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Wednesday, December 2, 2009

“I am someone who is looking for love. Real love. Ridiculous, inconvenient, consuming, can’t live without each other love.”


I was walking back to the office today from an errand when this scene from “Sex in the City” popped in my head, I couldn't help but wonder when was the last time I made an entry in my blog? I know my last few had been pretty whiny and angry and I didn't even post the ones that I had written a few months ago because I knew they were just coming from such a desperate lonely place. I was pretty miserable for a while but thankfully I snapped out of it. A dear friend called me the other night scolding me about how I needed to see how far I've come and why I got sober and he was right. Fortunately I had had some action recently and that really put me in a much better mood.

Yes I’m still holding out for Mr. Right even if my cynical side is expecting him to be arriving D.O.A. but I have to look at the bright side and my boss actually helped me see this. Maybe none of the guys I've met are the right one but at least I’m putting myself out there and at least I’m getting dates. Am I looking in the right places? I don’t know but I’m not leaving and stone un-turned. If he’s out there I’m going to find him and when I do he’s going to be happy. I can’t say that I’m not happy where my life is right now. I have job I enjoy, friends that I care about and I’m surrounded by wonderful people. I’m going back to school in the spring and I've lost 40lbs I’m skinny again and am looking pretty damn good. I am just missing one accessory and that’s ok.

Everything happens when it’s supposed to happen and I have faith that it will. So maybe I have to adjust my rules a little bit to avoid the ‘HALT’. I may not have found exactly what I’m looking for yet but the more I try the more I am sure of what I don’t want and that’s better that not knowing what you want. Like my Aunt said or quoted “You may not even remember where or when you first had it, but once you get a taste of it you’ll keep searching for it and you can’t give up until you do” So here’s to the relentless pursuit of LOVE where ever it maybe and to the joy of the hunt bring it on boys!

Thursday, November 12, 2009

WIN AT LOVE? I CAN’T EVEN WIN AT SOLITAIRE!


So I think its time to crawl back under a rock with a three years supply of Ben & Jerry’s Chubby Hubby and eat it in 4 months. At least when I was still fat I could understand why getting a date was difficult but I’m 158lbs I have a 31.5 waist I’m hung like a donkey, I’m smart and I’m not ugly either and not just because my aunt says so.

I’ve made my profiles all of them poz.com adam4adam manhunt and every other site I’ve been on I’ve made it clear that I’m not looking for guys with boyfriends or guys that are just looking for sex so what do I get now? I get guys with boyfriends that are looking for friends and threesomes or still just guys with boyfriends that want to fuck. Or guys that chase after me for a week and then fall of the face of the earth. I’m done but I don’t know what direction to go in from this point. I feel like I’ve been holding on to this ideal in my mind that if I just keep holding out for the right guy for the right fit that sooner or later its gonna happen but it’s a lot fucking later. (This is not for comment from any of my recovery friends if you give me some bullshit life on life’s terms lines I will fucking slap you!) I’m seriously ready to just move pull another geographic and disappear and start over again.

I came home to NYC to get clean and you know what I’m clean the side effects of sobriety have been wonderful, I’m employed I’m busy I have a life etc etc etc but the only reason I got sober was because the big that was not working in my life was that I always felt alone. I sucked on a crystal pipe alone. I did everything alone only because I was a successful drug dealer people were always willing to hangout with me till I kicked them out. Now I’m sober almost 2 years and I just feel more alone. I don’t go to meetings for a week no one calls me to check on me, they tell other people to call me because I’m a reliable source of information on this or that but no one really misses me when I’m not around.

I’ve gained to much to give up on myself specifically to go back to using but I’m done with this life I’m living it’s not what I wanted and the beneficial side effects aren’t totally up to anything worth holding onto so I need to change something. So heads up people I’m going in a different direction and I’m not looking back.

Thursday, November 5, 2009

Lonely In Translation


When I'm alone and can't seem to meet anyone interested in me my fears and insecurities of being alone forever rise to the surface. When someone tells me exactly what I want to hear my fears of being lied to and manipulated show their face. When I meet someone I'm interested in all I can do is judge myself about why I'm not worthy of them. These are the issues I work on the most. In gay language I don’t think we have a word for dating. You're either boyfriends, fuck buddies or a quicky/hookup, we don't even do one night stands the thought of waking up next to someone, well that just too intimate. So how do you approach someone you're interested in them without sounding desperate and or lonely or worse clingy?

I had a date last night and I want to give myself a pat on the back for not doing my normal B.I.C.S. (Bull in China Shop) routine of here's all my issues take it or leave it crap. I'm not going to get into all the details of why this guy stands out but I will say I had a wonderful time. But here's what's so fucking crazy I left the date with the typical addict mentality questioning everything. I keep playing the tape back in my head I should have played footsies with him I should have touched him I shouldn't have told that joke or that story blah blah blah blah blah but even if I did scare him off or freak him out which I don't think I did, kudos to me for catching myself every time I almost went down my normal pit falls. I mean shit I'm not saying this guy is the one but I like him so I don't really need to drop my life story on the 1st date. If my ultimate goal is a healthy relationship then I need to start behaving in healthy ways right? So maybe he had a good time with me and maybe he wants to see me again maybe he'll text me today, maybe this strange uncomfortable feeling is how normal healthy people behave. I don't know yet we'll just have to see.

The highlight of my evening was when my neighbor got home and told me what happened on his date. Not that I enjoy his misery or drama, however I do make note of his wrong turns to help me avoid the same mistakes. He took his boyfriend (the guy he met 2 weeks ago) to a concert and apparently the guy didn't like the music so he just walked out on him. Now first off my co-worker tried to get me to take my date to a show tonight but I wasn't gonna force my appreciation of theatre onto my date when I barely know him or his taste. Second I wanted to be able to converse to get to know him so dinner was a much better plan. Third I'm not going to stand for being walked out on at a venue so why risk that embarrassment with someone I just met.

So I have no idea where I'm heading with this stuff but I have feeling that since this felt so different from my usual actions that this was actually a really good step in the right direction. Whichever way that is and even if I did do something my date didn't like at least I can say that I can tell I'm getting better at the things I'm working on so we’ll see…

Friday, October 16, 2009

Quantum Relationships





I don’t know maybe I’m just looking for someone just like me? But if that’s the case I know I’m never going to find it because I know how unique I am not that I’m trying to sound egotistical here I just mean I don’t operate on the same levels as most of the gay men I meet. I guess being raised in a female house hold where a woman’s reputation was important and the fact that my sexuality was accepted from the beginning spared me some of the issues I see most guys suffer from. However it also kept me from accepting the promiscuousness of our culture. Unfortunately my wild crazy drug days exposed me to certain types of fun that the vanilla goodie two shoes boys aren’t into. So the guys that are looking for the serious relationships are never my type either.

I’m not afraid of putting sex on the shelf, I’ve done it before and I am considering doing it again. I’m sick of my recovery friends telling me how great I am and great I look and how I’ll meet someone when it’s right because it’s been right for a long time now. I mean yeah I’ve only been sober for 19 and a half months but I’ve been the same person my whole life. And yes I gained some weight when I got clean but now that I’ve lost it I’m suddenly more appealing and less annoying but the insides and the thought processes were still the same. I don’t mean to knock recovery but the only x factor I can find is the fact that my recovery has completely blocked any possibility to get in a relationship. I have said this for a long time the longer I stay sober the lower my tolerance levels get. I’m not saying I’m turning my back on recovery at all, I can look at the big picture here and you know what yes my life is easily a thousand times better but I have to be doing something wrong somewhere I just don’t know what it is. Am I too picky? You know what maybe so but yes I want someone closer to my age, that is thin preferably taller then me with a full head of hair that actually wants to spend the night in the south Bronx.

I have made a vow to myself that next year I’m stepping back from all my service commitments. I have taken too much on my plate this year. I know they have helped me stay clean but it’s true I see it making me resentful of recovery and that’s a slippery slope. I think finding balance is far more complicated then quantum physics.

Monday, October 12, 2009

Dear Mister Right


I don’t know who you are or what you look like or even what you do in your spare time, but clearly it is not spent with me. Maybe you got lost on your way and are stuck on the subway. Well I hope you can find your way back home because I am turning my lights of and going to bed.

Maybe you were waiting for me while I was lost in my world of unhealthy behavior. Maybe you walked past me on the street and didn’t know it was me or maybe you lost my number and have been looking franticly through your pockets but either way I think its best that we just move on. Maybe you’re still mad at me for all the dumb decisions I made in my life or are waiting for me to learn some sort of lesson from all the wrong guys I’ve dated. This passive aggressive behavior is not becoming of you.

If you do decide to attempt to contact me I will appreciate the phone call but at this time I have nothing to say to you. I wish you well in your endeavors and hope you can do the same for me. Clearly you need more time and space then I’m willing to give so GO FUCK YOURSELF!!!

Sunday, October 11, 2009

You might recognize me from an episode of cops


No I was never actually in an episode of cops but wouldn't that be fucked up if I was? Not shocking but unlikely. I look back at my life and the people I associated with like my ecstasy dealer in Ft. Myers that was on an episode of cops where he got arrested on Virginia beach cause he was drunk and acting a fool. Then there was my apartment in Ft. Myers that an episode of cops was filmed when they busted some hookers and a crack dealing pimp. Ah the good old days. How did my life lead me to these sketchy places and shady people? Oh yeah cause I'm an addict and I was digging deep for my bottom.

It's kind of funny how my life has made such a 180. I eventually started working for a criminal justice program where I had to pretend to be an upright citizen while still getting high. I figured as long as I stayed on the paying retail end of the drug world I'd manage. Did someone say unmanageability? I really did I convinced myself if I didn't go back to my drug slinging ways everything would be just fine. FYI it didn't. I still used like a dealer with an unlimited supply and had to go much further lengths to maintain it. I can truly say this was my bottom. Thank god I didn't end up on an episode of cops!

Thursday, October 8, 2009

AND THEY'RE OFF!


In horse racing there is the Triple Crown race starting with the Kentucky derby, followed by the Preakness stakes in Baltimore and finished by the Belmont stakes here in NY. I feel like I have met a few studs that all have a great chance of winning a race for me but the odds of them being a Triple Crown or a third date are as good as Palin’s teenage parental daughter of being a nun. Maybe even a little higher then the challenged one's chances of going to MIT. But that could happen if Palin became president and forced all elite schools like MIT and Harvard to teach intelligent design she could probably get Kirk Cameron as her running mate but I digress.

I won't lie I did sort of give up for a while I resifted what I was focusing on in life and really spent some serious time concentrating on my recovery. Not that I didn't date or have sex I just didn't let it get in the way of focusing on meeting and other 12 step stuff first and foremost. Now that I feel like I have a decently stocked recovery tool box I've started some repairs in other areas of my life. Like loosing weight, I've lost over 20lbs and people are noticing and I like it. Also I'm not uncomfortable anymore by my attractiveness. Before being an addict that assumes to read peoples minds when I was thin in my past I just knew people were undressing me with there eyes and it made me feel sexualized and not good, bow I say fuck it if you like what you see tell me. I've even gone back to work fulltime in a new job and it’s been kicking my ass but in a good way I am actually tired and have a sense of accomplishment at the end of the day.

The last winner of the Triple Crown was 'affirmed' in '78 the year I was conceived. Hey if we've waited over 31 years for another triple crown I guess I can't complain about waiting over 30 years for finding my special someone.

Monday, September 28, 2009

Future Reference

I just figured I should let you all know that do some schedule changes I can no longer deliver an entry every Sunday night/Monday morning but I will still be trying my hardest to make an entry every week. Just so you know this addict has been dating alot and now even has sponsees and now a new job so my schedule is crazy but just imagine all the juicy stories I'll be telling you soon!

Thursday, September 24, 2009

HE HAD IT COMING



He had it coming all along! If you had been there, if you had seen it how could you tell me that I was wrong!

Oh how I hate the thought of my 9th step amends. Like most addicts I have tons of war stories and sketchy shady things I’ve done but one thing that still haunts me is the night I stabbed my boyfriend. I’m sure some of you are saying “I can’t imagine you hurting a fly” and others are thinking: mental note never sit near Tommy again that bitch is crazy!
I don’t think I need to explain to you guys that when this happened I was tweaked off my ass. When I lived in Tucson things really started to unravel but like a good addict I said I could handle it and it was all under control. And like anyone who’s completed the first step knows I am powerless over others and outside things. Well when I’m tweaked I like to think I’m god and have control over the world and being the one who always had the stash I thought I could control and manipulate those around me.

So where do I begin this event? I was preparing to do something I was not supposed to be doing as per federal laws and my boyfriend was trying to get my attention. Now mind you he usually got involved in a project and ignored me so I felt like getting even with him so I choose to concentrate on package I was preparing. In my boyfriends manifestation of paranoia he always accused me of fucking the guys I was doing business with and stuff so as my “client” kept calling me to find out when he could expect his delivery my boyfriend started to get restless and irritated and this fell into my plan perfectly. My goal was to teach him a lesson. I figured once he got to the breaking point I would say “HA see how it feels? This is what you do to me every time we get high! I just want to make love to you and you just want to go wash the car!” I doubt my tweaked brain could form these words anyway let alone a sentence. Some how I stopped doing what I was doing and started concentrating on the boyfriend but I think by this point it was too late he was done with me. We began to argue and push each other and shove. He threatened to call the cops and I flipped. How dare he call the cops on me with the cell phone that I pay for? On the phone that I just bought him, the phone that I still owe t-mobile about $350 dollars for. (Don’t get in on me on financial amends people I’ve already paid back about $5000 dollars and that was just in my first 16 months of struggling to get clean and failing) T-mobile will get there money soon enough. Now where was I? Oh yeah I’m livid that he’s threatening to call the cops and report me on “MY PHONE” that I got him as a gift. So I threaten to call T-mobile to get the line cut off. He goes to make a call and I call t-mobile when in my paranoia think he’s really calling the cops and we start trying to fight the phones out of each others arms.

Then he throws my water pipe on the floor getting glass and perfectly good tina water (I liked to save it for you know what guys, I’m not gonna explain that here my aunt reads this) everywhere. Now here’s another little aside, I have this little hobby of making structures from toothpicks that I learned in architecture class in HS. Because I was working on it earlier that night and because I was doing something with a box that I needed a box cutter I left it on the desk. When my ex and I started arguing and pushing one another I decided to put it in my pocket. I figured incase it got out of control I could scare him off. Well after the shoving match over the phones my brilliant tweaker thinking said pull out the box cutter and chases him out the apartment. I really had no intention of actually hurting him I did and still do love him. Well as I swung the box cutter in the air I must have really scared the living shit out him because he already had his keys in his hand and it so happens that he kept pepper spray on his chain and he sprayed me.

“Have you ever got cum in your eye Gabriel? It BURNS!” Well have you ever been pepper sprayed? It burns WAY MORE! Now between the mixture of smoking a ton of crystal and being up for a while and being in a very evil mood I snapped. I reacted and screamed and started slashing the air. He was already running for the door. There was one moment where I knew I could have swung and sliced him open but I pretended that I was completely blind and slashed the other way to give him a chance to get away from me and I was thinking he’s stop and say “sorry” and help me wash my eyes out. Well he kept going for the door and while running up behind him I closed the box cutter so that just the smallest amount of the blade was protruding so that if I did catch him he would just get a scratch. (I was being thoughtful even after being pepper sprayed I told myself like pulling a blade on my boyfriend is normal not that I didn’t learn this from watching my mother) I should also explain that by NYC standards my apartment was huge a good 650-700 square feet and not NYC square feet but that was the actual size of the apartment so it was a good distance from the kitchen through the dining room into the living room where the from door was. Well he got caught at the door trying to unlock it and I half blind caught the back of his thigh as he tried to kick me away in defense. He got away and I figured I just scratched him. He’d go drive around and come back and everything would go back to normal. We’d keep getting high. I run to the bathroom to wash the spray out of my eyes so that I could hide the obscene about of crystal I had in my apartment just in case the cops showed up.

I look back at this and I’m really disgusted with myself. I wasn’t worried about him or that I stabbed him or that I was just pepper sprayed. My soul concern was to hide my drugs so that I didn’t go to prison and so that if I did get arrested for assault I’d be able to go home and get high again. So I hid the drugs in a pretty good spot cause when the cops showed up they were there for about 2 hours and never found the stash. They found the broken pipe and the box cutter with his blood on it. I tried to lie and tell the cops that he got cut when I threw the broken pipe at him after he freaked out and threw it on the floor. The cops sat with me and opened the windows to help air out my apartment. The cops in Tucson are used to arriving at tweaker incidents’ so they didn’t seem shocked. I assume that my boyfriend informed them that I was a drug dealer and that I was trafficking large quantities of crystal in various ways because they really ransacked my apartment. I hadn’t gotten my living room furniture yet so they really only tore up my bedroom kitchen and bathroom (and no I’m not telling you where I hid the stuff but it will be in the book so if you know a publisher get me a book deal and we’ll talk) and I thought it was hysterical when they pulled the little zip-loc baggie of catnip out and asked me what it was. I explained that it was for my cat Pete. They weren’t buying it but I told them to smell it and look at the cat react to it. When they started to search my apartment I realized or was just paranoid enough about the whole situation that I decided to pull one of my Jedi mind tricks (cause I know how to manipulate very well). I said to the cop that my boyfriend probably told you I was a drug dealer cause before he flipped out he started saying crazy stuff like that and he started accusing me of being some big dealer from NYC. (IMAGINE THAT) The cops asked who’s stuff were we smoking so of course I played little mister innocent and said it was only the 3rd time I’d ever done it and that my boyfriend introduced me to it. I told them that I was a good kid from NYC. Well they bought some of the horse shit I was feeding but not all of it. They found the box cutter and just like a CSI episode they sprayed it and there it was 3 little speckles of blood proving that I cut him with the box cutter. On went the cuffs…

I admitted that I threw the box cutter at him but it was after he broke the pipe and started screaming at me. Now mind you I might have also said something like I broke the pipe because I didn’t like this stuff and how it was making us act so that I could make myself look like the martyr. Either way my ass was in Tucson’s version of central booking. It was this big room I had to have a cavity search. I literally had to spread my ass cheeks so that the guard could see right up my ass. They didn’t stick any fingers up me but I saw them or rather heard them do it someone else that came in behind me. All I could think of was am I gonna crash while I was in jail. The system is different in Tucson I thought I wasn’t gonna get out till Monday morning since I got arrested on a Friday night but they released me about 12 hours later. So the next morning after getting my court date I made my way back home and all I could hope for was that the cops didn’t find my stash. Now here’s the slick thing. There are no pay phones near the jail. I walked about 2 miles to the corner store where I called a cab and went home so that I could get high and that’s what I did. By the time I got home my apartment had aired out and the pepper spray had finally worn off and I could breath. So I breathed in a bunch of hits and did that the rest of the weekend. I was sentenced to anger management that I never went to and one more amends I still have to pay the Tucson court fees. None of this stopped me from using, in fact me and the boyfriend got back together that same week. We went right back to our same old routine. Things continued to get worse but I’ll talk about that later.

What’s so funny to me not ha ha funny but karma funny is that even with this was not a big enough bottom for me to get clean. In fact 2 years later still using after I moved back to NY and health complications I developed a ingrown hair that got infected in my thigh that has left a scar that looks just like the one I gave my ex. It’s just on the front of my thigh. I wasn’t high when I got my scar. I was sober 2 months at the time and felt the incision that the doctor made. The addict in me wants to say my scar is bigger and hurt more since I wasn’t high when they cut me open but the reality is I had it coming!

Monday, September 21, 2009

A BLAST FROM THE PAST


They keep crawling out the wood the work! Yesterday I went to a night out at the park, gay day at 6 Flags. Now I was stressed to the max after helping to organize a bus for 48 people but with a lot of help from great people we pulled it off and had a blast!

As I walked past the fountain behind the main entrance the gayest of gay entertainment began, CHEERLEADERS! My first thought whenever I see “Bring it On” or Cheer squads on ESPN2 is of my dear friend John from when I lived in Ft Myers Florida. We are both native NYer’s who somehow migrated to the sunshine state. When we first met we were instant friends. He was one of the last friends I made before I turned to the dark side. We were young with the whole world ahead of us and I had no idea of the bitch slaps life was going to swing at me. I would drive down to Naples Florida where John coached a high school squad and he would always try to teach me gymnastics and how to flip and jump from the trampoline and I just never had the co-ordination for it. Somehow I always landed wrong and hurt myself so I gave up on it rather quickly. I did enjoy the bouncing though. As I approached the squad by the fountain I noticed the one standing directly in front of me was none other then my dear friend John. It has been over 7 years since I’ve seen him and I am so happy to run into someone from the good ole days.

It was around the time I met John that things started to unravel in my life. Not that he had anything to do with it, just bad timing. It was around this time that my step-father perished in 9/11 and then my grandmother died and many other disasters like my real father giving me a hit of acid and telling me to live a little. So pretty much most of that time is a big blur to me do to all the drinking and drugging that followed. I can remember faces and names and events but big chunks are missing. Before the crystal took over my life there was ecstasy and before and during that there was vicadin weed vodka & tequila. Now John was not one of the bad influences that contributed to me decent, in fact he was one of the anchors holding to the good side. He never engaged in the drugs and never had more then two cocktails while we were out. He was a constant reminder of the “goodie two shoes” that I used to be but he was always fun and funny and great to be around. Plus all he hung out with was hot diesel little gymnast cheerleader boys what more could a boy ask for.

I can’t wait to spend some time with him catching up and reminiscing about the past. I have found a few of my old Florida friends on myspace and facebook but they all live far away like Florida or in some cases Michigan. Its great to keep up with them from the computer monitor but its not like we can go to the beach together or take a road trip down alligator alley or memory lane via the World Wide Web. I can tell you John and I had some great adventures like the time I pulled over on Alligator Alley US 41 and was standing 6 feet away from an 8’ alligator, or the time his car broke down and we walked the railroad tracks back to my house when two black racers (a local non venomous snake in south west Florida) took off from the under the tracks and into the woods. Now I don’t like snakes especially after my roommate’s Boa bit me, but I’m not scared of them. What was so funny about this event is that John is about 6’2” and built like a football player, I’m 5’10” and at the time maybe 145lbs wet. Also John was dressed and still does dress pretty butch, back then and on this day I was dressed in a white cut off tank top with “material girl” in red glitter and red cargo pants. So when the snakes sped off I thought it was hilarious that John leaped into my arms like a scared little girl. (Sorry John I had to tell that story it’s my fondest memory of you) We made it to my house and car without a scratch back then we were so resilient I thought I was invincible. Oh how the years have taken their toll.

Monday, September 14, 2009

When the cat gets out the bag


Sorry to keep you all waiting for this entry but I’ve really just been caught up with dealing with life on life’s terms. I doubt I would have been able to get through what has happened over the course of the last two weeks if hadn’t been for all the love and support of the wonderful people in my life.

Things started to hit the fan Wed September 2nd when I received a phone call from my mother urging me to become a civil servant. I told her I appreciated the job posting she forwarded to me and that I would look at them. I also told her that I would appreciate if she would actually take my education and career goals in mind when she was deciding what I should be doing. I agree with her whole heartedly that a job with a pension is a logical safe step. I explained to her that my heart is in the non-profit world and that I’d be happy to work for a city agency that had a mission statement that was near and dear to my heart.

My mother then proceeded to contact an old family friend to recruit into her game. I get an email from this family friend telling me I should really get a job with the city. I know my mothers handy work. I’ve been playing this chess game called my life with her for 30 years. I bluntly told this person that I’d appreciate it if he stood out of my career goals and ambitions and to not relay messages from my mother to me or that I would simply cut him out of my life. He understood and apologized not realizing that he was getting sucked into the mellow drama between mother and I.

Out of desperation my mother contacted an estranged relative to relay the same message. This relative is very close with me and not my mother for many justifiable reasons that I won’t get into right now. Up until that Friday I was the only blood relative speaking to my mother. Not that I’m close or fond of my mother but out of pity. Our mutual relative replied back asking why they should bother to repeat the message when my mother had made a very vulgar comment publicly about them. Then in a last ditch effort to gather support in her personal goals for my future my mother revealed to this relative very sensitive information about me that I had been keeping private. My mother was only privy to this info out of necessity not out of confidence in a trusted love one.

Needless to say I was outraged and upset about this relative finding this out from my mother. It was not her secret to tell and in no way was this, the scenario that I had planned. I had made it very clear that it was not information to be shared with anyone else. I feel violated by this and countless other events and have decided that for my own sanity and mental health that my mother is no longer a part of my life. I know I don’t have the ability to read minds, however I do know that my mother did this out of spite and as an attempt to manipulate someone to take her side. I can say that the silver lining is that it only has brought me closer to the person she gossiped to.

At this moment in time my mother no longer exists to me. I do not have the energy to keep defending the onslaught against every boundary or line in the sand I draw. In order to take care of me I need to keep surrounding myself with the good people in my life and I have plenty. I will not tolerate people in my life threatening my recovery. There are roles in life such as motherhood that we preconceive to be safe and loving, so why do I have to look to other relatives, friends and even strangers for this type of support? I’m not going to trash my mother here. She is a sick person that loves me the best she can. I just can’t accept toxic love anymore; my standards have become too high. I will be treated with love and respect by people in my life not be manipulated and controlled.

Saturday, September 12, 2009

STAY TUNED!

Hey my peeps I've got a lot brewing and gonna be pounding the keyboard soon so stay tuned! I promise to make a few entries this week but at least one this weekend so you guys can start your Monday to a juicy piece of drama from my life to make your week exciting!

LOVE YOU ALL AND THANKS FOR ALL THE SUPPORT!

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

SORRY!

Hey everyone! Please don't think I'm abandoning my blog I'm just trying to process a lot of things that have happened recently and at this moment they are a little to hard to talk about. I'm working things out and keep trying to pound my thoughts into the keyboard but nothing really makes sense right now. I guess my drama is causing writers block at the moment.

Monday, August 31, 2009

UNO MOMENTUM


Where do I begin to describe the weekend I have had? I’ll start by saying I’ve found exactly what I’m looking for and exactly what I’m not looking for. Of course this resulted from two different guys 3.5 dates a going away party and one hicky on my neck.

This course of events was set in motion a while ago but caught speed Thursday. I got emailed from a really cute guy with a dorky comic screen name so we’ll refer to him as Comic Guy or CG for short. Meanwhile I had already been chatting with this really sexy guy for a while online but just never met due to conflicting schedules so we’ll refer to him as Exhibit Sexy or ES from here on. Now mind you I’ve had a crazy two weeks I’m recovering from a pinched nerve and bad sinus infection so I’m kind of a mess right now.

I make a date to meet CG on Friday evening while he’s on his dinner break and I like these kind of dates you meet have a cup of coffee and shoot the shit no muss no fuss right, well I meet him and he’s adorable so we chat and make arrangements to meet up on Sunday. Now its Friday evening I run home freshen up and go to a meeting in my neighborhood and then to my neighbors for a movie then I get text from ES and we make plans to hang out Saturday night. Honestly what would you do? ES represents sexual energy to me while CG represents the guy I’d introduce to my Aunt Lu and since it’s only one date in with CG I am willing to admit I’m just planning to have a hot time with ES before I jump head first into something with CG.(OK I know this makes me sound like such playa but you know what hate the game ok cause its not like either one of these guys are my boy friend so 3.5 dates in three days is not that serious so stop judging me!)

Now I know how the ES guys roll they will cancel on you in a heart beat if something better comes their way so I’m not even expecting to really meet him Saturday night so while running errands CG invites me to his job for lunch and I stop by. I’m tired and not feeling well after running errands with a friend all morning so I cut or date short ergo the ‘.5’ and return home to nap and prepare incase ES does show up and he does.

Here’s where things get messy instead of it just being a casual encounter we spend the night talking. We watch two movies cuddle and talk all night. Now I have him pegged as your typical playa type so I had no expectations other then sex and honestly we didn’t have sex. He’s entangled and I respected that but what’s crazy is that the cuddling and actually falling asleep on his chest made me terribly aware of what it is I’m really looking for and that’s the feeling of safety and comfort. Saturday night ending with me wanting more, but I was completely satisfied with what I got.

Sunday is a completely different story. Again being the busy bee I am I run around during the day and come home to prepare to have CG come over. He arrives and I give him points for traveling 3 boroughs’ to see me. Now here’s where I go wrong. I’ve categorized CG as the nice BF type and so I’m hopping to talk more and get to know him and see where things go. Also I’m taking him to a going away party for a friend of mine that night. He arrives and his only intention is sex. To add insult to injury he arrives with a bottle of vodka and red wine. I did tell him the party was a byob so bring what he liked but I also explained I’m in recovery and don’t drink at all but he couldn’t rap his head around why I wouldn’t have wine with dinner. We get to the party which is mostly gay men (theatre kids) and he gets shit faced. I can sense his insecurities cause after his 4th drink he keeps trying to claim his territory by kissing me and groping and hugging me at the party and then in the cab home he asked if I had ever slept with my friend who the party was for. Now were back at my place and he’s three sheets to the wind and trying to get some action and I have to shoot him down. I made it clear that he’s intoxicated to me and that it wouldn’t work out. So he passes out. He left this morning and he won’t be returning.

Its funny how all this doesn’t make me fill bitter. In fact it makes me feel happier then ever to know that I know now more then ever what I’m looking for in a relationship is the mental and spiritual intimacy that I’m seeking, the ability to just be next to someone, and fall asleep to the rhythm of their pulse. Also I’ve learned that the guys that look like the safe bets can be the bigger danger then ones our mom’s warn us about, I’m glad my sobriety is still intact and that I make it a non-negotiable in this dating game. ES actually was drinking a beer while he was here but he knew I didn’t drink so he never offered me any and also didn’t apologize for drinking it. CG out of guilt never opened his wine bottle and proceeded to have 5 cocktails and embarrass me at a party after trying to simply get his needs met.

My lesson here is that that wolves have hearts and lambs have teeth also I really am on the right track and one moment the right way with the wrong guy followed by another moment the wrong way with right guy confirms I’m moving in a very healthy positive momentum and sooner or later the right guy is going to show up!

Friday, August 28, 2009

Bridge & Tunnel


Manhattan is a very small island and NYC is the most densely populated city in the US. All though it’s the melting pot of America certain spices prefer to clump up; as they say bird of a feather flock together.

I am fortunate enough to call myself a local here. I've lived in 3 of the 5 boroughs and I have lived in several other states so I have a gracious perspective of this city esp. the mass transit system. When I lived in Tuscan AZ there was no inner gay community or gay ghetto we were just peppered around in various places. A good hook up could be over an hour away door to door. I think NY gays don't realize how easy it is to get across or up and down town, cabs buses and subways are abundant.

Here's an example: I had met someone that turns out to live 6 stops from me on a merging train line. Literally 3 stops transfer to either the local or express train depending on who would go to the others house. I took the trip late one night after midnight when the trains run slow and it still only took me 25 minutes but he passed out. He apologized and tried to get me to come over again the next day. Now the old door mat I was would have said sure but the ‘new me’ with higher standards said "Are you fucking kidding me?” (To myself) I can show up in the middle of the night to your crack stack train station and have to turn around and go home but you aren't willing to come to my place cause its in ‘the Bronx’ then I have no time for you. If my neighborhood is a GU (geographically undesirable) to you then back at ya. I'm not starting a relationship nor even willing to date someone where there is a power struggle going on with clothing. I'm willing to go as far as you are. If I can be expected to go to your place you can damn well come to mine, its not like this person lives on 5th Ave or Central Park West or any of the gay neighborhoods like Hells Kitchen or Chelsea or even the West or East Village. He lives in an even more remote area with far less access then I do. So when you throw the "it’s an entirely different borough" crap at me I lose interest.

So cute Manhattan boy I hope you know your closed mindedness on inter borough travel makes you the bridge and tunnel trash because I’m as far from you as you are close to me. You just can't see past your moat the east river!

Monday, August 24, 2009

I ONCE WAS LOST


I was working down on Houston last evening and I noticed several people that were pulling luggage and after then each passed me by the second time I realized they were off there baring which is easy to do down on the LES. My first reaction was one of sympathy how terrible it must be to not know where you're going, but then two separate individuals passed me a third time I realized they were lost. I recognized the panic and despair in their eyes and became very upset with myself. Who was I to pity these people and how quickly I have forgotten some of the many sub-basements of my bottom.

I've traveled the country looking for my place in the world, where I fit in and felt normal and most importantly safe with peace of mind. I'm still looking and I doubt I'll ever stop but I've narrowed it down my home town of NYC for now. I have been building my a foundation here and I think that the sign of it being a good one is that I almost forgot how bad things used to be.

After my total recall I was happily reminded of insanity when a very unstable person passed by me on Houston screaming obscenities at everyone. But wait there's more. Today was Bronx Gay Pride day and not only did I help set up the stage but I also went out to celebrate and go dancing. I will go into more detail about this adventure later but suffice to say I did stay sober. The club I went to in the Westchester Sq was not your typical Chelsea experience. It had a very small town feel but I liked it. It reminded me of my days in Florida when I was as young as the boys in this place, which brings me to my point.

At first I was very nervous and uncomfortable going to club but I saw some many young people that at first I just said OMG was I ever that young? As I watched them watching each other I realized some of them were trying to find themselves like we all once or still are. So I looked inside myself and found who I am at least at this point in my life and I liked no I loved what I saw and so I got on that dance floor and I TURNED IT OUT!

WERQ BETCHES

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

That’s how it goes…

I’ve given up on the happy ending, the white night on his stead or Ducati, at least for now. At this moment in time I’m taking what I need and leaving the rest. I continue to date and put myself out there and am still disappointed. If I kiss anymore frogs I’m gonna be in a valtrex commercial. Not that these guys are ugly or bad guys there just hasn’t been anyone that I’ve said “Hey I want to introduce you to my family.” It’s not that no one is good enough for me it’s that they aren’t good enough for the people that are too good to me. I share so much love and receive so much from the loved ones around me that they just don’t measure up. Sorry guys but you’re not good enough for my baby brother and his mom or my Aunt Lu or my cousins or Melinda and her mother. The funny thing is everyone in my life in a non romantic way is worth it. All my friends measure up. I guess I need to start fishing in my own pond. Why do I have such a hang up about this?

Either you get your terms met from people you don't want
Or want what you want from people that don't want to give it to you

Friday, August 14, 2009

District 9


I know I don't usually talk about movies or other form of pop culture but after seeing District 9 I have to tell you to go see it!

Like any scifi movie there are bound to be inconsistencies but the way this movie was able to piece different aspects of other scifi tails and improve upon them is worth mentioning. The formula they used to combine a documentary about refugees a man trying to do his job & family trying to get home, that just happen to be aliens to create one movie was thoughtful and well approached and didn't feel contrived at all.

The movie starts with the documentary style that people use to make the most unbelievable seem believable. We all have seen the "Blair Witch Project" and if you didn't like "Cloverfield" I still think you will like D-9. It follows Wikus van der Merwe at work and his promotion with his company to personally evict the aliens from District 9. Each shot seemed to start from the interview or from a security camera or military scope which tied the bouncing shots together very well. It really made the action flow at a great pace while still letting you connect to even the CGI Prawns.

Then there's the 'Modern Refugee' story we were promised by Steven Spielberg in "The War of the Worlds" who instead gave us Tom Cruise and Dakota Fanning over acting us to death. Director Neill Blomkamp gives us a story that could be anywhere and he sets the tone right at the beginning of the film refugees or immigrants invited legal or illegal could show up anywhere and he makes a clear point about the emotions that are stirred with the natives, but in this story the refugees are from another planet.

Wikus do to circumstances is now being hunted by his company and is forced to work with a Prawn named Christopher and his child and we start to see the "humanity" in the Prawns while struggling to hold on to his own. In Order to survive he was trust in Christopher. We watch him struggle with this and later watch Christopher question whether he can trust Wikus.

With all this great plot and dialog (half in Prawn) we also get great action and horror. Amazing weapons are at the disposal of the Prawn and this is where you can see that the picture is trying to tell us that these refugees may actually be peaceful creatures that we are just choosing to not try to understand. I really enjoyed the battle suit scene and many more aspects of this film.

Watch this movie and then pretend that the prawns were any other race or creed.

Sunday, August 9, 2009

You Don’t Need to Fear god To Date Me, Cause I Will Cut You!


I was asked to speak at a meeting tonight that focuses on “SEX INTAMACY & RELATIONSHIPS” and I was a loss for words. I never think about what I’m going to say at a meeting so that I don’t sound rehearsed or as others would say “I let my higher power speak through me” Usually I try to be Mr. Punch Line but I couldn’t get my head around how serious of a topic this is.

Of course I gave the blog a plug (shameless product placement) but I didn’t mention the name of it. I guess do the fact that I’ve been dating so much lately I realize how much of myself I’m giving away. Whether it be in the rooms, or on first & second dates. I still haven’t had a third date but hey ‘PROGRESS NOT PERFECTION’.

I have to admit the more I examine myself and dig deep down to how I’m really feeling I become more aware of the fact that I actually am happy to be single. I’m not alone that’s for sure and I haven’t met anyone that I’m ready to settle down with yet either. I am becoming more aware of the fact that it takes way more then two dates to really get to know someone. I’m also realizing that you can learn a lot by the second date especially when it lasts almost three days.

First dates can wrong in so many ways, so can second and I wouldn’t be surprised if thirds fourths and fifths etc can do the same. At least I haven’t stabbed anyone… Recently!

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

Wendy told me to do it!

How You Doin! Awright!

That's right peeps I was on the Wendy Williams Show today and I got to ask Wendy something. Now if you guys recall "cafe Con Frenemy" back in April I mentioned Facebook as a tool for investigating beau's and suitors so that you can see who they talk to the most or have the most "cyber interaction" with.

Recently I posted some old pics of me on facebook of when I was younger and thinner to help inspire me in my diet and quest for a lost waist line and it really helps. Well for the last few days my mother has been blowing me up on facebook. Making rude comments about my scantily pictures and just being plain rude so I asked Wendy if I should delete my mom and she said yes.

Now I tried to set her to have limited access to my page but that didn't stop her from commenting or sending emails about the stuff that I have public.

I'm now short one friend. :(

Saturday, August 1, 2009

When Beautiful People Do Ugly Things


There I was waiting for the 2 train at Time Sq where standing before was one of the most handsome Latino men I have ever laid eyes on. Not only did he have the face of an angel he also had a body that was built for sin below the neck. He was very muscular not that that really gets me going but what caught my eye was his ass. Below his 48"chest was maybe a 28-30" waist and below that must have been a 36" butt. Not a fat one, the one that you know is on top of really muscular thighs. Suffice to say I was melting.

I stood next to him on the train when I noticed his hands. That was it I am in love. perfectly masculine manicured nails. No nail biting, no bruises or cracks, or nail polish or buffed shininess, just beautiful hands and finger nails. Then he fucked it up. He started making these hand motions like he was playing a video game I thought at first. As I continued to study his motions I realized what he was doing.

He was practicing taking apart a gun then firing it, then all these other motions that were apparent to coordinate with rifles and machine guns etc. I don't need to know how to do these things but I've seen enough Rambo like movies to get the jest. I realized he must me a military guy or a police cadet (I am a sucker for uniforms) but that's not an excuse.

I don't care what your opinion on gun control is unless you agree with me. "Guns don't kill people. People kill people." Stupid people say this cause 3 year old's don't bleed to death by sticking bullets up their noses' and gangland murder rates aren't so high cause they drive by break dance. Things were different when you were a kid (unless your my age or younger) cause guns were hard to come by! Asshole! So don't romanticize an object that can kill me, but feel free to try to break my hip!

Thursday, July 30, 2009

Unlimited Rides


The heart beat of mid America may be Chevrolet, but the pulse of NYC is our mass transit system. I may not be a fan of the MTA and the fare hikes but I’ll throw down with anyone that talks smack about the NYC subway system. My neighbor constantly complains that he never has a seat or that the stations are so dirty blah blah blah… He’s correct but I always answer his complaints with “What time does the Boston subway system (his home town) stop running?” and he shuts up.

Not only does the transit system connect 5 boroughs and 4 million riders a day but it also connects people on a one on one level. Now I know a lot of people but today I happened to run into about 6 people in random locations that I haven’t seen in a while one person twice today but another one in the most random of locations. On a subway platform in midtown on the east side I saw a fellow that I see once in a while at meetings. I can’t help but feel connected and at home in NYC. I see people I know everywhere I go and I love that. As an addict a relapse is always an arms length away so it’s amazing to me that I can find recovery with the swipe of a metrocard.

While the MTA fairies were sprinkling me with recovery dust on another subway line my Aunt was the witness to a rather contrasting picture. On the train was a mother using a toothbrush to fix her daughter’s hair. My aunt stated that as the little girl cried the mother just began to curse at her. It reminds me of the scene in Mommie Dearest when Joan Crawford finds Christina using her makeup and hair products and decides to chop all her hair off.

It makes me think about how many people lack any sense of composure or tack. I’ve seen men clip their nails on the train, masturbate, pee between cars and sexually harass women and I’ve even been mugged on a platform. I think you’re not officially a New Yorker even by birth until you’ve been mugged. It’s a right of passage good for one fare. I’ve even seen women pee themselves, (poor old lady) and all sorts of other things, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Not only is there really great entertainment at busy transfer stations but there are dance and barber shop quartets and panhandlers with the same stories from 15 years ago but there are also our friends and family heading to a destination so lets be thankful for them arriving home safe tonight.

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

GIMME A HUG part duex


I was working in Union Square Park today and guess who i saw? Solomon the leader of the Free Hug Cult. He was not garnishing a giant free hug sign but he still had his sexy airs about him, although I could smell patchouli oil I am still fascinated by this create. The best part was as always in Union Square Park people like to get up on soap boxes and preach whatever they want and either connect with the crowd or in today's case enrage them. Including me. Solomon and I both challenged this preacher as he spit inconsistencies. I'm sorry of you're gonna open your mouth have the facts and data to back yourself up DON'T USE THE BIBLE as factual information in modern society. Compare all you like that's fine. Tell us how good things were when Jesus was here and blah blah blah, but don't talk about how aids in Africa is due to unchristian African truck drives that spread disease, or that abstinence reduces STD and teenage pregnancy rates. This is not me saying what my opinion is and making it fact like religions' try to do this data processed from the CDC (the Center for Disease Control) telling us that not educating people puts them at risk. I'm not gonna get into all the details of this asshole but I voiced my opinion since he was an idiot.

It was nice to see Solomon who informed me he was flattered of my blog entry from May 23rd "give me a hug" and to see him ruffle the preachers feathers. I went back to work knowing that Solomon and his crew would give preacher man a run for his money!

GOD I LOVE UNION SQUARE PARK!!!

Monday, July 27, 2009

WEPA! VIVA LA BOOGIE DOWN!


Hi peeps. This past week has been a little crazy and I have a lot of things going on this coming week but as always a vow to deliver an entry every Sunday/Monday to you guys in order to maintain the momentum. All I have to start working on some other writing assignments that I need to get done, like my college application essay (which some how I need to keep less then 250 words YEAH RIGHT) and a short story draft so I can have time to edit it for entry into a competition.

Ok so I recently attended a round table discussion at the local Pride Center here in the Bronx and I am really happy about the new acquaintances I’ve made. For starters the group was much larger then I expected and it was facilitated very well. As most of you know I’m no stranger to group therapy and am also very very critical of facilitators. I think that it’s a personal experience for each individual but I also think I have a sense for those that are able to use their personal style and the ability to adapt it the needs of the room. As my old councilor at rehab says “It’s about bringing as many people to the table as possible.”

For starters the group was 2 fucking hours long but it went by rather fast and we let the topics organically grow from each comment made. There was no set agenda or curriculum and plenty of cross talk but all healthy positive feedback. Now here’s the kicker it was a “Latino” group! For most of you that know me I’m very open about the fact that I’m half Italian and half Puerto Rican but lets be honest even my mother calls me a “gringo” cause I have acclimated and immersed myself in what would be considered “Caucasian Gay Society” well call it “CGS” from here on. Let me be honest here I’m afraid of my own gene pool well not afraid but they make me uncomfortable whether they be stereotypical Italian Guidos’ or Puerto Rican Boricuas’. I don’t know why I’m like this but I am. My mother is always telling me I need to be more in touch with my roots but I have a culture I lean towards the CGS and I know plenty of Italians and Puerto Ricans that are part of it but I also realize there is a large population of gays in both of these cultures that don’t feel apart of the CGS culture. At first I felt bad for them like they were depriving themselves of being part of their rightful culture and place but after this group I realize there is a place for a Latino Gay Society. I still don’t know if I’m a part of it but one thing that I’ve learned in recovery is that my disease always tries to convince me that I’m not a part of and that it’s up to me to engage the things I want to be included in, and this group was no different they welcomed me in and treated me as a part of. So one more point for recovery and another foul on the ‘ism’.

I admit I consider myself a white boy that can just tan well, however this has not spared me from the viscous tongue of racism. When I lived in Florida I had a very dark cinnamon bronze tan I’ve been called a spic asked if I was a member of a gang back home in the Bronx. I’ve received pity from my ex’s father who assumed that I was raised in a poverty level income due to my place of origin and I’ve been called a greasy dago from NY and I’ve been snapped at by people that assumed I was a bus boy in restaurant. All of these events took place in the south and south west. I’ve also had conversations started in Spanish and even been sexually harassed due to my Latin look when I was in my early 20’s. After that I stopped getting to dark of a tan but when I lived in Arizona I couldn’t help but get a dark tan and with my dark hair I’ve had Mexican people assume I was Mexican as well. Now I know my aunt right now is saying “NO WAY!” but even she thought I was an Asian man once from afar on the street. I have always been a chameleon of sorts and had the ability to blend in with my surroundings.

To native NYers’ we put a lot of value in our heritage. “What’s your background or where is your family from?” is a common question. Not to segregate each other but as a way of finding a commonality. We may be from different backgrounds or ethnicities or cultures or even subcultures but we seek out a common thread, religions, neighborhoods, sexualities, recovery fellowships, high schools & colleges. No matter how you slice it any wall can be a bridge. So who and or what am I? I’ll tell you who I am. I’m a recovering crystal meth addict named Tommy from Bronx that is half Italian and half Puerto Rican and I choose to surround myself with positive people that give me love and respect and I am learning that that doesn’t come from a specific culture but by the people I seek out in these groups, so if any one asks you where Tommy’s kin is from you can tell them his background is Kindness!

Monday, July 20, 2009

If you squirt lemon juice someone’s eye it doesn’t matter if you were trying to get it on their shrimp…


This has been a long week and I just got back from D.C. this morning and I’m really tired but I vow to always make an entry Sunday evening/Monday morning. I have three running ideas that I have chosen to keep on the shelf after I received some shocking news this evening. My ex that you all have heard from quite regularly was ‘outed’ today by a family friend.

For the ten years I have known Terence I have had an issue with his closeted lifestyle and several of his friends and myself loved his cover by subscribing to Maxim Magazine and then Stuff as well. Although it wasn’t the reason we broke up it played a factor but even then I knew it wasn’t my place to ‘out’ him. Besides it gave me a huge chunk of guilt ammunition when I wanted things my way.

They say the path to hell is paved with good intentions but for the details I’ve received this wasn’t done in an altruistic cause. It was done for some personal agenda. For me coming out was interesting experience. I first came out to my Aunt Lu and my grandmother Nana and both of them gave me their love and support. Neither were thrilled that I was dealt a hand that they perceived to be lonely and life threatening (this was ’95) but they knew that I had to live my own life and pursue the path that I felt was natural and right for me. Even my addict father who was in the ‘MOB’ (and as guido as he is and with the guido accent) said “You’re the only one that can live your life and all I want is for you to be happy.” My mother was another story even now at 30 she still hopes it’s a faze that I may still grow out of. So I would like to ask all of you to tell me how you came out or if you’re not out what keeps you in the closet?

Monday, July 13, 2009

I stopped holding my breath after the last aneurysm


I was talking with an old flame recently who happens to be a very good friend and I was shocked at how jaded and bitter he has become. At first I thought maybe he had just been drinking (which he had) but as I listened to what he was saying I realized he was a little jaded when we had first met too. I was just too wrapped up in my attraction to him and his rejection of me to even notice that he was suffering from his own pain from relationships. I remember now his circumstances coming to NYC and everything but most of all I remember how we met…

Thursday nights was one of my favorite nights out in NYC. I would regular Barracuda all the time and usually my bridge and tunnel trash friends and I would head to Splash to go dance. Thursday’s was booty music night as I used to call it. I am from the Bronx so I like hip-hop house music. I just do ok! Anyway on one of my nights out drinking in the fall of 2002 after just returning to NYC after living in Ft Myers Florida for a year I saw the cutest skinny little white boy shaking his ass like he was possessed by the spirit of a female black stripper. He could bump and grind and keep up with the beat like no boy I’d scene before. SORRY my gay white friends but most of you can’t dance. I am Italian and Puerto Rican so I know I can move but I had trouble keeping up with him but I tried my best. We kissed on the dance floor and then poof he took off with his friends and was gone. I thought well I guess I’ll never see him again.

One night on a date with this really sexy cop from Brooklyn that wanted to trade in his brand new Honda Accord for a Ford Crown Victoria (I hope I talked him out of it while I kissed and fondled him) we decided to go to Splash and I ran into sexy white boy dance again. I had to make my move. I ditched the cop and go dance with him. It turned out he had just started working for a new airline that was becoming very successful so we’ll call him Jet boy. We exchanged numbers and went on a few dates and later on found out we were both on a date with the cop that night and both ditched him for each other or something like that. But I really really liked Jet boy and decided I was gonna get him a cute hallmark card to say “hi I like you” I don’t remember what the card said I know I picked it very well and made sure it didn’t come across as “I think I love you” but the face Jet boy made was one of sheer terror. I thought things were going really well I had met his roommates they all liked me we hung out together it was nice but after I gave him the card he made it clear that at 23 we are both the same age (well I’m 6 months older then him) neither one of us should be settling down and that he had just gotten out of a long relationship. I have to say he was very polite and kind about it and we continued to date casually after that but drifted apart.

We did remain friends till this day and 7 years later we both seem to be able to say we love one another. I am very grateful that he has always been there for me and never ever judged me when I was a total mess. As soon as I started getting my shit together he was one of the first people to tell me he was very glad and how much I had made him worry, and I can admit that if I thought I was the right guy for him or that we stood a chance of being together I’d really put up the effort to try to make it work. But Jet boy is always leaving on a Jet plane and never know when he’ll be back again. So even though we live in the same city I’m not gonna stomp my feet or hold my breath to make something happen cause we both missed that flight.

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

Hypocritically Speaking


I have to start questioning whether or not I’m an asshole. Or maybe more fucked up in the head then I am willing to admit. (But I’ll ask my therapist) So I’ve been dating, a lot but still no sex and I find myself hung up on the guys that play their cards closer to the chest. Here are some lyrics that express how I feel:

I'm undecided about you again
Mightn't be right that you're not here
It's double-sided, cause I ruined it all
- But also saved myself, by never believing you, Dear

Everything good, I deem too good to be true
Everything else is just a bore
Everything I have to look forward to
Has a pretty painful and very imposing before…

I have too been playing with fifty-two cards
- Just cause I play so far from my vest
Whatever I've got, I've got no reason to guard
What could I do, but spend my best

“O’ Sailor” by Fiona Apple

No I have learned to play my cards close to my vest like the guys I’m attacked to so you would think I’d start going after the guys that put it all on the table right? Wrong I recently met someone that put it all on the table and I won’t lie said everything I want to hear so you would or even I would expect to be telling you all that I am now engaged and registered at Tiffany’s & Bergdorf’s but instead I got scared freaked out and ran.

Now I can pump my own brakes pretty well, hell after almost 4 months of no sex I can say I can stop on a dime. Here I go again still rationalizing my thought process here. If a sincere, attractive guy doesn’t stand a chance with me then who does? I’m starting to think just the assholes that I keep bitching and moaning about on this blog?

I know I am powerless over other people! I did my first step thank you! But I’m still out matched by my fears. I can work up the courage to go on a date to even kiss but I can’t stop playing the game. Is this my new M O? I tell you what I’m looking for and if you give it to me I scatter like a roach in the light. I don’t want to be this guy. This is the guy I keep complaining about. Maybe I should start writing about myself!

Monday, July 6, 2009

I Get So Emotional Baby


For years I kept my feeling like treasures... buried. Only letting the ones out that I thought would serve my motives. Pout when I wanted attention give love when I wanted it in return but I could flip it on and off like a switch. Now after many a tear dropped in a bucket I have realize that I can no longer hold back my emotions. Every now and then at the most unexpected moment they spill over the top.
Here I am watching a star trek movie and little sad moments burst me into tears. What the fuck is this about.

Well anyway I hope all of you have had a happy Independence Day. I also hope you are celebrating your own form of dependence, whatever your vices may be. I also hope one of them is reading my blog.

You know I’ve written about a lot of the flakes I’ve dated but I haven’t mentioned any of the nice guys the near misses that I have experienced.

What do you do when you meet someone that you have so much in common with and you have so much fun with that the relationship is perfect? What if you even really love the person?

Well in two cases I’d like to discuss I can tell you that one of them a fellow from the rooms I do truly love and I had to make a conscious decision to leave well enough alone and not ruin a healthy relationship. I decided to keep the rooms my safe haven and to not use them as a dating pool. I thought I could get away with dating in another fellowship but I realized to get to know people in other meetings I’d have to go to them regularly and share and here fellow’s shares and then make I’d be really attached to them and therefore not want to date them.

The other guy I met last winter was such a sweet heart we had great dates and tons in common. The problem is that we had too much in common. I care about him but if he were left handed and named Tommy I’d have to kill him. There is such a thing as too much in common. I want to have different outlets in life. If I have too much in common with a person there’s a chance I’d depend too much upon them. I left this relationship flicker out quickly. I enjoyed the connection I felt to this guy especially since he’s not a fellow. It was a learning experience to connect with someone not in the rooms.

So why am I so against dating anyone willing to let me in? I know I’m attracted to the unavailable guys but I’m really working on learning to accept that. I’m even learning to look for a guy that will be available. Why is myself worth (even with all this therapy and little bit of recovery) so low that I don’t all anyone willing to care about me to care about me. I’m working on it and hopefully I will be able to tell you all at some point that I have let someone in. Until then keep reading…

Thursday, July 2, 2009

Love on the Rocks


Hello again, hello!

Whether you can admit it or not you know that Neil Diamond has some of the most amazing love songs of all times EVER!
One of my fondest childhood memories is going for a ride in Nana Rose's 
Buick.  I would  sit on the arm rest in the front seat between Nana Rose, and her mother Nana Mary (my grandmother and great grandmother by marriage).

Nana Rose would ask me to serenade her and got to pop in the 8 track to "Love of the Rocks". I still know the song by heart and I dedicate it to all the men I've loved. The words with Neil's voice are truly haunting.

“Love on the rocks, ain’t no surprise, just pore me a drink and I'll tell you some lies, nothing to lose, so you just sing the blues, all the time

gave you my heart, gave you my soul, you left me alone here with nothing to hold, yesterdays gone, now all I want is a smile

First they say they want you, hear how they really need you, suddenly you find you're out there, walking in a storm

And when they know they have you, then they really have you, nothing you can do or say, you got to leave, just get away

We all know the song, you need what you need, you can say what you want, not much you can do when the feeling is gone, maybe blue skies above, but its cold, when your loves on the rocks...”

Written by: Neil Diamond & Gilbert Becaud

How is this not the anthem to the broken hearts club, and was this foreshadowing my entire love life to come way back in 1981?  I mean I was only 2 years old!  Was the evil eye put on me all those years ago riding in the Buick? Did I curse myself by singing along?

Now I've had a few relationships, on many types of rocks, so by now I’m never shocked when things go south, but I've always given my all in every relationship but as I get older and circumstances change I realize my all is changing as well. I've learned that giving to much of myself has only left me to bare the tundra of solitude. So how do I communicate what my needs are and meet someone else’s without running aground?

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

The paradox of rescue...


The paradox of rescue...

Hey peeps so sorry to keep you all waiting for my next entry. I would first of all like to thank all of you that have been following me that I know and those of you that are following me that I don’t know. I vow to continue to be the best me that I can be and bring you my thoughtful opinions and perspectives on the world.

I would also like to give a shout out to my friend Yamira that found me on Facebook and reunited me with several old HS friends! (Love you and FB) The best part of finding Yamira is that one we are exactly 6 months apart and have a weird connection I can honestly tell you I’ve scoured FaceBook and MySpace looking for her, but also she has a great memory and can help me fill in some details in regards to Doink (she was there) and she reminded me of his original nickname “Pigeon Giggles”

So let’s begin shall we?

If I save myself before you come to my rescue I'll resent you for making me do all the work. I’ll perceive myself as having done all the work to make myself the better person and I will wear it as a badge to prove to you that I really don’t need you and that I’m doing you a favor by hanging around with you. However if you save me I'll probably be overly grateful at first and over compensate initially in the relationship till I get fed up with it and start withdrawing. Then you’ll become resentful at how ungrateful I’ve become and how I no longer treat you like the hero on the pedestal that you used to be. This slippery slope will cause all sorts of discontent in the relationship finally killing it.

So what is the solution? Well I’ve accepted that the only thing I can accept from a partner is their love and companionship and that it is up to me to rescue myself, but maybe it’s fair game to play a damsel in distress up until you find me then not only will I help you rescue me but I also will know that you are the right guy for being willing to step off the high horse to lend a hand and I will then be able to give you clear and precise instructions on what I need to feel rescued. Then we can go off into the sunset and I can help you slay a dragon!

Sunday, June 28, 2009

I’m feeling a little verklempt!


Where do I begin this entry? I’m going to keep it short and to the point.

I got home Thursday afternoon from a wonderful visit with my baby brother and his wonderful mother Toni and eight days is not enough time to spend with him. While gone two friends passed away and I returned home to find out Michael Jackson and Farrah Fawcett had passed away. Now not that MJ remembers meeting me but he makes 3 people that I’ve met died in one week. I’m not bragging about meeting MJ but the two friends Scott & Giro that passed I am truly mournful over, not that the loss of the two icons aren’t as tragic they just weren’t as close to home.

My little brother asked me some questions about our dad and it’s so hard to answer him in a way that is respectful of the fact that A: my little brother is just ten. B: our father is an addict who suffers from a disease. C: I don’t want to make any complexes he may develop over these issues any worse. D: I don’t want to jade him with my own experiences regarding our father but I also want to protect him from the damage I suffered.

On top of all this I just checked to see if our dad is still alive and I found out he was released from jail a week after my birthday and his mug shot looks horrible. In recovery the one thing I honestly still pray for just like when I was a little kid was that my father would be safe and taken care of. Not that I believe in god but I cast out the thought that I hope he gets better and has the chance to gain what I’ve gained in recovery.

At this point though I really want to withdraw from my program and avoid all the friends I’ve made because people keep dying. It’s getting me down. Maybe I need to take a break but I don’t need to relapse…

Monday, June 22, 2009

Whining Altitude


I'm about 20,000 ft in the air and my ears just popped so violently that I dropped the book that I'm reading. I'm only 15 pages in and already I've wanted to open the emergency exit hatch and toss it to hopefully land on the authors head to strike him dead. Not for a lack of talent but rather for being able to make me cringe in disgust 7 pages in and cry at least 3 times already and I'm not even in the 3rd chapter!

I have had bad ear canals since I was a child and with smoking for 16 years of my life and being asthmatic and having bad allergies I have done enough damage to my inner sinuses and ear parts that I will be having tubes put in my ear this fall or winter. So as soon as we hit a certain altitude and the lack of pressure I felt my inner ear canals pop open and the worse of the 2 the right started to spray fluid down the back of my sinus cavity and down my throat. I know gross right! I'll tell you what guys I am afraid of the surgery but not so much to stop me from having it. For the past 3 years I've suffered from sinus infections that at their worst caused me to start suffering from tinnitus (ringing in the ears) for 5 months. The ringing never stopped I'd wake up to ringing, go trough my day ringing and try to fall asleep still ringing. At first I thought I wad losing my mind and being upstate with quack doctors I thought it was hopeless. I would break into tears in my office at work the first 2 months because I thought I was really losing my mind and I was told by everyone that I just needed to adjust to it.  Thank god it finally caused me to relapse on new years of '08 and after 2 months of crystal bingeing the dehydrating effect the drug had drained my ears enough to stop the ringing. I then got clean a month later and moved back to NYC where with the help of great doctors and an acupuncturist (hey Peter) I have developed a most complicated regimen to keep the tinitus and sinus infections away. This includes Claritin-d (after trying every drug without pseudoephedrine) to keep my sinuses dry, chinese herbs (magnolia pills) to also fight off colds and such, Nasonex to shrink the shrink the tissue where the ear canal meets the sinus cavity to help proper drainage, a netti-pot to keep my sinuses clean and help rinse mucus and debris that built up in there, and acupuncture to line some chia properly to tell my body to work properly. This sounds like a lot but the alternative is to have my ears swell and mess up my equilibrium to the point where blowing my nose would cause me to completely lose my balance from vertigo and fall. I've almost cracked my head on a few public & private toilets and or sinks. Holding on to a sink for dear life or praying to a toilet bowl to regain balance for sometimes up to 30 minutes is rather debilitating so if surgery will cure all this you're damn skippy I'm going under the knife.

Ok let's get back to the book. Its an author that has made it on Oprah's book club more then once and his first book I read back in the days of Doink and it was a real tear yerker. "She's Come Undone" by Wally Lamb I still remember how it pulled at every emotion I had. Now I'm reading "I Know This Much Is True" by Wally Lamb and already he's managed in 15 pages to strike on an issue too close to home. Losing a loved one to cancer. My grandmother (Nana) died on Jan '02 and I have never been the same. I have mentioned before that her death really sent me off to the races and to this I day I miss her to no end so if I don't make it through this book you all know why!

Thursday, June 18, 2009

I can't let you get away... You'll dial 911


I used to always find myself need deep in relationships. I think it’s probably one of my early forms of the 'ism'. I mean for an 11 year span of my life 16-27 I think I spent 9 in a relationship. Doink, James, Doink, Doink, Doink, Romeo, Bryan, Terence, Eddie and Rich. Now Rich and Eddie were each two years back to back and I was engaged to Eddie. Now don’t worry my peeps I’ll get into James Romeo Bryan and Eddie at some point each one is a lovely tale I tell but as always and the reason I started this blog is that I’m the common thread here. All the above named have just been catalysts to my ‘ism’s.

I have been single now for three years next month and yes I’ve dated and even had a second date or two but most of them were not anything that I wanted to jump into, further more I’ve made a conscious decision to start changing my ways so even though I relapsed a lot on drugs in my first two years trying to get clean I did not relapse into a unhealthy relationship. (And yes Terence our relationship was unhealthy because I was in it) So am I lonely yes but am I alone no! I have a ton of friends that I can call anytime I have meeting where I can complain how lonely I am. When I feel like this my favorite song by Jude is “Paper Towel” the lyrics mention not being immune to the loneliness and suggests communicating with the objects in the home and spooning an over sized pillow which I do, and that I can accept the caress of my razor on my cheek to feel not alone. I even took this another level whenever I feel really alone I take clean laundry that’s folded and put it in the bed next to me to really fill up that empty space in my bed. The one thing I have not yet done is take anyone else hostage.

Now I know it takes two to tango but I can look back at each one of these relationships and know that even if I didn’t twist the other ones are into being my boyfriend I sure didn’t pay attention to the signs that they were unhealthy to begin with to step out of the way of the truck. Now I’ve been dating for 2 weeks now and I’ve met some interesting and nice guys, and been shot down by a couple of them and I have shot down a few myself and I’ve met a few that I wanted to lock in my bedroom and not let get away but I chose to act like an adult and sulk in private and then I came up with the nifty idea to start this blog.

I have also started to notice my behaviors since I’ve gotten sober. One of my defense mechanisms is to be a bull in a china shop and just throw every issue I have at any and all suitors looking to get to know me. So I’m still carrying my baggage that is marked fragile and jingles like broken glass but I’m learning when it’s appropriate to put certain issues on the table. I do know that eventually I’d like to find someone that is willing to help me put my crap wrapped in Louis Vuitton in storage so that we can walk to Bergdorf Goodman’s and pick out new china in a less dysfunctional pattern. Until then I’ll be here waiting…

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

I ate a back street boy!



There are in my opinion several variations of the gay gene. Some gays are born with looks and style and a drive to maintain physical perfection. I hate you bitches. There are some that just have a charm and finesse that they just get everything they want. They usually need minimal effort to maintain small waists and possess just enough definition to attract everyone. Then there are those who have all the wit and cleverness that they become the beacon of what is culture fashion theatre or other wise. Then there are the unfortunate averages like me who toil to be on of the attractive side have a decent pinch of the wit.
I believe I'm in the average category. I know I'm witty and can be charming and I am intelligent but I've never really had the fashion sense nor the body. I did at one point and I worked very hard for it. I'm naturally just average but I discovered that high protein, low carb diets with 2-3 hours of cardio a day gave me a 31" waist. I threw in some push ups and a couple hundred crunched and sit ups and viola I had a washboard stomach. Now I know my good featured, 2 years on my HS fencing team (unsheathe gay joke here) gave me great legs and the half Rican half Italian packs quite a caboose on me but the chest and waist is a struggle. More so due to the fact that I was rather heavy when I was twenty, I think I ate one of the back street boys. The funny thing is that when I discovered my 1 drug of choice exctacy I didn't have to do as much cardio during the day. I would just dance from Friday to Sunday and not eat. Then I discovered I could eat whatever I wanted because it was never more then 4 days away till my next fast.
Even though I'm no where near as big as I once was nor as emaciated as I once was I have a hard time seeing myself as anything but fat. Now I get the bug to exercise but the addict in me that wants to check out knows that if I really push myself I can feel all sorts of great effects from over doing it. For instance the runners high, I love that high but my left hip and knee does not.
This is to remind myself that I can accomplish anything I set my mind to like losing eight inches off my waist without the use of drugs so if you hear me complaining when I get back from Tennessee just tell me to shut up and take a walk! I continue to accomplish my short term goals and I need to acknowledge that a acceptable waist size needs to be a long term goal that I can do!

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

The Velvet Rope/A Stir of Echoes


This is a journal entry I made in Jan or 2003 while at the Manhattan Family Court Building getting a ‘Restraining Order’ against my mother.

There are repressed memories, and there are memories you simply choose to forget. Today has made me wish they were repressed. Maybe then this flood of history wouldn’t be drowning me. I remember as a child sitting in the Bronx Family Court House while my mom would make attempts to force child support arrests on my Father, or sometimes taking matters into her own hands for my grandmother to get “Orders of Protection” against my uncle.

When I was younger they still had the red velvet ropes, just like the movie theatres, but even when they switched to the more functional nylon pull cords it didn’t change the ending. A subpoena that was never served an ‘OP’ that got lost in a drawer; court date forgotten. I can still walk the halls of that court house and not get lost. The layout the procedures never left me. The first floor was ok I knew the guards; they were always nice to me. Adults always noticed me as a child. They knew I was to quiet to calm. I think it must be unsettling to see someone so small and young and know they’re studying you. I know as an adult when I see children do this it scares me.

After passing security we would reach the giant lobby/waiting room that to my five year old height was big enough to play baseball in. However the tall ceilings and marble floors were covered with wooden benches and filled with women and children and some men. The voices carried and echoed in this giant room so everyone always seemed way too loud. (Maybe that was just due to being so low to the ground) I always made sure to bring a toy and learned to just bring one as to not have to share. I would think to myself in a 5 years vocabulary ‘why does she have to subject me to this? I can’t stand these people I can’t stand these other children all you are too rambunctious, don’t you know I’m above all this?” I would always wish that one of the nicely dressed lawyers would find me and decide to take me home to what I imagined was his big colonial house with a picket fence and his photographer wife, where she would always take pictures of me running and playing in the yard with our 2 German Sheppard’s and I’d have a awesome big brother that would teach me sports or a little brother that I would be awesome to. Then while I was sitting around that big lobby if anyone asked I could just tell them “Oh no I’m not like you I’m here with my dad he works here, he’s a Lawyer you know the one that just sent your crazy mom or dad to jail!”

Don’t get me wrong there were some people I would meet that I was able to tolerate. We’d find each other; all you had to do was look for it. I called it the gleam of despair. That loud wish in our eyes to be anywhere but here. We were the ones trying not to speak too loud so that the stupid people didn’t try to converse with us or even worse want you to play with their even dumber children. Like I said for the most part I just tried to stay to myself.

Nothing is as unproductive as a day in family court. It’s a day in your life you never get back; if you’re late arriving you wait till the judges return from lunch and you except defeat. Defeat always left a bad taste in my mouth. As everyone exits to grab a bite you’re left with three types of stragglers. The new arrivals that got there very late and had already ate, the truly pitiful that can’t afford to go buy lunch and worse of all is the category I fell into; the people that snuck in their lunch, either out of laziness to take a walk or like my mom conniving and manipulative. She would try to flirt with a guard of court officer to be pushed up on the list so that she would be next. Now while she would stroll around with her shoulders arched back to make her already arousing figure even more noticeable (she was quite the fem fatale in her day) I would be left eating a sandwich and an apple in front of the lady with three kids and no lunch. I was suffering from ‘onlychilditus’ would not eat so that I didn’t have to be stared at or worse share. This backfired a few times, when my mom would return from flirting she’s find my uneaten food and donate it to the unfortunate as a way to thank who ever was supposedly keeping an eye on me.

My mother always seemed to get along with these ladies; I think because she truly believed she had it just as bad yet she seemed to love knowing that they thought she was better then them. Then again my mother has the ‘ism’ as well so I supposed that was just her way of needing to feel ‘part of’.