I Can't Wait

This weekend's is my friend's winter party up at her cottage.

The summer party is complete madness. The winter one won't be as good, 'cause of the cold, but it will still be amazing.

I am going to drink so much and smoke so much shisha (aka hookah).

Part of me feels like going absolutely nuts, of course the other part of me is weary up me letting go of all my inhibitions, so that the asshole in me gets free (think back to 2 posts ago).

Oh well, I guess we'll see!

With this crowd, I'm gonna take tones of pictures.

Kanada in the News

OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG


Jon Stewart (The Daily Show) mentioned Canada!

We're famous!

He even mentioned Montreal!

BOOYA for feeling proud about my country and city, even though it's being completely mocked! I'm like a perfect, stereotypical kind and simple Canadian.

Here's the link for the Daily Show Episode:
http://watch.thecomedynetwork.ca/the-daily-show-with-jon-stewart/full-episodes/february-24-2009/#clip142746

It starts somewhere after the first 3 minutes.

The video might not work if you live outside of Canada, because of copyright bullshit. Also, if I do have any readers from outside of Canada and the USA, please let me know - just for interest's sake.

Empty Home, Angry Mind

I love it when the house is empty. I can bring my laptop downstairs and work in the dining room, which is at the heart of my home. I can throw a few CDs into my family's rockin' sound system and listen to the jarringly high-volume music while working or typing a post.

This is one of the reasons I am very much looking forward to my parents heading for Florida on Friday, leaving me alone in peace for over a month. Looks like their vacation is gonna give me the experience of what it feels like to live on my own in an apartment again...well, a lavish, 3 floor apartment, stocked with food I didn't pay for, with giant TVs, a good sound system and neighbors that will never bother me.

Party-house, here we come!

Swerving the topic of this post in a different direction: as I sit here I am listening to an album by The Foals. A friend told me to listen to them a while ago. I really like the band now and I'm fond of almost all the songs on their latest CD (which is a rare feat. for me).

So where am I going with this?

Well, every time I hear the Foals' music I think back to a time when I was a horrible drunken/high asshole at an acquaintance's party. I am not gonna get into the details of that night, but it's safe to say I was kicked out. Why are these two things connected? Well I went to the party when I was at the height of constantly humming one of the Foals' tunes in my head. It's a weird connection, but it's nonetheless there.

OK Thomas, why don't you just get over that mistake? Shit happens, you live you learn, right?

That is true, but this relates to something of importance right now. You see, in early January, Xav and I had a talk. The usual shit: important things, stupid things, fake things - all the good things people should talk about. I mentioned that incident, aside, as a joke of how dumb I was (it was his friends to whom I was a complete dick). Using that as a segway, we got talking about myself. Xav dropped this doosy on me:

"Before you were really Out or comfortable with yourself, you used to get really aggressive and let's-destroy-everything when you were smashed out of your mind. It was hilarious but a little over the top.

Then you started dating or seeing other gay guys, and I noticed - or more in hindsight since you didn't immediately tell use about it - your personality calmed down a lot. When you were super drunk you were just happy and hilarious.

Now, I feel when you drink excessively, you're becoming angrier again. It's not like every time you have a beer you start being an ass, but it's more more frequent. It's been increasing over the last year or so."

Xav and I proceeded to talk about why that is. It's not a difficult guess: When I am seeing other gay people or dating guys, in general I become happier. When I'm not, my personality seems to backtrack to a younger, angrier self. I haven't been on any short-term successful dating in... more than a year. Clearly, when my inhibitions are loose, my resentment and annoyance shows.

Fast forwarding to today, I'm now being a lot more careful of how I act. Whenever I drink, my mind manages to wander back to the Foal's music and the horrible night it's connected to, which become a warning to me in the moment to check my behavior. I haven't done anything horrible since the beginning of January, but still it's in the back of my mind. I want to make sure not to get any worse.

****Edit: Actually, I technically did see someone in the last 6 months: during the Fall there was Guy from the Abandoned Building, if you all recall. But that was so short and not a real relationship, as I see it.

The Eyes

"All of your expressions come through your eyes and eyebrows"

As odd as that might sound (eyebrows?), it's very true. For some people it's their mouth, for others it's their hand gestures and for others it's their face as a whole. For me, my eyes, and to a lesser extent my eyebrows, are the expressive key to my moods and intonation. If I'm sarcastic, you can hear it in my voice but it's the way I move my eyes and eyebrows that are the fix of that expression. If I'm happy or drunk, it's all in the eyes too. If I'm incredibly pissed off at someone (which is rare), it's also in my eyes. It's not that they give off the impression I'm gonna murder you, it's that the expressiveness turns off completely, so I just look empty. There's no more feedback for knowing how I'm feeling or reacting.


It's a shame that in all the photos featuring me, I box out my eyes. Just looking at my face, mouth and eyebrows aren't enough. It's really the eyes that complete any picture of mine.


I'm not about to reverse my eye-hiding policy, but I just thought like letting you all know.
You're only ever getting half the picture.

Slopes

Yesterday was the perfect days for ski/snowboarding. So we did just that.


The hill was empty because it snowed lightly all day long. People are too nervous to drive when it snowed I suppose. A normal "long" wait for the chairlift on a weekend, was instead only about 30 seconds each time.


I'm surprised I can ski backwards quickly, while taking photos.


Even today my entire body feels exhausted from the 7 hours on the slopes. It's that good kind of tired feeling though.

Consequently, I have zero motivation to do any work today. I would much rather just curl up with a guy, à la this post, while listening to music.

And That was Friday

The answer is 7.

The questions is how many times can a bar full of people stand to listen to the same N'Sync song, over and over again, before someone stops Mike from programming the jukebox to play it again.

By time number six, people started groaning loudly and yelling. By time 7, the bartender stopped giving us his dirty look and instead unplugged the the jukebox.

Hahaha, we're assholes.

Watch and Don't Learn

What makes a good friend is that even when you try to steer the ones you care about in the right direction, and then they go off course, you're still there to get them going the right way again.

Knowing this though, it's still so frustrating to see these people I care about make such poor decisions, in my opinion. It's not just once or twice - for the same type of situation, these people consistently make the same mistake over and over.

----------

When it comes to relationships, Kieran is like a superhero: he constantly searches for women that have problems and need saving. It's no secret to any of us: Kieran needs to feel needed.
Since these women have such serious issues, they inevitably lash out at people, in particular Kieran. The person he is in a relationship is both what keeps him down and what keeps him going.

This week, I covered a work-meeting for Kieran because he went to checkout a new potential apartment, for himself and his girlfriend. He's going to leave his current 2 relaxed roommates prematurely, to move in with his girlfriend of 6 months. Oh yes, let me also mention that his girlfriend has previous broken up with him 3 times before. Only once in the last 6 months though.

Moving on...

A lady-friend of mine met a guy a few years ago. Although he constantly yelled at her all the time, and was generally a misogynistic pig, she fell in love with him after 6 months. Our greater group of friends banded together in hate of him. We held a quasi-intervention, so that she realized how we all felt. The two broke up for a short period, but later got back together. In all honesty, the guy's behaviour and attitude improved. Even after 1 year of dating, when they decided to get engaged and "accidentally" have a baby, I was genuinely warming up to him.

4 months after giving birth, my friend decided to break up with the guy. He lacks ambition, was the main reason.

A few months after the break up, she has found her "soul mate" in Philadelphia and commutes down every 2nd week to visit him. She attempted to get early acceptance to a university in Philly, so as to be near her new love as much as possible. She decided she would even move in with him after 6 months of dating. Of course, she felt the baby was fine staying back here in Montreal, with her parents and the father. Who cares is she would only see him during summer break, she's in love...

Moving On...

Remember Mike? I'd be surprised if you do, because I almost never mention him. He's just never around, because he practically doesn't see anyone apart from his girlfriend these days. Tim Xav and I, his 3 closest friends, had a conversation about him the other week. Xav declared his friendship to Mike to be essentially dead. Myself and Tim took the neutral point of view that Mike is just being stupid and lazy. He makes no effort and assumes everything stays normal.

Mike sent us all a message to go out this Friday. I already know the reason why - his girlfriend went to New York for the weekend. Xav and my immediate response was "Sorry buddy, we're busy". In Montreal, buddy, or bud, are not terms of affection. We did have genuinely other plans, which Mike obviously knew nothing of since we haven't spoken to him (in person, by phone or over Facebook) in more than a month.

We all found a better suited time to meet up though. We know Mike isn't going to change any time soon, and we've accepted that we don't know how many more times him and his girlfriend will separate for a weekend.

----------

I try to make them realize they shouldn't do some of these particular things, but they're convinced they've thought it out for the best. As long as I've said what I thought, all I can do is sit back and see how it goes.

I like to think that they can keep their cool as well, when I follow my path down to that same mistake, just like them. I'm not kidding myself here, I know I'm probably just like them.

To Whey or Not to Whey

It's a fact that my body does not gain weight easily, whether it's muscle or fat. Yes, I'm sure some of you readers are right now thinking FUCK YOU THOMAS, and yes I do realize that a good 50% of the people on this planet wish they had this "problem". At this point in my life though, I find it annoying because I want to bulk up. No, I don't want to be some huge guy with muscled man-boobies, but I would like to build up a bit. Let's arbitrarily say I want to add on 15 pounds of muscle. I don't want to do this overnight, but let's say that over the next 6 months would be great (even that is quite optimistic, from the point of view of knowing my own body).

(Yes, I realize I will be losing "Hipster Points" by not being skinny. That's some fallout I'm willing to accept.)

For the last 5 months, I've been genuinely trying to add those pounds on. I've been increasing my meal portion sizes and the increasing of the percentage of protein I eat. I did notice an increase in muscle, but all the same my weight didn't change at all. From your points of view, just give me the benefit of the doubt that I'm a smart-cookie and I know the right weight lifting techniques, sets,&reps and general exercise stuff too.

Although I'm very pro going the all-natural way to weight lifting and weight gain, I need some help now. That's why, for the last few weeks, I've been strongly considering adding protein supplements to my weight-workout regime. Ok, maybe regime is a strong word...how about mild weight-lifting endeavour? Ya, that sounds more like it. Reeeaaaaaaaaaaalllllll manly way to word it too. *sarcasm* How about focused weight lifting? Hmm, I like that one.

Ok, ok, back on topic.

Specifically, I think I'm going to start taking Whey Protein.

I've done the research and there's nothing specifically bad about it. Still, I don't feel confident about just throwing my face into the powder. I'm the type of person that doesn't like to take medication or supplements, without really needing it. For example, I have Aspirin/Tylenol, but if I get a headache (which is never) I'll be a trooper and try to last through it or just go to bed.

So to give me that little push of confidence I need, I've also gone to my manly friends for their advice:

Tim has always been big into working out. He would make love to his Bowflex if he could. He started using whey protein about a month ago and he really likes it. He strongly encourages me to try the whey, or some other protein supplement, because he feels and sees that it has made a big difference for him over such a short period. His drunken catch phrase is also mildly convinsing:

"I'M GETTING HUUUUGGGGEEEEEE!"

Kieran has also always been into working out and exercise in general. Although he prefers to play ice-hockey or go zooming down the rapids of north-western Quebec, he owns all the full mini-gym set of equipment. That also includes the pull-up bar, placed conveniently in the most accessible doorway of his apartment, which I run my head into constantly. He quasi-laughed at me for suggesting taking whey protein.

"You studied the effects of large doses of protein on your kidneys and liver! You know know taking that stuff is just dumb."

He is right about the damage, but only if I'm taking a huge excess of the stuff. His alternative though wasn't a good substitute:

"Don't worry about that stuff, you'll eventually gain the weight the natural way."

Pppfffttt, fuck that - no I won't, unless you're talking about the next 50 years of growing older.


Unless anyone has something to tell me, I think I'll probably stop by the drug store and pick up some whey protein tomorrow or Friday.

Call me The V-Day DJ

Since none of my relationships have ever run over Valentine's day, I've never really given credit to the day. One or two people I know LOATH the day, because they get all whinny about "not being with anyone right now" and "how lonely it is". I'm definitely not one of those people though - at worst to me it's just another day, at best it's another great reason to have fun with friends that night.

This year was no exception, as Liz had an awesome dinner party, followed by a concert at a bar and then mechanical bull riding.

...Ya, I don't know what's up with that but we really love the mechanical bull.

The nostalgia of mentioning my ultra ugly shirt from the underwear post pushed me to unleashed it once more upon the world for V-Day. With a tie [reluctantly] added, I had to admit my getup looked pretty good. I don't understand how but it was so hideous that it was beautiful. (Is that even possible?)

Unfortunately it was someone else's camera that captured me making love to the shag-carpet wall, with my ugly/beautiful shirt

Liz added the best themed ending to the dinner: kamasutra orgy chocolates.

Click to enlarge!

We were super amazed at how graphic, well-made and delicious they were. Surprisingly, they were bought from a real chocolate store, as opposed to a sex shop. Jeez, nice find!

The night was even in approval of Xav's high standards, but I have a feeling that was because he discovered a treasure-trove of bicycle parts in an alleyway. He did what came natural to him: rummage, salvage and prepare the parts for transport to his home.


Meanwhile, I did what came most natural to me: roll on the ground joyfully in the alleyway and then play dead.


Don't judge! To each his own.

I should just go straight to bed

What would the name be for the equivalent of a Drunk Dialer, who instead of calling friends, when plastered off his ass, he surfs the internet drunk and writes stupid messages to people he knows?

Yup, that's me.

I feel like I need a nanny to make sure I go straight to bed, when coming back from a night of drinking. Otherwise, I'm at the computer writing useless shit to people. Case in point: the below post.

British Nanny Voice: "No - no - no! [Thomas's full name], you get yourself right to bed. I don't want to hear a as much as a peep or drunken burp from you. It is far too late past your bedtime for you to dittle-dattle on your computer.
Don't you give me that look, mister! Otherwise I will call your mother!"

Although I am super impressed by my drunk proof-reading skills and use of words. I even called it "Drunken Restraint" - intentional irony?

I have drunken restraint

Wait - I need to stop myself.

I'm too excite by the things I want to say - OK, calm yourself Thomas...breathe....go slowly..

Oh my gods, OK, I have nothing of value to say but I want to talk. I want to say things.


Hhhuuh, hhuuhh,

J'ai tellement des choses à te dire!

Translated from French: "I have so many things to tell you!"

Ok, I will hold off.

I will use my sober (not so much right now!) judgment and make a post tomorrow afternoon, when coherence and common-sense are my friends.

Alright, bye till then.

PS: LION IN A COMA BY ANIMAL COLLECTIVE. It grows on you.

You're Gay

Maybe I should be bothered (or enraged!) by this, but they are my close friends so we can say anything to each other. Maybe I should be more enlightened and not so stereotypical? Whatever. I don't feel like anything, regardless how taboo or inappropriate, should be unsaid. We also drank lots of Pabs (hispterdom, here I come!)...also I am probably drunk while typing this....HIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHI:

Me: I've kissed women. It wasn't that great. The last time was when [a girl's name] was drunk and wanted to makeout. I assume she wanted me to do everything cuz I'm the guy...

I'm interrupted -
Tim: See! Thomas is bisexual! He enjoys doing stuff with men and women!

Me: Um, I don't think it work like that...

I'm interrupted again -
Xav: See, I've never really felt the need to have a big ol' cock in my mouth, stabbing me in the back of the throat. Call me crazy, but...

Me: I probably wouldn't say this to other people, but honestly I really like feel of having a cock in my mouth...

I'm interrupted again x 2 -
Tim: Ok, clearly this is proof that Xav and I are straight and you are gay!

Me: What the fuck! Come on, physical skin-on-skin does not mean someone is gay or not. I'm sure that if you got a blowjob, with your eyes closed, you would still get a hard on whether it's a guy or girl. Sex doesn't matter, just whether your body reacts or..

I'm interrupted x 3 -
Tim: - You're gay! You're gay!

Xav: - You're gay You're gay!

Me: Oh god, you're both morons...

Tim & Xav together: You're gay! You're gay!

----------

Some time passes, and we're walking to meet up with some friends at the a bar. Maybe I am tipsy - maybe not.

Xav: I'm not going to sleep with some girl if I don't feel like I could have a real relationship with her...

I interrupt -
Me: - You're gay! You're gay!

Xav: what? that doesn't make sense...

I interrupt x 2 -
Me: You're gay! You're gay!

Tim: No, I understand. Since meeting [my girlfriend], I feel so different about sex and how I I approach the situation with her...

I interrupt x 3 -
Me: You're gay! You're gay!

Xav: You make no sense!

Me: HAHA! How do you like it now, Bitches!



Final Note: HIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHI!

Lots of Crotches

About a year and a half ago, Alicia started her own little photography project. I don't know why this came into being, but the project consists of her taking individual photos of her friends' crotches. Each picture goes from the person's stomach to whatever part of their legs or feet that fit in. Each person cannot be wearing pants.

Alicia's quasi-boyfriend...he didn't want his wang showing

I really have absolutely no idea why she thought of this or why she decided it was a good idea with which to follow-through, but she has shown me her collection thus far and it's actually pretty cool. Lots' O' Crotches. Each person seems to do their own this stance or pose, so each one looks very different. Obviously, everyone wears their own styles of underwear as well, which adds to variety.

I love this, because it kinds looks like this girl has a penis

She took my picture one evening when she pulled me away from the main room of a party, devoted to a sham-wedding. I wore my average ol'boxers of the time, along with my ever-so-fancy/ultra-ugly shirt to commemorate the fake marriage and cake-eating. As I recall, my oldest brother gave it to me for Christmas, a few years ago, saying "I saw this shirt and thought it was so damn ugly that I had to get it for someone - so here". Thanks oldest brother.

My legs are SO not that skinny anymore...or at least I think

So why am I recounting this? Well, every time I think of underwear (which, I don't know...happens on the occasion...) two things come into my mind: Number 1 is Alicia's future wall full of pictures of crotches & underwear. Number 2 is of how I hate Little Boy underwear.

What do I mean by Little Boy underwear? Well, those tightey-whiteys, that aren't necessarily actually white, that are ULTRA tight and have become some sort of fashion item or sexy/fetish apparel? American Apparel anyone? Ginch Gonch? Ya, those.

I HATE 'EM.
Ok, ok...maybe that's too strong of an expression. I definitely don't hate them as much as being called a pet name.

This is how it makes sense in my head:
The image of an adult (anyone above 18) wearing tight little underwear = makes me think of 6 year olds, who are actually meant to wear said underwear = which then mentally links the idea of adults and little kids = which is automatically translated to pedophilia.

So to me, Little Boy underwear = pedophilia.

Obviously, that's not true. But I can't help but think that. The last time I saw some 20-something year old guy at a gay club wearing only Little Boy underwear, who then said to me "Don't I look seeeeexxxxxxyyyy?", made me want to vomit everywhere. Well, not literally, but almost. "OH FUCK NO", was probably my drunken reply to him.

I suppose in reality, it's all really a sliding scale. Not all Little Boy underwear creeps me out. Let's say if the colour is completely black, I'll probably think it looks hot. Ya, the actual guy wearing the underwear would also sway me. Example of said exception: below


I'd say my favorite general type of underwear would be the boxer-briefs. Nothing can go wrong with those! The butt and crotch look so great with them AND the person (a.k.a. me) can walk around all their friends and family without worrying about their junk accidentally falling out. Boxer-briefs are slowing replacing my collection of boxers.

So there we have it.

Recap:
Little Boy underwear = bad.
Sham wedding = good.
Briefs = better.
Alicia's crotch photo collection = amazing.

To Austin!

Oldest Brother: Sure, it would be great to have you down here in Texas. When are thinking of coming?

Oldest Brother

Me: Well, I'm aiming for mid March, that way I can also check out the South by Southwest music festival when I'm not working or zooming around the city.

Oldest Brother: Oh nice. I got here in Austin right after the festival last year. Everyone tells me it's insane.

Me: Hopefully we can also go biking in the desert or rock-climbing or something too.

Oldest Brother, in his natural environment

Oldest Brother: Ya sure, just remember to bring your gear. Do you have your flight yet?

Me: No, but they have decent prices across the board I guess...still have to switch in Toronto though. Argh, stupid Toronto.

I'm sorry everyone, it's my duty as a Montrealer to hate Toronto.

Oldest Brother: Oh god, don't switch in Toronto. They must have flights that go through Chicago or Detroit or some other place. US customs are a lot better in American cities. In Toronto, customs are so damn slow and annoying...kind of like most Torontonians.

See, he gets it too!

I'm super excited to visit Austin, South by Southwest and by brother. Like I've said, traveling, and the planning of, both excites and centers by crazy personality. Our phone call made it obvious we're not used to talking 1-on-1, but I'll force myself to get into it - I gotta make an effort after and start somewhere. I briefly mentioned it once before: I think I'll also come out to him too. That would make a good start for my later goal of the rest of the family.

The only question that remains is which airport should I layover in? Chicago or Detroit? (I.e. which airport is more fun/bigger to roam around?)

FML

Thank you, oh Gods of the Internets, for allowing me to gaze upon this wonderful website. It is one of your most gracious and benevolent creations:


FML - Fuck My Life
http://www.fmylife.com/

It's a super simple public blog, where people post the shitty (and hilarious!) things that have happened to them. People can vote on whether the situation is their own fault or just shitty luck.

The three that made me LoL the most were:

Today, I was having sex with my girlfriend. Mid-thrust she says "I love you, Jeremy." Then in rapid succession, she fires off 2 other names. None of the names were mine. FML


Today, my boss fired me via text message. I don't have a text messaging plan. I paid $0.25 to get fired. FML


Today, I woke up next to my girlfriend. When she asked me to pick up her thong from behind my bed I realized there were two. I didn't pick up hers. FML


This will aid my procrastinating for a long time. Amen to the Lords of the Internets.

Secret Books

A new-found Sunday habit of mine is to head over to the local mega-bookstore and spend a good 2 or 3 hours perusing the shelves. I pick 3 or 4 eye-catching books out and then find myself I nice secluded corner to sit down in a read. I usually head to the sociology & community section, since the books there typically look at societal situations. They're interesting and typically too expensive (and expansive) for me to actually want to buy, so I take me time to look over them there until my attention fades and my interest has sufficiently waned.

Although not belonging to the above references section, per se, a favorite read has been the PostSecret book series. In case you live under a rock, PostSecret is , and I quote: "an ongoing community art project where people mail in their secrets anonymously on one side of a postcard." Effectively what it means is that you get to view a selection of secrets people have posted in, along with their choice of accompagnying art-work. Obviously, the theme of the entries is secrets that people are too scared to share with anyone in their own lives. The range of post cards go from loving, to heart breaking, to funny, to odd and to scary.

I, myself, actually own one of the books in the series. I don't take it out often, but it's a really good way to calm my mind when I'm feeling a little frantic. I read through the pages, digesting all these little thoughts, wishes and fears from different people. My mind slows its racing and I become calm, because they are examples of everyone's little calamities. They also give the feeling of shared experience with so many strangers.

I don't get why people don't sit on the ground more often. It just feels go good.

I'm pretty sure all of my friends also look at the weekly update to the PostSecret blog, though none of us ever talk about it. I've seen the blog URL in peoples' internet browsers and mentioned how I really like the blog. The other people present always reply that its one of their favorites too. Beyond that recognition though, we never talk about it. It's both surprising but expected: it's all about secrets and people who like it probably sympathize with the thoughts of hiding things about themselves or what they've done. So apart from saying "I like it", to really talk about the postcards that you liked the most or found terrible would probably say too much about yourself and what you potentially hide.

FireFox

I'm sure this'll make you all think I, the writer of this blog, is actually a 9 year old girl, but here it is anyway:




AAHHH, MY HEART IS MELTED

<3

A Good Drink with Xav

Xav and I hung out and drank some beers last night, before meeting up with Tim and his new girlfriend. Our 2-hour talk covered the full gambit of subjects in our lives: work, friends, sex and relationships. Nothing said was a revelation or particularly new, but it was good to take step back and look at all these things from a different perspective.

Here are two small arcs in our conversation, that I feel willing to share:

Xav: Have you ever experienced that perfect moment when you're having sex, when you stop thinking and you're just going with what's happening? From my point of view, that's the moment that I would call love-making.

Me: Honestly, no I don't think so. My mind is always so on that it's impossible for me to ever stop thinking, even during sex.

I keep going.

Me: Part of me thinks that it's because 80% of time I'm always being active. It's not that I want to dominate, because I don't. It's just that the other person almost always seems to be passive. It bothers me... you'd think it would be 50-50.

Xav: Oh ya man, I hate people who go cosmic starfish.

Me: I know - so fucking unsatisfying. I might as well just go home and masturbate, because it takes less effort and it's more satisfying.

Note for the readers: my group of friends use the expression cosmic starfish or going starfish to refer to a partner you're having sex with, who chooses to simply lie there and assume you're going to do all the work. They are like passive participants - they aren't doing anything so really it's as if you're having sex with yourself. Take my word for it: it's pretty fucking unsatisfying sex. Imagine, if you will, they are like a starfish: they're alive, although you wouldn't guess it because they're just lying spread eagle, without really moving.

Me: But in another way, I want the other person to enjoy themselves, so I can't help but keep thinking. I can't just relax.

----------

Xav: I'm looking for the person who's confident and perfect as themselves. And I just haven't found her yet. No fucked-up problems and self-esteem stuff. Just someone who is comfortable with themselves and doesn't specifically need other people.

Me: That's a really interesting way of putting it, because you're actually going against our common culture's view of relationships. Typically, relationships are seen as "Everyone needs someone else. Every person is looking for their other half, because they're not whole without him/her.

Xav: I know! For me, I want to be able to say to a girl that "I don't need you, but I do want to be with you.

This second moment was a nice reminder of why I'm very lucky, honored even, that Xav and I are such good friends. For the most part, I already knew what he told me before: he is a very independent person and I genuinely believe he doesn't need other people. Of course, he does have friends. This is because he chooses to hang out with us because he genuinely likes us. Of the literally hundreds of people who get immediately enamored upon meeting Xav (I'm not even exaggerating) and continuously offer him to come hang out, my group of friends are the lucky few that he chooses to see. It really does give me a nice, little warm feeling inside. Unlike Xav, I very much need people.

Nope, you're not subtle

I get it. No really, I do.

You both just met each other last night and felt that instant connection. You liked his short, dirty blond hair and he liked your subtle, cute smile. Maybe it was the alcohol, but you each found the other's dancing incredibly seducing. With a little flirting, it became clear pretty quickly that you both think similarly and you've both have a sharp sense of wit.

"What the heck", you both probably thought. Who cares if everyone's watching us in the bar? It's a gay-friendly place. They can handle 2 guys making out in the center of the room - and make out you guys did. I was impressive, really, by how long your tongues can keep going at each other's tonsils without needing a break.


I suppose I understand that you both couldn't wait to go back to one of each other's apartment to get your freak on. Naturally, the bar's bathroom is a convenient alternative. There's some privacy...apart from everyone going in an out. I'll also add that the toilet stall's walls are way too short. And by short, I mean I'm tall so it's impossible for me not to see you both going at it when I walk in to unload my bladder. Man, you guys will sure have a great, debaucherous story to tell your friends tomorrow.

But, did you guys really have to stay in the only toilet stall at the bar for 2 hours? Part of me found it hilarious, but the other part of me really wanted to take a shit. Let's not forget that you guys were pretty much forgetting that plenty of people needed to use that stall too. I mean, I'm sure when one of you was whispering (well, actually yelling) sweet nothings (OK, more along the lines of "Oh ya, you're so good") as the other's head mysterious disappeared (of course you were still in the stall, based on your muffled voice....were you trying to talk while eating an ice cream bar perhaps?) you didn't think anyone could notice. But I, and the entire rest of the bar, did notice.

Really, we're not perverts, but we just thought you aught to know.

Think this is Craigslist worthy?

Coworker: "Did you say you want to spoon with James Franco?"

Me: Let's watch the movie in your bed

Liz: Good idea

Some amount of time passes.

Liz: Our laughing is gonna make [her roommate] think we're fooling around.

Me: Whatever. If he asks you that, just tell him I'm gay.

Liz: That's not my job or right to do. You have to do that!

Me: I really don't mind. I don't care if you tell him.

We go back to watching Pineapple Express and enjoying James Franco's beautiful face, smile, body and butt.


Liz's new roommate is actually my co-worker.

I don't particularly care whether he knows I'm gay ( or straight). That being said, I wasn't completely honesty with Liz. I don't care if he knows however I don't want to have to go through the motions of telling him. He's not some sort of stranger either - I've invited him to hangout with friends and myself several times. He's a cool guy. But, at times when I could have easily mentioned I was gay, I avoided the situation. For example: A bunch of queer women I met a while back absolutely hate me now because they think I was hitting on them when I was drunk. The punchline of the retelling of this story is, of course, that it's some big misunderstanding because I'm gay, I have no interest in them and I was just being friendly. When telling this roommate/co-worker/friend, I conveniently left out the "I'm gay" part.

Where I'm going with this post, in fact, is that I'm not too sure how to go about the "Out at Work" situation. I mean, I don't care if Liz's roommate learns I'm gay, but I don't particularly feel the need or want to tell him because news could potentially spread through the company.

I don't think anyone would have a problem with that, but I'm just being cautious about it all. My boss does know that I'm gay. Liz, who also used to work at the same company as me, told him. That situation went something like this:

My Boss: I wonder how long Thomas and Alicia have been dating?
Here's the background reference for you guys: before Alicia left for med school in Australia, I gave her a job at my work. My boss assumed Alicia and I were dating.

Liz: What? Thomas is gay.

My Boss: Really? Well I like him even more now.

Yup, my boss is a big-time feminist and he's (I would underline "he's" but stupid blogger doesn't let me) loves diversity.

Still, I want to be careful about it all... even though I work from home so my coworkers are just names on Skype, whom I might see in person once every 3 months (Liz's roommate and other friends as exceptions). I don't think I would deny it, if someone asked me, but I just don't want to announce it to everyone.

And...I've lost my train of thought. I think this is all I had to write...Just thinking out loud as usual.

Cloning Hilarity

I was reading on article on the successful cloning of the extinct Ibex. The clone later died from lung-failure, which is common result for all clone-created animals. Although it doesn't sounds like a feasible method for the saving of extinct or near-extinct species, the idea is incredibly interesting both from the biology and conservation standpoint. Click the link below to check out the article.

http://ecoworldly.com/2009/02/01/extinct-ibex-resurrected-by-cloning-then-dies/

The Pyrenean Ibex

One comment I read, although not constructive at all to the implication of cloning an extinct animal, was absolutely hilarious:

"Hah! Now we're responsible for the specie going extinct twice!

Go Humanity!"

Awesome.
*the ecologist part of me dies a little bit*

You want to help them, but

I'm always surprised by how entertained I am by my clients from work. For doctors, researchers, psychologists/psychiatrists and clinicians, they can be pretty damn cool. I guess the whole internet-meeting and relaxed environment really breaks down their professionalism, turning them into normal human beings.

Well, most of them. Some are always dicks.

Every so often though, there's that 3rd type of person who get a hold of our association. I always feel terrible for them. From the first time I hear them speak, I can tell that I shouldn't be helping them at all.

It's not that they are bad or mean people. No, not at all - just the opposite in fact: they feel a bit too much. I would hope that all people in my bio-medical line of work care strongly about their patients. This particular kind of person I'm referring to, though, gets too deeply into their practice. It's not hard to tell either. There's a subtle desperation in their voice, that's offsetting. They need to help someone.

One woman comes to mind, from not too long ago.

Her: Well, I have my own private practice in [township East of Montreal]. I would like to incorporate EEG (a.k.a. brainwave) training in my treatments...

Instructor: Alright, we can get into that. Is there a particular specific focus for EEG training?

Her: Well, I would like to look at old age and memory loss. See, my mother has been forgetting...

Even before she mentioned her Mom, I knew beforehand that she was getting into our "tech-stuff" for the wrong reasons. You see, this 3rd type of person that I encounter through work is trying to help a member of their own family.

It's admirable and wonderful that they would go to such lengths to try and help someone. However, as much as someone, or maybe you in fact, want to help a loved one, you should never try to perform the treatment yourself. I would never expect anyone to attempt surgery on their son, but you would be surprised how many people want to buy bio-medical equipment to treat their son's intense ADHD.

One should never be emotional close to the patient. Accuse me of being detached or emotionless, but you don't think clearly and you risk doing damage. You want to get results, no matter what.

The quoted woman from above, was very insistent on wanting to help her mother push back the mental effects of old age. She wanted to start treatment immediately, without even knowing what to train or where to focus. Two lessons in, I could tell she didn't have the natural "feel" or talent to use the equipment. Even with 50 hours of training, I doubt it anything the instructor or I taught her would solidify in her mind.

I admired her for wanting to help, but I did feel bad for her. It's always best to let someone else treat someone, for whom you care deeply.

It's getting hot in here

Aaarrrgghhh, so hot.


If I'm lucky one day, I might look like that.

The Cast of the WindsThatYouRise Blog

It has come to my attention that it can be difficult for you, the reader, to remember names in my blog. Whether you're an old reader or this is the first time you've check out the blog, there is a whole lot (probably too many) posts that are relevant to understanding myself and the varied personalities/importance of the friends I reference. The purpose of this post is therefore a recap on who-is-who in the WindsThatYouRise blog.

Let me first assure you: from this point on, the cast of this blog is complete. No one else will be getting a real name from now on.

So who are these friends, who challenge me and I consider important enough to name?

Xav, Tim & Mike: the 3 close, straight guy friends I hang out with the most. Relevant posts about understanding them vis-a-vis to me are here: Unsaid Thanks, Lest We Forget and 3 separate posts for Coming Out to Tim, Xav and Mike.

Liz: close, straight female friend. She's just too awesome for me. I look up to her.

Alicia: close, straight female friends whom I went to university with, however now goes to school in Australia. She was/is very important for me relaxing in my gay skin. I see her when it's possible and we still speak relevantly with one-another.

Kieran: close straight guy friend, but in a different way from Xav/Tim/Mike. I also look up to him.

I also have my family, but I strictly refer to them as Mom, Dad, Oldest Brother and Middle Brother (with me as the Youngest Brother). You don't need to search too far for post about them. I have yet to tell them I'm gay, although I'm getting very close to saying it...

The most important member of this cast is, of course, myself. I'm not gonna go find all the relevant posts about myself, although I can point you in the right direction: the first 3-4 months of posting gives a pretty good back-story to my personality and my (ongoing) coming out.

Watching the Game

Although I'm always up for going out to play whatever sport with friends, I don't really think much (either positively or negatively) about watching them on TV. It just doesn't interest me. I love going to the Montreal Canadian's games in person - you can't help but get into the action and excitement, along with the other 20 000 people at the arena - or even baseball (back before Montreal sold the Expos), but that same feeling doesn't get translated through the TV.

Did I watch the Super Bowl last night? Well, ya. Even with my neutral feelings toward watching sports on TV, I do rack up a fair share of hours watching televised sports, in particular the Canadian's games. Of course, the only reason for this is my friends. They like watching the games (hockey, football) and hanging out. I like hanging out. Therefore, I watch the games too. Nothing wrong with ordering in greasy food, drinking beer and talking a lot, with the TV on... except when they they start obsessing over stats and hockey pools, as if they're jerking each other off.

Yes, Xav and I have created a hand signal for when Tim and Mike talk too much about their hockey pools and points: it's the ever-so appropriate signal for handjob or waking-off.

Obviously, I knew nothing about the Cardinals and Steelers leading up to the Super Bowl, so most of the night was spent making fun things. Along with Tim and another friend's sharp eyes and quick wit, we concluded that Omar Epps, who plays a doctor on the TV show House, makes a very good coach. Who knew he had the time for 2 days jobs.

Omar acting, in the top-right corner

Omar on the field

Perhaps this was a lot more hilarious after we had all drank a bit...but only a little.

On a completely unrelated note, I can't wait until 3 weeks from now when friends and I will be up at someone's cottage playing ice hockey on the lake.

I had forgotten..

It's funny how easily you can forget something that is taken for granted. A normal routine of mine has put me in this exact situation a few times this winter. I had no idea that I forgot what it was or that it was missing in the first place.

I'd be outside, making my way to the bus stop or walking around and then I'd get that strange feeling. Hmmm, what is this sensation...? It's...warm... I look down at body and focus on the source of this warmth: my hand.

The bare skin of my hand is lit-up yellow. I look up for the source, and I can see the sun.

Aaahhh, that's what it is. The sun shining on my hand.

I had forgotten what sunlight feels like.


Hahaha, yup. I forget what the sun feels like. Its happened a few times this winter too - each time the direct sunlight on my skin is so momentary and yet fleeting, that I forget about it soon after.

Montreal, and this general latitude, is by far not a land of perpetual night. My schedule of often working from home and only leaving by mid/late afternoon means I'm just never outside when it's sunny. Assuming it's not cloudy/snowing (which seems to have coincided with any adventure outside), I'm only outside in the failing light of 4pm. My lifestlye (and random chance) has practically made me avoid sunlight for 2 months!

I'm like the whitest whitey who ever whited right now.