30.12.05
28.12.05
Nothing brings a smile to my face more than a gay man
Two gay men make my day even better!
I had to go to the mall today and buy a birthday present for the B-man. While I was in this particular store, I happened to run into a fellow DePaul classmate who worked at the store. I said hello to her, and then she just so happened to check me out. Glad to be leaving (not because of her, but the store's overwhelming atmosphere), I scampered to the exit, only to hear a man's voice call my name.
"Hello, Darling."
"Brandon! Good to see you again." Brandon looked at someone else from his party approaching. "Alex! Oh my God! I haven't seen you in FOREVER! How's it going?"
Alex and I were in the very first Limelight Theatre production together. Every once in a while, I'd see him over the summer while he was living with his dad in the area. Alex (19) is Brandon's (20?) younger uncle. Funny family.
They weren't doing anything special, so I suggested we chat over some coffee.
It was such a good time. They ranted and praised the life-changing experience known as Brokeback Mountain. Brandon and I booed and hissed at our high school choir director. He also told me that I had not yet lived until I see Kapote. Alex is as wonderful as ever and still doesn't blip on my gay-dar. He has turned into such a movie buff and has a really good voice. It's too bad we never went to high school together. We always got along pretty well.
They really cheered me up, though. You might try and take a jab by calling me a fag-hag, but there's nothing better than having a good talk about the arts and people we hated in high school and, of course, scoping out attractive men.
I had to go to the mall today and buy a birthday present for the B-man. While I was in this particular store, I happened to run into a fellow DePaul classmate who worked at the store. I said hello to her, and then she just so happened to check me out. Glad to be leaving (not because of her, but the store's overwhelming atmosphere), I scampered to the exit, only to hear a man's voice call my name.
"Hello, Darling."
"Brandon! Good to see you again." Brandon looked at someone else from his party approaching. "Alex! Oh my God! I haven't seen you in FOREVER! How's it going?"
Alex and I were in the very first Limelight Theatre production together. Every once in a while, I'd see him over the summer while he was living with his dad in the area. Alex (19) is Brandon's (20?) younger uncle. Funny family.
They weren't doing anything special, so I suggested we chat over some coffee.
It was such a good time. They ranted and praised the life-changing experience known as Brokeback Mountain. Brandon and I booed and hissed at our high school choir director. He also told me that I had not yet lived until I see Kapote. Alex is as wonderful as ever and still doesn't blip on my gay-dar. He has turned into such a movie buff and has a really good voice. It's too bad we never went to high school together. We always got along pretty well.
They really cheered me up, though. You might try and take a jab by calling me a fag-hag, but there's nothing better than having a good talk about the arts and people we hated in high school and, of course, scoping out attractive men.
22.12.05
I need a holiday hopper
Sorry for lack of updates, kiddies. I started writing a post a few days ago about the size of my family's Christmas tree, but I never got around to finishing it because then I realized that I'd have to take a picture of it and I didn't feel like doing that because then I'd have to update my Buzznet as well. I have a ton of pictures that I just haven't felt like posting.
Sigh...
What's wrong with me? Limelight is done now. I don't have that excuse anymore. Christmas is here. I'm excited to see my family again. My cousin Josh is back from Spain. He'll have a lot of stories to tell. I went to Alex's Christmas party last night. That was lots of fun.
So why don't I want to do anything right now? After all my complaining about not having anything to do, now all I want to do is stay at home and be with my brother and sister.
I still don't have my Dekalb hat back. Oak Park Mastermind must want to keep it for good. This makes me very sad.
I go back to school January 1. I can't tell if I'm excited or dreading.
Sigh...
What's wrong with me? Limelight is done now. I don't have that excuse anymore. Christmas is here. I'm excited to see my family again. My cousin Josh is back from Spain. He'll have a lot of stories to tell. I went to Alex's Christmas party last night. That was lots of fun.
So why don't I want to do anything right now? After all my complaining about not having anything to do, now all I want to do is stay at home and be with my brother and sister.
I still don't have my Dekalb hat back. Oak Park Mastermind must want to keep it for good. This makes me very sad.
I go back to school January 1. I can't tell if I'm excited or dreading.
12.12.05
The age old question
What do you want?
Since infancy, we have all been asked this question.
What do you want?
Answers are usually one of the following:
[Crying and screaming]
Chocolate.
Money.
success.
Love.
I don't know.
Usually, the last seems to be my answer, even if I just want something to eat from the kitchen. I don't know what I want to eat or what I want my life to be. Are we supposed to know what we want? The power to choose and to reason supposedly separates us from other animals, but what good does that do us when we can't come up with an answer?
All of this thinking is spurred by something Brian said to me this past week.
"I'm almost 34 and I don't even know what I want."
This concept nearly floored me.
We can go through our entire lives without feeling satisfied with ourselves. I guess I always thought that at some point in our lives, we would eventually reach a nirvana of sorts, a complacency with a career or living situation or relationship. And if one does not find this happy place, then she is a failure, a vagabond, a gypsy in life with little hope of really "settling down."
This pinnacle should start to be reached during the college years because that's the time you're supposed to "find" yourself.
Well, I've decided that my previous beliefs are shit.
College is nothing. It's fun and you learn a trade and you learn to be independent, but at this point, we're all too self indulgent and starry-eyed and wet behind the ears to really learn anything about ourselves, except maybe our alcohol tolerance.
And most of all, it confuses the hell out of you. If you're not confused, then there's probably something wrong with you, or you're too motivated for your own good.
Do I know what I really want to do with the rest of my life? I haven't the slightest clue, but I'll get a degree in vocal performance and see where that gets me. Maybe later in life, I can go back to school and learn something really cool, like Russian history.
I know I don't want to be aimless forever, but I don't think I'll be concerned if I can't find the perfect job right away or get upset if things don't go according to my original plans.
What do you want?
I don't know. What do you want?
Since infancy, we have all been asked this question.
What do you want?
Answers are usually one of the following:
[Crying and screaming]
Chocolate.
Money.
success.
Love.
I don't know.
Usually, the last seems to be my answer, even if I just want something to eat from the kitchen. I don't know what I want to eat or what I want my life to be. Are we supposed to know what we want? The power to choose and to reason supposedly separates us from other animals, but what good does that do us when we can't come up with an answer?
All of this thinking is spurred by something Brian said to me this past week.
"I'm almost 34 and I don't even know what I want."
This concept nearly floored me.
We can go through our entire lives without feeling satisfied with ourselves. I guess I always thought that at some point in our lives, we would eventually reach a nirvana of sorts, a complacency with a career or living situation or relationship. And if one does not find this happy place, then she is a failure, a vagabond, a gypsy in life with little hope of really "settling down."
This pinnacle should start to be reached during the college years because that's the time you're supposed to "find" yourself.
Well, I've decided that my previous beliefs are shit.
College is nothing. It's fun and you learn a trade and you learn to be independent, but at this point, we're all too self indulgent and starry-eyed and wet behind the ears to really learn anything about ourselves, except maybe our alcohol tolerance.
And most of all, it confuses the hell out of you. If you're not confused, then there's probably something wrong with you, or you're too motivated for your own good.
Do I know what I really want to do with the rest of my life? I haven't the slightest clue, but I'll get a degree in vocal performance and see where that gets me. Maybe later in life, I can go back to school and learn something really cool, like Russian history.
I know I don't want to be aimless forever, but I don't think I'll be concerned if I can't find the perfect job right away or get upset if things don't go according to my original plans.
What do you want?
I don't know. What do you want?
8.12.05
Dentist
Normally, I don't dread going to the dentist like some people. My dentist is a good friend of the family, and she's nice, doesn't give me too hard a time for not flossing.
But there are factors beyond the dentist's control.
My appointment was for 11, but I got there nearly 20 minutes early. So like a normal person I sat in the waiting room, reading a trashy magazine, and I barely notice the man sitting at the other end of the couch.
"Hello. How are you today?"
Shit. He engaged me, and I was obligated to return the favor.
"I'm fine."
"My name is Charlie."
My god, it had to have been the most awkward 20 minutes of my life. It was like talking to a friend you never really liked, but for some reason or another, you have to be nice to them.
He was CLEARLY gay (the speech impediment was a clear give-away), but worked for a video production company that filmed for Maxim Magazine and Budweiser. He would giggle uncomfortably while describing the "scenes" he had to set up for half naked girls to play on.
At the end of our little chat, he invited me to watch the Chronicles of Narnia with him and his dad.
"No, that's ok. Sounds like a family thing I wouldn't want to intrude upon."
Then I sat in the dentist's chair while the dental hygenist brutally scraped away the enamel on my teeth.
When my real dentist came into the room, I smiled at her with my gums bleeding.
I have to go back next Thursday to get a cavity filled.
At least next time Charlie won't be there.
But there are factors beyond the dentist's control.
My appointment was for 11, but I got there nearly 20 minutes early. So like a normal person I sat in the waiting room, reading a trashy magazine, and I barely notice the man sitting at the other end of the couch.
"Hello. How are you today?"
Shit. He engaged me, and I was obligated to return the favor.
"I'm fine."
"My name is Charlie."
My god, it had to have been the most awkward 20 minutes of my life. It was like talking to a friend you never really liked, but for some reason or another, you have to be nice to them.
He was CLEARLY gay (the speech impediment was a clear give-away), but worked for a video production company that filmed for Maxim Magazine and Budweiser. He would giggle uncomfortably while describing the "scenes" he had to set up for half naked girls to play on.
At the end of our little chat, he invited me to watch the Chronicles of Narnia with him and his dad.
"No, that's ok. Sounds like a family thing I wouldn't want to intrude upon."
Then I sat in the dentist's chair while the dental hygenist brutally scraped away the enamel on my teeth.
When my real dentist came into the room, I smiled at her with my gums bleeding.
I have to go back next Thursday to get a cavity filled.
At least next time Charlie won't be there.
4.12.05
Drunk Dialed...Again!
At least someone is having a good time.
For the past two nights one of my friends has drunk dialed me.
Now, normally this wouldn't be a problem, but due to my sick circumstances these phone calls have come at very inopportune times. (There is a mountain of dirty kleenexes by my bedside. If one didn't know better, they would think that someone has been furiously masturbating.)
I'm not mad at my friend. I think it's hilarious that I have been chosen as the designated drunk dialee. But it is a sign of the times that we are now in. No longer are we innocent, goofy high school kids. This is the beginning of something much greater. First come these random phone calls, then come marriage and babies and then death.
As far as I'm concerned, the combination of marriage and babies is fatal for at least the first fifteen years. Then, when you're 45 or so, you get to have a life again.
Literally, and symbolically, it's a wake-up call. This is life now, and all the playing fields are level. Whatever upper edge I thought I had over people my age is now gone.
Other people want the same singing career, so I have to be on guard at all times.
Maturity wise, I'm starting to feel no different. In fact, I have a sneeking suspicion that I have digressed.
It's not like this: Oh, I want to stay a teenager forever and have all my friends be the same so that we can live in peace and happiness and giddiness for the rest of our lives because I don't want to be old and jaded.
It's more like: Wow, this is really happening. We really are growing up and becoming (or not becoming) the things we once wanted to be. Some of us have changed a lot, and others not so much.
And this is only the beginning.
For the past two nights one of my friends has drunk dialed me.
Now, normally this wouldn't be a problem, but due to my sick circumstances these phone calls have come at very inopportune times. (There is a mountain of dirty kleenexes by my bedside. If one didn't know better, they would think that someone has been furiously masturbating.)
I'm not mad at my friend. I think it's hilarious that I have been chosen as the designated drunk dialee. But it is a sign of the times that we are now in. No longer are we innocent, goofy high school kids. This is the beginning of something much greater. First come these random phone calls, then come marriage and babies and then death.
As far as I'm concerned, the combination of marriage and babies is fatal for at least the first fifteen years. Then, when you're 45 or so, you get to have a life again.
Literally, and symbolically, it's a wake-up call. This is life now, and all the playing fields are level. Whatever upper edge I thought I had over people my age is now gone.
Other people want the same singing career, so I have to be on guard at all times.
Maturity wise, I'm starting to feel no different. In fact, I have a sneeking suspicion that I have digressed.
It's not like this: Oh, I want to stay a teenager forever and have all my friends be the same so that we can live in peace and happiness and giddiness for the rest of our lives because I don't want to be old and jaded.
It's more like: Wow, this is really happening. We really are growing up and becoming (or not becoming) the things we once wanted to be. Some of us have changed a lot, and others not so much.
And this is only the beginning.
3.12.05
I am deathly ill.
Not really, but I want to die.
I think I have bronchitis or something of the respiratory sorts. I'm shaky because of the medicine I'm taking, but I haven't seen a doctor yet. There's this awful thing called a breathing treatment. Basically, it's a bunch of liquid steroids put into a container, and then this machine that makes a lot of noise vaporizes the medicine and you breath in. It takes forever and makes you feel like you have Parkinson Disease.
The stuff works though. I can breathe slightly better now but I'm still coughing. That probably won't go away for a while. And I still have a sore throat. At least that can be solved.
So, if you're one of my true friends, leave me alone and don't call me. Even if I answer, you will not recognize my voice.
Let me die in peace.
Not really, but I want to die.
I think I have bronchitis or something of the respiratory sorts. I'm shaky because of the medicine I'm taking, but I haven't seen a doctor yet. There's this awful thing called a breathing treatment. Basically, it's a bunch of liquid steroids put into a container, and then this machine that makes a lot of noise vaporizes the medicine and you breath in. It takes forever and makes you feel like you have Parkinson Disease.
The stuff works though. I can breathe slightly better now but I'm still coughing. That probably won't go away for a while. And I still have a sore throat. At least that can be solved.
So, if you're one of my true friends, leave me alone and don't call me. Even if I answer, you will not recognize my voice.
Let me die in peace.
1.12.05
Gray Skies
I need a day job.
I love cleaning houses two days a week and judging speech meets on Saturdays, but this is ridiculous.
I'm hiding from my father but he has the day off today so it's a little challenging.
I should see what Chops is doing.
Hopefully something slightly more interesting than visiting blogs and buzznet all day long.
This is the dark side of frequent posting.
Hott Gurl hasn't given me my Dekalb hat back yet.
I'm too impatient.
Many things have been ruined because I haven't been patient.
This post is inspired by this one, but I spell better.
Boyfriend is visiting ex-girlfriend in Chicago today.
Shouldn't let it bother me.
I have little room to talk.
This post is going to piss off more than one person.
There's snow on the ground today.
What is that?
Chops, I hate you sometimes and why in the world would you have a crush on MJ?
I need a better life.
I love cleaning houses two days a week and judging speech meets on Saturdays, but this is ridiculous.
I'm hiding from my father but he has the day off today so it's a little challenging.
I should see what Chops is doing.
Hopefully something slightly more interesting than visiting blogs and buzznet all day long.
This is the dark side of frequent posting.
Hott Gurl hasn't given me my Dekalb hat back yet.
I'm too impatient.
Many things have been ruined because I haven't been patient.
This post is inspired by this one, but I spell better.
Boyfriend is visiting ex-girlfriend in Chicago today.
Shouldn't let it bother me.
I have little room to talk.
This post is going to piss off more than one person.
There's snow on the ground today.
What is that?
Chops, I hate you sometimes and why in the world would you have a crush on MJ?
I need a better life.
Honey Bear Ham wants you to stay in the city
Alex and I, of course!
Kids, the suburbs suck.
The city is where it's at.
According to some important people, we'll all be living in the city someday. Of course, I don't remember where I heard this fact and I can't give any real numbers, but we're all living in the city, in the slums.
Which I think is a better place to be than home right now.
Never come back home, kids. It only leads to heartache and dependency.
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