On Friday, I met up with D. (she had a half day) and walked around Soho. My mission was to head to Station A (the Apple Store) and hand in an application for part-time retail work. Even though I applied online, applying through the store would be more proactive than waiting around for their HR department; crossing my fingers now.
That night, I ditched D. and met up with fellow bloggers Riye and the fash mag slag, Jon (his recount), for dinner and 'whatever'. 'Whatever' turned out to be dessert at Veniero's, where Jon started on his 'coffee consumption brigade'. After discussing the state of the world economics, the tsunami, and beanie babies, we decided it was time to have fun and loosen up.. with alcohol! Looking back, I realized that it really was 'all about me' that night. Read more [+/-]
Our first stop was the Phoenix. Riye suggested it because it was a gay bar in the area AND I've never been there. As it turns out, it's not very different than the 'straight' bars. People separated into their social groups having drinks. Riye said it isn't a 'pick-uppy' kind of place; which was disappointing because I definitely was feeling 'pick-uppy'.
While Riye and Jon were enjoying the music and each other's company, I listened with one ear while scoping the joint to see which cute little lamb veered from the pack for me to pounce on. I explained it has something to do with me just coming 'out' and being social. Riye and Jon, not sharing the same enthusiasm, groaned "You make [us] feel so old." Actually, I was looking for my first boytoyfriend; and like applying to the Apple Store, I try to be proactive.
We left, with only me saying 'Hi' to one person who all but ignored me, and headed to Starlight; again another place I've never been to. The bouncer thought I looked like someone else, which universally means he wanted to be my 'baby daddy' (score!). Inside was packed! but only the front; the back had more space but was equally stuffy, so we left. Now, I don't mind if cute hotties are packed together by the door, because they make it a pleasure to 'make my way through them'. But if you're of the 'not that cute' kind, please be considerate and move your fat ass to the back!
We had a nightcap at Yakka Café and ended the night around 4am; and after Jon had 17 more cups of coffee. Looking back, I realized that I started every other sentence with some form of 'I ...' Isn't that so conceited?
Back Online, Back In Time
Coming off of a late Friday, I didn't get up until 2pm on Saturday. "Forget about going to the gym," I thought. Staying over in Chinatown (since the Internet connection in Queens was on the fritz), I got my online fix using my sister's computer. That night, as I was about to go out to meet R., I felt like I was about to go back in time. Read more [+/-]
R. invited me to Bogarts. He and a whole bunch of straighties were going to party it up. I felt like going to these parties would be like stepping back into a time where I was still in the closet. But I reminded myself that I wasn't pressured to act straight anymore because R. knew I was gay. And as for the other people that were there, I didn't care if they knew or not. What I did worry about is if they came up to me and asked those 'You're gay?' questions. And, surprise, someone did.
Don't get me wrong, I don't mind discussing any of that over a cup of coffee, dinner, or even at the mall. But imagine me holding a Sapphire Tonic screaming "..that's when I realized I liked penises more than vaginas," into someone's ear over the music of Missy Elliot; and then having to repeat it. In my opinon, not the optimal situation for discussion.
My Only Resolution
I don't make New Years resolutions. My theory is if bad situations don't run on the holiday schedule, neither does your ability to improve your life. Januaray 1st is arbitrary; and if you think about it, it's like a slap in the face for the Lunar Calendar. ;)
Anyway, I like the t-shirt, so instead of a resolution, I remind myself not to look back. Don't look back in anger* to be precise; no regrets. Learn from the past (those who don't are bound to repeat it). Yet, reading this NYTimes article by Benoit Denizet-Lewis [via towleroad, gawker] I can't help but feel a little regret for not coming out in college. Now I think of all the missed opportunites of joining a fraternity and having drunken gay frat-boy lovin. sigh. I guess can still attend keggers...