair and he was 29 and looked like my aunt Judy. He was sexy but he was also nice. He LOL'ed an awful lot in our messages.
While I didn't actually go on a date with Alan until September of that year, I went to Starbucks daily to look for a message from him. I bought a lot of coffee and hot chocolate and biscottis because I felt guilty just using their hotspot. I used to go to the Wells Fargo next to the Starbucks and use their direct deposit advance to get $20 or $40 bucks to make sure I could afford these visits over that summer. Occasionally, I'd meet other guys on the site and meet up with them that night at the Midnight Sun or Moby Dicks. I accumulated $3000 in credit card debt from the time I landed in San Francisco until the moment I met Alan six months later.
We went on two dates.
And wi-fi at Starbucks is now free. I'm typing this from one now.
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I went to Starbucks and signed up for a one year pass to the T-mobile hotspot. T-mobile provided Internet service for users in Starbucks, Kinkos, AT and T stores and airports--and for $30 a month it would be my one way ticket to read messages from Alan.
Alan was listed as 5' 4" and 150 pounds. One of his pics had him shirtless and he was built like Canadian WWF legend Dino Bravo. His interests included Skittles and softball. He had Brown hair and he was 29 and looked like my aunt Judy. He was sexy but he was also nice. He LOL'ed an awful lot in our messages.
While I didn't actually go on a date with Alan until September of that year, I went to Starbucks daily to look for a message from him. I bought a lot of coffee and hot chocolate and biscottis because I felt guilty just using their hotspot. I used to go to the Wells Fargo next to the Starbucks and use their direct deposit advance to get $20 or $40 bucks to make sure I could afford these visits over that summer. Occasionally, I'd meet other guys on the site and meet up with them that night at the Midnight Sun or Moby Dicks. I accumulated $3000 in credit card debt from the time I landed in San Francisco until the moment I met Alan six months later.
We went on two dates.
And wi-fi at Starbucks is now free. I'm typing this from one now.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Location:Starbucks West Hollywood
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Who needs a root canal?
Big NewsComing Soon
August 5 Sacramento
August 8 San Francisco
August 10 Los Angeles
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Everything will be fine
I remember working at CPK when I was in my mid-twenties, hawking pizza, pasta and more all over Los Angeles, feeling like just another waiter in LA without much of a future. I was a standup comic, and while respected among my peers, I was also niche because I was gay. So I never liked telling anyone what I did for a living because I didn't excel in my field. I mean, I was a really good waiter--but it was a glorified Chuck E Cheese in Studio City. It wasn't like I was a captain at Boa or a manager at The Ivy. I was just another guy in a fruity tie by day and a tattered beanie with a notebook by night.
I quit when I had a revelation about fitness, that I was better at motivating fat people than Jackie Warner. I retired from bringing dressing on the side and got certified, after failing my test twice, as a personal trainer. I was no Tracy Anderson. My clients were all friends, and I did not have a beautiful body either. By then I was writing a lot more, and hoped to get a book deal with my weight loss story. But I had no experience as a professional writer. Again, I lived in fear of introducing myself and my careers and aspirations. I feared being judged as not the very best in my trades. And in doing so, in not owning my journey, I didn't get better. I got bitter and put on some weight.
But before all of these jobs I worked in broadcasting. I was on the fast track beginning at 17 to run show business as an intern in country radio, then at a record label and several tv shows. I left to go lose all that weight, and when I got back in tv at 30 as an assistant--again I cowered behind my age versus title rank in the equation of success. It was rough...rough...rough. For about a year I hid behind my A.D.D.-ish 20's, and how they were shaping my early 30's.
Sometimes it sucks not being really cool and rich and respected. But at least in this picture, I'm holding the leash.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
I quit when I had a revelation about fitness, that I was better at motivating fat people than Jackie Warner. I retired from bringing dressing on the side and got certified, after failing my test twice, as a personal trainer. I was no Tracy Anderson. My clients were all friends, and I did not have a beautiful body either. By then I was writing a lot more, and hoped to get a book deal with my weight loss story. But I had no experience as a professional writer. Again, I lived in fear of introducing myself and my careers and aspirations. I feared being judged as not the very best in my trades. And in doing so, in not owning my journey, I didn't get better. I got bitter and put on some weight.
But before all of these jobs I worked in broadcasting. I was on the fast track beginning at 17 to run show business as an intern in country radio, then at a record label and several tv shows. I left to go lose all that weight, and when I got back in tv at 30 as an assistant--again I cowered behind my age versus title rank in the equation of success. It was rough...rough...rough. For about a year I hid behind my A.D.D.-ish 20's, and how they were shaping my early 30's.
Sometimes it sucks not being really cool and rich and respected. But at least in this picture, I'm holding the leash.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Monday, January 3, 2011
Farewell Spin
I'm sad today. It was my last spin class. Work has gotten too busy to continue leaving so early on Mondays. But I have treasured our 30 weeks together--and I will be back someday, I promise. Thanks for being there. XOXO, Sean
Farewell Spin:
"My Life Would Suck Without You" Kelly Clarkson
"Ego" Beyonce
"Firework" Katy Perry
"Aint No Mountain High Enough" Diana Ross and the Supremes
"River Deep, Mountain High" Glee Cast
"Single" New Kids on the Block
"Raise Your Glass" Pi!nk
"Reason" Hoobastank
"Club Can't Handle Me" Flo Rida
"Fuck You" Cee Lo Green
"I Made It" Kevin Rudolph and Ca$h Money Heroes
"Thanks For the Memories" Fall Out Boy
Farewell Spin:
"My Life Would Suck Without You" Kelly Clarkson
"Ego" Beyonce
"Firework" Katy Perry
"Aint No Mountain High Enough" Diana Ross and the Supremes
"River Deep, Mountain High" Glee Cast
"Single" New Kids on the Block
"Raise Your Glass" Pi!nk
"Reason" Hoobastank
"Club Can't Handle Me" Flo Rida
"Fuck You" Cee Lo Green
"I Made It" Kevin Rudolph and Ca$h Money Heroes
"Thanks For the Memories" Fall Out Boy
Friday, December 31, 2010
How do I look?
It's New Year's Eve in the desert! How's this for the festivities?
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Thursday, December 16, 2010
It's A Brand New Day
I'll let my auto signature explain it all.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Shattered screens
This picture, captured today upon the clumsy slip of my hand while walking the dogs and giving out my number to the first hot guy to ask for it in a very long time, was really quite symbolic of the last two months.
In early October, I got some really sad family news that really threw me for a loop. I worked on two pilots at once and had a great time, but was barely home, and my dogs didn't like that and decided to eat a few expensive things in protest. They are like Tea Party leaders: retarded and destructive. Then I had a urinary tract infection and thought it was Scurvy or worse, because that's how my mind works. A woman at work put her finger in my face and shook it at me. That was fun. NOT. And last week while at the Grove, a very unflattering picture was taken of me that was on a gossip web site and I almost had to move to Mars. Oh, and Perez Hilton called my female friend a cunt when we were at Tigerheat.
I'm whining, let's make no mistake about it. And for the most part, my problems are VERY White Girl, very LA, very gay, very not Haiti. And at the risk of being about 10 days late for a Thanksgiving post, I want to take a second to say thank-you because even with all of the shattered iPhones, I am still the luckiest person alive.
When my family issue occured, I was super-duper thankful, because I had the tools to deal with the issue, I had a boss who let me leave work to go right to therapy, and it also brought me closer to a family member who I love desperately and never really got a chance to know.
During the pilot building process I got to see exactly what it is I want to do in the TV business, and I even contributed to a few things that made it into the final cut which totally rules. I also got to join a new credit union in the process since it was on a studio lot I'd never worked on before.
The doggy destruction derby reminded me to walk them longer which was my only form of exercise for six weeks. Also, they slept in the bed with me when I got home at like 2AM from work and kept me warm.
The UTI was a huge blessing in a weird way because it forced me to get a check up from my cool new Doctor, and also--it was covered under my new sweetass medical insurance plan which I didn't know I had until the bill came! I havent had real insurance in two years. So Sexy. And my pee stopped hurting in like 6 hours. I also got a helpful tip about how to avoid them that has NOTHING to do with not being slutty. And it works (pee after you, uh, ya know)! (I had no idea. Usually I just go to sleep).
The screamer reminded me that it's nothing personal. Whenever people yell at you, you're usually interchangeable with anyone else who could have been there that day.
But do you want to know what I am MOST thankful for besides the lessons I learned? That throughout my dramatic days over the last two months, I never felt alone for a single second. And this is the value of having lifelong friends. You give and you take, but you always stay in touch. In our darkest hours it is the loving and gentle "It's ok" from a high school friend, a college roommate, a downtown diva, an NBC page tourmate, or the boss who hired you back 10 years after you walked away from it all to go lose 100 pounds that make you feel not so alone.
We can never lose touch with the people who knew us before we had pubes or debt. They love us at our worst, because they know us at our best and believe it's possible to become even greater. They're the only people who ask about our moms and dads and really care, because they've met them. They are the ones who want to know who we're dating, because they want to make sure we're happy and getting boned to high heaven, since they remember how cranky we were when we were fat and celibate. If you owe a call, do it now. Do it for no reason. You never know when having them back in your life will bring you back to peace.
So on this iPhone Memorial day, having packed up 60 days of Life's inconvienent anguish into 16 gigabytes of broken glass, I feel warmer because I can call my loved ones and bitch...on my brand new Purple-cased iPhone 4.
Friday, November 19, 2010
I like being the first one
After Macy's, I like to be the first one with my Christmas Tree(s) up. I forgot that I bought a bonch of $2.99 CB2 ornaments last year after Christmas. This one is my favorite ornament. And this is my favorite Christmas so far, for sure. It's the first one where I've done what I want. That's what Christmas is all about: you know, valet parking in Palm Springs.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
New Car
So what do we think? I've been looking for about two months, and I think I've settled on a winner.
This is the Nissan Rogue. She's a 2011 with front Wheel Drive and all the Sirius, GPS, JBL, blue light bells and whistles you can imagine. I've been a Nissan fella for about 11 years and I just feel comfortable in their Japanese metals. Call me anti-American if you must, but I'll make up for it by getting an SUV. Well, it's a mini-SUV. Sedans scare me. And I'm a bitch. I don't want to be at the same level as the rest of you--and neither do my dogs. What do you think? Probably will buy sometime between Thanksgiving and New Years.
Monday, November 8, 2010
Yee Haw!
Welcome to Reba SPIN! Cycling class inspired by the ultimate lady, REBA McENTIRE as we celebrate her new album release!
Class
"Turn On The Radio" Reba
The newest single from Reba's new CD released tomorrow!
"Behind These Hazel Eyes" Kelly Clarkson
Reba's touring partner from 2008.
"If I Were a Boy" Beyonce
A cover of this song appears on Reba's new album, available tomorrow!
"Rock Your Body" Justin Timberlake
Reba recorded "The Only Promise That Remains" with JT in 2007.
"It's Not Over" Daughtry
Reba recently posted a picture of her with that sexy piece, Chris Daughtry on her Twitter.
"If U Seek Amy" Britney Spears
Britney sang Reba's songs as a child and cites her as an influence.
"Chain of Fools" Aretha Franklin
The first time Reba saw one of her music videos on TV, it was on HBO and it was after one of Aretha's videos aired.
"Don't Let Me Get Me" P!nk
Reba has been a fan of P!nk's, and praised her recent acrobatic tour.
"The Heart of Rock and Roll" Huey Lewis and the News
Huey Lewis starred as Reba's husband in the video for "Is There Life Out There".
"Whip My Hair" Willow
Reba has always been famous for her bold, red hair.
"Is There Lfe Out There" Reba (live)
It's my favorite of all time.
Cooldown:
"The Weekend" Steve Wariner
Class
"Turn On The Radio" Reba
The newest single from Reba's new CD released tomorrow!
"Behind These Hazel Eyes" Kelly Clarkson
Reba's touring partner from 2008.
"If I Were a Boy" Beyonce
A cover of this song appears on Reba's new album, available tomorrow!
"Rock Your Body" Justin Timberlake
Reba recorded "The Only Promise That Remains" with JT in 2007.
"It's Not Over" Daughtry
Reba recently posted a picture of her with that sexy piece, Chris Daughtry on her Twitter.
"If U Seek Amy" Britney Spears
Britney sang Reba's songs as a child and cites her as an influence.
"Chain of Fools" Aretha Franklin
The first time Reba saw one of her music videos on TV, it was on HBO and it was after one of Aretha's videos aired.
"Don't Let Me Get Me" P!nk
Reba has been a fan of P!nk's, and praised her recent acrobatic tour.
"The Heart of Rock and Roll" Huey Lewis and the News
Huey Lewis starred as Reba's husband in the video for "Is There Life Out There".
"Whip My Hair" Willow
Reba has always been famous for her bold, red hair.
"Is There Lfe Out There" Reba (live)
It's my favorite of all time.
Cooldown:
"The Weekend" Steve Wariner
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Reba Spin
See you at 5:30PM Monday, for Reba Spin. It's the artists and songs that have inspired and been influenced by Reba McEntire for 45 minutes of sweaty cycling. And hear some new songs from her album, released Tuesday Nov 9--like this one
Monday, November 1, 2010
Election Spin!
One of my favorite moments as an American is visiting the polls on election day in 2008. So many gay people were there to vote, in long lines to oppose prop 8 and to support Barack Obama. It was an amazing moment of brotherhood among progressive people. I'll never forget it, or the IHOPing afterward. To honor election day, spin class tonight is election themed. It's music about the issues, or voting, or choosing, about the future or the past--and we finish with a song from the world's most successful election winner ever. Thanks for visiting and for bringing friends!
"Burn Into The Ground" Nickelback
"Big Yellow Taxi" Counting Crows featuring Michelle Branch
"Hung Up" Madonna
"Fight For Your Right (To Party) Beastie Boys
"Check On It" Beyonce ft. Slim Thug
"War" Edwin Starr
"We're Not Gonna Take It" Twisted Sister
"Where Is The Love" The Black Eyed Peas
"We Didn't Start the Fire" Billy Joel
"Hot Tottie" Usher featuring Jay Z
"Don't Stop" Fleetwood Mac
"Since You've Been Gone" Kelly Clarkson
(I voted so that I'd get a sticker to cover a zit. Now people won't stare.)
"Burn Into The Ground" Nickelback
"Big Yellow Taxi" Counting Crows featuring Michelle Branch
"Hung Up" Madonna
"Fight For Your Right (To Party) Beastie Boys
"Check On It" Beyonce ft. Slim Thug
"War" Edwin Starr
"We're Not Gonna Take It" Twisted Sister
"Where Is The Love" The Black Eyed Peas
"We Didn't Start the Fire" Billy Joel
"Hot Tottie" Usher featuring Jay Z
"Don't Stop" Fleetwood Mac
"Since You've Been Gone" Kelly Clarkson
(I voted so that I'd get a sticker to cover a zit. Now people won't stare.)
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Look for me
The Iron Sheik, former WWE Champion, and the man whom Hulk Hogan won his first title from has taken over my body for one night only. You've heard Iron Sheik on Howard Stern's show, but have you ever seen him on Santa Monica Boulevard?
HALLOWEEN!
Howard Stern Show/WWE Fans BEWARE: The IRON SHEIK has invaded Sean Hetherington's body...with Spirit gum and anti-american sentiments...photos to come!
Not Into Me
It was a sad, sad, sad day in September of this year.
I met a guy at a gaybar, the same one where my only long-term relationship also had begun. We made eyes at each other from across the room, you know the drill. He was good-looking and shy. He was with some friends. He was exactly my type. Dark skin, kind of hairy...seemingly nerdy. I had seen him on all the online dating sites, too and kind of admired him from afar. He had a weird name that I didn't hear correctly. I was popular that night. Boys were sitting on my lap and shit. The club could not handle me right now, as they say.
As he walked by to go the bathroom I tapped him on the shoulder. He looked horrified but agreed to talk to me. We exchanged pleasantries, well, I did at least. He was shy--which I loved. I'm sick of dating talkers. We discovered we both have similar jobs and were about the same age. I instantly kind of fell in love, in that gay infatuation way.
The texting commenced.
We went on a date. I got us a fancy reservation at a bitchy place downtown. We had fun. For the first time in many years I WAS NERVOUS. I never get nervous. We had drinks afterward. We had sex, too. I know I should have waited but he was so hot. I couldn't hold out. I'd waited since we met a week before! That's kind of old fashioned right?
I must have gotten un-nervous, cause I left a mark on his neck. And the next day I woke up and felt sore throaty. I went to the doctor and had strep. I told my new boyfriend this. I gave it to him, and a hicky. Now I'm like, White Trash City. Kiss of the Spiderwoman.
Still, I waited for his text, his call, asking me out again...and it tapered off.
And then it hit me, for the first time in...possibly my life--or at least since I'd been fat and wanted straight guys: a guy I was into was not into me back. It may have been the strep or the teethmarks or the fact that I mispronounced his very sexy name. Maybe it was my body or my voice or the conversation, but whatever it was--HE. WAS. NOT. INTO. ME.
RED ALERT.
I panicked. I told a friend how crazy this feeling was, to be not 300 pounds and have a guy who enjoys buttsex not want to continue to do it with me. She said that maybe he was busy with work or was already dating someone. I breathed and allowed this to be the case, until my other friend pointed out that those are excuses WHEN SOMEONE IS NOT INTO YOU.
I'll diet. I'll stop talking about anything heavy like religion or politics. I'll not use my teeth on throats. I'll cancel a date if I feel a headache. I'll not dominate the conversation. I'll try to top for once. I'll play metal. No more Reba. I'll get a better car. I'll stop wearing purple. I'll Twitter more, Facebook less. These were my thoughts for a couple of weeks. It handicapped me. I stalked. I squinted. I was Amy Fisher.
My charm and my eyes had always been enough to get anything Iever wanted in the penis department, and I wanted the guy with the weird name and the sensible SUV.
But then I talked about it in therapy (I should quit admitting I go to therapy on the first date) and the boss said the words I needed to hear:
"You're worried because someone wasn't into you, but do you know what's really happening?"
"Yes, I'm losing my mind."
"No," he smiled. "For the first time in more than a year, you're into someone else. You're finally healing from a broken heart."
And he was right. This is the first day my heart was able to feel again, I had realized sitting there. Sitting across the table from someone who held my attention and made me laugh, who's opinions I found interesting and who was also extremely good looking was finally recognizable. I wasn't making excuses for no second date. I was not Day Dreaming about Wrestlemania 27(I'll find a more masculine sport to watch). I was ready to trust and to gamble on dating and relationships. And the truth is, I don't want the first guy I feel something for to be my next life-long partner. He'd run screaming after the third date I'm sure, because I'm still learning how to juggle it all. But it's good to know I was actually trying again to find someone special to spend an occasional Friday night with.
And then that sad day in September wasn't so sad. Pitiful maybe, but not sad.
I met a guy at a gaybar, the same one where my only long-term relationship also had begun. We made eyes at each other from across the room, you know the drill. He was good-looking and shy. He was with some friends. He was exactly my type. Dark skin, kind of hairy...seemingly nerdy. I had seen him on all the online dating sites, too and kind of admired him from afar. He had a weird name that I didn't hear correctly. I was popular that night. Boys were sitting on my lap and shit. The club could not handle me right now, as they say.
As he walked by to go the bathroom I tapped him on the shoulder. He looked horrified but agreed to talk to me. We exchanged pleasantries, well, I did at least. He was shy--which I loved. I'm sick of dating talkers. We discovered we both have similar jobs and were about the same age. I instantly kind of fell in love, in that gay infatuation way.
The texting commenced.
We went on a date. I got us a fancy reservation at a bitchy place downtown. We had fun. For the first time in many years I WAS NERVOUS. I never get nervous. We had drinks afterward. We had sex, too. I know I should have waited but he was so hot. I couldn't hold out. I'd waited since we met a week before! That's kind of old fashioned right?
I must have gotten un-nervous, cause I left a mark on his neck. And the next day I woke up and felt sore throaty. I went to the doctor and had strep. I told my new boyfriend this. I gave it to him, and a hicky. Now I'm like, White Trash City. Kiss of the Spiderwoman.
Still, I waited for his text, his call, asking me out again...and it tapered off.
And then it hit me, for the first time in...possibly my life--or at least since I'd been fat and wanted straight guys: a guy I was into was not into me back. It may have been the strep or the teethmarks or the fact that I mispronounced his very sexy name. Maybe it was my body or my voice or the conversation, but whatever it was--HE. WAS. NOT. INTO. ME.
RED ALERT.
I panicked. I told a friend how crazy this feeling was, to be not 300 pounds and have a guy who enjoys buttsex not want to continue to do it with me. She said that maybe he was busy with work or was already dating someone. I breathed and allowed this to be the case, until my other friend pointed out that those are excuses WHEN SOMEONE IS NOT INTO YOU.
I'll diet. I'll stop talking about anything heavy like religion or politics. I'll not use my teeth on throats. I'll cancel a date if I feel a headache. I'll not dominate the conversation. I'll try to top for once. I'll play metal. No more Reba. I'll get a better car. I'll stop wearing purple. I'll Twitter more, Facebook less. These were my thoughts for a couple of weeks. It handicapped me. I stalked. I squinted. I was Amy Fisher.
My charm and my eyes had always been enough to get anything Iever wanted in the penis department, and I wanted the guy with the weird name and the sensible SUV.
But then I talked about it in therapy (I should quit admitting I go to therapy on the first date) and the boss said the words I needed to hear:
"You're worried because someone wasn't into you, but do you know what's really happening?"
"Yes, I'm losing my mind."
"No," he smiled. "For the first time in more than a year, you're into someone else. You're finally healing from a broken heart."
And he was right. This is the first day my heart was able to feel again, I had realized sitting there. Sitting across the table from someone who held my attention and made me laugh, who's opinions I found interesting and who was also extremely good looking was finally recognizable. I wasn't making excuses for no second date. I was not Day Dreaming about Wrestlemania 27(I'll find a more masculine sport to watch). I was ready to trust and to gamble on dating and relationships. And the truth is, I don't want the first guy I feel something for to be my next life-long partner. He'd run screaming after the third date I'm sure, because I'm still learning how to juggle it all. But it's good to know I was actually trying again to find someone special to spend an occasional Friday night with.
And then that sad day in September wasn't so sad. Pitiful maybe, but not sad.
Saturday, October 30, 2010
Christmas My Way
I remember how grumpy I was the first time I spent Christmas away from my family. It was the best Christmas I ever had, and the worst one I'd ever known, all at the same time. I felt homeless, like a sinner. I felt like a Rent Boy roaming the streets. I was poor and getting fat. I was in love but unable to see and feel it, numb to the affection waiting for when the hurt would come as it had so many times before. I was being licked and peed on by my new dogs. I tried, really tried to let the Bette Midler Christmas album cheer me up, but nothing did.
What a waste of independence that 2008 Holiday season was. It's one of my deepest regrets, that the fake trees and Chinese food and new family I'd built wasn't enough to make me smile.
I'm not going home this year, and though it's bittersweet, it's not painful. I don't feel deprived of a family--which is funny because I'm single. I feel engulfed in love, like the ocean did in oil a few months ago. I'm going to go back to Palm Springs, my favorite place in the world. I'm bringing my not-so-new dogs with me. I'm going to buy us presents and wrap and then open them. I'm going to read and chill and have Chinese food like I did before. I'll probably lay in the hammock for a few hours and contemplate a bowel movement.
I'm a grown-ass man, and it's time to start defining the holidays for myself--not for the crazy that doesn't have a clue. It's such a sigh of relief. It's such an excitement in my stomach to see what the holidays have in store for me and my doggies. I wonder what the desert air smells like in December? Can you put ornaments on a cactus? Will I finally learn to play Blackjack at Agua Caliente?
For too long all of us have spent 11 months dreading what should be the happiest time of year, because it reminds us of the hardest time of our lives, our childhood. I don't accept that. I like being an adult. I want to be a 32 year old who smells like misteltoe, not fear and hoarding. Why can't we actually be the joy of the season that Macy's tries to manufacture?
What a waste of independence that 2008 Holiday season was. It's one of my deepest regrets, that the fake trees and Chinese food and new family I'd built wasn't enough to make me smile.
I'm not going home this year, and though it's bittersweet, it's not painful. I don't feel deprived of a family--which is funny because I'm single. I feel engulfed in love, like the ocean did in oil a few months ago. I'm going to go back to Palm Springs, my favorite place in the world. I'm bringing my not-so-new dogs with me. I'm going to buy us presents and wrap and then open them. I'm going to read and chill and have Chinese food like I did before. I'll probably lay in the hammock for a few hours and contemplate a bowel movement.
I'm a grown-ass man, and it's time to start defining the holidays for myself--not for the crazy that doesn't have a clue. It's such a sigh of relief. It's such an excitement in my stomach to see what the holidays have in store for me and my doggies. I wonder what the desert air smells like in December? Can you put ornaments on a cactus? Will I finally learn to play Blackjack at Agua Caliente?
For too long all of us have spent 11 months dreading what should be the happiest time of year, because it reminds us of the hardest time of our lives, our childhood. I don't accept that. I like being an adult. I want to be a 32 year old who smells like misteltoe, not fear and hoarding. Why can't we actually be the joy of the season that Macy's tries to manufacture?
Friday, October 29, 2010
Sunday, October 24, 2010
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