Prop 8

I was discussing the Prop 8 decision with my childhood pastor last night. He was telling me about an old men's prayer group that has met weekly since the dawn of time. One of them asked the pastor what he'd do if a gay couple and their kid wanted to join the church. The pastor, knowing that this could be a hot-button issue, said "Well, I'd welcome them just like anybody else, and show them how to enroll their kid in Sunday School."

He waited for a long while as the old guys considered that, and then one said "Good. That's how it should be," and they all agreed.

Regarding his denomination's stance against gay marriage, the pastor said to me (and I quote): "That's BULLSHIT!"

hahaha! Love him.

this is a test

I'm testing to see whether I can email to my blog as a way to post.  I think I might post more often if I could do that.  We'll see!

its wonderful, but....

I've been dating a guy for a couple months now, and he's great. Cute, fun, smart, hard working, easy-going. For once he's a bit older than me, which is a welcome change. I love spending time with him. I love looking at him. I love kissing him. In short, I'm liking this a lot.

But for unknown reasons, I don't want to do more than kiss. I have no interest in seeing him naked. I have no interest in touching his junk. And so I consciously avoid situations where I might be expected to do that. I'd much rather come home after the date and take care of my own business.

Part of the problem is that I get bored of sexual partners quickly. Part of it is that I know I can sleep with much hotter guys if I want to. Part of it may be that he seems more into me than I am in him, so my low self esteem causes me to assume there's something wrong with him. It's not a fear of commitment (unless it's subconscious) since I do want a boyfriend, and I think he'd make a good one. It's not even a fear of monogamy, because he's very open to flexible arrangements.

WHAT DO I DO!?! I don't want to ruin a very promising relationship by not putting out. And it's not like he's unattractive. We did hook up once, back in the beginning, and it was just fine. He actually has a good body (very nice ass).

Do I just force myself to do it occasionally, and then both of us fool around on the side to get our other desires fulfilled? But I don't want to end up like the wife who lets her increasingly slovenly beer-swilling husband mount her once a month while she dreams about Brad Pitt, in order to keep him minimally satisfied! I want to want to rip his clothes off every chance I get. At least while we're still young and good looking. There is plenty of time for lackluster sex when we become undesirable.

Do I discuss it honestly with him? That doesn't seem like it would turn out well. Although honesty and open communication are key to a good relationship.

Do I just suggest threesomes for now, hoping that I become more interested in one-on-one as time progresses?

I need to think about this quickly, because I sense that he's going to insist on a DTR (defining the relationship talk) pretty soon, and I want to have my decisions made before that happens.

if you don't have a dream, how you gonna have a dream come true?

Do the theater queens among you recognize that? I'll let you figure it out. No googling.

It's so true, isn't it? I've become a big proponent lately of positive thinking and good vibrations and stuff. Not in a new-agey guru weird kinda way, but in a "well, it can't hurt, so why not be positive?" kinda way.

I think it's impossible to achieve your dreams if you're constantly visualizing failure and filled with dread. Why not visualize success, and fill yourself with hope? You'll automatically align your mind, and from there your actions, with the path that will take you where you want to go.

Of course, this philosophy is hard to reconcile with realism. And it's even harder to reconcile with risk-aversion. And I am extremely risk averse.

A few months ago, I was having dinner with a friend, and (because I was irritated with him for another reason) I attacked him for this very quality. Specifically, when he becomes interested in a boy, he goes WAY overboard. He thinks the guy really "gets" him, and that he has never felt a connection like this before. This could really be the one!

And then, after a while, reality sets in, and sometimes he gets hurt. As his friend, I see the pattern and provide the shoulder in the aftermath. But when I attacked him for it, he (quite justifiably) snapped back, "Well at least I try. At least I allow myself to feel something."

It stung, but within five minutes I realized he's right. I'm so risk averse, particularly in matters of the heart, that I never get as far as FEELING. I analyze the pros and cons, and since the cons have always outweighed the pros, I cut it off before there's any risk of getting hurt. Relationships can be painful, but if you don't take a risk, you'll never get what you want.

I do have a particular dream. More than anything, I want it to come true. I don't know how to get there, but the first step is admitting that it is my dream. I need to stop dwelling on the cons, and put the possibility of pain out of my mind. I need to just go for it. Otherwise, there's no possibility of my dream coming true.

What's your dream?

google is stupid

Google deleted my blog mistakenly today, but it's back.

PDA


I'm surprised to learn that PDA makes me uncomfortable. I didn't know that about myself, but I guess it's because I've never dated a guy who was so into it. But this guy I've been with the last couple weeks is ALL over me, ALL the time.

We went out to dinner the other night, and he held my hand on top of the table almost the whole time. He rubbed it so much it actually started to feel raw and painful. Just now we took a walk through the gayborhood, and his hand was on my ass or sneaking up under my t-shirt the whole time. He stopped and pulled me in for a kiss at least 10 times over the course of 30 minutes, and when we didn't stop for a kiss, he'd nibble on my ear as we were walking.

It's flattering, for sure. And I definitely like kissing him. I just feel like it's too much. Or, maybe I'm just worried that I'm not as sexual as he's going to want to be. I dunno. Anyway, we'll see.

anticipation

Hello boys and girls! It has been a long time since I was here! So long, in fact, that Blogger made me prove my identity and re-set my password. Good grief.

A lot has happened, but I'm not going to do a re-cap, because who really cares? I'm just going to jump back into what's on my mind.

I've decided I really like anticipation. It's fun to fool around with a guy, but it's more fun to flirt and play and want it. I've had three really good experiences with that lately.

My friend Brad and I planned a camping trip. His boyfriend (and my friend) Thomas couldn't come, so it was just the two of us. We suspected (and had even discussed in the past) that someday we'd probably end up in a threesome, just because we all find each other attractive, and why not? But we'd never gotten around to it.

After a long, hot, dusty day of camping, we had a few beers by the fire and decided we needed to shower before bed. We packed up our stuff and headed to the bathroom. There were two showers, but only one worked, so we had to take turns. The showers were in stalls, with a door that closed, but we didn't bother. We'd seen each other naked, but only in groups, and only in the dark (skinny dipping). Brad went first, and I sat on the bench that fronted the shower stalls, but off to the side. He knew I was sitting there, and he knew I could see him through the gap between the wall and the door. So he faced me most of the time, and got hard. As you may remember, I have a thing for hot guys in showers, so it was a great show. When it was my turn, he didn't even make the pretense of sitting off to the side. He just sat right in front of the stall and watched me. I tried to ignore him because I didn't want to get hard. It was chubby and long, though, which is maybe even better. ;) That evening in the tent was....tense. But we were good little boys. I would never hook up with Brad if I didn't have Thomas' blessing. Won't make that mistake again!

My friend David had a hard week of workouts, and came over to my house for dinner. Before we left (for Sur, if you're interested) his lower back was killing him, so he took his shirt off, laid down in my TV room, and attached some electrode machine he has to his lower back. I was wandering around trying not to look, but then decided "oh, fuck it." I sat cross legged behind his head, and started lightly massaging his scalp and running my fingers through his hair. He asked "why are you being so gentle?" So I gave him a good head/ear/upper neck massage. For some reason, there's something so erotic and intimate about giving a guy a head massage. Even straight guys touch each other's bodies (play-fighting, bro-hugs, sports), but it's pretty rare to run your hands through another guy's hair, or touch his ears/eyebrows/forehead. Hot.

It was silent, and the afternoon light was playing on his smooth muscular chest and abs, which were rising and falling as he breathed. At one point I was holding his head in my hands, using gravity to work my fingers into the tense area where the back of the head meets the neck. Because of my position, my face was inches above his. As I stared at his closed eyes, red lips and five o'clock shadow, I desperately wanted to kiss him. Instead, he hopped up and we went to dinner. We spent a lot more time together that night in his room with a friend of ours from China, so nothing more happened. And the next night too (another great meal, this time at Katsu-ya, and more time in his room with the same friend, watching a bootleg musical and drinking two fantastic bottles of wine). Alas, still nothing.

I offered to take my friend Joey to the airport for an early flight, so he suggested I sleep over to make it easier. I brought some pizza and we watched a movie with his roommate. Earlier in the day he'd bought me some frozen yogurt and put it in the freezer (and knew my favorites, which I though was sweet). We went to bed early, and I woke up first and took a shower. As I was getting dressed, I called to him to wake up. When I was done dressing, he was still there, so I went and rubbed his back. He groaned, turned away from me, stuck his foot out of the covers, and fell back asleep.

A few minutes later I kicked off my shoes, climbed onto the bed next to him, pulled the covers down a bit, and began rubbing his shoulders and back. He told me his pinky and ring finger on each hand were asleep, so I worked on his hands and forearms. He kicked the blanket off and made no move toward getting up, so I rubbed his lower back and legs. Eventually I made my way to his butt (through his white Joe Boxer boxer-briefs, unfortunately). Just as I was sure it was going to go further, he hopped up and started walking toward the bathroom. He clearly had a big old boner, and made no effort to hide it. After he pee'd, he came back out with a change of underwear. He faced away from me, pulled down the Joe Boxers, and looked back and grinned at me. He knew exactly what he was doing.

balls

I'm really proud of myself.

Last weekend I visited an old friend in New York. He, his sister and I went out for some pre-dinner drinks, and sat at the bar.

When we arrived, a shift change was going on, and I spotted a GORGEOUS guy enter the kitchen. He was dressed like one of the waiters, with the white shirt and tie, but he never came out to the front of the house. He was about 6 feet tall, fit, with silky brown hair over his forehead, big green eyes, and a beautiful smile framed by perfect red lips. I'd sneak glances back there, and he'd sneak some at me. We locked eyes a couple times, so there was no question what was going on. One time I looked up, and he was having a similar eye-lock with my friend. I elbowed my friend and said "I saw that", and we laughed. Now the game was on.

My friend and his sister are well-known in town, so everybody from the greeter to the manager were fawning over us, pouring free drinks and asking us to opine on their new appetizers. The reason I mention that is because it made it impossible for the waiter to approach us, or vice versa.

When it came time to leave, I purposely left my camera on the bar so that I could run back in, figuring that if my friend wasn't with me, none of the staff would pay me any attention. No such luck. Just as I turned around to head back in, the manager came running out with my camera. Blast!

I thought it was game over, but I figured "You know what, who cares whether I look stupid!? This isn't my town. I'm going back in there!" So I told my friend and his sister that I'm a big dummy and forgot something else, and ran back in. There were literally about a dozen staff members still standing there where we'd been sitting, and they all watched me from the moment I walked in the door. The manager, still in fawning mode, said "Can I help you with something?" and I said "No thanks!", walked right past him and the others, and into the kitchen.

I found the waiter, who looked startled to see me, passed him my card, said "Call us", smiled, and walked out. I ran back to my friends, and we headed off. About 15 minutes later, my friend said "DAMMIT!! I wish we'd had the guts to talk to that hot waiter!" I gave him a sly smile, and said, simply, "We did!" He looked puzzled, so I said "Why do you think I left my camera in there! I'm no dummy!" We all laughed, and that was it.

Until, about 5 minutes later, the waiter friended me on Facebook. He is a college student and a dancer, and was wondering what the two of us were doing that night....

Wheeee!!!
I have such an aversion to work pooping. Perhaps it's just a manifestation of my general reluctance to develop intimacy with anyone at work. Which I can't really explain. All through school, I thought it was important, and desirable, to become friends with my classmates outside of class. But as a working adult, I don't want to have anything to do with them from the moment I clock out.

So it irritates me when I'm work pooping, and somebody comes into the stall next to me. I do NOT want to hear you groaning. I don't want to smell the digested food waste coming out of your butt. I don't want to hear the sound of the elastic on your panties. I don't want to know that you tap your feet while pooping, or that you play with your phone. Most of all, I don't want to hear the sound of toilet paper scraping against your asshole hair. I just don't want to know that much about you. Poop somewhere else!

And just in case you're wondering, this also applies to the hot guys I work with. And it does not apply to public pooping in general. I'm not poop shy. This is just for work pooping.

Anyway, I'm drunk.

To follow up on some of the questions I received on my last post: yes, of course I was hard too. Yes, it was probably just one of those youthful sleep boners; he's only 18. No, I didn't take it further; I'm a lady! Yes, I think he knew what was going on; as soon as I touched his dick, his heart started beating really fast and he stopped breathing. Yes, we hung out again since then. We spent Saturday night together and baked cookies (among other things), but he didn't sleep over this time. Anyway, end of that story.

I'm gonna go make another drink.

Also, I'm over chatroulette. It's lame. It's 5 parts fat-guy-dick, 3 parts stupid-frat-guys-looking-for-boobs, 1 part groups-of-giggling-girls and 1 part people-who-click-next. My new addiction is manroulette. Much to my surprise, I have actually had some really fun conversations on there. It's still 5 parts dick, but at least most of the guys have hot bodies. And when you remove the frat guys and the giggling girls, that leaves a lot of guys who are actually there to chat. Just last night I talked to a closeted Mormon college student in Utah, and an adorable smiley Irishman. Wunderbar!

I just watched a movie called "Maurice". Hugh Grant was hot-as-fuck (until he grew that stupid mustache. I'm anti-facial hair, except tasteful masculine stubble). Also, it was a beautiful story, and makes me incredibly thankful to live in 21st century America, and not early 20th-century England (or 21st century Iran, for that matter). Also, why can't we have more tasteful male nudity in mainstream film? Scudder? Yes, please!

Speaking of film, did you know you can get Netflix through your Wii? Genius!

Anyway, as a new friend just said "you're a busy lady." And so I am. I'm off.

chat roulette

is genius.

Also, when you share a bed with a super hot "straight" friend for the first time and wake up to find your bodies intertwined face-to-face (as in, faces touching), and his dick is hard as a rock, is it safe to assume said friend is at least bi? Or was he just having a good dream?

Also, I have amazing willpower.

in which I say fuck a lot

NPR got me all kinds of riled up on the way to work today.  I suppose this is what happens when you get older and more opinionated, but so many players in the news irritate the fuck out of me.  Three in particular today:

The Catholic Church:  Ok, look, Bandito Benito.  Humans are sexual.  If you don't give men healthy outlets, they're gonna find unhealthy ones.  If you won't let them bone their wives, they're gonna want to bone somebody else.  If you tell them that's wrong, they're gonna do it in secret.  If they have to do it in secret, they're gonna choose somebody who won't spill the beans: somebody trusting, malleable and afraid.  They're gonna choose kids.  

Also, if you vilify homosexuals, they're gonna find a place to hide from you.  A place where they have a plausible (even laudable) excuse for not boning women.  A place where they're surrounded by other men.  A place where they are trusted and respected in a way they wouldn't be if they were open about who they are.  They're gonna become priests!  And then, just like any other man, they're gonna fall into the cycle in the previous paragraph, but it's gonna be boys instead of girls.  

Is anybody surprised the Catholic Church has a child-abuse scandal!?  I'm not.  Don't get me wrong...the celibacy policy is NOT an excuse.  These people are sick motherfuckers who deserve to be castrated and imprisoned.  No joke.  I don't care how hard your life has been, and how unfair the church may be.  You don't touch kids, no matter what.  But the church is exacerbating the problem.  If they'd wake up and actually be in the world, they wouldn't attract these people, and the sick ones might come forward and get help before it's too late.     

Republicans/Tea Bags (aka Douche Bags):  Regardless of whether you think universal health care is a good idea, GROW THE FUCK UP!  Obama is not a socialist any more than Bush was a fascist.  Death panels are not going to bury your grandma alive.  Insuring everyone may be expensive, but it's a lot cheaper than treating 30 million poor people in emergency rooms, and it's a whole lot cheaper than invading Iraq for no reason.  Democrats may be running roughshod over the Constitution by using parliamentary trickery to pass the bill, but you can't complain about it now after you happily did the same thing when you were in power.  Debate the actual merits of the bill, or shut the fuck up.  The American political system is all sorts of F.U.B.A.R.  

Israel:  Y'all know I had a Jew fetish.  And my brother-in-law and niece are Jewish.  So don't even start.  But seriously, why should American soldiers be dying in the desert fighting an enemy who thinks we're enabling Israel to be unreasonable WHILE ISRAEL IS BUSY BEING UNREASONABLE!?!?  If a pre-condition to peace is that you stop building settlements, STOP BUILDING FUCKING SETTLEMENTS!!  How hard is it to NOT send bulldozers and construction workers into somebody else's home?  If you need more apartments, build another fucking high-rise in Tel-Aviv!  

I understand that both sides are wrong.  VERY wrong.  It goes without saying that it is never acceptable to lob missiles into neighborhoods or blow up buses and pizza parlors.  This is a terribly complicated problem, and I'm over-simplifying it.  But if you want a good faith gesture to get talks started, GIVE ONE!  I expect Israel to take the high road in this situation.  Yes, some Palestinians are being totally unreasonable and criminal, but you're the ones with your own country, and money, and a military, and a US ally.  Grow up and be the bigger man.  Stop purposely antagonizing them!  You can't expect them to stop trying to kill you if you keep doing the one thing you know pisses them off the most.  It's like coming back day after day to hit the beehive with a bat.  You're gonna get stung, dumbshit!  You're never going to be able to reason with angry people, so stop making them angry!  

And just so you're not surprised, I'm telling you now that I'm going to delete any comment that calls me anti-semitic.  Debate the merits if you want, but don't go there.  That's why we can't have a rational conversation about this topic in America, and I just won't tolerate it.

And now that I've offended just about everybody, it's time to get to work :)
     

always a bridesmaid, never a bride

Something's gotta give.  I had it brought home to me again last night (in quite a rude way, which was unfortunate), that I am never more than second best. 

I have AMAZING friends, who I love, and who love me very much.  I am so thankful for them every day.  There are five to ten guys and girls with whom I am in weekly (if not daily) contact.  We have adventures and we laugh and we create.  We plan for the future and confide in each other and sometimes sleep together.  We are a bunch of musketeers, and life is fantastic.  Sometimes it makes me positively giddy to think about how lucky I am to be surrounded by so much love.  There are moments when I feel so close to them that I believe they will be there for me, forever.  I couldn't ask for better friends.

But at the end of the day, they each go home to their boyfriends (or whoever else they're infatuated with at the moment).  And if push came to shove, they'd each drop me if they had to.  No matter how much they love me, no matter how wonderful I am to them, no matter how much they appreciate me, I am always second choice.  And in each of their lives, I always will be.  Even if they consider me their best friend (and a couple of them do), I'm still just a friend.  I am not anybody's favorite person. 

So what do I do? 

If you've read this blog since the beginning, you'll know I have an amazing capacity to fool myself.  For years, this big old cock-hound convinced himself he wasn't even gay, and that mere friendship with the hot guys in my life was perfectly satisfying.  At the moment, I'm doing the same thing all over again: I'm fooling myself into believing that mere friendship with all these wonderful people is enough for me.  It's fulfilling, to be sure.  But not enough. 

The irony is, I can't even talk about this with anyone, because all the people I'd talk about it with are part of the problem. 

Do I continue investing all of this energy in them, the energy that they all put into their boyfriends and not into me?  Do I cut them loose, because this is ultimately a waste of time if my goal is to find lasting love?  I'm sure the answer is something in between.  But how do I find the correct path?

the meat missile mud bath

Well, ladies and gentlemen, I did it. A gentleman has finally gone up the down staircase, if you know what I mean. And you know what? Much to my surprise and amazement, I liked it. A lot. In fact, I can't think of much else, except what I'd like to do next time. I may be a lady in the street, but...

I was always so afraid, and now I can't really figure out what the big deal was. Sure, it takes a little getting used to. But it's so damn hot, and therefore so damn worth it!

And now, in honor of the occasion, I'd like to know your favorite euphemisms for this, Dr. Dobson's most terrifying mental image. Here are a few to get your creative juices flowing:


Lookin’ for Love in All the Wrong Places

When One-Eye Met Brown-Eye

Drilling for Oil on the Moon

Taking His Temp with the Meat Thermometer

Bogeying Hole Number Two


What are your favorites?

London Preppy

The wait is almost over! The mystery that is London Preppy shall soon be revealed to yours truly. He's coming to town for some other clearly less important reason, and he promises to hang out with me. And if he doesn't, I'll be devastated!! Is he really the son of a Greek tycoon? Is he actually into Bret Easton Ellis? Does he even really like Suede or Morrisey!? Does he wear the red bar over his eyes out in public!? Will he take his shirt off at the WeHo clubs while texting people and make everybody insecure?! Are those tattoos just the peel off kind!?!? I just can't WAIT to find out!

In other news, I'm hosting an Academy Award viewing party. Unless, of course, I get invited to the Vanity Fair party up the street, in which case everybody else can suck it and I'm going to hang out with Meryl.

Does anybody have any good suggestions for how to make the party good? I have a big screen TV in my den, but I also have this big-ass blank wall in my living room that is like 18 feet tall and 14 feet wide, and I kinda wanna project an appropriately big-ass screen onto it. I think that would be cool. What about party games? Or appropriate food? Does anybody have any good formats for a competition to guess the winners? Maybe I should rent one of those movie theater popcorn machines...

Anyway, send your ideas my way!