This is how it works-

Current mood: hopeful
Category: Romance and Relationships

When I was sixteen I had a very very brief relationship with the world of modeling. It consisted of a few car shows and *one* walk down a runway wearing a tuxedo. This was in Dallas, during my glorious and wonderful (and there is absolutely no sarcasm or irony in this statement) time in high school, and it was for a GLBT Community Center Fundraiser at the Arboretum. Chelsea and Geb may or may not remember it, but for two weeks leading up to it -
I was fuckin' Kate Moss.
Except that my mom was in the audience, and really, how lame is that?
I mean, she waved at me.

Anyway.

After the show, the arboretum became the site of the after-party and since the theme of the night was romance and gay marriage, they played some slow tunes for the happy couples in attendance. Beautiful stuff, too. As I sat at a table with a group of friends and my mother, a handsome stranger came up to the table and asked me to dance.
As I live and breath, Arnie is the first and only man to ever have asked me to slow dance. Most guys balk at the very idea of slow dancing, and must be dragged forcibly to tiles just so they can hold you between their wooden arms and look around self-consciously, and that sucks. But here he came and fulfilled one of my lifelong fantasies. It was a wonderful few minutes. I'd go so far as to say one of the most romantic moments of my life.
Things quickly went pear-shaped after my little dance-floor affair with Arnie. We never went anywhere cause I was sixteen and he was in completely 'nother age bracket. But shortly thereafter, for various reasons, my view on romance and all its trappings went from blissful to seriously in need of something therapy.

Still with me? Good, cause here's the payoff.
(Yeah kids, I'm thinkin' I'm done with the "woe-is-me" bit. At least for now.)

Last night, I went out with long-time friends and new-found friends together. We danced, made merry, gagged on the sub-par-even-when-gospel-house-WAS-popular music and generally had a ball.
And between drink two and drink three, as I talked comics with Forrest, Arnie appeared at the bar, beside me. It took a few minutes for us to put two and two together. But it happened. And the feeling was unlike anything I have felt in a long time.
It wasn't love, or the illusion of attraction; Not for either of us, I think (I think he was there with a guy), was this a "Before Sunset" kinda situation. What happened last night was that my present communed with my past and I experienced what can only be described as magic.
The feeling that I had during my only slow-dance was hope, and faith in the idea of a future unmarred by anger or cruelty or misunderstanding or inabilities to communicate.
I knew there was no such thing as perfection, but I secretly wished for it.

I allowed the combination of time and experience to fake me out and for the past ten years I have allowed a splinter of cynicism to fester within myself. And all the while, to assuage the pain, I called it "growing up," and I wore sly, knowing grins. I smoked cigarrettes and sneered at those who still had stars in their eyes. I replaced songs of love with songs of regret and anger on mixed tapes. After all, I thought, aren't they more real? More prevalent?

Last night, my sixteen year old self and I had a chat.
Turns out love songs are just as beautiful, and the tears they can bring are just as fiery as any song about heart break.
Turns out, "knowing grins" don't have to carry poison with them, 'cause at its best "knowing" includes understanding and embracing..
Turns out, any splinter can be extracted. No matter how deeply it's buried or how long.
Sometimes it just takes a bit of work.
But sometimes, it works itself out unexpectedly.

Currently listening : Bag Lady By Erykah Badu
Release date: By 12 October, 2000

Come Here You Little Golden Sexbomb!

The film I spent all last year sacrificing major hours of the prime of my youth to has just been nominated for a freaking OSCAR!
The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, one entire year of my life, possibly the most difficult year of my life, to be honest, has been nominated for best visual effects.
Aside from the obvious joy and pride for it being the Year of the Gay Cowboy, I am now extremely grateful and utterly thankful for the experience which, at times, I thought would be the death of me. Many 80+ hour work weeks, disgusting meals for 100+ picky people, copies, faxes, meetings, cannisters of film and midnight drives to Burbank and beyond have surely paid off. This is why this work ROCKS!
In the words of a billion folks before me, "just to be nominated is an honor!"
FUCKIN AWESOME!

Alright...

Current mood: disappointed
Category: Friends

Like La Lopez before me I have had ENOUGH!!!!

I have often told my friends and lovers that because of a youth spent trailing behind my mother in her nomadic wanderings I have been left with little to no tolerance for prolonged relationships of any kind. I am awkward in them, to say the least. At times this has become the cause of many dramatics between me and my friends. I think for and about myself and act out of selfishness. This has ALSO been the cause of many dramatics between me and my friends. I have tried to learn how to be a responsible friend for many years, and despite all that I am still human and destined to fuck up sometimes. Many times.

I am angry right now. And I take full responsibility for my complete past, forgotten, unknown, horribly remembered and everything besides. But when I try to erase all of the stupid, convoluted dramatics and do something real, something separate from my past, someone must remind me of it. And so I think, "Alright: you've got me pegged, motherfucker. I AM Satan and you just figured out all the prophecies were TRUE!"

Sometimes I feel so much that I don't know what I'm doing and to try and contain myself seems Herculean. I end up exploding. And then I end up regretful.

I don't care anymore. Right now I feel like my best efforts continue to hand me right back into the arms of my past mistakes. SO the only thing I can think to do is explode here, very visibly, and then implode ever so gently and lick my self-imposed wounds.

This sounds very dramatic, and so I guess I come back to myself again. And lots of people may be foolish enough to buy what I'm selling and think that nothin makes me happier than to be this trumped-up character I've created, all frantic happiness, innocence, tattoos, wisdom, venom and madness.....

But believe me, if I could be anyone other than myself, don't you think I would be?

Fuck. Even I don't know the answer to that one.

Candy Canes and Chestnuts and Popcorn on String

Current mood: grumpy
Category: Life
If you or anyone you know falls victim to these over-used, tired cliches, please arm yourself and protect your loved ones.
For these people are beyond help.
They've fallen prey to the Christmas spirit
And must be put down
Do not approach people with a twinkle in their eye, or those with a "peppermint mocha" in hand, consider them contageous and extremely dangerous
They're beyond salvation, and must be put down
People with shopping bags or dead trees either affixed to car roofs or ceilings of homes (them's some trendy bitches, TRENDY bitches!) should be reported to the authorities.
Equally dangerous are those who've chosen to affix a wreath to the bumper of their car or deigned to wear a "Santa Hat" until December 26th.
Since this type of infection reaches the highest levels of the government and even if it didn't, the government is pretty ineffectual right now anyway, please report people in the throes of this debilitating disease to..... Try your local commie-liberal HQ
On second thought, they are ALSO beyond help and must be put down
In general, anyone remotely enjoying themselves during this season should be considered suspect and immediately terminated
In the event this is impossible, please engage a wire tap and then let nature take its course.
Currently listening: Fake Plastic Trees
By Radiohead
Release date: 26 September, 2000

Bareback Mount Him...No really....I loved it.

The midnight screening at the arc light cinema in Hollywood was a tremendous milestone for me.

This film exhibits what people continually ask for from the movies today: originality.

Ang Lee took a difficult story and translated it into a fantastic film. The luminous landscapes coupled with the well-paced story give the movie a feeling of dimension and grandeur, while not overpowering the tremendous work of the actors.Heath Ledger, whom I previously thought of as a piece of eye-candy rarely well-utilized, really takes the seeds of talent he exhibited in Monster's Ball and allows them to come to fruition in Ennis Del Mar. His inner turmoil and inherently awkward nature are painful enough to watch; add in the explosively desirous and possibly dangerous character of jack Twist played by Jake Gyllenhaal and the near-tangible temperament of the 1960's and it's enough to make your heart break.

Every member of the supporting cast comes correct and makes this world a reality. Anne Hathaway is gorgeous (even beneath a country-fright-wig in a few scenes) and makes the most of each and every scene she has, taking Jake's charisma and meeting it wink for wink. Rounding out the film with the daring and emotive Michelle Williams we have a quartet of the most amazing young actors and actresses in Hollywood right now, and if they continues to make choices like this, I will follow them no matter where they go.

I was afraid that this movie might be yet another attempt by Hollywood to do something daring which resulted in clichés and let-downs. The surprising truth is that regardless of one's sexuality, this film is a beautiful example of that elusive thing: undying love.

I have a feeling this movie will be preaching to the choir, but I sincerely hope that others will give it a chance.

Fumbling toward insanity

Current mood: uh....duh....

Things are very very busy, and then there's the holidays, which is all I will say about them. I have friends I love, people I wish to see, emotions to deal with and I'm incredibly lucky. However, incredible luck is not compensatory for incredible loss.

I try to stay positive and upbeat, and then I feel like there's a little worm in the pit of my stomach that eats the fruits of my labors.

No my friends, there is no balm in Gilead.

And Sarah McLachlan is a dope.

I'm just saying......

P.S. I wanna get really shitty and dance.

Town and Country

I think I'm growing weary of this general area.
I'm an evolved city-boy. Not natural.
but cities aren't natural, so who cares.
Point being:
I LOVE THE CITY!
....usually.

Right now....not so much.

I wanna get out of the way of nighttime lights and gaze at stars and listen to QUIET.

soon, my friends, soon.

Sound Advice

Glowing meat alarms Australians



Australians have been told there is no need to panic after a recent "glow-in-the-dark pork chop" scare.
A caller to a Sydney radio talk show sparked fears of radioactive contamination in the meat supply.
The New South Wales Food Authority said the glow was caused by the harmless pseudomonas fluorescens bacteria.
Food authority head George Davey said he understood people would be "shocked" to see their meat glowing in the fridge but said the bacteria were safe.
"It is important to remember that the micro organism responsible for the glow is not known to cause food poisoning," he said.
The bacteria are naturally present in meat and fish but they multiply quickly if food is not stored at the correct temperature.
So the glowing can be a sign that the food is starting to go off and Mr Davey recommends consumers throw any luminous pork chops - or other cuts of meat - straight into the dustbin.
"Remember this simple advice - if it glows, throw it."

Thanks Mr. Davey!