The New Year

The New Year has passed and I am trying to help people whom I barely know out. It's a chance I am trying to give. The new year weekend has passed slowly and I await tomorrow when I call my temp agency. For some mundane assignment that will take up 10 to 12 hours of my day.

With the passing of that last job opportunity and the new decade, I have felt grateful to just do what I am doing. The dullest work an American can imagine. That way I'm some unsung Americana Hero. I'm doing what it takes to get by. Years can pass so quickly when you're doing nothing. Then next thing you know you've been doing nothing for years but living contently.

In other news Bumble is going to get his balls cut off soon. He's being a little to feisty for his own good. I look at him and often wonder how I ever decided I wanted to control something else other than my life. I can't throw this thing out when I get over it. Yet, I know have a companion who keeps me home.

The New Year's Eve was pleasant and spent with the whom I am currently giving my heart to. We went to lunch at a McDonald's (but not after searching for a decent place to be open). Then went to wander around the entire Brooklyn Museum.

There was a brief resting period where we went to dinner that had endless champagne. 2010 started there. Then we went to a party and I watched people flit about. Followed to another party where I flitted about. Then lastly to a warehouse affair, which was intense and crazy. The fact that it was only 20 blocks away from my apartment was even more astounding.

Ushering in a New Decade. . .

It's early on New Year's Eve day. I'm listening to Taylor Mac singing songs and thinking back on the year and looking to the future. In 2010, I will look for a job. I've lost and regained motivation, but now it's with a deep skepticism.

Reading Maya Angelou has been good for my soul. Inspiring to read about a woman determined, but she fell so many times. Ups and downs to the extreme. She went along trying. It inspires me to try. Even though times are different. She always wanted a second son named Iguana. So I believe that I am Maya Angelou's long lost son. We have so many similar feelings.

My resolution is to have a job. A simple request, that has proven so difficult and unfair. I will persevere and do what I must do. As Maya's mother used to say, "It's it's worth it, then it's worth working for." Something along those lines. . .

I accomplished my soul flushing this year. I found a doctor. I temped. I found therapy. I graduated. I got a kitten and a boyfriend. This has been a productive year indeed. It's the small rewards that make life worth working for.

In The New Year

Oh the new decade is almost upon us. It's the end of the tens and into the teens. A Depression takes time to begin, but once it's started we'll all look back at 2009 as the starting point. I spent two and a half hours in an office today, going through trials that most normal people will never experience. Seeing the people who live in the lowest of the low already. Knowing that I could be one of the few right now, but perhaps soon enough, there will be more.

I have one more day in the apartment until I return Upstate through Sunday. Oh holiday of holidays. Escape? Hardly. Reminder of failures? Possibly. I will return to a temporary job and then more in between jobs. With the New Year I hope for new jobs, that last and are worth working for. I ask for stability as it's been happening, with perhaps a little less worry. These are optimistic requests. I hope they are granted and not made difficult.

In the Depression, was I depressed? Nowhere, near. I meant a big financier. . . and I'm here!

A Job Is A Job Is A Job

The world is working out of the ordinary these days. It's playing a fun little game with me. Showing my influence on the world. Today's example is simple, but fun one.

I was talking with my friend about needing to go out and get a job. I got all bundled up and left the apartment. I went down to the train and realized I just missed the N Train. I took that as a sign (for the things I need to go, I can always accomplish tomorrow) and returned to the apartment. I began the conversation with my friend again. He then offered to pay me $10- an hour to clean up a warehouse full of costume junk. Of course I readily agreed.

It's a job and a job is a job is a job. Sure beats working in an office at least.

Here is what I looked like on New Year's Eve:

Yes, that face can attract men.

Enter The Documentarist

It's New Years Eve and only moments after 2009 rolls in I am making out with a boy. I didn't foresee this happening, not in the least. We all got dressed up before we left the house and I was so unaware that I was going to be courted. I had my friend give me a Black-Eye because it seemed what needed to be done at the time.

We arrived at the club and I pranced off, looking around for something fun to do. When I arrived back at the sitting area that was mine, The Documentarist, entered the scene. I knew him from Manhunt back in the day. Wed\ never hooked up because I was going through a lot of shit at the time and he is my age, it unnerves me to be interested in someone on my playing field.

Our eyes met. His piercing and mine glazed over. We'd been talking on manhunt, on and off, for about two years. We have a little knowledge of each other's lives, but nothing more than the basics. Cock size, HIV Status, etc.

I smiled at him and he whispered to me, "What are you on?" I rattled off a list of letters from the alphabet and he seemed nonchalant about it all. I think that was the moment I knew he was mine for taking.

I did not necessarily plot it out. I simply decided to dance with my shirt off, that is all, nothing wrong with that. Next thing I know we were in the bathroom kissing and then on the dance floor making out. He told me he'd have met me sooner if he had seen my smile before now. He has a smooth way with words. He also added, "You know you're coming home with me, so I can tie you up and not let you go?" I swear, my heart melted, just a little.

I was taken by his humor and mannerisms. He's a stout guy (maybe a little chubby), is Israeli and has a dark complexion. He always has stubble, smokes left-handed cigarettes and is covered with Keith Harring Tattoos. He is a Scorpio and has a huge sexual appetite.

He was smitten with my good looks and kept telling me how cute I am. After a little while, we finally decided to leave. We arrived at his apartment around 4 am and didn't go to bed until 6:30 am. We slept until about 2 PM and then continued to mess around and talk. He made me breakfast and I continued to turn him on. There was discussion of dating and other issues of monogamy. It moved so fast, I've never felt so attracted to someone before.

I've arrived home and wondrously, we have set a date for tomorrow. I read in Gay Love Signs that Cancer & Scorpio go together well. Exceedingly well, actually. It's already accurately called out how our first meeting would be.

"Your first sexual encounter could take place almost anywhere; at the baths, in the back of a truck or behind the locked door at his office, depending upon the circumstances under which you meet."

The book is surprisingly accurate. I left his apartment and began to doubt myself. He seems like a worthy thing to try for and the cards are already in my favor. I read the book and it addressed this issue right off the bat!

Scorpio men are sexuality incarnate. When you first meet you see it in his eyes that are deep-set and fixed in their gaze. When he makes eye contact, this man is not teasing. He doesn't flirty because he realizes that sex is more than a game. . .Your first instinct is to run away, but the promise of such intense sexuality and the challenge of coping with his power combine to force you to surrender.

You feel like you are jumping feet first into a deep pool of dark water, giving yourself up to a mystical experience that could lead you either to heaven or hell. After your first sexual encounter with a Scorpio man, you may feel that you don't care whether it's angels or devils as long as you can spend eternity with him as your lover.

It's very interesting all of it. It sounds promising and though it's not the cold heard facts, it's nice to have a perspective into the situation. I trust the ideas of what to look out for, since I find myself very Cancer-like.

Now what's tricky and I figure I may as well be honest with him. I have my LA Lover staying with me apparently from the 1st to the 3rd. He must've figured something was up today, because I didn't call him until I got home around 6:30. He is sick. Oh it's such divine intervention! Only the first day into Which is good because I have a hickey.

Hurrah. Final Entry of 2008.

Afternoon bus ride home from Upstate, NY. As the years progress the idea of being born and raised in the town known as Burnt Hills and growing up in the family that I once considered my own. It had become more allegorical than I ever intended it to be. I have two hours to get this all straight, I may not need them. I have allotted the trip to put my thoughts in order. Join me, won’t you?

The worse part is starting at the beginning, the task at hand seems to daunting. While I was home a friend, that boy, the young religious one, told me how sorry he felt about my reaction to visiting home. Is that how life is these days? The blessed pity the impious? He felt sorry that my trips home don’t prove restful and that’s what a trip home is supposed to do. Is it? Really?

My mother and father, I love. My dad recently took a big step in a good direction. The whole of it was strange. He made a snide comment to my grandparents about how I did nothing when I was home. I let my voice raise, but I felt it wasn’t worth it. Everyone here is at their wit’s end.

My dad and I went to see a movie after this indiscretion. He decided to do his talk, for which I have learned means: sit there and listen. I compare it to a lecture in college. He’s not necessarily asking for my opinion in anything. He just wishes to lay the cards out. He complimented me, he told me truths about life.

He talked of my mother, his wife, as I’ve never heard it before. There seemed to be an eagerness in his voice. A prayer that I would just listen and not take anything at offense. I performed to my highest ability. He was being open and honest with me. When he told me how my mother threatens to leave him constantly, I could not respond.

Both my parents want me to succeed in life. Do I enjoy the fact that they both think I’m spoiled? Not necessarily, but they both believe I was. I was spoiled as a kid, I worked for the good grades while my brother slipped by. I always tried to appease their wishes, when I knew how easy it was to break the rules. I am trying to be the best son I can be. I guess I expected something in return.

Both my parents are amazed at how I’ve gotten by. They only know the censored for TV version, which tends to make life a little more difficult. I’m figuring all that out as we go along. When I am cornered with my mother in the car and discussions move from point A to B and then suddenly to point G. That much is my fault because I allow myself to go there. I can’t get frustrated at her for not understanding.

A year ago, I went to China. A year ago, I felt invincible. A year ago, I thought life owed me for everything.

My entire nine days home was focused on my Drug Addict/Alcoholic/Mess of an Aunt. I’ve never thought my family would turn into one of those families. We harbor this wraith in the house while everyone goes on pretending she’s necessary to the scenery. People speak openly about her impending funeral and I wish I could tell them what is really on my mind. True the woman has been awful in her recovery, but why do we entertain her drunken wants and needs? I learned tt’s not in my power to make choices on that, just to watch as she wastes away. Then that day when she’s gone, we will all wash our hands of the issues? Will we? Can we ever just forget that?

My mother’s boredom, her restlessness, has become an issue that drives me slightly mad. I found myself going off onto more personal issues because she argues about the littlest things. I left the ice cream out on the counter to long. Some of my high school friends I invite over are too loud. Why do you hate Upstate, NY? I have such an anger problem, but I’m only twenty-three. Whatever will we do about my aunt? (Keeping in mind this last topic was brought up about twice a day for nine days.)

She is so terribly bored and thus has become a creature of habit. She doesn’t read or follow anything, other than TV. She obsesses over these little things, but can’t admit that. Yet, there is nothing wrong in reminding me of my eccentricities. I guess I am used to it.

I return home, nine days later, knowing that everyone in the family now sees my depression. Notices my sadness, as if I wear it on my sleeve and they are concerned. I wonder if I walk by bushes and they don’t wilt. They understand the world is in awry, I am jobless, poor and stressed. They want to be there for me, which is reassuring.

So I need to be proactive and look for a job, if one exists. I need to better myself as a person, because the damages can be repaired. I need to be ceremonious and allow the New Years of 2009 to be a transition. Of energies, goals, wishes and happiness.

A year ago on New Years I blacked out in China. Drunk on too much rice wine. 2008 came without my approval and I believe that something happened. A wire crossed and things became blurry.

It’s only been a year, people expected so much improvement in only a year. People can’t see time how I see time. That’s their folly.

A Faggot Grows China - Part three

I would begin with New Years Eve/Day as that is where I left off, but unfortunately. For the first time in my life I drank too much. I mean TOO much. For the first time in my life I blacked out, which is obviously not a good thing. I am slightly ashamed, luckily my roommate carried me back to my room and put me to bed.

I didn't even celebrate New Years. There's about 2.5 hours of my life that I have no idea where it went. I have a bruise on my back thigh, hmmmm. I don't plan on being that drunk ever again. I am going to slap my wrists and just be happy I'm still alive and with everything intact.

I also paid for it the next day when I was puking for literally 24 hours. Just throwing up constantly, I couldn't keep any food down. We went to some interesting places, but I truly couldn't enjoy them.

Now we are finally in Nanjing, our main city for the trip. We start classes and I'm trying to figure out how it's working, because the teacher is very lax, but I know I need to do the work. I always have troubles adjusting to new settings.

I enjoy the hotel though, and the city seems nice. Once I figure out the laundry and food situation, I'll be a-okay. I am going to try and run in the park tomorrow. We shall see how that goes.

Otherwise, things have been pretty good. Livejournal won't let me in, thanks to China's censoring laws. Actually, I can't see any blogs, all I can do is post.

Before class I am going to look for gay bars in Nanjing and Hong Kong...I need to go at least once.