Keeping Up Appearances

I recently wrote on a Facebook post that I shaved my head in July 2012, then kept shaving it until April 2013.  I had a wedding to go to and I wanted to make sure I looked good.  Then I decided to let it grow out.  In August 2013, I got a haircut from my childhood barber (who I will probably never see again).  Ever since then I have been growing my hair out.  I let the sideburns go.  I let my hair go.  I didn't care. I had other things to worry about.  I had been writing a lot.  I worked on losing some weight, but I didn't care about how I looked.  I also needed to grow my fresh hair back as a way to get back to myself.

It looked all right.  I even considered keeping it long and letting it get shoulder length so I could ombre it at the ends and look like Jared Leto.  The only problem: I'm not Jared Leto.  Well, and one other problem, I was getting impatient.  I noticed that I was looking kind of shaggy.  And as much as I would just love to be some intellectual who doesn't care about what his hair looks like, I know I'm not that person.

Honor thy Error as thy True Intention.

Okay, so maybe it really read: Honor Your Error as Your True Intention.  I just liked making it sound more old world.  I'm a vain person.  But I think my vanity comes from wanting to present myself a certain way.  And I started to notice how flat the hair was looking.  I had just let it grow.  I didn't trim my sideburns much.  I didn't thin it out.  I have very thick hair and usually I have to cut into it with a razor to "give it texture."  It had no texture.  It was my full head of hair.  The full head of hair I hadn't had for a long time because even when I had hair, it was styled.

I was cleansing myself of my cleansing.  I had shaved my head to cleanse myself.  I wanted to show how different I was because my Dad had died.  I wanted to mark the event.  I later found out that shaving of the head after someone dies is a spiritual thing.  It's supposed to mean that you're not invested in vanity.  It removes vanity because the mourning process is about the person who has died.  So I stripped myself clean.  I kept my head shaved because I wasn't ready to let go.  My head was shaved for almost nine months.  It started to feel like a security blanket.  I'm in mourning, leave me alone.

Then I went to Hawaii to spread my Dad's ashes.  Once we came back, I knew I wanted to grow my hair out again.  So I just let it grow.  It got to a point where it really needed to be trimmed and shaped.  I wasn't ready to go back to a stylist.  I wasn't ready to just hop back into my vanity.  So as a tribute, I went to the guy who had been shaving my head at my childhood barber shop and I had him trim the back and the sides a bit.  He cleaned me up.  So at least I looked presentable.  But it wasn't a style.  It wasn't a coif.  It was just a haircut at a barber shop.  That seemed fine to me.

Like I said, I was cleansing myself of my cleansing by growing my hair out.  I hadn't had my hair long since my break up over three years ago when I cut my hair to get rid of the image of me that this ex had.  He loved my hair long and I got rid of it because I wanted to get him out of my system.  It's documented on the early days of this blog as a matter of fact.  Summer went.  Fall came.  I went to Sonoma to a friend's house and I was around a bunch of hot looking gay guys.  I just let it keep growing.  I wasn't trying to compete or compare.  I had a bigger mission.  I needed to grow my hair long for me.  It was the me that I felt the most comfortable with, not because my hair looked great long, but because people liked it.  I have been told that I have beautiful hair since I started growing it out in college.

Eventually, it just got longer and longer.  2014 began.  I knew I had to cut it soon, but I just needed to let it grow and grow and grow.  Then I thought of keeping it going and going all Jared Leto like I said. But then I started working again and being vital again.  I was working on a new play and a new pilot.  I had thought about re-entering my old world, but this time being different.  I was too busy being a worker bee to care about how I looked.  And somehow that persona became comfortable.  Too comfortable.  I felt like Grizzly Adams.  But slowly, what started happening was that I started to lose weight.  I lost about 15ish pounds.  And the long hair started to look slovenly to me.  It started to look uncool.  I started realizing how uncool I looked.  Vanity came back.

But I realized, it wasn't just about being cool.  It was about presenting myself to the world and I had stopped doing that.  I had stopped caring.  I got an influx of cash through work and I thought about how I could procure more work.  I started pursuing some opportunities to put my work out into the public.  And i realized that I would have to start putting myself into the public soon.  But the person I appeared to be wasn't a public person.  This was not a good presentation.  I had grown out sideburns and hair that started to smell after a week of not washing.  Even pulling my hair back when I was in the shower started not to look so hot.  I realized I had to start having a healthy relationship to my vanity, which was integral to who I am.  To deny my vanity was to deny myself.

I had been living a secluded life.  I had been living a life on hold for so long that I started caring less about my appearance.  But to be fair, I don't think my life over the three years really has been about my appearance.  It has been a serious period of growth and reflection.  I feel like I have been on a spiritual retreat for three years, but still living my life.  It's like having walking pneumonia.  Or it's like a walking meditation.  I wasn't closing my eyes or going into a cave or being silent, but I was removed from my life while I was living it in order to reflect on it.  Now my outer self had begun to represent this inner journey.  But the problem was that I was getting ready to leave the sanctity of my quiet, reflective life in order to re-enter a world I had felt ambivalent about.  My ambivalence was showing in my appearance. And I didn't want it any more.

I knew I wanted to have some sort of look.  And I knew it would start with clothes.  I went to the Adidas Employee Store in Portland.  Half off and no sales tax.  That sounded like a good place to start a make over.  I got some new shoes just for fashion.  Then I bought a couple of hoodies.  I bought some tank tops.  I got another pair of shoes for running.  I knew I would look cool hanging out or working out or running.  I started to think about looking cool again.

Then I called my friend Nina who cuts hair.  I had run into Nina at my best friend's bachelorette party.  She cut my hair years ago and she knew what I used to look like.  So I made an appointment.  And I cut it all off.

I realized that I no longer wanted to look like the guy my ex wanted.
I no longer could base my look on a reaction to not looking like the guy he wanted.
I shaved my head for my Dad for a very good reason, but that's not who I am either.
And I'm not the guy who doesn't care what he looks like.

Every time Nina brought the razor blade out to cut into my hair and thin it out, I felt like I was taking the weight of the past three years off of my shoulders.  I had decided to go longer on the top and shorter on the sides without looking like a hipster.  That's not my look.  I like clean and classic, with a bit of edge that comes from being a brown preppy type guy.

I looked great.  I could now see how the weight loss looked on my face.  I was no longer hiding.  I was making money, being productive, making a plan for how to save money and be productive and make more money.  I felt of the world again.

So I kept trying to find the right pair of jeans.  I felt like I needed some jeans that reflected who I am.  I had a pair borrowed from a friend.  And I had a lot of boyfriend jeans or pants that used to look good on me.  I didn't want any of that any more.  But none of the jeans I found fit well.  Then I went to the Gap Outlet with my Mom today and I decided to try on some jeans.  They were half off.  The skinny jeans in a size up fit perfectly.  So I got two different washes.  And a denim shirt.

I tried out a denim on denim look, which is on trend right now.  It looked terrific.  I had a look that made me happy.  I started to see myself.  I started to see how I could walk into a room and look someone in the eye.  I started to see my youth and my confidence.

Appearances are important.  To me.  I love fashion.  I love telling a story about myself through my appearance.  I went into my closet and picked the clothes that best represent me now.  I'm not quite done with the shopping, I'm sure.  But I just wanted some clothes that felt good to put on.  I needed some swagger and I've got it back.

I can't forget about me.  I can't stop living life on my terms.  This is my look.

I am grateful for all the new clothes I bought.
I am grateful for the work opportunities that helped out with achieving my new look.
I am grateful for Nina.
I am grateful for the time to reflect.
I am grateful that I look handsome again.

Patterns

During yoga today, today's thought was about patterns.  What are the patterns we have in our lives and what can we do to go about changing them?

I feel like I'm focused on looking at those patters and finding ways to change.  Both my break up with my Ex and my Father's illness and death made me focused on the role patterns play in my life.  I have established certain patterns with people and I've repeated certain patterns throughout various relationships in my life.

One I happen to be exploring in therapy is this idea that I want people to take care of me.  Mainly men.  And it's not necessarily financial, although that has happened.  But it is emotional.  I want to feel safe so what I need you to do is ______________.  That's how I've been rolling for most of my life.

And the theme that has been coming along with breaking these patterns is the idea of LET IT GO.  Here's another place where that phrase applies. 

I'm really trying to change a lot of things that have been established in my life.  I suppose this is the time to do it, after two major life changes in the past two years.  So to go from last Tuesday's lesson to focus on what responsibility we carry on our shoulders to today's pattern-acknowledging and breaking is great to help me get to the place in my life I want to be at. 

So I'll spend a lot of time reflecting on my patterns this weekend.  And maybe what new healthy patterns I want to establish for myself.

Like going to yoga. 
Like writing every day.
Like writing consistently.
Like eating healthy.

Patterns mean that you have some sort of mindfulness about what you're doing and I'd like to have mindfulness in a healthy way.

The Biggest Loser Marathon Episode Makes Me Cry

Why do I do this to myself?

The Biggest Loser is a show that makes me cry anyway. I have a mother who's always struggled with her weight and it's made me sad to see her hold herself back. And I've always identified with the show because of the ways I've held myself back. So I'm watching The Biggest Loser, identifying with my mother's struggle and my own struggle to break out of the non-fat shell I've created for myself and inevitably I sob.

I cry for my mother. I cry for my childhood bullying. This year I cried watching Ada on the first episode. Ada is this Asian woman who started out pretty overweight. She had a brother who died in a kiddie pool next to her when she was a child. And her parents blamed her. Then she was in a car with she was a teenager with the other child then had. They got into a big accident. And her father (I think it was) slapped her across the face and said: "What are you trying to do? Kill another one?"

Waterworks. Because as an Asian kid, I get that sense of constant disappointment that is conditioned in us early. I know how hard it is to always feel like you aren't giving your parents enough. That the only thing you're giving them is reasons to be disappointed. So when I saw Ada on the first episode and she told that story, I immediately identified.

And then I saw her constantly stand out. She was so much better than she believed. She worked harder than anyone on the ranch. She was a constant force to be reckoned with. And she didn't even know her own strength. Because she had suppressed all of her anger and her resentment and pushed it deep down, she didn't think she was worthy of taking care of herself. Oh, Ada. I so know you.

And every week she got stronger and more self aware and had a breakthrough where she finally got in touch with her anger. And then there was the week where everyone got packages from home except for her.

But I wasn't ready for the episode where the final four goes home. Because Ada goes home and is told by her parents how much they love her. Probably for the first time. And her mother loses it. She cries for how she unknowingly made her daughter feel.

And if that wasn't enough, they run the marathon in this episode. As I mentioned before in this blog, I ran the Florence Marathon with my ex a few years ago. And it was one of the highlights of our relationship. Two catholic boys running a marathon and finishing together hand in hand in Italy, an intensely Catholic country. And besides that the commitment of marathon training and it really brought us together. So when I watch Ada cap off her journey with the life changing/image breaking/condition breaking running of a marathon, I just thought about how my life has changed in the past five weeks.

I've run a marathon in the past five weeks. Running past barriers I never thought I'd cross. Breaking thought processes that I thought were just stuck and ingrained. And I'm stronger and have more stamina than I ever thought I did. I did the impossible and I'm starting to really change the patterns for my life.

But I also cried because I remember what that moment was like, crossing the finish line with the person was the love of my life. How I thought that would be one of the stories we'd tell at our wedding. The event that bound us together. How proud I was that I had chosen this person and that he had chosen me and we had done something wonderful for ourselves. And for charity. We raised a ton of money with our friends Tim and Gina.

And now it's over. I'm sitting here typing this on my friends' couch in tears. And the Biggest Loser is allowing me a catharsis that I don't let myself have. I can cry as long as I'm crying about someone else - a TV show. Someone else's journey. I know how strong I am. Like Ada, I've come to that conclusion and I'm at a place where I can acknowledge my accomplishments and accomplish more because of that confidence.

But it's Christmas soon. And while I don't have the anxiety of buying him a Christmas gift he may hate, I don't have the possibility of giving him something he may love. I won't go back. And it would be wrong and unhealthy to. But I loved being Mrs. ____ _________. As much as I joked about it and I'd call our favorite neighborhood spot and say, "This is Mrs. ___ _________. I need a table.", it was nice to be thought of that way.

And I'm getting to that place of anger. Right now that anger is in my running and my workouts. It's in this blog. It's "healthy." It has an "outlet." But I think that at some point you just need to go hit something. Or you just need to shit in a bag, light it on fire and leave it on someone's doorstep. I know it's supposed to be dog poop, but I think I have a lot of anger still not dealt with. Enough anger that would warrant me defecating into a bag.

My friend Brian and I used to talk about "the one you learn from," the relationship before the one you have for the rest of your life. It's the one that makes that relationship better. And it's a myth. You learn from all of them. And it's unfair to put any relationship on such a pedestal. Well, THAT was the one I learned from that this is the one that I will have FOR LIFE. Even if we die trying.

I hate that phrase just as much as I hate the phrase "white knuckle." But that's another story for another time.

I stuck in a relationship because I was so afraid it would be the one I was learning from and not THE ONE.

I have another friend, my best friend's sister, who had to end a short marriage that was actually at the end of a 10 year relationship (dating for 10, married for 1). And while we cried about it and lamented the loss of a wonderful relationship, she came to a conclusion.

She shrugged and said, "Well, it was a great run."

And sometimes that's what they are. They're just a great run.

Marathon Training

I talked to my friend Joe last week and he's going to do the LA marathon. I thought to myself "Hey that would be a good thing to do." I've been thinking about doing another marathon. The only one I've done is Florence a few years ago. Yes, Florence, Italy. And I don't mean to sound to cavalier about it. But it was a beautiful city and exciting to do it with my boyfriend at the time.

I'm still getting used to that. "Ex", "at the time", "former". Ugh.

So now I'm thinking of running the LA Marathon because Joe's flying out to NYC to do it. That's a good enough reason, right? And I still can check those things off of my list to do since becoming single:

1. Get in shape.
2. New haircut.
3. Run another marathon.

You know the list, the one you start when you want to liberate yourself. If you scroll down to the beginning of this blog, I believe you will find one.

I remember how good it felt to train every weekend. I'm supposed to be running with my friend Susan, but what we end up doing is talking about her new marriage and my new life. And it seems easier to talk and walk, than talk and run. But that's just an excuse. And my body isn't getting any more single-ready.

So I'm going to do a marathon. Because I'm single. And I have a list to fill. And I have a hot ass when I run. And I need to remind myself that the things that I think are impossible are actually within my reach. I just need to RUN and get them.

I know...bad. But it gets the point across.

Exercise as a way to Support Certain Habits

I don't know who likes to work out. I know there are people who do, but they are not MY people.

My people like to drink, eat, smoke and fuck. That is a great life.

But when you think about it, a run is great cure for a hangover. And in order to eat what you want for as long as you want, you have to exercise. So the exercise supports the eating - okay, that'll get me in the gym.

There's really no excuse for smoking, other than I look cool doing it. So that will be minimal, but again, I like doing things in moderation.

And fucking. Well, you gotta look good for other people will fuck you. And I've got too much love, energy, dirty thoughts, exhibitionism, and roleplay ideas to stop fucking. And I'm not old.

Conclusion: You need to get to the gym.

I know it's a cliche to lose weight when you get out of a relationship. For me, exercise is an exercise is streamlining. My body (I'm not posting a picture of it on here, so don't ask) is not bad. I'm about 5'10", 175-178, and the last time I checked my body fat percentage was at about 16.8. But I could tweak that a bit.

Height: That I can't tweak. I might be gay, but I don't think I'm going to get any dates by wearing heels.

Weight: I probably could lose about 10 pounds, as long as I had some good muscle weight and lower my body fat percentage. My weight is fine, but for pure vanity reasons, I want to get rid of some back fat.

Body Fat: Okay, so I could lose some. I'm not sure how much. Maybe 2-3%. I don't know what's healthy, so I'm going to Google that. I could ask some fit gay friends, but those bitches aren't the most healthy. We've got bad body perception, people! 10% sounds like a good number, but how skinny is that? Maybe 12. Oh, I'm just picking numbers, better consult someone who knows these things.

I actually have done P90X and have loved it. I wrote on another blog about my experiences. And it really improved my strength. It's hardcore and it really takes over your life, so it's a hard thing for me to do intensely. But the results speak for themselves.

So here's where I set another goal for myself.

GOAL: Have the body I want by my birthday in February.

That's three months. And conveniently, so is P90X. I'm starting this week. With the diet, too. Oy! But it'll be easier because I'm not living with somebody with no self control.

That means I have to start today. Ugh. I'm going to do the P90X strength workouts and diet. What does that mean? Lots of exercises using body weight: pushups, pull ups, squats. And lowering my carb intake and portion control.

Now to the fun part. P90X does three types of cardio. They do Plyometrics, which is jump training. Yoga. And kickboxing.

I'm going to switch out the plyometrics with a hip hop class at my gym. Or any dance class. I think when I get my dance legs and core back, I'm going to go take an actual class at a studio. GOAL.

Yoga. In another blog, I talked about Hot Nude Yoga. If I'm going to take a yoga class, I might as well have the possibility of an erection. Check.

Kickboxing. Well, there's no way around that. Kickboxing is just too much damn fun. And since I don't have a kickboxing partner, I'm just going to use the bags at the gym. But who knows? If this working out goes well, maybe I'll get myself a sparring partner. Who does Nude Yoga with me. And can dance. And if they can dance, that means they can fuck. And if they're willing to indulge themselves, maybe they like to eat well. Like tearing into a good piece of steak. Grrrrr. And after a glass of red wine (drink), it's good to have a smoke. It's very Parisian.

Oh! Maybe we'll be in Paris. Or maybe I'll MEET him in Paris. GOAL.