Blizzard, Food, Lips

Blizzard of '05.

Some of my weekend plans were stopped short because of the freezing temperature and falling snow.  After shoveling, I took a stroll around my block to find it eerily deserted.  That's to be expected of course, as by 8 pm Saturday night, snow had been falling for 10 hours.

Slowly, I walked in the middle of the street, admiring the emptiness of what would otherwise be a busy with cars, trucks, and ambulances.  I peeked through windows as I passed, gazing at families gathered around the dinner table, sharing in each other's company.  The man with the red sweater said something and everyone laughs.  It's nice to know that even though things might not work out the way you planned, there's still some things you can depend on; like friends, family, and Chinese take-out.

Shabu shabu

Luckily for me, new plans were in the mix.  On Sunday, my friend J.L. (and former intern buddy) came into Flushing and we had shabu shabu for dinner.  For those unfamiliar, it's a cuisine where you boil your food in a pot of broth then dip into sauces before eating.  This guarantees freshness and ingesting a good amount of soy sauce.  White people, think Asian fondue.

She had also invited another friend from work, whom in turn invited two others.  It turns out that we all went to the same university.  Without going too deep into it, these Asians were the type of people I spent four years avoiding on campus (as did J.L.), only to be stuck eating dinner with them.  There's nothing wrong with them, we have different personalities that don't click.  They'll say I'm Americanized, I'll say they don't understand sarcasm, dark humor, or English; that sort of thing.  I made it through dinner relatively mentally unscathed and headed to Starbucks with J.L. to laugh at the people we just had dinner with, hot chocolate and a pumpkin spice mocha to warm our hands.

Mile Snow Road

Walking home from dinner, I came to realize how happy I truely was.  I tend to reflect on my life on this route.  It's been a month since I came out of the closet, and I've met so many wonderful people and had so many wonderful experiences already.

From them, I've learned (sometimes unsolicited) about sex, meeting men, relationships, tricks and hustlers, having fun (but not too much), teeth and blow jobs, 'men for sex' websites, go-go dancing, lip balm, and kissing.  

They are the gay mentors, and more importantly, friends I've always felt I was missing.  I can't imagine my life without them.  I love you guys.

Speaking of Kissing...

And now to help you get the taste of vomit from your mouth, I'm giving you readers a chance to get something sweet from me.

I was recently asked if I was a good kisser (after regaling the story of how the asshole rejected me).  Frankly, the only other two people I've kissed were female, one on the brink of alcohol poisoning, the other on the brink of jealous revenge.  Not the best people to ask for an opinion.

That's where you come in.  Guess which set of lips are mine.  If you get that right, I will reward you with a smoocheroo, and you can help determine how well I kiss.

As a bonus, if you can guess the owners of three, I will get you to first base (no, that's not sex Riye).  If you can guess all five, you will get what I call "7 minutes in Gay Heaven" in the closet of your choice.  Believe me, it'll be a lot better than a trophy.

Here's a hint: two of them are celebrities, the other two are bloggers.  And I'm not a slut.  Desperate? maybe.