An Open Letter to Connexion.org and Body Dysmorphic Disorder

I have gotten several notes and emails over the past few days about the past two entries. They have ranged from “God, you are one crazy bitch” to “I have no idea why you do the things you do or what goes on in your head?” Well im glad that everyone is enjoying the material that I am putting out there. Its all for you.

So there are a few things I want to talk about today. The first is connexion.org. For most of you out there you are not going to have any idea what the website is or have any use for it once I tell you about it. Think of it as the gay facebook. Here the commercial:

Connexion is a community of 115,891 people from around the globe. Get connected to LGBT people through networks of friends for dating, conversation and fun.

Its pretty straight forward in its intent. There is nothing shady or devious about the site which is one of the things that I like about it. Most of the people on there are actors, dancers, models, bartenders, DJs, hairdressers, or in the arts some how. Ok so heres my beef. Take a look as some of the profiles below:

http://www.connexion.org/viewallphotos.cfm?id=338131&sret=5,*,0

http://www.connexion.org/viewallphotos.cfm?id=243812&sret=5,*,0

http://www.connexion.org/viewallphotos.cfm?id=362917&sret=5,*,0

http://www.connexion.org/viewallphotos.cfm?id=230797&sret=5,*,0

http://www.connexion.org/viewallphotos.cfm?id=283988&sret=5,*,0

I call foul. I mean real men don’t look like this. How the hell are the rest of us suppose to compete with that? I am sick of feeling like a am over weight and ugly. Why is it that I feel that I am not worth of dating someone because I don’t look like one of those guys? I have no idea. Ive done a lot in my life and I work my ass off… I might enjoy my chicken fingers a little too much and there might be one of two times at the gym when I’ve not done the last few reps because it was too heavy. This city is so image conscience I have no idea where to start. I was sitting in the park the first weekend when it got warm this year and the entire city of New York was in the part. It was the perfect place to watch as all of New York stripped down and you could see who had been working out for the winter and who had been storing food.

I was really happy that day (not at the fact that I couldn’t wear a sweater or something to cover my jello mid drift) becasue ive been working on protecting the sideways compliment. You know the compliment that is really an insult and I got one out that day that was prefect. So when I dated The Child a few years back, we call him the Child for the way he acted and ended the relationship… like a child, he introduced me to all of his friends. Let me tell you. I have never met a bitchy group of awful queens. Think of your high school. Now take the office receptionist, the lunch lady, and that strangely masculine lady gym teacher and roll them all into one and you have this group of guys. Ive rolled with some tough crowds in my day but I will not go anywhere near this group. Its poison. Anyways I saw the queen bee (pun intended) and walked over. Said “hey, beautiful day, so nice to see you, blah blah blah…” and so on for a few minutes. He was shortly and I said. “I’m really impressed. I have almost the exact same body shape and I would never take my shirt off in the park.” It made me smile as I walked away.

Im not sure what it is about this city. Body Dysmorphic Disorder I think should just be taking over everyone. I was in a bar a few weeks ago with a few friends just hanging out and having a good time. The bartender was in briefs as most are in gay bars in this great city. I usually don’t pay much attention as they are the help, another reason I have an issue with connexion but I will get back to that point in a moment, and you never fuck the help and god forbid you date the help. Anyways, this bartender was gorgeous. Well gorgeous enough for me to notice. And in a very non sexual, non creepy, nonchalant kinda way I said “you have a very nice body.” I feel it was almost like telling a women you work with you like her blouse or telling your mom you like her earrings. There was nothing to it. The bartender smiles and says, “Thanks, but I don’t date fat guys.” I didn’t respond. But as he watched, I picked up the money that I had put down on the bar for a tip.

Its shit like that that stops me from walking up to someone in a bar and starting a conversation. I would never have the nerve to say hello to someone after that. But blah blah blah.

All this stems from being on camera for the past few days. I had a few presentations and had to tape a couple of videos and I watched myself all day. It was horrific.

Julien

So the good news is that I finally got to the point where I was sick of wanting, wishing, and hoping that Julien and this book would just jump out of my head and onto the page. I’m finally ready to do something about it. Something has changed and I have no idea what that is. I want this book to be written so badly. I know the book is in my head. I see it when I close my eyes, I feel it when I think about the characters, and I can still smell the trees in the square at the end of Rue Merindol every once and a while when I walk through this city. I know its there but I need to figure out how to get it out. Ive started to outline the book and I want to give myself a good amount of time to write it. There are several things I want to do before I start on this project. This blog is one of them. I want to spend sometime writing everything that pops into my head here before I start with the novel. It needs to be done correctly and it needs to be given the care and skill that is deserves. Also, there are about 4 books that I need to read before I start on this endeavor. Because “a writer who writes more than he reads is a sure sign of an amateur.”

Im so scared that this book is going to be a total waste of my time. I was talking to my friend Larry the other day after book club and I told him that I would rather not write this book and leave it trapped in the recesses of my mind for all time that to write it and not do it justice. I don’t know what to do in this situation. The story is perfect that way it is, the way I see it. It is the greatest story ever told in my mind. Love, life, self exploration, pain, lose, all with the backdrop of Provence. It is visually stunning. Two lost boys who can find no direction in this world but together they are a little less alone. The story ends shortly after it begins but one boy is left forever changed by the experience.

Maybe my entire life is going to be filled with quiet nights in a dark room with music from that time in my life playing the background while I replay the faded after images of a doomed love affair over and over in my head. Ill keep you updated as things progress with the outline.

The James Story as Promised

James contacted me in a couple of times in the fall and I did a very good job of dodging him. I got an email from him in early September telling me that he and Hamlet were to be married. Wait, I’m getting ahead of myself, I always seem to do that in these stories, let me back up and give you the entire story.

As many of you know, James and I split amicably when I moved back to New York after my time in Sydney. We then entered a very strange situation where we really didn’t know what we were. It was the classic and futile story of emotions battling geography. 10,000 miles is too far for the biggest plane to fly and too far for love to sustain and not fade. After I returned to the east, James was to move to Singapore in July of last year, we were to live together for a couple of months, while I finished up my assignment and he finished his PhD. He was going to get a TA post at the Uni in Singapore and I was going to apply for jobs in Sydney (I was actually offered one, but alas things never work out the way we plan) to keep all geographic options open. If the few months of living with me worked, we planned on making a commitment and start to build a life together. We would find a place be it in New York, Sydney, or a 3rd option. But before I could commit to James I needed to know that we could live together and do the day to day. I wasn’t going to base a life changing decision on 6 months of dating someone. Apparently that wasn’t good enough for James and he took another road.

He told me when I was in Europe to visit him that he had met Hamlet and they were fighting the urges for a more intimate relationship due to James’s lingering romantic entanglement with me. I told him that he was the only person that could tell him what he wanted and he would have to let me know. He did. He dumped me like yesterdays garbage. The two men that I have loved in my life and told me they loved me have thrown me to the curb faster that a night with Bratboy. I don’t understand if you love someone and want to make a life with them how you can just thrown them away. Ive spent years trying to convince myself that neither really cared for me and that I was a simply play thing but I cant do it. There must have been something there in both of these relationships. But at the end of the day there is no point in chasing silly phantasms. Ultimately James picked Hamlet over me and returned to Europe to be with him and Alex picked a French porn star and that was the last I heard of him.

As I said, James tried to contact me a few times throughout the fall. One of the correspondences was the wedding announcement. After reading the email several times to make sure that I wasn’t hallucinating I calmly stood up from my desk, an I walked into an empty conference room and without turning on the lights I crawled under the conference table. The late afternoon sunlight was coming in through the floor to ceiling windows and I lay very still on the floor of this rented conference room in Singapore for over an hour and just watched the boats in Singapore harbor silently glide by. I have no idea what I thought about in that time under the conference table. All I remember is being still and trying to cry. But I found that when your brain is empty so are your tear ducts. About an hour later the anger came. It wasn’t so much anger that he had passed me over for Hamlet, it was more of that jealous anger that again, someone else found happiness and I was left sick (I was in the middle of the mono crisis of 2008 at that point), alone, and sad while he was capturing the time of his life in Europe. 4 days later a sent a simple note back to James wishing him and Hamlet all the happiness in the world and many years of joy to come. Strangely I was devoid of feelings about the situation as I hit the send button.

The heat of Singapore help burn off all the negative feelings I had about James and my return to New York was eventful to say the least with losing my job and have to find another one. What can I say. In my life, when it rains it pours. But what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger and I have made it through much worse on my own. I went to catholic school for god sakes.

In early December I get a note from James that me misses me as a friend and wants me back in his life. I am furious. How dare he! The emotions on this one were two fold. The first and simplest of all the emotions was pride. They always come back. The Whore, The Child, and now James. I use nicknames of course to protect the guilty. They go a little time without me in their lives they always come crawling back. It’s a small sense of pride until I realize that the reason that come back is the good feelings they associate with me. This is Usually because they dumped me and have no bad taste left in their mouths from the relationship. At this point I figure out that 9 times out of 10 something has gone wrong in their lives and they need emotional reassurance and renewal from me. The pride fades and turns to anger. So we are back to how dare he! I push him off a few more times and even go as far as tell him that he cannot call.
Finally I tell him that he has to tell me what is going on because I want nothing to do with him. He breaks it down for me. Hamlet is cheating, stealing his money, and he is generally unhappy. He wants to move but has no money and doesn’t know what to do. He needs help and doesn’t know who to turn to. So what do I do? I help him. I talk him through all of his situations, try to calm him down, let him bitch to me about how hamlet has never been honest to him. Together we put together an escape plan, for lack of a better word. We gets out, starts a new life on his own. I get a small thank you which in nice. But once he is back on his feet and on the right track he stops contacting me. Type sucker on my forehead.

I haven’t spoken to him in 4 months. I miss him everyday. I never want to speak with him again. I wish him all the luck and joy in the world.

Amazing Sex

Another sex drought… amazing isn’t it. You probably would never have seen that one coming from me would you? It isn’t a recurring theme in my life at all. I love when you start to get to this point after months and months of no sex, that combination point of being dead inside and wanting to jump everything you see in a 3 piece suit and chiseled jaw. Just for your reference the last time I had sex was on Halloween and let me tell you it was not the most fantastic time of my life.

Before I go into the amazing sexcapade of all hollows eve let me take you back one more. I was rereading my posts from last summer when I was in Singapore and I mention I hadn’t had sex since February 2008. Well that’s a mystery to me because I cant for the life of me remember who the hell I had sex with in February last year. Oops. Isn’t that the sign of a whore? Maybe I should start to write this shit down… hint hint hint… if I wasn’t so crap at keeping up with writing I would have several books out and I would be living off the proceeds in the south of France with my Italian lover… but I digress.

So anyways. James dumped me in July of last year… surprise surprise… I knew it was a bad idea going in but I walked willingly and happily into disaster and I loved every minute of our relationship. I still moan it to this day… not to say that I haven’t moved on with my life but I still think what it and I try to figure out if what we had was love or if it was just something masquerading as love. I hear that enthrallment, a very underutilized emotion sometimes dresses up as love and plays with people. Like the rest of us enthrallment is jealous of love and all the attention it gets. Maybe if you’re lucky ill write another paragraph about him later in this post and update you on everything that happened. But right now im talking about sex because I cant get it out of my head.

So the weekend after James dumped me my roommate was in India and I did something that I rarely do. I picked up my brick of a Singaporean mobile phone and I called Bratboy (that was his nickname) to come over and break one or two Singaporean laws with me. I set the mood… Portishead playing throughout the house, 75 candles burning, black underwear. I also drank a half bottle of vodka that was in the fridge before he got there. I was ready. When he arrived at quarter to 4 in the morning I was nearly asleep on the settee in the living room. He showered and I removed his towel and pulled him on top of me on the bed. 12 ½ minutes later he slapped me on the ass and started to clean himself up. Let’s just say if it were a race, he definitely beat me and finished in record time. Most of the time I don’t mind not crossing the finish line. For me its not really about the end of the race, its about how many twists and turns are on the course and the ability and skills of the other contestants. The end is an added bonus. I do like getting close to that goal. Getting close, moving further away, getting close again. It can all be a fun little game. Apparently they don’t play that game where Bratboy was from. Where I like being close lets just say for that evening I was very far. Also, I forgot to mention that he sneezed on me halfway through. Needless to say the evening didn’t live up to everything that I was hoping for but I went for a swim and got a massage the next day and went on with my life. Well I thought that everything was over but I get strep 3 days later and a month later I had mono. So the moral of this story is never never have revenge sex.

But im totally missing my point, I started to write about my night of passion on Halloween and told you about my july sex instead. I get very drunk on Halloween last year. It was a Friday from what I remember and we had an outing with the gay group from work. I drank a bottle of champagne in typical MJ style and proceeded to walk the streets of Chelsea with two friends of mine to dinner. We met up with a fellow Oodler from our Brazil operations who joined us. After dinner the Brazilian dressed as Robin from Batman and Robin, which he will be lovingly referred to from here on in accompanied me to one of the many gay bars in Chelsea. At a dive of a bar in Chelsea I met Superman. Well he was a lame excuse for Superman but his costume had a built in chest and he looked good. Maybe it was the copious amounts of alcohol, the childhood fantasies of Superman, or maybe the stars were in line but I told Robin to take a hike. Literally I turned to Robin, a man whom I work at the same company with, told him I was getting laid and he was going to cramp my style, said it was nice meeting him and pushed him out the door. I kid you not… I pushed him. This is the part of the story that still makes me smile. I’ve said some awful things to people in bars and I’ve had my fair share of awful one liners thrown at me but I have no idea where this one came from. I walked over to Superman and said, mind you this is the first thing that Ive ever said this is person, “can I buy you a drink or do you just want to go back to my place and fuck?” I didn’t waiver, I didn’t laugh, I was dead serious. It was like I wasn’t driving. That isn’t me. But he was on point. Without skipping a beat of batting an eyelash he responded. He poured his drink out on the floor and said, “looks like I’ve finished my drink, lets go now.”

Amazing set up. I would never believe it if I hadn’t lived it. So we have sex that evening. I will spare you the blow by blow, no pun intended, because for this evening of passion the Devil was not in the details. He was no were to be found. For once I needed him to make life a little harder, pun totally intended, and he buggered off, like me having sex for the second time in that year wasn’t enough for him to take notice.

In the span of 15 hours that Superman was at my house he finished the race 12 times. I kid you not it was like a fire hydrant that someone broke off the cap. There was no stopping it once it started. Also, Superman was not so super. Let’s just say I’ve seen bigger Chap Stick containers. So at the end of the event the score was 12 to 0. Again, FAR!!!! But the best is yet to come. So after the first 9 rounds we decide to sleep. I walk him up again and we start to go. 1, 2, 3 and right before the 4 he goes to grab the metal bed frame and rips a gash in his hand. He starts to profusely bleed all over the place. It looked like a murder scene. There was blood everywhere, and unless you’re into horror porn or blood as lube it’s a great way to kill the mood. I kicked him out and showered for 2 hours. Gross.

But I started writing all of this due to the fact that im getting to that point where I want to start to call ex boyfriends, ex lovers, or randars to come over and help me out, if you get my drift. I just have to keep reminding myself that that isn’t a good idea and it never works out the way that I would want it to.

Cambodia Monkey Attack

Ok.. this video was taken on my trip to Cambodia last May. Still one of the funniest things I saw last year. I laughed (as you can hear in the video) so hard I almost peed my pants.

For your viewing pleasure:

And We're Back!

Ok Ok Ok... I know its been forever and a day since I have written. All I can say i that I got a little distracted. I promise that in 2009 I am going to make a conscious effort to update this blog more often. But I wanted to add a few music videos... These are some of my favorite music videos of all time... NOT MY FAVORITE SONGS... favorite videos. I will add other lists soon.

Number 5:



Salif Keita ~ Madan
Who doesnt love a little finger sex?



Number 4:



Royksopp ~ Remind Me



Number 3:



Justice ~ D.A.N.C.E.


Number 2:



Daft Punk ~ Around the World
The song that made me fall in love with trance music.


Number 1:



Kylie Minogue ~ Come Into My World
Fantastic video and concept.