Okay, so it's late at night and I'm listening to Darren Hayes' cover of Madonna's "Angel", which is amazing by the way.
I got back a couple of an hours from dinner with an old friend that I thought was a date. Actually, I didn't originally think it was a date until my best friend convinced that this guy was totally into me.
And now I'm at home listening to covers of old '80s songs.
It started out innocently enough, but I was totally treating this like it was a date. Or it was a date and I blew it...I don't know what's worse.
Right now I'm doing the playwriting thing well. I'm doing the taking care of my Dad thing well. I just am not doing the dating thing well. Actually, I haven't really ventured into dating town since I tried to date another friend, New Haven, all of those months ago. This is where I got tricked, this guy is super fucking hot and looks better than he did when I knew him.
Damn those guys who are peaking later in life!
This is what makes me want to retreat into my little hermit village and just be quiet. I think I also want to just take my hip hop classes and shut the fuck up. I don't know why I'm so upset about this...I just feel like a fool. This guy will be a friend perhaps. He's a really nice guy, but it's funny. It left me feeling like the uncool kid I was in high school.
Lesson: Don't try to date people you knew a long time ago. Ugh...I can feel the braces on my teeth.
Funny how you think you've gotten over things. THIS is why I shouldn't stop writing. It's when real life intervenes that I feel like I'm not ready to deal with things like dating. Then I get crazy ideas like I'm ready to start thinking about someone else in my life.
Sex is easy. It's quick and soon forgotten. But I know I don't just want sex. I want to make a life with someone. Not that I was thinking I wanted to make a life with this person...but he was hot and nice. And that's the kind of comfort food that sounded good to me.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Writers are Babies
And I'm one of them. I admit it. Wholeheartedly.
Now. Before this experience of writing this new play, I always tried to be "mature" and not get upset. Now I just take that as a sign that I'm GIVING. Of course I take it personally. It's my guts out there for judgment.
I had a play reading last night of a new play I wrote called THE SNAKE CHARMER, which takes place over three different time periods: 1868, 1978 and 2011. It has an extremely talented painter who's obsessed with a new subject. It's got a closeted go-go dancer and his crushed out best friend. And an art history teacher who meets a student who breathes new life into her world. Lots of criss crossing, ricocheting and rebounding of characters, actors and time periods.
Watching the play last night I had no idea I had put so many personal things into it. I mean...I obviously knew I was dealing with some things that are personal...but watching it all in one sitting with an audience made it clear. I felt very exposed.
But it was a good kind of exposure because I've gotten a lot of comments and positive feedback from friends. My friend Susan said that my writing has matured and that I'm growing up as a writer. My friends Gina and Aurorae said the coolest things about the play and the themes it brought up. My friend Karen was impressed and called some of the intersecting "genius."
What? Crazy.
But this is what I've decided. I'm not doing this unless I can be vulnerable. Because life's not worth living if you're not going to give your all. As much as it was uncomfortable at the time, being in a rehearsal room with a bunch of actors and really tearing apart something that I had written...the end result was amazing. And not just because of compliments. This is a play that means something to me. It's not something I wrote because I'm trying to get a job. This is something that has come out of me. And I don't want to write something unless it has meaning for me.
It's just not worth it. This blog (as I'm wrapping it up soon) has meaning for me. It's not fluff. It's what's going on with my life on a minute by minute basis. It's the sublime to the ridiculous, but it's all me.
And I've just been writing things lately that don't have that sort of meaning for me. The plays, yes. But the TV stuff just doesn't mean anything to me. I want to work as a TV writer and make a living that way, but writing samples solely for the purpose of just selling...not interesting. Those have to have meaning too.
But right now I'm just writing the things that have meaning. I've got another reading/workshop coming up soon in the fall for this play I've been dying to get back to that's all about various Asian stereotypes, but not in a broad way...but in a very serious way. Although, there are darkly comedic moments to it as well. But it's a good old fashioned one room family drama in the tradition of an O'Neill play. Kind of.
And I'm sure because there's so much that's personal about that play that I'll be a baby about that one as well.
I wouldn't have it any other way.
Now. Before this experience of writing this new play, I always tried to be "mature" and not get upset. Now I just take that as a sign that I'm GIVING. Of course I take it personally. It's my guts out there for judgment.
I had a play reading last night of a new play I wrote called THE SNAKE CHARMER, which takes place over three different time periods: 1868, 1978 and 2011. It has an extremely talented painter who's obsessed with a new subject. It's got a closeted go-go dancer and his crushed out best friend. And an art history teacher who meets a student who breathes new life into her world. Lots of criss crossing, ricocheting and rebounding of characters, actors and time periods.
Watching the play last night I had no idea I had put so many personal things into it. I mean...I obviously knew I was dealing with some things that are personal...but watching it all in one sitting with an audience made it clear. I felt very exposed.
But it was a good kind of exposure because I've gotten a lot of comments and positive feedback from friends. My friend Susan said that my writing has matured and that I'm growing up as a writer. My friends Gina and Aurorae said the coolest things about the play and the themes it brought up. My friend Karen was impressed and called some of the intersecting "genius."
What? Crazy.
But this is what I've decided. I'm not doing this unless I can be vulnerable. Because life's not worth living if you're not going to give your all. As much as it was uncomfortable at the time, being in a rehearsal room with a bunch of actors and really tearing apart something that I had written...the end result was amazing. And not just because of compliments. This is a play that means something to me. It's not something I wrote because I'm trying to get a job. This is something that has come out of me. And I don't want to write something unless it has meaning for me.
It's just not worth it. This blog (as I'm wrapping it up soon) has meaning for me. It's not fluff. It's what's going on with my life on a minute by minute basis. It's the sublime to the ridiculous, but it's all me.
And I've just been writing things lately that don't have that sort of meaning for me. The plays, yes. But the TV stuff just doesn't mean anything to me. I want to work as a TV writer and make a living that way, but writing samples solely for the purpose of just selling...not interesting. Those have to have meaning too.
But right now I'm just writing the things that have meaning. I've got another reading/workshop coming up soon in the fall for this play I've been dying to get back to that's all about various Asian stereotypes, but not in a broad way...but in a very serious way. Although, there are darkly comedic moments to it as well. But it's a good old fashioned one room family drama in the tradition of an O'Neill play. Kind of.
And I'm sure because there's so much that's personal about that play that I'll be a baby about that one as well.
I wouldn't have it any other way.
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Lazy Afternoon
It's a lazy afternoon
And the beetle bugs are zooming
And the tulip trees are blooming
And there's not another human in view but us two
It's a lazy afternoon
And the farmer leaves his reaping
In the meadow cows are sleeping
And the speckled trouts stop leaping upstream as we dream
A far pink cloud hangs over a hill
Unfolding like a rose
If you hold my hand and sit real still
You can hear the grass as it grows
It's a hazy afternoon
And I know a place that's quiet except for daisies running riot
And there's no one passing by it to see
Come spend this lazy afternoon with me
Come spend this lazy afternoon with me
Lazy afternoon
It's a hazy afternoon
And I know a place that's quiet except for daisies running riot
And there's no one passing by it to see
Come spend this lazy afternoon with me, with me
Lazy afternoons have been on my mind. You know, those great days where you just spend the day in bed or watch silly movies on the TV. Or having sex. Well, that technically wouldn't be all that lazy because if it's good, you're putting a ton of effort into it. You can always be lazy afterwards.
But one of those days where you just make brunch, maybe head to the farmer's market, give each other backrubs, take a nap and then make dinner. Open up a great bottle of red and go to bed early. That sounds nice.
I don't know if that means I'm ready to be in a relationship again or even to start dating. I love that I'm busy with my play and that I'm taking these great dance classes and that I have time for the gym. I love having time for me. It's really fantastic. It might be nice to have someone to share it with from time to time.. But I'm not really interested in giving myself up to someone again. Ever.
But have I figured out how to have a different relationship?
It probably would be hard to know until I was in another relationship, I guess. But I'm in no rush. Until then...I'll be having my own lazy afternoons or busy afternoons. Whatever I'm in the mood for.
And the beetle bugs are zooming
And the tulip trees are blooming
And there's not another human in view but us two
It's a lazy afternoon
And the farmer leaves his reaping
In the meadow cows are sleeping
And the speckled trouts stop leaping upstream as we dream
A far pink cloud hangs over a hill
Unfolding like a rose
If you hold my hand and sit real still
You can hear the grass as it grows
It's a hazy afternoon
And I know a place that's quiet except for daisies running riot
And there's no one passing by it to see
Come spend this lazy afternoon with me
Come spend this lazy afternoon with me
Lazy afternoon
It's a hazy afternoon
And I know a place that's quiet except for daisies running riot
And there's no one passing by it to see
Come spend this lazy afternoon with me, with me
Lazy afternoons have been on my mind. You know, those great days where you just spend the day in bed or watch silly movies on the TV. Or having sex. Well, that technically wouldn't be all that lazy because if it's good, you're putting a ton of effort into it. You can always be lazy afterwards.
But one of those days where you just make brunch, maybe head to the farmer's market, give each other backrubs, take a nap and then make dinner. Open up a great bottle of red and go to bed early. That sounds nice.
I don't know if that means I'm ready to be in a relationship again or even to start dating. I love that I'm busy with my play and that I'm taking these great dance classes and that I have time for the gym. I love having time for me. It's really fantastic. It might be nice to have someone to share it with from time to time.. But I'm not really interested in giving myself up to someone again. Ever.
But have I figured out how to have a different relationship?
It probably would be hard to know until I was in another relationship, I guess. But I'm in no rush. Until then...I'll be having my own lazy afternoons or busy afternoons. Whatever I'm in the mood for.
Writing
It's funny. I have written three drafts of this new play in five weeks and on a day that I'm supposed to be taking a break, I decide that I have to write more blog entries. I feel lost if I'm not writing. It's how I make my way throughout this world. It's like not walking. I have to get exercise.
I was driving down California in Pasadena today and something about that street really moves me. It's idyllic, of course. The tree lined streets and the big houses. But I can really calm down. It quiets me, I suppose.
I started writing when I was in the seventh grade. My teacher, Miss Russell, a very fat woman who could have been an unhappy lesbian, encouraged us to start writing fiction. At the time I was into comic books: The X-Men and the Fantastic Four especially. I really responded to the family drama aspect of it, although I'm sure I wouldn't have been able to articulate that at the time. I loved that these people had superpowers and still reacted to life as normal people would - with motivation, with their own personal issues and sometimes they wouldn't make the best decisions. I liked the human aspect of these comic books.
Then Mr. Molinelli encouraged me to write when I took his fiction writing class. Then Alyce Miller in college loved one of my short stories and it was published in the Santa Clara review probably my sophomore year. Then I discovered plays. I loved the theatre but I was a shitty actor. And I was an okay dancer at the time, but I loved to write. And the most amazing human being named Erik Ehn came to my school to teach me. And he changed my life. I became a playwright at the tender age of 20.
And since then I've done a lot of writing. I've written plays and I've gone to grad school and I got interested in TV. Then I started writing lots of specs. Will and Grace, Sex and the City, The Bernie Mac Show, Two and a Half Men, Entourage, The New Adventures of Old Christine, The Office, 30 Rock, and Modern Family. And countless spec pilots. On and on and on...
For a while writing wasn't about how I saw the world. It was a way to make money. To get known to get opportunities to write what I care about. Then I wrote a play called "On the Subject of Lilla" about my grandmother and my Dad and an abusive relationship that started out in one generation and affected another relationship between father and daughter years later. People loved it. My ex loved it. My friends loved it but no one wanted to produce it. So I went back to try and do the TV thing.
Then one day years later I realized that I had about two or three play ideas stockpiled that I had put off because I was working on TV spec pilots that weren't seeing the light of day. So I wrote a play called "Curse of the Asian Child" that was about a woman who had sex with her teenage son years earlier and what happens when her other children, now adults, find out. Then I wrote an adaptation of Medea I had an idea for in grad school. Then I wrote another play about a man's search to find the animal who had given him his life back after cancer and it was called "Endanger'd Species." All of those are sitting in a drawer somewhere. But I had written them over the course of a year.
Then I had this idea for a play based on a painting I saw. "The Snake Charmer" by Jean-Leon Gerome. The image of a young naked brown boy from the back holding a snake and trying to make money as older men sat entertained seemed to affect something in me. So then I made up a story about a 17-year-old Jersey kid who dances for money in New York in 1978. And a story about an art history professor and her Mexican student from East LA. I threw in a fictionalized account of Gerome becoming obsessed with the subject of his painting. And that reading is happening on Monday.
When it came time for me to submit material to the O'Neill Playwrights Festival last year, "The Snake Charmer" wasn't done. So I decided to send in "Lilla" even though it was an older play but one I had never submitted to the O'Neill. Then it became a finalist. And it was because I didn't get into the O'Neill that I decided I wanted to be in a room working on a play with a bunch of actors and a director. So I gave myself a deadline and I wrote the play starting on May 20th. Then turned in a finished draft to my director around June 9th or 10th. Then we read it, I took notes. Got notes from Casey, my director. Wrote a new draft up to page 99 and turned it in the following week. And while I was working on it, my father was admitted to the hospital because of his chronic congestive heart failure and kidney problems. His lungs were filling with fluid. Then I had rehearsal and it went poorly. The modern storyline still wasn't working. I cried after rehearsal because it felt like my world was crumbling. But something had stirred in me after my breakdown and it was with renewed focus that I started draft number three. And that's what we're going in with tomorrow.
Then in the Fall I'm going to workshop "Curse of the Asian Child" at this NYU Grad Actors Showcase. With one of my fave actresses and an all Asian cast. So I'll start that rewrite right after we finish our workshop with this play. Then there's the play I want to write about a band writing an album. And I need to go back to Endanger'd Species at some point.
I was also working on this Art Thieves Pilot in the winter and spring that I did six drafts of. But I'm just not happy with it. So I might make that a different pilot about superheroes.
I'm learning to see the world again through my writing. It's not like I don't want to make a living at it, but more than that I want my life to be enriched because of my writing. That's ultimately more important and I believe that encompasses the same goals I had before and more.
I hate writers who write about writing...but look at me, I just did it. Raspberries!
I was driving down California in Pasadena today and something about that street really moves me. It's idyllic, of course. The tree lined streets and the big houses. But I can really calm down. It quiets me, I suppose.
I started writing when I was in the seventh grade. My teacher, Miss Russell, a very fat woman who could have been an unhappy lesbian, encouraged us to start writing fiction. At the time I was into comic books: The X-Men and the Fantastic Four especially. I really responded to the family drama aspect of it, although I'm sure I wouldn't have been able to articulate that at the time. I loved that these people had superpowers and still reacted to life as normal people would - with motivation, with their own personal issues and sometimes they wouldn't make the best decisions. I liked the human aspect of these comic books.
Then Mr. Molinelli encouraged me to write when I took his fiction writing class. Then Alyce Miller in college loved one of my short stories and it was published in the Santa Clara review probably my sophomore year. Then I discovered plays. I loved the theatre but I was a shitty actor. And I was an okay dancer at the time, but I loved to write. And the most amazing human being named Erik Ehn came to my school to teach me. And he changed my life. I became a playwright at the tender age of 20.
And since then I've done a lot of writing. I've written plays and I've gone to grad school and I got interested in TV. Then I started writing lots of specs. Will and Grace, Sex and the City, The Bernie Mac Show, Two and a Half Men, Entourage, The New Adventures of Old Christine, The Office, 30 Rock, and Modern Family. And countless spec pilots. On and on and on...
For a while writing wasn't about how I saw the world. It was a way to make money. To get known to get opportunities to write what I care about. Then I wrote a play called "On the Subject of Lilla" about my grandmother and my Dad and an abusive relationship that started out in one generation and affected another relationship between father and daughter years later. People loved it. My ex loved it. My friends loved it but no one wanted to produce it. So I went back to try and do the TV thing.
Then one day years later I realized that I had about two or three play ideas stockpiled that I had put off because I was working on TV spec pilots that weren't seeing the light of day. So I wrote a play called "Curse of the Asian Child" that was about a woman who had sex with her teenage son years earlier and what happens when her other children, now adults, find out. Then I wrote an adaptation of Medea I had an idea for in grad school. Then I wrote another play about a man's search to find the animal who had given him his life back after cancer and it was called "Endanger'd Species." All of those are sitting in a drawer somewhere. But I had written them over the course of a year.
Then I had this idea for a play based on a painting I saw. "The Snake Charmer" by Jean-Leon Gerome. The image of a young naked brown boy from the back holding a snake and trying to make money as older men sat entertained seemed to affect something in me. So then I made up a story about a 17-year-old Jersey kid who dances for money in New York in 1978. And a story about an art history professor and her Mexican student from East LA. I threw in a fictionalized account of Gerome becoming obsessed with the subject of his painting. And that reading is happening on Monday.
When it came time for me to submit material to the O'Neill Playwrights Festival last year, "The Snake Charmer" wasn't done. So I decided to send in "Lilla" even though it was an older play but one I had never submitted to the O'Neill. Then it became a finalist. And it was because I didn't get into the O'Neill that I decided I wanted to be in a room working on a play with a bunch of actors and a director. So I gave myself a deadline and I wrote the play starting on May 20th. Then turned in a finished draft to my director around June 9th or 10th. Then we read it, I took notes. Got notes from Casey, my director. Wrote a new draft up to page 99 and turned it in the following week. And while I was working on it, my father was admitted to the hospital because of his chronic congestive heart failure and kidney problems. His lungs were filling with fluid. Then I had rehearsal and it went poorly. The modern storyline still wasn't working. I cried after rehearsal because it felt like my world was crumbling. But something had stirred in me after my breakdown and it was with renewed focus that I started draft number three. And that's what we're going in with tomorrow.
Then in the Fall I'm going to workshop "Curse of the Asian Child" at this NYU Grad Actors Showcase. With one of my fave actresses and an all Asian cast. So I'll start that rewrite right after we finish our workshop with this play. Then there's the play I want to write about a band writing an album. And I need to go back to Endanger'd Species at some point.
I was also working on this Art Thieves Pilot in the winter and spring that I did six drafts of. But I'm just not happy with it. So I might make that a different pilot about superheroes.
I'm learning to see the world again through my writing. It's not like I don't want to make a living at it, but more than that I want my life to be enriched because of my writing. That's ultimately more important and I believe that encompasses the same goals I had before and more.
I hate writers who write about writing...but look at me, I just did it. Raspberries!
Stillness
My friend Dave shared a quote from Yeats with me today:
We can make our minds so like still water that beings gather about us that they may
see, it may be, their own images, and so live for a moment with a clearer, perhaps even with a fiercer life because of our quiet.
I'm discovering the principle of stillness. Yes, it's very Zen. My first experiences with quiet have been in the childhood insomnia I suffered. I would just lie awake and be still, trying to let my mind drift off to sleep. But I remember being a kid who had a lot of nervous energy and it was hard for me to let my mind empty.
Then as I got older I found stillness in the repetition of my modern and ballet technique. The constant movement and repetition gave me a sense of calm and quiet.
I used to go for walks in New York City late at night. Those drunken walks home. Those were pretty quiet, except for all of the talking I'd do to myself.
The ocean is calming to me. Driving to work without the radio on.
Now my yoga classes. The moments before I get out of bed in the morning. Writing. All moments of stillness. But I'm still seeking more.
I hear more now. I hear when things are wrong. I hear when it's time to move on. My walking out of my house was stillness.
And I'm still here. In the stillness. In the quiet. Hearing the messages that life is trying to give me. Being here in my family home with my father and mother has my Dad recovers. Reconnecting with a high school friend who seems to understand the solitude I felt in high school. Because he felt it to.
All of these things are related and it's because I'm letting myself be still that I know that. Amazing. I'm connecting.
I'm going to start a daily prayer practice. A meditation. Learning to be quiet. I never liked talking much as a kid. The silence however felt like a trap. It felt like I had no choice but to be quiet because no one wanted to listen. I didn't feel heard. That's a different feeling from the feeling of stillness.
All the knowledge and wisdom already exists within, so why not listen to it?
We can make our minds so like still water that beings gather about us that they may
see, it may be, their own images, and so live for a moment with a clearer, perhaps even with a fiercer life because of our quiet.
I'm discovering the principle of stillness. Yes, it's very Zen. My first experiences with quiet have been in the childhood insomnia I suffered. I would just lie awake and be still, trying to let my mind drift off to sleep. But I remember being a kid who had a lot of nervous energy and it was hard for me to let my mind empty.
Then as I got older I found stillness in the repetition of my modern and ballet technique. The constant movement and repetition gave me a sense of calm and quiet.
I used to go for walks in New York City late at night. Those drunken walks home. Those were pretty quiet, except for all of the talking I'd do to myself.
The ocean is calming to me. Driving to work without the radio on.
Now my yoga classes. The moments before I get out of bed in the morning. Writing. All moments of stillness. But I'm still seeking more.
I hear more now. I hear when things are wrong. I hear when it's time to move on. My walking out of my house was stillness.
And I'm still here. In the stillness. In the quiet. Hearing the messages that life is trying to give me. Being here in my family home with my father and mother has my Dad recovers. Reconnecting with a high school friend who seems to understand the solitude I felt in high school. Because he felt it to.
All of these things are related and it's because I'm letting myself be still that I know that. Amazing. I'm connecting.
I'm going to start a daily prayer practice. A meditation. Learning to be quiet. I never liked talking much as a kid. The silence however felt like a trap. It felt like I had no choice but to be quiet because no one wanted to listen. I didn't feel heard. That's a different feeling from the feeling of stillness.
All the knowledge and wisdom already exists within, so why not listen to it?
Yoga: All About Nourishment
I'm officially using this blog to endorse Natasha's Saturday afternoon Seven Dollar Yoga class at Mission Street Yoga in South Pasadena. The last time I went I learned all about the power of the will. This time we talked about nourishment. The idea that challenges in our lives are nourishment to our soul.
There was a lot of noise in class today. My friend Nic and I were catching up. I was taking about my Dad who's sick. She was talking about her Dad who just passed away recently. And then we were shushed. I'm serious. Like we were in the library. We were shushed by an annoying older gentleman. And he wasn't annoying because he was old. He was annoying because two minutes later he yelled across the studio, "Hey Barry, how's it going?" And then he proceeded to hit on a woman at the end of class. "I promised you last time that I would give you my card. Here ya go!" I must have known how annoying he was because I turned to Nicole and said, "I am not going to stop talking."
But once we got into the practice, I felt like I was flying. I always get to this place in class where my mind just lets go. I remember hearing about how meditation and yoga is best when you empty your mind. But I never could do it. And now I'm finding myself just opening up. The stretches were opportunities for me to nourish my muscles. I was nourishing my soul by opening my heart and pushing harder.
I had a fantastic tree pose where I grew up and out. And in my dancer pose I had quite the arabesque.
I smiled at the cute boy across the room from me, only because Natasha had instructed us to. He smiled back only because she had asked him to. But it was still nice to be smiled at. . And it's always nice to smile during practice because that's the heart and the body opening up. I'm finding that my practice is better than ever. The stronger my body has gotten, the stronger my connection to my mind and spirit has been. Funny how that works. The poses felt effortless today, yet full of intention and commitment. I'm becoming a real yogi, what can I say?
There was a lot of noise in class today. My friend Nic and I were catching up. I was taking about my Dad who's sick. She was talking about her Dad who just passed away recently. And then we were shushed. I'm serious. Like we were in the library. We were shushed by an annoying older gentleman. And he wasn't annoying because he was old. He was annoying because two minutes later he yelled across the studio, "Hey Barry, how's it going?" And then he proceeded to hit on a woman at the end of class. "I promised you last time that I would give you my card. Here ya go!" I must have known how annoying he was because I turned to Nicole and said, "I am not going to stop talking."
But once we got into the practice, I felt like I was flying. I always get to this place in class where my mind just lets go. I remember hearing about how meditation and yoga is best when you empty your mind. But I never could do it. And now I'm finding myself just opening up. The stretches were opportunities for me to nourish my muscles. I was nourishing my soul by opening my heart and pushing harder.
I had a fantastic tree pose where I grew up and out. And in my dancer pose I had quite the arabesque.
I smiled at the cute boy across the room from me, only because Natasha had instructed us to. He smiled back only because she had asked him to. But it was still nice to be smiled at. . And it's always nice to smile during practice because that's the heart and the body opening up. I'm finding that my practice is better than ever. The stronger my body has gotten, the stronger my connection to my mind and spirit has been. Funny how that works. The poses felt effortless today, yet full of intention and commitment. I'm becoming a real yogi, what can I say?
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Fishing pics
Yes, I use Grindr. Don't judge. It's practically a dating site now anyway.
Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.5
The Mens Situation
I went to the Korean spa yesterday. To clear my head with all of the dad stuff going on. There was such a buffet of mens. And all types. It was actually fun to see the variety of body types, dick sizes (yes, I look) and attitudes.
And of course, this is just a microcosm of the variety out there in the world.
I had a fun hook up with a guy from the gym a while back. German. Hot. Uncut. Set designer. Smart. I showered in his open shower with a huge window so that the neighbors could see in.
Then there's my regular CJ who I've been whacking off with. He's a minister's son. And one of the hottest 40-plus bodies I've seen. The last time he had me over, we just cuddled all night. It was on a night where I needed to be held. It has been awhile since I've had intimacy.
I just had a funny encounter with a grindr find. Fun, silly, sarcastic Exchange. With cock shots.
And then there's this high school pal I'm having dinner with next week. Should be interesting.
And that's the mens in review. Check back for more updates.
And of course, this is just a microcosm of the variety out there in the world.
I had a fun hook up with a guy from the gym a while back. German. Hot. Uncut. Set designer. Smart. I showered in his open shower with a huge window so that the neighbors could see in.
Then there's my regular CJ who I've been whacking off with. He's a minister's son. And one of the hottest 40-plus bodies I've seen. The last time he had me over, we just cuddled all night. It was on a night where I needed to be held. It has been awhile since I've had intimacy.
I just had a funny encounter with a grindr find. Fun, silly, sarcastic Exchange. With cock shots.
And then there's this high school pal I'm having dinner with next week. Should be interesting.
And that's the mens in review. Check back for more updates.
Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.5
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Breakthrough
My Mom and I have spent some special time together this week as my Dad's been in the hospital with the after effects of Congestive Heart Failure and some kidney problems.
Today we had a major moment. We kind of crossed over from the kid/parent dynamic into being two adults who have had relationships with men who are emotionally shut down and who we have run around trying to make everything better.
I held my Mom as she admitted that she felt alone. It was a profound moment.
And I got to share my lessons of trying to make a relationship work with someone who refuses to deal with the things that are destroying his life. It was then that I felt grateful that I had those experiences so I could share my knowledge with my Mom. These are two different situations, but the common thread is that we have both felt that we could take care of everything and that our taking care of everything was emblematic of our strength. But, as I explained to her earlier, just because we have the strength doesn't mean we need to prove how strong we are nor does it mean that handling everything is our responsibility.
Although my Mom's best friend tried to prove to me other wise and implied that I didn't understand because a spouse or a family member was different from a friend or boyfriend. I had to let that one go...
But my Mommy and I had a big breakthrough in terms of our relationship. I think we understood each other as people who have hurt and been hurt because of our spouses. And for me, it's about breaking the cycle of my parents' life and experience. And my Mother finally seeing me step away and what I was stepping away from. My Mom has always been supportive of this break up. But she never equated it with what she was doing in her own marriage. Until today, I think.
I think it also brought the two of us closer together as a family.
It has been a busy past few days.
And it's the ex's 40th today. I sent him a brief text wishing him the best. It's done.
Today we had a major moment. We kind of crossed over from the kid/parent dynamic into being two adults who have had relationships with men who are emotionally shut down and who we have run around trying to make everything better.
I held my Mom as she admitted that she felt alone. It was a profound moment.
And I got to share my lessons of trying to make a relationship work with someone who refuses to deal with the things that are destroying his life. It was then that I felt grateful that I had those experiences so I could share my knowledge with my Mom. These are two different situations, but the common thread is that we have both felt that we could take care of everything and that our taking care of everything was emblematic of our strength. But, as I explained to her earlier, just because we have the strength doesn't mean we need to prove how strong we are nor does it mean that handling everything is our responsibility.
Although my Mom's best friend tried to prove to me other wise and implied that I didn't understand because a spouse or a family member was different from a friend or boyfriend. I had to let that one go...
But my Mommy and I had a big breakthrough in terms of our relationship. I think we understood each other as people who have hurt and been hurt because of our spouses. And for me, it's about breaking the cycle of my parents' life and experience. And my Mother finally seeing me step away and what I was stepping away from. My Mom has always been supportive of this break up. But she never equated it with what she was doing in her own marriage. Until today, I think.
I think it also brought the two of us closer together as a family.
It has been a busy past few days.
And it's the ex's 40th today. I sent him a brief text wishing him the best. It's done.
Breakdown
My Dad's been in the hospital for the past week almost and it's taken a bit of a toll. I had my high school reunion and I had a play rehearsal then on Sunday. I was a bit hung over, but also a bit sad due to the recent turn of events.
So when it came time to work in rehearsal and something wasn't working, I kind of lost it a bit on the inside. Then when I went to talk to my director after rehearsal, I lost it on the street.
Funny how sensitive we get when we're faced with life's trials. I always try to maintain a professional distance from everything. But when people said harsh, yet correct things about my play, I took it so personally. Like I was an idiot and like my actors and director thought I was a racist, bigoted, small-minded limited human being,which is the last thing in the world I want to give the impression of. In fact, I try to pride myself on the exact opposite. However, it just wasn't happening. I let everything get to me and I took everything personally.
For me, with my Dad in the hospital, I needed rehearsal to be a refuge. And what it was was a rehearsal and I have a section of my play that doesn't work. It was tough and difficult.
But I needed that breakthrough moment. I needed a moment to just release the hurt and pain and worry I was feeling regarding my Dad. But at the same time, I thought it was exactly the thing that needed to happen. I need to look at this part of the play and fix it and this breakdown or breakthrough might have been exactly the thing to push me.
Need to redirect my emotions.
So when it came time to work in rehearsal and something wasn't working, I kind of lost it a bit on the inside. Then when I went to talk to my director after rehearsal, I lost it on the street.
Funny how sensitive we get when we're faced with life's trials. I always try to maintain a professional distance from everything. But when people said harsh, yet correct things about my play, I took it so personally. Like I was an idiot and like my actors and director thought I was a racist, bigoted, small-minded limited human being,which is the last thing in the world I want to give the impression of. In fact, I try to pride myself on the exact opposite. However, it just wasn't happening. I let everything get to me and I took everything personally.
For me, with my Dad in the hospital, I needed rehearsal to be a refuge. And what it was was a rehearsal and I have a section of my play that doesn't work. It was tough and difficult.
But I needed that breakthrough moment. I needed a moment to just release the hurt and pain and worry I was feeling regarding my Dad. But at the same time, I thought it was exactly the thing that needed to happen. I need to look at this part of the play and fix it and this breakdown or breakthrough might have been exactly the thing to push me.
Need to redirect my emotions.
Monday, June 20, 2011
My High School Reunion
I went to my high school reunion this past weekend. It was nothing like what I expected. Here's the top five things I expected:
1. To be the prettiest one there.
2. To have some sort of "aha" moment with one of my classmates.
3. To see some fat, bald guys.
4. To leave early.
5. To laugh a lot.
Well, I have to say that most of the things I expected to happen didn't happen. I did have a great time, but it wasn't hostile or confrontational or mind blowing. It was just fun and sweet. But I will dish on the reunion and I will name names for the most part because hopefully only a select few will know who I'm talking about and where this reunion was.
Let me just debunk a few things here.
1. There were a couple of nominees for the cutest guys there. Greg Simon was fucking hot. He had a couple of pictures on Facebook years ago and one was shirtless. I always hoped he was gay, but he was hot and I don't care who reads this and tells him. He was hot. Also...there was another boy I thought was cute, but more on that shortly. But Greg Simon was tall, delicious, works out a lot and probably loves himself a ton. But that's okay. I love a man who's confident in bed...even if he's straight. Jeff Lorch was also adorable and a sweetheart.
2. My "aha" moment involves Chris Cragnotti and the fact that he was a bit lonely in high school. His best friend was Duffy Dashner, but when Duff wasn't at school, he was often alone. This kind of broke my heart, but also reminded me that we all had internal lives that were completely different than the ones we broadcast.
3. Yeah, I wanted to gossip about some fat baldies. But alas...none. My friend Sean explained this to me a few days ago...we are from LA and it's because of that that we don't let ourselves go as much as guys from, say, Omaha. Jonathan O'Donnell and Chris Sheehan had lost hair, but still looked really. It seriously brought out their smiles and their eyes. Not fair. A few guys looked a bit bloated, but that was from too much college and early twenties partying. I won't name names there.
4. We kind of closed it down. I was too busy talking with Nick Capata, the brilliant artist of our high school. He has the same aloof laugh and sweet heart and the most sweet wife. When we were in the buffet line, I said hello to him and gave me the biggest hug. I got to tell him how much he meant to me in high school and that he gave me permission to be an artist. That was kind of worth the whole price of admission. We danced...I didn't make out with anyone, but the whole thing was a hoot.
5. Yes, I laughed a ton. I laughed at Mr. Thompson who made really stupid jokes and was the same guy he was when he was in charge of us. Dan Gray, Jeff Lorch and I tried to keep from cracking up as we waited at the bar with our drinks. I had a lovely time talking to a group of wives who looked like they could have their own reality show. I wasn't surprised when a certain self-involved now lawyer had no idea who I was, but I remember that he loved to take baths. I laughed my ass off at Jamie and Cynthia and how funny they were together. Michael Juarez looks the same to me with that smart-ass smirk. I don't remember how much we talked in high school, but I laughed just seeing him from across the table and we hugged.
So when I went to lunch with my friend Sean for a pre-reunion lunch with just the two of us...he mentioned that I shouldn't get my hopes up for any romantic prospects.
I'm happy to report that he might have been wrong. Nothing happened that night, but there was definitely someone there who surprised me. For sure. All in all, a good time. Lots of drinking. I got to kiss Rhoades Rader on the lips while we were taking our class picture. But that was right after he said hello to my friend Alanna. Missed my friend Nicole, who's married to my friend John, and wasn't feeling well that night. Marcus Daly was as adorable as ever: a tender, sweet bear of a man...just the way I remember him
1. To be the prettiest one there.
2. To have some sort of "aha" moment with one of my classmates.
3. To see some fat, bald guys.
4. To leave early.
5. To laugh a lot.
Well, I have to say that most of the things I expected to happen didn't happen. I did have a great time, but it wasn't hostile or confrontational or mind blowing. It was just fun and sweet. But I will dish on the reunion and I will name names for the most part because hopefully only a select few will know who I'm talking about and where this reunion was.
Let me just debunk a few things here.
1. There were a couple of nominees for the cutest guys there. Greg Simon was fucking hot. He had a couple of pictures on Facebook years ago and one was shirtless. I always hoped he was gay, but he was hot and I don't care who reads this and tells him. He was hot. Also...there was another boy I thought was cute, but more on that shortly. But Greg Simon was tall, delicious, works out a lot and probably loves himself a ton. But that's okay. I love a man who's confident in bed...even if he's straight. Jeff Lorch was also adorable and a sweetheart.
2. My "aha" moment involves Chris Cragnotti and the fact that he was a bit lonely in high school. His best friend was Duffy Dashner, but when Duff wasn't at school, he was often alone. This kind of broke my heart, but also reminded me that we all had internal lives that were completely different than the ones we broadcast.
3. Yeah, I wanted to gossip about some fat baldies. But alas...none. My friend Sean explained this to me a few days ago...we are from LA and it's because of that that we don't let ourselves go as much as guys from, say, Omaha. Jonathan O'Donnell and Chris Sheehan had lost hair, but still looked really. It seriously brought out their smiles and their eyes. Not fair. A few guys looked a bit bloated, but that was from too much college and early twenties partying. I won't name names there.
4. We kind of closed it down. I was too busy talking with Nick Capata, the brilliant artist of our high school. He has the same aloof laugh and sweet heart and the most sweet wife. When we were in the buffet line, I said hello to him and gave me the biggest hug. I got to tell him how much he meant to me in high school and that he gave me permission to be an artist. That was kind of worth the whole price of admission. We danced...I didn't make out with anyone, but the whole thing was a hoot.
5. Yes, I laughed a ton. I laughed at Mr. Thompson who made really stupid jokes and was the same guy he was when he was in charge of us. Dan Gray, Jeff Lorch and I tried to keep from cracking up as we waited at the bar with our drinks. I had a lovely time talking to a group of wives who looked like they could have their own reality show. I wasn't surprised when a certain self-involved now lawyer had no idea who I was, but I remember that he loved to take baths. I laughed my ass off at Jamie and Cynthia and how funny they were together. Michael Juarez looks the same to me with that smart-ass smirk. I don't remember how much we talked in high school, but I laughed just seeing him from across the table and we hugged.
So when I went to lunch with my friend Sean for a pre-reunion lunch with just the two of us...he mentioned that I shouldn't get my hopes up for any romantic prospects.
I'm happy to report that he might have been wrong. Nothing happened that night, but there was definitely someone there who surprised me. For sure. All in all, a good time. Lots of drinking. I got to kiss Rhoades Rader on the lips while we were taking our class picture. But that was right after he said hello to my friend Alanna. Missed my friend Nicole, who's married to my friend John, and wasn't feeling well that night. Marcus Daly was as adorable as ever: a tender, sweet bear of a man...just the way I remember him
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Reunions: Theatre
The Theatre Communications Group's annual Conference is being held in Los Angeles this year. It's a bit funny that LA is the location for over a thousand theatre professionals to gather and talk the state of the American Theatre. But I'm happy to have them here. This is the group I used to see once a year at the Humana Festival of New American Plays which is held at the Actors Theatre of Louisville. It was my annual trip to get away and geek out on theatre once a year.
This year I was a bit bummed that I didn't get to go, but really happy that I wasn't at my old job. That sadness quickly subsided when I realized that I now get to talk about theatre all of the time because I'm going to more shows and I'm workshopping a new play currently. All of this has happened since the break up. More room for the things I love.
But it'll be fun to see my peeps in my hometown and also to let them know what I'm up to theatre-wise. It's my coming out party! Okay, maybe it's a national gathering, but I choose to see it as my personal coming out party!
Theatre has played such a big part in my own search for identity, starting in high school and continuing through college where I wrote my first plays and grad school where I wrote more plays. Because I'm in LA I've largely ignored that impulse and have only averaged one play every two years. But I'm working on a brand new play now and last year I wrote three new full length plays. I've got an idea for another new play that I want to start as well. I've got this workshop that we started last week and more rehearsal this weekend. I'm at a Starbucks working on the rewrite for this new play that we're presenting as a reading at the end of the month.
I've never felt more like a playwright than I do right now. And it'll be great to see my theatre peeps and geek out yet again.
This year I was a bit bummed that I didn't get to go, but really happy that I wasn't at my old job. That sadness quickly subsided when I realized that I now get to talk about theatre all of the time because I'm going to more shows and I'm workshopping a new play currently. All of this has happened since the break up. More room for the things I love.
But it'll be fun to see my peeps in my hometown and also to let them know what I'm up to theatre-wise. It's my coming out party! Okay, maybe it's a national gathering, but I choose to see it as my personal coming out party!
Theatre has played such a big part in my own search for identity, starting in high school and continuing through college where I wrote my first plays and grad school where I wrote more plays. Because I'm in LA I've largely ignored that impulse and have only averaged one play every two years. But I'm working on a brand new play now and last year I wrote three new full length plays. I've got an idea for another new play that I want to start as well. I've got this workshop that we started last week and more rehearsal this weekend. I'm at a Starbucks working on the rewrite for this new play that we're presenting as a reading at the end of the month.
I've never felt more like a playwright than I do right now. And it'll be great to see my theatre peeps and geek out yet again.
Meet Nude
In Romantic Comedy Films, when two characters meet in a charming, adorable, totally unrealistic fashion, it’s said that they “meet cute.” Well, today I had a “meet nude” at the Korean Spa.
My bosses had given me a gift certificate to the Korean Spa I go to. I decided to go and get a massage and relax in the steam room and sauna. The massage was intense. When asked, I told the masseuse to go for it and give me tons of pressure. Ouch. It ended up being great, but five minutes into the massage I was regretting my instructions.
Afterwards, I relaxed in the steam room where this cute guy sat next to me. At first, I thought it might be the Return of New Haven. This guy looks exactly like him. It’s kind of scary. And since it was the spa, all of the bits and goodies were fully exposed. He hopped out of the steam room because it was getting a bit too steamy…in every regard.
I went to the patio to cool off and he was sitting there. I said hi and he said hi. There was a lot of silence. Some hesitation. Maybe some nerves. And there it was staring at me…his privates. And of course, me being me, I had to comment on the fact that I could see his penis. But he admitted to being comfortable naked. I like that quality in a man. He mentioned that he had to be at a meeting at 7:30. Then he quickly corrected himself: “I didn’t mean AA. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I have plenty of friends who are in AA and it’s good that they’re there.”
There’s one person in my life who I wish was in AA, but I didn’t think it was an appropriate time to mention that. So I agreed that I had friends who had benefitted greatly from AA. He did say that a lot of friends had asked him if he was going to AA lately. This raised eyebrows.
“Are you a heavy drinker?” I asked with some trepidation, but also to just put the kibosh on this interaction right now if that’s where it’s headed. He said that he wasn’t. As is my tradition, I had proposed a little short-term pleasure, and he mentioned that he’s a bigger fan of something that’s a bit less anonymous. So I asked him if we could exchange numbers to grab a drink some time. And he said he’d like that.
I just asked someone out. And this person happened to be naked and fully exposed when I did. I’m okay with that. It was nice to meet someone to have a conversation with. Naked. But a solid conversation none the less. And he was a bit shy, which is a nice change of pace. But he seemed to have personality. So who knows? I called his phone to leave him my number and he texted me back after I got out of my friend Padraic’s play. I like a quick responder. I do have a concern or two that he reminds me New Haven, who’s a friend who reminds me of my ex. And he fits the profile for guys that I have dated in the past.
I’m deciding not to put any expectations on any of it. And my concerns will be there if it’s of any consequence and I’ll deal with them then. So I’m just going to enjoy the rest of the week finishing the latest draft of this new play, getting ready to see my theatre friends and my high school friends this weekend. There’s plenty going on and if I end up having a drink with this guy, that’ll be nice. But not a priority.
It’s nice being flirted with, however.
My bosses had given me a gift certificate to the Korean Spa I go to. I decided to go and get a massage and relax in the steam room and sauna. The massage was intense. When asked, I told the masseuse to go for it and give me tons of pressure. Ouch. It ended up being great, but five minutes into the massage I was regretting my instructions.
Afterwards, I relaxed in the steam room where this cute guy sat next to me. At first, I thought it might be the Return of New Haven. This guy looks exactly like him. It’s kind of scary. And since it was the spa, all of the bits and goodies were fully exposed. He hopped out of the steam room because it was getting a bit too steamy…in every regard.
I went to the patio to cool off and he was sitting there. I said hi and he said hi. There was a lot of silence. Some hesitation. Maybe some nerves. And there it was staring at me…his privates. And of course, me being me, I had to comment on the fact that I could see his penis. But he admitted to being comfortable naked. I like that quality in a man. He mentioned that he had to be at a meeting at 7:30. Then he quickly corrected himself: “I didn’t mean AA. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I have plenty of friends who are in AA and it’s good that they’re there.”
There’s one person in my life who I wish was in AA, but I didn’t think it was an appropriate time to mention that. So I agreed that I had friends who had benefitted greatly from AA. He did say that a lot of friends had asked him if he was going to AA lately. This raised eyebrows.
“Are you a heavy drinker?” I asked with some trepidation, but also to just put the kibosh on this interaction right now if that’s where it’s headed. He said that he wasn’t. As is my tradition, I had proposed a little short-term pleasure, and he mentioned that he’s a bigger fan of something that’s a bit less anonymous. So I asked him if we could exchange numbers to grab a drink some time. And he said he’d like that.
I just asked someone out. And this person happened to be naked and fully exposed when I did. I’m okay with that. It was nice to meet someone to have a conversation with. Naked. But a solid conversation none the less. And he was a bit shy, which is a nice change of pace. But he seemed to have personality. So who knows? I called his phone to leave him my number and he texted me back after I got out of my friend Padraic’s play. I like a quick responder. I do have a concern or two that he reminds me New Haven, who’s a friend who reminds me of my ex. And he fits the profile for guys that I have dated in the past.
I’m deciding not to put any expectations on any of it. And my concerns will be there if it’s of any consequence and I’ll deal with them then. So I’m just going to enjoy the rest of the week finishing the latest draft of this new play, getting ready to see my theatre friends and my high school friends this weekend. There’s plenty going on and if I end up having a drink with this guy, that’ll be nice. But not a priority.
It’s nice being flirted with, however.
Monday, June 13, 2011
Gay Pride: The Recap
Earlier in the week I had gotten a phone call from my friend Steve asking me if I was going to Gay Pride this year. For me, it was a loaded question. I had spent the past five Gay Prides in LA with my ex-boyfriend. We went to our friend Jerry's brunch, we went out and usually lost each other a few hours later, then sent crazy texts back and forth and ended up reconnecting either at home or out.
Now thinking about it: Why would I even be nostalgic about that?
The hangover the next day was horrific and I'd feel all sorts of regret. But this is what I knew for five years. So when Steve asked me if I was going, I said that I would only go if he and his boyfriend were going. I didn't want to go alone. He agreed that we would all go together. I felt secure with that. I didn't want to run into the old crew by myself.
Then yesterday, we made plans to meet up around 4. I went and worked out, did my pre-pride pump workout so I would look extra muscley...because I knew if I ended up shirtless listening to Top 40 remixes on a dance floor, that I wanted to be ready to go. Also, I wanted to look hot in case I ran into the ex or one of his friends who could tell the ex how hot I looked.
I was done with my workout by 2 and I had time to kill. But instead I decided that I would go out by myself and when the guys came out, I'd just meet them somewhere. It started to occur to me that I was placing way too much importance on whether or not I'd run into the ex. I could still have fun by myself. I never used to have a problem going out alone, so why now? So I found a great parking spot, walked up the street and headed into the belly of the beast.
Well, it wasn't 15 minutes that I was out when I ran into my friend Tim, who's an ex-boyfriend of my ex's best friend. He was meeting his friends out at Eleven, a big gay bar on the main drag. So I went with him, we caught up a bit about how immature ex-boyfriends can be and met up with his friends. The friends were drunk and silly. Someone handed me a drink and we were on our way to the LASC party, which coincidentally was the party I was at on Halloween when the seeds of the break up were planted. I figured why not go back to the scene of the crime.
Well, we couldn't get into the party. Someone was going to try and get eight of us in. I felt like I was in my early 20s again, trying to get into some frat party or something. And that's not a bad thing. So the group kind of splintered off. Tim and his new boyfriend decided to go home. I decided to head back towards the action.
As I was walking, watching all of the leather daddies holding hands, the pair of stilt walkers, the groups of friends in their rainbow boas for their first Gay Pride...I felt a bit alone again. So I headed into Here Lounge, which was the only bar that didn't have a huge line to get in. I got a beer and looked around at all of the friends who were there together. As I was doing my fifth loop around the bar, I saw a couple of familiar faces in the VIP area...
Bethenny Frankel and Jason Hoppy.
Not that I KNOW Bethenny and Jason personally, but I'm addicted to BETHENNY EVER AFTER...I've even written about them on this blog. But they were kind of huddled in the back of their roped off area...I'm not sure if they knew any of the people they were with. And part of me wanted to go up to them just so they could try to introduce me to Andy Cohen, who I believe was in town for Pride.
But my next thought was to wait for my friend Steve to meet me and then we could go up and talk to Bethenny and Jason together. Steve said he was on his way.
I went back outside to the patio. Then this really cute young kid grabbed me and said, "Oh my God, hi Eric!" He turned to his friend and said, "My brother went to school with him!" I had no idea who this kid was. "It's Nick! Carlo's brother!" Still...no clue. But the blond kid he was talking to was HOT. But he was Nick's straight roommate, who eventually spent the rest of the afternoon shirtless. Even though he was worried that guys would be hitting on him. He couldn't have been that worried.
Then I realized that yes, I did know Nick and his very handsome brother Carlo who I did West Side Story with in college. I smoked cigarettes and chatted with Nick and his friends for a bit and then I saw someone I knew a few feet from me.
It was Jason, who was the host at Cecconi's and then moved onto Soho House. The ex and I spent a lot of time at Cecconi's and then he became a member at Soho House after we broke up. He was with Karen, another employee at both establishments. Well, they were happy to see me and they had since left the company entirely and started off on new adventures. Karen cut off all of her hair and died it platinum blonde. She looked like Agnus Deen.
Then Steve texted me and said the lines were too long and he was going back home.
So I hung out with Jason and Karen...we ran into another Cecconi's friend, an adorable brit I've always had a crush on named Craig. He was with his boyfriend and their friends. And I wasn't alone any more.
I had taken my shirt off...I was feeling free. I no longer cared if I ran into the ex. Or his friends. Or anyone who knew him or us when we were an US. Jason said that he was happy to see that I was fully experiencing myself as my own person. That it sounded like I had taken off on this new adventure. Then he told me he was going to meet friends of his that he was in RENT in a few months ago. Then we talked about my play reading coming up. He asked me if I was an actor and I told him that I was actually a playwright. Then he said, "Oh my God. I had no idea. We just opened up a whole new area of things to talk about and have in common."
Yeah, I thought. I just shared with you a major part of who I am. I'm no longer in the shadow. It's awfully cold in that shadow and you can't have your shirt off when you're in the shadow. The light was definitely shining on me.
And I realized something else...I haven't been in the shadow for a long time. I didn't need to be worried that I was going to run into the ex. I didn't need to worry about coming out by myself. And the fact that my friends, who I thought I needed emotional support from, didn't show up didn't even matter. This person that I have been trying to be or been wanting to turn into...that person always existed, first of all. And secondly, I came out of the cocoon a long time ago.
I started talking to this lovely woman named Heather, who was friends with Nick, who seemed to know everyone. We ended up getting on the ex-boyfriend tip and discussed all of the issues at play in the break up. And this very glamourous, fashionable woman looked at me and said...
"Well, you look like you're over it. You seem like a sweet guy, you've got a great body..."
I must have given her a look because she then added:
"You can tell that you work at it." And I simply said "Thank you."
I know I should always know these things about myself, that the affirmations should come from within, but I don't always see it until a complete stranger makes a comment like that.
And that body came from hard work. It meant that I had been focusing on myself for the past seven months. And she noticed that. Not just the body, but the healing that's been going on and she acknowledged that in that one statement. And I couldn't have gotten a complement like that if I hadn't come out by myself, trusted I would have fun and felt good enough to take my shirt off.
So thank you, Heather. I will most likely never see you again, but thank you.
We eventually ended up back at Eleven where we arranged to meet up with some of Jason's and Karen's friends.
I went to the bar to get us some beers. While I was there, I noticed a cute blonde guy with a green t-shirt on. Rugged, handsome and waiting to place a drink order as well. He offered his hand and introduced himself as Lee. He made some small talk about how sticky the floor was and then said he would be out in the back area with his friends. We said "Happy Pride" and he went on his way. It wasn't until I had gotten home later that night that I realized that maybe he wanted me to come to the back area and say hi.
But that's not what yesterday was about. I was fine. Chatting it up with Jason and Karen. Talking to their friends...one last smoke break and pep talk from Jason telling me that I had to let my ex go. I couldn't be a caretaker any more. And even though I know that, it was nice to hear it from someone who knew us when we were an US, but who wasn't one of my ex's inner circle. Jason shared with me that he had to start over after he broke up with his ex because they all had the same friends. Jason had met this guy right after moving to LA.
And that's exactly what I was doing. Starting over. Establishing my new circle. I just became a member of a group called The Playwrights Union. I have my cast and director for my reading. I have some old friends. I'm seeing my high school classmates this weekend...I'm doing this on my own. And I couldn't be happier because I know that people are seeing me for a change.
And isn't that what the past seven months have been about? This blog, this journey, these reflections?
So sorry, no stories of making out with hot guys or blackouts this year. But I guess that's appropriate because I'm not running away from anything this year. I'm not trying to escape.
I'm fine right here.
Now thinking about it: Why would I even be nostalgic about that?
The hangover the next day was horrific and I'd feel all sorts of regret. But this is what I knew for five years. So when Steve asked me if I was going, I said that I would only go if he and his boyfriend were going. I didn't want to go alone. He agreed that we would all go together. I felt secure with that. I didn't want to run into the old crew by myself.
Then yesterday, we made plans to meet up around 4. I went and worked out, did my pre-pride pump workout so I would look extra muscley...because I knew if I ended up shirtless listening to Top 40 remixes on a dance floor, that I wanted to be ready to go. Also, I wanted to look hot in case I ran into the ex or one of his friends who could tell the ex how hot I looked.
I was done with my workout by 2 and I had time to kill. But instead I decided that I would go out by myself and when the guys came out, I'd just meet them somewhere. It started to occur to me that I was placing way too much importance on whether or not I'd run into the ex. I could still have fun by myself. I never used to have a problem going out alone, so why now? So I found a great parking spot, walked up the street and headed into the belly of the beast.
Well, it wasn't 15 minutes that I was out when I ran into my friend Tim, who's an ex-boyfriend of my ex's best friend. He was meeting his friends out at Eleven, a big gay bar on the main drag. So I went with him, we caught up a bit about how immature ex-boyfriends can be and met up with his friends. The friends were drunk and silly. Someone handed me a drink and we were on our way to the LASC party, which coincidentally was the party I was at on Halloween when the seeds of the break up were planted. I figured why not go back to the scene of the crime.
Well, we couldn't get into the party. Someone was going to try and get eight of us in. I felt like I was in my early 20s again, trying to get into some frat party or something. And that's not a bad thing. So the group kind of splintered off. Tim and his new boyfriend decided to go home. I decided to head back towards the action.
As I was walking, watching all of the leather daddies holding hands, the pair of stilt walkers, the groups of friends in their rainbow boas for their first Gay Pride...I felt a bit alone again. So I headed into Here Lounge, which was the only bar that didn't have a huge line to get in. I got a beer and looked around at all of the friends who were there together. As I was doing my fifth loop around the bar, I saw a couple of familiar faces in the VIP area...
Bethenny Frankel and Jason Hoppy.
Not that I KNOW Bethenny and Jason personally, but I'm addicted to BETHENNY EVER AFTER...I've even written about them on this blog. But they were kind of huddled in the back of their roped off area...I'm not sure if they knew any of the people they were with. And part of me wanted to go up to them just so they could try to introduce me to Andy Cohen, who I believe was in town for Pride.
But my next thought was to wait for my friend Steve to meet me and then we could go up and talk to Bethenny and Jason together. Steve said he was on his way.
I went back outside to the patio. Then this really cute young kid grabbed me and said, "Oh my God, hi Eric!" He turned to his friend and said, "My brother went to school with him!" I had no idea who this kid was. "It's Nick! Carlo's brother!" Still...no clue. But the blond kid he was talking to was HOT. But he was Nick's straight roommate, who eventually spent the rest of the afternoon shirtless. Even though he was worried that guys would be hitting on him. He couldn't have been that worried.
Then I realized that yes, I did know Nick and his very handsome brother Carlo who I did West Side Story with in college. I smoked cigarettes and chatted with Nick and his friends for a bit and then I saw someone I knew a few feet from me.
It was Jason, who was the host at Cecconi's and then moved onto Soho House. The ex and I spent a lot of time at Cecconi's and then he became a member at Soho House after we broke up. He was with Karen, another employee at both establishments. Well, they were happy to see me and they had since left the company entirely and started off on new adventures. Karen cut off all of her hair and died it platinum blonde. She looked like Agnus Deen.
Then Steve texted me and said the lines were too long and he was going back home.
So I hung out with Jason and Karen...we ran into another Cecconi's friend, an adorable brit I've always had a crush on named Craig. He was with his boyfriend and their friends. And I wasn't alone any more.
I had taken my shirt off...I was feeling free. I no longer cared if I ran into the ex. Or his friends. Or anyone who knew him or us when we were an US. Jason said that he was happy to see that I was fully experiencing myself as my own person. That it sounded like I had taken off on this new adventure. Then he told me he was going to meet friends of his that he was in RENT in a few months ago. Then we talked about my play reading coming up. He asked me if I was an actor and I told him that I was actually a playwright. Then he said, "Oh my God. I had no idea. We just opened up a whole new area of things to talk about and have in common."
Yeah, I thought. I just shared with you a major part of who I am. I'm no longer in the shadow. It's awfully cold in that shadow and you can't have your shirt off when you're in the shadow. The light was definitely shining on me.
And I realized something else...I haven't been in the shadow for a long time. I didn't need to be worried that I was going to run into the ex. I didn't need to worry about coming out by myself. And the fact that my friends, who I thought I needed emotional support from, didn't show up didn't even matter. This person that I have been trying to be or been wanting to turn into...that person always existed, first of all. And secondly, I came out of the cocoon a long time ago.
I started talking to this lovely woman named Heather, who was friends with Nick, who seemed to know everyone. We ended up getting on the ex-boyfriend tip and discussed all of the issues at play in the break up. And this very glamourous, fashionable woman looked at me and said...
"Well, you look like you're over it. You seem like a sweet guy, you've got a great body..."
I must have given her a look because she then added:
"You can tell that you work at it." And I simply said "Thank you."
I know I should always know these things about myself, that the affirmations should come from within, but I don't always see it until a complete stranger makes a comment like that.
And that body came from hard work. It meant that I had been focusing on myself for the past seven months. And she noticed that. Not just the body, but the healing that's been going on and she acknowledged that in that one statement. And I couldn't have gotten a complement like that if I hadn't come out by myself, trusted I would have fun and felt good enough to take my shirt off.
So thank you, Heather. I will most likely never see you again, but thank you.
We eventually ended up back at Eleven where we arranged to meet up with some of Jason's and Karen's friends.
I went to the bar to get us some beers. While I was there, I noticed a cute blonde guy with a green t-shirt on. Rugged, handsome and waiting to place a drink order as well. He offered his hand and introduced himself as Lee. He made some small talk about how sticky the floor was and then said he would be out in the back area with his friends. We said "Happy Pride" and he went on his way. It wasn't until I had gotten home later that night that I realized that maybe he wanted me to come to the back area and say hi.
But that's not what yesterday was about. I was fine. Chatting it up with Jason and Karen. Talking to their friends...one last smoke break and pep talk from Jason telling me that I had to let my ex go. I couldn't be a caretaker any more. And even though I know that, it was nice to hear it from someone who knew us when we were an US, but who wasn't one of my ex's inner circle. Jason shared with me that he had to start over after he broke up with his ex because they all had the same friends. Jason had met this guy right after moving to LA.
And that's exactly what I was doing. Starting over. Establishing my new circle. I just became a member of a group called The Playwrights Union. I have my cast and director for my reading. I have some old friends. I'm seeing my high school classmates this weekend...I'm doing this on my own. And I couldn't be happier because I know that people are seeing me for a change.
And isn't that what the past seven months have been about? This blog, this journey, these reflections?
So sorry, no stories of making out with hot guys or blackouts this year. But I guess that's appropriate because I'm not running away from anything this year. I'm not trying to escape.
I'm fine right here.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Giving Birth
Yesterday, we had the first rehearsal for my new play, THE SNAKE CHARMER. We're doing a workshop this month that will culminate in a reading in two weeks.
Oy. That hurt. In a "hurt so good" way. But also in a "ouch, you're ripping my asshole" way.
But that's giving birth. My friend Dave made the recent remark that while heterosexuals are here to procreate, us gays also serve an important purpose. While we cannot biologically give birth to children, it is our duty and purpose to give birth to culture, to move our society forward. I like that this statement fills me with a sense of purpose. If this is my life's vocation, then so be it. I will do it proudly. And I will still have time and money to travel and live my life without having to figure out a feeding schedule or babysitters or what time little Johnny needs to be picked up from soccer practice.
Not that I'm against giving birth. I'm all for it. I'm here because of it. My niece Sela is here because of it. And she's the coolest advocate for a heterosexual lifestyle I've seen in a long time.
But as I was sitting in rehearsal at that first read through yesterday, I just kept my head down as I cringed at some of the language. As I cried at something I wrote. I figured I should keep my head down in case the group thought I was too impressed with something I wrote.
It's a great thing...this writing thing that I do. It's pretty awesome. It's nice to have a voice, to be able to say things publicly.
And now I go about the process of shaping this new child of mine.
Oy. That hurt. In a "hurt so good" way. But also in a "ouch, you're ripping my asshole" way.
But that's giving birth. My friend Dave made the recent remark that while heterosexuals are here to procreate, us gays also serve an important purpose. While we cannot biologically give birth to children, it is our duty and purpose to give birth to culture, to move our society forward. I like that this statement fills me with a sense of purpose. If this is my life's vocation, then so be it. I will do it proudly. And I will still have time and money to travel and live my life without having to figure out a feeding schedule or babysitters or what time little Johnny needs to be picked up from soccer practice.
Not that I'm against giving birth. I'm all for it. I'm here because of it. My niece Sela is here because of it. And she's the coolest advocate for a heterosexual lifestyle I've seen in a long time.
But as I was sitting in rehearsal at that first read through yesterday, I just kept my head down as I cringed at some of the language. As I cried at something I wrote. I figured I should keep my head down in case the group thought I was too impressed with something I wrote.
It's a great thing...this writing thing that I do. It's pretty awesome. It's nice to have a voice, to be able to say things publicly.
And now I go about the process of shaping this new child of mine.
My Gay Pride
I'm proud that when I was a child I went to go see WITHOUT YOU I'M NOTHING, the screen adaptation of Sandra Bernhard one woman show with my best friend at the Beverly Center and being the youngest people in the theatre BY FAR.
I'm proud that I was that hip...and that if I represent any guard, it's the old guard. The literate, classy, witty and wise gays. Not the pectoral gays. Not the botox gays. Not the sch-mays (as in gay, schmay). However, I am VERY proud to represent the gays who like Chimay. I mean, who doesn't love a little bit of belgian beer to take the edge off once in a while with a clove cigarette and a smoky eye.
I'm proud that I know who Justin V. Bond is and that I went to see V a couple of months ago in LA. The gays who were at that performance...those are MY gays.
I'm proud that I was bullied as a kid and I lived to tell the story. And to spew some real shit on the horned, toad with a pus-filled asshole that is homophobia.
I'm proud that I'm pretty, angry, clever, delicious, fiery and articulate.
I'm proud that I've got the body and the brains. Because my chest is ironic. My quads are symbols of satire. My core muscles have multiple layers of meaning. My biceps are social commentary of the times we live in. My P90-triple x body is not what it seems.
I'm proud to be a Downey-raised, East Village gay who's now living in LA and listens to KCRW, goes to MoCA, LACMA and gets lost in the art, in the music...and stays tapped in.
I'm proud to be a member of the family of Oscar Wilde, Michaelangelo, Armistead Maupin, Edward Albee, Tony Kushner, Alexander McQueen, Tom Ford, and all of those cultural fathers who have given birth to beauty, art and culture that have made this world a more accepting, far-reaching, bigger, and better place.
I'm proud to be an artist and a someone who comments on everything. I'm proud to have something to say. Something to believe in. And something to fight for.
So if I end up going down to LA Gay Pride 2011 in West Hollywood today, that is my own personal private parade that I will be marching in.
I'm proud that I was that hip...and that if I represent any guard, it's the old guard. The literate, classy, witty and wise gays. Not the pectoral gays. Not the botox gays. Not the sch-mays (as in gay, schmay). However, I am VERY proud to represent the gays who like Chimay. I mean, who doesn't love a little bit of belgian beer to take the edge off once in a while with a clove cigarette and a smoky eye.
I'm proud that I know who Justin V. Bond is and that I went to see V a couple of months ago in LA. The gays who were at that performance...those are MY gays.
I'm proud that I was bullied as a kid and I lived to tell the story. And to spew some real shit on the horned, toad with a pus-filled asshole that is homophobia.
I'm proud that I'm pretty, angry, clever, delicious, fiery and articulate.
I'm proud that I've got the body and the brains. Because my chest is ironic. My quads are symbols of satire. My core muscles have multiple layers of meaning. My biceps are social commentary of the times we live in. My P90-triple x body is not what it seems.
I'm proud to be a Downey-raised, East Village gay who's now living in LA and listens to KCRW, goes to MoCA, LACMA and gets lost in the art, in the music...and stays tapped in.
I'm proud to be a member of the family of Oscar Wilde, Michaelangelo, Armistead Maupin, Edward Albee, Tony Kushner, Alexander McQueen, Tom Ford, and all of those cultural fathers who have given birth to beauty, art and culture that have made this world a more accepting, far-reaching, bigger, and better place.
I'm proud to be an artist and a someone who comments on everything. I'm proud to have something to say. Something to believe in. And something to fight for.
So if I end up going down to LA Gay Pride 2011 in West Hollywood today, that is my own personal private parade that I will be marching in.
Proud...of what?
It's LA Pride. The parade is today.
Every year for the past five years, I would wake up and we would either walk or take a cab over to our friend, Jerry's house. Jerry has this big brunch every year.
At 9 AM. Funny. That's what time it is now.
The stage is set. Vodka drinks. The screen door on the balcony is open to watch the floats prepare to start on the journey West down Santa Monica Blvd. A bunch of friends gather together, getting their drink on early. Then at noon, they all walk down the parade route, to go cups in hand. Then they make it to O-Bar on their first stop. And that's where everyone loses each other.
Some walk ahead. Some stay behind. Some reconnect. Some go home to go to the bathroom and then fall asleep for hours because they're drunk by 1 PM. That would have been me or the ex. Then you wake up and go back out.
Lots of lost hours. Blackouts. Mystery makeout sessions. Frantic text messages:
"Where are you?"
"I'm here."
"Where are my pants?"
"ARRRGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHH!!!!!!"
Well, I have to admit that part of me is nostalgic because it is always such a great party. And I like walking the streets and checking out the sights. I like that the gays are out roaming the streets of WeHo. But I don't miss the angry messages. And I don't miss the fact that my ex and I would spend hours away from each other. I think I liked it at the time because I felt like I could go out and roam free and make out with people. But if he was so terrific, wouldn't have I wanted to spend more time with him?
Last year, he practically had a party at our house without me. It's not like he texted me or missed me. And I guess I didn't really care either. Wow. It's funny the things you see a year later.
I might go down there later today, once things die down a bit and walk around with friends. It'll be fun...with friends. But not alone. I honestly don't want to run into him and "our friends" by myself. Any other day but today. But I could change my mind. I could just say fuck it and I'm going down there alone and I'll probably run into friends and be silly. It could be fun either way. We'll see.
But isn't it funny that on Pride day, I was always doing things that made me feel less than proud. That's the mad irony. That none of the gays get because we're not about irony these days. I want an ironic muscle gay. A satirical rainbow flag. But it's all a little too on the surface for my tastes.
Every year for the past five years, I would wake up and we would either walk or take a cab over to our friend, Jerry's house. Jerry has this big brunch every year.
At 9 AM. Funny. That's what time it is now.
The stage is set. Vodka drinks. The screen door on the balcony is open to watch the floats prepare to start on the journey West down Santa Monica Blvd. A bunch of friends gather together, getting their drink on early. Then at noon, they all walk down the parade route, to go cups in hand. Then they make it to O-Bar on their first stop. And that's where everyone loses each other.
Some walk ahead. Some stay behind. Some reconnect. Some go home to go to the bathroom and then fall asleep for hours because they're drunk by 1 PM. That would have been me or the ex. Then you wake up and go back out.
Lots of lost hours. Blackouts. Mystery makeout sessions. Frantic text messages:
"Where are you?"
"I'm here."
"Where are my pants?"
"ARRRGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHH!!!!!!"
Well, I have to admit that part of me is nostalgic because it is always such a great party. And I like walking the streets and checking out the sights. I like that the gays are out roaming the streets of WeHo. But I don't miss the angry messages. And I don't miss the fact that my ex and I would spend hours away from each other. I think I liked it at the time because I felt like I could go out and roam free and make out with people. But if he was so terrific, wouldn't have I wanted to spend more time with him?
Last year, he practically had a party at our house without me. It's not like he texted me or missed me. And I guess I didn't really care either. Wow. It's funny the things you see a year later.
I might go down there later today, once things die down a bit and walk around with friends. It'll be fun...with friends. But not alone. I honestly don't want to run into him and "our friends" by myself. Any other day but today. But I could change my mind. I could just say fuck it and I'm going down there alone and I'll probably run into friends and be silly. It could be fun either way. We'll see.
But isn't it funny that on Pride day, I was always doing things that made me feel less than proud. That's the mad irony. That none of the gays get because we're not about irony these days. I want an ironic muscle gay. A satirical rainbow flag. But it's all a little too on the surface for my tastes.
Ending this Chapter
When I started this blog, it was to really document my life post-break up. And now that I'm winding my blog down (at least THIS blog), I can truly say that my life has changed for the better.
I've been single for over seven months...so it feels odd to feel that I need to write about how I'm coming back to myself because as the title reads "I'm back!" And I've been back for some time.
Now my life consists of going to play rehearsal...I've got a workshop coming up at the end of June and I had my first rehearsal with my director and actors yesterday. Writing is back front and center in my life. And being a playwright is back front and center in my life. I finished a full draft of my new play, THE SNAKE CHARMER, this past week. I used to go to the Humana Festival in Louisville, KY every year for my old job and that was my one weekend a year to really geek out and talk theatre. Now I talk about theatre all of the time. I just joined a group of LA writers working in theatre, film and TV called The Playwrights Union. I'm going to my friend Padraic's play here in LA on Tuesday. I'm going to see the Rude Mechs' The Method Gun on Thursday with my friend Karen. My theatre friends are here on Thursday through Sunday for the National Theatre Communications Group conference.
I truly feel like a playwright again. Not just because I'm having one very big intense week of theatre infusion, but because I'm actively writing and developing my work. And constantly finding more opportunities to do so. I've always loved the work I do and now I have the freedom to do it all of the time.
But this is just my life now. It's no longer about the journey to myself (although, it is a lifetime journey). I've broken free - although I do think about him from time to time. But I think the content and format of a blog should be different. Because this is a different chapter.
I'm also wanting to have a lot more fun. I want to write more about my sex life and my creative life...and my future dating life. This blog has been about figuring all of that stuff out in the early stages of a break up. And so much of it relates back to the break up. I no longer want to be defined by the break up, although there are obviously going to be references in the new blog I'll be starting.
I see these blogs as being short term. And I see them as being like novels. Like modern day Armistead Maupin novels (yes, I know he's alive and still writing them and that this statement may come to haunt me). I see myself as constantly reinventing myself and my blogs as time goes on. Each one will be finite and will be dedicated to a different theme, according to what's going on in my life at the time.
But it's time for more fun. And now that my job has ended and I'll be entering a new transition, that's a whole different thing as well. Life is constantly evolving and it does take place in chapters, some short and some longer.
I feel good about what this chapter in my life has meant and I feel truly appreciative for how this blog has helped me heal.
The bird has flown the coop! Watch me fly!
I've been single for over seven months...so it feels odd to feel that I need to write about how I'm coming back to myself because as the title reads "I'm back!" And I've been back for some time.
Now my life consists of going to play rehearsal...I've got a workshop coming up at the end of June and I had my first rehearsal with my director and actors yesterday. Writing is back front and center in my life. And being a playwright is back front and center in my life. I finished a full draft of my new play, THE SNAKE CHARMER, this past week. I used to go to the Humana Festival in Louisville, KY every year for my old job and that was my one weekend a year to really geek out and talk theatre. Now I talk about theatre all of the time. I just joined a group of LA writers working in theatre, film and TV called The Playwrights Union. I'm going to my friend Padraic's play here in LA on Tuesday. I'm going to see the Rude Mechs' The Method Gun on Thursday with my friend Karen. My theatre friends are here on Thursday through Sunday for the National Theatre Communications Group conference.
I truly feel like a playwright again. Not just because I'm having one very big intense week of theatre infusion, but because I'm actively writing and developing my work. And constantly finding more opportunities to do so. I've always loved the work I do and now I have the freedom to do it all of the time.
But this is just my life now. It's no longer about the journey to myself (although, it is a lifetime journey). I've broken free - although I do think about him from time to time. But I think the content and format of a blog should be different. Because this is a different chapter.
I'm also wanting to have a lot more fun. I want to write more about my sex life and my creative life...and my future dating life. This blog has been about figuring all of that stuff out in the early stages of a break up. And so much of it relates back to the break up. I no longer want to be defined by the break up, although there are obviously going to be references in the new blog I'll be starting.
I see these blogs as being short term. And I see them as being like novels. Like modern day Armistead Maupin novels (yes, I know he's alive and still writing them and that this statement may come to haunt me). I see myself as constantly reinventing myself and my blogs as time goes on. Each one will be finite and will be dedicated to a different theme, according to what's going on in my life at the time.
But it's time for more fun. And now that my job has ended and I'll be entering a new transition, that's a whole different thing as well. Life is constantly evolving and it does take place in chapters, some short and some longer.
I feel good about what this chapter in my life has meant and I feel truly appreciative for how this blog has helped me heal.
The bird has flown the coop! Watch me fly!
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