Friday, January 06, 2006
Happy New Year to Everyone!
Well, I’m finally back. I was back in Albany for over a week and then when I finally got back to work, I was so swamped with shit to do that journal writing was just impossible. But I’m catching up and before I even get started with that shit today, I figured I’d better post. Otherwise, I’m sure you would have all thought that I ended up in a Blockbuster movie, married a prince, and moved to some remote location in the Caribbean. Or that I was on a major drug binge. Whichever.
My Christmas was FANTASTIC this year. I got to spend a whole week with my brother and we played endless amounts of videogames, smoked endless amounts of pot, and stayed up until at least 3am every night, only to wake up by 9am to hang out with my mom, who had taken the week off from work. By the time I got back to NYC, I was so ready for a napski.
As usual, my parents went WAY overboard with the gift giving this year. Clothes and movies and cologne and games and so many things that by the last present, I was so embarrassed that at 28 years old, my parents are STILL taking care of me as though I was a tiny, slobbering, baby. But a happy baby nonetheless.
Speaking of babies, my big gift this year was a PUPPY! The day I got home my parents asked me to bring in some shit from the shed in the backyard. When I opened the door, I was greeted by the smallest, most beautiful, miniature wire-haired dachshund that you’ve ever seen! He was wagging his tail and immediately crawled into my arms. It was an incredibly surreal moment and I couldn’t have been more shocked or more awed. Cuz you know…shock and awe.
I named the puppy Tyler (pictures forthcoming), a name which I had picked out in my head months ago. I figure, if I don’t ever end up having a baby, I wanted to name my dog with one of my favorite names. Plus, Tyler can be shortened to “Ty”, “Ty Ty”, “Ty-Guy”, “Monster Mash”. You understand.
I’ve now had the pups for exactly two weeks. He’s adjusting to NYC life and he’s the cutest little dog I’ve ever met. In particular, he has this thing where he jumps around like a bunny. He hops and hops, cuz his legs are so little, they won’t do what his mind wants them to do. So he hops and I laugh and then I feed him carrots and call him little bunny foo foo. Ok, no I don’t. My dog is no foo foo. He’s a scrapper and he will not turn out to be gay, no matter what he was pre-destined to be. Hypocritical, no?
I feel like my parents probably did when at the age of 8 I asked for a baton for Christmas. I wanted to be a cheerleader and a gymnast so badly. Scary thing is, they totally bought me the baton and then were actually surprised when I came out of the closet at age 21. Harrumph.
Tyler and I do everything together. Mostly because he won’t leave my side for even a second when I’m home. He has to sit at my feet while I take a shit, eat his puppy chow with one eye looking in my direction, takes a piss on his doggie pads but runs after me while pissing if I happen to get up to do something. It’s pretty fucking adorable. I’ve turned into this father who is surprisingly good at disciplining and loving all at the same time. When I tell him “No bite, Tyler”, or “No barking Tyler”, he cocks his head to the side, gives up one more yelp, and then rolls on his back. He’ll get it eventually, but it’s very encouraging that he recognizes that I’m the boss. And he loves me regardless.
He’s quite a special guy.
In other news, I had a kick ass New Year’s. I spent the day with my parents, playing the new Madden football game, making CD mixes, and taking naps. Then around 10pm, I went to a killer party in the coolest NYC apartment around. There were tons of people there and I actually developed a crush on my first black man ever! He was beautiful and masculine and was interested in me too – that is until he saw me dancing with my friends. I saw the look of “My GOD that is kid is so white” cross his face and I immediately ran from the room. He hung around at the end of the party and I swear he was waiting for me to approach him, but my insecurity got the best of me and I let well enough alone. Been kicking myself about that ever since.
The party went on for hours and I spent a good deal of it meeting new people and smoking joints on the terrace. Everyone around me, including myself, ended up getting completely trashed and I knew it was time to go home. I mentioned that to my friends and they said that they wanted to stay for another hour or so. Against my usually conservative judgment, I stayed too and watched as people started falling all over the DJ’s mixing board, against the food table, and down the 3 steps that led to the kitchen area. I was no better. I found a bottle of wine in the host’s fridge and I opened it. Yet, when I turned around to get a glass, I ended up knocking the bottle over and it poured all down the back of their stove. OOOOOOOOOOPS. I knew I should have gone home when I felt like it was time.
Other than that, the new people I met were great, but I kept finding myself offending them for no good reason. For example, there was this one girl wearing a mink coat or some shit. I went up to her and began nuzzling my face in her jacket. She turned around and smiled and I looked at her and said “In one pocket I had a nuzzle. In the other pocket I had a bucket of blood. You’re lucky I chose the nuzzle.” I laughed and laughed, because even drunk, fur is still disgusting. But she didn’t laugh and her face screwed up into this animal killer type face and I farted and left. As is expected, I did my best to avoid her for the rest of the night.
I finally returned to work on Tuesday and everyone was really excited to see me and to hear about the new puppy. For a couple of days, I felt like “Wow, I love this job and I really should just be happy with what I’ve got goin on here.” Now it’s Friday and I feel like “Wow, I’ve been at this job for almost 5 years and it’s time to do something else!” SNORES and VILLE.
I’m so glad it’s the weekend. Tonight I’m hanging out with my dear friend Angie and then I’m off to a party in the East Village. It should be a crazy and fun night and I’m very much looking forward to it. Tomorrow I have lunch plans, which may turn into dinner plans depending on how late I get to bed, and then on Sunday, I’m throwing a brunch for some of my gays that I haven’t seen in millenniums.
The new year has started off on the right foot for me and I wish there was some way that I could wrap up this good mood in a bottle and open it up again in a few weeks when I’m feeling low. More than anything, I want this to be the year when my life takes a major turn in a new direction – a direction that leads me down the path of a true career, a true sense of independence. Last year was my chance to get a grip on everything “Joe” and I think I did quite an excellent job. I’ve rid myself of almost every single boy I was casually dating and thankfully, I’ve rid myself of the guys that were totally oppressing, controlling, and condescending. It’s a new year and I finally feel like I’m living my own life – making my own mistakes, my own achievements, and counting on no one else but myself.
It feels super fucking liberating and super fucking great.
At the end of this month, I will have been writing in this journal for 4 years. I can’t even believe it myself. Other than my long term relationship, which came to a grinding halt in October, this has been the most committed I’ve ever been to anything. I’m really proud of the work I’ve done on these here pages. For awhile I felt trapped by my own website, but as I change, so does the content and format of this journal. It’s really wonderful to be able to look back at who I was back then and how far I’ve really come.
My New Year’s resolution this year: Be proud of myself, love myself, and treat myself with the utmost respect. It’s about time after all.
Well, I’m finally back. I was back in Albany for over a week and then when I finally got back to work, I was so swamped with shit to do that journal writing was just impossible. But I’m catching up and before I even get started with that shit today, I figured I’d better post. Otherwise, I’m sure you would have all thought that I ended up in a Blockbuster movie, married a prince, and moved to some remote location in the Caribbean. Or that I was on a major drug binge. Whichever.
My Christmas was FANTASTIC this year. I got to spend a whole week with my brother and we played endless amounts of videogames, smoked endless amounts of pot, and stayed up until at least 3am every night, only to wake up by 9am to hang out with my mom, who had taken the week off from work. By the time I got back to NYC, I was so ready for a napski.
As usual, my parents went WAY overboard with the gift giving this year. Clothes and movies and cologne and games and so many things that by the last present, I was so embarrassed that at 28 years old, my parents are STILL taking care of me as though I was a tiny, slobbering, baby. But a happy baby nonetheless.
Speaking of babies, my big gift this year was a PUPPY! The day I got home my parents asked me to bring in some shit from the shed in the backyard. When I opened the door, I was greeted by the smallest, most beautiful, miniature wire-haired dachshund that you’ve ever seen! He was wagging his tail and immediately crawled into my arms. It was an incredibly surreal moment and I couldn’t have been more shocked or more awed. Cuz you know…shock and awe.
I named the puppy Tyler (pictures forthcoming), a name which I had picked out in my head months ago. I figure, if I don’t ever end up having a baby, I wanted to name my dog with one of my favorite names. Plus, Tyler can be shortened to “Ty”, “Ty Ty”, “Ty-Guy”, “Monster Mash”. You understand.
I’ve now had the pups for exactly two weeks. He’s adjusting to NYC life and he’s the cutest little dog I’ve ever met. In particular, he has this thing where he jumps around like a bunny. He hops and hops, cuz his legs are so little, they won’t do what his mind wants them to do. So he hops and I laugh and then I feed him carrots and call him little bunny foo foo. Ok, no I don’t. My dog is no foo foo. He’s a scrapper and he will not turn out to be gay, no matter what he was pre-destined to be. Hypocritical, no?
I feel like my parents probably did when at the age of 8 I asked for a baton for Christmas. I wanted to be a cheerleader and a gymnast so badly. Scary thing is, they totally bought me the baton and then were actually surprised when I came out of the closet at age 21. Harrumph.
Tyler and I do everything together. Mostly because he won’t leave my side for even a second when I’m home. He has to sit at my feet while I take a shit, eat his puppy chow with one eye looking in my direction, takes a piss on his doggie pads but runs after me while pissing if I happen to get up to do something. It’s pretty fucking adorable. I’ve turned into this father who is surprisingly good at disciplining and loving all at the same time. When I tell him “No bite, Tyler”, or “No barking Tyler”, he cocks his head to the side, gives up one more yelp, and then rolls on his back. He’ll get it eventually, but it’s very encouraging that he recognizes that I’m the boss. And he loves me regardless.
He’s quite a special guy.
In other news, I had a kick ass New Year’s. I spent the day with my parents, playing the new Madden football game, making CD mixes, and taking naps. Then around 10pm, I went to a killer party in the coolest NYC apartment around. There were tons of people there and I actually developed a crush on my first black man ever! He was beautiful and masculine and was interested in me too – that is until he saw me dancing with my friends. I saw the look of “My GOD that is kid is so white” cross his face and I immediately ran from the room. He hung around at the end of the party and I swear he was waiting for me to approach him, but my insecurity got the best of me and I let well enough alone. Been kicking myself about that ever since.
The party went on for hours and I spent a good deal of it meeting new people and smoking joints on the terrace. Everyone around me, including myself, ended up getting completely trashed and I knew it was time to go home. I mentioned that to my friends and they said that they wanted to stay for another hour or so. Against my usually conservative judgment, I stayed too and watched as people started falling all over the DJ’s mixing board, against the food table, and down the 3 steps that led to the kitchen area. I was no better. I found a bottle of wine in the host’s fridge and I opened it. Yet, when I turned around to get a glass, I ended up knocking the bottle over and it poured all down the back of their stove. OOOOOOOOOOPS. I knew I should have gone home when I felt like it was time.
Other than that, the new people I met were great, but I kept finding myself offending them for no good reason. For example, there was this one girl wearing a mink coat or some shit. I went up to her and began nuzzling my face in her jacket. She turned around and smiled and I looked at her and said “In one pocket I had a nuzzle. In the other pocket I had a bucket of blood. You’re lucky I chose the nuzzle.” I laughed and laughed, because even drunk, fur is still disgusting. But she didn’t laugh and her face screwed up into this animal killer type face and I farted and left. As is expected, I did my best to avoid her for the rest of the night.
I finally returned to work on Tuesday and everyone was really excited to see me and to hear about the new puppy. For a couple of days, I felt like “Wow, I love this job and I really should just be happy with what I’ve got goin on here.” Now it’s Friday and I feel like “Wow, I’ve been at this job for almost 5 years and it’s time to do something else!” SNORES and VILLE.
I’m so glad it’s the weekend. Tonight I’m hanging out with my dear friend Angie and then I’m off to a party in the East Village. It should be a crazy and fun night and I’m very much looking forward to it. Tomorrow I have lunch plans, which may turn into dinner plans depending on how late I get to bed, and then on Sunday, I’m throwing a brunch for some of my gays that I haven’t seen in millenniums.
The new year has started off on the right foot for me and I wish there was some way that I could wrap up this good mood in a bottle and open it up again in a few weeks when I’m feeling low. More than anything, I want this to be the year when my life takes a major turn in a new direction – a direction that leads me down the path of a true career, a true sense of independence. Last year was my chance to get a grip on everything “Joe” and I think I did quite an excellent job. I’ve rid myself of almost every single boy I was casually dating and thankfully, I’ve rid myself of the guys that were totally oppressing, controlling, and condescending. It’s a new year and I finally feel like I’m living my own life – making my own mistakes, my own achievements, and counting on no one else but myself.
It feels super fucking liberating and super fucking great.
At the end of this month, I will have been writing in this journal for 4 years. I can’t even believe it myself. Other than my long term relationship, which came to a grinding halt in October, this has been the most committed I’ve ever been to anything. I’m really proud of the work I’ve done on these here pages. For awhile I felt trapped by my own website, but as I change, so does the content and format of this journal. It’s really wonderful to be able to look back at who I was back then and how far I’ve really come.
My New Year’s resolution this year: Be proud of myself, love myself, and treat myself with the utmost respect. It’s about time after all.
