Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Are You a GAY BULLY?

It’s as if the word has just been birthed. On the minds of every American (at least every LGBTQ New Yorker….that’s the entire country right?) , the word “BULLY” is finally getting the attention it deserves. And rightfully so.

Sometimes, media sensationalism gets it right! They bring focus to the social issues that is more worthy than Miss Lohan’s substance abuse. They get it right when they decidedly talk about things I want to talk about….. ME.

Jokes aside, teen suicide is not to be taken lightly. Campaigns like “It Gets Better” are worthwhile and noble. The Trevor Project is next to none in their efforts to make sure kids know that it will be alright. We as adults have the forethought and developed sense to inform the next generation: You are worth it. It is okay to be different. Just hang tight, kiddo.

And before I go on the hunt for these “bullies”, I set myself off to define what “bullying” is….. wikipedia and GO!.....

“Bullying is a form of abuse. It involves repeated acts over time attempting to create or enforce one group or person's power over another group or person, thus an "imbalance of power".[2] The "imbalance of power" may be social power and/or physical power. The victim of bullying is sometimes referred to as a target.”

So, I prepared to defend myself against the evil bullies. I wore my tightest pair of jeans, my biggest “fuck you” face, and I readied myself to defend with my David Barton toned physique. Meanwhile I noticed a guy, a femme guy, wearing a blazer that was entirely too small and puke green. So I called across the street to recommend to her a good tailor and/or Salvation Army.

I went to the clubs night to night to celebrate my pride in being a homosexual and not afraid of said bullies. I somehow noticed through the eardrum bursting house music that the demographic of The Ritz has become predominantly Asian. I thought to myself, what is this, the Web. So I burst out on to the street and said, “Fuck this, I don’t do sticky rice!” Glad to say, even through my rage, I saw no bullies in sight.

I settled into the Galaxy diner where I noticed a lonely tweaked out gay spooning gravy onto a plate of cheese fries. I was jealous, I leaned over to perhaps ask him to share, but instead I said in a drunken Shakespearean stupor, “french fries a boyfriend does not make.”

Well nourished and satisfied that my Bully Hunter instincts needed rest, I took a cab home. Just me, the smelly cab driver I deliberately tried to wave off because of his beard, and my bully self.


Oh my God. I’m a bully. I’m a gay bully.


America’s Next Top Model. The fighting on Real Housewives. Shows like The A-List anything. All my beloved TV programming….. They have been programming me to be a pudgy judgy pants. DANGIT.

And where does it stem from? I can tell teenagers all day long that they are going to be okay and it’s okay to be different and yet I am soulless in my disregard to the adult LGBTQ community. Where do I get off?

Self-pity. Self-loathing. Self-something. INTERNAL COMMUNITY BULLYING. Who am I to tell anyone else not to judge the labels that I identify with when I do so myself. I can’t help but think how disappointed I am in myself….. And when I wake up in the morning, habitually run to the mirror and pinch my rolls, I know now I bully myself. And well, I probably deserve it.

I can keep going but you get the point. The solution is…… LOVE. Do what you love. Spend time with the people you love. Talk about things you love and less about the things you don’t.

This is a comedy piece with lots of fiction (particularly the part about David Barton physique…..) but I’ve learned a very real lesson. If not for you then for me alone:

***I will begin to focus on the things I agree with. I will speak more about how to make self improvements before I even think about others. I need to guard myself from the biggest bully of them all……ME.***

So as a resolution from this point forward, I hope to do something only I have control of: Taking one more bully off the radar. One me at a time.

Friday, March 19, 2010

FUTURE/FEARS: Not Everyday is a Parade...

At the age of 26, you think that every moment that you aren't doing something super exciting is wasted. Right? Every night of my youth is an opportunity to see friends, to write a poem, party down, run a marathon, go to the gym. Every day should be used to socialize, talk to everyone, stranger or not, read every book, and smell every rose.


Well for some....yes. But I need sleep. I love it. I need time to just sit on the couch and zone out. I need three days a week of nothingness. That's just how my body operates. Because only then can I really enjoy things when they really count.

Instead of smelling every rose, how about just one? Instead of reading every book, wouldn't it be better to re-read one you love and continue to find the nuance in the literature? I'm beginning to think this is becoming a metaphor for dating with ZERO intention of being so.

The point is: I was starting to get a little bored and hum drum about this NO DRINKING business. It's Friday night and I feel like I should be doing something. But then I's going to be fine. Not everyday is a Parade. And when it does pass by, I'll be wide awake.

Yesterday, I did get a chance to see Alice in Wonderland with Natalie! We both questioned.... when did the Mad Hatter become gay? Oh Johnny Depp and his lisp.

Carrot Top + Memoirs of a Geisha + David Copperfield (not the magician)

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

TEMPTATION: "If it were just til St. Patrick's Day...."

I don't remember last year's holiday. I vaguely remember making soda bread. Oh right, I threw a dinner party and saved myself from drinking green beer for 3 Buck Chuck.

St. Patrick's Day does not appeal to me as much as Thanksgiving for example. I do love a good soda bread and opt to eat cabbage without any holiday prompt.

I would like to take a moment to be jaded as bridge and tunnellers invade the subway systems and vent...Do they even know what they're celebrating about? Irish heritage? Besides the obvious patron St. Patrick, what was he the patron saint of?

But this would be an appropriate anniversary for my DRY challenge. If a reveler were to say that they would be celebrating a holiday solely heralding the arrival of another day of binge drinking, I would accept that answer as they are completely correct in 2010.

I walked through Chelsea to see a twinky Filipino boy sporting a green t-shirt that sported the logo, "Everyone loves an Irish Girl". He'll get laid no doubt, but not before I pass judgement!

Here's stage one! I'm angry I can't join in the evening's shenanigans. I am very tempted. The weekend hasn't even arrived!!!

It was beautiful day so JP and I made our way to the Highline Park for some vitamin D!

I did make it to the bar though with Jaime! She sneered at my diet coke ironically served in a Bass glass.

- Posted from my iPhone

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

NEW TOY: Kitchen Scale

Okay, so if it ticks, whizzes, whirs, recharges, uses battery, lights up, blinks, basically smarter than an average kindergartner in robot form.....I want it.

But this one has purpose (don't they all)! My new kitchen scale is going to keep me on task with my healthier eating patterns.

Thanks to WeightWatchers, which I highly endorse, I have been steadily losing that darn remaining 20 pounds. Some people have 5 but I've been battling losing weight for years. Now, arguably, many would say that I'm not fat anymore. But now I want an enviable body!

I've tried dieting, weight training, hiring a trainer, relentless cardio and nothing was working! Well why?! Because my diet was all messed up.

I believed that high protein diets were the way to go. How could chicken breast and ground turkey be fattening?! Well, they're not unless you're pounding away 5-6 pounds of it a day in addition to that bowl of brown rice and sauces! My cholesterol was down but my intake was much too high!

So this new gadget will help me on the road to success and it's even branded by my favorite TV show, the BIGGEST LOSER! No show on TV makes me hungrier than TBL, not even anything on the Food Network, I swear!

Monday, March 15, 2010

$$$ BETTER SPENT: Groceries

No, I am not a vegan. No, I don't buy anything organic (unless it's on sale below the price of non-organic). No, I wouldn't recycle unless the city made me. I'm trying not to drink, I'm not trying to be a Saint.

Perhaps that will all change one day.

The Chinese are very superstitious with numerology. So when I checked out of my new favorite grocery store, BEST YET MARKET, I was amazed to see that I spent $58 exactly. That number had been coming up a lot in my recent life. The last time I spent $58 exactly was at a bar called Su Casa last Wednesday night.....

***sidebar: I got so wasted that night, I fell off a wooden table ala Scarlett takes a tumble.***

What was I able to afford at Su Casa?
  • 5 Jack Daniels on the rocks
  • a 15% tip
What did I get at the grocery store?
  • 6 packages of ground turkey
  • 2 packages of chicken breast
  • 2 pasta sauces
  • 7 frozen Smart Ones meals
  • Ground Tumeric (for my healthy Halal Street Meat recipe to come)
  • LOTS MORE!!!!
That's about 2 weeks worth of meals! And I don't get a bruised ego/ass at the end of the night!

Note that I now have two new GO GREEN bags, but I wouldn't have taken them unless they were FREE. But now that I have them, I guess I'll try to use them

SOBERING MOMENT: Eight Months to say 'Goodbye"

Okay, I completely realize the last time I posted was July 19th. And in that time, I have consumed a lot of alcohol. I have tried nose candy. I now own a Christmas themed pair of bowls (not the fruit bearing kind). I have been the model son.

I have to be honest about my first attempts at quitting drinking and any kind of substance usage. I wasn't an alcoholic by any means (maybe 2 or 3 nights a week). I never purchased drugs in my life (only used it if it were at a party). I pretended I was quitting for health reasons, physical. But I learned it was purely because of mental health reasons.

I dated a Mormon boy. He dumped me. I was trying to impress him.

ATTEMPT #2: How this time will be DIFFERENT
  1. I'm not doing it to impress anyone. Not ANYONE.
  2. I'm actually thinking that it will help me be THINNER.
  3. I've quit my band, no more playing in bars.
  4. I'm on unemployment. No $$$ = No Drinkies.
and most importantly #5. I'm going to do it as a tribute to my father. My father was in remission for two years and well... it's back. I can't pronounce it, but it's cancer in his nose and surrounding areas. Last time he had it, radiation left him unable to taste anything. He was only able to distinguish food in four categories: hot, cold, soft, hard.

Needless to say, my father and I have had a tumultuous relationship over the years (gay son + Asian dad = drama = CLICHE). I love him very much but I still have a very hard time showing it. Especially now he has a doomist outlook on this new round of chemo and radiation, I can't be present. I can't bring myself to entertain the idea of losing my father. It's 60% selfish and 40% something else I can't yet name.

But as I think of nights where my mother loses sleep over my father's health issues, I feel 100% selfish. My mother needs to drive my father to chemo/radiation 5 days a week for the next 7 weeks, make him dinner, work her 50+hours, watch over him as he sleeps and monitor his health; How can I bring myself to have endless amounts of alcohol and party frivolously? I can barely return a phone call on most days.

I'm not a runner. I hate cardio. I don't run away from my problems. I just sit and hide in a cloud of burnt hemp, beer goggles on, and sit perfectly still. I pontificate and intellectualize the problems until they are surreal and emotionless. Then try to sleep it off.

Some may criticize that this blog is a way of not dealing with my family falling apart from illness and distance. I would say they were correct. But at least it's constructive.

I haven't had a drink in days, but I'm content with saying that today is Day One: Here's to you, Dad.

Sunday, July 19, 2009

DAY 13: HIT UP IKEA [Who doesn't love Swedish balls?]

Okay, first things first. I've been off the wagon for a couple of days. It sucks. Summer in NY without drinking could be totally un-doable, I'm thinking. But as most things that aren't good for you- they eventually make you sick.

I have had a headcold for a couple days now. But before I was forced into containment, I spent the day with Tim and Joey at IKEA. Now, they had to furnish a new apartment, but for me.... I just wanted some balls and some swede-cart riding.

For the record, if there was any kind of world Armegeddon ala 2012 , the best place to barricade yourself would be this Scandanavian haven.

Now the only thing that was missing from this experience... IKEA needs to start hiring authentic Swedes to help me find the perfect bed. Right, guys?

Badass Tim looking for a badass wardrobe.

Joey battles Swedish Pie.
A traditional Swedish dinner. Still no idea what a lingonberry is....

Tim: "This is what it was like being birth, I'm pretty sure"