Almost 1 Year Anniversary

As I am one day away from I Am So Gay (and so are you for reading this)'s one year anniversary, I am literally filled with thoughts and emotions.

For me, starting this blog was a gigantic, huge first step.

Many years ago, I called my Aunt Ellen to wish her my support, as she had just found out she had breast cancer. It was a mixed conversation. Here she was - facing a serious health battle, which in just a few, short years would take her life - and she ended up giving me yet another gift and her loving support. While we spoke of many things (how she was feeling, what the next steps were, etc.), she cared way more about me and how I was doing. Can you believe the depth of that heart? It's unfathomable. I am too vain and self involved. I would be worrying all about me and my health, if I had been in her shoes. But, my aunt was seemingly always selfless.

What she told me that day has stayed with me forever. I can even remember where I was when she said just four simple words to me. They were meant as a suggestion, but the way she said was more like a direction. And it froze me in my steps.

Unable to move, and not sure how to reply, my aunt told me what my heart had told me for years. She told me, "you should be writing."

How did she know? It's because she knew me. With that, you would think I would have started writing right away. But I didn't. I didn't write for almost the better half of a decade later.

It took all those years since her diagnosis. I moved cities in that time. She saw me take a big step, just a different one - moving from DC to NYC for a job in the fashion world. She never got to see me write in my post college years. I did write privately. They were mostly scribbles on a pad, a journal, a post-it: anywhere when a phrase or thought popped in my head. But, they weren't formed. They weren't this.

Now, I can be a decisive, swift person. In theory.

Actually, I am often afraid or cautious. When I do make a decision, it usually has been well thought out, as I have debated it 18 billion times in my head, out loud, and with friends.

The idea for this blog wasn't simply thought out in a day. I knew I wanted to do humor. I want to make you laugh. I also wanted to maybe inspire some of you just a bit. The rest of what inspired this blog took time and now I feel like it's going in some kind of a direction, one in which is not quite there yet.

I'm not quite there with what I have and want to say to everyone, but I hope we're having fun on the journey. And that's what this is for me. I am writing about my journey finally.

In this blog - and even in today's story - you will see my look at my past. This past, though, is what has shaped my present and is what will push my future. I am writing about my life in my 30s. In New York. As a gay male. As a single male. As a hopefully funny male. And these are the bumps along the way.

I will always continue to write for those who maybe don't know that being gay is OK. Because it is.

When I write, I am writing to the 17 year old Greg, so I can tell him that everything will turn out OK. That life will have its bumps and we all find our way, even if it isn't always perfect. I hope I am reaching a few others who are young and in doubt. We all grow up. Gay, straight, or super curvy, we all grow up. Things pass. People change. You will always be great.

When I write, I try to make myself laugh. And if I don't, I know it isn't my best blog. They can't all be:

 http://iamsogayblog.blogspot.com/2013/04/reese-witherspoon-is-brunette-world-is.html

OR

http://iamsogayblog.blogspot.com/2012/11/hiding-in-soup-aisle-isnt-easy-but.html

But, in the end, I write because I am hoping to learn something and maybe we will learn it together.

I write because I am single and I want people to know that it is also OK. It isn't the end. What has started as a happy accident of bad dating choices has turned into a deliberate series of conscious choices to remain single. I could have settled down years ago, but I chose my own path. (Not that anyone offered me a ring or anything. Because if jewelry was involved, I totally . . . probably . . . would have chosen the bling.)

Looking back, I hope I make Auntie (yes, I called her auntie) Ellen laugh. I really hope that she's above me - or maybe looking next to me - and that she is laughing with me. She is in on the joke.

For her last Christmas, I had bought a box of Christmas cards that had classic Christmas sayings, but there was an obvious double meaning. Auntie Ellen got the card that said simply, "Merry And Gay." Or something like that. But that was all it said on the outside. No cutesy Santa or Snowman. Just a big ol' gay Christmas card (with something sweet written by me on the inside). And I know it brought her a few laughs over and over as she looked at it, across the sea of traditional Christmas cards to see 1 BIG GAY ONE.

So, I don't know what the future holds for this blog, but I know this: I will keep writing. It's been the best thing for me personally. This is my passion. And making others laugh is also my passion. I like to crack a joke. Some will be zingers, some will be losers, but hopefully we will keep laughing together for many more years to come.

Thanks for reading and being apart of this first year - this journey.
Keep smiling.

Thanks,
Greg


 

Please Don't Touch Me With Your Hair

Please don't touch me with your hair.

I mean, I'm sure you washed it.

Actually, now that I am thinking of it: how do I know that? It's just an assumption. A hope. A belief in your general sense of duty that you clean yourself (head included) daily. But, from what I am told about women, they don't wash their hair every day. Something about how it's shinier if they don't. And also there's a preference to wash hair in the evening because it takes so long to dry or something. Which means if you washed it last night, it's been on your dirty pillow all night.

And I've seen the Dateline NBC when they used the black light to show us what is on hotel pillows, so I can only assume that your pillow is likely worse than the good folks at Marriott.

So, I am going to take it back. I don't think that you have washed your hair. I am not THAT trusting of an individual and frankly speaking, you're a little casual with your hair flipping.

Here I am: reading my book my book on the subway (like a smart and responsible individual caring about the environment by using mass transit) and I get whacked in the face with your hair, which has been God-knows-where!

Where is a transit cop when you need one?

I feel violated.

Bonjour! Some say I have perfect hair, mon ami!

I am a self aware individual. I have size 11 feet and if I step on a person's foot on the train, I apologize sincerely. But you - YOU - just whack innocents with your Rapunzel-like hair day in/day out and laugh it off with your friends. 

Since this is a democracy, you get to grow your hair to whichever catastrophic level length you choose, while I keep my hair nice and trim. Some have even said my hair is perfect. "What a nice hair cut, Greg!," they exclaim. 

You might get the same praise if you go a little more to the shorn side. 

And I'm sorry for so personally attacking you. Because you aren't the only one who is committing this crime. It really has gone to epidemic levels. 

Why - I can remember just last week when I was on my way to a nice Saturday night dinner with some friends and I got a mouthful of hair. I was casually minding myself at the bar and waiting for my friends and - BAM - violated by someone long haired. A girl, no more than 25, threw her hair up in the air to look flirty (and let's face it: trampy) to her male companion and whacked me right in the face. Evidently, not only are "long hairs" completely unaware of the tight social spaces we face in large, metropolitan areas like Brooklyn, but also the very split ends of their hair are so dead they cannot tell when they hit people. 

It's a cause for concern! 

I've thought about alerting local authorities, the media or perhaps a support group, but in the end, it's me  - a "short hair" - against a "long hair" world.

Just don't mind the person with a face mask on a subway. He isn't a criminal. He is just simply avoiding the "real" criminals out there.