Cut the Shit

Great Googly Moogly!

As you know, I come from a military family. My dad was in the ARMY reserves for like 28 years or some shit and my brother earned a Bronze Star during his year and a half stint in Iraq. As much as I can't STAND this current war we're in, it's impossible for me to feel anything but support, compassion, and concern for each and every soldier that has been deployed.

My very good blogging friend ROSIE has signed up to do a 24 hour blogathon with a bunch of other military wives. Rosie is one special lady and her cause is something that is MUCH needed. The blogathon is to benefit the Intrepid Fallen Heroes Fund. Quite amazing.

You can sponsor Rosie or one of the other teams participating in this event or you can simply just go over and read about it. Either or, I think that by taking some time out of your daily grind to look into this would be the least that any of us could do.

Please show your support. And if you do have an extra dollar to donate, that's even more powerful and would make this JOE very, very happy.

As a country, we must stick together and do whatever we can to make sure that these returning soldiers are cared for. Whether you believe in the war or not, none of these soldiers had a say in whether or not they would go and fight. They're doing their job. And might I say, a job that I could never do.

Please take a moment to follow the above links.

Thank you!

The Things

For the first time since the "Civil War", I came up with a title for this post before I even typed it. I NEVER do that. Mostly cuz when I was a budding writer I was told by some random teacher that a true author never titles their work until they finish the piece. "How else would they be able to let their creative mind fly?"
Uh...yeah. Snores. But I still abide by it to this day. I take the English language very seriously...those of you who know me personally know what I mean. And lastly, yes. When I write a post with a misspelled word or incorrect punctuation, it kills me. It guts my soul. Satisfied?

In any case, if you go to Google (of love) and type in "thing", this picture is the first to pop up under "Images". WTF? and also SNARF.

In any case, here are the aforementioned "things". BTW...if you go to Google (of love), make sure to type "thing" and not "thingS" cuz then it won't work out the way I said. And yeah. I just spent 25 or so sentences on this very topic.

Moving on...

Thing 1:

My issue from last week has since been resolved. In actuality, it was solved rather easily. Turns out that the work I did in the friendship prior really went a long way in making up for my mistake. I'm incredibly happy to say that since the "reckoning of 2006", this friend and I have gotten even closer. Strange, but true. Yes...YES! I'm a dramatic monster. I know that. But last week it was REALLY FUCKING BIG. And this week, it's...well...not so big. Thank you for caring about me tho. I totally plead emotional instability on this one.

Thing 2:

Member when I said that my whole weekend was going to be all about Nip/Tuck? Yeah, well, guess what guys? Season 2, Disc 4 showed up cracked in half. Netflix is a DREAM until this happens. No joke, here's what happened (and may go a long way to explaining Thing 1):

Joe opens the package. Joe doesn't feel good from the night before and woke up early to make some hot chocolate and watch the required five hours of Nip/Tizzle. Joe pulls the disc out and puts it in the player. The screen says "Cannot play disc". I laugh to myself and think "Oh yeah, I should probably clean this player out at some point". I pull the disc out to blow in the player (know that trick?) and realize that the disc is cracked in half.

I, involuntarily (sp? motherfuckers), said "No. NO. NONONONONONONONO!". Tyler looked at me with that cocked head of judgement and that's when I clenched both of my fists and gave myself a, let's say, cherry tomato, colored face. I let out a breath and realized, "Oh YEAH! It's NOT the end of the world! It's 11:30am, I'm hungover and depressed from the night before, I'll watch Next on MTV.

CLENCHED motherfucking FISTS.

Thing 3:

Very soon I will be doing a mad sick post on Paul and myself. It's been a LONG time since I've discussed my relationship and I think it's about time that I start doing it again. So much has happened. Back off.

Thing 4:

I want to say ONE thing about my birthday (notice that I say it was amazing, but never talked about it? Stop begging.).

I got many a gift on my birthday. I'm talking many and I'm talking a gift. But of all of the many and a gifts I got, there were two that stood out to me and continue to do so.

First...my friend Tessle, showed up to my 4th of July party and when pulled into my bedroom to discuss why I was upset with her, she responded by handing me a present. The gift was a hand painted (drawn? in any case ARTISTIC!) portrait of my eyes, lips and nose. I looked at it and did what any grateful person would do. I said "thank you" and "I love it" and I hung it on my wall with a literaly SWISH. I then proceeded to bitch about MY life and not focus on the gift for one more second. As though I never got it. And then I didn't make time nor pay attention to this person to the just degree, for the rest of the night. Classy, yes?

That night, once everyone had left and I was cleaning up, I came across that picture. I stood there looking at it and I thought. I imagined. I dissected. I gave it my absolute, undivided attention. I did what I should have done when it was given to me. A gift of this sensitivity comes around only so often. There hasn't been a day since where I've left my bedroom and not given it at least a moment of my time.

The second gift was something that I don't need to go into as much detail about, but was THE gift of the year. My friend Kelly gave me a hand-crafted wooden box with
a tiny lock on the front. She also gave me the FAT LADY HAPPY BIRTHDAY BALLOON from a couple of posts ago. I damn love that balloon and it STILL sings to the best of it's ability.

I thought the box was beautiful and was grateful to have a little locked container, all my own. A place to store my hidden treasures. (what am I 7?) But then I opened the box and what was inside made me start to cry.

I'm talkin CRY. KELLY and Paul were both there and they both were like "What's WRONG?" "ARE YOU OK?!"

Kelly...had taken the time to copy and paste (into Microsoft Word) every post in this journal -------since it's conception. That's FOUR years of posts and back in my heyday...I wrote everyday. Get it? Heyday...everyday?

Anyway...

She had the posts bound into book form and they rest inside my beautiful box.

WHO DOES THAT?! Who DOES that?

It STILL makes me teary to think about the thought and the work that went into that shit. I was (secretly) afrad that something would happen and I would lose all of this writing. That it would just be gone, cuz I don't "Back up". Even in sex.

But now...it's safe. I cried hard cuz it was a gift that made my life better. Smoother. Happier. Kelly is my best for this very reason. She knows me.

AND

Thing SNORES:

For some reason when I type at home, the cursor pauses every five fucking seconds. So i'm stop and startaskljdadfj, stop and start.

We're done for tonight. Blame it on my computer or Paris Hilton.

Love my Things.

A Weekend to Pull My Shit Together

Thank God it’s fucking Friday. After the week I’ve had, I could surely use a few days to relax and get my head in order. It hasn’t exactly been my most favorite week of the summer, as I’m sure you can imagine.

Things in my personal life are improving. I haven’t had the opportunity to sit and talk with the person I’ve hurt and I can only hope that when I see them next week that we can have an open and honest conversation about everything that’s happened. Having this conversation hang over my head is only making things more stressed than they need to be. Everything else in my life is going pretty well, which makes this whole issue just that much harder to deal with. I’ve never been someone to put off conversations like this. I just want to deal with it and try to move past it or realize that there is no moving past it and act accordingly. This limbo shit is enough to drive a person mad.

Since I’ve been kind of on edge this week, so many little things are pissing me off. For example, you know those pop ads that say things like “Do you like President Bush? Click yes or no and get a FREE* laptop!” For some reason, those pop up ads are really getting under my skin. I know its inconsequential, but come on. You KNOW you’re not going to get a free lap top, so why do you have to take the time out of what you’re doing to close the box? I almost screamed in frustration when it happened to me this morning. And that’s how I know that I’m living on the edge of a mental blow-out.

The few highlights of my week have been Big Brother: All Stars and Project Runway; mindless television that focuses my attention on something else. I realize that my life could be worse. I could be one of the idiots on these reality shows. Instead I’m just the idiot in my real life. Heh. Feh. Fuck.

I saw an episode of Sex in the City last night that struck a deep chord within me. In the episode, Carrie has cheated on Aidan (for the first time – oy) with Mr. Big. As she goes through her day, picking flowers, walking around the city, enjoying life, she keeps getting the mental picture of what she’s done to hurt Aidan and she literally cringes. That’s exactly how I felt this week. Whenever I was doing something fun or was in a good mood, I would get the mental flash of what I’ve done and I would stand there and literally cringe as well.

It’s crazy…I can’t seem to put this whole scenario out of my mind. I haven’t given myself the full 50 lashes yet, so I guess I believe that I deserve some more pain before I can move on and forgive myself. It’s not like I haven’t fucked up in my friendships before. It’s just that this time there is no reason or excuse as to why I did it. And the worst part is that I know if I wasn’t caught, I probably never would have owned up to my actions.

The only person I’ve talked to about this with has been my mom. She was as amazing as she has always been. My mom thinks that this mistake is not the end all/be all, and I know she’s probably right. However, she’s not the one that needs to forgive me. It felt good to open up to her and to have her remind me that I’ve been a good friend to this person for a very long time. “Your history will not be wiped away over one mistake. In fact it might be stronger because of it.” And maybe she’s right.

The one highlight of my weekend is that I’m going to spend five hours tomorrow watching the rest of Nip/Tuck. It’s got to be one of my favorite shows EVER to be on television. The storylines move so fast and I always find myself gasping and sobbing at least once during each episode. I can’t believe this show hasn’t won a shit load of performance Emmys. I mean, (of course) they SHOULD be nominated for the make-up and art direction, but there are performances on this show that leave me speechless. Joely Richardson, Dylan Walsh, and Julian McMahon are the show’s focus, but in particular, I’m in absolute love with Kelly Carlson who plays Kimber Henry (could she BE any more beautiful?) and also John Hensley who plays Matt McNamara. Their roles are clearly a lot of fun to play, but they find the absolute depth and soul to each line they deliver. I’m in awe of talent like theirs and jealous that they’ve been cast so perfectly as such multi-layered characters. I’m not one to get all FANatical over celebrities, but people like Kelly and John make me ache to be on screen. I want to work with each of them at some point, and dare I say, be their friends. Fine, and their lovers. Heh. I would do anything to be on this show. Even if it meant getting my dick chopped off and turned inside out. As a PLOT LINE you goofs!

Just looking forward to escaping for a few hours tomorrow. I’m going to turn my phone off, turn the TV on and forget all about the shit storm I brought upon myself.

I’m really hoping that Monday will bring about a brighter outlook.

Where I've Been and What I've Done

I haven't written much in here lately. I've wanted to, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. Truth is, over the years, this journal has become my concious; it's become a mirror of who I am. I write things in here that I don't want to admit to myself, but I find solace in admitting it to people I've never met. It's a strange psychological benefit of having your own little page in a very public environment.

Recently, I made a very major mistake with someone very close to me. A couple of months ago I made a decision to do something that I knew would destroy this person's trust and against all better judgement and personal reservations, a moment of desperation led me to act on this decision.

For a while it seemed as though there would be no consequences and I would only be forced to deal with the guilt. "Only". The guilt nearly destroyed every moment I spent with this person.

Over time I found myself treating this person like shit because I couldn't bear to look them in the face. When they treated me like the top of the totem pole, I turned around and made sure that they remembered their place on the bottom. I made a big mistake that snowballed into a dealbreaker.

In a round about way, my mistake was exposed. I stood in shock for a few minutes, then I wandered around the apartment trying to figure out a solution...or rather, a lie to get myself out of it. And then I sat down on the couch and just cried.

My choice was to come clean about everything.

I love the person that I hurt so much. I've worked very hard over the years to create an open and honest relationship between the two of us. I wanted nothing more than to be a positive influence on this person.

And then I made the decision to put all of that in jeopardy.

To my surprise and graciousness, this person has been immediately responsive and understanding. They haven't cut me out of their life and they haven't punished me for what I've done.

And that's the hardest part. I need them to punish me so that I can stop punishing myself. I want them to scream and cry so that I know they're passionately upset by what I've done. But I fear that I'm at the point in this relationship where there is no more screaming and yelling. There is no more passion to our fights. I think I've done something so big that the only viable option is to walk away from the history that we share.

For that I'm scared.

Unfortunately, this is only the beginning of the hurt that's about to come.

At Least It’s a Post?

I know I’m supposed to type about my birthday and all the events surrounding last week, but I just can’t bring myself to do it. If I don’t post today, my hotmail account is going to explode with angry and concerned emails, so whatever comes out of my fingertips right now is what the post is going to be. Is that fair enough? I decree, yes.

So today for lunch, I went to this local Mexican restaurant and had a cheeseburger. Yes, I know. I even said to the server, “Who gets a cheeseburger at a Mexican restaurant?”. She giggled and flipped her hair. But in all honesty, it was a beautiful lunch. I had some wine and read my new book (a FANTASTIC little ditty called “the curious incident of the dog in the night-time” by Mark Haddon. Rita gave me the book when I was visiting her and the Rubix, and I’ve fallen in love with the story. To the point that when a major plot point was revealed, I sat in the restaurant and had to gaze out the window until the tears in my eyes reabsorbed into my face. It’s a good one, this book.

My birthday was phenomenal on a billion levels, but I don’t want to talk about that right now.

What I want to talk about is the fact that I jerked off last night for about 45 minutes. It took forever, cuz sometimes when I masturbate, I have to find JUST the right video. I’ll make a decision on a particular video and then half-way through I decide it’s not worthy of my load. I know…its high maintenance. In any case, I then switch videos, but then the computer freezes from muscle overload and I have to spend 10 minutes rebooting. It makes for a very long and drawn out masturbatory experience.

In any case, as I start cumming, I decide that screaming and moaning is totally appropriate and I go all out. Sometimes I do this to pretend that I’m having the hottest, crazed sex of my lifetime. At least so the neighbors will buy it. In ANY CASE, I start to cum and scream and act all lame and against my will, I fell off the chair I was sitting on and went crashing to the floor. Of course I kept cumming and screaming and now laughing and when I looked over, Tyler was standing next to me, with a cocked (punny) head and giving me a disapproving look. I said “I know, I know” and stood to clean the mess.

You understand.

Lately I’ve been even angrier at the Bush Administration than before. I mean, I’m ALWAYS angry and often more perplexed that people are supporting him at all, but lately I’ve had a seething inside of me that just won’t quit. Maybe it was the five minutes of Fahrenheit 9/11 I saw on Monday night. I mean, I own and have seen the movie tons of times (proaganda my ass), but even when I stop in and catch a few minutes of it, I’m DISTURBED by the fact that he ever got to be President to begin with. This whole administration is so corrupt and under-handed; it makes me want to die.

But I digress and move on to other things…

I went to a wedding in Tom’s River, New Jersey this weekend and laughed my ass off right back to NYC. I had a fantastic time overall, but because I was in a place where I knew next to no one, I decided to just let loose and be crazy. First off, I was the star of the show and became friends with both the bride and the groom’s mothers. I was the “IT” guy at the wedding, no doubt. However, when you become the “IT” guy at a wedding, there are dire consequences. Such as when I woke up the next morning and realized that when the “Wedding Camera” (you know…the film they take at the wedding of everyone having fun) came to me, I did devil’s horns and screamed “Rock and Roll”!

First of all, that’s not funny by any means. Second of all, when your hair has lost all of the pomade that was put in it and is now sticking straight to the ceiling with sweat…even more uncool. Then you’ve already screamed “Rock and Roll”, you stop it(!), rather than take the microphone that’s attached to the camera and start belting out “Take me down to the Paradise City Where the…”

OMG CRINGE.

The only saving grace I have is that I will never see 98% of these people again. But then again, when the parents of the wedding couple watch the video, they are TOTALLY going to say “Who IS that guy and WHY is he at the wedding?”

I can only hope the mothers will respond with “That’s the nice boy that took our bags to our room” or “That was the handsome guy in the Louis Vuitton tie”. And then for sure, they will follow up those comments with “I just don’t know what got into him”.

My bad?

In any case, I’ve just smoked 3 cigarettes in one hour since being back from lunch. Maybe it’s time I give my lungs a rest and give my fingers some work.

I know this post wasn’t what I had promised, but at least I wrote something, yes?

OH YES.

Love and jizz to you all!

AT LONG LAST!

Hi all!

I'm finally back! Just a quick post today as I still have so much going on. But I wanted to stop in really quick to say thank you to EACH and EVERY one of you that called me, emailed me, showed up at my apartment, etc. This was definitely the best birthday I've had since I turned 21!

The picture above is of a balloon that my friend Kelly gave me with my present. It sings opera and makes me laugh every time it goes off. I play it every single morning and will continue to do so until I turn 30!

I have so much to write about, but don't have the time today. Expect a DOOZY of a post on Monday.

I just feel so overwhelmed with love right now. My family and friends really came through for me this year. There were many surprises, many gifts, and even more laughs and drinks. It was absolutely unreal.

I miss you all and will be back on Monday with a million stories.

Until then...have a fantastic weekend!