So I go into my geek internet hangout and got all shouty and preachy last night, and called out one of my favorite dudes--one of the thimbleful to whom I came out of the closet, mind you. I challenged him on the idea of elitism. He didn't verbalize how upset I had made him, but he did withdraw from the forums for the evening with a statement that indicated how he felt.
So of course, now I'm upset. I don't regret my opinion, I just regret the sledgehammer with which I delivered it. There are some truths out there that people aren't ready for. And there are some comparisons that aren't fair to make. I'm guilty of doing both to one guy who really didn't deserve it from me.
It's just that the term "I'm better than" sets off alarms for me and it calls up images that scare me and threaten me. I didn't want that to be true of my dude, so I rang the bells and called him out. And his reaction seems to indicate that I touched a nerve.
But I need to let him have that. His sense of superiority put him where he is now and keeps him successful in his field. I also think it's a character flaw and that career success isn't so important that it should allow you to look down on anybody. But that's why I'm not a sports fan. I'm clearly a hippie, in fact. Still, this guy has never shown anything but love to me--so why did I let his character flaw threaten me? Did I think he was going to go get a rope and a white hood and lynch me?
Ahhh! I just hope he can recover. I hurt him. I sold him short. I've asked him to forgive me. I hope he accepts.
Friday, April 30, 2010
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
"I Deserve This Sexy"
That's what Fringes said at her place when she told readers that her size 4 jeans were falling off her butt.
I LIKED that!
Because I've been strutting my stuff in front of my mirror too! Today I finally made that bitch of a scale say my name! "186!" it said, clear as a bell. 30 official pounds have been shed since Jan 5th.
Last week I was at the gym in shorts and only my black athletic t-shirt (and socks and sneakers). I've never before worked out in public in just an underwear t-shirt. Other, thicker, "outerwear" t-shirts always, but never a common Hanes t-shirt. This time I did, actually because I forgot the other kind at home. And this was following a day where I felt fat and unattractive and just yucky. What a difference a day made.
Day before yesterday, I came up with something that for some reason I hadn't at all considered. It's this; even though I like to blog 99% of my business out, and Tweet 75% of the same, I actually don't have to declare JACK.
All my friends to whom I haven't told about my sexuality--never need me to. Whether they want to know or not. Whether they would care or not. I don't have to tell them anything! I'm not a war that needs open declaration!
After all, they don't tell ME the saucy details of THEIR shtup life! So why they have to know mine?? When did I assume THAT responsibility?
And the corollation goes thusly; I can go get my freak on without worrying who knows and who doesn't. Because if I'm ever 'found out', or if I ever get one 'a dem lurve connections and my smoky hot man wants to come to a comic convention with me, I don't have to feel guilty at all. At all.
Here's how it'll go;
Friend; "So who's your buddy?"
Me; "This is my dude, Rick." Rick pecks me on the cheek. Or maybe the mouth. Because Rick is never ashamed of who he is. And he thinks I'm hot too.
Later, when Rick has gone--
Friend; "So ... dude, you're GAY??"
Me; "Yeah? Is that a problem?"
Friend; "But ... what about Corinne Bailey Rae? And Ciara? I thought you loved them?"
Me; "Ciara's hot, and if Corrine ever entered my life, I surely would try to make a go of it, but nah dude. Generally guys turn me on. Always have, as long as I could remember."
Friend; "Hmm. Just ... I don't know...I had this whole image of you!"
Me; "Yeah, no."
Friend; "But why didn't you ever say so?"
Me; "Didn't seem appropriate at the time. We never really talked about sex, have we? I mean, not really."
Friend; "I guess not ... really."
Me; "And if you would have asked me point blank, I guess I would've told you. But you never did. I mean, I've never asked you when the last time was you had sex. I never thought you really wanted to get that intimate with me."
Friend; "Fair enough. I guess it does make sense in a way."
Me; "So again, is this a problem for you?"
(And as I suspect, those who are really my friends will say--); "Dude, what's changed? Be who you are. You'll always be my friend."
As others have already done.
I'ma have a sixpack by June.
I deserve this sexy.
I LIKED that!
Because I've been strutting my stuff in front of my mirror too! Today I finally made that bitch of a scale say my name! "186!" it said, clear as a bell. 30 official pounds have been shed since Jan 5th.
Last week I was at the gym in shorts and only my black athletic t-shirt (and socks and sneakers). I've never before worked out in public in just an underwear t-shirt. Other, thicker, "outerwear" t-shirts always, but never a common Hanes t-shirt. This time I did, actually because I forgot the other kind at home. And this was following a day where I felt fat and unattractive and just yucky. What a difference a day made.
Day before yesterday, I came up with something that for some reason I hadn't at all considered. It's this; even though I like to blog 99% of my business out, and Tweet 75% of the same, I actually don't have to declare JACK.
All my friends to whom I haven't told about my sexuality--never need me to. Whether they want to know or not. Whether they would care or not. I don't have to tell them anything! I'm not a war that needs open declaration!
After all, they don't tell ME the saucy details of THEIR shtup life! So why they have to know mine?? When did I assume THAT responsibility?
And the corollation goes thusly; I can go get my freak on without worrying who knows and who doesn't. Because if I'm ever 'found out', or if I ever get one 'a dem lurve connections and my smoky hot man wants to come to a comic convention with me, I don't have to feel guilty at all. At all.
Here's how it'll go;
Friend; "So who's your buddy?"
Me; "This is my dude, Rick." Rick pecks me on the cheek. Or maybe the mouth. Because Rick is never ashamed of who he is. And he thinks I'm hot too.
Later, when Rick has gone--
Friend; "So ... dude, you're GAY??"
Me; "Yeah? Is that a problem?"
Friend; "But ... what about Corinne Bailey Rae? And Ciara? I thought you loved them?"
Me; "Ciara's hot, and if Corrine ever entered my life, I surely would try to make a go of it, but nah dude. Generally guys turn me on. Always have, as long as I could remember."
Friend; "Hmm. Just ... I don't know...I had this whole image of you!"
Me; "Yeah, no."
Friend; "But why didn't you ever say so?"
Me; "Didn't seem appropriate at the time. We never really talked about sex, have we? I mean, not really."
Friend; "I guess not ... really."
Me; "And if you would have asked me point blank, I guess I would've told you. But you never did. I mean, I've never asked you when the last time was you had sex. I never thought you really wanted to get that intimate with me."
Friend; "Fair enough. I guess it does make sense in a way."
Me; "So again, is this a problem for you?"
(And as I suspect, those who are really my friends will say--); "Dude, what's changed? Be who you are. You'll always be my friend."
As others have already done.
I'ma have a sixpack by June.
I deserve this sexy.
Monday, April 19, 2010
I've Heard It Calling My Name
I've heard it too many times to ignore it
It's something that I'm s'posed to be.
Someday we'll find it
The Rainbow Connection
The lovers,
The dreamers
And me.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
This Homo Life, Pt 2
So yeah, so out with Con Buddy last night and had a fun time with the geekery, which went along with more candid talk about our private lives whereupon he detailed more of his very very straight libidinous attractions and I fronted again as if I were Johnny Hetereo.
Yeah, I'm settled. Con Buddy loves the ladies and I'm just where I always have been--on the outside looking in.
Whatevs.
Yeah, I'm settled. Con Buddy loves the ladies and I'm just where I always have been--on the outside looking in.
Whatevs.
Friday, April 9, 2010
This Homo Life
Did I already use that blogpost title once? But anyway. So the bloke I've blogged about once, we'll call him Con Buddy--not because he's been to prison, but because he's great to buddy up with at a comics convention--is getting closer with me in terms of friendship. Handsome Italian guy who has made offers of companionship since the day he first said hello at my first Geektogether lo these two or so years ago.
Of course, his offers have mostly concerned conventions. He booked us in the same hotel room down to the next con, and we're driving down together, and then the plans evolved to include others in on the trip and the hotel room.
Then lately, at the start of the year he wanted me to come with him to Yoga. (Didn't work out because he said he'd hurt his back, but I was going to go, dang it. Was going to show my feet and everything.) Then he wanted to meet up with more geeks when I did, here and abouts in the city. "Don't forget me!" said he. Then last week he wanted me to take him to a gym for a trial membership since he knows I go. Which I did, and afterwards we went out to eat. Tomorrow, we're going out to a small and regular comicbook social venue that I've wanted to attend for ages.
So lemme ask you...in the mind of the average man, this is just what friendship between dudes is supoosed to be like, right? We laugh, we have things in common, we're physically butchy, we cuss, and we talk about girls.
*skkrrrrxx*
Oh yeah, that's right did I mention that part? This is something we men seem to need to do. Talk about girls. Even when, as in my case, we're not actually sexually all that interested in them. So in the mind of my Con Buddy, I'm a single straight guy who makes a good and available friend.
And in MY mind, he's a single straight guy who is where I was when I was his age (just touching 40). He's had girlfriends like I have, (only in his case lived with one of them, and has had sex with more than one of them), and now has drifted back into singlehood by his own choice.
So of course, in my mind I've thought and hoped more than a little that all his overtures for friendship have been because he's attracted to me but doesn't want to be gay, but is just obeying his libido and not piling recriminations on himself. I want to believe he's going with his flow because life is too short, plus he's not learned how to live in the shadow of self-condemnation and fear religious judgment.
But.
Even if all that were true, I rediscovered the other day just how fearful I am of This Homo Life. Even with all the above hopes and beliefs about Con Buddy fully in place, when I had the opportunity to come out to him over dinner, after the gym, I didn't do it. It's not for lack of ability--I had the same conversation going with him that I had had with my Podcast Mancrush(es) when I came out to them. I knew what conversational road to go down in order to lead to the Homo Destination. But with Con Buddy, I breezed right past my stop.
Why did I do that? And, you might ask, why do I not plan to revisit that stop at all? I accept that he could be just like me; attracted and looking to be swept off his feet with his first passionate butch-kiss but has never had any homosexual relationships and doesn't really want to cross that line into that world and that identification. Which, since I've chosen that same path for myself, I respect. But if there's ever any chance to even briefly experiment, much less have a full-on same sex romantic relationship, he would be the guy to try it with.
Yet, I just can't. It's like bungee-jumping (do they still do that anymore?) If the cord breaks, I'm dead. Dead dead dead. And I've done just fine without it. And people who have tried it say it's a rush, and life-affirming and yadda yadda yadda. But the shit is scary.
So I'm content to just have a friend to do stuff with and go places with instead of being alone all the time. Even if I think he's handsome, I don't need to be kissed (wants aside). It feels safer just to have the human connection without complicating it with The Love That Dare Not Speak Its Name. I mean, hell, straight guys do it all the time, don't they? Why can't I?
And that's what's going on.
Of course, his offers have mostly concerned conventions. He booked us in the same hotel room down to the next con, and we're driving down together, and then the plans evolved to include others in on the trip and the hotel room.
Then lately, at the start of the year he wanted me to come with him to Yoga. (Didn't work out because he said he'd hurt his back, but I was going to go, dang it. Was going to show my feet and everything.) Then he wanted to meet up with more geeks when I did, here and abouts in the city. "Don't forget me!" said he. Then last week he wanted me to take him to a gym for a trial membership since he knows I go. Which I did, and afterwards we went out to eat. Tomorrow, we're going out to a small and regular comicbook social venue that I've wanted to attend for ages.
So lemme ask you...in the mind of the average man, this is just what friendship between dudes is supoosed to be like, right? We laugh, we have things in common, we're physically butchy, we cuss, and we talk about girls.
*skkrrrrxx*
Oh yeah, that's right did I mention that part? This is something we men seem to need to do. Talk about girls. Even when, as in my case, we're not actually sexually all that interested in them. So in the mind of my Con Buddy, I'm a single straight guy who makes a good and available friend.
And in MY mind, he's a single straight guy who is where I was when I was his age (just touching 40). He's had girlfriends like I have, (only in his case lived with one of them, and has had sex with more than one of them), and now has drifted back into singlehood by his own choice.
So of course, in my mind I've thought and hoped more than a little that all his overtures for friendship have been because he's attracted to me but doesn't want to be gay, but is just obeying his libido and not piling recriminations on himself. I want to believe he's going with his flow because life is too short, plus he's not learned how to live in the shadow of self-condemnation and fear religious judgment.
But.
Even if all that were true, I rediscovered the other day just how fearful I am of This Homo Life. Even with all the above hopes and beliefs about Con Buddy fully in place, when I had the opportunity to come out to him over dinner, after the gym, I didn't do it. It's not for lack of ability--I had the same conversation going with him that I had had with my Podcast Mancrush(es) when I came out to them. I knew what conversational road to go down in order to lead to the Homo Destination. But with Con Buddy, I breezed right past my stop.
Why did I do that? And, you might ask, why do I not plan to revisit that stop at all? I accept that he could be just like me; attracted and looking to be swept off his feet with his first passionate butch-kiss but has never had any homosexual relationships and doesn't really want to cross that line into that world and that identification. Which, since I've chosen that same path for myself, I respect. But if there's ever any chance to even briefly experiment, much less have a full-on same sex romantic relationship, he would be the guy to try it with.
Yet, I just can't. It's like bungee-jumping (do they still do that anymore?) If the cord breaks, I'm dead. Dead dead dead. And I've done just fine without it. And people who have tried it say it's a rush, and life-affirming and yadda yadda yadda. But the shit is scary.
So I'm content to just have a friend to do stuff with and go places with instead of being alone all the time. Even if I think he's handsome, I don't need to be kissed (wants aside). It feels safer just to have the human connection without complicating it with The Love That Dare Not Speak Its Name. I mean, hell, straight guys do it all the time, don't they? Why can't I?
And that's what's going on.
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