Flibbertigibbet

*YAWN*

After working hard to break my caffeine addiction a couple of weeks ago, I wound up drinking a LOT of green tea this weekend, not knowing it has caffeine in it.

My friend acted like I was an idiot for not knowing that, but do understand that I was not allowed to drink black or green tea as a child, so my exposure to it is very limited. My only exposure until very recently was actually to herbal teas like chamomile and peppermint, which do not have caffeine.

So, anyway, a day later now, I am crashing. *YAWN*

Happy Tuesday!

Well, this weekend was a lot of fun. I went to the beach (I did not get sunburned, except in two or three places I mysteriously missed hitting with my subscreen), did some shopping, relaxed, and spent some fun times with my friends.

I did well on my diet last week, but this weekend was a challenge. I only had a few things that I wasn't supposed to eat and I think that's ok.

Now, I'm back in the city and feeling pretty well-rested and ready to get back into things.

Ten to Six

Ten minutes until six, the Friday before a long weekend. I'm leaving tonight to hit the beach in Delaware. I need to get home to pack and then I'm meeting my friend and piling into her mini cooper to listen to some tunes and drive on down.

But not yet. Why?

Client emergency.

*Sigh*

I'm working over time.

Totally harshing my mellow, dude.

Two Compliments on My Well Fit Body

This week has been a good week for me in terms of flattering my vanity. Apart from noticing several people checking me out -- including some women who apparently don't mind my blinding homosexuality -- I received two compliments from people who had noticed the improvement.

The first one came from someone I really don't know. When I lived in Hell's Kitchen, I used to work out at the NYSC on 62nd St. My trainer and I would meet twice a week in the morning before work and do our thing. Well, there was this lady, Joanna, I think, and her trainer who were there with us at the same time. Now and then we would chat with them or work out next to them.

Well, her trainer had to go on a trip, and he asked if my trainer could cover for him.

According to my trainer, she asked about me and wondered why she never sees us any more. He explained that since I moved, I've been working out at a gym further down town. She said she missed us. She also added that she was really impressed with my trainer because she had noticed the progress I had made. He said that she said I looked "hot."

I know, right?

Well, the second one came from my hair stylist. I went to get my haircut today and my stylist is a huggy guy, so upon saying hello, he gave me a hug. When he did he stepped back a little shocked and asked if I had been working out. I told him that I had and he led me to the chair to talk about what I wanted him to do with my cut.

After I was seated, he stood behind me and put his hands on my shoulders and then his eyes got big and he was like, "WOW! You've really been working hard!"

He went on at some length about it.

Later, during our chatting while he was cutting my hair, I made some flirtatious joke and he actually dropped his comb. And still later, he spent an inordinate amount of time brushing loose hair from my shirt.

For sexual assault, it was really quite minor and, again, I appreciate the compliment.

I'm really pleased to be seeing progress myself, but other people are also noticing and that's affirming, too.

I do fully expect to have clearly defined abs at some point this summer.

Good Morning, Sunshine!

After last night's rage, I had a very good night of sleep and I woke up on time, happy, and well-rested.

I started a diet on Tuesday. Not a diet to lose weight. People always think that the word "diet" means starving yourself or something, but "diet" is actually a very broad concept. When I say I started on a diet, I mean that I've started closely monitoring my food.

My objective is to have a high protein, low carb diet because I'm trying to get in shape for my 30th birthday in September which I will be spending in Miami on a beach.

The ages between 30 and 45 are, in my opinion, the most attractive years of a man's life. Young guys can be attractive, but I find myself uninterested in them because I associate youth with being uninteresting, impulsive, and generally more noisy than I care for people to be. So, I'm entering primetime and I'm really excited about it. I'll be in the best physical shape of my entire life by September.

So, I'm on this diet. But more than high protein and low carbs, I'm restricting my sodium (salt) and processed sugars in take, which means no sodas, Starbucks or whatever. I'm trying to stick to mostly unprocessed food and snacking on fruit and nuts. I'm also cutting out alcohol.

And this is day three of that and this morning I woke up, felt great, and had lots of energy in spite of being VERY sore from my workout on Tuesday.

Speaking of workouts, I've been pretty good about going to the gym in the morning before work for cardio and my trainer and I work out twice a week after work on weights. I told him about my September goal and he said that I will have to add another workout with weights to my routine for Saturdays.

Grrrrr...

I am in SUCH a foul mood right now.

First, we had this party after work at the office for a coworker who was moving on to a better opportunity. So, there I was enjoying myself when I decided to step back to my desk to check my email and start packing to leave. There were two emails in my inbox mentioning an error on a page. The page isn't live yet, so it's ok. It can wait until tomorrow.

But no sooner have I skimmed these emails, when one of the people who sent one of the emails comes over and says, "Hey! There's a problem with this page."

REALLY? It's a good thing you told me because I was just stricken with acute illiteracy. I'm writing this blog post, in fact, via a machine not very unlike the one Stephen Hawking uses.

So, not only did he send me an email about it, but he came over to tell me about it. That would piss me off even during business hours, but this was AFTER HOURS when everyone (but me) is standing around drinking beer and chit-chatting. Further, it wasn't even an emergency and he knows DAMN well that there's nothing I could do about it with all my developers either tipsy or at home.

Then, I was going to go to a party this evening to which I was invited by someone I don't know well. I asked a friend of mine to go with me explaining the situation and the fact that I didn't want to go alone. She demurred asking to be allowed to consider it a little longer. I pressed saying that if she didn't feel like it, then I would need to ask someone else. She waited until 10am this morning to tell me that she wouldn't attend the party.

I asked two other friends but they were busy and couldn't make it.

It didn't matter, though, because by the time I hoofed it uptown to this party, I quickly learned that the party was not happening. I called my acquaintance and he apologized for not notifying me.

Then, I walked behind every tourist, yokel, mouth-breather, ass-dragger, slow-poke, and dipshit in Manhattan on my way to the subway. Perfectly infuriated, I caused several people to apologize and scurry away with a glance from my death ray vision. Then, I climbed into the most crowded N train I'd ever been on at that time of evening where my personal space was invaded repeatedly and unnecessarily by this guy next to me who -- for reasons that aren't clear to anyone -- kept leaning backwards while reading his book. I was also repeatedly sodomized by this short, Latino woman's shopping bag which declined my invitation to coffee.

Then, I walked behind the same asshats from before to my apartment where I tripped going up the stairs.

But, you know what makes it ok?

Fleet Week is in full effect.

Holy Lack of Planning Batman!

I have this friend from college who came to stay with me for a rather long weekend. Originally, he was supposed to arrive Friday afternoon and leave today, Monday afternoon. Instead, he called me on Wednesday and asked if he could come early because he would be at my apartment in a couple of hours and would be otherwise homeless.

Long story on how that came about, which is pretty typical of the sorts of things this guy gets himself into, but I'm an accommodating guy and I hadn't seen him in a couple of years, so I was looking forward to the visit, so I readily assured him that it would be fine if he showed up early.

His entire story from how he got here to how he spent his time here is convoluted, sordid, and quite humorous, but I really kind of have to tell you in person for the full effect. So, let's skip to the end of his visit, which is now.

As I type this, I am waiting for him to finish packing. He was supposed to be finished packing two hours ago. Our "drop dead" time for departure in hopes of getting him to his plan in time was an hour ago.

Typical.

But I'm not worried about it because he's a big boy. I'll get him as far as the train to New Jersey -- he's flying out of Newark -- and send him on his way. It isn't important to ME that he makes his plane.

But I am amazed at his complete nonchalance about this sort of thing. And he's been this way for as long as I've known him.

Seriously, No God.

I just got back from a lunch date with this funny, attractive, successful fellow. The date was reasonably entertaining, but he showed up 15 minutes late and gave me the excuse that he was talking to his pastor.

*sigh*

I know there are people out there who believe in God and magic and all that crap, but how is it that there are so many? And how is it that so many GAY people believe in God after all the suffering in the name of said God?

It's ridiculous. Not just for those reasons, either. It's ridiculous for a whole host of other reasons.

I'm just irritated with how common it is here in the white-hot center of human civilization.

The Cool Thing About Cable

Even though the cable was off, my shows still got recorded.

Cool, right?

Eek!

This isn't the sort of thing I usually post about, but it's funny, so I thought I'd mention it.

This weekend, our cable got canceled because my roommate didn't pay the bill. I don't know how that sort of thing happens, you know, what with the bill coming in the mail and it being due the same time every month and all. But, whatever.

So, this morning he was at work and I sent him a text message. "Don't forget the cable."

He messaged me back saying, "I went by this morning and paid it. Is it still not on?"

It wasn't.

Anyway, he came in just a little bit ago and asked if it was on. My back was to my television set and I said, "I dunno. I haven't checked in a while." So, I picked up my remote and turned on the power to my teevee without looking.

I glanced at the cable box and the little message warning us that we hadn't paid was off. So, I was like, "Oh! It looks like it's on now."

And my roommate suddenly left my room.

I noted that there was no sound happening. I turned around and noticed that...

Um... Well...

I had been watching an adult movie and paused it when I was... umm... well, tired of watching the movie. Yes. And there on the screen frozen was...

Well, you don't need to know what exactly was on the screen. I will say this, though: that one guy has some really well-designed tattoos.

I couldn't help but burst out laughing. My roommate didn't acknowledge it, though. I'm still laughing about it.

Frenchie Update

If you're not familiar with who Frenchie is, go read my previous posts on him.

One of the things that I do not like about some people is their willingness to try to alleviate their own bad feelings by acting as if there is no cause for those bad feelings. I mean, if someone treats another someone badly, the first someone will often be very friendly to the second someone as if they both aren't aware of what happened in hopes of making the two of them feel better about the first's actions.

Why do this?

It would make ME feel better if he would simply say, "You know, I really wasn't that into you and I should have just come forth and said so. I'm sorry for withdrawing like I did."

I would say, "That's ok. Things like that happen. I probably could have just confronted you about it and put the issue to rest for both of us, rather than matching your strategy of not calling any more."

Because, really, I could have called him on it. That probably would have put this whole thing down. I didn't because I really didn't think our relationship warranted the extra effort. The message from him was clear. We weren't deeply involved-- in fact, we hadn't even reached the threshold of declaring the direction of our relationship and intentions for future commitment. So, it just wasn't serious enough to warrant a deep discussion on the matter.

Oh well. Spillt milk.

But last night, Frenchie sent me an email with a link to a funny YouTube video. On one of our dates, we watched SNL on television and laughed at one of the characters. It became a running joke between us. And he sent me a link to a YouTube video of that character.

Yeah, I get it. Hilarious.

But Double-yoo Tee Eff?

Anyway, I'm not responding to his note because I haven't anything to say about that. At this point, I'm not interested in dating him. I really just wish he'd stop contacting me and, if he does, don't pretend like we didn't date.

Did I Meet Ace or Gary?

I met a cute boy at a party this evening.

And by cute, I mean he's a total badass. He just happens to be kind of short, which is fine. Oh! And he's, like, 21 years old. That's not so fine. I hate to be considered an age-ist or anything like that, but I find older guys more attractive than younger guys. It's not so much a physical thing as a mental thing. I always think young guys are going to stir up trouble.

Well, this guy had me ignoring my generalizations about age and height and... pretty much everything.

Here's the problem: He's not gay.

Well, I think he's gay. He's very gay friendly and I'm sure he's a little more than just friendly, but I have a strict rule: I don't date non-gays.

I don't care what your flavor is. If it ain't gay, then I ain't got time for you.

And I think this guy will eventually come to the conclusion that he's gay. He's young. He has plenty of time.

That really doesn't help me at all, though.

There's a good chance that I will see him again soon. In spite of the rule, I find myself tempted to make a move. I could ask him if he's gay and just see what he says. I could just ask him out and see what he says.

But the rules are there for a reason. If he says he is gay, there's still the problem of his extremely young age. If he says he isn't gay, well, that's that. If he says he is willing to go out with me, we have the same issues.

I think I'm just going to leave this one alone. But it's still frustrating.

Update: Actually, I'm sure I'm going to leave this one alone. The rules are the rules for a reason.

First and Last Date

Several months ago, I received an email from Chemistry.com inviting me to join and find the love of my life. I decided to check it out to see how it was different from Match.com, its parent site.

It seemed alright. Nothing special. Just a different design as far as I could tell.

Well, it only matched me with one boy. Wonder of wonders he is my age. He's atheist (why are those so hard to find?) and his profile reflected a good sense of humor. He's cute. He has a real job i.e., not an actor, musician, or student. I don't think I've ever seen a better profile, actually.

So, I went to clickity-click and find out more and learned very quickly that Chemistry.com is distinct from Match.com in one important way: price.

I don't know if I've mentioned this before but I am stingy. I don't like paying for stuff like this. I mean, I can sort through a bunch of losers on gay.com and find perfectly nice people to chat with and, occasionally -- between explaining to people why I won't accept money for sex even if the would-be client is hot -- someone worth a date or two. And it is free.

I ate a can of cat food for $100. Just before we found out that Chinese people are taking revenge on us for our affinity for cheap sneakers by poisoning our pet food, even.

Rather than "stingy," let's say "thrifty."

But I really had to think about it because this boy looked to be cute as a button.

Well, that was several months ago and the other night, I was being thrifty on gay.com chatting with perverts and generally eroding my good faith in humanity by actually interacting with humanity ("free" isn't without its risks) when I got an instant message from -- you guessed it -- the Chemistry.com boy.

We chatted and it was fun. We buddy listed one another. We friended on MySpace. We agreed to meet for drinks.

Here's the catch: Boy is moving to Las Vegas in a week. Moving. Not just visiting.

Well, apart from being thrifty, one of my other traits is a near-foolish optimism about people and the general course of life. That is to say, I tend to think things will work themselves out.

I'm just waiting to be the perfect victim of some horrible crime. You'll see me on the news with curlers in my hair, a look of shock on my face, and a large blurry spot over my naughty bits. Watch for it. I'll YouTube it if someone can tell me how to do that.

Anyway, even though I knew he's moving, I agreed to meet up with him for dinner.

He is cute. Not exactly the sort I usually go for, but still attractive.

He is funny, although I think his nerves got the best of him and he was trying too hard. People react to stress in different ways. I tend to get quiet. He, apparently, becomes a chatterbox. I don't mind, that.

After a bit, we settled into a good conversational pattern. We laughed and carried on a bit. It was good.

Even if he weren't moving away, I don't think it was exactly a love connection.

For starters, he invited me back to his place. You might be thinking, "Score!" But I was thinking, "Those perverts on gay.com are right. I do look like a prostitute."

You'd think that moment would be both the climax and the end of the date and this story, but it's not.

When I declined his invitation to his apartment, he asked me to stay out a bit longer and go get a couple of drinks with him. I agreed since it was still pretty early -- although it was actually pretty late with it being a school night and all -- and I was enjoying myself.

So, we went and had a couple of drinks and continued our repartee and flirtations. And then the time came for me to head back over the river and get to bed. We chatted while we walked to the corner where we had to part ways and bid our adieus. I gave him a hug and thanked him for an enjoyable evening.

He asked, "Is that all we're going to do with this?"

I laughed, "What more is there to do?" I found the question a bit ridiculous. We're both fully aware of the fact that he's moving three quarters of the way across the continent in a few days. I couldn't imagine what more he could reasonably want.

Now, before you sniff and suggest I am naive, I will point out that rutting about like fevered animals is an option for some, but it isn't for me. I won't even consider making the beast with two backs and two horns with someone I've only just met and I am extending the benefit of the doubt to everyone else by assuming you -- and he -- would not regard it as a serious course of action in this context.

Well, the next day, he IMed me and the conversation was stilted and awkward. I couldn't think why, but I also couldn't pay attention to it because I was working. After a bit of chatter, he came down to the point.

"So, we hugged."
"Is that a bad thing?"
"A kiss is better."

The dude wanted me to kiss him and apparently he felt snubbed by my hug.

Well, I didn't kiss him because I didn't want to give him the impression that I intended more affection than I do. Basically, I didn't want to kiss him. Not because he isn't attractive and not because I didn't enjoy myself. But apart from the simple fact that I didn't feel romantically inclined toward him enough to make the move, I am also completely conscious of the fact that he's moving. It would be overhasty and foolish, I think, to launch a romance that is going to be thrown away or put on indefinite hiatus in just a few days.

I don't think "flings" are all that cool and I'm at a point in my life right now where I find sex too easy and therefore boring to pursue or even accept when offered outside of the potential for a serious relationship.

Perhaps I'm out of place in this city that is crawling with beautiful, gay men, but that's a possibility I'm willing to accept. But I'm not willing to ignore the obvious for the sake of someone else's ego.

Where I Be At

I just realized I haven't posted anything here in a while, so you're probably wondering what the hell is going on.

Well, not much. A lot.

I decided on Monday that I need to launch my campaign to find a new job. It's a beautiful plan that will require a lot of hard work. I expect it to occupy a lot of my free time over the next few months.

My roommate has launched into another remodeling plan in our apartment, so at least a few days are going to be spent working with him on that. (Although, he really didn't consult with me about my availability before starting.)

Work has been good. It's been busy, which is good. But I am realizing that it's not going to get any closer to what I want to be doing and I need to get out there already and get down to what I want to do.

Working out has been going the same as usual. It's good. My trainer is constantly kicking my butt. I started doing cardio in the mornings before work with a friend and we've been at it for about a month now. (She says five weeks, but I really don't think it's been that long.) And it's paying off. I'm seeing some better muscle tone and my strength continues to grow slowly but surely. I'll post some pictures another time when I get time.

This past weekend, I saw Spiderman 3. It was mediocre at best and it was also long. 2 hours and 20 minutes. There were too many villains and the drama was weak. At one point, this little girl behind me sighed loudly and the groaned, "Not the Sandman AGAIN." I almost hugged her.

Immediately after the movie, I hopped into a cab and met some friends. We rented a car and drove to Philadelphia to see Amy Winehouse in concert at the Electric Factory. The space was cool, but the sound wasn't great at all. The crowd was a weird mix of people, which it to be expected, I suppose.

Some skrawny Brit homo named Phillip Wolf or something opened for her. I wasn't into his music and he was the vision of a gay fool wearing shorts so tight that I could clearly see the outline of his penis the whole time. Every one commented on this fact.

Amy's set was short - I'd guess it was about 9 or 10 songs, but I could be wrong - and she was drunk by the time she got on stage. Again, no surprises there. She continued to drink the rest of the time on stage and by the end of it her crazy accent combined with the bad sound and the drinking made her utterly unintelligible.

But I had fun making the little road trip with the boys.

In other news, I've been tossing around a business idea with a friend of mine. A t-shirt company. Who doesn't have one of those? We'll see how that goes. I will, of course, be pimping out t-shirts on this site when and if the time comes.

Romance is dead. It's not dead, really. I find myself actually in a happy state of both wanting to meet someone special that I can dote on and unwilling to tolerate any bullshit. The single life suits me. I am predicting many months of dateless weekends at the moment and that isn't a bad thing.

So, that's about the sum of it.

The weather is getting nice here in NYC. I hope to get outdoors and spend some time playing in the dirt this season.