Today is a gorgeous Fall day. The leaves haven't quite changed yet in Brooklyn. They are a faded green with the beginnings of brown. It's been the kind of weather that I love, where it isn't cold yet, but you can wear a scarf or a jacket if you want. And yet, I can still wear flip flops to do errands in my neighborhood. I love Fall.
It is October 6th and, in roughly a week, my parents will have their 40th wedding anniversary. 40 years! I haven't even been around for 40 years. (I Am So Young - like so young - so very young.)
I can't fathom a relationship that long. I admire it. I greatly admire it. I have such respect for it because I comprehend that it wasn't ever easy. Far from it. There is so much that can be said about it that is so specific (and I won't divulge it) but I just have to smile and say that: regardless of life, my parents found a way to be in each other's life for almost half a century. You can't knock that down. They have had a relationship, a home, children, pain, joy, and experiences together and it blows me away.
I look at their relationship - and I would even add friendship - from a single person's point of view. Being perennially single has given me a unique view on coupling. I sometimes fear it. There has to be a complete trust in another person. When my mother has been hurt, my father hurts. I don't know if I could be strong enough to endure another person's pain and I think that says something about me, but also my parents.
While this could be a love letter to my parents, it would only serve to embarrass them (perhaps only my mom; my dad doesn't embarrass easily).
Instead, I will take the point of view of my single self. I have had friendships that have lasted from grade school to present day. (I am looking at you: Danny and Tami.)
And I also have friends from high school to now. (Hello, Melissa and Stephanie!)
And it gives me a great sense of pride and love. So much so, that I even used their real names and not used fake names, as if they were the characters of Charlie's Angels! Because Stephanie would definitely karate chop me. (But FYI - I'm totally the type of friend who would be Charlie. Mysterious rich guy, speaker box, sexy detective agency? Yeah, I am Charlie.)
But I am still missing the longevity of a lasting relationship. I meet people. (I'm not a total shut in,)
No, really! I'm not a crazy cat lady! Because I'm allergic.
Although, I do have a big love of candles....hmmm, ok I will rethink the candles (but they smell so good!)
It's just that my parents met and stayed together somehow near each other for 40 years. I have 3 dates with someone and one of us usually realizes: "I want to get away from you!"
How do you maintain an actual interest in another person for years upon years? YEARS? DECADES!!?? Good GOD!
I realize that I am young....ish ... but the chances of me meeting someone and making it 40 years is probably a future I won't have to consider. Unless I meet him today and I live beyond the age of 73. But, with the combination of my dating luck, my actual clumsiness, and prolonged drinking abilities, I am thinking I will be around to the ripe old age of 34.
Now, I'm not saying that the end is near.
.
I just think I probably will find my "soul" mate later in life. Possibly when we have all given up on six pack abs and six packs altogether. Wine is a more adult beverage, in my opinion.
And I hope I can stimulate his interest and our relationship for decades, too. I just need to figure out how. From my understanding, it seems to be the cumulation of experiences (vacations, children, health scares, money issues, home worries and life losses) that seem to bond couples most.
If I could meet a real estate agent who helps me with financing while also helping me to adopt a baby all while we suffer an earthquake or something, I might be able to land that husband. In the meantime, I am going to keep trying at it the old fashioned way: dating. Wish me luck!
Saturday, October 6, 2012
Saturday, September 22, 2012
Letting Go and Hanging On For Dear Life
I try to be a very positive person and, especially on I Am So Gay, I try to show all the positive aspects of life, even when someone is asking you to make lemonade. (Seriously, I just buy my lemonade. Who makes it these days?)
But, there have been several moments in my life recently that forced me to finally stop and realize that things are changing. And not necessarily for good. The hardest changes for me usually are around losing people, which has happened recently.
People break-up and friend dynamic changes. People move. People quit. Or people just say, "get away from me, you strange, curly haired guy I don't know." (Admittedly, only people I don't know say that to me.)
But, it's a profoundly sad thing for me when I take stock and realize that my soap opera's cast of characters are getting the boot. I mean, I'm Erica Kane, or possibly that old guy with the mustache on The Young and The Restless. Regardless, you know I am sticking around. Yet, this season, my sassy set of other characters are traveling or moving to exotic locales like Asia, or the more desired location of - you guessed it - Big Stone Gap, Virginia.
Two of these friends are actually leaving by choice for new life pursuits and I wish them the best. Their contracts maybe didn't get renewed on the show, but I am told it is by choice they are leaving New York. They are individually positive and fun people to be around, so it was not fun to say good-bye. It's hard trying to make something positive when you just want to be a big baby and throw a major melt down and scream NO! NO! NO!
(In a Sarah Jessica Parker voice...) So, it makes me wonder ... as we age, and as I age more importantly, how many more cast rotations (willing or unwilling) will I endure? How many good-byes do we have to say?
(Back to my normal voice)
I have lost some friends or relationships in my life that were definitely unwilling to go but I had to cut that cord. And I think it's ok for that to happen. You get to a point in your life where you have to say: this person isn't good for me and they need to go! RIGHT NOW!
Some friends will always be amazing, but some will be a huge drag on yourself. For example, I had a good friend who for the sake of the blog we will call, Why Me. And Why Me always seemed to have problems she couldn't handle on her own and needed constant reassurement. (Yes, Why Me is a girl's name. Look it up. All the baby books are gobbling it up since Angelia Jolie named her 17th child, Why Me.)
Anyways, as a dutiful friend to Why Me, I hung in there and tried to always be there for her and give her sound advice. The thing was: she was also a bit of a turtle when it came to life. She never came out of her shell. And you may guess from reading about me, I am OUT of my shell, so to speak. Being shy has never been a huge concern and I am usually willing to try anything once. Why Me was a bit of a mismatch as the years passed. It was really starting to be a weight on our friendship. If someone isn't on the same stage as you, it's kind of hard to have a show. You have to be willing to do things and be on the same level as your friends most of the time, otherwise what is there to share and celebrate?
You just get to a point where you have to phase people out of your life and the reasons always vary. The ending of that friendship is always the example that comes to mind when I am having a challenging relationship. I took stock of what was good and healthy for me, and ultimately it was a relationship that wasn't healthy for me, so I got out of that. I stayed in it because she was like family. Your friends become a family that you just weren't born with and - better yet - you even get to choose them!
And it was then that I realized in a real way that I choose my friendships and my path in life. You can let go to some and death grip others because they are way too special to you. Consequently, they may want to let go of you. And while that sucks royally, it's part of life and you have to accept it.
Relationships come and go. Or just simply and sometimes wildly change.
My parting thought is that you have to endure the good-byes to allow for more hellos. And while some of the good-byes I have had recently were good, one of those good-byes was literally heart breaking because it was a bad relationship and I had to walk away from it.
I have faith in myself, though, and in the life I have created, that I will be ok. People may not stay in my life forever. The fact that I am (as obnoxious as it sounds) my own best friend gives me this solace.
So, as I say good-bye, be ready for a hello. It's a new door and let's open it.
But, there have been several moments in my life recently that forced me to finally stop and realize that things are changing. And not necessarily for good. The hardest changes for me usually are around losing people, which has happened recently.
People break-up and friend dynamic changes. People move. People quit. Or people just say, "get away from me, you strange, curly haired guy I don't know." (Admittedly, only people I don't know say that to me.)
But, it's a profoundly sad thing for me when I take stock and realize that my soap opera's cast of characters are getting the boot. I mean, I'm Erica Kane, or possibly that old guy with the mustache on The Young and The Restless. Regardless, you know I am sticking around. Yet, this season, my sassy set of other characters are traveling or moving to exotic locales like Asia, or the more desired location of - you guessed it - Big Stone Gap, Virginia.
Two of these friends are actually leaving by choice for new life pursuits and I wish them the best. Their contracts maybe didn't get renewed on the show, but I am told it is by choice they are leaving New York. They are individually positive and fun people to be around, so it was not fun to say good-bye. It's hard trying to make something positive when you just want to be a big baby and throw a major melt down and scream NO! NO! NO!
(In a Sarah Jessica Parker voice...) So, it makes me wonder ... as we age, and as I age more importantly, how many more cast rotations (willing or unwilling) will I endure? How many good-byes do we have to say?
(Back to my normal voice)
I have lost some friends or relationships in my life that were definitely unwilling to go but I had to cut that cord. And I think it's ok for that to happen. You get to a point in your life where you have to say: this person isn't good for me and they need to go! RIGHT NOW!
Some friends will always be amazing, but some will be a huge drag on yourself. For example, I had a good friend who for the sake of the blog we will call, Why Me. And Why Me always seemed to have problems she couldn't handle on her own and needed constant reassurement. (Yes, Why Me is a girl's name. Look it up. All the baby books are gobbling it up since Angelia Jolie named her 17th child, Why Me.)
Anyways, as a dutiful friend to Why Me, I hung in there and tried to always be there for her and give her sound advice. The thing was: she was also a bit of a turtle when it came to life. She never came out of her shell. And you may guess from reading about me, I am OUT of my shell, so to speak. Being shy has never been a huge concern and I am usually willing to try anything once. Why Me was a bit of a mismatch as the years passed. It was really starting to be a weight on our friendship. If someone isn't on the same stage as you, it's kind of hard to have a show. You have to be willing to do things and be on the same level as your friends most of the time, otherwise what is there to share and celebrate?
You just get to a point where you have to phase people out of your life and the reasons always vary. The ending of that friendship is always the example that comes to mind when I am having a challenging relationship. I took stock of what was good and healthy for me, and ultimately it was a relationship that wasn't healthy for me, so I got out of that. I stayed in it because she was like family. Your friends become a family that you just weren't born with and - better yet - you even get to choose them!
And it was then that I realized in a real way that I choose my friendships and my path in life. You can let go to some and death grip others because they are way too special to you. Consequently, they may want to let go of you. And while that sucks royally, it's part of life and you have to accept it.
Relationships come and go. Or just simply and sometimes wildly change.
My parting thought is that you have to endure the good-byes to allow for more hellos. And while some of the good-byes I have had recently were good, one of those good-byes was literally heart breaking because it was a bad relationship and I had to walk away from it.
I have faith in myself, though, and in the life I have created, that I will be ok. People may not stay in my life forever. The fact that I am (as obnoxious as it sounds) my own best friend gives me this solace.
So, as I say good-bye, be ready for a hello. It's a new door and let's open it.
Thursday, September 20, 2012
Like Me On Facebook ... Or Something Better Than That?
https://www.facebook.com/Iamsogayblog.blogspot?ref=hl
That's my link. Search I AM SO GAY on Facebook and like me? Like me? Be my 53rd like?
Oh, won't you like me?
I hope you do.
That's my link. Search I AM SO GAY on Facebook and like me? Like me? Be my 53rd like?
Oh, won't you like me?
I hope you do.
Sunday, September 9, 2012
Sun and Then Some Clouds
Yesterday was cloudy. Unlike today, it never became sunny. I ran 8.5 miles on a hazy, grey day. I came home right before a massive downpour drenched Brooklyn. I was still home when a tornado touched down in Coney Island. Ironically, I wanted to lay on the beach on Coney Island on Saturday, but that would now have to wait. Today had some clouds.
Weather is life. Weather is daily, forever changing, yet a constant. Weather - just like life - is freaking scary, too. I mean - a tornado?! On a beach that I have gone to for several weeks this summer?! That is also a 20 minute train ride from my house?!
Yeah, life and weather can be scary. Yesterday, when I saw big, charcoal clouds move very quickly across the sky around 6 p.m., I got a little scared. I lit a few candles. It's not winter solstice yet and it should have been sunny out, but I had to light me some candles and turn on the lights. Like a little old lady, I was fearing the worst. All before dinner time.
My week had been a lot like this. Sun - and then some super bad clouds. My first blog post talks about this. And just when I was going to touch upon this very theme and write a really awesome story - more clouds happened.
It all first started last weekend when I was in Ocean City, Maryland. I took the "I Hate You" bus down to visit my "I Love You So Much" friends in DC. (It's a complicated relationship.) I spent the night prior to our trip in DC before we drove to Ocean City.
Now, DC to Maryland. Pretty easy, right? Yep. Except we went through Delaware by accident and had to go back to Maryland. And I wasn't even driving and everyone was sober. DC to Maryland via Delaware? Who knew? Well, it was eventful. I chalk the incident up to the fact that we were enjoying each other's company so much and weren't following the signs that said "Dover - 30 miles." But I digress.
After the driving hiccup, it should be smooth sailing, right? Nope! It was super cloudy and humid - no sun to be found. But, best of all - the black flies decided to celebrate my visit and stay awhile, too. I am not a huge swimmer, but I stayed in the water for roughly 90 minutes because it was the one place where black flies won't go. Who would have thought that black flies and Greg would have a fear of water in common? Scientists maybe, and also my friends, but that's besides the point.
Ever the ready traveler, I went upstairs to our condo and made lemonade out of lemons. (Not literally.) If I couldn't relax on a sunny, calm beach without being a landing pad for huge, stinging insects, then I was going to read my book and drink wine. I mean, this was Labor Day weekend after all and I am a vigilant American. I celebrate each and every holiday properly.
Labor Day - drinking.
Columbus Day - discovering.
Halloween - eating.
Thanksgiving - eating.
Christmas - coin toss. Drinking or eating. Or both.
Valentine's Day - eating.
St. Patrick's Day - wearing green. Ahhh! Just kidding - I'm drinking.
April Fool's Day - hiding.
My Birthday - doing every single thing I want to do!
Flag Day - stealing everyone's flags.
Independence Day - drinking.
I am supremely patriotic, as you can tell. If I missed a holiday, feel free to comment on the blog below and I will tell you what I do on that day. (Fun Fact: Groundhog's Day - Eighteen more years of winter??? BLAH! Drinking!!)
Now, the rest of the weekend turned out mostly fine, except for the thunderous downpours that occurred on Sunday night and parts of Monday. While there were a lot of clouds, there was also some sun. And that is the part of the journey to reflect on. The sunny parts.
I found joy and peace - even on my own terms. If I couldn't have it in one place, I found somewhere else to. The wine and the book on the couch of a condo were each great and relaxing. I didn't think about work. No labor on Labor Day, I always say. I was all very Zen and smiling.
I went back to NYC on Tuesday morning, went straight into work, and for the most part, was smiley and super happy - even to start my shortened work week. I love me some four day work weeks (although they always seem longer than a five day work week).
Later on in my work week, I heard some terrible news about a member of my family who had passed away on Labor Day. I found out just after having a great morning. I was able to do an early morning run. I was endorphin high, it was a gorgeous day out and then bam - huge BLEEPIN' cloud. My family member was gone and it was a profound loss for so many.
Life is like that: one minute good, next minute bad. This is all very simplistic for me to say, but I learned early on how to understand death and sadness. When my grandfather passed away, I was in the fourth grade. He was the first person I ever really knew who died and I couldn't understand it all. Why do we get old or get sick? Why does God put us here, only to take us away? Shouldn't life be so much more than that? This was some pretty big stuff for my tiny, fourth grade brain and my parents asked the priest at school to help. Father Graves actually did answer all my questions pretty well and took me seriously. I eventually understood the whole "Circle of Life" thing, years before The Lion King sang it to me.
I think I learned early on that life was not a game. We do play for keeps, but the time here is limited. It's best not to be spent on stupid crap. (Although, watching TV is not stupid crap. I don't care what any parent organization is saying this week. TV is time spent with someone I love: Patrick Dempsey.)
My point (and why I keep cracking silly jokes) is that life can be total crap. You can get lost - in life or through Delaware, but there are more ways to get to your destination. You can have things attack you and even if you can't shoo a fly, you can find your own way out of the problem. Your day can literally be ruined, but there is still you at the end of the day.
This is what I continue to learn. There is still me. I have all the power in a situation, even when it is a problem well beyond my control. I still have control over me: how I react and how I live.
I like to think - and hope - that I will always be able to continue to find the joy in things, the humor when things seem their most bleak, and the reason to go forward. It is really hard when you are just going through your days like anyone, and trying to make the most out of today. But, I hope I continue to do this. I hope each and every person I know does the same thing.
I Am So Gay (and so are you for reading this), but I Am So Not Giving Up. I will fight the clouds. Because I love me some sun.
Love,
Me
Weather is life. Weather is daily, forever changing, yet a constant. Weather - just like life - is freaking scary, too. I mean - a tornado?! On a beach that I have gone to for several weeks this summer?! That is also a 20 minute train ride from my house?!
Yeah, life and weather can be scary. Yesterday, when I saw big, charcoal clouds move very quickly across the sky around 6 p.m., I got a little scared. I lit a few candles. It's not winter solstice yet and it should have been sunny out, but I had to light me some candles and turn on the lights. Like a little old lady, I was fearing the worst. All before dinner time.
My week had been a lot like this. Sun - and then some super bad clouds. My first blog post talks about this. And just when I was going to touch upon this very theme and write a really awesome story - more clouds happened.
It all first started last weekend when I was in Ocean City, Maryland. I took the "I Hate You" bus down to visit my "I Love You So Much" friends in DC. (It's a complicated relationship.) I spent the night prior to our trip in DC before we drove to Ocean City.
Now, DC to Maryland. Pretty easy, right? Yep. Except we went through Delaware by accident and had to go back to Maryland. And I wasn't even driving and everyone was sober. DC to Maryland via Delaware? Who knew? Well, it was eventful. I chalk the incident up to the fact that we were enjoying each other's company so much and weren't following the signs that said "Dover - 30 miles." But I digress.
After the driving hiccup, it should be smooth sailing, right? Nope! It was super cloudy and humid - no sun to be found. But, best of all - the black flies decided to celebrate my visit and stay awhile, too. I am not a huge swimmer, but I stayed in the water for roughly 90 minutes because it was the one place where black flies won't go. Who would have thought that black flies and Greg would have a fear of water in common? Scientists maybe, and also my friends, but that's besides the point.
Ever the ready traveler, I went upstairs to our condo and made lemonade out of lemons. (Not literally.) If I couldn't relax on a sunny, calm beach without being a landing pad for huge, stinging insects, then I was going to read my book and drink wine. I mean, this was Labor Day weekend after all and I am a vigilant American. I celebrate each and every holiday properly.
Labor Day - drinking.
Columbus Day - discovering.
Halloween - eating.
Thanksgiving - eating.
Christmas - coin toss. Drinking or eating. Or both.
Valentine's Day - eating.
St. Patrick's Day - wearing green. Ahhh! Just kidding - I'm drinking.
April Fool's Day - hiding.
My Birthday - doing every single thing I want to do!
Flag Day - stealing everyone's flags.
Independence Day - drinking.
I am supremely patriotic, as you can tell. If I missed a holiday, feel free to comment on the blog below and I will tell you what I do on that day. (Fun Fact: Groundhog's Day - Eighteen more years of winter??? BLAH! Drinking!!)
Now, the rest of the weekend turned out mostly fine, except for the thunderous downpours that occurred on Sunday night and parts of Monday. While there were a lot of clouds, there was also some sun. And that is the part of the journey to reflect on. The sunny parts.
I found joy and peace - even on my own terms. If I couldn't have it in one place, I found somewhere else to. The wine and the book on the couch of a condo were each great and relaxing. I didn't think about work. No labor on Labor Day, I always say. I was all very Zen and smiling.
I went back to NYC on Tuesday morning, went straight into work, and for the most part, was smiley and super happy - even to start my shortened work week. I love me some four day work weeks (although they always seem longer than a five day work week).
Later on in my work week, I heard some terrible news about a member of my family who had passed away on Labor Day. I found out just after having a great morning. I was able to do an early morning run. I was endorphin high, it was a gorgeous day out and then bam - huge BLEEPIN' cloud. My family member was gone and it was a profound loss for so many.
Life is like that: one minute good, next minute bad. This is all very simplistic for me to say, but I learned early on how to understand death and sadness. When my grandfather passed away, I was in the fourth grade. He was the first person I ever really knew who died and I couldn't understand it all. Why do we get old or get sick? Why does God put us here, only to take us away? Shouldn't life be so much more than that? This was some pretty big stuff for my tiny, fourth grade brain and my parents asked the priest at school to help. Father Graves actually did answer all my questions pretty well and took me seriously. I eventually understood the whole "Circle of Life" thing, years before The Lion King sang it to me.
I think I learned early on that life was not a game. We do play for keeps, but the time here is limited. It's best not to be spent on stupid crap. (Although, watching TV is not stupid crap. I don't care what any parent organization is saying this week. TV is time spent with someone I love: Patrick Dempsey.)
My point (and why I keep cracking silly jokes) is that life can be total crap. You can get lost - in life or through Delaware, but there are more ways to get to your destination. You can have things attack you and even if you can't shoo a fly, you can find your own way out of the problem. Your day can literally be ruined, but there is still you at the end of the day.
This is what I continue to learn. There is still me. I have all the power in a situation, even when it is a problem well beyond my control. I still have control over me: how I react and how I live.
I like to think - and hope - that I will always be able to continue to find the joy in things, the humor when things seem their most bleak, and the reason to go forward. It is really hard when you are just going through your days like anyone, and trying to make the most out of today. But, I hope I continue to do this. I hope each and every person I know does the same thing.
I Am So Gay (and so are you for reading this), but I Am So Not Giving Up. I will fight the clouds. Because I love me some sun.
Love,
Me
Friday, August 31, 2012
I’m 33 … And Hungover
I like to think that I am a responsible
person and I make responsible decisions. But I don’t always. Often, but
not always. And I made a bad choice last Sunday. I decided to be Capt.
McRummy of the Rum Liberation Army. I freed “gallons” of rum and poured
it into my freshly blended watermelon juice. It was delicious. And
strong. And the rum fought a mighty battle and was victorious.
It looked something like this.... except with rum, instead of beer.
This part of the story would be enough to say… “Yeah, Greg – you are dumb!” And you would be right. But, it gets worse.
Rum and watermelon isn’t my usual drink of choice. And I am pretty sure it was a brand of rum I had never heard of. But I also was Lt. McWinetown before I became Capt. McRummy. So wine, then rum, and I was feeling – woo hoo!
But, don’t forget now… I said this all happened on a Sunday. I did this on a Sunday.
Yep! I had to work the next day. Now, I am sure my “legions” of readers are all 22 and can bounce back from keg stands at lunch on a Wednesday. I, however, cannot.
Monday morning came and came early. I was up at 5 a.m. Why? I have no bleepin’ clue. My wonderful body decided that I needed all of FIVE hours of sleep and I should be good to go. “Start the day!,” it bellowed into my hollow soul.
With that, I laid in bed for awhile and tried to fight that “I am incredibly awake” feeling I inexplicably had. My body almost forgotten my night of fun it seemed. So, I woke up (slowly) and made coffee. And it was the worst coffee of my life. In my marathon “rush” to get the coffee made, I must have decided to go light on grounds and heavy on water. How do I know? Well – because it tasted like the world’s prize-winning edition of coffee-based water. Scientists could marvel at how awful and weak it was. And this was on a day where I needed a coffee like my mother needs a hair dryer. (Seriously, the woman needs a hair dryer or she will ruin you. )
So, I was drinking useless coffee and trying to assess the situation and I realized suddenly … I am not feeling so good. Like, really … not … good. Not ... good.
To my credit, my stomach was incredibly unhappy with me, but it held fast. It asked for ginger ale and carbonated beverages and I supplied it. Aspirin was a novelty joke addition to the problem. The Aspirin bottle just stared and laughed at me. “Listen old man, I ain’t gonna get you out of this.” Aspirin can be a cruel bedfellow.
Ginger Ale was fortunately much nicer to me. It’s probably because only 70 year olds and I are the only people buying the brew. So, Ginger Ale knew to be kind to me to maintain our continued business relationship. (FACT: Ginger Ale is the only soda you will ever see in my fridge on a regular basis. However, find me an old timey glass bottle of root beer and I would drink it.)
Well, I digress. After taking the aspirin, it all occurred to me. I am so unbelievably old.
It’s cute to be hungover when you’re 25. It’s a badge of honor. Oh look at that crazy, young lad. He really knows how to party. But, hungover at 33 is just sad. It means you are stupid.
And your body doesn’t know what to do with it all. My body woke up and said, “Bleep you! Bleep you! Bleep you!” (My body is a huge swear word user. I, however, curse only at church or funerals.)
So, my body finally came to life TWO hours AFTER being physically awake and only then decided to start hating on me. And by hating, I mean – it decided to make me feel … headache filled. And stomach rumbly. But headache filled, above all else.
Now, have I told you I live in NYC? And have I told you I hate subways? Oh good. Well, being 33 and hungover and living in New York is the equivalent to watching the speeches at the Republican National Convention. You want to scream out loud and say, “Why, God? Why?”
The noises a subway can make. The noises a jackhammer makes on the street. The noises people talking to each other make. Can everyone SHUT UP? Nope! Because New York is allegedly the city that never sleeps. Though, having been to Las Vegas, I think there is room for argument.
For you devoted readers, you may realize that this little story is a continuation from my last blog. I had three parties in one weekend, and the toll finally occurred on Sunday.
This hangover is not to be confused with the Bradley Cooper movies. (I know. Bradley Cooper totally stole my look. It’s fine, though. I will steal his underwear in retaliation … someday.) While hangovers are unnecessary and useless, nothing comedic happened.
And I was ok, aside from some amusing texts to my friend. For the sake of the blog, we will call her Lolita. It’s a play on her name, and makes her sound like a Russian spy. At least in my head.
Lolita consoled me for my drinking mistake, my Sunday mistake, and all the mistakes I have ever made in my life. It wasn’t quite priest-level confessional, but it was two friends making each other laugh. I cried how old I was and she told me that she snort laughed out loud on her crowded bus, which comforted me immensely.
I did learn a lesson, though. I always know when to say no. Nancy Reagan taught me well. (I also style my hair and clothing from her, in addition to her love of gay male hairdressers.) But, I really should have kept being Lt. McWinetown and not “upgraded” within the ranks of the drinking army.
The bigger lesson was: maybe three parties in 1 weekend is too much. I went from zero to hero too quickly. It is better to space out the friend love, and maybe just 1 party a weekend really is my speed due to my advanced age.
I am glad I tried the experiment. For having the experience and not missing the meaning. Or whatever Mark Twain once said. I don’t think I missed the meaning, though. Not this time.
Love,
Me
It looked something like this.... except with rum, instead of beer.
This part of the story would be enough to say… “Yeah, Greg – you are dumb!” And you would be right. But, it gets worse.
Rum and watermelon isn’t my usual drink of choice. And I am pretty sure it was a brand of rum I had never heard of. But I also was Lt. McWinetown before I became Capt. McRummy. So wine, then rum, and I was feeling – woo hoo!
But, don’t forget now… I said this all happened on a Sunday. I did this on a Sunday.
Yep! I had to work the next day. Now, I am sure my “legions” of readers are all 22 and can bounce back from keg stands at lunch on a Wednesday. I, however, cannot.
Monday morning came and came early. I was up at 5 a.m. Why? I have no bleepin’ clue. My wonderful body decided that I needed all of FIVE hours of sleep and I should be good to go. “Start the day!,” it bellowed into my hollow soul.
With that, I laid in bed for awhile and tried to fight that “I am incredibly awake” feeling I inexplicably had. My body almost forgotten my night of fun it seemed. So, I woke up (slowly) and made coffee. And it was the worst coffee of my life. In my marathon “rush” to get the coffee made, I must have decided to go light on grounds and heavy on water. How do I know? Well – because it tasted like the world’s prize-winning edition of coffee-based water. Scientists could marvel at how awful and weak it was. And this was on a day where I needed a coffee like my mother needs a hair dryer. (Seriously, the woman needs a hair dryer or she will ruin you. )
So, I was drinking useless coffee and trying to assess the situation and I realized suddenly … I am not feeling so good. Like, really … not … good. Not ... good.
To my credit, my stomach was incredibly unhappy with me, but it held fast. It asked for ginger ale and carbonated beverages and I supplied it. Aspirin was a novelty joke addition to the problem. The Aspirin bottle just stared and laughed at me. “Listen old man, I ain’t gonna get you out of this.” Aspirin can be a cruel bedfellow.
Ginger Ale was fortunately much nicer to me. It’s probably because only 70 year olds and I are the only people buying the brew. So, Ginger Ale knew to be kind to me to maintain our continued business relationship. (FACT: Ginger Ale is the only soda you will ever see in my fridge on a regular basis. However, find me an old timey glass bottle of root beer and I would drink it.)
Well, I digress. After taking the aspirin, it all occurred to me. I am so unbelievably old.
It’s cute to be hungover when you’re 25. It’s a badge of honor. Oh look at that crazy, young lad. He really knows how to party. But, hungover at 33 is just sad. It means you are stupid.
And your body doesn’t know what to do with it all. My body woke up and said, “Bleep you! Bleep you! Bleep you!” (My body is a huge swear word user. I, however, curse only at church or funerals.)
So, my body finally came to life TWO hours AFTER being physically awake and only then decided to start hating on me. And by hating, I mean – it decided to make me feel … headache filled. And stomach rumbly. But headache filled, above all else.
Now, have I told you I live in NYC? And have I told you I hate subways? Oh good. Well, being 33 and hungover and living in New York is the equivalent to watching the speeches at the Republican National Convention. You want to scream out loud and say, “Why, God? Why?”
The noises a subway can make. The noises a jackhammer makes on the street. The noises people talking to each other make. Can everyone SHUT UP? Nope! Because New York is allegedly the city that never sleeps. Though, having been to Las Vegas, I think there is room for argument.
For you devoted readers, you may realize that this little story is a continuation from my last blog. I had three parties in one weekend, and the toll finally occurred on Sunday.
This hangover is not to be confused with the Bradley Cooper movies. (I know. Bradley Cooper totally stole my look. It’s fine, though. I will steal his underwear in retaliation … someday.) While hangovers are unnecessary and useless, nothing comedic happened.
And I was ok, aside from some amusing texts to my friend. For the sake of the blog, we will call her Lolita. It’s a play on her name, and makes her sound like a Russian spy. At least in my head.
Lolita consoled me for my drinking mistake, my Sunday mistake, and all the mistakes I have ever made in my life. It wasn’t quite priest-level confessional, but it was two friends making each other laugh. I cried how old I was and she told me that she snort laughed out loud on her crowded bus, which comforted me immensely.
I did learn a lesson, though. I always know when to say no. Nancy Reagan taught me well. (I also style my hair and clothing from her, in addition to her love of gay male hairdressers.) But, I really should have kept being Lt. McWinetown and not “upgraded” within the ranks of the drinking army.
The bigger lesson was: maybe three parties in 1 weekend is too much. I went from zero to hero too quickly. It is better to space out the friend love, and maybe just 1 party a weekend really is my speed due to my advanced age.
I am glad I tried the experiment. For having the experience and not missing the meaning. Or whatever Mark Twain once said. I don’t think I missed the meaning, though. Not this time.
Love,
Me
Sunday, August 26, 2012
I Find Solace That I'm Not The Only Single One
So, I feel like we have gotten to know each other really well over the past 2 months of this blog. Well, you've learned all about me. I know nothing about you! (Way to keep secrets, dear "friends!")
One thing you may have noticed is that I am single. And that's OK.
It is. It's OK. I essentially feel that if I continue to be perennially single but feel truly happy, then it's OK. Don't get me wrong: I would LOVE to have woken up next to a guy this morning and every other morning that follows. But, if it doesn't work out, then I'd like to think I will continue to find happiness from within me.
I was at a house party last night. A lovely house party. And there were friends my age there. Some younger and some just a few years older. The good news (for me) was that several of them are single, too. I have gone to other parties and it's just couples, couples, couples. I get it. You put a ring on it. But it can really make me dread and then detest the party I'm at. Everyone is holding hands or staying right on top of their spouse. Why? I don't know. Maybe they're afraid she will run away (like Katie Holmes) if given a moment's freedom.
All I know is these parties make me feel like it is" Greg"the lone wolf" time. (And yes: I BLEEPING HATE NEW YEAR'S!!!)
In some ways, I do feel like I have a loner side. Which, to know me, is a bit shocking. On paper, I seem like an extrovert. But, I'm not. I don't like public speaking. I have huge insecurities of saying the wrong thing, and to make matters worse - I do that often. (Like the time when I made a new friend a ball game this week. She happened to be in the closest seat near me and we made small talk and laughed. I then told her she was brave bringing her three boys out to the game. She replied, "well ... one of them is my daughter.")
So, yeah, sometimes the loner track may not be a bad thing. I enjoy my quiet time. I also just enjoy literally quiet time. Some people don't know to appreciate quiet and their librarian lovers resent them until the day they die.
I, however, just enjoy being on my own sometimes. It took me a long time to get here. It didn't happen overnight.
I used to go crazy if I wasn't scheduled every night with some friend. I always had to have something going on. This weekend: I had 4 social obligations to go to and literally made me pause. "That's a lot," an internal warning system alerted. "I will have to drop one of them so I can have time for myself."
But - just as a test - and also because it's the end of the summer, I decided to try to do all 4 things. And I am on the last day and I am looking forward to today's party (where I will undoubtedly embarrass myself and/or say something hilarious and awkward.)
At last night's party, there were several beautiful women and men and like I said - they are single, too. We are all athletic and really fit. The men and women are straight. So, if this was the "Real World" House, guess who was the "diversity?" THIS GUY!
But, it made my head crazy. They're gorgeous and from what I have seen - also stable. They are funny, smart, have great jobs and are easy to talk with. People from the opposite sex should walking on hot coals to get to them. These people clearly are getting it on in some way with someone. They just can't be "single" single. So, I - of course! - asked everyone loudly, "WHO ARE YOU BLEEPING?" (For the sake of the blog, I used a naughtier word. But, I like to keep the blog pure and innocent. Wink!)
By the way, if game shows were really big on TV right now, I am sure there would be a show called, "Who Are You Bleeping?," and Regis Philbin would be hosting it. But, I digress.
My question made people undoubtedly blush, and the question had the force of a rubber ball. Someone lobbed it back to me. And, yes, dear readers, I can take the medicine I give out. I am a big girl and I can walk the walk. (I can seriously walk. Tyra Banks ain't so fierce to me!)
So, I told the recent story of someone I have had some dates with. It drew some sisterhood and laughs. Yet, people were still quiet about their lives. (Except one closer friend. She leaned in and whispered that she's got something on the horizon. Which is awesome!)
My point to all of this is: if you can't talk about it all, and laugh about it, then what's the point? Half the reason I will say yes to a date will be for the experience. At the very least, I think, I could learn something about the city, see a new restaurant or place, and have a memory. Dates allow us to become stronger, smarter and - in my case - funnier!
I am OK on my own, but I also don't want to be on my own forever necessarily. So, I take a chance and I go with it. But, don't be quiet about it. I understand some privacy is important, but roll the dice and talk about it, too. Sometimes the best way I have coped from a bad date was laughing about it with my friends.
Men come and go and even friends as you age can come and go, too. It is having the experience and then finding the humor that is really important. You have to be able to pick yourself up, have a chuckle and grab the dice again. It's Vegas, baby! You be on a winning streak, you may be on a losing streak. But, take a free drink from a surly waitress, have a party with your friends, and roll the dice.
Love,
Me
One thing you may have noticed is that I am single. And that's OK.
It is. It's OK. I essentially feel that if I continue to be perennially single but feel truly happy, then it's OK. Don't get me wrong: I would LOVE to have woken up next to a guy this morning and every other morning that follows. But, if it doesn't work out, then I'd like to think I will continue to find happiness from within me.
I was at a house party last night. A lovely house party. And there were friends my age there. Some younger and some just a few years older. The good news (for me) was that several of them are single, too. I have gone to other parties and it's just couples, couples, couples. I get it. You put a ring on it. But it can really make me dread and then detest the party I'm at. Everyone is holding hands or staying right on top of their spouse. Why? I don't know. Maybe they're afraid she will run away (like Katie Holmes) if given a moment's freedom.
All I know is these parties make me feel like it is" Greg"the lone wolf" time. (And yes: I BLEEPING HATE NEW YEAR'S!!!)
In some ways, I do feel like I have a loner side. Which, to know me, is a bit shocking. On paper, I seem like an extrovert. But, I'm not. I don't like public speaking. I have huge insecurities of saying the wrong thing, and to make matters worse - I do that often. (Like the time when I made a new friend a ball game this week. She happened to be in the closest seat near me and we made small talk and laughed. I then told her she was brave bringing her three boys out to the game. She replied, "well ... one of them is my daughter.")
So, yeah, sometimes the loner track may not be a bad thing. I enjoy my quiet time. I also just enjoy literally quiet time. Some people don't know to appreciate quiet and their librarian lovers resent them until the day they die.
I, however, just enjoy being on my own sometimes. It took me a long time to get here. It didn't happen overnight.
I used to go crazy if I wasn't scheduled every night with some friend. I always had to have something going on. This weekend: I had 4 social obligations to go to and literally made me pause. "That's a lot," an internal warning system alerted. "I will have to drop one of them so I can have time for myself."
But - just as a test - and also because it's the end of the summer, I decided to try to do all 4 things. And I am on the last day and I am looking forward to today's party (where I will undoubtedly embarrass myself and/or say something hilarious and awkward.)
At last night's party, there were several beautiful women and men and like I said - they are single, too. We are all athletic and really fit. The men and women are straight. So, if this was the "Real World" House, guess who was the "diversity?" THIS GUY!
But, it made my head crazy. They're gorgeous and from what I have seen - also stable. They are funny, smart, have great jobs and are easy to talk with. People from the opposite sex should walking on hot coals to get to them. These people clearly are getting it on in some way with someone. They just can't be "single" single. So, I - of course! - asked everyone loudly, "WHO ARE YOU BLEEPING?" (For the sake of the blog, I used a naughtier word. But, I like to keep the blog pure and innocent. Wink!)
By the way, if game shows were really big on TV right now, I am sure there would be a show called, "Who Are You Bleeping?," and Regis Philbin would be hosting it. But, I digress.
My question made people undoubtedly blush, and the question had the force of a rubber ball. Someone lobbed it back to me. And, yes, dear readers, I can take the medicine I give out. I am a big girl and I can walk the walk. (I can seriously walk. Tyra Banks ain't so fierce to me!)
So, I told the recent story of someone I have had some dates with. It drew some sisterhood and laughs. Yet, people were still quiet about their lives. (Except one closer friend. She leaned in and whispered that she's got something on the horizon. Which is awesome!)
My point to all of this is: if you can't talk about it all, and laugh about it, then what's the point? Half the reason I will say yes to a date will be for the experience. At the very least, I think, I could learn something about the city, see a new restaurant or place, and have a memory. Dates allow us to become stronger, smarter and - in my case - funnier!
I am OK on my own, but I also don't want to be on my own forever necessarily. So, I take a chance and I go with it. But, don't be quiet about it. I understand some privacy is important, but roll the dice and talk about it, too. Sometimes the best way I have coped from a bad date was laughing about it with my friends.
Men come and go and even friends as you age can come and go, too. It is having the experience and then finding the humor that is really important. You have to be able to pick yourself up, have a chuckle and grab the dice again. It's Vegas, baby! You be on a winning streak, you may be on a losing streak. But, take a free drink from a surly waitress, have a party with your friends, and roll the dice.
Love,
Me
Sunday, August 19, 2012
OkCupid Is Just OK ... Online Dating Is Even Worse
I have been online dating for years. Thanks, Al Gore! You created the Internet and then some idiot thought we should meet people from it.
Well, we probably shouldn't meet people from it. It's a bad idea.
For one, they usually don't look like their picture. Or their age. Or even their father's age.
For two, they act like a computer. They have no bleepin' logic or reason. They certainly don't act like people, that's for sure. Even less so, when you decide to meet them! They lack all kinds of social skills. And not because they are stereotypical computer nerds. No, those days are gone. The men out there are computer savvy yet normal looking. They may wear glasses, but they probably don't play with their Star Wars toys. Having said that, though, they simply just don't know how to talk like a normal person. TALK TO ME! ASK ME A QUESTION!
Instead, it's like forcing things out of them as opposed to getting someone to just converse. I didn't realize online dating and asking questions would be like a criminal interrogation.
"WHERE ARE YOU FROM?"
"WHY DID YOU ROB THAT BANK?
"WHAT IS YOUR FAMILY LIKE?"
For three, they don't listen. They hear what they want to hear. When I said to one dater that I live far in Brooklyn and would prefer to meet somewhere half way between my house and his, my online counterpart suggested a bar down the street from his apartment. Evidently, one block from his house is "half way" from his place to Brooklyn. And guess what? IT ISN'T!
It's all very simple - shouldn't it be?
No - it isn't. In addition to worrying about my looks (as well as theirs), I have also have to worry about educating others. I have to be a master negotiator. I have to be a superior talk show host. I have to spin plates and juggle. Well, maybe not that, but you get my point.
In many ways, dating is exhausting (a topic I have discussed and will continue to discuss). But, doing it on the web is even more tiresome. You have to be a bigger detective. Is this person real? Safe? Attractive? Honest? Stable? Funny?
And guys on the web are stubborn. In person, everyone can be a bit more relatable. (God willing!) But, sitting miles apart and on a computer screen, guys can be even more distant. On purpose! They will not answer your latest email (even if they like you!) because they were "busy." It doesn't make sense, but online dating allows them to be distant and they embrace like a true man would.
"Work was C-razy," said one idiot.
"OMG, this week has been awful. Sup?," said one insane asylum resident.
And Sup is not a word! So, I am back to being an educator. Fantastic!
The truth is: I hate gay bars. I'm not a big fan. So, online dating is probably the more ideal option for me in this modern age. I will probably have to stick with it, if I continue on this "single, party of 1" path.
So, thanks Al Gore! Let's just hope I meet someone who talked better than you than the 2000 election. I really don't feel like another 8 years of Bush-speak.
Love,
Online Dater
Well, we probably shouldn't meet people from it. It's a bad idea.
For one, they usually don't look like their picture. Or their age. Or even their father's age.
For two, they act like a computer. They have no bleepin' logic or reason. They certainly don't act like people, that's for sure. Even less so, when you decide to meet them! They lack all kinds of social skills. And not because they are stereotypical computer nerds. No, those days are gone. The men out there are computer savvy yet normal looking. They may wear glasses, but they probably don't play with their Star Wars toys. Having said that, though, they simply just don't know how to talk like a normal person. TALK TO ME! ASK ME A QUESTION!
Instead, it's like forcing things out of them as opposed to getting someone to just converse. I didn't realize online dating and asking questions would be like a criminal interrogation.
"WHERE ARE YOU FROM?"
"WHY DID YOU ROB THAT BANK?
"WHAT IS YOUR FAMILY LIKE?"
For three, they don't listen. They hear what they want to hear. When I said to one dater that I live far in Brooklyn and would prefer to meet somewhere half way between my house and his, my online counterpart suggested a bar down the street from his apartment. Evidently, one block from his house is "half way" from his place to Brooklyn. And guess what? IT ISN'T!
It's all very simple - shouldn't it be?
No - it isn't. In addition to worrying about my looks (as well as theirs), I have also have to worry about educating others. I have to be a master negotiator. I have to be a superior talk show host. I have to spin plates and juggle. Well, maybe not that, but you get my point.
In many ways, dating is exhausting (a topic I have discussed and will continue to discuss). But, doing it on the web is even more tiresome. You have to be a bigger detective. Is this person real? Safe? Attractive? Honest? Stable? Funny?
And guys on the web are stubborn. In person, everyone can be a bit more relatable. (God willing!) But, sitting miles apart and on a computer screen, guys can be even more distant. On purpose! They will not answer your latest email (even if they like you!) because they were "busy." It doesn't make sense, but online dating allows them to be distant and they embrace like a true man would.
"Work was C-razy," said one idiot.
"OMG, this week has been awful. Sup?," said one insane asylum resident.
And Sup is not a word! So, I am back to being an educator. Fantastic!
The truth is: I hate gay bars. I'm not a big fan. So, online dating is probably the more ideal option for me in this modern age. I will probably have to stick with it, if I continue on this "single, party of 1" path.
So, thanks Al Gore! Let's just hope I meet someone who talked better than you than the 2000 election. I really don't feel like another 8 years of Bush-speak.
Love,
Online Dater
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