NYC 2, ME 0

Welp, NYC claimed another of my cars, but this tragic tale started in NJ, honestly. Back when I had my accident and needed a new car, it was clear that my credit was shot 8 ways to hell and no sane person would extend me credit without something exhorbitant and rapey. So I got my car. 3.15 years later I've paid 14K on it and still have 10K to go. The hope was that I'd start making enough money to pay the principal off on the car loan early.

Well that didn't happen.

Then I moved to NYC and then I got the dicey job I have now, and then took the supervisor's position, then gave it back, then the car got towed ... and towed ... and ticketed ... and ticketed ... and towed ... and finally towed again two weeks ago. Just when my finances bottomed out.

So not only can I not afford just to maintain the car in an openly hostile driving environment (I'd love to meet the person who owns a car in NYC and has never gotten a ticket for anything.), but I can't afford the car itself. Insurance + car payment + gas + repair/maintenance equals a broke and despairing Me.

So I told the Toyota finance company to take the car -- I no longer can afford it. "Voluntary Surrender" they call it. 150 pts put on my credit to be reflected for the next 7 years, they warned. Okay, whatever, thank you ma'am. I can't afford the car anymore. And in all truth, I never needed it the moment I moved into NYC. Every dime I spent on it, except in the service of my clients, was a waste and a delay on my saving money and being able to get my own place, one prepaid-yearly lease at a time.

So in the next few paychecks, I'll know where I stand. Will it be just enough to only pay rent to this guy I live with, or will there be some savings this time around?

We'll see.

In other news, My First Man Date checked-up on me through e-mail. It was confirmed--I DID see him that night in Williamsburg when I was with my hetero Con Buddy. I told him everything I had felt and he put on his "I Understand" hat. And he's no longer in the relationship he was in. And he's been with guys since. And he's definitely not the one for me. I get the feeling he's pursuing me now because I'm the one that got away. Soon as he's had me, he'll be on his merry way and I'll never hear from him again. But for right now, he doesn't want me -- he wants us to be each other's wingmen at a gay bar. Although he doesn't know where because he says he doesn't go to them. Also, he doesn't drink, and to his recollection, neither do I (which has been true in the last two weeks. I've fallen out of love with the idea and the sour taste in my stomach started to annoy me.)

So I might do that, although I'm not eager. It still feels awkward to go out with a guy I rejected, even though he insists it's friendship only. I mean, I AM a guy. I know how we think. And too, I don't want to watch men in a gay bar dancing. That's not attractive to me.

So yeah. A little down at the mo. Treating my clients has become all the life-affirmation I can muster up lately, and that's not so bad. I'm still helping people deal with their lives, regardless of how badly I manage to keep fucking mine up. That'll have to serve for self-esteem at the moment.

Memory Lane

So I was looking for my comments at YouTube to find out how long ago I had noticed a cover artist and how long ago I had been leaving him messages because I found out from his postings that he had been in a band 25 years ago, and what I thought was a heck of a good try for an amateur was/is the latter day stylings of a professional musician.

Little bit of a letdown. My messages were all, "Great job! You're really good!" when he was probably all, "Fool, *I* know *that*!"

Hehe.

So I came here to see if I ever posted his vids into any of my blog entries and it seems that I didn't. But I did find that it's been two years since I acknowledged my gay self. And I have noticed that now it's going on THREE years. And I've noticed how sad it makes me to see such a lack of progress on my part. And I noticed how I slowed my blogging down because I didn't want to keep dealing with the same failure over and over again, and neither did you.

So I found this post which details the group of geeks to whom's wife I told my designation sexuale a few nights ago. One of those people in that video died last year of a heart attack. (I repeat that each time I talk about them now, because I didn't want to face it before.)

I found that back then, I had some crippling anxiety issues that I had taken meds for. I found that at another geek getaway, I stayed in my hotel room and blogged with you guys and ate at Olive Garden.

I found that I'm not much different now than I was then. I find that yes, I do get out more, and have more friends, (and the same ones also), and I don't need the meds anymore to get me to go to a new social venue and meet people. But I still drop jobs like a neurotic person. I still live with someone instead of on my own. I still under-earn like an absolute wanker. I still hope for something (well, ANYthing really) that I haven't been able to achieve. I'm still weird and strange.

Surely I'm autistic? I live inside here and have not blogged or medicated my way out yet. I still hate mornings enough to reject fulltime work, even when I had it.

So anyway, it seems obvious to me that I've lost 2010. I've no idea where it went. It seems like it was a great year for many of you guys, though. So that's great.

So ... yeah.

That's just what's on my mind right now. Tomorrow is one of those insanely early days that I hate, but thankfully, it's only the one per week. So I should be going to sleep, but I've no chance of sleeping right now. Too many thoughts. And tomorrow, I'll have to clean the snow off the car practically at the crack of dawn to get going INTO the morning. No fun.

And I don't feel as coherent and as determined right now as I have in days (years) past. Little disappointed at that, really. I feel like there are some great things up in here that I keep failing to access. Well, I'll say that I have failed up to this point to access.

Who knows what tomorrow will show? I need to learn to ignore all the failed tomorrows of yesterday.

And ... just that's it right now.

Take care.

I See What's Going On Here

So I come to my blog and I spew my latest vitriol, drop a few f-bombs, then I go out and tell someone else that I'm gay. Somehow this is a process for me.

Because this time I told one of the Inner Circle. That is to say, the band of geeks that I've gone down to North Carolina to meet, dine and share with at the comics convention --I told the wife of that group. Her husband is the glue that holds us together with his podcasts and his energy and near-autistic love for comics and us. Out of that group we lost the 36 year old brother to a massive heart attack a year ago from Thanksgiving.

She knitted me a hat and is knitting me a scarf out of no reason, just because she likes me and thinks I'm a great guy--and she's a Mom to all of us and she's a fantastic woman. So I felt the safest with her. Her husband will probably also not freak out too, too much--but I can tell he sometimes gets uncomfortable with homosexual things. And our Geekmates in the cipher, one is a church-working mid-American Christian. Another is a slightly effeminate single black fella transplanted down there. Another is a brilliant satirist young feller, single and unlucky at love, living with mental illness. Lastly is a handsome young stud-nerd who is just a few degrees of seperation away from normal. He's like the Marilyn of this Munster family.

They are the faces that I see so often whenever I fear rejection the hardest. They are the ones who project all sorts of ladykilling antics on me to live out their fantasies. And they are the ones who, if a Gay Me repulses them, will hurt like a bitch. A biiiiitch. And no amount of "Well fuck that guy!"'s will make the pain vanish. I'm getting choked up right now just contemplating it.

But yeah. I keep saying it and it keeps being true. I can't stay like this, frozen and frightened and alone and lonely. Since the Amazing Mister Cosplaying Superhero Comic Nerd He-Man Gay Dude hasn't come to sweep me off my feet and out of my closet, I'm going to have to do it the slow hard way, on my own.

I have to take on the identity for everybody to see.

Then I have to start living out in the open.

Because I'm dying here in the dark.

No Worse

Which translates to "The Same."

The holidays were WAY quiet, despite many invites to go places to celebrate. One invitation I had was to go out to Ohio and share the integration my geek buddy's teenage son back into his life. He's already married with a single-digit kiddo from but the first child he had out of wedlock was far from his life due to distance and the child's mother. Now he's getting to know his teenage son through things like Twitter (before all our eyes) and business trips that he turns into personal trips, and the son is all for it because, well, the boy's gay and probably needs all the family he can get.

And thus why I turned the invitation down. It was a family affair, one of love and acceptance of a gay youth. It was something I wanted personally -- too much. I wanted it to apply to myself and I just couldn't let myself steal this kid's thunder, because when I do finally meet my geek buddy, I'm going to out myself. I feel he deserves to know for all the personal that he shares with me (us), and for all the affection he has shown me.

So far, it seems to work. Those who I love, to whom I came out to, loves me still. I doubt the streak would end with this guy because, hello, he just welcomed his gay son into his life with much fanfare (letter of announcement, invitations, everything). So you'll probably agree, when I make my diva move, it shouldn't be at the expense of someone else's.

And then on top on it, the Blizzard of '10 hit day after Crimmas. No more ice-driving for me! One near-death experience was plenty enough.

I also had an invite to go over to MFTD's family's house on Christmas Day for din-din. I din-din't. It was another family shindig that I didn't feel I was an actual member of. Plus there's this whole "by the way, the guy 10 years older than your son, who has known him since he's 15, who strongly influenced him to go away to Missouri and changed his life, (in some parts for the better-hello, he's a Doctor now)--well yeah, you know THAT guy ... ? He's gay."

Now, for New Year's Eve, I had the invite which I've enjoyed two years in the past--My Geek Celebrity's house. (Yes, I like that. I haven't called him this before, but I've referred to him before. He's the geek guy who is the lowest-key gay dude I've ever known. He runs a podcast with his loud, celebrity-seeking, name-dropping, attention-whore co-host. My Geek Celebrity has much more class than that, although thanks to the efforts of his co-host, he now enjoys a moderate level of geek fame and influence.

THIS is the guy who I've gone to the movies with on lots of occasions, and sometimes just he and I, and each time I always think--"Tell this guy! Maybe you and he will hook up!" except he's not 'manly' enough for me either. Mind you, I think I'm way more effeminate than he is, but he's not got those 'turn me on' qualities that would cause me to drop my guards and tell my WHOLE NYC GEEK COMMUNITY that I'm gay.

And let me add a new detail (finally!) I've started drinking.

Okay, well, not a lot of drinking. But ever since I've had a few successful whiskey sours, I've been lured by the memory of the taste to mix them at home and just drink them here. So twice I've had an evening polishing off one of those hand-sized, $7 bottles of whiskey mixed in with various amounts of Mango Lemonades and Crystal Lights.

So on New Year's Eve, with plans to go to My Geek Celebrity's place for festivities, and meeting up with My Con Buddy (the one I think is so handsome, and yet is so straight), for my warm-up drank activities, I chose Jim Beam. Is it "a fifth" that comes in the hand-sized flat bottle? Well whatevs, I drained it by 7:30. Then I set off toward the party. Then I realized My Con Buddy was still handsome and still straight. And I still haven't told him I'm gay. Nor My Celebrity Geek. And I realized too that they both had excellent positions in life. And that they were going to celebrate for the New Year because why not? Life was good!

For them.

But for me? In mid-travel, while fetching some Starbucks latte and a slice of pizza to prevent totally TOTAL drunkness, I realized I was suddenly, amazingly blindingly pissed off beyond all measure. I suddenly didn't want to "celebrate" a fucking thing.

"Celebrate?" HA!!!!!!!!! Celebrate WHAT?

Well, that was New Years Eve. I texted My Con Buddy and let him know I was changing my mind and so I went home and I played ChampionsOnline because Fuck Them, That's Why.

New Year's Day came and I had no hangover or regrets and it was another opportunity to be at peace with no one else's attention needing mine, so I played more ChampionsOnline for hours and hours and that's how I spent the holidays.

No better but no worse.

And that's just my life. It's redeemable, in theory, but ... yeah. Not so much right now.

But wow. For a while back then, I sure did come close, didn't I? Can that be my consolation prize?

"how things are"

Came back a few minutes ago from My Con Buddy's invite to run out and meet him for a bite to eat. He's the guy I drove down to NC with, and went with him to join a gym, and we've done a classic movie, and attended a podcast recording event, and who I told everything in my history to except me being gay. ("Con" as in "comic convention", not as in "he's served time in prison"). He's (one of) the handsome budd(ies) I have that I hope somehow are as gay as me and are hiding it like I am, and are waiting for me to say the right thing before they'll take me in their arms.

Last week we went out to see a concert. He had an extra ticket because he wanted to invite this girl at work and she became unavailable. So, yeah, he's still hetereo. No indie flick, "best-friend comes out and reveals his true love for the hero" ending to this story. But pre-show, while we were eating bagels in the window of a Williamsburg deli (and yes, I can't lie--it was as cool as it sounds) who walks by on the street except none other than My First Man Date.

Mind you, I haven't spoken to him since he reached out to me in my silence. But there he went on by. Far as I know, he could have been going home--I never knew his actual address, although I do remember his neighborhood, and I didn't mark it as being near Williamsburg. But yeah, there he went. And there I sat with my straight friend, My Con Buddy, who I haven't been able to tell that I'm gay to. And I waited for the panic attack to set in. And oddly, it didn't.

And I thought, not for the first time, that if there's a God, He's writing my life like we write cable drama. Because WHAT?! REALLY?! And my next thought was, what if My First Man Date saw me sitting there with my handsome friend? Well, of course he'd think I was on another date. And he'd want to be introduced, if for no other reason than to verify that I was doing well and getting on with my dating life after it not working out with him (because honestly, My First Man Date is THAT nice--albeit also being a little horndog). And what would I then say to My Con Buddy, seeing an "obvious" gay man greet me warmly and possibly take for granted that I'm on another date with a dude? Well, I'd have to come out, wouldn't I? And what if I did? Would I lose My Con Buddy? And if I did, shouldn't I Cee-Lo Green his ass to the curb?

Hey, if it was that easy, I'd be out of the closet.

One thing My Con Buddy hasn't done point blank is ask me about my taste in women. Of course, I'VE done the asking of his taste, for my own curiosity sake. He either already highly supects I'm for the dudes and doesn't want it confirmed, or he doesn't really care and would prefer not to know anyway. I can't think of a third alternative. Either way, I don't feel like it's a good idea to reveal as I've done with some of my married geek buddies. I figure, I suppose, that since they're married, they could feel less threatened by me (although I know in my heart of hearts that I wanted them to confess their lust for me despite their statusi). The married ones accept me. I dunno if the single ones hunting ladies would accept me the same way. ESPECIALLY if they might be a little gay themselves but want it even less than I do.

So all this is to say that the "how things are" of my life are not so good. I'm still repressed and afraid. I'm still frustrated and ashamed (evidently). And although I'm doing fun things, thanks to My Con Buddy, I'm lonely. (And I miss Ned).

Wish I had better news, but this misery is comfortable and it seems to be the destination of my choice. Even when I considered calling My First Man Date to tell him I saw him in Williamsburg, I opted out of that too. I just want it all to go away. But it doesn't. So I do.

Before I Run Out The Door ...

...heh. NYC Marathon was today. So my title is funny. But not what I meant.

I'm going to Brooklyn to the convention that totally snuck up on me this year. I've been sick like dog for the past two days, and I cancelled all of yesterday's appointments, and this mornings'. And I had this afternoon's cancel on me, so I was suddenly freed up.

Freed up to go to this Brooklyn convention.

Which just happens to be the place I saw THIS GUY (pictured).
Which is right now the absolute only reason I'm going back to this place.

So I wanted to say that yes, if I find this guy today, I'm going to talk to him and see what's what.

And if he's gay, and available, and likes me, then I am ready to tear the door off my closet and get on with My Life As A Gay Man.

Otherwise, it'll be business as usual, which I will be blogging about undoubtedly. Just not as much.

Wish me luck.

Byeee..!



Hiiiiyeee....!

Well, romantically, it was a bust. I haven't seen the Dream Hunk since the last Brooklyn Convention, despite all the conventions I've been to between then and now. He's gone. Practically forever, as far as I need to be concerned. It was already a big chance that someone as gorgeous as him would be 1) single 2)available 3)gay and 4)attracted to me. I interpreted those looks he kept giving me as a 'come hither' glance, but whatever. Even if he wanted me then, I wasn't really ready. A year later I think I am, but I'm probably not really. I mean, I'm like a teenage girl holding out for Brad Pitt to leave Angelina. Foolish. Picky and foolish. (For the record, Brad Pitt is not my type. Too much lip-meat.)

Anyway.

Still nothing.

Wait, a little something ... my First Man Date reached out to me again a few days ago and I didn't respond. Prolly because I want this all to go away and I do want to retreat into my shell. Which is what he suspects. And you see, the 'want to' is very powerful. Like every one of my female dates/girlfriends have done, I need one of these gorgeous hunky men to approach me. And for that to happen, I have to be where they are. Which means a gay bar, which I've learned exists within walking distance. Or a gay society club. Or ... whatever. This is just ridiculous. Stupid stupid stupid.

Whatever.

Monosexual

So I can blog again now that I haven't caused NYC's 2nd gay-related suicide leap. I know. That's not funny. But hey. I'm not laughing at, but with. I'm just as gay as they are and I feel the same type of isolation and fear as they do. All those "It Gets Better" messages apply to me even though I'm 46-plus-two-weeks old. What keeps me from suicide is a fear of the unknown and a suspicion that yeah--it will get better.

I mean hey, it got better for My First Man Date, anyways. After our last date he was able to find a guy who he likes a lot, and who likes him a lot. He even said that he waited until their fourth date to get busy, and he learned that from me! So folks, see? Instead of driving him to the point of suicide by depriving him of my gorgeous self, I helped him into a relationship that he's happier with than he would have been with me. My Hero Friend's advice was spot on.

Isn't that great?

Yup. That's great.

Great.

So.

I'm currently blogging between doing wash and the supervision that my Part-Time Gig demands of me (they want me to write someone up) and I ran into Hunky Married HeteroDad Neighbor in the laundry as I usually do when I do the wash. A head taller than me, wide shoulders, smiling eyes, always having one of his two kids in tow, friendly and responsive with them, thus far has been in various states of undress--just a real day-off casual working man's Ward Cleaver.

And I think to myself, "How did I get here?"

It seems like it's not that I'm gay--it's like I'm a woman. I don't want a gay man...I want a man.

Problem is, I'm not blessed with the estrogen that makes women soft, receptive, accepting, and supportive (well, wait--I can do supportive real well actually). But I'm stuck on stupid. I don't want just any man, be he pudgy, skinny or whatever. I want a bruiser. I want a roughneck. Gruff and rumbly. I only want one type of man. A physical type. And these are the times when I can easily just really hate myself.

Still, I'm not diving off of any bridge and letting my body be tweeted about by my
Inwood neighbors as it washes ashore. I want more for myself and my life--it just feels like I'm not able to get any of it.

It's like I'm not a homosexual--I'm a monosexual.

PostScript;
I was alerted to this article. I need to be this guy. Couldn't I still please have a wife?