Before I begin, I must say: I am a terrible blogger. I haven't updated in WEEKS. Mainly because it's been a busy life and a lot of things happened very quickly. I got 2 new jobs (youtube and ChaCha) and I'm moving in with S. Expect more entries about her in the coming months.
But this blog is not about why I'm terrible at blogging (as interesting as that would be.) It's about how my daydreams usually turn into nightmares. Now, don't get me wrong. I don't suddenly jolt out of my daydreams screaming and dripping with sweat. No, but I do often daydream about terrible, terrible events.
For instance, recently during a road trip with S, we pulled over for gas as can be expected. And as she was pumping gas and I was walking inside to use the restroom, I got this image in my head of the gas pump some how spontaneously exploding in a fiery terror, consuming S completely. I saw myself feel the blast, duck out of instinct but also turn around as if in slow motion. And when I saw S consumed in flames, screaming for her life and in tremendous pain, I imagined myself falling to the ground with my mouth gaping open, yelling at the top of my lungs as well. I was in complete shock. What else could I do?........This image disturbed me so much that I stopped dead in my tracks and take just the quickest glance back to make sure that she was still alive and fire-less.
And this happens all the time. I imagine myself diving into a pool, striking my head on the bottom and never surfacing again. I see all of my friends in chic black outfits, standing over me at my funeral.
I imagine my mother perishing in terrible car accidents caused by my brothers' reckless driving.
I see my cat getting into the medicine cabinet and accidentally overdosing on Advil.
Does anyone else see how disturbing this is? I shouldn't have thoughts like this; constantly paranoid of death or dying. Sure, I'll go on the occasional Wikipedia-spiral about various famous massacres or terrorist attacks (Columbine, Oklahoma City Bombing, Waco Siege, etc.) But why do I imagine these terrible things happening to the people I love? Am I that desperate for drama in my life? Do I require tragedy to make my life feel interesting?
Nah...I think I just need to stay away from Wikipedia for a while...
-K
December 22, 2010
December 2, 2010
Social Networking
Recently I have come to accept me addiction to the internet, specifically social networking sites. And since I feel I am addicted to this.......thing, I have earned the right to review them. And I will do so now.
YouTube
Ahhh, my first love. I've recently been partnered on YouTube which means that they'll now pay me to put ads in and next to my videos. I love YouTube. I really do. I feel it's a great way to connect and interact with people all over the world. It's a source of entertainment, news, fashion advice, technology advice, even education. YouTube is one of those phenomenons that kind of explodes out of no where...and it's because of that immediate popularity, I wonder just how long it will remain popular. Will it fall into the realm of slap bracelets and gigapets? Or will it prove to be lasting like denim jeans or Google? Either way, I'm giving it 5/5 stars.
*****
Facebook
Oh Facebook. I got my facebook back when you still needed a ".edu" e-mail address. And I watched as it opened it's arms to any active e-mail address and watched as it sold it's precious digital acres to ads and added games and fan pages. Some people find the personalized ads to be creepy and freak out over the privacy settings of their accounts. As for me, I welcome the ads centered around my lifestyle and interests. I can't tell you how many times I've deleted an e-mail because it said, "Interested in larger breasts?" Uh....no. Thank you. I like my "breasts" the size that they are...As for letting any Tom, Dick and Harry make a facebook account, I can't say that I'm against it. The creators (Mark Zuckerberg and his college roommates) of Facebook made a VERY good business choice when they chose to do what seemed like selling out: putting ads on facebook. It didn't take long for Mark to realize the potential of Facebook and I'm sure he saw how much money this could make him. So he did what every other American in his position would have done: went for the dough. I keep my facebook very private, practically unsearchable. And I use it to connect with people that I genuinely care about and have met in real life. For this, I give it 5/5 stars.
*****
Twitter
Twitter is something that I admitingly came into late (and I've already discussed this in this post.) But I quickly became adept at using and have gone through what I like to call the 4 Phases of Twitterdom. Phase 1: You tweet once just to see how it all works out and marvel at your creation. It probably says something along the lines of "Hello!" "So I decided to make a twitter account..." or "Testing....testing..." The people in this phase are the newborns of Twitter. They don't do much, barely opening their eyes, occasionally making a noise. They're cute and need to be coaxed out of their little homes. Phase 2: OBSESSIVE TWEETING! Those people caught in phase 2 tweet every 5 seconds about every thought that comes into their head and every movement they make. They're the toddlers of Twitter. They're just so excited about the world that they have to share every piece of it with everyone they know. They're annoying and seemingly loud and often get unfollowed. Phase 3: Angsty Tweeting. Of all the phases, this one is skipped most often. It's the phase where the tweeter only tweets song lyrics or movie quotes. No original thoughts because "words just aren't enough." These are the teenage years of Twitter. These people find the 140 character count limiting and annoying. They're also often unfollowed due to their lack on interesting things to say. Then Phase 4: Just Relax. This phase is the most pleasant and sought after phase. These are the adults of Twitter. They tweet when something funny happens or exciting news. They tweet provocative thoughts or perhaps something embarrassing that they're willing to share with their friends.This is what twitter was designed for.
All in all, Twitter is actually very useful and entertaining. It's efficient and has yet to get boring. In fact, when I find my Twitter feed starting to bore me, I just go and find new people to follow and that seems to vamp it up enough to seem like a brand new website. But again, I must ask the question: will it last? To be honest? I don't think so. I think it'll last until a new generation finds something else to be cooler. For that, I give 4/5 stars.
****
MySpace
I have but a few words for this website: old. MySpace tried to maximize it's potential by giving the users what they wanted: personalization. However, they took it too far and it forced people to leave to Facebook. I remember it took what seemed like HOURS to load someone's MySpace page due to all of the pictures and backgrounds and music they had put on there. It was ridiculous. MySpace is even trying to do a mash-up with Facebook to try and get more users to come back. Let me tell you, FAIL. 2/5 stars
**
Tumblr
Tumblr, in it's conception was a great idea. And when I started my account, I didn't quite know what to use it as. It seemed like a more complicated version of Twitter but without the perks of getting it sent to my phone. Sure, I could record audio tracks of me speaking and post them but....why do that when I can just text in what I'm thinking to Twitter? It just seemed like another venue for people to post porn and blog about their feelings....which no one cares about. 2/5 stars.
**
Formspring
Again, a great idea in it's conception. A place where people could ask questions to each other in hopes of getting to know each other. But I found that the less people that use this website, the less fun it becomes. Sure, it was GREAT to wake up and have 9 or 10 questions waiting for me. But when it got to be about 1 or 2 questions a month, I was over it. I didn't feel motivated to check the website. And I figured "Maybe I need to ask questions to get questions!" So for about two weeks, I regularly asked people questions. But did I get the same courtesy? No. All I got was an empty inbox and answers that I didn't want to know in the first place. Nice try, formspring. Come back to me when you're more viral. 3/5 stars.
***
DailyBooth
Honestly? I think Dailybooth is a genius idea. They took something that people loved doing (taking pictures of themselves) and allowed them to share them with the world. Some people feel that because of the title, they need to post pictures everyday. And if followers are what you're after, then yes, you should. But if you just want to post goofy pictures of you and your friends and could care less about who sees them, then that works too. I personally use it as a photoblog. I started a photoblog back when I was a sophomore in college about brushing your teeth. I'd take a picture of me posing with my toothbrush in my mouth every day. It kind of fizzled out when I ran out of ideas. But when I discovered Dailybooth, I decided it was time to revamp my old blog. And I seem to have gotten a good response to it. I often get responses of people brushing their teeth in a similar manner. It's fun. It's new. It's goofy. 4/5 stars.
****
MeetUp
This is not a well-known social networking site...yet. But I have a feeling that it has the potential to explode. MeetUp is a website where people can find others of similar interests, lifestyles, etc and, you guessed it, meet up. It's amazing for making new friends in a city where you don't know many people. I use it to find the hidden gay men of this city (there aren't many of us) and to find local YouTube Gatherings. But again, it's a website that gets better with more usage. For that, 3/5 stars.
***
VYou
I've saved this site for last because it is my most recent discovery. VYou is a website much like FormSpring where complete strangers (or people you know) can ask you any question you want and you respond with a video of yourself answering the question. I feel that this has GREAT potential. It's combining two of my favorite things: making new friends and making videos. The only drawback is you HAVE to have a webcam to do it. You can't record your videos on something else and then upload your responses. The website is still in Beta mode right now so uploading may be a feature in the future (say that 5 times fast.) But so far? I love it. 3/5 stars for not really knowing much about it.
***
I hope you enjoyed my reviews and if you've made it this far, you must be a true fan and for that, I love you. I really do. Let me know what you think of these sites. Who knows? You might change my opinion.
-K
YouTube
Ahhh, my first love. I've recently been partnered on YouTube which means that they'll now pay me to put ads in and next to my videos. I love YouTube. I really do. I feel it's a great way to connect and interact with people all over the world. It's a source of entertainment, news, fashion advice, technology advice, even education. YouTube is one of those phenomenons that kind of explodes out of no where...and it's because of that immediate popularity, I wonder just how long it will remain popular. Will it fall into the realm of slap bracelets and gigapets? Or will it prove to be lasting like denim jeans or Google? Either way, I'm giving it 5/5 stars.
*****
Oh Facebook. I got my facebook back when you still needed a ".edu" e-mail address. And I watched as it opened it's arms to any active e-mail address and watched as it sold it's precious digital acres to ads and added games and fan pages. Some people find the personalized ads to be creepy and freak out over the privacy settings of their accounts. As for me, I welcome the ads centered around my lifestyle and interests. I can't tell you how many times I've deleted an e-mail because it said, "Interested in larger breasts?" Uh....no. Thank you. I like my "breasts" the size that they are...As for letting any Tom, Dick and Harry make a facebook account, I can't say that I'm against it. The creators (Mark Zuckerberg and his college roommates) of Facebook made a VERY good business choice when they chose to do what seemed like selling out: putting ads on facebook. It didn't take long for Mark to realize the potential of Facebook and I'm sure he saw how much money this could make him. So he did what every other American in his position would have done: went for the dough. I keep my facebook very private, practically unsearchable. And I use it to connect with people that I genuinely care about and have met in real life. For this, I give it 5/5 stars.
*****
Twitter is something that I admitingly came into late (and I've already discussed this in this post.) But I quickly became adept at using and have gone through what I like to call the 4 Phases of Twitterdom. Phase 1: You tweet once just to see how it all works out and marvel at your creation. It probably says something along the lines of "Hello!" "So I decided to make a twitter account..." or "Testing....testing..." The people in this phase are the newborns of Twitter. They don't do much, barely opening their eyes, occasionally making a noise. They're cute and need to be coaxed out of their little homes. Phase 2: OBSESSIVE TWEETING! Those people caught in phase 2 tweet every 5 seconds about every thought that comes into their head and every movement they make. They're the toddlers of Twitter. They're just so excited about the world that they have to share every piece of it with everyone they know. They're annoying and seemingly loud and often get unfollowed. Phase 3: Angsty Tweeting. Of all the phases, this one is skipped most often. It's the phase where the tweeter only tweets song lyrics or movie quotes. No original thoughts because "words just aren't enough." These are the teenage years of Twitter. These people find the 140 character count limiting and annoying. They're also often unfollowed due to their lack on interesting things to say. Then Phase 4: Just Relax. This phase is the most pleasant and sought after phase. These are the adults of Twitter. They tweet when something funny happens or exciting news. They tweet provocative thoughts or perhaps something embarrassing that they're willing to share with their friends.This is what twitter was designed for.
All in all, Twitter is actually very useful and entertaining. It's efficient and has yet to get boring. In fact, when I find my Twitter feed starting to bore me, I just go and find new people to follow and that seems to vamp it up enough to seem like a brand new website. But again, I must ask the question: will it last? To be honest? I don't think so. I think it'll last until a new generation finds something else to be cooler. For that, I give 4/5 stars.
****
MySpace
I have but a few words for this website: old. MySpace tried to maximize it's potential by giving the users what they wanted: personalization. However, they took it too far and it forced people to leave to Facebook. I remember it took what seemed like HOURS to load someone's MySpace page due to all of the pictures and backgrounds and music they had put on there. It was ridiculous. MySpace is even trying to do a mash-up with Facebook to try and get more users to come back. Let me tell you, FAIL. 2/5 stars
**
Tumblr
Tumblr, in it's conception was a great idea. And when I started my account, I didn't quite know what to use it as. It seemed like a more complicated version of Twitter but without the perks of getting it sent to my phone. Sure, I could record audio tracks of me speaking and post them but....why do that when I can just text in what I'm thinking to Twitter? It just seemed like another venue for people to post porn and blog about their feelings....which no one cares about. 2/5 stars.
**
Formspring
Again, a great idea in it's conception. A place where people could ask questions to each other in hopes of getting to know each other. But I found that the less people that use this website, the less fun it becomes. Sure, it was GREAT to wake up and have 9 or 10 questions waiting for me. But when it got to be about 1 or 2 questions a month, I was over it. I didn't feel motivated to check the website. And I figured "Maybe I need to ask questions to get questions!" So for about two weeks, I regularly asked people questions. But did I get the same courtesy? No. All I got was an empty inbox and answers that I didn't want to know in the first place. Nice try, formspring. Come back to me when you're more viral. 3/5 stars.
***
DailyBooth
Honestly? I think Dailybooth is a genius idea. They took something that people loved doing (taking pictures of themselves) and allowed them to share them with the world. Some people feel that because of the title, they need to post pictures everyday. And if followers are what you're after, then yes, you should. But if you just want to post goofy pictures of you and your friends and could care less about who sees them, then that works too. I personally use it as a photoblog. I started a photoblog back when I was a sophomore in college about brushing your teeth. I'd take a picture of me posing with my toothbrush in my mouth every day. It kind of fizzled out when I ran out of ideas. But when I discovered Dailybooth, I decided it was time to revamp my old blog. And I seem to have gotten a good response to it. I often get responses of people brushing their teeth in a similar manner. It's fun. It's new. It's goofy. 4/5 stars.
****
MeetUp
This is not a well-known social networking site...yet. But I have a feeling that it has the potential to explode. MeetUp is a website where people can find others of similar interests, lifestyles, etc and, you guessed it, meet up. It's amazing for making new friends in a city where you don't know many people. I use it to find the hidden gay men of this city (there aren't many of us) and to find local YouTube Gatherings. But again, it's a website that gets better with more usage. For that, 3/5 stars.
***
VYou
I've saved this site for last because it is my most recent discovery. VYou is a website much like FormSpring where complete strangers (or people you know) can ask you any question you want and you respond with a video of yourself answering the question. I feel that this has GREAT potential. It's combining two of my favorite things: making new friends and making videos. The only drawback is you HAVE to have a webcam to do it. You can't record your videos on something else and then upload your responses. The website is still in Beta mode right now so uploading may be a feature in the future (say that 5 times fast.) But so far? I love it. 3/5 stars for not really knowing much about it.
***
I hope you enjoyed my reviews and if you've made it this far, you must be a true fan and for that, I love you. I really do. Let me know what you think of these sites. Who knows? You might change my opinion.
-K
November 23, 2010
A few of my favorite things...
So today sucked. Like...worse than any other sucky day I've ever had. That's not to say that today was the WORST day of my life, that'd be pathetic and extreme. No. But of all the sucky days I've had, this one sucked the worst.
So to put myself in a better mood, I'm going to list a few of my favorite things:
- kissing boys (surprisingly, I like this more than sex with boys.)
- social networking
- reading a classic novel
- laughing
- the sound of my typewriter
- making desserts with my mother
- watching television with my best friend
- sleeping with my head on someone's lap
- tying my shoelaces
- clean sheets
- going to the movies
- buying books
- eating candy
- catching up with old friends
- lying to strangers on planes (I might have to do a separate blog post about this one.)
- holding my nephew
- blue pens (as opposed to black pens)
- watching the leaves filter the sunlight
- snow
- my stuffed bear
- wrapping presents
- Christmas lights
- coffee with milk and sugar
- British accents
- the color green
- simply existing in the same room as someone that I love
What are some of your favorite things?
-K
So to put myself in a better mood, I'm going to list a few of my favorite things:
- kissing boys (surprisingly, I like this more than sex with boys.)
- social networking
- reading a classic novel
- laughing
- the sound of my typewriter
- making desserts with my mother
- watching television with my best friend
- sleeping with my head on someone's lap
- tying my shoelaces
- clean sheets
- going to the movies
- buying books
- eating candy
- catching up with old friends
- lying to strangers on planes (I might have to do a separate blog post about this one.)
- holding my nephew
- blue pens (as opposed to black pens)
- watching the leaves filter the sunlight
- snow
- my stuffed bear
- wrapping presents
- Christmas lights
- coffee with milk and sugar
- British accents
- the color green
- simply existing in the same room as someone that I love
What are some of your favorite things?
-K
November 21, 2010
On Death and Dying
I have been to exactly four funerals and six grave sites in my life. I have buried two pets. I've watched countless movies and television shows where people have died and been put into the ground or had their ashes spread at various sites. Not once have I cried.
I always feel a little weird when death enters my life. I feel like I should feel sadder. Like I should be a sobbing mess on the floor or hiding in my bed with no apatite or will to move. But usually when I find the need to pull out my black slacks and tie, I find myself gently patting someone on the back and handing them a tissue. I find myself stoic and robotic.
It's not that I'm emotionless...in fact, it's quite the opposite. The most recent funeral I went to was that of my Uncle C. He was the second eldest brother of my mother and the father of two of my favorite cousins. At the funeral, I sat beside my brother, J. Not one for seriousness, J was cracking jokes and trying to get everyone's mind off the sadness that overwhelmed them. Me? I found myself thinking things like, "Did my phone just vibrate? If it did, it was probably twitter. I wonder what S is doing right now. She's probably sleeping. Jealous. I wish I was sleeping. I wonder if I'll have time to nap after this. When does Grey's Anatomy start? Next week? Next month? What happened in the last episode? What day is it? Tuesday? Shit, I've gotta make a video for Thursday." Death just doesn't effect me. I don't know if I emotionally cut myself off enough that the loss of their life is not something that brings me to tears or if I just haven't been close enough to those that have died for me to have a true reaction.
I find this to be especially true for pets. Recently, I awoke one night to my mother holding my cat, B, in her arms and sobbing. B was twitching all over and looked scared out of her wits. I asked my mother what's wrong and she said that she didn't know but B was having seizures. At first we didn't know what we were going to do. We couldn't think of what could have possibly happened to the cat to cause this and it came to us that B just might die. My mother, the animal lover she is, sobbed uncontrollably. Me? I just sat there. Petting B, thinking about where we were going to bury her and what we were going to have to say to my brother who was asleep at the time. (By the way, it turns out that my mother had accidentally given B the wrong flea medicine and we took her to the vet. She's doing just fine now.)
Don't get me wrong, I love my cat. I really do. I pet and love on her every day. I snuggle with her in the afternoons and play with her in the evenings. I even give her a proper bath about once a month. But the idea of her dying just really has no effect on me. I suppose something taught me a long time ago that death is a natural part of life and it isn't anything to cry over.
Still though...it'd be nice to feel something at the idea of losing a loved one.
-K
I always feel a little weird when death enters my life. I feel like I should feel sadder. Like I should be a sobbing mess on the floor or hiding in my bed with no apatite or will to move. But usually when I find the need to pull out my black slacks and tie, I find myself gently patting someone on the back and handing them a tissue. I find myself stoic and robotic.
It's not that I'm emotionless...in fact, it's quite the opposite. The most recent funeral I went to was that of my Uncle C. He was the second eldest brother of my mother and the father of two of my favorite cousins. At the funeral, I sat beside my brother, J. Not one for seriousness, J was cracking jokes and trying to get everyone's mind off the sadness that overwhelmed them. Me? I found myself thinking things like, "Did my phone just vibrate? If it did, it was probably twitter. I wonder what S is doing right now. She's probably sleeping. Jealous. I wish I was sleeping. I wonder if I'll have time to nap after this. When does Grey's Anatomy start? Next week? Next month? What happened in the last episode? What day is it? Tuesday? Shit, I've gotta make a video for Thursday." Death just doesn't effect me. I don't know if I emotionally cut myself off enough that the loss of their life is not something that brings me to tears or if I just haven't been close enough to those that have died for me to have a true reaction.
I find this to be especially true for pets. Recently, I awoke one night to my mother holding my cat, B, in her arms and sobbing. B was twitching all over and looked scared out of her wits. I asked my mother what's wrong and she said that she didn't know but B was having seizures. At first we didn't know what we were going to do. We couldn't think of what could have possibly happened to the cat to cause this and it came to us that B just might die. My mother, the animal lover she is, sobbed uncontrollably. Me? I just sat there. Petting B, thinking about where we were going to bury her and what we were going to have to say to my brother who was asleep at the time. (By the way, it turns out that my mother had accidentally given B the wrong flea medicine and we took her to the vet. She's doing just fine now.)
Don't get me wrong, I love my cat. I really do. I pet and love on her every day. I snuggle with her in the afternoons and play with her in the evenings. I even give her a proper bath about once a month. But the idea of her dying just really has no effect on me. I suppose something taught me a long time ago that death is a natural part of life and it isn't anything to cry over.
Still though...it'd be nice to feel something at the idea of losing a loved one.
-K
November 19, 2010
Getting Dressed
Like any homo worth his salt, it takes me FOREVER to decide what to wear when I'm aiming to look cute. Granted, sometimes, I can get ready in five minutes or less but that's usually when I don't feel like trying and have resorted to literally throwing things on and hoping they land on the correct body parts.
However, recently I've noticed that it takes me a lot longer to get ready when I'm going out. Today I pondered on this fact for a while (also while staring at my closet trying to imagine each and every option for an outfit that I own.) And the only reasoning I can come up with is that I so rarely wear real clothes nowadays. I wake up (usually in my underwear) and put on my work uniform. After work, I come home and put on sweats until about 10pm where I strip down to my undies and get ready for bed. I'm either sporting a red polo and black slacks or my sweatpants. The opportunity to wear jeans and a t-shirt or a cute sweater or some amazing layering or even my tennis shoes comes so rarely that when I DO have the opportunity, I find myself overwhelmed with the possibilities.
I'm finding that I'm starting to wear the same 4 shirts when I go out. I mean, it makes sense; they're soft, adorable on me, current, and I make them look pretty effortless. But I can't keep wearing these same 4 shirts! I mean, sure I can mix up the colors but it's basically the same outfit and I'm fairly certain that my friends will see right through that. I only hang out with TWO people in this town and they can't keep seeing me in the same stuff all the time. So here I stand, staring blankly at my closet, imagining every piece of clothing I own on my body, trying to come up with a new outfit that no one's seen me in before. Being a homosexual is exhausting sometimes...
-K
However, recently I've noticed that it takes me a lot longer to get ready when I'm going out. Today I pondered on this fact for a while (also while staring at my closet trying to imagine each and every option for an outfit that I own.) And the only reasoning I can come up with is that I so rarely wear real clothes nowadays. I wake up (usually in my underwear) and put on my work uniform. After work, I come home and put on sweats until about 10pm where I strip down to my undies and get ready for bed. I'm either sporting a red polo and black slacks or my sweatpants. The opportunity to wear jeans and a t-shirt or a cute sweater or some amazing layering or even my tennis shoes comes so rarely that when I DO have the opportunity, I find myself overwhelmed with the possibilities.
I'm finding that I'm starting to wear the same 4 shirts when I go out. I mean, it makes sense; they're soft, adorable on me, current, and I make them look pretty effortless. But I can't keep wearing these same 4 shirts! I mean, sure I can mix up the colors but it's basically the same outfit and I'm fairly certain that my friends will see right through that. I only hang out with TWO people in this town and they can't keep seeing me in the same stuff all the time. So here I stand, staring blankly at my closet, imagining every piece of clothing I own on my body, trying to come up with a new outfit that no one's seen me in before. Being a homosexual is exhausting sometimes...
-K
November 17, 2010
Sometimes, these things happen.
Not for the first time in my life, I experienced bigotry. Hopefully, it's the last time I experience it in the work place.
Before I hurl myself in to a ranting story of what happened during the dinner shift at the restaurant in which I work, I must tell you, in case you weren't aware, that in the state of Texas, I can be fired for being a homosexual and I may not sue them for it. However, thankfully, in the cities of Houston, Dallas, El Paso, San Antonio and Fort Worth, I cannot be fired because I'm "different." (They passed individual laws protecting their citizens from bigotry like this.) This doesn't have anything to do with the story as my experience deals with a bigot "guest," as we're required to call them, and not with any of my co-workers.
In my place of work, I am a host. I greet people at the door, welcome them to our establishment, and walk the party to a predetermined table to wait to be fed like swine. I rarely engage in conversation with the patrons of the restaurant for one reason and one reason only: I don't care. I don't care about your movie plans, I don't care about the hurry you're in, I actually don't care that your clearly overweight child is "starving" and beginning to throw a fit because you've stopped shoveling food in it's mouth for five minutes. It's not my job to care. It's my job to pretend to care long enough for you to get out of my face and continue being the wasteful glutton you are.
During a particular bad rush one night, I was manning my post at the host stand, greeting "guests" happily, taking down their names and handing them black squares that vibrate and light up when their table is ready. In walks a large, serious looking man with an accent so thick, I almost didn't understand him....and I'm from Texas. He grumbles something about how long the wait is and as politely as I can, ask him "For how many?" (Side note for idiots: the larger your party, the longer you'll have to wait.) He mumbles THREE times to me a number after which his wife, annoyed at my inability to understand her knuckle-walker of a husband, steps up and shouts in my face "HE SAID SEVEN!" I take a step back, smile and write down their name and hand them a black cube. They step back about one giant step and stare at me as I continue to take names. In most locations of the restaurant that I work, the largest tables we have available seat 6 adults...slightly uncomfortably but in a rush, it'll due. And so as I'm seating people, I consciously keep from seating two of these 6 person tables so that the moment they're clean, I can pull them together and seat the neanderthal and his wasp of a wife.
I had quoted the party at just under 45 minutes and after half an hour, the wasp flits over to me. Her large head looked as if it were about to topple her entire body, or snap her back at the very least. "Uh...how much longer?" she asks, her giant head wavering back and forth with attitude. I explain to her that it'll still be at least another 15 minutes and that I'm trying to seat them as fast as possible.
In every hosts' life, there comes a time when you have to skip over a large party to seat other smaller parties on the list. It happens. It's not our fault you decided to bring your entire fuckin family to a restaurant at 8:00pm on a Saturday. Anyway, so I skip over the family of 7 and seat a kind old couple in a tiny booth made for two people off in a corner. When I came back to my host stand, the knuckle-walker of a man was fuming, tapping his foot and giving me the quick up-down. I ask him with a smile, "Is there something I can help you with sir?" Here was his response....with reality added in parenthesis.
"UH, YEAH! WE WERE HERE A FULL HOUR AND A HALF (40 minutes) BEFORE THAT COUPLE! AND YOU SAID IT WAS GONNA BE 2O MINUTES (30-45 minutes.) WE COULD HAVE SAT IN THAT BOOTH (no they couldn't.) THEY SHOULD MOVE (continue eating their dinner in peace) AND SEAT US THERE, YOU FAGGOT (genuinely nice person who's just doing his job.)"
As difficult as it was for me, I smiled. I grinned like a fucking idiot. As if I didn't even hear what he had said to me, what he called me....in front of a restaurant full of people. As kindly as I could, I told the barbarian that I would go get the manager and see if he could rectify the situation. The man stomped back over to his wife who was beaming with pride at what her husband had just done.
I retreated to the back of the kitchen where I explained the situation and what had happened to the manager on duty. The moment I told him what the ignorant man had called me, the manager smiled and said, "I'll handle this." And led me back to the host stand.
I only WISH I could have heard the entire conversation that went on between the man and my manager but I was busy seating people and taking down names. I did, however, catch the end of the conversation. My manager asked the man repeatedly if he had, indeed, called me a faggot. After asking about 7 times, the man finally relented and said, "Yes, I called him a faggot. I mean, look at him." My manager did, smiled at me, and turned back to the man. I held my breath. Depending on what came out of my managers mouth next would determine if I was going to quit on the spot or owe a ton of gratitude towards him.
"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."
Needless to say, I'm grateful to have such a caring manager and one who's not afraid to stand up to bigotry and recognize that words like these should never be used, in any setting and in any company. You just never know who you're going to piss off. But I understand, that sometimes, these things happen....I just refuse to take them lying down.
-K
Before I hurl myself in to a ranting story of what happened during the dinner shift at the restaurant in which I work, I must tell you, in case you weren't aware, that in the state of Texas, I can be fired for being a homosexual and I may not sue them for it. However, thankfully, in the cities of Houston, Dallas, El Paso, San Antonio and Fort Worth, I cannot be fired because I'm "different." (They passed individual laws protecting their citizens from bigotry like this.) This doesn't have anything to do with the story as my experience deals with a bigot "guest," as we're required to call them, and not with any of my co-workers.
In my place of work, I am a host. I greet people at the door, welcome them to our establishment, and walk the party to a predetermined table to wait to be fed like swine. I rarely engage in conversation with the patrons of the restaurant for one reason and one reason only: I don't care. I don't care about your movie plans, I don't care about the hurry you're in, I actually don't care that your clearly overweight child is "starving" and beginning to throw a fit because you've stopped shoveling food in it's mouth for five minutes. It's not my job to care. It's my job to pretend to care long enough for you to get out of my face and continue being the wasteful glutton you are.
During a particular bad rush one night, I was manning my post at the host stand, greeting "guests" happily, taking down their names and handing them black squares that vibrate and light up when their table is ready. In walks a large, serious looking man with an accent so thick, I almost didn't understand him....and I'm from Texas. He grumbles something about how long the wait is and as politely as I can, ask him "For how many?" (Side note for idiots: the larger your party, the longer you'll have to wait.) He mumbles THREE times to me a number after which his wife, annoyed at my inability to understand her knuckle-walker of a husband, steps up and shouts in my face "HE SAID SEVEN!" I take a step back, smile and write down their name and hand them a black cube. They step back about one giant step and stare at me as I continue to take names. In most locations of the restaurant that I work, the largest tables we have available seat 6 adults...slightly uncomfortably but in a rush, it'll due. And so as I'm seating people, I consciously keep from seating two of these 6 person tables so that the moment they're clean, I can pull them together and seat the neanderthal and his wasp of a wife.
I had quoted the party at just under 45 minutes and after half an hour, the wasp flits over to me. Her large head looked as if it were about to topple her entire body, or snap her back at the very least. "Uh...how much longer?" she asks, her giant head wavering back and forth with attitude. I explain to her that it'll still be at least another 15 minutes and that I'm trying to seat them as fast as possible.
In every hosts' life, there comes a time when you have to skip over a large party to seat other smaller parties on the list. It happens. It's not our fault you decided to bring your entire fuckin family to a restaurant at 8:00pm on a Saturday. Anyway, so I skip over the family of 7 and seat a kind old couple in a tiny booth made for two people off in a corner. When I came back to my host stand, the knuckle-walker of a man was fuming, tapping his foot and giving me the quick up-down. I ask him with a smile, "Is there something I can help you with sir?" Here was his response....with reality added in parenthesis.
"UH, YEAH! WE WERE HERE A FULL HOUR AND A HALF (40 minutes) BEFORE THAT COUPLE! AND YOU SAID IT WAS GONNA BE 2O MINUTES (30-45 minutes.) WE COULD HAVE SAT IN THAT BOOTH (no they couldn't.) THEY SHOULD MOVE (continue eating their dinner in peace) AND SEAT US THERE, YOU FAGGOT (genuinely nice person who's just doing his job.)"
As difficult as it was for me, I smiled. I grinned like a fucking idiot. As if I didn't even hear what he had said to me, what he called me....in front of a restaurant full of people. As kindly as I could, I told the barbarian that I would go get the manager and see if he could rectify the situation. The man stomped back over to his wife who was beaming with pride at what her husband had just done.
I retreated to the back of the kitchen where I explained the situation and what had happened to the manager on duty. The moment I told him what the ignorant man had called me, the manager smiled and said, "I'll handle this." And led me back to the host stand.
I only WISH I could have heard the entire conversation that went on between the man and my manager but I was busy seating people and taking down names. I did, however, catch the end of the conversation. My manager asked the man repeatedly if he had, indeed, called me a faggot. After asking about 7 times, the man finally relented and said, "Yes, I called him a faggot. I mean, look at him." My manager did, smiled at me, and turned back to the man. I held my breath. Depending on what came out of my managers mouth next would determine if I was going to quit on the spot or owe a ton of gratitude towards him.
"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."
Needless to say, I'm grateful to have such a caring manager and one who's not afraid to stand up to bigotry and recognize that words like these should never be used, in any setting and in any company. You just never know who you're going to piss off. But I understand, that sometimes, these things happen....I just refuse to take them lying down.
-K
November 14, 2010
Trendsetter
Okay, as much as everyone likes to label me as the vain, self-centered gay man, I really don't see myself that way. And honestly, I don't really see myself as Holier-than-thou in the slightest but...there is, on occasion, evidence to the contrary.
Like most people my age, I had to wait until I got a college e-mail address to get my facebook and so by the time I got onto the site, nearly every college student in America had an account. But I know for a fact that I was the first in my circle of friends to get their account and set it up completely. I experienced a similar event with LiveJournal, Xanga, and MySpace. All of these I got at least two months before I knew anyone that had an account on these websites.
Now, I'll be the first to admit that I was late to Twitter. I really was. Thousands of people had Twitter accounts before I ever did. However, I only knew (irl) of one person that had an account and she was actually the one that convinced me to get one. And it seemed to me that the WEEK after I got my account, everyone I knew had a Twitter account and were tweeting all the time and coming to me with all these questions about how to work all of the sites features and such. It was kind of surprising.
And as much as I'd like to think that I don't have this much sway over my friends, I can't help but recognize that none of them were willing to join these sites until after I had established my account. And ironically, as I write this blog, I'm noticing more and more of my friends just happen to also want to start a blog.
Do I really hold this much sway over my friends? Or am I just by happenstance slightly ahead of the curve? No one could know for sure...
-K
Like most people my age, I had to wait until I got a college e-mail address to get my facebook and so by the time I got onto the site, nearly every college student in America had an account. But I know for a fact that I was the first in my circle of friends to get their account and set it up completely. I experienced a similar event with LiveJournal, Xanga, and MySpace. All of these I got at least two months before I knew anyone that had an account on these websites.
Now, I'll be the first to admit that I was late to Twitter. I really was. Thousands of people had Twitter accounts before I ever did. However, I only knew (irl) of one person that had an account and she was actually the one that convinced me to get one. And it seemed to me that the WEEK after I got my account, everyone I knew had a Twitter account and were tweeting all the time and coming to me with all these questions about how to work all of the sites features and such. It was kind of surprising.
And as much as I'd like to think that I don't have this much sway over my friends, I can't help but recognize that none of them were willing to join these sites until after I had established my account. And ironically, as I write this blog, I'm noticing more and more of my friends just happen to also want to start a blog.
Do I really hold this much sway over my friends? Or am I just by happenstance slightly ahead of the curve? No one could know for sure...
-K
November 9, 2010
Straight guys
One thing I'll never be able to wrap my brain around is why straight guys seem to think that because they are male, every gay man will find them attractive and will come on to them in a very aggressive manner.
Most people will say that it's ignorance. But I can't help but wonder if it's just arrogance mixed with insecurity. Guys that think they're god's gift to women probably think that they're god's gift to gay men as well. And for those that are insecure, they've probably got some sort of repressed feelings. Those I feel the most pity for. I know how hard it is to hide in the closet. And I know how scary it is to finally crack the door and take a step out.
But to those that think that because they're hot, any and all gay guys want them...let me shed some light:
1) You're not my type. The fact that you like pussy automatically makes you "not my type." I like guys that like guys. Not guys that like girls. Liking guys that like girls doesn't make good business sense...if you know what I mean.
2) The fact that you think of yourself as "totally hot," makes you totally ugly. There is beauty in humility.
3) If I'm nice to you, it's because I feel like you're a cool guy, not because I want to get in your pants. My goal isn't always sex. Sometimes I like to make friends. But because of your paranoia, I don't want to be friends with you any more.
4) I can find you attractive and still not want to do anything sexual with you. I find women attractive and still have no desire to go to bed with them. I like beautiful things, I can't help it. So get over yourself.
5) Sometimes, when I'm really really really REALLY REALLY drunk, I may make advances. Don't take this personally. When I'm that drunk, I'd make advances at a good tree. You're not special and I won't remember in the morning. Just politely remove me from your lap and tell me to go to bed. I'd do the same thing to your girlfriend if she were making passes at me...just sayin.
6) Yes, I'm best friends with your girlfriend. Yes, I've seen her in her underwear (or less) and yes she tells me everything. Here telling me these things is no different than her telling her female best friend. If you're embarrassed about something, take it up with your girlfriend, not me. I didn't tie her down and force her to tell me.
6.a) Being jealous of me will not make your girlfriend love you more. In fact, it's probably a big turn off. It's best to just try to stay away from the situation and try to ignore it and any feelings it brings up.
6.b) If you haven't seen your girlfriend in her undies and I have and you're jealous, I want you to think back to that weekend y'all spent at the beach. Swimsuit is the same as a bra and panties. So you've seen just as much as I have.
7) Trust me, I'm handling AT MINIMUM 75% of her crazy. If I didn't exist, there's no way you'd still be with her. If anything, you should be taking notes.
8) Sometimes, I will want to do manly things (e.g. play baseball, watch football, drink beer) and if I invite you to do such things with me, it's your duty as a decent human being to not make fun of me while we are doing so and to pretend that this is completely normal and fun.
8.a) This is not a two-way street. If you ask me to go shopping with you, I will make fun of your lack of fashion sense and I will tell your girlfriend of all the crazy shit you tried to buy. However, I will help you and I will make you look at least 50% better.
I hope this has been helpful. If you found this helpful, please feel free to forward this post to any and all of your friends.
-K
Most people will say that it's ignorance. But I can't help but wonder if it's just arrogance mixed with insecurity. Guys that think they're god's gift to women probably think that they're god's gift to gay men as well. And for those that are insecure, they've probably got some sort of repressed feelings. Those I feel the most pity for. I know how hard it is to hide in the closet. And I know how scary it is to finally crack the door and take a step out.
But to those that think that because they're hot, any and all gay guys want them...let me shed some light:
1) You're not my type. The fact that you like pussy automatically makes you "not my type." I like guys that like guys. Not guys that like girls. Liking guys that like girls doesn't make good business sense...if you know what I mean.
2) The fact that you think of yourself as "totally hot," makes you totally ugly. There is beauty in humility.
3) If I'm nice to you, it's because I feel like you're a cool guy, not because I want to get in your pants. My goal isn't always sex. Sometimes I like to make friends. But because of your paranoia, I don't want to be friends with you any more.
4) I can find you attractive and still not want to do anything sexual with you. I find women attractive and still have no desire to go to bed with them. I like beautiful things, I can't help it. So get over yourself.
5) Sometimes, when I'm really really really REALLY REALLY drunk, I may make advances. Don't take this personally. When I'm that drunk, I'd make advances at a good tree. You're not special and I won't remember in the morning. Just politely remove me from your lap and tell me to go to bed. I'd do the same thing to your girlfriend if she were making passes at me...just sayin.
6) Yes, I'm best friends with your girlfriend. Yes, I've seen her in her underwear (or less) and yes she tells me everything. Here telling me these things is no different than her telling her female best friend. If you're embarrassed about something, take it up with your girlfriend, not me. I didn't tie her down and force her to tell me.
6.a) Being jealous of me will not make your girlfriend love you more. In fact, it's probably a big turn off. It's best to just try to stay away from the situation and try to ignore it and any feelings it brings up.
6.b) If you haven't seen your girlfriend in her undies and I have and you're jealous, I want you to think back to that weekend y'all spent at the beach. Swimsuit is the same as a bra and panties. So you've seen just as much as I have.
7) Trust me, I'm handling AT MINIMUM 75% of her crazy. If I didn't exist, there's no way you'd still be with her. If anything, you should be taking notes.
8) Sometimes, I will want to do manly things (e.g. play baseball, watch football, drink beer) and if I invite you to do such things with me, it's your duty as a decent human being to not make fun of me while we are doing so and to pretend that this is completely normal and fun.
8.a) This is not a two-way street. If you ask me to go shopping with you, I will make fun of your lack of fashion sense and I will tell your girlfriend of all the crazy shit you tried to buy. However, I will help you and I will make you look at least 50% better.
I hope this has been helpful. If you found this helpful, please feel free to forward this post to any and all of your friends.
-K
November 8, 2010
The gym
Ironically, of all the places in the world to spend my time, the last place I want to go is the gym. It's not that I'm lazy, I'm really not. But working out puts me in a bad mood. Always. Every time. Without fail.
It took me many a work out to decide what it was that put me in a bad mood every time I worked out. And eventually I figured it out: I think too much. Like when I do most mindless activities, and yes working out is mindless because of it's repetition, I tend to let my mind wander and think through things. Usually, this is a delightful break from ignoring my problems to deal with them later. But when I'm working out, I tend to think about all of the problems in my life: work, my lack of a boyfriend, my choice to leave school, a fight I had with my best friend, etc. And nearly every time, I never come up with a solution. So I complete my workout, without figuring out any solutions only to dwell on my problems for hours later.
So, instead of feeling rejuvenated and all of the pleasant endorphins that I'm supposed to feel, I am sweaty and frustrated, a combination no one wants.
I've tried numerous things to try and change my mindset while working out. I listen to upbeat, peppy, motivating music. I try smiling throughout my workout. I even tried attacking the entire situation with a positive attitude.
But without fail, my mind wanders to the problems of my life and puts me in the worst mood possible. I simply cannot explain it. Soon, I'll try completing the Couch to 5K workout regime. I'll try to employ all of my tricks and tomfoolery to keep myself in a good mood. And I'm hoping that doing this won't make me hate my favorite music. So here's to not hating something that everyone loves doing.
-K
It took me many a work out to decide what it was that put me in a bad mood every time I worked out. And eventually I figured it out: I think too much. Like when I do most mindless activities, and yes working out is mindless because of it's repetition, I tend to let my mind wander and think through things. Usually, this is a delightful break from ignoring my problems to deal with them later. But when I'm working out, I tend to think about all of the problems in my life: work, my lack of a boyfriend, my choice to leave school, a fight I had with my best friend, etc. And nearly every time, I never come up with a solution. So I complete my workout, without figuring out any solutions only to dwell on my problems for hours later.
So, instead of feeling rejuvenated and all of the pleasant endorphins that I'm supposed to feel, I am sweaty and frustrated, a combination no one wants.
I've tried numerous things to try and change my mindset while working out. I listen to upbeat, peppy, motivating music. I try smiling throughout my workout. I even tried attacking the entire situation with a positive attitude.
But without fail, my mind wanders to the problems of my life and puts me in the worst mood possible. I simply cannot explain it. Soon, I'll try completing the Couch to 5K workout regime. I'll try to employ all of my tricks and tomfoolery to keep myself in a good mood. And I'm hoping that doing this won't make me hate my favorite music. So here's to not hating something that everyone loves doing.
-K
November 4, 2010
Lexicon
So I've come to realize that I have procured a list of "code phrases" that I use when I don't really want to say. And here, I will reveal their true meanings. Since most of you don't know me in the real life (or IRL for you 733T speakers,) I find no harm in this.
If I say the word "fine" it really means "I don't want to talk about it....ever. So stop pushing it....now."
If I say the phrase "I'm over it" it really means "I'm not over it."
If I say the phrase "I have a headache" it really means "I'm pretty upset."
If I say the phrase "I'm tired" it really means "I'm mad at you."
If I say the phrase "I think I just want to stay home" it really means "I need to cry by myself."
If I say the phrase "I wanna feed the ducks" it really means "I wanna do something illegal."
If I say the phrase "Love you too!" (as opposed to "I love you too!") it really means "I like you only okay."
Sure, most of them are passive aggressive but I grew up Catholic and it's kind of bred into me. Most of the time I use these ploys in order to not only protect myself but to prevent others from really pressing me into talking about something that I really don't want to talk about. Sometimes, emotions just need to be slept on. And sometimes, I just need to get over myself.
A lot of the times, I feel the need to use these phrases because I feel all too aware of people's needs to be focused on, to have attention on them. And while I do like to have attention on me too, when it comes to true emotions, I tend to hide them and just go with the flow. I see myself forgiving quickly and repeating the phrase "I'll get over it eventually" or "it's really not a big deal." When in fact, it's probably just the opposite. I just feel like even when I do try to express how I REALLY feel with someone, they find a way to bring it back to them and how THEY feel. (Which I find kinda rude, just sayin.)
And I also have a hard time believing people when they say "I know how that feels." Because honestly? When I tell you "The reason I'm so pissed right now is because he kept calling me a faggot." and you say, "I know. I get that." Do you?! Do you really "get" how that feels? How second-citizen that makes me feel? Do you understand how that word cuts down into me like nothing ever before or since? Because I don't think that you, a heterosexual person, living in REPUBLICAN TEXAS, gets how that feels.
I often feel alone in my emotions. Like no one else could possibly understand how I feel exactly. They may come close, but not exactly. And so I created these phrases to protect myself from pressing questions and to protect others from me (as strangely as that sounds.) And there are actually a lot of other hidden, secret phrases that I use all too often but I feel that if I reveal all of my tricks, I'll no longer be a mystery to you people. And all of the magic will have escaped. So I'll leave you with just one more for you to figure out on your own...
I cheated.
-K
If I say the word "fine" it really means "I don't want to talk about it....ever. So stop pushing it....now."
If I say the phrase "I'm over it" it really means "I'm not over it."
If I say the phrase "I have a headache" it really means "I'm pretty upset."
If I say the phrase "I'm tired" it really means "I'm mad at you."
If I say the phrase "I think I just want to stay home" it really means "I need to cry by myself."
If I say the phrase "I wanna feed the ducks" it really means "I wanna do something illegal."
If I say the phrase "Love you too!" (as opposed to "I love you too!") it really means "I like you only okay."
Sure, most of them are passive aggressive but I grew up Catholic and it's kind of bred into me. Most of the time I use these ploys in order to not only protect myself but to prevent others from really pressing me into talking about something that I really don't want to talk about. Sometimes, emotions just need to be slept on. And sometimes, I just need to get over myself.
A lot of the times, I feel the need to use these phrases because I feel all too aware of people's needs to be focused on, to have attention on them. And while I do like to have attention on me too, when it comes to true emotions, I tend to hide them and just go with the flow. I see myself forgiving quickly and repeating the phrase "I'll get over it eventually" or "it's really not a big deal." When in fact, it's probably just the opposite. I just feel like even when I do try to express how I REALLY feel with someone, they find a way to bring it back to them and how THEY feel. (Which I find kinda rude, just sayin.)
And I also have a hard time believing people when they say "I know how that feels." Because honestly? When I tell you "The reason I'm so pissed right now is because he kept calling me a faggot." and you say, "I know. I get that." Do you?! Do you really "get" how that feels? How second-citizen that makes me feel? Do you understand how that word cuts down into me like nothing ever before or since? Because I don't think that you, a heterosexual person, living in REPUBLICAN TEXAS, gets how that feels.
I often feel alone in my emotions. Like no one else could possibly understand how I feel exactly. They may come close, but not exactly. And so I created these phrases to protect myself from pressing questions and to protect others from me (as strangely as that sounds.) And there are actually a lot of other hidden, secret phrases that I use all too often but I feel that if I reveal all of my tricks, I'll no longer be a mystery to you people. And all of the magic will have escaped. So I'll leave you with just one more for you to figure out on your own...
I cheated.
-K
November 3, 2010
Wednesdays
So Wednesday has got to be the absolutely worst day of the week.
No one EVER likes Wednesday. Never will you hear "OH MAN! IT'S WEDNESDAY?! THANK GOD!" It's more like to happen like this:
Me: "What day is it?"
You: "Wednesday."
Me: "FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU
UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU
UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU
UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU..."
Nothing is good about Wednesdays. Nothing good comes on television, it's ONLY the middle of the week (which means you still have two more days to suffer through before the weekend,) It feels like the longest day because you're tired from Monday and Tuesday and you still have the work from Thursday and Friday to look forward to. And let's be serious, who really looks forward to work? Not anybody, ever. And if you tell me that you look forward to work because you love your job, get ready because I'm gonna punch you in the kidney. I have a hard time believing that someone would rather work than sit around and not have any obligations, no matter how much you love your job.
The best thing we can do about Wednesdays (except abolishing them worldwide) is hunker-down, do whatever it is we have to do, and pray for Thursday to be in a hurry.
Fuck you, Wednesay, fuck you.
-K
No one EVER likes Wednesday. Never will you hear "OH MAN! IT'S WEDNESDAY?! THANK GOD!" It's more like to happen like this:
Me: "What day is it?"
You: "Wednesday."
Me: "FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU
UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU
UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU
UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU..."
Nothing is good about Wednesdays. Nothing good comes on television, it's ONLY the middle of the week (which means you still have two more days to suffer through before the weekend,) It feels like the longest day because you're tired from Monday and Tuesday and you still have the work from Thursday and Friday to look forward to. And let's be serious, who really looks forward to work? Not anybody, ever. And if you tell me that you look forward to work because you love your job, get ready because I'm gonna punch you in the kidney. I have a hard time believing that someone would rather work than sit around and not have any obligations, no matter how much you love your job.
The best thing we can do about Wednesdays (except abolishing them worldwide) is hunker-down, do whatever it is we have to do, and pray for Thursday to be in a hurry.
Fuck you, Wednesay, fuck you.
-K
November 2, 2010
Guns, knives and ropes
So even though I try to lead people to believe that I'm ahead of the times when it comes to pop culture, I'm actually not. I'm very behind. I'm just ahead of the mainstream. I usually get interested in things about 6 months before it really becomes mainstream. Sometimes, it makes me feel like a trendsetter but most times it just makes me feel lucky. haha
Anyway, this has a point, I swear and I'm coming to it fast...I've only just started watching Showtime's Dexter. It's a show about a serial killer who works for the Miami PD as a Blood Spatter Analyst. From what I can tell, he only kills people that "absolutely deserve it." E.g, a man who just got off scott-free for drinking, driving, and killing a young man. He sees his killings as justified while fulfilling his need and desire to kill.
It's quite an interesting show but there's just one thing that I just don't understand, that I've never understood: how can someone decide who deserves to die?
Killing someone or something else has never made sense to me. I've never wanted to shoot a gun, stab a hunk of flesh or even boil a lobster. Holding guns make me nervous and when I hold large knives, I feel queasy. It just doesn't seem right to me. Something inside me holds me back and causes me to shake all over. I sincerely believe that if I were to sit on a jury, I'd have the most difficult time condemning someone to die by lethal injection no matter what crime they committed. I just can't consciously kill something. I can't decide who deserves to die and who deserves to live.
But what does that mean? Does it mean I have a soul? Or just a conscience? Does that mean that the hundreds upon hundreds of people that have sat on a Texas jury and condemned men and women to death don't?
The irony of it all? I have no problem being pro-choice (which some see as murder) and I have no problem at all killing bugs or insects... I guess if I can't see the emotional turmoil I'm putting the living thing in, I don't care if it lives or dies.
-K
Anyway, this has a point, I swear and I'm coming to it fast...I've only just started watching Showtime's Dexter. It's a show about a serial killer who works for the Miami PD as a Blood Spatter Analyst. From what I can tell, he only kills people that "absolutely deserve it." E.g, a man who just got off scott-free for drinking, driving, and killing a young man. He sees his killings as justified while fulfilling his need and desire to kill.
It's quite an interesting show but there's just one thing that I just don't understand, that I've never understood: how can someone decide who deserves to die?
Killing someone or something else has never made sense to me. I've never wanted to shoot a gun, stab a hunk of flesh or even boil a lobster. Holding guns make me nervous and when I hold large knives, I feel queasy. It just doesn't seem right to me. Something inside me holds me back and causes me to shake all over. I sincerely believe that if I were to sit on a jury, I'd have the most difficult time condemning someone to die by lethal injection no matter what crime they committed. I just can't consciously kill something. I can't decide who deserves to die and who deserves to live.
But what does that mean? Does it mean I have a soul? Or just a conscience? Does that mean that the hundreds upon hundreds of people that have sat on a Texas jury and condemned men and women to death don't?
The irony of it all? I have no problem being pro-choice (which some see as murder) and I have no problem at all killing bugs or insects... I guess if I can't see the emotional turmoil I'm putting the living thing in, I don't care if it lives or dies.
-K
October 31, 2010
This space and silver linings
In general, I try not to miss things. I try not to miss people when I'm away from them for a long time. I try not to miss towns I haven't been to in a while. I try not to miss doing things I used to do on a daily basis...
But sometimes I just can't help it.
This past weekend, I got to visit a lot of friends that I went to university with and being here has brought back a lot of really great memories and it makes me miss the town that we lived in a lot. I loved living in that small college town. I was never bored, rarely lonely. I was surrounded by people that thought and acted like me. How could you not miss that?
And when I'm back at home, away from all of the people that I love, I try not to miss being there. It's just too painful. It's too hard to miss that place and those people. I'm 100% a "glass half-full" kind of guy and so I really do try to see the great things about the city that I do live in. My best friend is there; my nephew is there; my job is there; I live for free there; my parents are there.
But sometimes, when it's really late at night and I'm sifting through the news feed on my facebook, and I see all the fun that my university friends are having without me, I can't help but wish that I was there too.
And moving back to my city was completely my own choice and my own fault and I don't regret it at all. Well, let me clarify that I don't regret the choice but there are certain consequences about that choice that I do regret. I regret giving up seeing some of my favorite people in the whole world everyday. I regret being in a town where I'm the normal one instead of a sort of social freakshow. I regret giving up school....which I should have just toughed it out and finished.
But these are my choices. And while I miss that town, especially those people, I have made these choices and I will focus on my silver lining: my best friend (which I sobbed over because I missed her so much when she was abroad in Spain for a year) lives in my city. My nephew (who is growing up faster than I can imagine) lives in my city. My family, my job, my childhood, it's all in that city. I live a great life there and I am grateful.
-K
But sometimes I just can't help it.
This past weekend, I got to visit a lot of friends that I went to university with and being here has brought back a lot of really great memories and it makes me miss the town that we lived in a lot. I loved living in that small college town. I was never bored, rarely lonely. I was surrounded by people that thought and acted like me. How could you not miss that?
And when I'm back at home, away from all of the people that I love, I try not to miss being there. It's just too painful. It's too hard to miss that place and those people. I'm 100% a "glass half-full" kind of guy and so I really do try to see the great things about the city that I do live in. My best friend is there; my nephew is there; my job is there; I live for free there; my parents are there.
But sometimes, when it's really late at night and I'm sifting through the news feed on my facebook, and I see all the fun that my university friends are having without me, I can't help but wish that I was there too.
And moving back to my city was completely my own choice and my own fault and I don't regret it at all. Well, let me clarify that I don't regret the choice but there are certain consequences about that choice that I do regret. I regret giving up seeing some of my favorite people in the whole world everyday. I regret being in a town where I'm the normal one instead of a sort of social freakshow. I regret giving up school....which I should have just toughed it out and finished.
But these are my choices. And while I miss that town, especially those people, I have made these choices and I will focus on my silver lining: my best friend (which I sobbed over because I missed her so much when she was abroad in Spain for a year) lives in my city. My nephew (who is growing up faster than I can imagine) lives in my city. My family, my job, my childhood, it's all in that city. I live a great life there and I am grateful.
-K
October 27, 2010
Like it's my job
So for the past few months....well, that's not entirely accurate. I guess it's more accurate to say that my life has ALWAYS revolved around the internet. It's largely due to the fact that I am a part of Generation Y, Echo Boomers or Millenniums (whatever you want to call us, they're all accurate.) And the internet was something that was just starting to enter homes just as I was old enough to really understand what it was. In fact, I can clearly remember the first time I ever used the internet: to look up Princess Diana's death in 1997 (I was 10.)
And I remember ever since that day, the internet has been a big part of my life. It wasn't long after that when I discovered this nifty little community called LiveJournal. Now, I must remind you that this was back in the day when you had to get a code from someone who already had a LiveJournal to start your own. I received my code from the first person I ever told I was gay: my then best friend N. (But that's besides the point.)
Anyway, so I started to write in my LiveJournal as if that's what it actually was: a journal. This was also when I got my first realization that anything that's written on the internet is written in ink, not pencil. It doesn't just go away and can get you in loads of trouble. (See also: a few of my friends reading what I wrote about them and then never talking to me again.) Life on LiveJournal was short lived. Popularity quickly swung to a similar site called Xanga and then came the age of MySpace. And I'll admit, I had all of these sites but my MySpace was one of a very short life. I think I had it for a few weeks until I went to college, got my ".edu" e-mail address and was finally allowed onto Facebook.
Now, Facebook, like most people, has become a regularly visited site (in fact, it's one of my home pages.) And it's an integral part in connecting with people on a regular basis. But with the birth of Facebook, came the explosion of social networking. Suddenly, people could keep track of other people's every day lives. Some, many actually, have made careers out of this. And I think it was about two years ago that I dipped my big toe into the giant pool that is Social Networking.
I started making YouTube videos, posting about once a week. And then I started a Twitter account about 6 months after that. And about a year ago I began my dailybooth account and now I have not only this blog but also a venue where I sell t-shirts based on my YouTube account and a FourSquare account. I now tell people that I social network like it's my job and that I have a hard time unplugging. Because it's true!
While I might not hyperventilate because there's no wi-fi somewhere, I do feel a slight, but distinct, sense of panic when I realize that for whatever reason, I can't access the internet? It sounds like an addiction, but I promise you, it's not. It's more like taking a vacation at a higher climate: difficult at first, noticeable, and you know you'll get used to it but in the back of your mind, you really can't wait to get back to a normal altitude.
It's funny, with all of my social networking accounts and various ways to connect to absolute strangers all over the globe, I am still on the hunt for new and fun ways to make more connections to more people that I don't know. I can't explain it really......I'll just say that I'm comfortable at this climate and have no plans on taking a trip to the mountains.
-K
P.S. If you'd like some links to my social networking sites, start searching. I promised myself that this blog would remain anonymous and I plan to keep that promise. Kudos to you if you find me. You're probably a social networking freakshow like myself.
And I remember ever since that day, the internet has been a big part of my life. It wasn't long after that when I discovered this nifty little community called LiveJournal. Now, I must remind you that this was back in the day when you had to get a code from someone who already had a LiveJournal to start your own. I received my code from the first person I ever told I was gay: my then best friend N. (But that's besides the point.)
Anyway, so I started to write in my LiveJournal as if that's what it actually was: a journal. This was also when I got my first realization that anything that's written on the internet is written in ink, not pencil. It doesn't just go away and can get you in loads of trouble. (See also: a few of my friends reading what I wrote about them and then never talking to me again.) Life on LiveJournal was short lived. Popularity quickly swung to a similar site called Xanga and then came the age of MySpace. And I'll admit, I had all of these sites but my MySpace was one of a very short life. I think I had it for a few weeks until I went to college, got my ".edu" e-mail address and was finally allowed onto Facebook.
Now, Facebook, like most people, has become a regularly visited site (in fact, it's one of my home pages.) And it's an integral part in connecting with people on a regular basis. But with the birth of Facebook, came the explosion of social networking. Suddenly, people could keep track of other people's every day lives. Some, many actually, have made careers out of this. And I think it was about two years ago that I dipped my big toe into the giant pool that is Social Networking.
I started making YouTube videos, posting about once a week. And then I started a Twitter account about 6 months after that. And about a year ago I began my dailybooth account and now I have not only this blog but also a venue where I sell t-shirts based on my YouTube account and a FourSquare account. I now tell people that I social network like it's my job and that I have a hard time unplugging. Because it's true!
While I might not hyperventilate because there's no wi-fi somewhere, I do feel a slight, but distinct, sense of panic when I realize that for whatever reason, I can't access the internet? It sounds like an addiction, but I promise you, it's not. It's more like taking a vacation at a higher climate: difficult at first, noticeable, and you know you'll get used to it but in the back of your mind, you really can't wait to get back to a normal altitude.
It's funny, with all of my social networking accounts and various ways to connect to absolute strangers all over the globe, I am still on the hunt for new and fun ways to make more connections to more people that I don't know. I can't explain it really......I'll just say that I'm comfortable at this climate and have no plans on taking a trip to the mountains.
-K
P.S. If you'd like some links to my social networking sites, start searching. I promised myself that this blog would remain anonymous and I plan to keep that promise. Kudos to you if you find me. You're probably a social networking freakshow like myself.
October 26, 2010
I'm better at this than you
So I was thinking about Halloween and Halloween costumes and things and it got me thinking....
I'm a lot better at coming up with awesome Halloween costumes than you.
Well, actually, I don't know if I'm THAT good (no, I totally am.) And I say that because most of my costume ideas have something to do with sex or being sexy. For instance, R was talking about how he needed a costume idea for a party he was going to. He said that he wanted something clever. But then we got off on this tangent about this pair of jeans that makes his ass look really good and he says, "The only thing is that it's supposed to be 'destroyed' so it's got some paint splatter on it." and that gave me a genius idea!
"Why don't you go as a painter for Halloween? You could splatter some paint on an old shirt and rub some on your face and wear those jeans and carry around some brushes! Omg! Totes perf!" Then he said that he wanted it to be clever so I suggested a penis painter. Like....a painter that could only paint penises....
Alright maybe I'm pretty terrible at coming up with good Halloween costumes but you know what? I have a blog and you don't so I'm better.
-K
I'm a lot better at coming up with awesome Halloween costumes than you.
Well, actually, I don't know if I'm THAT good (no, I totally am.) And I say that because most of my costume ideas have something to do with sex or being sexy. For instance, R was talking about how he needed a costume idea for a party he was going to. He said that he wanted something clever. But then we got off on this tangent about this pair of jeans that makes his ass look really good and he says, "The only thing is that it's supposed to be 'destroyed' so it's got some paint splatter on it." and that gave me a genius idea!
"Why don't you go as a painter for Halloween? You could splatter some paint on an old shirt and rub some on your face and wear those jeans and carry around some brushes! Omg! Totes perf!" Then he said that he wanted it to be clever so I suggested a penis painter. Like....a painter that could only paint penises....
Alright maybe I'm pretty terrible at coming up with good Halloween costumes but you know what? I have a blog and you don't so I'm better.
-K
October 24, 2010
So close
It's hard for me to blog tonight...
Tonight I feel alone, used, unattractive (and sexy in a tragic way....if that makes sense.) I feel let down, rejected, disappointed and not unlike a whore.
There's this boy, let's call him R. And he lives what I would consider downtown. Which is a trek from me but not terrible (maybe half an hour) and I've been talking to him for a few days. At first it was mostly about sex. We knew right away that there was a physical attraction. And then I got to thinking that maybe this is a person that I should give a shot at a relationship with. So I tried to start conversations about other things: his interests, my interests, various things about ourselves to try to get to know him. And he seemed receptive to a point, but the conversation almost always came back to sex. And while I know that I went about this all wrong and should have put off the sex subject until I got to know this guy, I still can't help but feel a little used when I suddenly get the feeling that all he ever wanted out of me was sex.
I wish I could start over and get to know this guy before we talked about sex and let this develop normally. And now that I type that out, I can't help but thing "What is normal anyway? Has anything about me ever been normal? No. I've always done things differently and have always felt 100% different from everyone else my entire life so why should I start now?"
In any case, I have a "date" with this guy tomorrow and I'm certain we'll make awkward small talk until we have sex and I'm certain that after that, I'll slowly phase him out and just stop responding to his texts and phone calls like I do every other man that comes into my life because I am a whore. I meet someone, have sex with them in the first 24 hours of meeting them and then feel used when they don't want a relationship.
Let the vicious unhealthy cycle begin.
-K
Tonight I feel alone, used, unattractive (and sexy in a tragic way....if that makes sense.) I feel let down, rejected, disappointed and not unlike a whore.
There's this boy, let's call him R. And he lives what I would consider downtown. Which is a trek from me but not terrible (maybe half an hour) and I've been talking to him for a few days. At first it was mostly about sex. We knew right away that there was a physical attraction. And then I got to thinking that maybe this is a person that I should give a shot at a relationship with. So I tried to start conversations about other things: his interests, my interests, various things about ourselves to try to get to know him. And he seemed receptive to a point, but the conversation almost always came back to sex. And while I know that I went about this all wrong and should have put off the sex subject until I got to know this guy, I still can't help but feel a little used when I suddenly get the feeling that all he ever wanted out of me was sex.
I wish I could start over and get to know this guy before we talked about sex and let this develop normally. And now that I type that out, I can't help but thing "What is normal anyway? Has anything about me ever been normal? No. I've always done things differently and have always felt 100% different from everyone else my entire life so why should I start now?"
In any case, I have a "date" with this guy tomorrow and I'm certain we'll make awkward small talk until we have sex and I'm certain that after that, I'll slowly phase him out and just stop responding to his texts and phone calls like I do every other man that comes into my life because I am a whore. I meet someone, have sex with them in the first 24 hours of meeting them and then feel used when they don't want a relationship.
Let the vicious unhealthy cycle begin.
-K
October 23, 2010
Hair
For a long time now, I've taken risks with my hair. Changed it frequently, crazy colors, weird cuts. Some of them worked out and some of them were just ugly. But now that I'm 22 and looking for a real job (aka one that pays a salary and not just an hourly wage) I find myself stuck with what I like to call "boring hair."
And to be honest, it's not boring. It's actually pretty cute. But there's no fun color, nothing interesting about the cut. It's just kind of generic.
So I guess my question is: how do I still maintain my individuality with my hair but still look professional? Should I stick to natural tones but extremes of them (e.g. fire engine red and bleach blonde highlights?) Or should I play with the cut and shave something unique into my hair?
Or should I just accept defeat and stick with normal, professional hair?
Back in the day, I had long, beautiful hair. And it really was beautiful. I loved having long hair. It really did make me feel pretty. But eventually I grew tired of the maintenance and product and all of that and cut it all off. And after seeing old pictures of my hair, I'm really regretting cutting it...
Ah, well, as I always say: hair grows back. I'm not going to worry about how my hair is cut or anything like that. It'll grow out, it'll change color. It's just what my hair does. But the question is: where will it go next?
-K
October 21, 2010
Troglodytic
My city is for the lonely. I have yet to meet a person here that isn't looking for someone: a lover, a friend, an estranged family. Everyone here is searching. And I find myself also searching.
But with all of this searching, none of us seem to find contentment in each other. No one here seems to fit each other right. Like we're all the missing puzzle pieces.
I go through bouts of feeling lonely. The evening is the worst.
It's almost as if the city is an illusion and each of us are trapped in a world where everyone else seems to have found what they're looking for but we are doomed, trapped on our constant hunt for our heart's contentment.
I am lonely among a sea of lonely people. I don't mean to say that I am alone. I'm not. I have a best friend that lives here, another friend that doesn't live too far from me. And another friend of mine that I used to see often as well. But I only get to see my best friend for a maximum of 10 hours a week. (It sounds like a lot but sit down and calculate how many hours you spend with your significant other or your best friend and then compare.) My other friend lives downtown...and I don't have a car. And the friend that I used to see often, moved out of the country and 8 timezones away. My parents are asleep by the time I get home from work and they're at work by the time I wake up in the morning.
Sometimes the loneliness overwhelms me. I'm reminded of a similar time in my life, my freshman year of college. There had been a fight between my friends and I and the group estranged itself from me. I moved dorms and was forced to start all over. It was like changing schools. And it didn't help that when I moved dorms, I was moved into a double room, by myself. A blessing to most, but to someone who CRAVES human interaction, that room was a prison.
Then, I forced myself to find new friends and get out of my room to explore and grow. Here, there it's not so easy. This "dorm" is far too expansive for me to try to explore without a car (something I can't afford right now.) And so here I sit, alone in my room, alone in my bed, alone on the internet.
My city is for the lonely.
-K
But with all of this searching, none of us seem to find contentment in each other. No one here seems to fit each other right. Like we're all the missing puzzle pieces.
I go through bouts of feeling lonely. The evening is the worst.
It's almost as if the city is an illusion and each of us are trapped in a world where everyone else seems to have found what they're looking for but we are doomed, trapped on our constant hunt for our heart's contentment.
I am lonely among a sea of lonely people. I don't mean to say that I am alone. I'm not. I have a best friend that lives here, another friend that doesn't live too far from me. And another friend of mine that I used to see often as well. But I only get to see my best friend for a maximum of 10 hours a week. (It sounds like a lot but sit down and calculate how many hours you spend with your significant other or your best friend and then compare.) My other friend lives downtown...and I don't have a car. And the friend that I used to see often, moved out of the country and 8 timezones away. My parents are asleep by the time I get home from work and they're at work by the time I wake up in the morning.
Sometimes the loneliness overwhelms me. I'm reminded of a similar time in my life, my freshman year of college. There had been a fight between my friends and I and the group estranged itself from me. I moved dorms and was forced to start all over. It was like changing schools. And it didn't help that when I moved dorms, I was moved into a double room, by myself. A blessing to most, but to someone who CRAVES human interaction, that room was a prison.
Then, I forced myself to find new friends and get out of my room to explore and grow. Here, there it's not so easy. This "dorm" is far too expansive for me to try to explore without a car (something I can't afford right now.) And so here I sit, alone in my room, alone in my bed, alone on the internet.
My city is for the lonely.
-K
October 20, 2010
The games we play
One thing I'll never understand is the human compulsion to play mind games with the people that we're attracted to.
Currently, I am watching a group of people, two girls, two boys. One boy has said something offensive to one of the girls and now she has stood and threatened to walk home. (Apparently, she's very far from home.) But does she storm off in a huff? No, she meanders across the parking lot and then dances along the speedbumps, taking her sweet time to find her way home. Finally, the other girl says to the offensive boy "She wants you to go after her." So he stands and jogs over to her. And what do they do? They immediately start kissing. What was the point of that?! Why didn't the girl just admit that that the teasing she received from the boy was attractive and just kiss him? Why did the boy feel the need to tease her in the first place? Why didn't he just lean in and kiss her anyway? So childish. This isn't the playground. People's emotions aren't to be toyed with.
Who invented "playing hard to get" anyway and why? What purpose does it serve? Is the chase really worth it? Or are you so conceited to think that someone has to work for your love?
I don't understand why you should want someone to have to work for your heart. In my opinion, if you love someone, you should be only more than happy to relinquish your everything. If you love them, shouldn't you want to trust them with one of the most fragile things of the human psyche?
And I'll admit, I play games too. I'm coy and pseudo-shy. I make my men push and push to try to get to my real emotions. And why? I need to know they care. But the fucked up thing is that they're showing me that they care, just not in the way that I want them to. So I hide and I run and I play these games until I get what I want. Does anyone else see how childish that is?
And yet for many, it's an impulse. A vicious cycle that I am certain to be trapped in.
-K
Currently, I am watching a group of people, two girls, two boys. One boy has said something offensive to one of the girls and now she has stood and threatened to walk home. (Apparently, she's very far from home.) But does she storm off in a huff? No, she meanders across the parking lot and then dances along the speedbumps, taking her sweet time to find her way home. Finally, the other girl says to the offensive boy "She wants you to go after her." So he stands and jogs over to her. And what do they do? They immediately start kissing. What was the point of that?! Why didn't the girl just admit that that the teasing she received from the boy was attractive and just kiss him? Why did the boy feel the need to tease her in the first place? Why didn't he just lean in and kiss her anyway? So childish. This isn't the playground. People's emotions aren't to be toyed with.
Who invented "playing hard to get" anyway and why? What purpose does it serve? Is the chase really worth it? Or are you so conceited to think that someone has to work for your love?
I don't understand why you should want someone to have to work for your heart. In my opinion, if you love someone, you should be only more than happy to relinquish your everything. If you love them, shouldn't you want to trust them with one of the most fragile things of the human psyche?
And I'll admit, I play games too. I'm coy and pseudo-shy. I make my men push and push to try to get to my real emotions. And why? I need to know they care. But the fucked up thing is that they're showing me that they care, just not in the way that I want them to. So I hide and I run and I play these games until I get what I want. Does anyone else see how childish that is?
And yet for many, it's an impulse. A vicious cycle that I am certain to be trapped in.
-K
The Right Decision
Yesterday, I had a moment. (Okay, I have a lot of moments everyday but this one was notable.) But before I get to my moment, you'll need some back-story so put on your reading glasses and get comfortable.
I have this best friend, let's call her S, that I've known for a little over 5 years. Now, you should know that S is probably the most intelligent and grounded person I know. She has two degrees and makes a point to get her news from BBC; two things that greatly impress me considering I have half a degree and get my news from PerezHilton.com. So I go to her often for advice on how to sanely react to various things that occur in my life.
I even went to her with the idea to start this blog because she's been a blogger for a while and she blogged when she studied abroad and she's been talking about starting a new blog up (which is actually up and running now. no you will not get a link. Find it on your own.) But that's neither here nor there.The point of all this information is leading up to the following events...
We were making cherry cheesecakes (which turned out only okay) and S decided to start setting up her blog. I advertised the link to my blog on facebook and got a comment from another friend of mine, J. I met J when we were in college and we discovered that we were both studying to become high school English teachers. J, being a recent graduate, had just started a blog as well about being a new teacher. (Again, you're not getting the link. Find it on your own.) I was reading along all about her adventures and how much fun she's been having. And it got me thinking....did I make the right decision?
Was leaving college to focus on my writing a good life choice? Was it smart? Everyone I know is graduating with degrees while I'm stuck being a host for $9/hr at a restaurant, my writing going no where and I'm living with my parents. So I did what I always did, I went to S.
I asked her if I had made a good decision and she assured me that it was the right one because I wasn't happy when I was in school, in fact, I was miserable. But it appeared to be too late. I started to cry. I couldn't help it. I was freaking out. I felt so left behind, so stupid, so incompetent. What else could I do but cry?
S made me feel better by cracking some jokes. I laughed, but in truth, I was sobbing on the inside...
I spent the night at her house that night because it "just didn't make good business sense" (that's one of her adult-job phrases) to take me home that late when she had to drive by my house anyway to get to work the next day. But I didn't really sleep well. I kept waking up thinking about my decision to leave school. More than once, I left the bed completely to go stand in the living room and pace nervously. I'd have gone outside but the alarm was set and I didn't know how to turn it off. And even more frequently, I just sat on the edge of the bed and cried some more over my situation.
But after I finally drifted off to sleep and I woke up the next morning, I began a new day. I did my best to leave my worries in the day before and tried not to stress out about them. Stressing out about things like that never helped anything. All I can do is move forward. I've been applying for better jobs. I've been writing whenever I can.
I've made my decisions and now I must live with them. There are good things to come...they have to.
-K
I have this best friend, let's call her S, that I've known for a little over 5 years. Now, you should know that S is probably the most intelligent and grounded person I know. She has two degrees and makes a point to get her news from BBC; two things that greatly impress me considering I have half a degree and get my news from PerezHilton.com. So I go to her often for advice on how to sanely react to various things that occur in my life.
I even went to her with the idea to start this blog because she's been a blogger for a while and she blogged when she studied abroad and she's been talking about starting a new blog up (which is actually up and running now. no you will not get a link. Find it on your own.) But that's neither here nor there.The point of all this information is leading up to the following events...
We were making cherry cheesecakes (which turned out only okay) and S decided to start setting up her blog. I advertised the link to my blog on facebook and got a comment from another friend of mine, J. I met J when we were in college and we discovered that we were both studying to become high school English teachers. J, being a recent graduate, had just started a blog as well about being a new teacher. (Again, you're not getting the link. Find it on your own.) I was reading along all about her adventures and how much fun she's been having. And it got me thinking....did I make the right decision?
Was leaving college to focus on my writing a good life choice? Was it smart? Everyone I know is graduating with degrees while I'm stuck being a host for $9/hr at a restaurant, my writing going no where and I'm living with my parents. So I did what I always did, I went to S.
I asked her if I had made a good decision and she assured me that it was the right one because I wasn't happy when I was in school, in fact, I was miserable. But it appeared to be too late. I started to cry. I couldn't help it. I was freaking out. I felt so left behind, so stupid, so incompetent. What else could I do but cry?
S made me feel better by cracking some jokes. I laughed, but in truth, I was sobbing on the inside...
I spent the night at her house that night because it "just didn't make good business sense" (that's one of her adult-job phrases) to take me home that late when she had to drive by my house anyway to get to work the next day. But I didn't really sleep well. I kept waking up thinking about my decision to leave school. More than once, I left the bed completely to go stand in the living room and pace nervously. I'd have gone outside but the alarm was set and I didn't know how to turn it off. And even more frequently, I just sat on the edge of the bed and cried some more over my situation.
But after I finally drifted off to sleep and I woke up the next morning, I began a new day. I did my best to leave my worries in the day before and tried not to stress out about them. Stressing out about things like that never helped anything. All I can do is move forward. I've been applying for better jobs. I've been writing whenever I can.
I've made my decisions and now I must live with them. There are good things to come...they have to.
-K
October 18, 2010
Your non-pants make me vomit
I don't know how often I can say this...
LEGGINGS ARE NOT PANTS!!
They never were pants. They never will be pants. Leggings are NOT pants.
Now, I understand, from a style point of view, how leggings can be cute when worn under a skirt, or perhaps some shorts. But if you're just wearing a t-shirt and leggings, you should know that you're making me want to vomit all over you. And not just regular vomit; projectile, yellow and green with a little bit of blood mixed in kind of vomit.
I mean look...
Look how fat her thighs look. WHO WANTS THAT? No one. It looks like she's trying to smuggle out two Christmas hams from CostCo. Problem.
My rule with an outfit with leggings is this: if you can wear the outfit out in public WITHOUT leggings, then it's fine to wear the leggings. But dear readers, let's be quite honest with ourselves. It's time for a reality check...
This is what you think you look like in your leggings (or worse, jeggings...*vomits*)
LEGGINGS ARE NOT PANTS!!
They never were pants. They never will be pants. Leggings are NOT pants.
Now, I understand, from a style point of view, how leggings can be cute when worn under a skirt, or perhaps some shorts. But if you're just wearing a t-shirt and leggings, you should know that you're making me want to vomit all over you. And not just regular vomit; projectile, yellow and green with a little bit of blood mixed in kind of vomit.
I mean look...
Look how fat her thighs look. WHO WANTS THAT? No one. It looks like she's trying to smuggle out two Christmas hams from CostCo. Problem.
My rule with an outfit with leggings is this: if you can wear the outfit out in public WITHOUT leggings, then it's fine to wear the leggings. But dear readers, let's be quite honest with ourselves. It's time for a reality check...
This is what you think you look like in your leggings (or worse, jeggings...*vomits*)
This is what you actually look like....
Yup. That's what you actually look like. I don't care if you're 90 lbs or 390 lbs, this is what your ass looks like in leggings. Do you see why you need to cover up parts of your body when you wear leggings? Yeah. Glad you see the light.
So before you reach for that new pair of...*holds back vomit* jeggings, make sure you're also reaching for an extra long shirt and a belt, or a skirt or something because we're all tired of seeing your fat ass packed into those things tighter than a bratwurst.
-K
October 17, 2010
Everyone's got a question
When I go out in the world, I'm told that there is no question about my sexuality. As much as I'd like to think that I'm not THAT flamboyant, apparently, the way that I dress, speak and carry myself just screams, "HOMOSEXUAL!"
I don't have a problem with this.
With that being said, you have to imagine the types of questions I get from people that feel they know me well enough to ask me about some of the darkest points in my life.
"When did you know you were gay?"
"How did your parents react?"
"Was it difficult?"
"Did all of your friends stop talking to you?"
"When did you have your first boyfriend?"
"Did y'all have sex?"
"Are you the pitcher or the catcher?"
"So....who's the woman in the relationship?"
"Since you're both dudes, do you just, like, do it ALL THE TIME?"
I get that it's rare for a Texan to meet a gay man. Especially in such a Republican area like the one that I live in. And I get that there are things that people are curious about. I mean, I'll admit, the first time I came across a lesbian, I had questions too. The first of them being "So....you, like.....LIKE pussy?"
But what I don't get is people that I have only known for mere days wanting to know what it was like to come out to my, very Republican, very Catholic, parents. That was a hard time for me! Harder than anything you've ever experienced. And to be quite honest, there are very few people I should feel comfortable divulging the events of that night with. But because of perfect strangers' constant questioning, I've learned to live my life as an open book. I've never turned down a question, never danced around an answer. I let people ask me whatever they want and I give them as graphic an answer as I can. Some get weirded out and try to stop me but I don't. If they're going to ask about my personal life, they're going to hear every detail no matter how uncomfortable it makes them.
"When did you know you were gay?" - age 4. I wore a blanket that my grandmother crocheted for me as a skirt. I learned how to walk better in heels than your girlfriend and realized my ass will always look twice as good in her jeans.
"How did your parents react?" - Fine. They were uncomfortable at first but we worked through it and now they are among my biggest supporters. It's nice to have parents that love me, but I can understand that you don't know what that feels like.
"Was it difficult?" - YOU try telling your parents that, in their eyes, you were born a mortal sinner and that you're doomed to go to hell. Then tell me how difficult it was. Idiot. OF COURSE it was difficult. I'm a GAY TEXAN!
"Did all of your friends stop talking to you?" - Some. Not all. They were closed minded and unwilling to understand and accept. I didn't need them anyway, I had better friends waiting to accept me for who I am. Unlike all of your friends who would stop talking to you because you didn't wear the right pair of jeans to the mall last weekend.
"When did you have your first boyfriend?" - age 15. His name was Mark and there's a part of me that still loves him. Yes, I love him. Romantic love can exist outside a relationship between a man and a woman.
"Did y'all have sex?" - Yes. He took my virginity with his 6 inch penis that curved to the right. It fit nicely inside my ass.
"Are you the pitcher or the catcher?" - I like both. They both have some pleasure to them. Why? Wanna try it? ;)
"So....who's the woman in the relationship?" - Neither. If I wanted to date a woman, I'd date my best friend. But I don't want to date a woman. I want to date men; so I do. We're both men in the relationship. That's what's making you so uncomfortable right now.
"Since you're both dudes, do you just, like, do it ALL THE TIME?" - Yes. You can be jealous starting......now.
Alright, I answered those questions a little crudely. But I feel that the questions were just as crude as the answers. No one would EVER think to ask a heterosexual stranger about the details of their sex life because it's none of your business. But some feel that because I'm a type of person they've never met before, they have the right to ask me whatever it is they want. How would you feel if I were asking you these types of questions?
Well, I'm stepping off my soap box now. I just needed to get that off my chest. Everyone's got a question for me. It's exhausting not having any secrets.
-K
I don't have a problem with this.
With that being said, you have to imagine the types of questions I get from people that feel they know me well enough to ask me about some of the darkest points in my life.
"When did you know you were gay?"
"How did your parents react?"
"Was it difficult?"
"Did all of your friends stop talking to you?"
"When did you have your first boyfriend?"
"Did y'all have sex?"
"Are you the pitcher or the catcher?"
"So....who's the woman in the relationship?"
"Since you're both dudes, do you just, like, do it ALL THE TIME?"
I get that it's rare for a Texan to meet a gay man. Especially in such a Republican area like the one that I live in. And I get that there are things that people are curious about. I mean, I'll admit, the first time I came across a lesbian, I had questions too. The first of them being "So....you, like.....LIKE pussy?"
But what I don't get is people that I have only known for mere days wanting to know what it was like to come out to my, very Republican, very Catholic, parents. That was a hard time for me! Harder than anything you've ever experienced. And to be quite honest, there are very few people I should feel comfortable divulging the events of that night with. But because of perfect strangers' constant questioning, I've learned to live my life as an open book. I've never turned down a question, never danced around an answer. I let people ask me whatever they want and I give them as graphic an answer as I can. Some get weirded out and try to stop me but I don't. If they're going to ask about my personal life, they're going to hear every detail no matter how uncomfortable it makes them.
"When did you know you were gay?" - age 4. I wore a blanket that my grandmother crocheted for me as a skirt. I learned how to walk better in heels than your girlfriend and realized my ass will always look twice as good in her jeans.
"How did your parents react?" - Fine. They were uncomfortable at first but we worked through it and now they are among my biggest supporters. It's nice to have parents that love me, but I can understand that you don't know what that feels like.
"Was it difficult?" - YOU try telling your parents that, in their eyes, you were born a mortal sinner and that you're doomed to go to hell. Then tell me how difficult it was. Idiot. OF COURSE it was difficult. I'm a GAY TEXAN!
"Did all of your friends stop talking to you?" - Some. Not all. They were closed minded and unwilling to understand and accept. I didn't need them anyway, I had better friends waiting to accept me for who I am. Unlike all of your friends who would stop talking to you because you didn't wear the right pair of jeans to the mall last weekend.
"When did you have your first boyfriend?" - age 15. His name was Mark and there's a part of me that still loves him. Yes, I love him. Romantic love can exist outside a relationship between a man and a woman.
"Did y'all have sex?" - Yes. He took my virginity with his 6 inch penis that curved to the right. It fit nicely inside my ass.
"Are you the pitcher or the catcher?" - I like both. They both have some pleasure to them. Why? Wanna try it? ;)
"So....who's the woman in the relationship?" - Neither. If I wanted to date a woman, I'd date my best friend. But I don't want to date a woman. I want to date men; so I do. We're both men in the relationship. That's what's making you so uncomfortable right now.
"Since you're both dudes, do you just, like, do it ALL THE TIME?" - Yes. You can be jealous starting......now.
Alright, I answered those questions a little crudely. But I feel that the questions were just as crude as the answers. No one would EVER think to ask a heterosexual stranger about the details of their sex life because it's none of your business. But some feel that because I'm a type of person they've never met before, they have the right to ask me whatever it is they want. How would you feel if I were asking you these types of questions?
Well, I'm stepping off my soap box now. I just needed to get that off my chest. Everyone's got a question for me. It's exhausting not having any secrets.
-K
The start of all things
Let me begin by saying that I am from Texas but I am in no way stereotypically Texan. While Texas will always be my home and I will never love a state like I love Texas, I am far from anything you can expect a Texan to be.
Iwant....need to live in a big city.
I do not ride horses on a regular basis.
I do not like country music.
I do not wear boots or 10 gallon hats.
I have only seen a cow three times in my life and have yet to touch, much less milk, one.
I am liberal.
I am Pro-Choice.
I am an advocate of Equal Rights.
I voted for President Barack Obama.
And I am a homosexual.
Never in my life have I felt that I fit in here. I've always imagined a world outside of this state. I would see movies and television shows depicting fabulous gay men living lavish lifestyles and I would think to myself, "Self," because I always reference myself when thinking to him. I'd think, "Self, one day, that will be you out there. Dressed in only the finest clothes and being driven around like Jackie O. Someone important. Someone everyone wants to be around. Someone....fabulous."
Cut to 15 years later; I'm 22 and still living in Texas (in my parents house, no less) Not once have I moved from this state. Not for college, not for love, not even just to escape. And like I said before, I don't hate it here. I really don't. Nothing beats the wide the open plains, the rolling hills, the best State Fair in all of the United States, and, of course, the Livestock Show and Rodeo (even though I've never been. I don't do well with the smell of manure.) But honestly? Something doesn't feel quite right here. Maybe it's the lack of similar (homosexual) people. Maybe it's the heat. Maybe it's the weird stares I get when I go into my favorite nail salon for a mani-pedi with my bestie while I'm sipping a latte and flipping through the most recent issue of vogue. I don't really know. But as much as things don't feel right here, something keeps bringing me back home.
Now, I must warn you, readers, that I never hold back. I will talk about everything here: sex, drugs, alcohol, men, fashion, jobs, family, friends, politics, religion....everything. But I am more than a homosexual. I am a writer, an uncle, an avid reader of classic books, a social networker, a youtuber, an employee. But the thing that will always outshine the rest: homosexual. So with that being said, I will tell you I have never held back a word that has come into my mind and I am not about to start now. Some of this may make you feel uncomfortable and that's okay. Life is about being uncomfortable sometimes; welcome to life, y'all, it's time to get uncomfortable.
-K
I
I do not ride horses on a regular basis.
I do not like country music.
I do not wear boots or 10 gallon hats.
I have only seen a cow three times in my life and have yet to touch, much less milk, one.
I am liberal.
I am Pro-Choice.
I am an advocate of Equal Rights.
I voted for President Barack Obama.
And I am a homosexual.
Never in my life have I felt that I fit in here. I've always imagined a world outside of this state. I would see movies and television shows depicting fabulous gay men living lavish lifestyles and I would think to myself, "Self," because I always reference myself when thinking to him. I'd think, "Self, one day, that will be you out there. Dressed in only the finest clothes and being driven around like Jackie O. Someone important. Someone everyone wants to be around. Someone....fabulous."
Cut to 15 years later; I'm 22 and still living in Texas (in my parents house, no less) Not once have I moved from this state. Not for college, not for love, not even just to escape. And like I said before, I don't hate it here. I really don't. Nothing beats the wide the open plains, the rolling hills, the best State Fair in all of the United States, and, of course, the Livestock Show and Rodeo (even though I've never been. I don't do well with the smell of manure.) But honestly? Something doesn't feel quite right here. Maybe it's the lack of similar (homosexual) people. Maybe it's the heat. Maybe it's the weird stares I get when I go into my favorite nail salon for a mani-pedi with my bestie while I'm sipping a latte and flipping through the most recent issue of vogue. I don't really know. But as much as things don't feel right here, something keeps bringing me back home.
Now, I must warn you, readers, that I never hold back. I will talk about everything here: sex, drugs, alcohol, men, fashion, jobs, family, friends, politics, religion....everything. But I am more than a homosexual. I am a writer, an uncle, an avid reader of classic books, a social networker, a youtuber, an employee. But the thing that will always outshine the rest: homosexual. So with that being said, I will tell you I have never held back a word that has come into my mind and I am not about to start now. Some of this may make you feel uncomfortable and that's okay. Life is about being uncomfortable sometimes; welcome to life, y'all, it's time to get uncomfortable.
-K
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