THE TOWNHOUSE

On September 17, 2000 (but a wee first month freshman in college)
I scribbled in the journal that I kept at the time,
"I could write 4 million words on last night. It wouldn't even come close, so I'll simply say- Go out. Do acid. Dance."

All current opinions aside regarding the hazards and downfalls of recreational drug use. I will only say that times have certainly changed. Because, as of this evening, January 31, 2006 (but a wee 24 year old in the middle of a room occupied primarily by senior citizens) my main sentiment is that,
"I could write 5 million words on tonight. It wouldn't even come close, so I'll simply say- Go out. Drink at a piano bar. Sing."

And in retrospect, the awareness will make itself clear, sooner or later, that this road only moves forward.
You can feel young, old or ancient dependent on your surroundings. Honestly, you can feel fit, fat or sexy- smart, dumb or retarded- interesting, pathetic or invisible dependent on your surroundings too.

But, be forever aware that this is our only chance.
Our only chance to make a fool of ourselves.
Our only chance to drink more than we should.
Our only chance to sing in front of a room filled with strangers.
Our only chance to come home, alone, as it should be. And feel the desire to write 5 million words on "tonight."

Because it's over
already
and really,
it's barely even just begun.

101 Damnations

i need to be better
to you
in the hopes
that we all
can be better to each other

should living be selfish?
not my place to say
but it would seem that
small town life
is where it's at
you're queer
i'm queer
we are family

no questions asked
support
constant
in the form of trips to bigger places
and nights at the one gay bar
dinners at the end of a long week
and evenings spent
together
just in front of the television

gathering
after gathering
a unit is formed
shared understandings
lead to shared experience
and enough of that
leads to a shared life

community does not exist in manhattan
not for me anyway
perhaps at some point
but not at 24

this concept seems to be alive
in sitcom land
via LA
via soundstages
that no one could believe look real
four straight men
who choose each other over women every episode
six single eccentrics
who always have a home to return to

my family is one place
my partner is somewhere else
my friends...
what friends i ask myself?
the friends who called this weekend
oh, them

i cannot control
the lives of the unlimited choices
constant distraction
does not make forgiveness easy
fuck up once
and game over
onto the next player
final result:
you lose

but take that small town circle
and plop them down up here
they would more than likely disintegrate too
there's just too much
too much of it all

how many friends have i known
in my five years here?
how many numbers have i entered into
and deleted
from my phone?
more importantly though,
how much of it was my fault
and how much of it wasn't?

one former co-worker
who i sat across from saturday night
over margaritas
in midtown
reminded the table that her new year's resolution
was to strip away the unnecessary
cleanse the system
be rid of the haunting past

she resolved to delete one # from her cell phone
every single day
until she had gotten down
to only the people who mattered

i can't say that i don't see why

needing the support of a loved one
in the middle of our ridiculous lives
is as natural as breathing and taking a shit
but holding out for the phone to ring
in this fucked up city
is a torture that can't be explained

so i won't forget to be glad
every single time that it does
even if I can't shake the feeling
every single time that it doesn't

HAPPY 100th BLOG!!!

IN HONOR OF MY 100th POSTING ON MY 100th DAY AS A BLOGGER, I THOUGHT THAT IT WOULD BE FUN TO DO A TOP 100 LIST OF INFORMATION AND FACTS DETAILING THE LIFE THAT I WRITE ABOUT EVERY DAY.
IT'S JUST A LITTLE SOMETHING FOR EVERYONE IN THE KNOW, OUT OF THE KNOW OR MAYBE JUST SLIGHTLY BESIDE THE KNOW.
SO, THIS IS ME.
ENJOY!

1. I am in love for the first real time of my life.

2. The "CGC" of my blog title refers to my initials.

3. The "182" is an abbreviation for my birthday 1 -18- 82.

4. I carry a giant tote with me everywhere I go but am embarrassed by it and want to start carrying a briefcase.

5. Its hard for me to pick a favorite color but if I had to, it would be green.

6. I wear blue clothing all of the time for no apparent reason.

7. My favorite foods are sushi, cheese pizza and chocolate chip cookies.

8. Peanut Butter Cup is my favorite Ben & Jerry's flavor.

9. I've seen over 200 theatrical performances in New York, mostly on Broadway.

10. I'm a 2004 Graduate of New York University's Tisch School of the Arts.

11. I have a pomeranian named Bradshaw. She is named after the character Carrie Bradshaw and she is awesome.

12. I used to think my eyes were brown. Now I know they're actually hazel.

13. I am an anal retentive, OCD, neat-freak. Example: All of the shampoo bottles HAVE to face forward.

14. But sometimes I like to make a mess.

15. I don't keep anything in my fridge except a Brita water filter and salad dressings.

16. Rosie O'Donnell is hands down, without a doubt, my #1 celebrity obsession. Sarah Jessica Parker is my #2.

17. I have been lucky enough to get in a picture with both of them.

18. It used to be boxers. Now it's briefs. But it was NEVER boxer briefs.

19. My parents are still married and are two amazing and amazingly interesting people.

20. I am the oldest of three and love having a brother and a sister as siblings.

21. When people first meet me they usually think I'm an only child.

22. Exercise has never been a part of my life.

23. I know that I want to have children someday. I also know that I don't want them for at least another 10 years or so.

24. Their names have already been picked out, but I'm not giving THAT away (somebody will steal 'em I'm sure!).

25. I grew up in Fayetteville, Arkansas where I lived for 18 years.

26. I've since lived in N.Y.C. for the past 5 years.

27. I only like coffee occasionally after dinner. I never like it in the mornings. I'm much more of an OJ or Jamba Juice kind of person when I wake up.

28. My ideal sleep schedule is between 2 am and 10 am.

29. I NEED eight hours of sleep.

30. I have zero tattoos only because I can't think of anything I'd still want on my body when I'm 70.

31. I had braces but never wore my retainer.

32. Acne covered my face until I was a senior in High School.

33. I'm not afraid of commitment, but AM slightly scared of it.

34. I am very, very critical. But mostly of myself.

35. I love blogging.

36. I take more pictures than nearly anyone I know.

37. I'm an incredibly slow reader because I figure that if I'm going to take the time to read a book then I really want to absorb it.

38. I sleep barefoot, even in Winter. Socks just don't feel right.

39. I think I have nice feet.

40. I wish my body could be hairless.

41. If I could choose one super power then it would probably be invisibility (I'm a perve) plus flying seems like it would get really cold way up there with all that wind blowing on you.

42. I've had the same cell phone number and email address for my entire life.

43. If I had all the money in the world then all I'd want is a nice home and plenty of time to travel.

44. I'm dying to spend a month in Italy.

45. Some days when I don't leave the house I feel either slightly agoraphobic or highly lazy.

46. I prefer one on one time to big group get-togethers.

47. New Zealand Sauvignon Blancs are my wine of choice.

48. Ketel One is my vodka (No hangovers and mm-mm-mmm delicious!).

49. I worked as a host and waiter for a year and a half and feel that everyone should be forced to do the same at some point in their lives.

50. I want to travel everywhere but only want to live in New York.

51. I've been a pescatarian for over six years, meaning that I eat seafood but no red meat or chicken.

52. I'm nearly blind without glasses or contacts.

53. I was raised a Republican but am now whole-heartedly a Democrat.

54. I'd consider myself very, very spiritual but not particularly interested in organized religion.

55. Christmas is my favorite holiday.

56. Easter is probably my least favorite (I'm never home with the family anymore).

57. I used to wish that I was taller but now am happy with my height.

58. I have only dyed my hair once. It was in the eighth grade and I dyed it blonde over Summer vacation. When school started back I told everyone that it was natural highlights. Needless to say, no one believed me.

59. I am right handed.

60. I am right brained.

61. I'm slightly obsessed with capturing memories or events. Hence the journaling, photography etc. etc.

62. I am afraid of death but mostly afraid of losing the ones I love.

63. Some people only crave sweet foods, others only salty. I crave both.

64. I watch too much television sometimes.

65. I always seem to wish I were an age other than the one that I actually am at the time.

66. I hate the local news (hearing about the fifteenth car crash of the day doesn't help me out at all).

67. But I feel like I should pay more attention to the world news.

68. Waking up is really hard for me.

69. I don't particularly love long strolls on the beach.

70. I do however enjoy going to the movies in sweatpants and a hoodie.

71. I don't go dancing as much as I used to and I miss that.

72. My skin is really sensitive and I HATE shaving.

73. My hair and fingernails grow quicker than I 'd like them to.

74. I pluck my eyebrows. But not to shape them, only to keep them clean.

75. I love to take naps.

76. I would die without the people I cared about in my life but I love my alone time too.

77. I must be really self-absorbed to be enjoying this exercise as much as I am.

78. I used to look forward to a cigarette and the nice walk home after going out to dinner. Now I just look forward to the nice walk home.

79. I once considered getting the cartilage of my left ear pierced but have never ended up piercing anything.

80. My childhood dream job was to be an animator for Disney.

81. I have a really shy bladder and in many situations can not use a urinal.

82. I hate to love tabloids but don't particularly love to hate them.

83. I enjoy the idea of libraries but never use them because when I read a book I want to keep it on my shelf forever.

84. I'm often really bad at remembering names.

85. Madonna is my favorite solo artist. R.E.M. is my favorite band.

86. I drink a lot of water.

87. I was president of my High School Thespians Society (i.e. Drama Club) and won four Best Actor Awards for the shows I was in.

88. So, needless to say, I sucked at sports.

89. If I had all the space in the world I would cover every flat surface with framed photographs.

90. I'm a big fan of house plants.

91. And house pets.

92. I've had a subscription to Entertainment Weekly magazine for the past 10 years.

93. I'm a huge pack rat and collect things like Happy Meal toys, matches from restaurants and Playbills from every show I've seen.

94. I've been to nearly every restaurant, bar or club that's been seen on "Sex and the City."

95. Autumn is my favorite season. Spring is a close second, but for different reasons. Summer I love too and, well, Winter's not so bad either.

96. I hate lying, liars and being lied to. Can't do it myself and can't stand when other people do it to me. Just tell the truth. In my opinion, it's the only option.

97. I'm a Mac person through and through.

98. I lived in Paris for four months.

99. I procrastinate.

100. I've only recently begun to worry about things like Life Insurance and whether or not to bring an umbrella.

All I Needed

How random and bizarrely wonderful this world of blogging is.

It can be hard to put yourself out there, day after day. No matter how strong the desire is that guides you.

After the disgruntled defeatism illustrated in yesterday's entry, it seems both ironic and incredible that today, via a phone call and email from my good friend Mark, I would be directed to this...

Scroll down to January 16th. You have to CLICK IT to believe it.

"Seeing Red"

Not feeling this tonight.
It has started to seem more than a little bit pointless to work so hard at something that is potentially read by absolutely nobody.
When I began writing here, I decided that this would be an exercise, a ritual, a progression and a tool. I set out to spend one full year publishing something on this site each and every day.
"A Year in the Blog," if you will.

Nobody said that it would be easy to do. Certainly nobody said that it would matter much either. Lord knows I'm not a celebrity. And I don't really write about them too often. But I'm here, for tonight anyway, trying to express whatever truth there is that I exist with from day to day, hoping that it resonates with someone besides myself.

Come October 22, 2006, one year from the day I began, who knows where I'll be? Still tied to this computer, as much a part of me as my skin or as my heart? Or rid of it for good, a free man for life?
Only the next 9 months will tell...

In the meantime, I'll be back here tomorrow.
Maybe not the same time, but certainly the same place.
It's just what I do for me.
As well as for all you millions of strangers out there, just waiting to hear what happens next.

Support Group 101

"Hello, my name is Chris and I'm addicted to blogs..."
"It's a common addiction in today's heated and exciting virtual world. Frankly the temptation was just too great."

[A Memo to Any Expectant Mothers or Individuals Suffering from Seizure/Stroke: No links to the mentioned sites will be provided as we no longer endorse the furthering of information or opinions via the World Wide Web]

"Well... this is so hard... Let's see, It started out with rosie.com. This particular ailment I'd been living with since childhood. And that, ahhhhhhhhhhhh, I'm sorry... That... soon developed into a DE-SI-RE to...begin......writing......GOD WHY!?......my own blog."

[Let the record show that the individual identifying himself simply as Chris has now begun to sob uncontrollably]

"O.K. this is getting easier now... So, what started with rosie.com, soon blossomed into my own site, cgc182.blogspot.com for anyone who's interested! NOT that you should be! And this site quickly evolved into a need to check up on the few friends of mine who also wrote their own blogs. Soon, however, the realization made itself clear that my friends and counterparts did not share my DE-SI-RE to write blog entries of their own each and every day. So I was forced, FORCED! AGAINST MY WILL! to look elsewhere."
"Sadly,I was pointed in the direction of a site called pinkisthenewblog and soon found myself checking its pages two and three times daily, soaking up all its wit and wisdom the way a wino soaks up...well, wine."
"Before long, pink led me to queerty.com which then led me to danrenzi.typepad.com who in turn led me to perezhilton.com whose own site then led me back to pink and so on and so forth."
"Sadly, in my particular case, blogs alone proved to be only a gateway drug to a much deeper, darker DE-SI-RE."
"My pack a day habit of blogging and so forth only gained me access into the destructive and time devouring world of myspace.com. Where I managed to waste away hours, LITERALLY HOURS, searching for so and so from High School, or such and such from Summer Camp. I became engrossed (key word being: gross) with searching for people I sometimes didn't even give a shit about. It was all just to satiate the inner voyeur inside of me. My habit got so ugly that at one point I actually began pushing loved ones away with thoughts like, Yes, we HAVE been best friends for seven years now. But she's FACEBOOK and I'm MYSPACE. It'll just never work..."
"Well, good people of Support Group 101, I'm here to tell you that tonight I'm kicking the habit! Now, I'm not saying that it'll be easy and I'm certainly not saying that it won't take time. But come heck or high water (and judging by today's environmental climate its much more likely to be high water) I WILL kick this habit some day! Hopefully even someday soon!"

[Let the record show that the crowd is now going wild with excitement! They are lifting Chris up into the air! They are chanting his name! They are making him King! But wait, he's stopping them. He's making them put him down. He's got something more to say! Shhh! Everyone listen to him!]

"Hey, while I have you all here...Anybody got a laptop handy?'

subway story

today
en route to W 54th st
audition
i sat
on crowded train

my new mecca
the subway
former hate/hate relationship
has evolved into an almost love/love one
best deal around
best people watching available
best place to compose or gather thoughts

but the n,r train
not my favorite of the bunch
been spoiled by the 6
i'm a 6-er kinda guy
today
dark
cramped
stinky
nowhere good to sit

mostly just trying to clench up my nostrils
as i thought to myself
where is that stench coming from?
this man beside me?
it has to be
like grandfather & sweat
this smell

it was official
i did not like this train

a rowdy groups of psuedo thugs barreled in
we are now officially packed
elbow to elbow
oblivious
is not something i'm used to being
always on guard
the way i was programmed
but the woman to my right
the one who had been inspecting her various
dean & deluca yogurts
since prince st
had bugged me to the point of checking out
mentally

just focus on the audition
focus on the audition
don't think of lady calorie check
or lord i think i shit my pants

"YO YO YO!"
i exaggerate,
but something like this rang through the crowd
it didn't take long for me to snap out of my trance
and realize that
the yo yo yo
was directed at me
"YO YO YO! Dude gotta present for ya!"
and my face clenched even tighter
as a piece of white paper was passed
through the train
and over my way

turning it around in my hands
i realized that the thick white sheet
contained a drawing of me
in ink

instantly embarassed
i looked around the crowd
to see from whom this came
a smiling black man
i'd noticed
but somehow managed to
not notice
was noticing me
grinned
and gave a quick wave

"if you like it please tip"
was written along the left hand side of the page
he looked back down to his clipboard & paper
and an awkward
i guess i need to tip him now, feeling
moaned through my head
aware of the oddity in the situation
and how everyone
everyone
was staring at me
smiling
waiting to see how i'd react

pulling a bill from inside my wallet
and still as embarrassed as ever
i asked the man next to me
to pass the money over
as i was too frozen
to move from where i sat

smiling back at me
once again
the artist gave a nod
and it was only after he had moved on
to start drawing the other passengers
that i was able to really look at what he'd given me

well, he sure captured my disdain for the smell
was the first thought
and
my eyebrows aren't quite THAT thick
was probably the second

a few stops ahead
as i readied myself to leave the train
the artist having already managed to ambush several others
with his talent
originality
and warmth
i stood
slightly in awe of him
and he said "thank you" to me as i passed
so after asking his name
"orin"
i said thank you back

overcome with an emotion i couldn't quite describe
aware of the gifts this man was giving people
the feeling of being noticed
the feeling of being the subject for a real, live portraitist
the feeling of being beautiful
if only for a stop or two
on the dark
cramped
stinky
nowhere good to sit
n,r train

good lord
i exhaled
LONG LIVE THE ARTIST
he will save us all

proud

part of something
more
than me

i am so happy
with what i would have never chosen

all was written
all revealed
here
in this place
on this night

too private

i named what has been named
a thousand times before

tacky
it felt
sitting there

too literal
the title of it

to say i'm happy
with truth and conviction
works only when not naming the source

otherwise its pandering
its simplifying
its saying that you can't feel this way
or saying that you can

this is not my desire
to dictate
to preach

i only know
that
my heart was shaped a certain way
and that is why i'm here

today

Monday Bloody Monday

Yesterday, while writing what would become my Sunday post, I thought about how much I wanted to use the title of "Monday Bloody Monday" during one of the upcoming weeks. It wasn't particularly witty but seemed just ironic enough to illustrate some fleeting feeling of inadequacy or disappointment. And, at any rate, felt like a title that would call out to be used when the time was right. Frankly, I was happy to have thought of it.
I wish now that I hadn't.
At work this afternoon Ashley and I read that an old friend of ours from the acting studio where we had all studied while attending NYU had been involved in a drunk driving accident claiming the life of a young woman.
Our former classmate, the one who had sung "The Sound of Music" duet of "Sixteen Going On Seventeen" with Ashley not so many years before, apparently hit the 25 year old Graduate Student with his car at around 1:30 am, killing her as she crossed Second Avenue alongside her sister, as the two ladies left a nearby movie theatre. He, for unknown reasons, decided to flee the scene and only later, after four hours had passed, chose to turn himself in at a police precinct in Brooklyn.
The story is awful. For everyone involved. A young, driven and charismatic actor who had appeared many times on various MTV programs. And a young woman, described as popular and adventurous, who has been taken from this world for absolutely no reason.
I won't wrap my mind around the concept that life is ever meaningless. But it certainly seems that at times there is no meaning to it.
Why would this happen to him and why would this happen to her? Two people with no common link except a destiny so horrifying it seems all at once to have been inevitable and also impossible, not possible, not possible.
Is alcohol the blame? Or is it foolishness? Or is it fate? How could something like this come to pass? How could God let something like this happen? To take one life and to destroy another?
The "Why's" of the lives that we lead can often seem endless. "Why didn't he call me?" "Why didn't that promotion come through?" "Why wasn't I born with a smaller nose or a larger bank account?"
The "Why" of something like this...

there is no why.
There is only howling hurt and anguish for everyone involved.
And there may never, ever be an answer to take that pain away.

tiny violin

unpredictable life
dependence is dangerous

high risk level,
needing

would steer clear
at all costs

text
and you're back

call
and you're crushed

try not to need
from anybody

in this city, anyway,
try

to be a person of the world
existing in your own universe

untouchable
you can't get to me

i won't allow myself
to need you

once fucked
twice shy

this life can be a million feelings
but most of them

unfortunately,
are awful

the view from the bottom

aint so bad either.

not good versus evil/ courage versus fear

i sat across from a little boy on the train this afternoon
he was maybe 7 or 8 and he sat beside his dad/ uncle/ guardian/ social worker
the adult was some sort of casual, only slightly paternal, father-ish figure
and i didn't pay him much mind
because
this boy just radiated charisma
his olive skin and near grey eyes shined bright beneath his
red hoodie, black and white camo jacket and oversized jeans
i think his voice was deeper than mine
with a raspy, almost hip-hop coolness that made him seem wise beyond his years
i did not know this kid
i won't pretend to understand his story or what troubles he's faced
i wouldn't know if his short life has been nothing more than a long string of gifts and successes
but he seemed
to this casual observer anyway
more comfortable in his skin than any person i'd seen
and i started to think
about my own body language
about my own voice
about my own choice of dress
and also about how that communicates the fears i live with daily
just how gay do i come across
just how uptight is my walk
why did i move my hands in that way
or say what i did so loudly in front of strangers
why am i afraid to wear what i want if its daylight
and why am i suddenly more comfortable in a suit & tie
why do i feel alive in my skin when surrounded by friends or lovers
but often feel so painfully
aware
when all alone
forget how we come across to others
that is not the point
how do we feel when we are with these others
how do we feel when we know we're being watched
i started to contemplate
why do so many of us try
to come across as more than ourselves
is it because we are not enough
why do so many of us try
to be what we know we'll never be
is it because we dream deeper than we live
and
why do so many of us try
to impress the countless throng of others
who will never ever be impressed
only because they'd never allow themselves to be
being the person you are
is the sincerest form of bravery
saying what's on your mind
is the most daring political action you can take
living the life that you could not change
no matter how much you wished it
boldly
bravely
loudly
passionately
is the most radically alive reaction you could ever make
and it seems, to me anyway, that
it
is
never
too
late
to
start.

daylight waiting

storm clouds move in
as winter's reality makes itself clear

bundled and facing down
we pass without awareness
of the nearness of our bodies

it's the fact that warmth has been our friend
for far too long
that makes the cold so hard to handle

it's the fact that life had once been easy
that makes the trials hard to bear

but it is 4:46 pm
right this very moment
and there is still blue in the sky

the days are growing longer once again
second by second
and day by day

"this too shall pass"
i say to winter

the world is just now waking up

...to be

I'm 24 years old today.

By chance, I suppose, I happened to look up at the digital clock in my living room just as it had changed to midnight.
The thought of taking a picture occured the very moment that I saw its glow and I hurriedly scrambled to grab my camera from the bedroom, so that I could snap a few shots before the numbers clicked from 12:00 to 12:01.
Just as I checked the display screen on the back of my Sony Cyber-shot I found that none of the photos I'd taken had developed clearly. Each image was more blurry than the next. The result of a risky couple of settings I had chosen in haste.
Not allowing discouragement to get the better of me, I quickly spun the settings around to "normal" (no flash) and like magic the next two photos came out clear as day.
It didn't take but an instant to realize, however, that time had gotten the better of me.
12:00 had turned to 12:01 quicker than I could have ever imagined.
The clock moved forward and a minute had already passed in my 24th year, long before I was prepared for it.

Anger mixed with sadness and a sharp panic immediately shot through me. "I can't take one lousy picture?!" "This is how I start my new year?!" "Alone in a too-small apartment that I can't even afford?!" "Headed nowhere and with nothing to show for myself?!" "This is great! This is just great!" "What a wonderful Birthday?!"
These feelings continued to fire off inside my head like an amateur firework show for a quick spell until a newer, deeper sensation began to wash over me.

As quickly as these thoughts had popped into my head I began to experience the awareness of, How wonderful life is. What a truly profound gift to be given second and third chances. The picture I'd worried so much about taking had turned out perfectly. 12:01 speaks volumes more than just regular old midnight. I only needed to make the mistakes in order to realize this more phenomenal truth.
Just then I knew for certain what I had known but been fighting all along. Things will never turn out exactly how we expect them to. Events will never occur as planned. The years will come and go before we've gotten to opportunity to accomplish all that we'd hoped and dreamed for. But appreciation can be found in any moment, even one as terrifyingly real as the start of yet another year.
Fear can melt away into acceptance, if you let it. And acceptance, more often than not, can bring enlightenment that we'd never even seen coming.
There is so much more that I can do, so much harder that I can work. But I was meant to be exactly where I am tonight. I was meant to know that I am standing at the beginning of something new.

I'm 24 years old today.

I've lived 24 years on this Earth.
Thank you God.

"my"time/ "my"space

I just began using myspace.com this afternoon despite the fact that I've had a non-active account on their site for over a year.
Not to worry, I'm not leaving cgc182.blogspot.com! I'll still be writing here every day. Nothing could keep me away from the blogosphere!

I'm just adding an up and running myspace profile to the list of things I had previously said I'd never do, alongside owning an ipod and gaining weight...

It's really nothing all that special, mostly the same shit I've got goin' on over here (with a whole lot less in my opinion). But I know everyone's on it, everybody raves about it, and I was beginning to feel more than a little left out.

Take a look at the link if you're curious and invite me to be one of your friends if you're actually a member (and I know you).

I'll be back to normal on this site tomorrow.
Once a good twelve or so hours have passed without my face staring at a computer.


And with that,
DEATH TO FRIENDSTER!!!
(uh, just kidding... I love you guys too!)

January 16, 2006

He had the dream
so that we could live the reality.

He lost his life
so that we could have ours.

He was the leader
but the torch has been passed.

The time is here
to promote tolerance. respect, understanding and love.

There are no more excuses.

We are given only one chance to do right by this world,
to be judged not by the color of our skin but by the content of our character.

This is that chance.
This is that moment.
This is that day.
This is that experience.
This is that lifetime.

This is all we are promised and the time is now.

Live the dream.
For life.

Weekend Wrap-Up cont.

MisShapes madness last night...


Having to head home alone because your trashed out of his brain friend has disappeared with your camera: Con

Having your miraculously no longer trashed out of his brain friend show up at your doorstep the next morning with your camera in hand as he heads to church: Pro!


Barca 18 Brunch today...


Feeling slightly uncomfortable at the thought of eating a meal in the restaurant where you used to work: Con

Feeling wonderfully surprised at the non-stop warmth of your former fellow employees and even more wonderfully stuffed after the flooding of complimentary desserts to finish off the meal: Pro!


The L Word tonight...



Having to wait until 10 PM to see your lovely, luscious lesbian ladies: Con

Being fortunate enough to see your lovely, luscious, lesbian ladies in the first place: Pro!


And the breezy, blustery, wintery weekend that was...


Having to gingerly step around enormous frozen ice pockets as you're pelted with the snow that ultimately disappears the second it touches the ground: Con

Getting to see a light, bright snowfall as you raise the blinds on yet another lazy Sunday morning: Pro!


Well Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls- It's looks like life can be viewed from any number of directions and you never know just where a weekend will take you. For now, I'm off to TV Land.
I've gotta date with ma' dykes.

Kisses!

THESE ARE THE NEW RULES

RULE #1: Just because you're thankful that its a Friday, DO NOT go to a TGI Fridays.

RULE #2: Just because you're having a good time, DO NOT start doing shots of SoCo and lime.

RULE #3: Just because you've gotten drunk, DO NOT initiate a water fight in the middle of the TGI Fridays that you shouldn't have been at in the first place.

RULE #4: Just because your co-workers recommended the TGI Fridays based solely on its cost-saving $3 Margarita and 1/2 price appetizer special, DO NOT listen to them. Each of you will walk away feeling disgusting 1. Because you just went to a TGI Fridays and 2. Because you all still somehow managed to spend $80 each on drinks alone AT A TGI FRIDAYS!

RULE #5: When even TGI Fridays decides to cut you and your co-workers off by letting you know that they won't be serving any more alcohol at your table, it is officially time to Stop Drinking. DO NOT then walk across 56th Street and enter the local P.J. Carney's Irish Tavern for a tenth night cap of Ketel One and tonic.

RULE #6: Just because you're hung over, feel like Tara Reid on any given Sunday and have barf breath worse than Nicole Richie the week after Thanksgiving, DO still manage to get up, shower and make it to your 12:00 Pilates session. You will feel GREAT afterwards. And by GREAT I mean almost human...

Shitfaced Co-worker Wisdom

"Go out, drink. Live the life you want to live."

"Life is great. Live it the best way you know how."

"You are too young to have suffered. You are too young."

"You'll be there one day. There's truth to that."

Pilates Day Two

I hope that physical fitness doesn't kill any ability within myself to be a creative, thoughtful person.
For the second day in a row I have no desire whatsoever to write about anything. A slump, you say? For now we'll just call it a vacation... And by the way, pilates is easy! Try it if you're a "lazy" like me. It's super low-energy. And while I suppose that its working out something, I've yet to feel the soreness. Or the burn.

In other news, who decided to release "Rent" on DVD less than three months after its theatrical debut?! I didn't think it did THAT poorly... Regardless, you too can own your very own copy of the Two Disc Special Edition available for purchase on February 21st! Lucky for us it comes complete with the fugliest cover design this side of "Steel Magnolias."

And in conclusion, while I applaud the talented casts of shows (usually airing on NBC) that are both capable and willing to do Special LIVE TV broadcasts. Read: "The West Wing" and, earlier this evening, "Will and Grace." PLEASE STOP MAKING THEM! I don't like seeing my favorite characters walk around in one small room for a half hour looking like they've been transported to a gay themed soap opera playing on television's Q Network channel 300!

It is NOT that cute!

away message

I just got back from pilates.
Having done Bikram Yoga for a short but dedicated period, pilates feels like teaching myself an entirely new way to breathe.
I enjoyed the experience tonight very much but am looking forward to learning the basics quickly so that I can begin to work in a group session.
Don't get me wrong, the private tutorials I've started using are wonderful. My instructor Jesse is the best! But if I'm going to pay someone nearly $80 to move my body around for under an hour I want just a little more attention paid to my dick.
Call me old fashioned.
At any rate, I'm very excited at beginning a new life in tune not just with my heart or head, but with my whole body as well.
Wish me luck!

timeshift

life changes suddenly
very suddenly at times
and what we took for granted yesterday
is no more

we are tested
our strength of character is challenged
the will for fight or flight arises
and we learn

life always has the potential for change
survival is a skill that should be practiced
like a tool
the will to survive needs sharpening

people come into our worlds
and sadly people leave
lives end at the exact same instant
that others begin

time is necessary
for some
yet for others its easy

i envy these people
a lot

but it is in these periods
of separation or confusion
of loneliness or loss
that we discover the very marrow
of our beings
the very heartbeat
that makes us who we are

we are lost, confused
and many other things
but even now i know

that we will be o.k.

Random Ramblings

The beginnings of a new year are hard. All that celebration, all that warmth and suddenly its back to your former, sterile, everyday existence. The brisk winter chill is suddenly just plain cold. And to make matters worse, my parents are currently on a Celebrity cruise line in the French Caribbean celebrating their 30th wedding anniversary. While I'm just back to exactly where I was a month ago...


Despite its importance in my own personal mass transit sanity, I can't decide how I feel about all of the ipod zombies roaming the streets of our fair city. While I certainly understand the need to tune the chaos out from time to time. I usually just use the ipod as a means to enhance the vibe of the street or train that I'm on. Most of these people, on the other hand, look like they're just half a step away from lobotomy-land...


It's really very difficult to eat healthily and inexpensively. I've been told over and over again that the only solution is to buy the food yourself and prepare it directly in your own home, and am diligently working on this method. However, I continue to try and find the happy medium when dining out as well. But, try as I might, the conflict always arises. Even when just picking up a quick lunch, the choices always seem to be either sushi and a Jamba Juice for $25 or Wendy's and a chocolate frosty for $5.75...


MF Doom aka Victor Vaughn ft. Apani B's track "Let Me Watch" off of the record "Vaudeville Villian" remains perhaps the most perfect love song of all time. It is all at once shocking, heartfelt, honest, sexual, raw and tragic. There may never be another one like it...


Anyone who is fortunate enough to have the Premium On Demand channels or anyone who has an extra couple of bucks to spare on DVDs MUST, MUST, MUST sprint out of your homes and rent the film "Kinsey." I was fortunate enough to finally see it earlier this evening via Cinemax On Demand and am here to tell you that it is one of the most entertainingly important films that you are likely to see for some time. "Kinsey" does its subject proud. It is nothing short of revolutionary...


The cost of Dry Cleaning five clothing articles in New York City's Nolita neighborhood: $22.50. The cost of six toiletry items including Kleenex brand tissues, Neutrogena facial moisturizer and generic brand lint rollers from a drug store in Midtown: $34.14. The cost of White Rose low-fat cottage cheese, a can of Goya black beans, a head of lettuce and two other food items at a grocery store on Mulberry Street: only $8.65. That feeling you get when you strut home, a days work behind you and four bags of grown-upness under your arms, the dry-cleaning over your shoulder and a smile on your face: priceless...


And finally, What the Fuck is Su Doku?

live, long, lust, lonely, luminous

Jenny Schecter, Jenny Schecter
let me count the ways
your beauty comes from deep inside
not real, but so in other ways

how do i speak all the shapes of i love you
how do i thank for the truth in your eyes

if only this type could be cursive
i'd make it
your life is more mine than the stars in the skies

"...just like this always."

It seems like whenever I tell myself that I'm not going to do something it always manages to happen, voluntarily, yet much against my will. I told myself that I wasn't going to use whatever it is that I'm doing here as a forum to constantly critique the movies, music or shows that I've just experienced. Not to take away from what many other bloggers choose to write about. I've felt lucky enough to read everything from hilarious insights into the new holiday family flick to near brilliant observations on a particular disc they've just heard. And I love reading these. I'd just usually much rather sit down and talk about a film or a recording than to try and give an in-depth analysis via-blog.

Needless to say, I'm always seeing or listening to something and so these recommendations or criticisms have come up, without a doubt, from time to time. I was okay with this. Sometimes our experiences in a theatre can seem more meaningful than the mundanity of our everyday lives. Which, it should be noted, is never the case. However, I always knew for certain that I was NOT going to join in the fray of bloggers who have endless amounts of wit and wisdom to spew forth on the controversial new award season film "Brokeback Mountain."

I saw this movie a week ago and exiting the theatre, felt quite lucky to have absolutely no desire whatsoever to write a thing about it. I had waited a good long while to see the film with my boyfriend Matt. We had experienced it together and I would certainly recommend it to any straight friends and family members. But, frankly, I wasn't blown away.

"It was boring," was my main sentiment. "They could've shaved a half hour off that thing easy," was another. "The sex stuff didn't even seem that controversial to me. There were more scenes of them fucking their wives than there was of anything involving the two of them of together," was a third. I found the cinematography to be gorgeous, the performances to be deeply felt and the story to be tragic and moving. All things I had expected coming in. But it just didn't seem like the immediate DVD purchase landmark kind of film that I was hoping for.

Only in the past seven days has the full effect of this picture taken ahold of me. There have been moments since my viewing that I've almost doubled over in pain from the remembrance of these characters' lives. Rereading the final pages of the short story I'd first read months ago, my gut wrenched with an aching hollow at the closeness I felt to these men. How easily this could have been any of us in just another time or place. And while I may have walked out of the Kips Bay theatre proclaiming the film a bore, in the days since I have been so haunted by its story that at times whole conversations have been killed due to my absorption. "What do you feel like having for lunch today, Chris?" ..."I feel so sad for Ennis. I feel so sad for him."

Many of you have certainly been fortunate enough to see "Brokeback Mountain" by this time. If not, run out to read Annie Proulx's short story immediately and then see the film as soon as you can. I wouldn't jump up and down on the top of a mountain proclaiming this film a masterpiece. It just didn't shake me in quite that bold a way. But what Ang Lee, and even more so Ms. Proulx, have created is a world so viscerally, numbingly real that you may find yourself revisiting it against your better judgement time and time again. The story of Jack Twist and Ennis Del Mar will break a part of your soul, of that I am certain. But with that same certainty I am here to tell you that you will never be the same again.

"evening ladies"

I am haunted by the Lady in the Water. Wait for her and you will be captivated as well.
In the meantime, Joni sings to me by lamplight. M.I.A. thumps to me by train. The "Extraordinary Machine" speaks volumes as I listen and dreams more vivid than ever come rapidly like rain.
But much more than the movies and the music, the anticipation or the art, my Lo writes of Alice and I knoddingly knod.

This life will be liveable after all.

alone and with

life really can be like the movies

not an hour ago,

under a statue of columbus and the moon

in the center of Astoria, Queens

i watched as my boyfriend climbed into a bus headed for LaGuardia

smiling i waited
staring up
as he, flustered,
made his way deeper and deeper inside

a lowering, a fade, a sadness, a truth
as he did not look back
when it drove away

a short while later
after missing the first train back to Manhattan
i stood shivering
on an outdoor subway platform
the triborough bridge glowed ahead of me
a burger king loomed behind

thousands of white lights headed forward
while thousands of red lights hurried away

beautiful and sad life passing
ugly and awful too

once on the next train
destined
many stops passed
a particularly downbeat playlist continued
as i thought of matt
and what i'd write about this evening

a song i've never much cared for
maybe one of twenty sung in french
began without my noticing it

i shook myself out of the
post departure
post playlist
post intercourse
trance

just in time to see how far into manhattan we'd gotten
having passed 14th street
on the n,r,q,w
whatever
a face to my left appeared

so similar
but not in a million years
from paris
jacques
the boyfriend of a friend
a frenchman
she'd met him while studying there
and fallen in love

i know this man
i've been to his chateau in normandy
smoked hookahs with him
he's taken me to the theatre at montmartre
taught me phrases en francais

he was kind to me
at my most lost ever
when many others weren't
when many others could have been

he never smelled too great
but was handsome
and hilarious
and honest
and him

what could he be doing here?
how much could his life have changed?
a new continent
a new language
a new livelihood
perhaps, a new everything

or maybe just on business
a few years ahead of us college kids
he looked older than he had before
as do we all
not quite the same sparkle eyes
not quite the same grin

he was alone
as was i

and it was with great nervousness
and hesitation
that i stood
a million questions running through my mind

and passing by the place where he sat,
exited the train
at the location
where i currently live

afraid

from twink to troll in no time flat

we just keep getting older

faces chiseled
suddenly fleshy

faces vibrant
suddenly gray

and faces innocent
are suddenly covered with spots

life moves forward
and we march with it
guns pointed at our backs
with no choice but to take one step
and then another
and then another
and then another

death to all vanity
is a personal wish of mine

graceful aging
the only way to live

but

why does it have to be so scary
to watch everyone i've ever known
as well as myself
move farther and farther away
from what we once were

move farther and farther away
from where we should have always stayed

"Amen"

much more than the color purple
every shade and hue imaginable
a kaleidoscope of life's stories
sweat and blood and hope and tears
more talent on those boards than a person in the front row could ever dream of
not at all perfect
this show
holes, unnecessary polish, parts you can't help but forget

as is life

these people feel these people
a moment
from the climax of the final song
the orchestra swells
the crowd is on its feet
going wild
and a private moment
between two strangers
lachanze
tears
and me
the lucky ticket holder
front row and center
clapping

-wink-

she and i
at the exact same instant
to each other
the thrill and chill of the theatre
a shiver to shake off every single feeling
as she takes me in
and i take in her
so close we could hold each other

she and i and us and them
we

theatre is alive
don't believe them if you hear otherwise
see this show
life is here and all over this town
anywhere where people gather to grow
to think
to move
to witness

the show not only must go on
it is going on
every single night

and
life is too short
to risk
missing it

Jacob Hopped the A Train

life exists
as subways roll
"the upper west side"
"the upper east"
"she's getting married"
and
"he looks well"
kosher chocolate &
smiles
a beautiful brisk day becomes
suddenly
a dreary cold one
life can take you on a million journeys
an unlimited fare is all you need
up
down
north
south
around town
and back again
for less than the cost of a soda
(in most restaurants anyway)

where will this train take them?
and you?
and me?
and us?

where will this year take them?
and you?
and me?
and us?

REMEMBER THIS

With the start of a New Year comes the onset of a whole set of exciting and fresh New Year's Resolutions.
Alongside the old stand-bys of:
Start exercising
Mind my "P's and Q's"
And work harder at achieving the career I actually went to college for
is a fresh mindset that I want to try and work on.
It might seem minor or pointless to many of you. And perhaps that's because it is minor and mildly pointless. But it will be significant in my own personal well-being and current state of mind.
I've figured out that:

Life cannot be viewed through the lens of a camera. The photographs we take of the worlds we live in don't dictate our existence. And as happy as a perfect picture can make us in this digital age, it doesn't make us, in any way, perfect as a result.

So, as I publish this beautiful photograph that I took while down in Arkansas, I also might try and slow down on the picture taking in the future. Not that I'll ever stop snapping, but I've just become a little too obsessed with every step of my life being perfectly captured in one way or another. If it's not on the blog then it's in the camera. And if there's no photographic proof of a night out on the town or a certain social gathering or, God Forbid, a holiday dinner then it starts to almost feel as though the event never even happened in the first place. Which is crazy.

A picture might be worth a thousand words. But its should never be worth a thousand forms of anxiety.