Ain't No Hummus in Harlan

Lincoln knew what he was doing.

2011-09-12T15:20:00.000-07:00

I shaved my beard off today.

This happens about once a year and always sort of sporadically. It’s usually because of a show/role/performance but this year it was more of a check in to see “how things were going”. I first grew my facial hair in to give myself a bit of a false definition to my chin line which for many years was not very well defined (read: nonexistent). After losing a significant amount of weight in the past year I thought it might be something to check in on to see if any of my chins had disappeared along with the other weight.

Thankfully they had done just that and I now only have one real chin rather than multiple chins all sloughed together on my neck. Now, my face is less an amorphous blob and more an actual face. Hooray for actual face.

Also, I have a bit of a confession. I’ve started putting minoxidyl (the main ingredient in rogaine) in my beard to try and fill it out a bit. Vain? Absolutely. I have always had a lot of my self image tied up in my facial hair. My beard has been a bit patchy in the past and I’ve had a couple spots where things didn’t quite connect (bridge between my moustache and goatee, sideburns on my left side, couple of larger patches on the right side) that have always bothered me. I’ve always had to grow my beard out quite a bit to mask these bearded imperfections. I’m jealous of guys who have genetically lucked into beards like this:

Perfect coverage. Full. Thick. Amazing.

Or this:

Football beard. *grunt*

Or definitely this:

Photo selected only to show beard fullness and for no other reason...*melt*

Lucky bearded bastards all of you. Thankfully I can grow enough facial hair for it to look right but not as much as I would want if I had my druthers.

When I was in college one of the running jokes was to give me rogaine as a present or gag gift because I was quite clearly losing my hair on the top of my head (monk’s hat style). After the obvious hilarity ensued from the initial gift I did actually use the bottles they would give me. Like they always say in the commercials/warnings the effects of Rogaine will go away when you stop using Rogaine. So while sometimes it would show some extra hair growth on the top of my head, it would go away after I ran out of the bottle. (I was a college student so I couldn’t afford to buy anymore either.) I would always apply as directed to the top of my head then it would leave some residue on my finger tips so I would rub that on the largest patchy spot under one of my 4 chins. This grew in amazingly and even after I stopped using Rogaine, it stayed on like a champ. My oval beard champion spot.

This has always made me think dreamily that maybe one day I too could have a beard like these lumberjacks. I too could posses facial hair deserving of admiration and jealousy. Little ole Strother could have a beard that could take any other beard in a cage match of beards. (Thanks “Title of Show”) I found a good batch of generic minoxodil on sale on Amazon and decided to pounce. I have now been using one bottle for the past month or so and have definitely seen some improvement. The shave was a way to take my face back to zero so I could more closely monitory my progress. It’s a lot easier to see hair follicles popping up when the beard is short/nonexistent.

Why all this devotion to facial hair? Why such a strong desire to have a thick beard? Well, it’s what I’m attracted to and with a bit of an “I’d fuck me” attitude, I want to have that same thing.

When I was in high school I grew facial hair to cover my chins and also to somehow assert my masculinity. In my tiny little small town mind, who could suspect a guy with a beard of being gay!? It just didn’t seem like it could exist in the world. (Thank God I was wrong about that.) I held on to facial hair tightly throughout high school to the point of refusing to shave at the cost of missing a performance with my choir because our director “didn’t want anyone to think I was a drug dealer”. I even came up with an elaborate hide utilizing some of Ginger’s concealer and some clear packing tape. While it fooled my director from a distance, he still refused to let me participate in the show…bastard.

My facial hair remained a huge part of who I was even after I cut off all my shoulder length hair (which was the right choice). I always feel kind of naked without at least some hair on my chinny chin chin. It's colder without it for sure because all the skin under there is not used to braving the elements. All through college and all post college I've kept my face adorned in some form of hair so that's why a shave gets such an extended post.

I just think I look better with some facial hair. I used to wear it to hide what was underneath but now that I'm happier with all that, I wear it to enhance what's underneath. I don't look as ridiculous without facial hair as I used to but it's still not how I want to look. I used to try and hole up in my room until my facial hair grew back when I shaved, now I'm no longer at that point and I don't hate it with the same fervor. As the beard comes in a bit more I'm even finding myself happy with just some stubble, but something has to be there.

And for those who care to know, it's working. The patches get smaller and the stache gets ever closer to connecting. It won't be long before I can actually rock the elusive "monkey tail" style in all it's glory.

Christ Blogging is Hard

2011-09-12T14:24:00.000-07:00

Jesus. I did such a good job there for a little bit.

Apparently a hurricane and earthquake are still not motivating enough to blog about. Long story short they were both anti climactic and boring...at least here in DC. I've had all sorts of "experiences" since the last post and I've just been zapped energy wise. Also, when you fall so far behind the mountain of updates you have to do looks so daunting that you say "ahh fuck that" more often than not. I'm going to spend the next couple of hours catching up...sort of. So I am going to grant myself amnesty from all the posts before and try and catch up a little but not kill myself over it and start anew.

Or I might spend 15 minutes trying to make this damn thing in Gimp. Writing with a track pad is hard.

Maybe a daily recap is a bit much to ask. Still a good goal to aim for. It's probably better to expect 2-4 updates a week as far as real posts go. Maybe that'll stick...

...probably not.

Keep on dancin' till the song ends...or turn it off before it gets that far.

2011-08-31T09:35:00.000-07:00

Being one of the gays I have a small (not-so) secret place for little miss B Spears in my heart. She is a skanky white trash hot mess but lord love her little heart I like her. Or I usually do. Her new CD is just awful and I have absolutely ZERO standard for her. Does the song make me wiggle? If the answer is yes then I consider it a win for Britney. This cd blows.

Most of the songs are boring and repetitive. The couple of singles are ok but the rest is all filler. With the exception of gasoline and brief moments of a couple of other tracks the cd is not even qualified for background music at a party because it’s all over the place. I do love the whistle-filled "I Wanna Go" and think it’s a pretty solid addition to the Spears library. THIS is what you need to crank out B. Catchy fun and danceable fluff. Don't try and transition your career to some sort of house mash up. You don't do it well. Even with (or especially with) Will.I.Am. in the studio. (Big Fat Bass is one of the top 10 worst songs ever written. I will defend that to the end. It. Is. Awful.) "Till The World Ends" isn't bad but nothing terribly exciting and "Hold It Against Me" is lackluster. Of course, the radio has played them so much that now I do groove a bit more than when they first came out but they're flat and boring songs overall.

I was hoping for a fun dancey album of trashy pop but what I got was an attempt by a pop star to give herself an “edge” with “house” music and “urban” beats. All of these words deserve quotation marks as she doesn’t even get close.

Buy the singles and don’t waste your time with the rest of the album. Miss Spears, you have one more shot. Don’t shave your head again either.

I may not be Fred Flintstone Baby but...

2011-08-31T09:30:00.000-07:00

It was just another day. Until terror struck P St…for everyone but me.

This is now the 7^th earthquake I have lived through and not felt. A couple in California (where I was sure I’d feel at least one) and now DC. I was walking back from Starbucks to a meeting at the gym and all of a sudden people started running out of the buildings and looking up. After a couple of seconds murmurs of “Did you feel it?” started making their way through the crowd.

No. No I did not feel it. (That's what she said...bazing!)

I had no idea anything had happened. Apparently if you were moving at all (on a bus, in a car, on a bike, walking quickly) you might not have felt the quake. Since I had no objects to really put any of the movement into perspective for me it just felt like a regular step in my stride and I didn’t feel even a quiver.

Government agencies shut down, businesses closed, people went home and took unscheduled leave time. DC is the least prepared city for a natural disaster ever.

Teeny earthquake: City shuts down

Snowstorm: City shuts down for weeks

Hurricane threat: Grocery stores emptied

The capitol of our nation is the wussiest city I’ve ever lived in.

1) It’s fine, some people didn’t even feel it…yes it cracked the Washington monument but it certainly didn’t fall. Take precautions but it’s not a sign of the end times.

2) Invest in some snow plows. I know it doesn’t snow most of the year and the budget is tight but for Christ sake have SOME option for when/if it snows. The money lost due to lack of people going out for 2 weeks of snow time is way worse than the money it would cost to get a couple plows and hire some people. Even if it took a day or two to do, it’s fine.

3) Don’t even start with hurricane. It’ll be a separate post all together.

I know I shouldn’t “wish” an earthquake to happen anywhere. Even a pansy little one like we had here has done some damage. It shakes buildings off their foundations and cracks penis shaped monuments. No one wants that. So clearly I don’t want another earthquake to happen…I’m just saying if one does and I live in that city I hope I feel it next time. (I also hope it’s a little puss puss quake like this past one because I think while I want to feel one, I’d also be terrified if one really rolled through and say knocked down a wall or something so dear universe…don’t take this too seriously, I wanna feel one but I don’t wanna die in it.)

Second star to the right and straight on till morning.

2011-08-27T20:59:00.000-07:00

I never want to grow old.

Now not "old" the way kids say old when they think of 30 (which is just barely over 2 years away) or 40 or even 50. Old to me isn't so much a number as it is a state of being. Things give out. Our bodies can only take so much and enough wear and tear and we're all gonna deteriorate sooner or later. We can slow this down by treating our bodies well and by staying in the right mindset but it's going to happen to everyone eventually. I am fully aware that I will not be as spry or limber as I am today when I am in my 50's. No getting around it.

But.

I won't have to consider myself "old" when the 50's run around necessarily. Old to me is "given up". You can be much older than 50 and still not be "old" as I use the term. I don't think anyone is "old" until they are done living. Sure your capabilities change but that means you readjust and figure out where to find the life and the youth in the parameters your body gives you. Can't mountain bike anymore? Go for a walk on the trail. Can't walk the trail anymore? Try a wheelchair. Can't use a wheelchair? Paint a picture of the trail. Can't hold a paintbrush too long? Dictate a story about it. You get my point. Life is about living and until I'm in a box (or more likely scattered in the ocean) I don't plan on stopping. If I ever get to a point where my days are spent being unable to take care of myself, lonely and in pain then I don't want to extend that time any longer. Life throws stuff at us and who knows if I'll even be able to walk tomorrow but hopefully I;ll be able to find life in whatever turn it takes.

Why this sudden ode to youth?

I went to visit my great Aunt in her assisted living community today. I go to visit her about once a month. I'm the only relative nearby so it's basically my duty. This all sounds pretty selfless but don't confuse me for a saint. While I definitely see how much my visits mean to her and at the end of the day I'm glad to go...it's a giant pain in the ass.

Ask anyone who has had an aging relative and (if they're not sugar coating it like an old southern lady is wont to do) they'll tell you it's tough. The older you get it seems the more set in your ways you are (somewhat rightfully so, you've earned it) but with that comes a stronger sense of annoyance when things aren't as you see fit. To block out one of my days off in a time period where I already have next to no free time is a tough sell especially when the things we often talk about aren't terribly fun. Now and then I'll get a good story about my family or some of her work history (she had a high government clearance level...but she's a good former worker and never tells me any of the really good stuff) but most of the time we talk about which of her friends are sick or dying, how terrible her doctor's appointments were or Charlie's bowel movements.

(Her cat. I could have placed the parenthesis right after his name but what fun would that be?)

Aunt Betty, while certainly a sweet old lady who means well by all her friends and family, is still a bit at odds with many of my viewpoints and at times difficult to interact with. Of my family however, she and I probably do share the most liberal leanings but that's like saying she's the skinniest girl at Kirstie Alley's house. (I kid, I kid. I adore you Kirstie and you look great these days.) She is still extremely conservative but unlike most of my fam, she will listen to rebuttals and discuss her points with a somewhat (mis)informed POV without just shouting at you that you've been brainwashed by the "goddam liberal media". It's still tough though to gear up to go listen to how Obama is destroying the world, marriage should be between a man and a woman and Bill O'Riley has "some really good ideas" on my day off.

However, Aunt Betty is not what this post is about. I can handle her quirks because we have a pretty good mutual understanding that we're not going to agree on many issues but that's ok. (A disagreement in my family that doesn't end up in a shouting match?! Shocking.) That and of course she's my family and has done lots of really great things for me and those important to me so the least I can do is visit now and again. She's grateful to have someone come out to talk to her and help out with her computer and I'm happy to stock up some good karma points and actually feel connected to one side of my family. Aunt Betty and I have a pretty solid mutual understanding of each other even if our viewpoints are clashy.

This post is more about the slow spiral many people hit as they "get old". (Remember getting old and aging are two totally separate ideas for me.)

I am glad that she has someone around to come visit her mainly because when I arrive on the assisted living campus (it is like a sprawling college campus for the 65+ frat boy and sorority girl) you can feel the people there staring at you because you're young. For some of them it's a wistful look as if they are remembering their youth and what it was like when they were my age. Others it feels like they're actively trying to suck the youth out of you a la Hocus-Pocus (which PS scared me to death as a child). They stare at you from their rascal scooters as you walk by, some saying hi, others just staring and you can feel the eyes of most everyone in the room land squarely on you. It's a creepy feeling especially the first couple of times you visit. I'm a bit more acclimated to it now and I just smile and exude as much youth and vitality as I can and say hello to every person I pass just so they have some human interaction. It's really sad to think (know) that some of these people don't have anyone left in their lives. That they spend their days in pain missing days and people gone by. Longing for some form of real connection and interaction other than a casual hello from a guy with a beard walking down the hall going to meet someone who is not them. This, this is where I never want to end up.

I want to age. I want to grow and learn and experience. I want to fail and succeed and go new places. I want all the great things that come with getting older and I'm prepared to deal with the inevitabilities that come along with that. What I'm not prepared to do is live a life where I'm just stalling. If I get to a point where my friends and family are all dead. I can't move. I spend most of my day in pain. I lament even having to get up in the morning because of the supreme amount of effort it takes me. If I get to this point then I don't want to be there anymore.

Death is scary yeah but I'd rather check out what's behind door number eternity than cling to an unlivable life.

I'm ready to get older but in true Peter Pan form, I'll never be ready to be old.

"That man ate all our shrimp...and two plastic lobsters"

2011-08-27T18:37:00.000-07:00

Brunch. The gayest (and therefore the best) meal of the day.

Today's brunch is brought to you by Masa 14.

Masa had been on my "to do" list for a while and I finally had someone to go with. The delightful Sara Brunow.

We got there before the doors opened which turned out to be pretty unnecessary as there was plenty of space. We sat down and knew before going that we were doing the unlimited brunch for $35 (including drinks). We perused the menu and ordered some breakfast-y items and drinks. Sara got the Masa Mimosa and I tried the Lychee Bellini.

Can someone please clarify whether it is pronounced lie-chee or lee-chee for me? I have now officially heard "people who should know" (read: Chinese people) pronounce it both ways and I keep making myself look like an ass when I order anything with lychee in it. I just want the confidence in my pronunciation so that no matter how they say it back to me, even if in a corrective tone, I can think to myself "no way mister, screw you. I said it lie-chee and I know I'm right so you can take your lee-chee crap elsewhere because that don't fly over here."

While the lychee was fantastic, the Masa Mimosa is clearly the winner of the drink race. The Masa Mimosa is a regular mimosa but instead of orange juice it has blood orange juice and a hint of mango puree which was amazing. Bottomless is a dangerous term but thankfully I wasn't in the mood to get smashed.

Now to the food. The most amazing thing we had was easily the chorizo plate. Had the waitress just brought that dish out over and over again I would have been satisfied. Their granola was really great with a hint of vanilla/almond to it that I enjoyed. I was a bit underwhelmed by both the tuna steak and the chilaquiles although both still good they just didn't stand out with quite as much flavor or pop as the rest of the dishes did. Everything else we tried was quite good and the overall experience was pretty solid. With attentive waitstaff (my water was never less than 1/3 empty...but who's drinking water here really?), great ambiance, yummy (and bottomless) food and drink for a reasonable price it's tough to go wrong here. I'll certainly head back and probably lounge around a bit longer. With a larger group or date it would be a great way to spend your 11am-2pm Sunday time frame and then leave stuffed and buzzed. Sara and I had to roll out early to get some errandy things done and having already made asses of ourselves mispronouncing lychee and talking too loudly (theatre voices) of our sex lives (limited shame) it was probably best to leave before the bell rang anyway.

"It is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time"

2011-08-27T17:53:00.000-07:00

Career.

Yikes. Heavy wordage when you think about it. What you "do" with your life. How do you make a living? How do you set your work/life balance? Can you really separate "work" from "life" or do the two intertwine too much?

For me "work" has often been a large part of "life". Pursuing theatre, music and teaching was a big part of my identity and remains part of it even though it is removed from "work" for the time being. I think one of the things many people struggle with is deciding if what they "do" defines "who they are". (Let me put more quotation marks in this post how bout it?)

Right now I'm caught in the middle of a somewhat amorphous phase of my life. I've stopped "working" in theatre and the arts and now my job is massage therapist and spa manager. I still believe that my passion for the arts helps define who I am and what my life is even though I'm not working in that world. Massage is something that has happened pretty organically for me. I've always been good at it so when the chance to take classes while keeping my full time job came up I thought why not. I've really connected with the work and I love the things I am now able to do. (Ref: older post about being called a healer.) So now, for the first time in my life, my job has not been a (mostly) complete representation who I am. I don't say the words "I'm a massage therapist" with quite as much conviction as I used to say "I'm a(n) actor/director/teacher."

This makes it sound like I'm not happy with being a massage therapist...that's not the case at all. I'm actually quite happy with it. I'm paying off all the debt I accrued saying "I'm a(n) actor/director/teacher". I'm learning new skills and how to think in different ways (which is extremely important to me). I have met lots of really amazing people. I am exploring lots of new ways of thinking and developing new and healthy habits. I'm learning about the human body and ways that it breaks and ways you can fix it. I'm engaging and training a completely new side of myself and I am constantly excited about it. I think the disconnect is coming from my life time dedicated to saying "I am __(insert job)__" and letting that take all the work out of defining who I am to someone else. I think there is such a strong idea of what a(n) actor/director/singer is that when you tell someone that one of those things is your job then they already "know" a lot about you. When you say "massage therapist" or "spa manager" it doesn't come with quite the same understanding.

Having a job that doesn't have an immediately defining manifesto leaves one in a place where you have to confront exactly what you want to portray to people as you. A hefty task.

Hmm, that was a significant ramble away from what this post was originally going to be about. Let's backtrack.

I saw a client of mine who I have been seeing for many months this weekend. I hadn't seen them in forever and our schedules finally clicked for them to come in. After catching up briefly we went into the spa and I asked what they wanted me to work on.

Lots of stuff came pouring out about how difficult things have been lately. No real specifics but just a clear picture of a rough patch from a client who isn't terribly talky about personal life. It was clear that this massage was going to be the first real break the client had had from this shitstorm in their life and it was super important to them. I have yet to do a massage that had quite as much meaning as this one did for me. This client was around from the very start of my massage career and we developed a great rapport. To see them so clearly frustrated and upset with something was tough because I'm a bit of an empathetic d-bag. It was clear that this massage was the first time they have had to really switch off and disconnect from all the shit going on in their life. I have never felt more motivated to do my best work than here. I felt like I was really making a difference in my client's life that was significant and meaningful.

All of a sudden the work that I've not been ascribing as my "I'm a __(blank)__" is actually pretty important and can be really powerful. I may not be curing cancer or saving starving kids but I am helping people feel better and I think there is a lot to be said for that. Helping someone recover from a sore muscle, a stressful day or even a month of shitty stuff going on is a pretty great job and I'm happy to take it on. To be an integral part of the health and wellbeing of others is necessary and worthwhile. I may have to explain who I am a bit more now than I'm used to but I think that's a good thing. I want to be more complex than a job title.

Till they fall off

2011-08-21T20:25:00.000-07:00

Today the experience is training arms and core. (God that's a douchey way to start a post..."Oh you know just workin' the lats and the tris baby, gettin' swole". Kill me for that.)

I've decided the reason to have a trainer is mainly to have someone tell you "Oh no you're not done yet."

When I train by myself I lift until I'm pretty sure I'm done. That I can't do anymore. Everything I've read says you should lift to exhaustion when you're looking to gain muscle.

Well my idea of exhaustion on my own is different from exhaustion with a trainer. I lift to my idea of exhaustion and then Chandini says "Ok 8 more to go...for this set."

What the hell do you want from me?

It's good though. It's good. I've just resigned myself to being sore for the rest of this year. I hope that by the end of all the PT time that I'll have learned more about where "actual exhaustion" is and have some lifting regiments I can do on my own.

I think one thing I have to stop doing is equating lifting and the gym with douchey. While yes often times the two do indeed go together (stop bouncing your pecs in the mirror when you're done with a chest press asshole...you know who you are) they aren't necessarily always tied together. I've learned a lot working out with intelligent and informed trainers about the body, nutrition, health, wellness and being sore. Having a commitment to being healthier is actually pretty awesome and making lifestyle changes that positively effect both my body and my health are good steps to take. I think growing up in a pretty unhealthy environment engrained in me the idea that being healthy and fit was a bad thing or something to be looked down on. "Why waste your life in a gym or eating healthy foods when you can be fat and happy?" Well fat was certainly not happy and while I'm sure some of that is mental, a lot of it is biological. Low energy levels, inability to walk long distances or even stand for long portions of the day and low self esteem tied with poor body image from years of being unhealthy certainly aren't the way to go. There's a balance between letting the gym and your eating habits take control of your life and letting them govern your decisions. All sorts of studies (which I will leave unreferenced because I don't feel like looking them up right now) have suggested that working out during the day actually makes you more productive and while yes you do have to give that time to being in the gym, it's not a waste at all. I'm starting to look at the time I spend working out or the times I skip the free bread bowl or a slice of pie at the beginning/end of a meal as investments in the future. Sure I "lose" an hour now but it's hopefully going to help me live longer and improve my quality of life when I get old. Growing old (and I mean actually old as in nursing home old) is terrifying to me. I have been to those places and the people who are confined to rascals and walkers with tennis balls on them are pretty depressing. I want the ability to walk and move unassisted as long as I can have it and if that means I have to spend some time in the gym now and maybe skip a movie on the couch now and then well then so be it.

Changing a lifetime of unhealthy choices and habits takes a lot and it's hard most of the time. Of course I'd rather have Doritos than green beans for my snack but I'd also rather be confident going to a beach and taking off my shirt. I spent too much time apologizing for how fat I was (or how fat I perceived myself to be) with my body language and attitude. Shaking all of that off (literally and figuratively speaking) has taken a pretty intense borderline obsession with this process but I keep looking towards the light at the end of the tunnel. When I've built up the body and the health that I'm aiming for and I can start the "maintain" phase I hope it will be a bit easier than the "swimming against the current" mentality I have now. I've still got a ways to go before I'm there mentally but each day is a step in the right direction. (How motivational.)

Huh, this was supposed to be a boring short post about an arm work out.

I wish I had Gob there to make it more interesting...

2011-08-21T19:46:00.000-07:00

I ran a quarterly all staff meeting today.

It's as exciting and interesting as it sounds.

It was the biggest thing that happened today. <---Depressing sentence.

My staff is awesome and they had great ideas though so I do have that going for me. Thank goodness they're all so great or I'd be boned. Yay staff!

I'm not gonna write anymore about this. You wouldn't care to read it anyway.

To make up for how boring of a post this is, here's a link to a cat trying to get into boxes that are too small for it.

I admit that in the past I've been a nasty

2011-08-21T14:36:00.000-07:00

I love the Little Mermaid.

Guilty.

Super gay? Oh yeah, but you can suck it if you have a problem with it.

Lots of gays seem to like the Little Mermaid too...what is it about this movie that unites all the homos? Well, let's break it down.

*A story about a young girl struggling with living in a place where no one understands her. (Ghey)

* Singing/Dancing undersea life. (Ghey)

* A young girl searching for a forbidden true love. (Ghey)

* Some of the best Disney songs ever written. (Ghey)

* A Disney Villain modeled after a drag queen (Ghey g-ghey ghey ghey)

Urusla is the best Disney villain ever. (Malificent is scarier than Ursula but Ursula is such a better overall villain.) She has the best villain song too. Today I youtubed "Poor Unfortunate Souls" to catch up on all the words and re-familiarize myself with the song that I as a child had memorized.

A little piece of me died to see that The Jonas Brothers have done a cover of the song but I pressed on. I now proudly know all the words to "Poor Unfortunate Souls" and have sung it basically every day since learning. If I could audition with this song I absolutely would.

While I might not be able to use it professionally...the drag race is coming up soon...

Facebook update: Your Gall Bladder Meridian has poked you.

2011-08-21T13:18:00.001-07:00

Working in the spa industry makes you want to do weird things.

Like asking someone to stick needles in you and paying them for the privilege.

I'd always been a bit curious about acupuncture but am a bit of a needle-phobe and it was always too expensive to just "give it a go". Finally a living social deal came up for an acupuncture session at Creative Hands Massage so I decided to jump on it.

I'll focus mostly on the session as opposed to my review of the space. There are some negative reviews on Yelp which I didn't have any similar issues with but it sounds like it's something I should investigate if I'm going to return for my follow up appointment.

I arrived about 20 minutes early (as is spa courtesy, especially for a first time appointment at an unfamiliar place) and accidentally came in the back door. (Har de har har.) The space is actually in an alley way and a bit tough to find. I opened the door to the studio (which I only knew was the right door because of the recycling bin labeled "CHMassage" by the door. I interrupted the receptionist (who was very sweet) on her lunch break. She led me to the front and had me start filling out the intake form. I met the owner briefly who was apparently working on something for the website. She seemed a bit stressed out but was nice overall.

The intake form was 4 pages long or so. It asked how much water I drink, what color is my tongue, how often I poop and all sorts of other questions. I filled everything out as best I could then was escorted to my room to hang out and wait for my acupuncturist. Zinnia (sp?) showed up with her chakra stone necklace in tow and checked over my intake form and promptly told me we wouldn't be using this one.

"So what hurts?"

"Umm, well nothing really..."

"Well then what do you hope to accomplish with the session?"

"Well honestly I'm a massage therapist and have just always wanted to try this and I got a good deal on the session today so I thought why not...umm I do have tight hamstrings though."

"Alright, we can work with that."

She then asked me all the questions I'd already filled out on the form and we chatted a little bit. I showed her my squat (she also studied Alexander Technique so that's helpful) and we got to work. She decided to focus on my bladder meridian which apparently runs down the center of the back of the leg.

She asked me to take my shorts off and then just sorta hung around. I thought she was going to leave and then come back but she just stood there so I took them off right in front of her (which was a bit awkward but I'm not terribly shy) and got on the table. She started putting the needles in and everyone has asked "what does it feel like?"

Well it feels like a needle going into your leg.

It's not comfortable.

It's not relaxing like a massage.

I don't know how I expected it to be anything like that. I don't know what I expected it to be like but what you *should* expect it to be like is like a needle going into your leg.

That being said it didn't hurt TOO much but it's not comfortable.

So the needles start going in on the bladder meridian and I feel a couple of pulse-like sensations but nothing terribly crazy. A bit pinchy and pokey but overall nothing too out of the ordinary. No overhwhelming sense of relaxation or release. No super painful pokes. Just sorta run of the mill needles in the leg sensations.

Then she said "Let's try some of the Gall Bladder meridian, it's right here along your IT band"

*poke*

"Whoa....what is that?!"

This time I felt something big. The needle went in to my GB Meridian and it felt like a rush of water from my hip to my knee converging on the spot about 3/4 up my thigh. The spot pulsated for a couple of minutes and I had a pretty strong response to all the remaining GB meridian needles.

"This must be your meridian."

"What does that mean?"

"It's the meridian of creativity and vision..."

Well...sure that sounds nice but I still don't really know what it means.

After putting 10 needles in each leg she said "Now you relax for a bit" and left the room.

She left with no music playing and no time frame for when she'd return so I started trying to zen out a bit. (I also snuck a peak of my legs just to see the needles sticking out and it wasn't as terrifying as I anticipated.)

I'm a bit of an antsy person. I move around a lot. I toss and turn before I fall asleep and my mom always called me a "wallerer" (which is apparently a southern term that not everyone understands...think of someone rolling around on the floor mainly for the tactile stimulation they get from rolling around...or a cat doing lots of slow stretches just because...that's what it means to waller). This just means I can't stay still for too long unless I'm totally asleep or totally blissed out. Needles in the leg = not totally blissed out.

I tried to just chill on the table but the urge to move even just a tiny bit kept sneaking up. I had no idea how long I was going to be on the table and that uncertainly just made it worse. I kept wanting to roll over but could barely move without the needles changing position and pinching a bit. Finally after what felt like about half an hour she came back to take all the needles out. I got off the table and she had me do another squat. She said it looked better but I couldn't really tell much difference. We scheduled an appointment not with her but with another acupuncturist 6 weeks from today. I tried to tip her (whoops) and was told "This is a medical procedure, there's no tip." Hopefully I didn't piss her off...I didn't know the etiquette.

The owner told me it varies from acupuncturist to acupuncturist...some that she had would take tips and others refuse them. So now I have zero standard and run the risk of looking like a cheap bastard or a trashy douche anytime I go to a new person. Maybe I'll just ask on the phone.

For a couple of hours after my right calf was pretty sore...as if I'd just gotten a much deeper shot in the middle of the muscle belly. It went away the next day and I had a training session. Apparently I looked a lot more flexible to my trainer and my hamstrings were "pretty impressive" as far as flexibility goes. My squats were better, my caterpillars were better and my overall range of motion improved. Now was this due to acupuncture or the fact that my body is just getting better at the moves now that I've been doing them pretty consistently? Not entirely sure.

Overall reaction is I'm going to keep my 6 week appointment (as long as nothing more fun comes up) and see if it helps more with a stronger focus on the Gall Bladder meridian. The rates at the clinic are pretty cheap so it's wroth it at least to experiment. I'll update when the time comes.

The Pitter Patter of White Noise

2011-08-21T13:12:00.000-07:00

I live in the attic of a 100 year old row house.

Temperature control is a bitch but it's the biggest room in the house. It has a horribly ugly green carpet but is such a cool space that despite it's flaws I do love living there.

One of my favorite things about the room is that my ceiling is basically the roof (see "issues with temperature control) so when it rains it sounds amazing.

I'm not really one for white noise machines but if they could mimic what is sounds like in that room I would sleep like a baby every night. While I usually have difficulty falling asleep, when it's raining and I'm in my room I am out.

With all the stressful things in my life right now, it's nice to have something so small have such a strong effect.

Dear rain, please don't rain on Sundays when I have free time to do things but do rain every night around midnight-2am. Thanks.

"It'd be cute if you weren't gay...well it's still pretty cute."

2011-08-18T15:08:00.000-07:00

Today (8/13) was a pretty busy day at work with lots of boring work things going on and then a fairly uneventful evening so this post is a bit of a stretch for "experience" but hey they can't all be winners right?

After coming back from lunch with my work wife we ended up getting caught in a pretty torrential downpour. Work and lunch aren't even a full block away from each other but we still ended up getting soaked. She had an umbrella and I did not so we decided to make the trek under the one brella. From the outside it looked pretty adorable. What a romantic/playful thing. Sharing an umbrella and clinging to one another to stay dry while running through the rain giggling. It's so sweet my teeth hurt but sadly "work wife" is but a title and her parts just don't do it for me. (Much to my father's chagrin.)

While this time it wasn't quite the romantic romp I'd like for it to be, it's cute to practice.

And you shall be...

2011-08-18T14:54:00.000-07:00

I had a couple of reasons to become a massage therapist.

1) It was more lucrative than teaching or theatre/music.

2) I was always pretty good at it

3) It fit into my schedule

4) It was flexible so when I do start doing theatre/music again I have some sway in my hours.

5) There's a bit of a romantic ideal to working in a spa and the idea of traveling the world as a massage therapist was really appealing.

6) I like working with people.

I think these are all pretty standard reasons for lots of people to become massage therapists. Well I got a bit of a pat on the back today which is always nice.

I have a client I have seen a handful of times and each time I have always gotten the vibe that the client was unhappy with me as a therapist. That, despite my best efforts, they left the spa less than satisfied. I don't know what gave me that impression (demeanor? tone of voice? body posture?) but I always felt a bit like they were disappointed. (You may notice I'm not giving my client a gender, mainly to protect client confidentiality...any time I write about an experience in the spa it will remain as vague as I can leave it and still tell the story.)

Well today the spa got a call from one of the trainers at the gym requesting me specifically for their client. I work fairly closely with the PT department so my name is probably at the top of most of their recommendation lists whether or not they've worked with me before because I'm one of the only therapists they would even be aware of. The trainer said their client was complaining of an issue in their neck and was about to go on a long business trip and they had to get in. My book was closed off but I said they could come in for a 30 minute session to see what we could take care of.

When I saw who the client was I thought that the trainer had probably forced me as the therapist because they knew my name and knew I had a solid reputation but the client still wasn't excited about it.

I consulted with now my client and found out the source of their pain and what the issues were with range of motion and got to work. About midway through the massage (after the client actually stopped to take a work phone call) they said:

"I'm so glad you were here and could see me. You always fix me. I've gone to other therapists and I always feel a bit better when they're done. You fix me though. You should do as many massages as you can because it will be great for your karma. Being a healer is so amazing and you're a healer."

Wow. I gotta say that's a pretty strong reinforcement that I'm doing something right. This client went from one I was certain didn't like me to one of my biggest fans. Clearly it's silly of us as therapists to impose anything on our clients or to assume anything about what they think of us unless we're told directly. I'm confident in my abilities as a massage therapist and I like to think that I do certainly help people get better but there's some sort of density to the word healer that I'm not sure if I'm ready to own just yet. I aspire to one day be comfortable with that title but in the meantime it's really nice to know that at least someone already gives it to me.

This post about ta...

2011-08-18T14:51:00.000-07:00

It's nice sometimes when you get an unexpected burst of being happy.

This morning (9/15) I had one of those moments just driving to work. Some dancey song came on (embarrassingly enough I think it may have been Ke$ha which makes my heart die a bit to type) and I just immediately fell into a good mood.

Work is hard. My body is sore from training. I don't have a ton of free time to do the things I'd like to do. Then suddenly something gives you a burst of happy and it carries you for a bit. It's moments like this that are refreshing and more importantly reassuring for me that even though I'm not exactly where I want to be in the moment (in more ways than one) that my core is still pretty happy...even when lots of things are stressful. I'd like to think that I won't ever lose that.

Meathead Princess

2011-08-13T18:49:00.000-07:00

I work at a super chi-chi/posh/upscale gym spa in one of the fittest cities in America.

This is not really a place I would ever have really seen myself working had you asked 2 years ago but somehow here I am.

You can't work at a place like this and not be shamed into trying to get into shape. The most perfect bodies (and judgmental eyes) come in and out the doors all day. I had just begun trying to "shape up" a bit during massage school because I felt like I couldn't market massage as a health benefit if I waddled into the room. (I also have bad lateral turn out so the descriptor of "waddle" is really not that much of a hyperbole.) After getting a job at this gym I had to kick things into higher gear. I started trading massages for personal training sessions with my trainer Lisa at the first location I worked at. I learned a ton from her and we started putting together some fitness plans/goals so I could get in shape for Ginger's wedding.

Having been a "fitness baby" I was learning a lot of things really quickly from the PT time and I started to see results. By the time Ginger's wedding rolled around I had lost quite a bit of weight and was pretty happy with the results. I did however want to put on some muscle. I've always wanted a nice chest, arms and back (who doesn't?) and I thought while working at a gym spa, surrounded by knowledgeable personal trainers is probably going to be the best time in my life to get it together.

Since Ginger's wedding my goals have changed from weight loss to muscle gain officially. (Hopefully weight loss will continue as I gain more muscle and increase my metabolism but the body only does one of those at a time really well I've been told.) Apparently the best and most effective move for total body muscle gain is a weighted squat. So of course I want to do squats.

Problem.

I have ridiculously tight hamstrings and calves from being overweight my whole life. My pelvis has tilted and elongated my quads resulting in ridiculous flexibility in that direction but tightened my hamstrings leaving me unable to even do a straight legged toe touch. Apparently, flexible hamstrings are pretty necessary to doing a squat. So while I've known for months now that squats are the way to go, I haven't been able to do one even without weight because of my hamstrings. I can't get fully into the squat position without falling over so you don't want to put a huge bar on top of me before hand.

We've constantly been working on increasing my flexibility to try and get my body able to handle a squat and today was the day to really go for it. We started doing squats on a medicine ball (trying to touch my butt to the ball without falling and without flaring my knees) first to get the form down. I could cheat and grab a stabilization bar if I needed to but slowly my form improved and I got deeper into the stretch. Then we added the bar with no weights (which is still pretty damn heavy).

This hurt. A lot. Apparently the flexibility level in my back is pretty low too because even just holding the bar felt like it was ripping my shoulders out of socket but on we press. The added weight actually helped get deeper into the squat and wasn't terribly difficult to lift. I have pretty strong legs if I might toot my own horn...not much else on my body is strong but legs seem to develop some power when they carry around a fat guy all day for 20 years.

We added weight and it started to get more challenging but I actually enjoyed it. (Who am I?) There are apparently some exercises I actually like. Squats, dumbbell rows and overhead presses being the three that immediately jump to mind. I feel like that meathead I always secretly wanted to be. Lisa, knowing my goals are 90% aesthetic, told me that once I added dead lifts to my repertoire then I'd have a routine that would make me into that meathead princess I hoped to be. Lisa has learned that I enjoy two types of exercises, ones that make me feel like a badass (see above) and ones I can pretend are dancing. She's slowly putting together the complete "Meathead Princess" routine. You can bet there will be a workout DVD coming out of this. Reserve yours today, it's gonna fly off the shelf.

Get in and don't ask questions

2011-08-13T18:36:00.000-07:00

Tuesday August 16th (to catch up on the date this *should* have been posted.

Not too much exciting to write about. The "return day" is always a bit mundane I think when you're coming off a trip high.

The only real notable experience was riding home (at 1:30am so it counts as happening on Tuesday) in an unmarked cab.

I got off the bus and was dreading finding a cab. As I approached the gates I was relieved to see a couple of cabs waiting and a guy asked me if I needed a cab. I enthusiastically forced out a "Yes!" in my sluggish half asleep state. Rather than whisking me off to his bright yellow cab he pointed to a lady who came up and asked me "where ya goin'?" and I told her my address and she said "Yeah, I'll take ya."

Now I still think she's going to lead me to her cab but she leads me to her Corolla with a strawberry shaped air freshener hanging from the dash and motions for me to sit in the front.

"Ummm, how much is it gonna cost to take me home?"

"Where do you live again?"

"14th and Webster, northwest..."

"Ohhh ummm that's gonne be $12."

That's about what I was anticipating so rather than dealing with the hassle of finding another cab I agreed.

Now if you've ever sat in the front of a cab you might be familiar with how awkward that kinda feels. You want to just zone out and either close your eyes, look out the window or play on your phone but it's a bit weird to do it when there is another person right across the arm rest from you but at least most of the time the driver doesn't really engage with you.

This was not Kristen's way.

"How was your trip?"

"Where did you go?"

"That sounds fun! Did you like it?"

"What do you do for work?"

"Ooooh I love spas, I just went to get my nails done last week and they *longer story than worth typing*"

"Oh so this is up past the Upshur pool? That's gonna be $14."

Damn it. I knew that would happen. I briefly considered telling her to just let me out there cause unmarked cabs are so sketch (I had already passed up about 3 in NYC when I was there due to sheer skeeze factor) but I was exhausted and couldn't imagine traipsing around looking for someone else to take me home. While mentally and verbally exhausting, Kristen was at least nice and had called me "boo" a couple of times and I'm a sucker for that.

By the end of our trip I had recommended Spaworld to her for her weekend plans and I had learned of her affinity for baths over showers and how spicy foods make her gassy.

Unmarked cabs...probably best as a last resort unless you're feeling chatty...or like you don't need that extra $4.

I crossed the river but didn't die of dysentery

2011-08-12T17:53:00.000-07:00

Day 3 in NYC's experience is walking the city. It's a great (albeit tiring) way to see the city and get a better feel for it.

After taking the subway from Astoria down to the Battery I walked around the coast line and had a brief moment of "What would my life be like if I had moved here right after college like I always imagined I would in high school?" It wasn't a sad moment just one of those million possibilities kind of reflections.

An awesome urban community garden plot on the Battery

My dear friend Ginger (who I grew up with and have followed each other basically everywhere till graduating from college) and I always sort of dreamed of moving from bumblefuck to the biggest city we could imagine and what it would be like to be artists/actors/musicians/bohemians/servers/bartenders/badasses in NYC. We visited in high school and it was the last time I saw the Statue of Liberty. I've been back to NYC since but it was foggy and she was just a dark blurry shadow every time. This time the sky was clear and I could see her. Even though I live in DC where I see impressive monuments all the time (and they still have an effect on me even two years later now and again) this time it made me stop and have a nice little moment.

Not the best view of her for sure but this is the exact moment I had my "What if" pause.

I followed my iPhone map (it's a phone too?) to the Brooklyn Bridge. I wandered past Wall Street and then found the pedestrian entrance to the bridge. It was actually a pretty nice walk. Pretty crowded but everybody was pretty easy going. It's a great view of the skyline and it finally helped solidify exactly where the hell Brooklyn is in my mental map of NYC. After picking the absolutely wrong turn (that leads down to Fulton Street, the shopping district in Brooklyn, via an extremely long and impossible to escape path down the middle of the street) I jumped on the subway and went to Central Park.

What's good for Wall Street is good for main street...right?

The bridge walk begins

Great view of the sky line

Obligatory self shot to prove I was there. See! I didn't just steal all these pictures.

Central park is a strange combo of huge empty fairly boring spaces and beautifully manicured and interesting gardens. It's so big and daunting...I've been before and thought I'd seen all of it but clearly that's not the case because I hardly even recognized anything. Wandering past the turtle pond, the Shakespeare garden and all the other areas was a great close to my trip. I had no idea where I was going but just enjoyed the process of exploring. I think if I lived in NYC I'd take my days off and just wander like this a lot (at least to start). You get more mental map (clearly this is important to me since I can't stop talking about it), you get time to reflect on what's going on and you get some pretty amazing people watching.

I'm a sucker for pathways with trees rounded over them like this. I will take a picture every damn time even though they ALL look the same. This one is pretty quality though.

A little pavilion area near the row boat docks.

I've got to do this but I wasn't about to be that lame guy rowing a boat by himself.

I dare you to look at this bench and tell me New York isn't romantic. Seriously. You sit in this bench with somebody and you're getting married. Done deal.

While I hadn't reached my fill of Central Park, I had reached my limit for walking. My feet and calves were starting to tighten to a level I couldn't ignore anymore so I decided it was time to plant somewhere. I hopped in a cab and made my way to the West Village to crash at a coffee shop on Gay street and see the landmark Stonewall Inn and the memorial.

After work my friend Will came out to meet me for dinner but not before I drug him along to "The Pleasure Palace" to purchase a new accouterment or 3. (On a completely unrelated topic there are no more photos in this article.) Will is clearly a pretty good sport.

After this round I've decided that I could definitely live in NYC and I'd probably enjoy it a lot. The fear of not having my space is mostly dissipated and I think the trade offs would be worth it, if only for a while. Now it's just a matter of when does it make sense or does it ever?

Give my regards

2011-08-12T15:43:00.000-07:00

So day 2 of New York is of course another whirlwind of activity but I've decided that I should try and keep things to a minimum when there's just tons and tons to write about. So this is by no means a full account of the day but hits the high point.

A Broadway show.

The Dramatic Arts major in my clamors to see something when I go visit. While there were clearly more "artistic" shows offered while I was there, budgetary and time restrictions (couldn't get to TKTS early enough to grab tickets to much else) helped me decide that I would be going to see that camp-tastic movie port of "Priscilla Queen of the Desert".

Rachel and I searched for about 15 minutes trying to find the theatre...another moment of "I wish they'd just put up a huge sign somewhere and then it'd be easier to fi....oh."

Gay confession time: I'm not a huge fan of this movie. I've seen it once and did really enjoy it but I couldn't quote it to save my life. I felt a bit like a poser rolling in but nevertheless glad to be there. My friend Rachel joined me for the trip and we ended up moving up a tad to get a bit better of a view. I was kicking myself for not getting the cheapest tickets possible because they moved EVERYBODY up. Oh well. This was our final view from the balcony.

Sparkles!

Of course I didn't take any pictures during the show (because I'm a respectful theatre patron) but that's where all the real visuals were. The costumes were insane and over the top. The dance numbers were well done and the quick changes were all super impressive. I felt like overall the characters were pretty engaging (with an especially touching yet humorous performance from Bernadette the full on transexual). The arrangements were fun and the staging exciting. We ended up actually seeing the understudy for Adam/Felicia who did a pretty solid job overall but you could tell that the chemistry was a bit different between the girls. It was really clear though that he was really enjoying the chance to take the lead so I couldn't fault him for anything. The final number culminates with every cast member on stage in over the top Australian themed costumes. (Read oversized koala heads and full body kangaroo jump suits etc. etc.) The girls came out in Victorian hoop skirts that transformed pretty flawlessly into the silhouette of the Sydney Opera House. Really nice touch.

While it wasn't ground breaking theatre and the audience didn't leave the theatre changed in any sort of profound way, it was a fun show with some great spectacle. Aristotle may say spectacle is the least important aspect of a show but I think in a show based around 3 drag queens in a pink bus the order may shift around a bit.

Acrobatic Boobies

2011-08-12T12:24:00.000-07:00

NYC. A city of "experience". Millions flock here to experience something. Theatre, food, culture, drugs, alcohol, excess, poverty and beauty. Constantly changing and moving. Even writing about NYC at all in a way seems cliche. Every writer and their mother talks about New York. All the theatre kids flock here to "make it". Everyone who grew up in a small town feeling like they didn't belong finds their niche in New York or dreams of finding it there at some point. So much to do and see and a constantly changing and growing landscape with an unceasing pace make this the perfect city to experience all sorts of things. (Hence the delay in writing about it, there was a whole lot of stuff crammed into three days and I wanted to include some pictures for this one. Maybe I can learn how to budget some time in the morning or something to get this done in the future. Damn you complete lack of self-discipline. Damn you.)

I'm quite honestly a bit intimidated of New York. Could I live here? Sure. I'm adaptable and pretty savvy about most things so I think I could totally "handle" living there. Every time previous to this trip I've come to NYC thinking "It's such a cool city but I don't think I'd want to live there." This trip I may have changed my mind. This time I thought it could be great to live there just for a year or two to really get the feel of the city and understand it...at least to some degree. Still, I wonder if I could keep up with the pace. Where would I find my "break" time? Where would I get the quiet moments? I know they exist here but they're pretty tough to find when you're just on a quick visit. Maybe one day in the future though a post will be titled "The Big Move". Until then, long weekends will have to do.

I arrived in New York as the sun was heading down and met up with Cathy's friend Cole (who's apartment we graciously crashed at) and we all went out to grab dinner at a vegetarian/vegan Thai place called Red Bamboo which was pretty tasty. We took a brief stop at a gay bar called "Boots and Spurs" (maybe?) where Cathy and Keri touched a footlong in a mesh hammock (I do have pictures but I don't think I'm allowed to post those) then we jetted off to meet Danielle (Cathy's bestie) and her boy Joe (both of whom have amazingly thick Bostonian accents which I for one find adorable...not the word most Bostonians would probably want attributed to their accent but trust I mean it with best intentions...it's a sexy accent and it makes me like you more so talk bean town to me). Our destination was "The Floating Kabarette" at a spot called the Galapagos Art Space.

The space is beautiful. My lame iPhone photos can't do anything justice but I'll include a couple.

I want a space like this.

There are two levels, the main level has 6 islands shooting off of a main aisle where patrons and performers can walk to get to their seats and the stage. The main stage is a proscenium and has a very minimalist charm to it. The stereotypical red curtain and velvet ropes separate the stage from the audience and our enigmatic host Bastard Keith paraded and entertained. Keith was a great blend of camp and talent and was a great MC for the show. The show opened with the performers from "Suspended Cirque" who had a great routine from hanging silks. The aerialists were just mindblowing, in particular the male members of the company. The movements being combos of sexuality, power and grace. It was truly inspiring (and makes you feel like the weakest piece of shit that ever walked the earth when you see them roll themselves up to the ceiling in the silks with their arms).

Here we have the ladies opening act. There was a third member who was performing on stage but these guys had our focus clearly. Core strength + 1000

Here are the menfolk: one singing a version of "Mad World" the other blowing my mind.

HOW DO YOU DO THIS?

The other "main act" so to speak was Jenny Rocha and her Painted Ladies who combined hardcore tap dancing (which I wouldn't have really believed existed until seeing them perform), Burlesque and a playful theatricality into what ended up being some amazing performances which I would categorize as the most turned on by women I've ever been .

This may be the first time I've had to "think about baseball"

with ladies.

If you made Stomp sexy and took off all their clothes and added pasties, you would have the above photo.

Interspersed between these acts were some great burlesque performers (who ranged from a pretty hot take on Alice in Wonderland to a pretty terrifying take on BDSM with lots of violent pelvic outbursts and flailing).

The group's agreed upon favorite.

There was a singer who had a decent voice who “remade” songs into a bit dirtier versions and it was fine and decent filler but nothing terribly exciting. We also were treated to the intensely weird but equally intriguing comedic stylings of Manchego the rail thin, poofy haired yet balding comedian who adeptly dealt with a Jersey Shore Douche Bag (JSDB) and ended up in a gas mask and tighty whities snapping a whip at a confused but well mannered chubby gay jewish guy tied to a chair.

There are lots of moments in my life, this being one of them, where I think to myself "I grew up in Harlan, Kentucky and now here I am watching a skinny caricature of a man wearing a gas mask snapping a whip at a tied up gay Jew while sipping on bourbon and coke...how did I get here?" I'm always pretty happy to be in those places.

After the show ended we all went out to some bars in NYC and ended up at a pretty cool spot called 2A. It was a low key and chill spot until the inevitable bar fight broke out and a dude punched a window and spidered it out. After some police drama and lots of drunken yelling the guy was arrested and taken off. We had a pretty great time overall though and we stayed out until around 4:30am then made our way back to Washington Heights to crash.

Night 1 officially closes as the sun starts to rise on the city.

New York, New York 10185

2011-08-09T20:49:00.000-07:00

I will always remember that zip code from some commercial (which I can't remember what it was about) from my childhood. They would always say "Mail it in to something something something New York, New York one oh one eight five.

The purpose of this post is twofold.

1) Acknowledge that I made it 2 count em 2 whole days without a break in posting from my original start date and to comment on the fact that it's lame there's not post date feature on here so I can hide my shortcomings.

and

2) Acknowledge that I have 3 days to write up about from my trip to NYC. I have some photos to post and so these next few posts may take a while to backlog.

Hopefully by Thursday...and then I'll keep writing for what would be today's post and then Wednesdays and Thursdays as I'll still be behind. Don't count on anything terribly lengthy for Tue/Wed/Thur you vultures.

Wolftrap!

2011-08-09T20:37:00.000-07:00

Having lived in DC for nearly two years something that has always been on my to do list has been to go see something at Wolftrap. Sadly most of the time it's so far off my radar that I don't see that something I would enjoy is there until it has already cleared out and then a lot of the other things they have there aren't super exciting.

This week a Facebook friend posted a coupon code to see The NSO Perform songs from Disney while movie clips and artwork played on the big screen. I thought this was the perfect chance to see something on the cheapish side while still actually being into it. (I less than 3 Disney, most notably the little mermaid and that's what they opened the show with so I had to go.) I bought two tickets for me and Chris and surprised him with a picnic (which I've been told is the best way to enjoy anything at Wolftrap.)

The venue is beautiful and I really want to go back maybe just to walk around and explore a bit more. It was a perfect summer's eve (but seriously folks) with amazing weather and just a great atmosphere of little kids dressed in Disney gear and adults reliving some childhood moments with a classy edge of symphony. The NSO was amazing as always, the vocalists were on point, the artwork and movie clips were fun to watch and the picnic was delicious. Wolftrap gets a gold star for fun and low key date night.

Overall it was a fantastic night with great music and a really fun mood. There is only one little thing I have to be pissy about.

I love kids. I often give kids more of a benefit of the doubt than most. Having been a teacher for a huge age range of kids and some with developmental issues I recognize that in public you almost never know the full story of what's going on and why a kid is acting up. I give parents a really long leash when it comes to keeping kids quiet and respectful. That being said, I also can spot when it's absolutely the parent 's fault that the kids are being brats and for that I have zero tolerance. Kids will be kids but adults should be adults. If your kid is wrapping himslf in blanket and fighting with your other kids on top of the people in front of you it is YOUR resposibility to do the following things.

1) Stop the kids
2) Chastise the kids
3) Apologize to the people they disturbed

This is your job. You are an adult. We are adults. If your kids interrupt other adults we don't expect the kids to stand up and say:

"Oh, I'm ever so sorry sir, I was excitedly playing with my friend here and we got so wrapped up in our tomfoolery that we lost track of our personal space and ended up on your blanket. We won't let it happen again."

What we DO expect though is for you to say "Ian! Stop fighting with Michael and scoot back up here. You're disturbing those people." Then you need to turn to those people and say "I'm really sorry."

At this point I'd be totally fine. In fact I'd probably still think "awww kids are cute and rambunixouus." But when you are a German au pair and you keep screaming

"IAN!!! MICHAEL!!! Schtop fighting and get back up here! Zer are ozha peeple he-yah! You are sho laud!"

And then go back to texting on your blackberry without acknowledging that the brood of the Aryan nation that you're babysitting for has rolled over the bag of food I brought and spilled water all over the place...that's when I get pissed.

Apparently ice dagger stares don't translate the language barrier because even when glaring full force at each child and said Frauline no one ever offered up an acknowledgemlent let alone and apology.

Oh well. Kids will be kids and German ladies will be bitches. Wolf trap still kicks ass.

(PS: if you're still wondering, when I say I less than 3 something: <3)

I promise that's just massage oil...

2011-08-09T20:26:00.000-07:00

As a massage therapist there are a couple of things that we deal with now and then that are unique to our field. People fart on us. When you relax during a massage, everything relaxes. We have to deal with skeezeballs who still think massage is code for hand job. We listen to relaxing Enya music all damn day which trust me is not relaxing after the 40th hour of handbells and oriental wind instruments. Some massage clients have skin tags. Lots and lots of skin tags. You never know how close a back pimple is to popping if you don't know it's there in the first place. We stand on our feet all day bending and leaning and wearing on our bodies and we can't take sick days when we're just a little under the weather because we lose our income source. No clients. No money.

So unless a therapist is contagious we usually try and power through a cough or cold like a champ to keep the income flow. These are not fun days. When you go to work kinda sick or kinda hungover think of how awful it feels sitting at your desk blowing your nose and coughing. Now imagine being up and moving all the time changing the center of gravity of your congested head constantly while trying to create a relaxing and tranquil space for clients as snot and mucus build up in every oraface of your face and your esophagus slowly turns to sand paper. This is a cold for a therapist.

My cold started with a stuffy nose, until I started working on clients and leaning my head forward...then suddenly without warning it turned to a gushing runny nose. Turns out my shirt sleeve is as absorbent as a sham-wow. A runny nose in the treatment room is pretty easy to deal with though. You get a towel, keep it on your shoulder and bam, problem solved. The worst thing is having to cough during a massage. A cough is the most abrupt noise your body can make and certainly not conducive to relaxing or falling asleep especially with how abrupt it is. So now, I'm stuck in a treatment room with a naked man, Enya, a snotty wet sleeve and towel and an unyielding need to cough.

If you've ever tried to suppress a cough you'll know what this feels like. (I don't know why you'd EVER suppress a cough in the first place but I digress.). Every pore on your body starts to sweat. Your lips purse together and your throat clamps up. That tickle in the back of your throat becomes unbearable. As you try and breathe through your nose both of them stop up entirely forcing you to take in air through your already parched esophagus. Each breath a pull of the trigger in the Russian roulette of cough. You struggle to take in the minimum amount of air necessary to maintain basic functions and keep the flow of the massage going without letting on to the fact that you're in the most uncomfortable position you've ever been in internally. Doing your best to keep the client unaware of the awfulness brewing inside you.

You start to think, maybe I can just get some sort of baby cough out and that would help...yeah I can totally do a "controlled cough" and it won't be too loud. I'll just turn into my arm and it won't even register. You realize that would never happen as your body makes a gagging motion and you feel like liquid might burst from every opening in your face. Even as you think the need to cough has passed you realize that it hasn't and it won't until you do it. You look at the clock to see if you can make it the remainder of the time.

You've still got 30 minutes left.

What felt like 45 minutes was actually 5 and you're almost no closer to finishing. A couple of throat convulsions eek out of you which sound somewhere between a hiccup/cough/sneeze but they're quiet enough you can convince yourself the client didn't hear and thought the vibration was just part of the massage. Finally after finishing up one area of the body you decide you can't take it and excuse yourself to "take care of this tickle in my throat without disturbing you" and you leave the treatment room to cough once and blow your nose. All of that and it takes one cough.

I encourage you to try and stifle a cough for as long as you can just to see what this feels like because you can't imagine the horror without experiencing it yourself. Then imagine trying to hide the fact that you're supressing a cough while performing both a powerful and graceful motor skill.

Massage therapists have some interesting work hazards. Did I mention we get farted on. A lot.

Dear Hiring Manager,

2011-08-06T09:02:00.000-07:00

Apparently that's what they teach the kids to put in their cover letters these days.

If you've ever interviewed for a job before I'm sure you've thought (like myself) "Man I wish I was on the other side of the table. It must be so much easier."

Well it's not. It sucks. Hiring has turned out to be one of my least favorite activities as a manager ever. You have to wade through hundreds of resumes to find qualified candidates. Most of these resumes look like this:

Person's name
Person's address
Contact info (maybe)

Objective: To find a job that blah blah blah utilizing my skills to the blah blah challenging work environment blah blah opportunity for growth.
(Resume tip #1: Don't just copy and paste the objective statement from the template you're "learning from". It's boring and the "hiring manager" you're talking to has read the same damn thing about 3000 times this afternoon and doesn't give a shit if you want a chance to utilize your skills.)

Work History

Totally unrelated job #1
I did things that don't qualify me for anything other than performing the job listed above but I'm going to draw out every tiny detail of said position to make it look like I did more than I actually did and make each task so general and vague that it could be applied to any job ever but not really.

Completely unusable experience #2
I really learned a lot about myself in this position because I didn't do anything other than click around on Facebook and write personal emails on company time

Volunteer experience
I saved the manatees in Oklahoma which clearly qualifies me for this receptionist job you're posting for. I'm amazing and selfless. (Resume tip #2 if you don't have a lot of work experience just tacking on times when you did something for free doesn't necessarily impress us unless of course it has something to do with the job we're hiring for. I'm glad the kids of McDonald house learned to finger paint with you but that's not going to instill in me the confidence that you can handle yourself on the phone.)

Related skills
Nothing I can actually use in your position. WPM >30 (Resume tip #3: If you aren't a good typist don't highlight it in your "skills" section. It's not a skill to have to look at the keyboard to type.)

References available. (Read: my mom and best friend who both think I'd be great for this.)

(Overall hiring tips #4-9 your cover letter needs to be more than "see attached" or "Please consider me for this position". Don't email 15 craigslist email addresses at the same time. Don't spell words wrong. You have a spellcheck on your computer. The word will turn red if it is wrong. I don't know what else it could do to help you. Don't forget how to use an apostrophe. Know the difference between there/their/they're, your/you're/yore (doubt you'd use the last version but maybe if you're applying for a Ren fest gig) and to/too/two. Lastly, if you don't REALLY want the job then DON'T APPLY FOR IT. You are wasting both of our time and when I ask you "Why do you want to work here?" and you stumble through a response like "well it's umm a cool place and umm I think could use my experience to benefit the spa and learn valuable tools to pursue my...OH MY GOD SHUT UP. I can't take it. If your answer is "I really just need a job and while I don't think this is my carer I think I could do this and I can commit to it for at least a couple of months while I continue to look for what I actually want to do with my life" I'd probably hire you on the spot. Well, as long as your resume was a bit more put together than the bulk of the ones that come through the inbox.)

So while looking for work sucks, looking for someone to work for you sucks too. I would love to never have to do either of these things again but I'm pretty sure both are in my future. Hopefully it gets easier each time.

Don't correct me if you know otherwise.

It's Always in the Last Place You Look

2011-08-02T19:59:00.000-07:00

Thanks for the advice asshole.

Of course it's in the last place you look. I'm not going to find something I lost and then say "Welp, found em...but I just wanna go check that other spot just to be sure."

Today's experience is losing your keys.

There are few worse feelings than that sudden realization that you don't have something important. Some of the worst things include: wallet, keys, phone, and ID. (I have at one point or another lost all of these things.)

Today it was my keys. After what had been one of the longest days at work to date I had the joy of discovering that my keys were no where to be found. First you check the normal places. Messenger bag: no. The drawer where I almost always end up leaving my keys in the spa: nope. The drawers in all the other rooms just in case I wandered in there randomly: nothing. The admin office on the 2nd floor where I often borrow other people's desks to do work since I don't have a desk of my own: Nothing. My locker and workout clothes from the morning: Empty. Frantic rechecks of all of the things because I've convinced myself that clearly I wasn't thorough enough in my initial search because I just wasn't desperate enough yet: Still no keys.

Now on my keychain I have the following:

My bike key (To the bike locked up outside in an area that I wouldn't want to leave a bike overnight.)

My house key (Who needs that?)

My car key (Which costs around $100 to duplicate...know how I know that? I've lost it before)

A bottle opener (The least of my worries)

Needles to say by this point I'm a bit more than nervous. That feeling in the pit of your stomach and that voice in the back of your brain that starts to gnaw at you saying:

"You're not going to find them. They're actually gone this time. You're going to have to go through the giant pain in the ass to replace all of these keys and in the meantime figure out how to live your life with most of the things you use daily locked away. Suck on that. Oh and PS you're hungry but you're too pissed off now to eat. How's that for the cap off to the day loser?"

Maybe that's just what my voices say but I'd guess you hear similar things.

After scouring room after room at work and being unable to find them for around an hour I called the other gym location I had been at that morning for a corporate meeting to see if anyone had brought them to lost and found. The front desk girl told me there was nothing there. I hung up. I went to recheck all the spots I'd already looked using my bike light to illuminate the dark corners in which said keys could have hidden shrouded from the ambient light of my two initial searches to no avail. I called her again and told her I didn't want to be "that guy" but could she go check the room I had been in to see if she could find them. The room is in construction mode so there wouldn't be much reason for anyone to go in there to do anything that day so who could have found my keys to bring them to lost and found? Sweetly she did just that but still nothing. Unable to trust the kind-hearted young lady on the other end of the phone I decided I had to walk up the street (about 8 blocks) to the other gym. As I drug myself up the 3 flights of stairs scanning through the areas I had walked in earlier in case they were somewhere between the entrance and the room, I held on to that tiny little piece of hope that in a trembling and high pitched voice said:

"They're up there. They really are. Your night will not end like this. The girl just didn't know where to look. You know where you were sitting. You can find these. They will be there. I promise."

I got to the room. Pulled open the door and started pushing my way through piles of unassembled Pilates Reformer machines until finally landing eyes on my precious precious keys.

It's like the feeling when you stand up too fast and all the blood rushes away from your head but without making you want to pass out. That voice which had progressively gotten louder all evening telling me I was screwed and to suck it had finally been shut up and the weak little prepubescent voice of hope finally got to be heard.

After celebrating with the front desk staff a bit I made my way back to the spa to gather my things to head out. As I strapped on my helmet, hooked my reflector on my messenger back, tucked away my wallet and phone carefully in predetermined pockets to avoid the chance I might not know where they were and readying myself for the door I realized that the bike light that I had been carrying through the streets (to see if my keys had fallen out of my pocket en route to my morning meeting) was no where to be found.

I had left it in the Pilates room.

That sweet front desk girl now knows what an idiot I actually am and I'm sure doubts my abilities not only as a manager but as a functioning human being. Sometimes I don't blame her.

The (re)Beginning!

2011-08-01T10:32:00.000-07:00

Well that sucked.

I, as predicted, did not keep up with blogging about my life. I've never been able to keep a journal and I can barely keep my laundry pile manageable. ("Manageable" translates to "not all over my floor".) I am clearly quite a success at this "being an adult" thing.

But after a bit of a blogging kick in the pants from other friends who all have topical things to discuss (cooking, crafting, non-monogomy, etc.) I realized why I could never keep up with a journalslashblog. Writing about my life with no "point" has no "goal". It has no "completion" and there's the lack of motivation when you have nothing terribly interesting to update with. ("I went to work and it sucked and I had a client and they were nice and I had some coffee before coming home to play Tiny Tower" just doesn't hold a reader's interest.)

So I wracked my brain for something topical I could motivate myself to write on. I love cooking but that market is cornered and I'm certainly not good enough to get much material past my failed abortions of the culinary variety. I just started biking the city but I'm not fanatical enough to write a blog about it. I'm gay so what about GLBT focused blog? Meh. I manage a spa, how about a massage therapy or spa based blog about upcoming trends in the spa world. (It makes me bored just reading the sentence.)

So what do I write about?

Being a travel writer was the closest label I could find that I really connected with but sadly due to time constraints and (more clearly) financial constraints, travel is not an activity I do as much as I'd like (and certainly not enough to fuel a blog). I've just got so much stuff going on. So many things to experience.

...Ding.

From henceforward, my humble corner of the blogosphere will be deemed an "Experience Blog". I plan on updating each day with some sort of "experience" from the day. I do some cool shit. I also do some excruciatingly boring shit too but so does everybody. Now, with renewed fervor and an extremely vague objective statement, I return to Ain't No Hummus in Harlan: The Experience Blog.

Posts will range in length and content from a word to a thesis. (It's clear I ramble...and use parenthesis more than someone with a strong grasp of grammar, language and sentence structure should.)

My hope is use my blog to showcase that even though I'm currently geographically sedentary that I still have all sorts of things going on, I just have to be conscious and aware of them. Riding a bike down a city street for the first time and really having the time to look around and see the beauty of a city you thought you knew. Getting hit by a car on your bike while riding down a city street for the first time and seeing that even rich and skinny white girls who drive Minis can be bitches...maybe especially rich and skinny white girls who drive Minis can be bitches. Seeing an ex at a party. Eating a disgusting meal at a fancy restaurant. Trying something new. Going somewhere new. Meeting someone new. Trying something again. Going somewhere again. Seeing someone again. "Experience blog" is perfect for me because it's a "direction" but it's the absolute vaguest direction you can imagine but one everyone can relate to. We all do shit. I'm gonna write about it.

God I hope something interesting happens tomorrow.

The Cover Letter I Want to Write

2009-09-14T12:44:00.000-07:00

Strother Gaines
2345 Underemployed Road
Washington, DC 20009
(968)-273-5263

Dear Current Job Market,

You suck and I hate you.

If you have any questions please don't hesitate to contact me. I look forward to hearing from you at your earliest convenience.

Sincerely,
--Strother Gaines--

taps on the glass Hello?

2009-08-23T10:25:00.001-07:00

Well.

Been a while.

There's nothing like having something you don't want to think about, let alone write about, happen to you to keep you from updating a blog. I guess I should have come back earlier but after I finally got to the point where I could talk about things my life got pretty busy and I hardly had the energy to ever sit down and really focus on this. Today is the first day since Bandit's death really that I've had the time, energy and focus to sit down and write here.

I assume most people who read this blog are my friends and already know about Bandit's (my English Bulldog) death. I found out on April 20th. He had been dead for 6 days before I found out. My parents told me via letter. He was hit by a train while my father was walking him off of his leash. I could do a huge post about how all of this made me feel and what a horrible time it had been after which I am only now truly starting to move past in the past month or so but I don't think that's productive for me or for anyone else. I will merely say that I will always miss Bandit, he was the best dog I could have ever asked for (even in the short period of time I got to be with him) and I will never forget the happiness he brought me and so many others.

With that dealt with, let's move on to happier things. I couldn't very well update this without touching on what had stopped me dead in my tracks but as I said, dwelling shan't do anything productive.

What has this summer been like for me? A learning experience certainly. I'm sure if I sat here and really wrote out what's been going on this would be an obnoxiously long post (as most of my posts are) so I'll try and bullet point. (If you'd rather get all this summarized in photos, go check out my facebook page, they're all over the place there.)

* Quit working at the Spy Museum after a good run and many a good friend made.
* Started working at "Segs in the City" a Segway tour company in DC. It's as nerdy and as fun as you might think. It was for a while about 20hr/wk but I now only give 3 tours in the evenings on M,T,W.
* Taught over 175 kids in 2 week sessions with Harmonia School in Oakton, VA. A pain in the ass commute but worth it for the paycheck. I will continue on with him as a PT contract teacher. If I can cobble together 20 hours worth of classes at their going hourly rate, I will be making an adequate amount of money to survive fairly comfortably here in DC. I currently have 10 scheduled and am hoping to pull in more with private lessons and extra classes. I directed "The Jungle Book" "The Little Mermaid" "The Wizard of Oz" "The Big Bad Musical" and an Improv troupe. Overall a pretty successful summer with a lot of very happy students and parents. Hopefully that happiness will translate into private lessons.
* Explored many national parks with Nick and Jeremy, expanding my cultural consciousness and helping Nick nerd out with his National Park Passport collection. Spent a great weekend camping in the Shenandoah Mountains with them as well. A great camping experience with two of my favorite people.
* Watched my best friend get married to a beautiful woman in Louisville. It was an honor to be in the wedding party and I'm nothing but ecstatic for the both of them. My two whitest white bread friends together in holy matrimony...What's not to love? They can tell me of their weekends spent studying and doing sudoku on the couch just to throw my life into sharp contrast. It's pretty amazing.
* Saw a FANTASTIC Decemberists Concert with Cathy.
* Had NUMEROUS car problems and cannot wait until I can afford payments on a new car of ANY sort.
* Had a fantastic 4th of July party. 320 degrees of fireworks (it'd be 360 but there is one spot where you couldn't really see the big ones) on the top of the roof. Around 35 of my good friends in DC and tons and tons of food. It was an AMAZING time. (For most of these exploits you can find some photos on facebook...for this one there are none as of now because most of them are totally inappropriate to share online...yeesh.)
* Went to my first gay pride celebration. It was ok. I need to try some other ones, apparently DC's pride is sorta "meh" in the scheme of things. I'd be inclined to concur.
* Spent many hours and many evenings with many wonderful people. I have never felt so socially connected in any geographic area since I graduated from Centre. I have so many amazing friends in so many different social circles. I am so thankful for all of them and for the many amazing moments I've had with them all over the past summer. I couldn't detail all of them here and do them any justice. With Harmonia combined with Segway tours I often worked 12.5 hour days during the week but what free time I have been lucky enough to have has often been filled with great people, conversations and experiences. These seemingly uneventful times have made this a truly great summer. While my life may seem like it's a little at a stand still right now, I am taking all of the things I'm experiencing, all the people I'm meeting and all of the time I've spent and learning a ton about myself and other people. I can't think of a better way to spend my time right now. (Maybe working at a high paying job that I love, but that's still a ways away I believe.)

There's a nice little ramble. You can thank Julie & Julia (one of the many great movies I've seen this summer) for re-inspiring me to blog again. Meryl Streep officially is one of my favorite actresses now. What a phenom. Now that things are back in some form of normalcy, as much as I can ever hope for at least, I'd like to resume more frequent updates. As per the norm though, no promises.

I miss you friend.

Trite and Emotional

2009-04-11T10:18:00.000-07:00

I always hate when a blog becomes some sort of sounding post for "Oh God things are so hard" or "My life, oh my life" and those sort of things. I feel like it's grasping for sympathy and feels forced.

On the other hand, writing things out seems to be a nice purge for me. With that in mind, please stop reading unless you're ready for some self-pity.

I'm having a difficult time reigning in my emotions. I've always known that I'm a "feeler" that I lead with my heart and that I put myself out there all the time, often without regard for what "could" happen. I know that I prefer to live like this because it is the only way I truly feel like I'll experience life. (How cliche.) I often scoff at those people who are totally emotionally unaware and I don't understand what kind of joy or happiness they can find when they close themselves off to fully experiencing things.

However.

The downside to putting your heart out there so freely is that it can get hurt a lot easier than if you kept it even a little guarded. My heart beats outside of my chest and I keep maybe a layer of saran wrap around it as protection. Obviously this doesn't defend from much. I invest deeply and I invest quickly in everything. I attribute part of this to my artsy-fartsy background. As an actor/musician/artist/whatever you're trained to feel as much as you can. To take pride in the fact that your emotions are your canvas and your ability to relate/feel/experience/see/love puts you in a different position than many people. I know I still believe this is a good thing. I love being who I am. I love being open. I love being intense. I love going for things even when I know it very well could fail. I love loving. There is nothing more that I want than to find someone that I can love and who will love me back deeply, passionately and without reservation. It just gets a little harder each time when you put yourself out there and it doesn't work like you might hope. I thought that this all might get a bit easier as I got used to the process but it still hurts. My processing time has gotten a bit better and I think I've been better equipped to logically think things through but logic has never been one of my strong points and even when it makes a very valid point, my heart overrules it. I can't say that I truly believe that the people who close themselves off and guard their heart so deeply are better off than I, because I certainly don't, but I can say that it might not be the worst thing in the world to try and protect yourself from feeling this kind of hurt unnecessarily.

Two new ice cream flavors you should try "Imagine Whirled Peace" and "Mission to Marzipan"
New Wine you should try "Red Guitar: Navarra Grape" and "Louis Jadot: Beaujolais-Villages"

11 lbs lighter

2009-03-22T17:23:00.000-07:00

Well weight loss is not always a positive.

Documenting the worst sickness ever. Starting on Thursday I came home from work feeling "a bit off" then as if my body decided all of a sudden it was time for a violent cleansing and that EVERYTHING MUST GO around 8 my insides all decided to come out...whichever way they could the quickest and they often didn't even take turns. My bathtub will never look at me the same. :-/

I never had a fever but at more than 3 occasions throughout the night I hallucinated that there were people in the room with me. Sometimes taking care of me (My mom, Brian, Nick and Jeremy all at different points), sometimes just standing there (the lead singer of The Bird and the Bee and Julia), at one point dancing (Karen) but obviously they never were. Also, for most of the night I couldn't stop hearing music, loudly at all points. It was a VERY strange night. I could hardly sleep and I had to run to the bathroom (thankfully right beside my room) uncountable times. Finally around 2 I mercifully passed out and woke up around 9 feeling a bit more like a human being but still not great. I still had many emergency bathroom trips. I called out from work for Saturday and Sunday just cause I can't imagine being in the middle of a tour when all of a sudden BOOM my body tells me it's time for purge again. My body is not in much of a mood to wait for anything right now.

So before I got sick I happened to weigh myself, after my body had emptied itself violently, out of curiosity I went to check and see how much I had lost in the night from hell and I was 11lbs lighter. I have to think the scale is screwy somehow but if it isn't...whoa. I'm sure it'll all be back tomorrow since I can once again hydrate but still a crazy number.

I am now finally getting over the sickness but and still a bit grumbly. I spent the whole weekend doing my best to hold down food (which never worked until today) and liquids (which worked after Friday. I have now today for the first time been able to eat real food and not feel like it was on the way back up immediately after. So progress.

Now, since sitting up at the computer is even kinda draining for me right now I'm gonna head off and go watch another episode of Six Feet Under. Season 1 was amazing but Season 2 has proven a little slow thus far. I have faith it will pick back up but it may take till Season 3.

Thank God for these pajama pants.

February 23rd

2009-03-02T15:24:00.000-08:00

I love cereal.

Since I was a little kid cereal has always been one of my favorite foods and as I've "matured" into an adult I've discovered that cereal can serve as not only breakfast but basically any other meal and/or snack. My current favorites are (in no particular order)

Honey Bunches of Oats (with or without almonds, this is a solid anytime cereal).

Cinnamon Toast Crunch (super sweet so more suited for breakfast or snack time cereal).

Fruity Pebbles (insert whatever joke you want here but these are amazing and FAR superior to cocoa pebbles in every way).

Cracklin' Oat Bran (yeah, this is an old people cereal but holy crap they're hiding a gold mine of flavor in these little square laxatives in a box...it's too expensive for what it is but when there is a COB sale you can bet I stock the cabinet).

Raisin Bran (I have no idea why...it's not particularly an amazing cereal but there is something about the texture and overall cereal experience that I like...I can't qualify this one).

(Despite two of my top 5 being bran cereals I am not constipated as this may lead you to believe.)

All of this exploration into the world of cereal stems from my discovery this morning. I awoke to a very snowy DC and thankfully did not have to go into the museum. I went downstairs for my morning cereal and poured a heaping bowl of Honey Bunches of Oats. Do you ever have a bowl of cereal where you think to yourself "Hmmm this doesn't quite taste just right..." but it doesn't taste SO off that you stop eating it? Well thus was my morning bowl. I had my cereal and powered through the semi off taste, did some yoga and watched some more Six Feet Under. Moments before posting this I decided it was dinner cereal time and I went to pour bowl #2 for the day and took the milk out of the fridge to make my meal complete. At this point I saw that it expired on Feb. 23rd...a WEEK ago.

Apparently my taste buds have died and soured milk is just a minor inconvenience for me. I just poured out my half gallon remaining of milk and ate my bowl of dry honey bunches...I think I'll have a more substantial dinner later as dry cereal just doesn't satisfy.

After writing all of this out I realize what a horribly boring post this turned out to be. Whoops. I guess when my tag for this one was "Cereal" I should have caught on.

A "Me" Day

2009-02-18T18:25:00.000-08:00

Well I got to spend this evening all by myself and I have to admit it was great.

While I love my friends and meeting new people (as I have often said) it was really a great recharge for me to be solo tonight. I got home from work and I made some dinner, watched some special feature on Sweeney Todd (a current standard on my iPod for some reason) then came upstairs to do some of my banking. (This is most certainly the low point of my evening. My credit card balance is MUCH higher than I had thought it should be. This whole part time thing has really gotta stop. It's time to catch up on my ever increasing debt. I keep telling myself the fact that I have no student loans is a huge plus but it's becoming more of an excuse than a comfort these days so time to stop that.) Banking (and mild panic attack) finished I went and ran a bath, lit a candle, put on some Iron & Wine and just laid there. I let my mind wander to anything other than money and am getting ready to go write some music if I can feel inspired. I'm off work tomorrow and will continue this "me time" with some yoga in the morning and then I'll probably rejoin the world. Not a very long retreat but a necessary one nonetheless.

Quick recap of recent memory (complete with photos):

-- Saw Avenue Q with Brian on Thursday. Loved the show with the exception of Brian (the character, not the company) who was a vapid black hole on stage. Overall though, very pleased with the show. It was everything I assumed it would be from the music.

--A nice Valentine's day with Brian (the company, not the character). I learned he's quite the cook and I'm going to try and learn as much from this little foodie as I can. He's even convinced me to start watching Good Eats with Alton Brown (he used to annoy but now ole mister Brown is growing on me).

--Went to Coco Sala (the chocolate tapas place) for restaurant week where I had a pretty solid experience. The desert was obviously the best part but the most interesting was the bacon mac and cheese with a thin slice of chocolate covered bacon resting oh so delicately on top. It actually tastes better than you probably would think. Not necessarily a food item I'll be craving anytime soon but fun to say I've had. (The photo is dark, the chocolate bacon doesn't look quite as much like poo in real life.)

-- Going back a bit further I had my League auditions. (Despite the not so shiny website, it's actually quite a big deal. My headshot/resume will be sent out to 60 different companies and about 30 or so got to see my audition.) They went pretty well all things considered. My monologue got a couple laughs and the song was fine. The accompanist FLEW through it but I stayed with him and I think pulled it off just fine. The poor girl in front of me totally blanked about 4 lines into her piece, sadly put her head down, looked up and quietly said "I'm sorry" and walked off stage. Eep. Psyched me out a bit but I just went out and did it. We'll see if anything comes of it. I was pretty proud of what I ended up putting out there and afterwards I had a fantastic day up in Silver Spring. I saw Coraline with Nick and Jeremy (holy crap don't take your children to this, it's a great movie but TERRIFYING for the kiddies) and got to hang out with Nathan and Suze at their place. Some beer, an amazing drunk breakfast at midnight and some philosophical conversation made for quite a great time. (Note: for an even more terrifying movie experience, go check out Mirrors. I watched it with Nick the other night and it's pretty friggin' intense...I'd put up a picture from that but it'd be of a woman ripping her lower jaw off in a bathtub...quite a leap from a creepy spider lady cooking omlets for a claymation blue haired little girl.)

-- Even further back and I had Cathy's birthday party which was a blast. I ruv Cathy and it was great to see her having such a good time. See facebook for photographic evidence of the shin dig.

(Side note: as part of my "Me" evening I took a break right before this to put on a face mask that Sara W. gave me. I've started actually caring about facial products and the like. I know it's pretty super homo to do the whole face mask thing but I can really see a difference in my skin. I guess that's one of the benefits to being gay, you don't have to worry about "looking gay" when you do stuff like take care of your skin. Besides, I think I kinda pull it off in a war-paint sorta way yeah?)

That should wrap it up for this edition of the ole blag. Send me some positive energy if you've got a second...I'm still waiting to hear on my potential job teaching theatre/music/visual art/dance to developmentally disabled adults with Community Concepts Inc. I should know by the end of Feb and I REALLY am hoping for it. I don't wanna talk about it too much but all that good karmic energy you can spare would do me some wonder.

PS: To anyone with lots of blog experience, editing, layout skills, let me know how my photos appear when you read the posts, I spent all sorts of time trying to reposition the photos so the layout seems clean but it looks so different in my editing window and the final published post. Is there anyway to standardize the posting or anything? *shrug* I'm not super concerned but I do like for my stuff to look nice. Help me out if ya know anything.

Because who wants a real post?

2009-02-02T16:43:00.000-08:00

So the 25 things about me meme that has been circulating facebook finally got the best of me. Combine a day off at the museum with no desire to leave my penguin pajama pants and you get a completed meme. I'll try and write something more substantial soon.

1) I always wanted to ride 10,000 Leagues Under the Sea at Disneyworld but out of the 3 times I went with my family as a kid (before the ride was closed) I threw up every time. The first time I didn’t even make it to the ride before throwing up. The 2nd time I threw up while waiting in line and the 3rd I was the NEXT PERSON to go on the ride and I threw up on a rock when the submarine surfaced.

2) I’ve played piano since I was 8 (ish). I know this one doesn’t sound that interesting but I’ve been learning that LOTS of people didn’t know this about me. I wrote a couple of dark angsty songs in high school and a couple more in college. I play primarily by ear and am only now getting semi-ok at sight reading.

3) I have a mild case of social anxiety disorder. Lots of people don’t really believe me when I say this but there are certain times when something will trigger it and I almost have a panic attack. I’ve discovered the primary times it hits are meeting new people (not surprisingly), learning new things in front of other people (specifically dancing it would seem) and of course any sort of dating situation (at least at first). I know these situations stress everyone out (for the most part) but I have a pretty intense physical reaction that I can generally keep mostly to myself. I have only fully shut down in one of these situations a couple of times but it can happen. Generally my coping mechanisms will kick in and I’ll get through it but it’s not pretty when I can’t do it.

4) I can stick my finger in my eye down to the second knuckle....same distance up my nose. I can also balance ten dollars worth of quarters in a hole I can create in my neck.

5) The day I was born there was a baby Gaines black and baby Gaines white. Guess which one my dad saw first. The nurses also nicknamed me “Baby Hollywood” because my name was so long and pretentious.

6) In the past 3 years I’ve lived in 1) Danville, KY 2) Santa Clara, CA 3) Boston, MA, 4) Louisville, KY 5) A little red truck touring through MT, WA and OR 6) Harlan, KY 7) Arlington, VA and 8) Washington DC. I think it’s time to slow it down a bit. If all things go as planned I’m sticking in DC for the foreseeable future.

7) I have learned more about myself through learning about others than I could have possibly imagined. My friends mean so much to me. I feel like every interaction I have with people, good or bad, helps shape me into the person I am to become and so far I’m pretty happy with that person. I think that social relationships are some of the most important things we can cultivate during our lives and I don’t plan on stopping anytime soon. It seems a bit selfish but I know that I grow immensely by learning about others and figuring out why they are the person they are and why they do the things they do. I’m all about comparative studies as long as you don’t feel inadequate to others/make others feel inadequate to you.

8) I ramble when I write. Hence the length of my answers.

9) I’m an experience junkie. (Stolen from Ginger’s seminar speech.) I didn’t realize it till after Ginger spoke the words and I really started thinking about it. I love trying new things and the idea of being a “student of the world”. I’d spent all my money on experience but have a difficult time buying material items (unless they’re related to said experience).

10) I grew up in Harlan, KY. The very southeastern corner of the state. 3 hours away from basically anything. I graduated in a class of 63 (the largest in years) and promptly moved away. While I could never live there again (for MULTIPLE reasons) I do think that living in such a small (and boring) place for most of my childhood really affected me today. I still open doors for everyone (even when there is a long line of people coming out that I don’t know). I try to say please and thank you as much as I can. I am incapable of wearing a hat inside. I trust that people are inherently good and that eventually they’ll find that side of them. (Not to say there aren’t people I think are douchebags but I always hold to the hope that maybe one day they’ll come around...even though it isn’t my job to bring them to that point.)

11) My dream home will have the following things. 1) A spiral staircase SOMEWHERE (it doesn’t even have to lead anywhere exciting, I just want a spiral staircase). 2) A glassblowing studio in the garage. 3) High ceilings. 4) A trampoline room where the floor is made of trampoline and the walls are that human velcro material so I can jump around on the trampoline and then throw myself up against the wall and stick there. 5) A baby grand (or grand) piano. Black of course. 6) A glass wall that looks out onto the view (view of what TBD). 7) LOTS of bookshelves full of books. 8) Art all over the place. 9) A kitchen with exposed brick and stainless steel appliances. 10) A hot tub

12) I have a nautical star tattooed on my back left shoulder. I also used to have both my ears pierced and my labret but I took them all out when I started teaching children. Apparently it is IMPOSSIBLE for children to focus when you have metal coming out of your lower lip.

13) I’m trying to learn yoga now and I’m really enjoying the process. Turns out I’m WAY more flexible than I would have imagined in some areas and just as flexible as I thought in others.

14) I love the process of creation. Whether it happen in theatre, art, music, or any other medium I am exhilarated by bringing something new to the world and all that entails.

15) When I was a child I wanted a snowcone so badly that I jumped on the back of the snowcone truck as it was driving away and rode on the bumper as my mom ran behind the truck screaming and trying to get the guy to stop who didn’t know there was an overweight kid begging for a snow cone hitching a ride. At the time they didn’t have windows in the back of the trucks, the next year they did. I’d like to think I was the reason for this upgrade. (End of the story: I got my snowcone and it was free....Tiger’s Blood of course.)

16) Nothing makes me cry like a beautiful song. Live music has a pied piper effect on me. I nearly lost it in the metro listening to an old lady playing the violin while I was waiting for the yellow line.

17) I tend to overanalyze things. I’m pretty intuitive with others which comes as a gift sometimes but others I nit pick through everything said/done/expressed/etc to try and make meaning of it all. It takes me at least 20 minutes to fall asleep because I’m thinking/processing everything from my day unless I’m physically exhausted.

18) I still harbor dreams of one day being successful in the artistic field. I would love to be a successful actor (not necessarily famous) or director. A singer in a band. A glassblower. Anything in that vein but my realistic dream is to be a professor of Dramatic Arts at a liberal arts school one day. I love teaching (as it is another form of creation) and if I could teach something I love so much to students who are so eager to learn would be a joy. It would also allow me the stability I’d like as well as the flexibility to travel and experience new things during the summer months.

19) There is a part of me who wants to be a sexual advice columnist in the style of Dan Savage. I know this is a lot more schooling and something I will NEVER be qualified to do but it would be such an amazing job. Human sexuality is fascinating to me and the study of it is alluring to say the least. (And I don’t even mean that in a sex crazed way...I mean like studying why some people repress sexual desire for cultural reasons, where those cultural reasons developed and why, what makes people pick their partner, what effect does sexuality have on human development, what exactly is monogamy and what does it mean to a relationship, what are the next cultural trends in regard to sexuality, what makes something taboo, etc. etc. I could go on.)

20) When I was 10 (or so) I had a mole removed from my scrotum because they were nervous it could be cancerous (it was not). It was frozen off and my reward from my dad was to let me go see Jurassic Park in Lexington even though I wasn’t 13 yet. (I wasn’t allowed to see PG-13 movies until I was 13....a strict rule of my childhood.) Afterwards we went to Lexington Green to have dinner and I could pick out any book I wanted from Joseph-Beth. I ate quickly and went into the store to pick out a book. Suddenly, my dinner caught up with me (spicy buffalo chicken strips) and I had to go to the bathroom THAT MOMENT. I was unfamiliar with the store so I had NO IDEA where the bathrooms were. I frantically searched the entire store until I finally found the restrooms. Now, when I found the restrooms my body began the “relaxation” process because I had been so tense and stressed while trying to find the toilet. I get inside and try to open the stall and BOTH are locked. My eyes widen and all I can say in my head is “You can’t poop your pants in Joseph-Beth, You can’t poop your pants in Joseph-Beth”. After nearly a minute of repeating my mantra I came to a moment of brief clarity where I said “Yes you can” and I did. Literally the moment I acquiesced the door opened and the guy said “It’s all yours.” I thanked him and went inside confused as to my next move since I no longer needed the toilet. I took off my pants and flipped my underwear inside out trying to clean up but it was a fruitless effort. I ended up throwing them in the corner of the stall and quickly leaving the store telling dad we had to go now. I told not a soul about this story until I was in college when I found out that nearly ALL of my friends had an embarrassing “poop your pants” story. I have never publicly aired it until now either. Enjoy. Also, if the Joseph-Beth worker who found my underwear ever reads this I owe them a beer.

21) I love water. I love swimming, waterfalls, fountains, ponds, lakes, oceans, pools, showers, nearly anything involving water. I’m adding on to # 11 and saying I also need some form of water something whether it be a koi pond or a decorative fountain (not tacky and gaudy but one of those looks like it was built into the terrain things).

22) My biggest fear is fear of failure.I know that by failing I learn but the whole process still intimidates me. I also have an irrational fear that when people learn about where I’m from that they will change their standards and expectations for me. I always feel like I have to prove myself before people learn about my past.

23) My favorite Ninja Turtle is Donatello, my favorite Ghostbuster is Egon and my favorite pokemon is jigglypuff.

24) I still love cartoons and think I always will. I also think it’s sort of a generational thing, the kids who loved cartoons got old and made adult ones just in time for me to enjoy them. I also still enjoy playing video games but not as much as I did when I was younger when I was a full out video game nerdo. I have over 60 NES games and have logged uncountable hours on many a system.

25) I didn’t really want to do this stupid thing but was tagged by so many people and had some time to kill on my Monday off that I gave in. This was a lot more work than I anticipated...If you read this whole thing I’m impressed...or creeped out. One of the two.

Obligatory Inauguration Post

2009-01-20T17:34:00.000-08:00

Well here he is. President #44 Barack Hussein Obama. See him? He's right up there in the center. He's actually waving to me in this one. We sorta had a moment.

I got to go to the inauguration and I stood right in front of the Washington Monument with about 1,999,999 others watching what was taking place about a mile away.

I could see the Capitol. I could see everyone's faces (on a jumbotron) and could hear everything in a strange echo like stereo.

Most of my friends avoided downtown DC like the plague today and I fully understand why. It was freezing cold, the metro was insane, walking anywhere near the mall or the parade route was ridiculous, it was crowded, stressful, uncomfortable and exhausting but damn I'm glad I went.

I had to be a part of this. I live in DC. There are people in the country, in the world even, who would give their left nut for the opportunity to just be in the same area code as this and I couldn't let it pass by without going out myself.

I have all sorts of hopes and thoughts about the upcoming 4 (maybe 8) years and I truly do believe that Obama can bring about some fantastic and wonderful change. (Of course, not on his own but it is nice to finally have a President that motivates the people and challenges them in a way that encourages rather than frustrates.) Will tomorrow I wake up and America be filled with Rainbows and Unicorns? No. I do sometimes fear that some people put a little too much faith into the "Change we can all believe in" but I lean on the side of it's better to be a little optimistic than to feel like your actions change nothing. Will Obama make mistakes? Yes. Will conservatives jump all over these to try and prove they were right? Yes. Will liberals hail everything he does correctly as the greatest gift e're given to the world? Yes. Politics are politics and you root for your side. It's like a giant (and much more important/influential) sport played primarily by (until recently) rich old white guys. It's easy to see how "the common man" has become somewhat disinterested and burnt out on the idea of politics. If nothing else, Obama has re-invigorated the public to turn an eye towards political ideals and the health and prosperity of our country. In my opinion, if that's the only thing he accomplishes as president, he's done something quite astounding. (Note: Here's hoping that's not the one and only achievement the Obama office can claim but I needed a good point t make and there it was.)

It was inspirational to see so many people attend the inauguration. People of all different races, religions, states, sexual orientations, creeds, dogmas, beliefs, hair styles, outerwear choices, habits, traits and other descriptive categories were in attendance. Some were very emotional, others reserved but all filled with the energy, spirit and hope tied to the day. After the 8 years of Bush many Americans felt burned out and disillusioned with the idea of our democracy. Myself included. However, he was indeed an elected official. Not just elected, but RE-elected. (Say what you will about Florida and hanging chads but if we had REALLY been motivated to steer Gore into office some improper actions (purposeful or not) in the nation's penis shouldn't have been the deciding factor. If Bush did one thing he set up a political climate that really motivated the public to take action and really campaign to make their voices heard and heard loudly.) Don't get me wrong. I am certainly not a Bush supported or anything like that, far from it...but I do think that if this idea of bi-partisanship is going to take hold, the liberal side of things really has to make an effort to reach the conservative groups on their turf a little bit. They're upset and they're ready to lash back at us with all they've got. We have to show them that even in our time of triumph that we are still good people with valid points of view. Not just tree-hugging hippie fags who want to donate money to everyone in the world so that they can plant organic corn to fuel our hybrid cars so that we can drive sick animals to the animal shelter and then make a stop off at the aborto-hut to rip out someone's fetus. No no fair conservative, we're more than that. Let's all give this working together thing a shot and see where it takes us.

Well, that got political fast. Returning to the actual experience.

I woke up at 6:45. Left the house around 7:15. Met Davis around 8. Lost all cell phone reception around 8:15 for most of the day. Got to our spot at the monument around 8:25. Waited there until the whole kit and kaboodle was over a little after one. I was uncomfortable, cramped and cold but I loved the whole thing. I am so glad I forced myself to go and I know I'll be even happier ten years from now when I can point in my kid's or grandkid's history book of an aerial view of the crowd and say "I was right there".

I teared up a couple of times (I'm an emotional douche) but it was good. I felt inspired and I really do believe that we can change this downward spiral we're currently stuck in (in so many different aspects of the country). I teared up first when the chair of the Inauguration Committee first spoke. Then again when John William's piece was performed (I loved the opening but the whole "tis a gift" variation on a theme thing didn't quite blow my skirt up). Finally, of course, I teared up a couple times during Barack's speech. I'll be damned if that man can't speak and inspire. I guess that's why they pay him the big bucks now.

Warren's invocation was boring and flat. I, of course, am somewhat biased towards him but I think even if I wasn't, I wouldn't have thought much of it. The only thing I will latch onto though is how he said SAH-SHAH(!) in the GAYEST possible way. You hate homos rev. Warren? Then stop talking like us.

Overall, I was moved and very pleased with the whole event. I considered going out tonight as I don't have to go into work but after the trek back (culminating at it's peak in an hour long bottleneck trying to exit the mall) I think I may just wall myself off from other human beings for a while. (At least until tomorrow when I go back to work at a tourist destination.)

I believe I'll come to a close. I'm going to try and start writing concisely but it seems like that's something I just don't really do so don't hold your breath. Inauguration was amazing and I'm honored and amazed I got to be a part of it. Again, Yay 2009!

Global Warming My Ass!

2009-01-16T08:19:00.001-08:00

Are you friggin' kidding me? I feel like this everytime I go out.
And yes, I know it's colder in Chicago and Boston and the South Pole but I still hate this.

Summertime in Winter

2009-01-14T07:55:00.000-08:00

Life is strange.

I know that's kind of a trite and overused way to start an entry here but I can't think of anything more appropriate.

My life has been a series of extreme highs and lows. I seem to do very little in the middle ground. Maybe that comes with age and maturity but so far my experiences have all been either WAY on the plus or WAY on the negative. I guess I kind of prefer that currently but who knows how my tastes will develop as life progresses.

Currently I just had one of those moments where I realized my life is at quite a high right now. I like to document the highs more than the lows because it's a lot more fun to revisit them. Last night I went over to Nick and Jeremy's for dinner. They have quickly become two amazing friends in my 4 short months in DC. It's remarkable how people can go from strangers to friends in such a short time. My friends, old and new, have provided me with more happiness than anything I can think of here. To be developing my home and my network in a city I love is really a fantastic feeling and something as simple as a dinner at someone's house is really beginning to mean the world to me. I woke up this morning to my Dutch roommate Geirghard (pronounced here-hard with lots of spit in the beginning) playing Summertime on the piano, followed up by Somewhere Over the Rainbow which is currently still going on. It's beautiful. He's an organist and learning to play jazz piano here in DC so I have a feeling my next 3 months will be full of some amazing music. (Note: he just did an amazing chordal progression and I got goosebumps.) Music really has a way of controlling my emotions. From walking to the metro to laying in bed before going to sleep, music plays a large part in my daily life whether or not I always acknowledge it. The visceral sound and emotion that comes from live music is one that always pulls at me and to have an amazing pianist living in my house is going to keep me on an emotional high as long as he keeps playing. I have tickets to see "Next to Normal" at Arena with Chad tonight. I have so many great friends from Centre here in DC as well. It really feels amazing to move to an area and already have a social scene around but the mix is perfect because I'm still meeting lots of amazing new people at work, at the bars and through other friends. I truly believe that one of my greatest joys is getting to know new people and learning from their experiences and their personalities. I take so much from the people I come in contact with, I hope that they get as much out of me as I do out of them.

Correction: Life is strange and beautiful.

Spring Forward, Fall Back

2009-01-02T07:15:00.000-08:00

Well peace out 2008 and hello to a brand spankin' new 2009.

I was torn whether I should do an 08 retrospective or a 2009 look to the future. After much debate I decided there was value to both so here we go.

2008 - A Retrospect

2008 was a rough year for sure but in the end most certainly a productive one. It's super cheesy but one of those lame phrases that you always hear proved very true for me this year. The strongest steel is forged in the hottest fire. (I don't even know if that's true or not but damn, doesn't it sound good?) I dealt with quite a bit this year. A really rough break up which lead to quite the life-shift/reevaluation, lots of moving around, losing a large chunk of my worldly possessions due to the carelessness and neglect of one I once thought was a friend, accumulating more debt than I've ever had, the first real lack of a theatre related job and of course coming out to my father.

I worked with The Kentucky Shakespeare Festival (Bard Buddies), The Missoula Children's Theatre (Jack and the Beanstalk), The Catclaw Theatre (Prep work mostly, more to come in 09), The University of Louisville (Titus Andronicus), and The International Spy Museum (Operation Spy Guide).

I lived in Louisville, KY, a little red truck that traveled the Pacific Northwest (which is beautiful), Harlan, KY, and Arlington, VA.

I learned a lot about what I want/need out of a relationship and a partner. I lost myself in my desire to be with someone and came out on the other side a much stronger person. I had never disappeared like that before and now that I know what it's like, I don't ever want to do it again. I know that for a relationship to work both people have to give of themselves freely but both must also be fair in what they ask of their partner. A relationship is about building a life together, not blindly forcing someone into your preexisting life. Priorities will shift around a lot and you have to be ready for that. After over a year of rebuilding my emotional health/strength I know that now I'm ready to find that person and really know how to be a good boyfriend.

I've become totally comfortable with the idea of being gay. I wrote a little bit about this in my old school livejournal which I did a horrible job keeping up with but it's a big step and I feel I should reflect a bit more on it. I guess 25 isn't super late to get comfortable in your own skin. I know lots of people who did it much earlier (kids are coming out in friggin' middle school these days) but I also know of a lot of sad people who are still denying that side of themselves well into their 40's, 50's, 60's. I know a lot of that denial came from the culture/society set up around them as they were younger and I'd like to think that the current culture/society is a bit more understanding and welcoming. Not to say that it's fully there yet but it's made significant strides in the past 30 odd years or so. The passage of Proposition 8 proves that we've still got a really long way to go but it was a mere 20 years ago that the supreme court ruled in Bowers v. Hardwick that homosexuals had no rights to privacy in their own homes. 20 years ago. We're making huge strides but just because the pace is picking up doesn't mean we should stop the race. This is a marathon and we've all got to work together to get to the finish line. The problem is, with such strong cultural backlash to the mere idea of being who you are when you're gay makes it difficult to motivate people who are still uncomfortable in their own skin to take any sort of real action. I wasn't much of a benefit to the GLBT community for the past 24 years of my life, hopefully now I can make up for some lost time and help motivate others as well. (More to say on this but I think I'll save that for a later entry.)

I love it here in DC. I got here in September and while I'm certainly in more debt than I've ever seen thanks to my credit card I am still so excited to be here. The city is huge but doesn't feel overwhelming, the architecture and layout is beautiful most everywhere, the political climate is electric right now and I have a great and ever expanding social network here in the area. I didn't think I'd be here much longer than a year or two but it seems to be shaping up to be a more long term stay for me if things go as planned. I know not to plan too stringently but I do like the idea of pushing pause on my nomad style of living for a bit.

So really 2008 was shaping up to be a pretty crappy year personally until the last couple of months when all of the hardships/trials/tribulations/whatever you want to over-dramatize them as, all came together and I saw the end result of it. Me being a much better person. I had become pretty complacent in lots of aspects of my life and had really lost my sense of self (something I had never had a problem with before). Realizing it was gone was a huge blow to my self-image and it took a really long time to maneuver my way back to it but now that I've really had to work to find it, I truly understand and value how important it is. Anytime you have to work for something, you appreciate it more than when it's just handed to you or has just always been there so now I'm pretty proud of myself and won't be tossing my self-worth to the side anytime soon. Now 2008 has become a super productive and life-shaping year. Transitions are always the hardest part in writing and in life.

And now for the worst transition ever.

2009 - Looking to the future

Resolution time. I've never really been one to make these, let alone stick to them but this year, with all my new found self-motivation and confidence I think it might be a good time to actually think about what I want out of 2009.

1) Continue on in this path of self growth. It's working out really well thus far, no reason to slow down.

2) Find a better job in DC. Not that the Spy Museum isn't a good gig, but it really doesn't pay quite enough for me to live as I would like and I'd really like some benefits please. I have an interview coming up working with the developmentally disabled as a Talent Director which would be amazing. I'm keeping every possible appendage crossed on this one.

3) Direct at least 2 new shows. I don't want to lose sight of my goal of one day being a college professor and I'll absolutely need to go back to get my MFA in Directing if I want to do this. I can be less nomadic but still take steps towards the goal line here in DC. I've got one show coming up with Catclaw for sure but I'd like to get at least one more in this year. I'd love to do 4 full lengths this year but that may be a bit ambitious.

4) Find a solid relationship. Like I said, I'm really ready to share this new found person with someone else. I would really like to have someone there beside me in 09 to share my successes and failures with. I don't want to have to settle for someone just to have companionship though so I know I'm in for a long process. Let's see what DC has in store for me.

5) Meet lots of new people. This one is pretty self explanatory. If I'm not going to be travelling all over the place and seeing new places, I'd like to meet new people and explore the world that way.

6) Get better at the piano. I've just recently realized how much I love playing the piano again and how cathartic it is for me. The new place I'm moving into in Columbia Heights has a piano in the living room so I have no excuse now not to play.

7) Write a book of short stories. I've got some ideas here and a couple of people to help out with this one. Hopefully I can at least get started this year. The blog is sort of my baby step in the writing direction, hopefully the two will inspire one another.

8) Get in the gym. I've slimmed down a bit since I moved to DC (mainly because of my 1.2 mile walk to and from the metro every day) but I think it's time to try and put on some muscle if I can. If I get a solid job somewhere, one of my first "frivolous" purchases will be a gym membership. Anytime I pay for something, I feel like I need to use it so hopefully that'll motivate me.

9) Learn lots of new things. I like the whole idea of being a "student of the world" and since I've been in DC I feel like I've grown a lot and learned lots of things about myself, the world, government and other people. I don't know exactly how to qualify this as a resolution but I write it just to remind myself to continue being open to new experience and to really take in and process everything that comes my way. Also, I must remain actively engaged in seeking out experiences, people and situations that will enhance my world view and force me to think, create, feel and debate.

10) (Just so the list is even) Volunteer for some GLBT organizations. Like I mentioned before, I haven't been very active in the community in the past because of my own fears and inadequacies but now that the climate is changing and we're gathering momentum and steam I think I need to become an active part of the movement in whatever way I can. That way in 30 years when I have kids I can tell them without shame or fear that I helped make America a better place for everyone, not just the GLBT community.

Hmmm...I guess that's a pretty good list. Of course there's a lot more that I hope to accomplish in 2009 but those are the ones that are jumping to mind right now. I've got a whole year to add to the list and I'm sure I will.

Now, I'm off to move into my awesome new place in Columbia Heights and get the hell out of Olga's house. (My landlord's name is Olga, she's Russian and really not pleasant to live with. I'm outta here.)

More to come...

Day 1

2008-12-29T07:52:00.000-08:00

Well my father has known I'm gay for just under 48 hours.

(I've been looking for a good place to start a new blog so I figured this was a pretty big milestone to touch on.)

Now for some, the coming out process isn't as difficult as it has been for me. (For others of course, it's even harder so I have no right to complain.) But some background on how this has all come to be.

I've known I was gay since 7th grade. I didn't really have a word for it but I knew that I was interested more in guys than girls and that made me different from most every other boy at Holy Trinity (as far as I knew). Now back at that point in my life I was pretty religious, not particularly because I wanted to be but because that was just what you do in Harlan. I grew up in an Episcopalian Church, went to a Southern Baptist youth group and attended a Catholic Middle School, I'd say the religious fates were stacked against me. (Or for me depending on your opinions.)

Harlan is a very conservative rural town in South Eastern KY. There's an Oscar winning documentary about it called "Harlan County, U.S.A" and I have yet to actually see it all the way through. Someday I'll sit myself down and actually watch it but I feel like I lived there so I've already got a pretty good idea about what's going on. It's a coal mining town that has basically dried up in the past 10 years or so. After returning home this Christmas I really started to see how the town has just crumbled in the past couple of years. I don't know if this has always been the case and in my youth and inexperience I just never saw how bad the situation was or if it really has been slowly falling apart since I've been gone. One of the few things that the residents of Harlan can cling to is their faith and I know exactly what that feels like.

I spent a large portion of my middle/high school years trying to pray out the gay. I went to bed every night beginning my prayers like this:

"Dear Lord, thank you for this day and everything you've given me. Please make me straight."

The prayer would continue from there on whatever topic I had for the day but every day for I'd say about 7 1/2 years, I said those words. I was ashamed of who I was and all that it entailed. I didn't want to be gay. I thought it was wrong and that if I would just try hard enough or pray hard enough or believe hard enough that I could "overcome" my "sinful desires" and live the life that God and my family wanted me to live. There were no gay role models for me, no examples of a gay man who was a success and anything other than a coke-addicted queen parading down the Castro with a feather boa on shouting at the religious right. I most certainly didn't want to be that, I thought to myself, and that was what gay was to me.

My father was always one to belittle other people. The "N word" was pretty common in my house. He called people on TV faggots. He told a family friend who had a niece who was marrying a black guy that "I would rather throw myself off a bridge than see my daughter get married to a N*****." Needless to say, not the most tolerant environment for the closeted gay kid to grow up.

So that's some of the backstory on the home life. Conservative. Religious. Small. Stifling. Etc. Etc.

I went to college in 2002 and started coming to terms with the fact that I was gay. I went to Centre College in Danville, KY (www.centre.edu) which was a great school where I had lots of AMAZING experiences. I wouldn't change my past at all, but looking back it probably wasn't the best place to discover myself as a gay man...I discovered nearly every other part of me but the gay side still sat in the closet pretty securely.

I first came out to my best friend Kate in November of my sophomore year. Not because I was proud or comfortable with it but because it was really hurting our relationship for her not to know. She was interested in me romantically and I didn't want to lie and say that I just wasn't in to her. I figured, of all people, she needed to know this. It was one of the scariest moments of my life. I had never said the words "I'm gay" to anyone other than myself before. While she took it fantastically and after it was over I felt a huge sense of relief, I still wasn't ready to come out to others. I swore her to secrecy and continued living my so called straight life in college.

So here's the deal. When you go to a school with less than 1,500 students, you know everyone and if you don't know them personally you at least know something about them. "There goes so and so, she hooked up with what's his face last night at the Phi Delt house." "Did you hear about John Doe passing out in the hallway this morning?" "Blankety-blank does crack off the toilet in their apartment, drunk sorority girl told me she saw it last week!" Etc. etc. So when a single fraternity guy has not once gone home with ONE girl EVER, when that same guy is a dramatic arts major, when that same guy is a really good dancer and that same guy is strangely non-threatening to women...people begin to talk. Sadly that same guy was so entrenched in keep up appearances that he refused to believe that anyone could think he was gay and even if they did, at least they had no real proof. I was raised to believe that unless someone is telling you "I'm gay" that you should always give them the benefit of the doubt that they were straight. I assumed everyone would do the same for me.

I started coming out to more and more people as I became more and more comfortable with the idea of other's knowing. By my senior year most of my closest friends knew and I was actually dating a great guy (long-distance) who I had met abroad in London. I was becoming more and more at ease with the idea that this was a part of me that wasn't something to be ashamed of but rather something that made me who I am. I was really happy with who I was and who I was becoming and I started to see that this person had developed as a direct result of me being gay. If I was straight, I'd be a much different person and who knows what he'd be like. I like this person quite a lot and am excited to see what becomes of him.

After graduating from College I decided I wouldn't lie about my sexuality any more with new people. I moved to CA to work with a theatre company there and I was open about having a boyfriend with anyone who asked. I didn't do the obnoxious "Hi Strother Gaines, nice to meet you, I'm a homosexual *firm handshake*" kinda deal but I never hid the fact that I had a boyfriend when asked. It was such a normal thing for me to be gay in CA that it was a refreshing change of pace that allowed me to become even more confident in the person I was. I started telling more people from my past that I was gay and eventually during the Christmas of 06 I came out to my mom. She was my first family member to know and while she did cry and told me "this feels like a death" she has since become such an amazing supportive mom. I knew she was totally ok with it when she tried to convince me to get in touch with Oprah's interior designer. "He's so handsome Strother and he has a beard which I know you like." Thanks Mom.

So it's now been about 2 years since Mom has known and my sister eventually figured it out. We just had the official talk about both of us acknowledging that we both knew the other knew. She's not particularly excited about it and strikes me as the type of person who says "Gay people are fine as long as they don't flaunt it or do it in front of me cause that's gross" kinda girl. Everyone I guess is entitled to their opinion but I'm entitled to my response as well. I don't feel any need to pursue that conversation with her any further now, she knows what's going on and she can react however she likes to it. So, now with all the members of my immediate family knowing (sans my 10 year old brother) I was starting to feel the pull to tell Dad. For my brother I told him (in between watching Home Movies Season 3) that sometimes women fall in love with women and men fall in love with men and there is nothing wrong with that. A lot of people in Harlan are going to tell you that it's wrong or gross or bad but I wanted you to know from me that they're wrong. Their opinions are misinformed and that sometimes that's just the way things happen. Who you love doesn't determine your worth or the type of person you are and it's totally fine for a man to love a man or a woman to love a woman." He said "Ok, I know that." I asked him if he knew a man could love a man or a woman a woman before I said that and he said "Yeah I knew that" and then I asked him if he thought it was wrong and he said "No, I thought it was ok. Let's watch the next episode." I had normalized the idea for him but not given him too much to process. I think he already knows I'm gay but just doesn't fully understand what that means yet. He loves me unconditionally and I know there will be no issues with him.

Dad was the only person in the world I was worried about finding out. I thought when he did I would be disowned because when I was 12 he told me that "If you ever bring home a black girl, you're out of the will and if you ever bring home a guy, I have no son." Pretty clear. While I didn't particularly enjoy going back to Harlan for holidays, I did want to be able to see my Mom and little brother so it was nerve wracking to think that I might lose that.

December 27th 2008. I woke up knowing I was going to tell Dad. I had spoken to my mom about it and she said "I've had three years to process it and I'm fine with it now. Maybe it's time he got a chance to process it too." (She's only had 2 years but I guess she meant 3 Christmases to process.) I knew that she was supportive of my decision. I started packing all my things for the trip back to DC. I came back from one trip to the car and told her I felt like I might throw up and she said she might too. If nothing else, it was comforting to know that we were in this together. I got all of my stuff in the car, hugged everyone and said goodbye then asked dad "Can I talk to you in the driveway?"

I wanted to do it outside of the house in case he started yelling or potentially hit me, that was something I didn't want my little brother to see or hear. I decided I would give all of the explanation before saying the actual words because once those hit the floor I knew he'd shut down. I took a deep breath and I gave my spiel. I don't really remember exactly what I said because I was floating somewhere outside of my body due to nerves but it was something to the effect of:

I have to tell you something and I know it isn't something you're going to be excited to hear. I've been meaning to tell you for a while but I've been scared about what your reaction was going to be. I want you to know that I'm not telling you this to prove a point, to hurt you or to just "be liberal". This is a part of who I am and if you and I are going to have any sort of real relationship it's a part of me you need to know about. I've known about this since 7th grade and it's been something that I used to pray about a lot and something that I've thought a lot about as well. I'm really proud of the person I am and who I've become and I don't like the idea of hiding any part of myself from people for fear of how they'll react. I don't know what's the easiest way for you to hear this or the best way to say it so I just will...

Deep breath

I'm gay.

*silence*

He was quite for some time. He looked down at the ground and wouldn't look at me. After a long pause he asked "How do you think I should respond to this?"

I told him I knew what I thought he would do and what I hoped he would do but I really had no idea how he actually would react.

He said "Well you're my son, so I'm not going to turn you out and I do love you but this is something I can never accept. I think it's wrong. I don't agree with the lifestyle and you can't change my opinion on that. I hope that you're not sure about this. Maybe you're not sure."

I told him if I wasn't sure I certainly wouldn't have told him. Then I asked him what he meant by "the lifestyle". I told him I wasn't your run-of-the-mill homo and I wanted him to form his opinions off my actions and my life and not his ideas of what it means to be gay.

He said he didn't know what he meant by "the lifestyle" which to me means he's either just spouting rhetoric about "the gay lifestyle" or he means anal sex and just wasn't comfortable enough to say it. (I guess I'm pretty thankful he didn't mention anal sex, I can only imagine how uncomfortable that conversation would be.)

He was silent for a bit more and I asked him how he felt. He said "It feels like a cold smack in the face and to be honest I'm ready to smack you back *makes a fist and shows it to me* so I wouldn't push this much further."

So in the scheme of things, he only threatened to hit me. He didn't actually which is a step up from what I thought he'd do so I guess there's the bright side.

I took the hint and said that I wanted to be open and honest about my life with him from now on and if he had any questions or wanted to ask me anything to please let me know because I would answer anything. He said he thought that was a good way to be but that he didn't have any questions. I told him I would call when I got back to DC to let them know I made it back safely.

We turned to walk up the stairs and our arms touched. He gave me an intensely awkward side hug but I feel like that little gesture means a lot. I hope I'm right.

So now the processing time begins for him. I called mom to tell her how it went and that Dad was going to go out to think for a while. I later called back to see if he had come back yet and he had but he had said nothing. I think he's going to go the "ignore it and it'll go away...and if it doesn't go away I at least don't have to deal with it" path. I guess that's really the best I could hope for knowing his past and his outlook. I have hope that maybe he'll one day become supportive but I don't hold on to that too tightly. The burden of hiding myself is off of me and now I am living my life totally open and honest about who I am and who I love. The constant fear of someone telling my dad is gone and I don't care who finds out that I'm gay because the one person who could have had the biggest impact on my life knows now and I'm still here. I got to a point where I realized, I'd still be here even if he did disown me. I'd still be the person I respect regardless of how he dealt with it. I think that's what gave me the courage to actually tell him.

I've got to thank all my wonderful friends for being so supportive of me during this. I have yet to experience any negative response from anyone when I came out to them and the love and support I've gotten from all of them have shaped me and brought me to this milestone in my life. I know that it is because of the people I have been privileged to meet that I am who I am and I thank each and everyone one of you for being there for me in whatever way no matter how small. I am so lucky to have such a wide spread and amazing group of people in my life and I count it as one of my biggest joys to know them all.

Well, that's enough douching out for me. I tend to get all sappy when it comes to this stuff. Enough of that. I guess thus ends my first blog entry for "Aint' No Hummus in Harlan". Hope you enjoyed, I'll do my best to post on here with some sort of frequency but I've never been too good at that. Maybe with this schnazzy new layout I'll be a bit more inspired. I've got quite a lot to write about these days too...maybe some combo of the two will make a blog. Sorry this entry has been so long, I figure the backstory is the bulk of the post and hopefully from now on I can be a bit more concise.

More to come.