Monday, October 24, 2005
Onwards and Upwards
Well I’m back!
I had a lot going on last week, so I took a mini-vacation from this journal. But now I’m back and in action and I feel great!
This weekend I went to DC to see my nearest and dearest friend, Rita. She’s giving birth in about 3 weeks and I was able to hug her and slap her belly all I wanted! We made lots of food and watched some great movies (rent Me, You, and Everyone We Know - it’s brilliant) and caught up on all that’s new in our lives. It was incredibly difficult to say goodbye to her yesterday as I re-boarded the Greyhound bus with my friend Jessica. It was such a fast weekend and I know that the next time I see her, she’ll have a baby suctioned to her tit. And I heard that the tit will eventually crack and bleed from over usage. YIKES! I’ll rub some lotion on those nips if you need me to Reets!
As you all know, I’ve entered this new phase of my life where I am only doing what I want to do. For 28 years, I spent so much time making sure that everyone else was happy that I found myself always feeling overwhelmed and angry. I’ve dealt with this issue in therapy quite a bit and at Sophie’s behest, I’ve now pulled away from those people who put too much pressure on me and even more importantly, those people who have a way of making me feel like shit about myself.
It’s not an easy thing, but I can tell you that I feel MUCH better about who I am and the direction my life is going. I’ve had a few run ins with some “friends” who have always been rather selfish and demanding, but as I had hoped, their true colors have shown themselves and I’ve conversely shown them the door. I have too many people in my life that want something from me and it feels liberating to weed those jerks out.
Tomorrow night I’m having drinks with some new people. I’m all about making new friends these days and it’s going to be great to sit down and have conversations that won’t end up in me feeling guilty for one thing or another.
This is the new Joe and you can see my happiness by looking into my eyes.
For some people it’s easy to be yourself and to make decisions. For me, I’m always worried about who’s going to be affected by my choices. Now, I’m making them on my own and I feel strong and capable and ready to move forward. The world really is my oyster and the only one holding me back at this point is myself. I’ve even given some serious thought to leaving the city in the next year or so. Whereas before I would have shunned this idea for fear that my family and friends wouldn’t accept it…I’m now entertaining these fantasies and I might just go forward with some of them. West Coast? Do I hear you calling my name?
I’m young. I’m alive. I can do what I want to do! Why did I never realize this before? I feel very excited about the options that I have and I feel motivated to make a few more major changes.
ROCK!
Thanks to all of you that have stuck by me through these transitions. It’s been a very difficult year for me, what with my intense break-up, my hitting rock bottom with my depression, etc.
But after last week’s therapy session, I feel surprisingly stronger than I ever have.
Hugs to all of you!
Well I’m back!
I had a lot going on last week, so I took a mini-vacation from this journal. But now I’m back and in action and I feel great!
This weekend I went to DC to see my nearest and dearest friend, Rita. She’s giving birth in about 3 weeks and I was able to hug her and slap her belly all I wanted! We made lots of food and watched some great movies (rent Me, You, and Everyone We Know - it’s brilliant) and caught up on all that’s new in our lives. It was incredibly difficult to say goodbye to her yesterday as I re-boarded the Greyhound bus with my friend Jessica. It was such a fast weekend and I know that the next time I see her, she’ll have a baby suctioned to her tit. And I heard that the tit will eventually crack and bleed from over usage. YIKES! I’ll rub some lotion on those nips if you need me to Reets!
As you all know, I’ve entered this new phase of my life where I am only doing what I want to do. For 28 years, I spent so much time making sure that everyone else was happy that I found myself always feeling overwhelmed and angry. I’ve dealt with this issue in therapy quite a bit and at Sophie’s behest, I’ve now pulled away from those people who put too much pressure on me and even more importantly, those people who have a way of making me feel like shit about myself.
It’s not an easy thing, but I can tell you that I feel MUCH better about who I am and the direction my life is going. I’ve had a few run ins with some “friends” who have always been rather selfish and demanding, but as I had hoped, their true colors have shown themselves and I’ve conversely shown them the door. I have too many people in my life that want something from me and it feels liberating to weed those jerks out.
Tomorrow night I’m having drinks with some new people. I’m all about making new friends these days and it’s going to be great to sit down and have conversations that won’t end up in me feeling guilty for one thing or another.
This is the new Joe and you can see my happiness by looking into my eyes.
For some people it’s easy to be yourself and to make decisions. For me, I’m always worried about who’s going to be affected by my choices. Now, I’m making them on my own and I feel strong and capable and ready to move forward. The world really is my oyster and the only one holding me back at this point is myself. I’ve even given some serious thought to leaving the city in the next year or so. Whereas before I would have shunned this idea for fear that my family and friends wouldn’t accept it…I’m now entertaining these fantasies and I might just go forward with some of them. West Coast? Do I hear you calling my name?
I’m young. I’m alive. I can do what I want to do! Why did I never realize this before? I feel very excited about the options that I have and I feel motivated to make a few more major changes.
ROCK!
Thanks to all of you that have stuck by me through these transitions. It’s been a very difficult year for me, what with my intense break-up, my hitting rock bottom with my depression, etc.
But after last week’s therapy session, I feel surprisingly stronger than I ever have.
Hugs to all of you!
Thursday, October 13, 2005
The Salve
Disclaimer: I'm not drunk right now. I'm wuh..wuh..wuh...WASTED. No for real. That's never an excuse, but if I ever had one, it's that. Ok. Can we continue? Dammit you're so demanding.
Lately I've been walking around...lol...ok...let's start again.
Lately I've had the word "salve" running through my head. Over and over and over. I've probably used it one hundred and 7 teen times over the last 3 days. And I always stop to think..."salve"? For fucking real. Salve? What the fuck is a salve.
Subconciously I know what the word "salve" means. Please...I WON my 5th grade spelling bee. No...for shizzle my 2003 can't get rid of the language nizzle. Snoop D, Oh, double jizzle. For izzlanyway
Tonight I finally realized why I've been rocking this word. At one moment during my evening, I had Mariah, Kelly, and Angie all in the same room. We ALL had a drink together! The last time that happened, Tivo wasn't invented. No for shizzl-fuck u seriously.
The only thing that came between us being together was my insanely annoying diarehhea. Dia..rehea..di...diahrea, diareeha. OMG. LOL. I was a spelling champion for pete's sakes!
So I spent some time in the bathroom whatever.
After our drinks, I went over to Mariah's and had an amazing time. As you remember from last week, Mariah and I have been through major battles. When we were with each other tonight, I had to make a million jokes about it and get in my digs, because my wounds are still fresh...and unsurprisingly enough, so are hers. It was real and up front, but it was also exactly what I've missed about her.
An hour later Angie told me that we were going to a party at this random straight bar. Oh...did I say straight? I meant lame. You understand.
And that wasn't a dig at straight people. At all. It's just...why so boring? Why. So boring? "I signed us up to play darts everyone!" And the sickest part...I love darts. Wrap your brain around that one.
Ryan Reynolds has a beautiful body in the Amityville Horror remake, but I'm ironically unattracted to him. Did you get it? Ironically unattracted to him. Shit. For being drunk, I'm totally intelligent. And hot. Too much pizza, but hot.
Long story with a boner...
I end up hanging out with two of Angie's friends, had major talks and ended up back at their place. Upon which, Angie kicked her foot up and caused a massive tsunami. (You see, I went with "tsunami" cuz I thought "earthquake" was too fresh. Man, I'm like the most sensitive guy ever.
The whole point of "Salve"...lol...remember "salve" and back when it mattered?
The whole point of "salve" is that I feel healed right now. I may be lit, but I've been lit previously. And I've never felt so fulfilled.
I miss my girls and I miss our unity. I miss our..."I know you even though you don't want me to know you" looks.
We're a group. And spending 25 minutes together with Kelly, Mariah and I sharing a couch, Angie sitting across of us...
It felt like home.
Salve.
I hope I never hear that word again for the rest of my life.
Disclaimer: I'm not drunk right now. I'm wuh..wuh..wuh...WASTED. No for real. That's never an excuse, but if I ever had one, it's that. Ok. Can we continue? Dammit you're so demanding.
Lately I've been walking around...lol...ok...let's start again.
Lately I've had the word "salve" running through my head. Over and over and over. I've probably used it one hundred and 7 teen times over the last 3 days. And I always stop to think..."salve"? For fucking real. Salve? What the fuck is a salve.
Subconciously I know what the word "salve" means. Please...I WON my 5th grade spelling bee. No...for shizzle my 2003 can't get rid of the language nizzle. Snoop D, Oh, double jizzle. For izzlanyway
Tonight I finally realized why I've been rocking this word. At one moment during my evening, I had Mariah, Kelly, and Angie all in the same room. We ALL had a drink together! The last time that happened, Tivo wasn't invented. No for shizzl-fuck u seriously.
The only thing that came between us being together was my insanely annoying diarehhea. Dia..rehea..di...diahrea, diareeha. OMG. LOL. I was a spelling champion for pete's sakes!
So I spent some time in the bathroom whatever.
After our drinks, I went over to Mariah's and had an amazing time. As you remember from last week, Mariah and I have been through major battles. When we were with each other tonight, I had to make a million jokes about it and get in my digs, because my wounds are still fresh...and unsurprisingly enough, so are hers. It was real and up front, but it was also exactly what I've missed about her.
An hour later Angie told me that we were going to a party at this random straight bar. Oh...did I say straight? I meant lame. You understand.
And that wasn't a dig at straight people. At all. It's just...why so boring? Why. So boring? "I signed us up to play darts everyone!" And the sickest part...I love darts. Wrap your brain around that one.
Ryan Reynolds has a beautiful body in the Amityville Horror remake, but I'm ironically unattracted to him. Did you get it? Ironically unattracted to him. Shit. For being drunk, I'm totally intelligent. And hot. Too much pizza, but hot.
Long story with a boner...
I end up hanging out with two of Angie's friends, had major talks and ended up back at their place. Upon which, Angie kicked her foot up and caused a massive tsunami. (You see, I went with "tsunami" cuz I thought "earthquake" was too fresh. Man, I'm like the most sensitive guy ever.
The whole point of "Salve"...lol...remember "salve" and back when it mattered?
The whole point of "salve" is that I feel healed right now. I may be lit, but I've been lit previously. And I've never felt so fulfilled.
I miss my girls and I miss our unity. I miss our..."I know you even though you don't want me to know you" looks.
We're a group. And spending 25 minutes together with Kelly, Mariah and I sharing a couch, Angie sitting across of us...
It felt like home.
Salve.
I hope I never hear that word again for the rest of my life.
Tuesday, October 11, 2005
Happy National Coming Out Day
If you’re in the closet, cut the shit and walk out of it. I’m serious. You’ll find yourself so much cooler and people will honestly like you better. I thought it was safe in my closet too, but then I came out and realized that the rest of the world has much more respect for an “honest” gay man, rather than a “closeted” gay man. Personally, I respect both. But I can tell you in all truth…walk out of it. It’s hard in the beginning, but it gets awesome in the end.
For today’s post, I figured that I would tell my own personal coming out story. I mean, why not? It’s not like “Joe” has always been gay. For a while there, I was the most effeminate stud on the block. I always had a girlfriend. In fact, I had one for 4 years that I never went down on. Now, you show ME an example of a straight guy that could have a girlfriend for 4 years, yet never do the nasty. I’m that good.
Yeah that’s right…I’m big on conversation. And clue to all you straight men out there…get a talkin or get a walkin.
I always knew that something was up with me. When I was in 8th grade, I was shocked to discover that my dick got hard and big every time that I thought about Arnold Schwarzenegger. Yet, then I would think about my girlfriend Jackie and nothing. But then Arnold and SOMETHING. But then Jackie and nothing.
Then I hit 9th grade. I looked at my parents’ Joy of Sex book in order to learn the technique of masturbation. G-d, I tried for hours and nothing. I would raise my ass in the air just like the pictures and I just couldn’t figure out what an orgasm was. Then one day, I’m doing my “technique” while watching Gilad: Bodies in Motion and I just exploded. I remember standing in my family room and jerking my dick and screaming at the top of my lungs when that weird sticky mucus came out. OMG…this was masturbation. And OMG…this was Gilad: Bodies in Motion.
Over the years I learned that personal pleasure was related to muscle men and social acceptance was related to tit touching and pussy fingering. It’s what was expected of me and it’s what I did. Although I gotta tell you, the inside of a vagina does for me now what it did for me then. NIGHTMARE OF MY EXISTENCE. I just don’t understand anything on the inside of my body and vaginas seem too open and fleshy to have a penis in there. Won’t you get an infection? And barf…let’s not talk about yeasties. That shit truly turns my dick inside out.
The years went by and when I was 20, I had my first gay experience. It was awkward and mean and I was made to feel like it was an ugly thing. “We can jerk off together and you can jerk me off if you want, but don’t try to kiss me”. Everything that I had previously believed about gay men was coming true. We’re all a bunch of faggots that don’t deserve love. We only deserve back corner blow jobs and relationships with guys that have long time girlfriends. What a shame.
I’m 28 now and I’ve just walked out of a 5 year relationship. While I’ve not learned much more about gay sex (still an intercourse virgin at 28 ya’ll), I’ve learned how honest and real a gay relationship can be. I will always love my Paul and I will always look at my relationship with him as something that is…was…always will be…a completely necessary step in my growth process. It IS possible to love a gay man and have a literal and logistical relationship.
If it weren’t for my friend Kelly, I probably never would have come out. We were sitting at Nancy’s Coffee Shop one day, in Crossgates Mall, and she told me that she was a lesbian. I sipped my hot chocolate (never was one for coffee) and basically saw my life flash before my eyes. Here was a 17 year old girl telling me that she was strong enough to be a lesbian, yet I was a 20 year old guy believing that I would eventually find the right girl.
I thought about what she said and I did the only natural thing. I went back to college and told the only girl I’ve ever been truly in love with that I was gay.
That was a fun day for Miss Rita and me.
Rita is essentially the first girl I ever came out to and Rita is the first girl that I ever struggled through it with. Within days I came out to Kelly as well and my history just kind of repeats itself after that.
Why is it that gay men can admit they’re homosexual, yet they can’t admit they’re gay? Why is it that I joke with my straight friends about feminine guys, yet I turn around and flame out myself? Why is it that I can’t look at any videotapes from when I was younger, because I’m embarrassed of my true self?
National Coming Out Day is one of the FEW days of the year when I’m actually proud of who I am. I walk around and think…I’m gay and I’m fucking happy with it. And you know why? Because I get a “holiday”, that no one recognizes, but still exists, and makes me feel like a real live, respectable, human being.
So I say to you.
Coming out of the closet is an activity that I do on a daily basis. I question my own “kind”, I put on the masculine voice, I pretend that I don’t have an affinity to Broadway musical soundtracks.
But on October 11th, I rush immediately home to work on a post that will remind me why I’m happy being Joe. Why I’m happy being gay.
This is my destiny. And I’ve chosen to accept the painful journey that goes along with it.
If you’re in the closet, cut the shit and walk out of it. I’m serious. You’ll find yourself so much cooler and people will honestly like you better. I thought it was safe in my closet too, but then I came out and realized that the rest of the world has much more respect for an “honest” gay man, rather than a “closeted” gay man. Personally, I respect both. But I can tell you in all truth…walk out of it. It’s hard in the beginning, but it gets awesome in the end.
For today’s post, I figured that I would tell my own personal coming out story. I mean, why not? It’s not like “Joe” has always been gay. For a while there, I was the most effeminate stud on the block. I always had a girlfriend. In fact, I had one for 4 years that I never went down on. Now, you show ME an example of a straight guy that could have a girlfriend for 4 years, yet never do the nasty. I’m that good.
Yeah that’s right…I’m big on conversation. And clue to all you straight men out there…get a talkin or get a walkin.
I always knew that something was up with me. When I was in 8th grade, I was shocked to discover that my dick got hard and big every time that I thought about Arnold Schwarzenegger. Yet, then I would think about my girlfriend Jackie and nothing. But then Arnold and SOMETHING. But then Jackie and nothing.
Then I hit 9th grade. I looked at my parents’ Joy of Sex book in order to learn the technique of masturbation. G-d, I tried for hours and nothing. I would raise my ass in the air just like the pictures and I just couldn’t figure out what an orgasm was. Then one day, I’m doing my “technique” while watching Gilad: Bodies in Motion and I just exploded. I remember standing in my family room and jerking my dick and screaming at the top of my lungs when that weird sticky mucus came out. OMG…this was masturbation. And OMG…this was Gilad: Bodies in Motion.
Over the years I learned that personal pleasure was related to muscle men and social acceptance was related to tit touching and pussy fingering. It’s what was expected of me and it’s what I did. Although I gotta tell you, the inside of a vagina does for me now what it did for me then. NIGHTMARE OF MY EXISTENCE. I just don’t understand anything on the inside of my body and vaginas seem too open and fleshy to have a penis in there. Won’t you get an infection? And barf…let’s not talk about yeasties. That shit truly turns my dick inside out.
The years went by and when I was 20, I had my first gay experience. It was awkward and mean and I was made to feel like it was an ugly thing. “We can jerk off together and you can jerk me off if you want, but don’t try to kiss me”. Everything that I had previously believed about gay men was coming true. We’re all a bunch of faggots that don’t deserve love. We only deserve back corner blow jobs and relationships with guys that have long time girlfriends. What a shame.
I’m 28 now and I’ve just walked out of a 5 year relationship. While I’ve not learned much more about gay sex (still an intercourse virgin at 28 ya’ll), I’ve learned how honest and real a gay relationship can be. I will always love my Paul and I will always look at my relationship with him as something that is…was…always will be…a completely necessary step in my growth process. It IS possible to love a gay man and have a literal and logistical relationship.
If it weren’t for my friend Kelly, I probably never would have come out. We were sitting at Nancy’s Coffee Shop one day, in Crossgates Mall, and she told me that she was a lesbian. I sipped my hot chocolate (never was one for coffee) and basically saw my life flash before my eyes. Here was a 17 year old girl telling me that she was strong enough to be a lesbian, yet I was a 20 year old guy believing that I would eventually find the right girl.
I thought about what she said and I did the only natural thing. I went back to college and told the only girl I’ve ever been truly in love with that I was gay.
That was a fun day for Miss Rita and me.
Rita is essentially the first girl I ever came out to and Rita is the first girl that I ever struggled through it with. Within days I came out to Kelly as well and my history just kind of repeats itself after that.
Why is it that gay men can admit they’re homosexual, yet they can’t admit they’re gay? Why is it that I joke with my straight friends about feminine guys, yet I turn around and flame out myself? Why is it that I can’t look at any videotapes from when I was younger, because I’m embarrassed of my true self?
National Coming Out Day is one of the FEW days of the year when I’m actually proud of who I am. I walk around and think…I’m gay and I’m fucking happy with it. And you know why? Because I get a “holiday”, that no one recognizes, but still exists, and makes me feel like a real live, respectable, human being.
So I say to you.
Coming out of the closet is an activity that I do on a daily basis. I question my own “kind”, I put on the masculine voice, I pretend that I don’t have an affinity to Broadway musical soundtracks.
But on October 11th, I rush immediately home to work on a post that will remind me why I’m happy being Joe. Why I’m happy being gay.
This is my destiny. And I’ve chosen to accept the painful journey that goes along with it.
Monday, October 10, 2005
A Weekend Ending in Mosquito
I couldn’t be more tired today. I think all of that bitching and moaning I did last week took every bit of energy out of me. I took a nap during my lunch break today and I swear, when my alarm went off, I pulled out of a literal coma. The year had changed and my hair and fingernails had grown down to the floor. But unfortunately, I still had my job, so I had to come back to my desk and deal with people who’ve waited until the VERY last minute to get their tickets for the High Holidays. I mean, COME ON people. Did you need me to bang on your door to personally hand you a ticket? Sheesh.
This weekend I spent some time getting my shit back together. I hung out with my friend Kelly for a while on Friday and then spent some time playing cards with my brother online. Since he moved back to the states, we’ve spent many hours playing hearts and spades and our newest obsession, Texas Hold’em. It’s SO nice to finally have him back in my life on a daily basis. Well, at least for now. He’s proposing to his girlfriend this weekend when he visits NYC. So, I’m very glad to have my brother back in the states, but I’m also “glad” to have his girlfriend/fiancé back in the states as well. Ay yi mother fucking yi.
Last night I’m lying in bed, trying to fall asleep, when all of a sudden my arm starts itching. I scratch the fuck out of it and suddenly these welts appear on my arm. I immediately jump out of bed and flip on the light. Paul is laying there next to me and he’s like “WTF are you doing”? I explain that something is feasting on my arms and Paul is like “Impossible! It’s probably your dirty body pillow. You should get rid of that thing right away”. I started to imagine tons of bugs running throughout the pillow, so I immediately got up and threw it in the huge garbage bin on our floor.
Relieved that I got rid of my dirty bug pillow, I got back in bed and settled in for sleep. Ten minutes later and a huge welt appears on my face. FURY filled my eyes as I jumped out of bed and flipped the light on again. “It’s not my ‘dirty body pillow'"!, I screamed to Drew. “Something is biting my face off now!” I show him all of the bites on my half naked body and he gasps. “What is going on?!?” he offers.
I immediately jump on top of the bed and begin scouring the wall for what I know is a mosquito of doom. I stared at the wall for minutes on top of minutes on top of minutes. Suddenly I found that little bastard staring at me with his beady little eyes. I began jumping around the bed in my boxers slapping my hand against the wall. He repeatedly flew away and I got increasingly more pissed off. Eventually I screamed “I HATE YOU FUCKING MOSQUITO!”
As though I was in Kung Fu Hustle and possessed the “Lion’s Roar”, the mosquito came to a halt right in front of my face – totally petrified from my screams.
SMACK!
Blood went everywhere. My blood.
And I heaved a huge sigh of relief. Fucking dumb mother fucking mosquito.
Paul stared at me as though I was a complete lunatic. I smiled, turned the lights off and climbed back into bed. Not saying anotherr word.
And that is the biggest story I have to share with you today.
Don’t you hate mosquitoes?
I couldn’t be more tired today. I think all of that bitching and moaning I did last week took every bit of energy out of me. I took a nap during my lunch break today and I swear, when my alarm went off, I pulled out of a literal coma. The year had changed and my hair and fingernails had grown down to the floor. But unfortunately, I still had my job, so I had to come back to my desk and deal with people who’ve waited until the VERY last minute to get their tickets for the High Holidays. I mean, COME ON people. Did you need me to bang on your door to personally hand you a ticket? Sheesh.
This weekend I spent some time getting my shit back together. I hung out with my friend Kelly for a while on Friday and then spent some time playing cards with my brother online. Since he moved back to the states, we’ve spent many hours playing hearts and spades and our newest obsession, Texas Hold’em. It’s SO nice to finally have him back in my life on a daily basis. Well, at least for now. He’s proposing to his girlfriend this weekend when he visits NYC. So, I’m very glad to have my brother back in the states, but I’m also “glad” to have his girlfriend/fiancé back in the states as well. Ay yi mother fucking yi.
Last night I’m lying in bed, trying to fall asleep, when all of a sudden my arm starts itching. I scratch the fuck out of it and suddenly these welts appear on my arm. I immediately jump out of bed and flip on the light. Paul is laying there next to me and he’s like “WTF are you doing”? I explain that something is feasting on my arms and Paul is like “Impossible! It’s probably your dirty body pillow. You should get rid of that thing right away”. I started to imagine tons of bugs running throughout the pillow, so I immediately got up and threw it in the huge garbage bin on our floor.
Relieved that I got rid of my dirty bug pillow, I got back in bed and settled in for sleep. Ten minutes later and a huge welt appears on my face. FURY filled my eyes as I jumped out of bed and flipped the light on again. “It’s not my ‘dirty body pillow'"!, I screamed to Drew. “Something is biting my face off now!” I show him all of the bites on my half naked body and he gasps. “What is going on?!?” he offers.
I immediately jump on top of the bed and begin scouring the wall for what I know is a mosquito of doom. I stared at the wall for minutes on top of minutes on top of minutes. Suddenly I found that little bastard staring at me with his beady little eyes. I began jumping around the bed in my boxers slapping my hand against the wall. He repeatedly flew away and I got increasingly more pissed off. Eventually I screamed “I HATE YOU FUCKING MOSQUITO!”
As though I was in Kung Fu Hustle and possessed the “Lion’s Roar”, the mosquito came to a halt right in front of my face – totally petrified from my screams.
SMACK!
Blood went everywhere. My blood.
And I heaved a huge sigh of relief. Fucking dumb mother fucking mosquito.
Paul stared at me as though I was a complete lunatic. I smiled, turned the lights off and climbed back into bed. Not saying anotherr word.
And that is the biggest story I have to share with you today.
Don’t you hate mosquitoes?
Saturday, October 08, 2005
Summation
So as you can tell, I've had a pretty fucking horrible week.
I think this is the first time that I've ever actually lashed out in my journal. Considering that it's super late on Friday night and I'm "super" drunk, I've decided to address this issue.
Listen y'all...there are many sides to Joe CuttheShit. Usually in my journal I'm the guy who's cracking jokes or lamenting my life, but you've never seen me angry. With everything that I had going on in my personal life this week, I figured I'd test this journal to see how honest and open I could be.
Test your own journal? That makes no sense!
But yes it does.
My readership has been around forever and they expect a certain kind of Joe. But when it comes down to it, there is a side to me that only my true friends have seen. A side to me that truly IS depressed and angry. A side to me that is lonely and frustrated. A side to me that wants to give up.
This week I felt as though I was losing everyone important to me. There wasn't a moment when I didn't doubt every friendship in my inner circle. Ari? Doubted it. Kelly, doubted it. Rita? Doubted it. Mariah...fucking doubted it. I was so scared of losing everyone that I doubted everyone. Everyone everyone.
Want to know why I doubted everyone?
Because I'm scared. I'm scared to be me and I'm scared to move forward.
As I've mentioned, I've broken up with my boyfriend and it's left me feeling incredibly vulnerable. 5 and a half years everyone. I can't even explain how devastating it all is.
But I can tell you that my tears express themselves through yelling. It's much easier for me to scream than it is for me to cry. I've had enough of the crying.
A year ago I said that I was going to close this journal and start one where I could be myself.
Well guess what?
I've decided not to start a new journal. I've decided to start this journal over. It's time for me to be an asshole. It's time for me to be honest. It's TIME for me to be who Joe really is.
All I can hope is that those of you who were offended by me this week will try to understand where I'm coming from. And most importantly, I hope that each and every one of you will make the effort to get to know this aspect of my personality.
It's not all good looks and funny jokes.
When I say that I'm sad...I'm not fucking kidding. When I say that I'm angry...again, I'm not kidding.
This journal has taken a detour.
You going to follow me on this journey?
Or has it been about you all along?
So as you can tell, I've had a pretty fucking horrible week.
I think this is the first time that I've ever actually lashed out in my journal. Considering that it's super late on Friday night and I'm "super" drunk, I've decided to address this issue.
Listen y'all...there are many sides to Joe CuttheShit. Usually in my journal I'm the guy who's cracking jokes or lamenting my life, but you've never seen me angry. With everything that I had going on in my personal life this week, I figured I'd test this journal to see how honest and open I could be.
Test your own journal? That makes no sense!
But yes it does.
My readership has been around forever and they expect a certain kind of Joe. But when it comes down to it, there is a side to me that only my true friends have seen. A side to me that truly IS depressed and angry. A side to me that is lonely and frustrated. A side to me that wants to give up.
This week I felt as though I was losing everyone important to me. There wasn't a moment when I didn't doubt every friendship in my inner circle. Ari? Doubted it. Kelly, doubted it. Rita? Doubted it. Mariah...fucking doubted it. I was so scared of losing everyone that I doubted everyone. Everyone everyone.
Want to know why I doubted everyone?
Because I'm scared. I'm scared to be me and I'm scared to move forward.
As I've mentioned, I've broken up with my boyfriend and it's left me feeling incredibly vulnerable. 5 and a half years everyone. I can't even explain how devastating it all is.
But I can tell you that my tears express themselves through yelling. It's much easier for me to scream than it is for me to cry. I've had enough of the crying.
A year ago I said that I was going to close this journal and start one where I could be myself.
Well guess what?
I've decided not to start a new journal. I've decided to start this journal over. It's time for me to be an asshole. It's time for me to be honest. It's TIME for me to be who Joe really is.
All I can hope is that those of you who were offended by me this week will try to understand where I'm coming from. And most importantly, I hope that each and every one of you will make the effort to get to know this aspect of my personality.
It's not all good looks and funny jokes.
When I say that I'm sad...I'm not fucking kidding. When I say that I'm angry...again, I'm not kidding.
This journal has taken a detour.
You going to follow me on this journey?
Or has it been about you all along?
Friday, October 07, 2005
Update
I just talked to Mariah for a while. We both expressed our anger and frustration and have resolved many of our issues. I can't explain how much better I feel right now. The stomach ache of hurt has finally dissipated.
God...I really lose my shit when my best friends and I are fighting.
I've felt really fragile over the last couple of days. Now that Mariah and I are working towards repairing the damage, I can feel my strength coming back.
And a smile is even making it's way across my lips.
I just talked to Mariah for a while. We both expressed our anger and frustration and have resolved many of our issues. I can't explain how much better I feel right now. The stomach ache of hurt has finally dissipated.
God...I really lose my shit when my best friends and I are fighting.
I've felt really fragile over the last couple of days. Now that Mariah and I are working towards repairing the damage, I can feel my strength coming back.
And a smile is even making it's way across my lips.
The Morning After
Don’t you hate it when you go to bed angry and wake up feeling just as pissed off? Once in a while a night of sleep will cause my fury to dissipate and more likely than not, turn into sadness. But when my eyes opened this morning, I immediately sat up, reached for my set of knives and started carving out voodoo dolls with which to torture the people in my life that are driving me up the wall. I haven’t been this angry and hurt in a long time.
I hung out with my friend Kelly last night and for a couple of hours, I felt so much better about the current situations in my life. We laughed and shared stories and it felt so warm and comfortable being with someone that is not only a close friend, but a good one as well. I was nice and buzzed and ran home to watch my favorite Thursday night line up of television shows. I walked in the door to find Paul taking mental notes on Survivor and I immediately jumped into bed with him, happy as a pig in shit.
Within 20 minutes, we got into a full blown argument about my friend Mariah and the night plunged downhill after that. Mariah said some FUCKED UP shit to me the other day and the last thing that I wanted to hear was that Paul agreed with her in any way. While Paul and I have been struggling to maintain a friendship since our break-up (yes, you read that right…break-up), the one thing I could never doubt was my level of trust in him. Then last night, he broke that big time and sent my world spiraling into a pile of horseshit. I grabbed my pillows and blanket and made myself comfortable on the couch, which is where I’ve basically been living for the past week.
Why am I so fucking angry? Why do I keep calling Mariah to get her on the phone to confront these issues? She’s ignoring me to the point of obnoxiousness and even more irritatingly, basking in a level of immaturity that I thought was only reserved for high school students. I really need to let this go. It’s not as though she’s been a source of support to me over the past couple of months, so why the fuck do I care that we’re not speaking?
DEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP BREATH.
Today is a new day and it’s the weekend. I have plans and I’m seeing people that I care about and that care about me. I REALLY need to put all of this out of my mind and just move forward. It’s total bullshit for me to sit here and to become stunted in my personal growth just because some one that claims they love me can’t stop unintentionally hurting me.
I’m officially laying this entire situation to rest. Feeling like this is just not worth it...for anyone. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt close to Mariah and considering that, it makes no sense for me to allow her to affect me so deeply. If you’re not a part of my life, then why are you a part of my pain? God, I’ve been stupid to get so worked up over all of this.
Next week really need to be a lot less stressful. My therapist’s head is going to explode when I see her on Monday. She’s going to be all “What has happened to you?!?!” And I’m just going to sit there, smoke coming out of my ears. She’ll throw a bucket of water over my head and I’ll finally wake up from this anger induced haze.
Now…time to get a bagel, talk to some friends and get ready for a weekend that couldn’t possibly be worse than this week was.
Don’t you hate it when you go to bed angry and wake up feeling just as pissed off? Once in a while a night of sleep will cause my fury to dissipate and more likely than not, turn into sadness. But when my eyes opened this morning, I immediately sat up, reached for my set of knives and started carving out voodoo dolls with which to torture the people in my life that are driving me up the wall. I haven’t been this angry and hurt in a long time.
I hung out with my friend Kelly last night and for a couple of hours, I felt so much better about the current situations in my life. We laughed and shared stories and it felt so warm and comfortable being with someone that is not only a close friend, but a good one as well. I was nice and buzzed and ran home to watch my favorite Thursday night line up of television shows. I walked in the door to find Paul taking mental notes on Survivor and I immediately jumped into bed with him, happy as a pig in shit.
Within 20 minutes, we got into a full blown argument about my friend Mariah and the night plunged downhill after that. Mariah said some FUCKED UP shit to me the other day and the last thing that I wanted to hear was that Paul agreed with her in any way. While Paul and I have been struggling to maintain a friendship since our break-up (yes, you read that right…break-up), the one thing I could never doubt was my level of trust in him. Then last night, he broke that big time and sent my world spiraling into a pile of horseshit. I grabbed my pillows and blanket and made myself comfortable on the couch, which is where I’ve basically been living for the past week.
Why am I so fucking angry? Why do I keep calling Mariah to get her on the phone to confront these issues? She’s ignoring me to the point of obnoxiousness and even more irritatingly, basking in a level of immaturity that I thought was only reserved for high school students. I really need to let this go. It’s not as though she’s been a source of support to me over the past couple of months, so why the fuck do I care that we’re not speaking?
DEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP BREATH.
Today is a new day and it’s the weekend. I have plans and I’m seeing people that I care about and that care about me. I REALLY need to put all of this out of my mind and just move forward. It’s total bullshit for me to sit here and to become stunted in my personal growth just because some one that claims they love me can’t stop unintentionally hurting me.
I’m officially laying this entire situation to rest. Feeling like this is just not worth it...for anyone. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt close to Mariah and considering that, it makes no sense for me to allow her to affect me so deeply. If you’re not a part of my life, then why are you a part of my pain? God, I’ve been stupid to get so worked up over all of this.
Next week really need to be a lot less stressful. My therapist’s head is going to explode when I see her on Monday. She’s going to be all “What has happened to you?!?!” And I’m just going to sit there, smoke coming out of my ears. She’ll throw a bucket of water over my head and I’ll finally wake up from this anger induced haze.
Now…time to get a bagel, talk to some friends and get ready for a weekend that couldn’t possibly be worse than this week was.
Thursday, October 06, 2005
You Want Truth? Here’s the Fucking Truth.
Joe Uncut. Yeah? Is that what you want? You want me to speak the way I feel? You want me to be as honest as I pretend to be? Well, fine. You’ve pushed me to the point at which I feel backed in the corner. To the point where I don’t feel figuratively alone, I feel fucking…alone.
Here it is.
This journal.
While I love having a readership…while I love having “friends” online…
How dare any of you ever leave me a comment judging me or telling me what I “should do”? How dare I take it so personally when someone like “Dawn” leaves me a comment telling me that my biggest issue with my brother and Mariah getting married is the fact that I’m “jealous”. Who the fuck are you? And how FUCKING pathetic do you have to be to comment on someone’s vulnerable post with something as BASE as “you’re jealous” and “need to find YOUR lifelong partner”. I don’t care who you are or what the fuck you represent…
As a human being, I would NEVER read a post like that and toss off a comment that is so fucking insensitive and rude. And you know what? Maybe that comment isn’t the big deal that it was to me…but maybe that comment is representative of the dozens of comments I get where people tell me that they know me better than I know myself. FUCK YOU. This is my fucking journal and how dare YOU tell ME where to go?
Go away. My sitemeter won’t bleed when you find something more productive to do.
My friends.
My fucking friends.
In no way am I suffering for friends. I’ve got a million of them. Some that I actually like in real life. And some that I would consider very close people that are detrimental to my existence. The reason these people are “detrimental” is because I need them and I trust them. In a city like NEW YORK, you NEED people you can trust. I’ve hand selected them and it SHAKES MY SHIT when I realize that I may have made some poor choices.
You don’t put in the time with me, yet you have no problem telling me that every choice I make is the wrong one. You don’t call me, yet when we finally do talk, you tell me that I’m not only abusing drugs, I’m abusing the people around me. FUCK. YOU.
I’ve spent the last 28 years trying to make people like me. And when I do ANYTHING that ruffles feathers, I spend weeks beating myself up about it. How dare I EVER have an opinion…because I would be mortified if you ever walked away from our conversation with anything, but confidence. Why should I have to WAIT for you to ask me for advice? You don’t when it comes to MY life.
I’m so angry right now.
Obviously.
But mostly, I’m disappointed.
I’m disappointed, because I’ve trusted all of you… ALL of you…with aspects of my life and you have taken the liberty to use it against me.
I know there are those of you out there that feel like you’ve done me right…and you know what? You have.
If you’re reading this and you DOUBT whether or not you have been a good friend to me…well then guess what? This journal entry is for you.
To those that I’ve trusted that have consistently shown me love…to those of you that have looked outside of yourself for even a minute…to those of you that I’ve counted on…
Thank you.
But to the rest of you.
To the world…
Say one more thing. Push me one more time. Prove to me that humanity is full of bullshit…and I swear. I swear to God above…
This Joe CuttheShit that cares SO much about everyone else is finally going to blow. And he’s going to fight back for once. He’s going to make sure that he hurts you as much or more than you’ve hurt him.
I’m tired of being a fucking pushover. You got something to say? Then you fucking say it. And let’s rock.
Or you walk away.
Cuz really…do think you know me enough to push me over this line? Do you?
It’s a risk I encourage you to leave behind.
Joe Uncut. Yeah? Is that what you want? You want me to speak the way I feel? You want me to be as honest as I pretend to be? Well, fine. You’ve pushed me to the point at which I feel backed in the corner. To the point where I don’t feel figuratively alone, I feel fucking…alone.
Here it is.
This journal.
While I love having a readership…while I love having “friends” online…
How dare any of you ever leave me a comment judging me or telling me what I “should do”? How dare I take it so personally when someone like “Dawn” leaves me a comment telling me that my biggest issue with my brother and Mariah getting married is the fact that I’m “jealous”. Who the fuck are you? And how FUCKING pathetic do you have to be to comment on someone’s vulnerable post with something as BASE as “you’re jealous” and “need to find YOUR lifelong partner”. I don’t care who you are or what the fuck you represent…
As a human being, I would NEVER read a post like that and toss off a comment that is so fucking insensitive and rude. And you know what? Maybe that comment isn’t the big deal that it was to me…but maybe that comment is representative of the dozens of comments I get where people tell me that they know me better than I know myself. FUCK YOU. This is my fucking journal and how dare YOU tell ME where to go?
Go away. My sitemeter won’t bleed when you find something more productive to do.
My friends.
My fucking friends.
In no way am I suffering for friends. I’ve got a million of them. Some that I actually like in real life. And some that I would consider very close people that are detrimental to my existence. The reason these people are “detrimental” is because I need them and I trust them. In a city like NEW YORK, you NEED people you can trust. I’ve hand selected them and it SHAKES MY SHIT when I realize that I may have made some poor choices.
You don’t put in the time with me, yet you have no problem telling me that every choice I make is the wrong one. You don’t call me, yet when we finally do talk, you tell me that I’m not only abusing drugs, I’m abusing the people around me. FUCK. YOU.
I’ve spent the last 28 years trying to make people like me. And when I do ANYTHING that ruffles feathers, I spend weeks beating myself up about it. How dare I EVER have an opinion…because I would be mortified if you ever walked away from our conversation with anything, but confidence. Why should I have to WAIT for you to ask me for advice? You don’t when it comes to MY life.
I’m so angry right now.
Obviously.
But mostly, I’m disappointed.
I’m disappointed, because I’ve trusted all of you… ALL of you…with aspects of my life and you have taken the liberty to use it against me.
I know there are those of you out there that feel like you’ve done me right…and you know what? You have.
If you’re reading this and you DOUBT whether or not you have been a good friend to me…well then guess what? This journal entry is for you.
To those that I’ve trusted that have consistently shown me love…to those of you that have looked outside of yourself for even a minute…to those of you that I’ve counted on…
Thank you.
But to the rest of you.
To the world…
Say one more thing. Push me one more time. Prove to me that humanity is full of bullshit…and I swear. I swear to God above…
This Joe CuttheShit that cares SO much about everyone else is finally going to blow. And he’s going to fight back for once. He’s going to make sure that he hurts you as much or more than you’ve hurt him.
I’m tired of being a fucking pushover. You got something to say? Then you fucking say it. And let’s rock.
Or you walk away.
Cuz really…do think you know me enough to push me over this line? Do you?
It’s a risk I encourage you to leave behind.
Wednesday, October 05, 2005
Happy New Year For Who?
Have you ever felt like the rug was literally pulled out from under you?
When I left work yesterday, I was on top of the world. I had two and a half days off to do whatever I wanted. Most likely: party, see some friends, play cards online, watch movies, whatever. It was supposed to be like having a weekend in the middle of the week! I was super psyched.
Hours later and I’m hanging out with Paul, drinking a vodka/red bull and loving my life. I downloaded music, made some phatty new mixes and spent a good twenty minutes dancing my ass off to Missy Elliot’s Lose Control anthem. I just love that Ciara.
Then Paul and I had one of the biggest fights of our relationship. It was ugly and sad and left me shaking until 5am when I finally went to bed on the couch.
Today.
Today I woke up at 3pm to my friend Mariah calling. She explained that she would be arriving at my apartment earlier than expected. I had to wipe the crust out of my eyes and shower and get my act together. Paul and I had a sincere apology-fest and before I could put all of that aside, the doorbell rang and in walked Mariah.
Mariah is one of my best friends on this planet. That being said, I haven’t seen her face since the middle of August. You wouldn’t think that we live down the street from each other. In fact, based on the amount of times we’ve hung out over the last 6 months, you wouldn’t think that we lived in the same city.
So we sit and we chat for a couple of minutes. Then it comes. The moment when she says “I have something huge to tell you”.
The last time she said this to me was earlier this year when she dropped the bomb that she had her girlfriend’s name tattooed on her hip. Since its 2005, I don’t need to get into the fact that we don’t tattoo names on hips (no matter what and no matter who), but for Mariah, this was a logical and necessary step in her relationship. It took me a long time to fully understand why, but I eventually got it. Or accepted it. Either or.
So imagine my surprise when she says to me “Jessica (her girlfriend of two years) has proposed to me and I’ve said ‘yes’”.
I
sat there
like
this.
“You’re getting what?” I said.
“We’re getting married and I know for a fact that she’s the girl I want to spend the rest of my life with.”
I
sat there
like
this.
“Ok, but I was under the impression that things weren’t going that well…”
“What do you mean? We’ve never been better.”
“But…”
But.
I had to make the decision to keep my opinion to myself, because it’s not my life and it’s not my choice. If Mariah wants…or…feels fulfilled by marrying Jessica, then how dare I have any sort of opinion? I must support, as best friends do.
So that’s what I did.
Now…within hours, my brother calls me to tell me that he is proposing to his girlfriend, Nina. Not only that, but in the next couple of weekends, he has asked me to help him put it all together. Obviously, I don’t want my little brother getting married right now. I’m two years older and I’m in the process of walking away from a 6-year relationship. My little brother (who’s been in this relationship for 2 years) is going to get married too?
Ok.
I called my friend Rita. I called my friend Kelly. I called my friend Angie. I wanted SOMEONE to talk to…someone to cry to.
Yet, I guess it was too late, cuz no one called back.
So I sat here and I just cried. I cried and I cried and Paul came home from work and (will wonders never cease?) he held me while I cried some more.
I can’t fully explain why I’m so upset. I just know that I am.
So much has changed in my life and with the people that I would consider my “lifelines”.
All of a sudden, I’m not the star of the movie anymore. My closest friends are moving on with their lives. But I feel that they’re moving on without me. I feel that they’re no longer my closest friends.
Cuz…
Why didn’t I see this coming? Why didn’t I know that Jessica would propose to Mariah? Why didn’t I believe that my brother and his girlfriend were next?
WHY am I so fucking sad about it all?
Maybe none of this makes sense. Or maybe it ALL makes sense.
I don’t know.
All I do know is that after I wiped my tears and blew my nose and put Paul to bed, I thought “Who can I talk to that won’t criticize me, but will also listen with an open ear?”
And you know where I found the answer?
This journal.
Have you ever felt like the rug was literally pulled out from under you?
When I left work yesterday, I was on top of the world. I had two and a half days off to do whatever I wanted. Most likely: party, see some friends, play cards online, watch movies, whatever. It was supposed to be like having a weekend in the middle of the week! I was super psyched.
Hours later and I’m hanging out with Paul, drinking a vodka/red bull and loving my life. I downloaded music, made some phatty new mixes and spent a good twenty minutes dancing my ass off to Missy Elliot’s Lose Control anthem. I just love that Ciara.
Then Paul and I had one of the biggest fights of our relationship. It was ugly and sad and left me shaking until 5am when I finally went to bed on the couch.
Today.
Today I woke up at 3pm to my friend Mariah calling. She explained that she would be arriving at my apartment earlier than expected. I had to wipe the crust out of my eyes and shower and get my act together. Paul and I had a sincere apology-fest and before I could put all of that aside, the doorbell rang and in walked Mariah.
Mariah is one of my best friends on this planet. That being said, I haven’t seen her face since the middle of August. You wouldn’t think that we live down the street from each other. In fact, based on the amount of times we’ve hung out over the last 6 months, you wouldn’t think that we lived in the same city.
So we sit and we chat for a couple of minutes. Then it comes. The moment when she says “I have something huge to tell you”.
The last time she said this to me was earlier this year when she dropped the bomb that she had her girlfriend’s name tattooed on her hip. Since its 2005, I don’t need to get into the fact that we don’t tattoo names on hips (no matter what and no matter who), but for Mariah, this was a logical and necessary step in her relationship. It took me a long time to fully understand why, but I eventually got it. Or accepted it. Either or.
So imagine my surprise when she says to me “Jessica (her girlfriend of two years) has proposed to me and I’ve said ‘yes’”.
I
sat there
like
this.
“You’re getting what?” I said.
“We’re getting married and I know for a fact that she’s the girl I want to spend the rest of my life with.”
I
sat there
like
this.
“Ok, but I was under the impression that things weren’t going that well…”
“What do you mean? We’ve never been better.”
“But…”
But.
I had to make the decision to keep my opinion to myself, because it’s not my life and it’s not my choice. If Mariah wants…or…feels fulfilled by marrying Jessica, then how dare I have any sort of opinion? I must support, as best friends do.
So that’s what I did.
Now…within hours, my brother calls me to tell me that he is proposing to his girlfriend, Nina. Not only that, but in the next couple of weekends, he has asked me to help him put it all together. Obviously, I don’t want my little brother getting married right now. I’m two years older and I’m in the process of walking away from a 6-year relationship. My little brother (who’s been in this relationship for 2 years) is going to get married too?
Ok.
I called my friend Rita. I called my friend Kelly. I called my friend Angie. I wanted SOMEONE to talk to…someone to cry to.
Yet, I guess it was too late, cuz no one called back.
So I sat here and I just cried. I cried and I cried and Paul came home from work and (will wonders never cease?) he held me while I cried some more.
I can’t fully explain why I’m so upset. I just know that I am.
So much has changed in my life and with the people that I would consider my “lifelines”.
All of a sudden, I’m not the star of the movie anymore. My closest friends are moving on with their lives. But I feel that they’re moving on without me. I feel that they’re no longer my closest friends.
Cuz…
Why didn’t I see this coming? Why didn’t I know that Jessica would propose to Mariah? Why didn’t I believe that my brother and his girlfriend were next?
WHY am I so fucking sad about it all?
Maybe none of this makes sense. Or maybe it ALL makes sense.
I don’t know.
All I do know is that after I wiped my tears and blew my nose and put Paul to bed, I thought “Who can I talk to that won’t criticize me, but will also listen with an open ear?”
And you know where I found the answer?
This journal.
