Out of the blue, a few days ago, I got a message from my gay ex-roomie. It had been so long since we had last seen each other, so he was looking to hang out and catch-up. Although I still think we don't have much in common, I agreed to meet him at a bar to check how he was doing.
I had a pretty good time tonight with him. The conversation flowed well and it's good to hear things are going well with him.
The inevitable topic of "meeting people" came up and he asked how I was doing on the dating scene. My response was that I pretty much had no real luck. He admitted that he had thought in advance about what my answer to this question would have been. He honestly wasn't surprised that I hadn't been meeting people or going out to bars. He didn't understand how I could be so friendly outgoing but not "stepping up to the plate" with strangers. I explained to him my awkward feelings in bars on my own and that I go out to have fun with friends, as opposed to meeting random people. He seemed genuinely concerned for me and my future.
Him: "Have you ever really thought about it? You have fooled around with so few gay guy - you can even count them on your fingers!"
He continued saying that if I kept like this I wasn't going to be meeting anyone ever.
Obviously, his honesty didn't make me feel too good about myself. I kind of just shrugged it off, with no real answer.
Me: "I don't know. It'll happen when it happens", was the best I could reply.
After about 2 hours, I decided it was time to leave. I kind of felt like I had nothing else to say anyway. I got the same feeling from him.
We decided we would hang out in 2 weeks - or more like that he would give me a call. I still think we have very little in common as friends, but I would be up for going out to a gay bar/club with him. As I've said before: going with friends is very different than going alone. I have lots of fun when I'm there with at least a friend.
Part of me thinks he wants to hangout now because he's coming close to breaking up with his long-term boyfriend, as he explained. He does have the habit of losing touch with/ditching people just because he's dating someone. Another part of me thinks he wants to hangout because he feels pity for me. He wants me to have the chance of meeting someone, especially since I met my last real boyfriend 1.5 years ago through him.
Thinking about our conversation now and with his perspective on my situation, I feel down on myself. Great, thanks ex-roomie...
Either way, if he does call me: yay. If he doesn't: whatever.
Friday, January 30, 2009
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Wink & Respond
We're in a bar/club.
*Some guy winks at Xav and motions him to come over. Xav and I, who both saw that, look at each other.*
Drunk Me: "Dude! You should go for it!"
Drunk Xav: "Can you NOT live your fantasies through me!?"
Drunk Me: "Haha, oh ya, you like women!"
*Some guy winks at Xav and motions him to come over. Xav and I, who both saw that, look at each other.*
Drunk Me: "Dude! You should go for it!"
Drunk Xav: "Can you NOT live your fantasies through me!?"
Drunk Me: "Haha, oh ya, you like women!"
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Centered Again
If yesterday can be described as me freakin' out,
then today is feeling good, with my sights on 'the big plan'.
then today is feeling good, with my sights on 'the big plan'.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Rant
I need to keep busy.
I need to stay away from the internet.
I need to spend less time alone at my family's home.
I need to stop reading books by Brett Easton Ellis.
I need to spend more time with my friends.
I need to visit my brother in Texas.
I need to accept that my Mom loves having me around the house.
I need to tell-off Kieran and Liz when they dismiss the worries I share with them.
I need to run more.
I need to let go of the things I cannot change immediately.
Okay, that's a lot of things to explain. Reiteration of my blog #3306: I'm nuts. Some of these thoughts or insights have become clear to me a month ago and others have become clear in the last few days. Let's start from the top of the list.
If I have too much time on my hands and not enough to do, I end up doing three things: brooding over past events/conversations in my mind, watching useless TV or going on the internet.
I have a bad habit of falling into a routine of thinking endlessly about past things that "didn't go in my favor". It becomes a circular thought and just replays over and over again, making me feel worse about the outcome. The more I think negatively like that, the less I want to actually go and do something substantial.
The TV just makes me lazy and unfocused. Don't watch any show in particular but I get used to sitting and doing nothing...
With the internet, I end up just reading lots of blogs (that I normally don't even like) or watching porn. Either way, I'm just pointlessly reading or watching other people live out their love or sex lives, which then reminds me of what I currently don't have. This isn't healthy to get lost in negatively or live vicariously through others, so I need to get away from this. I'm not seeing any guy? - oh well, boohoo, time to get over myself. It'll happen when it happens.
Leaving the house more often is conductive to me doing something useful with my time and staying away from the internet (or at least the negative parts of it). No more surfing the net, with no real aim or interest. I should work away from home, because at home I become unfocused and then my minds wanders to *take a wild guess now* BAM! Negative stuff and porn.
Brett Easton Ellis writes some damn good books, that focus on mostly youth just wasting away without any ability to connect to others or even themselves. They do nothing, regret doing nothing but see no alternative.
Guess what I'm afraid of? There ya go: all of that. I love the two books of his I have read (Less Than Zero is terrifyingly awesome) and I'm about to finish The Rules of Attraction, but they just get my angry. Does that even make sense? I love and hate them? I mean, I described the characters to Liz once and she replied "Wow, that sounds like you." That freaked the shit out of me.
Hanging out with my friends gives me a good grip on reality and stops my mind from just brooding over things that can no longer be changed. I can tell them things and they make me relaxed. Living at home with my parents has made it difficult to see them, so I haven't been "grounded" as much as I need to be. I need my friends.
I like traveling. While away in NY and DC (and Europe last summer), I didn't over-think or brood. I was calm. Everything was clear. Staying at home for too long just gets to me. I should visit my oldest brother in Texas. I need to make an effort to reconnect with him. I also think it would be a good point to tell him I'm gay. I feel confident and relaxed about the idea of telling him.
My Mom loves talking to me when I'm at home. Her being retired, I bring variety and conversation to her potentially monotonous world. As you know, I work from home so she gets to see me a lot. As a consequence, she has begun adopting my personality and sayings a bit. The other day, she used my classic over-dramaticism and dark humour:
"Great, if that idiot calls here one more time I'm going to shoot myself in the face!"
or
Me: "OK, I'm going out. If I don't come back, call the police."
Her: "Naw, I'm not calling the police. I'm the one who arranged the hit anyway. I just want your laptop."
It's endearing. Really, it is. There's no hiding it - I like it. Although I may want to run away from the house all the time, wanting to get away from my parents is only SOMETIMES the reason. That is a good thing.
When I share some of my worries, such as parts of the above stuff, Liz and Kieran seem to have developed similar reactions: they pretend it's not a problem and dismiss it. "Naw, you're fine", combined with them changing the subject immediately.
Now, that shit is not gonna fly. I don't dominate conversations with my problems nor do I mention the particular topics often. If they don't care fine - then I'm not going to tell them these things. But I am definitely not going to be caring when they start talking about their problems. I'm also not going to hold this in: "Hey Liz/Kieran, stop being a dick by being rude to me."
As of late it's been pretty cold, so I haven't been able to go running much. Pent up energy = a mind that's too active = too much over thinking = not much sleep. I think I'll join a gym. A treadmill would do some good. I could also try using the weights, since the ones I own definitely aren't the greatest.
The most important of all: it's time to let go of this negative self-talk. I can't change the past, I can only do things now so I don't need anymore of this "busy brain" making me freak out about so much useless shit. Brett Easton Ellis? Good writer but I am definitely no Clay from Less than Zero, so let's stop that. Time to get things done. Find a plane ticket. Wake up earlier to get out of the house for some cafe-work. Workout more. Get a driver's license for a road trip this summer. Initiate that mini-business idea.
It always feels good to write things down.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Queue Leu Leu
Yesterday was a great night. An acquaintance had her birthday at this awesome bar in Old Montreal. The theme of the place is that everyone gets up onto the tables and benches to dance their heart outs. There`s a catwalk-style stage going through the center for people to jump up on as well. The more people there are up on the tables, getting their shimmy on, the more likely the MC comes over to you with free beer.
It`s safe to say the birthday girl, Xav, Tim, Mike, Mike's Girlfriend, Liz, myself and friends annihilated our poor livers with beer, while gyrating our hips in every direction on the floor, on top of tables and on stage. Every other person in the bar was going just as wild as us, so beer was constantly getting spilt over people and it wasn't uncommon to see someone slip and fall off a table. The great part is that each time someone took a dive, they just stood right back up, not worried about it and went back to dancing.
So although the below picture does make the place seem like a male strip joint, it in fact was not.
Without a doubt, I am the best/most awkward drunk, skinny guy dancer. I love it.
Music-wise, the bar is more of a traditional French-Canadian place, so they mix in Quebecois folk songs with the standard popular music. Although I don't know many French songs, nor was I in a mental state to remember some of the unknown songs blaring through the speakers last night, when Ça fait rire les oiseaux came on I went wild with the rest of the bar.
Ça fait rir' les oiseaux.
Ça fait chanter les abeilles.
Ça chasse les nuages
Et fait briller le soleil.
Ça fait rir' les oiseaux
Et danser les écureuils.
Ça rajoute des couleurs
Aux couleurs de l'arc-en-ciel.
Ça fait rire les oiseaux,
Oooooh, oooooh, ooooooh - rir' les oiseaux
Ça fait rire les oiseaux,
Oooooh, oooooh, ooooooh - rir' les oiseaux.
Ça fait chanter les abeilles.
Ça chasse les nuages
Et fait briller le soleil.
Ça fait rir' les oiseaux
Et danser les écureuils.
Ça rajoute des couleurs
Aux couleurs de l'arc-en-ciel.
Ça fait rire les oiseaux,
Oooooh, oooooh, ooooooh - rir' les oiseaux
Ça fait rire les oiseaux,
Oooooh, oooooh, ooooooh - rir' les oiseaux.
It's really the quintessential Quebec song, that is familiar to every person from this province. Everyone always joins in to sing it too, possibly because the law stipulates we have to. Don't quote me on that one though.
Feel free to copy/paste the song into google translation, if you'd like. The words are actually really stupid, but that doesn't stop the fact that the song is amazing. There's no real music video for it, but I did manage to find a random primary school concert video on YouTube, that features the song. Watch 5 year olds, dressed as bees, dance around on stage to the song!
Amazing.
The hot guy from New Years was also there. Looking back at the pictures I took from last night, clearly the drunk me really likes him since he's in most of the photos. Too bad he's very straight. Damn cute, funny, friendly straight people.
By the time we left at 3am, we all stunk of sweat, split beer and joy.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Chance
While sitting in a cafe yesterday afternoon, doing some work, a memory popped into my head. The memory was of a certain person, from a certain moment about a year ago.
Recalling it randomly like that gave me a weird chill down my back. I looked over my shoulder, to make sure he wasn't in the room.
Phew, he's wasn't. Awkward moment averted.
How random; thinking about that night, right now.
The person I'm thinking of is an acquaintance from a year ago. We knew each other as mutual friends through Kieran. Our mutual gangs of friends had hung out a few times, so we got to talking a bit. At first meeting, I immediately knew he was gay or bi - wasn't a hard guess, really. Over the few months of being acquaintances, we spoke a little more each meeting. I went to one of his productions - he's an actor. Although theater's not my thing, it was cool to watch.
Come January last year, I felt like going out to the Village. It has been a while since my last time there, since my friendship with my group of my former gay friends had continued down the road to dissolution. After all, none of us had anything in common other than sexuality.
I decided to call up this acquaintance. Maybe he could be a cool gay friend to hang out with, if I got to know him better. He thought it was a great idea, as well, to go to a gay bar and club as friends. I remember accentuating the as friends part, when making the offer. I didn't want him to get the wrong idea.
The night-of, we shared 3 pitchers together, before going to the club. We spoke a lot - or more should I say I spoke with myself a lot. Early into the night it became pretty obvious why Kieran never hung out much with this guy. He wasn't really interesting and had nothing much to say. He was definitely nice, but his personality was rather passive and bland, as opposed to active. Someone else always has to say the first thing, suggest the first idea or act first with this type of person. I pretty much said and did what I wanted, and he went along with it. Still, I did have a great time and so did he, as someone just following me in every sense of the meaning...
As last call approached, when we were later at the club, he started feeding me drinks. He also began grinding up on me a little too much. I do very much like dancing with friends and dancing close with gay friends (hey, who doesn't like touching bodies?), but he was going a little too much on me. In all honesty too, he really wasn't attractive (yes, I'm shallow and I prefer touching good looking friends and strangers. Whatever.).
Anyway, the lights soon came on, we got our jackets and headed out into the snow-swept night/morning.
We caught a taxi. I stayed in briefly, only to get to my nighttime bus stop, thereby saving myself some money. We were heading in completely different directions anyway.
So there I was. Alone on an oddly-quiet downtown street at 3:30 am. Heavy snowfall blanketed everything. You couldn't see much beyond 20 metres in front of you.
Most romantic movies these days always involve one of the characters taking a leap to win over the other person. We're all familiar with it: The person puts himself/herself out there completely, for their potential love to either affectionately accept them or bitterly reject them. It's that chance that makes the moment beautiful and intense, in movies. Of course from my point of view, it's also that chance that makes most romantic movies so corny. I blame Disney for this cultural garbage.
From the white-out, I saw a silhouette approach me from across the streets. Oh God, I thought. It's one of these chances.
I just knew it was him. He had apparently gotten out of the taxi 2 or 3 blocks after me and walked back toward my bus stop.
The silhouette became clearer, as the person approached. As I watched the figure become clearer, the gist of my thoughts were this:
Oh come on. Don't do this! It's going to be so awkward...
The silhouette, now a young man's body, began crossing the street toward me.
Ah jeez, OK Thomas.....Don't be drunk right now...be extra considerate....Hmm, I wish I was eating some pizza right now...
And then he was next to me.
Man, I really want to eat some Al-Taib pizza...
Him: Hey Thomas
Me: Hey [Acquaintance's name]
And he took his chance.
Saving the mushy-gushy stuff, here's the Cliff Notes of his speech as he exposed his drunken heart to me:
Him: I really like talking to you...you're good looking...I really understand what you mean when we spoke about familiarity and affection at the bar...I really like you...I want to go out with you...
The whole time he was telling me this, I was thinking how I really wanted to eat some pizza. Yep, I'm a bastard.
I was very understanding and nice about the circumstance. Exposing one's self like can be damaging. I explained that he was really cool but I wasn't interested in him like that. To make sure he would be OK, I then invited him to come get pizza with me from the 24H pizza place close-by. Catastrophe averted (me for) and a pizza reward - perfect!
We spoke some more at the pizza place - or I mean I spoke with myself some more. He seemed to be coping alright, considering his heart might have felt like it went through a blender after my rejection. He was still kind of drunk too, so everything is extra intense then.
We eventually went our separate ways - again.
The next morning I found a Facebook message from him, apologizing and hoping the intensely awkward moment could be forgotten and we could be friends. I ended up replying it was OK, and to not worry about the situation. I didn't actually want to be friends with him, because his personality was just really uninteresting. I did feel bad though, because he would assume I'd want to avoid him because of the chance he took. It's not like I could correct him and say:
"No, I don't care that you're infatuated with me. I actually don't want to be friends with you because you lack a personality and you're boring."
Since last year I've ran into him once or twice. I have good reasoning for wanting to dive behind a table instead of running into him at a cafe. Let me confirm: aaawwwkkkkwwwaarddddd.
Recalling it randomly like that gave me a weird chill down my back. I looked over my shoulder, to make sure he wasn't in the room.
Phew, he's wasn't. Awkward moment averted.
How random; thinking about that night, right now.
The person I'm thinking of is an acquaintance from a year ago. We knew each other as mutual friends through Kieran. Our mutual gangs of friends had hung out a few times, so we got to talking a bit. At first meeting, I immediately knew he was gay or bi - wasn't a hard guess, really. Over the few months of being acquaintances, we spoke a little more each meeting. I went to one of his productions - he's an actor. Although theater's not my thing, it was cool to watch.
Come January last year, I felt like going out to the Village. It has been a while since my last time there, since my friendship with my group of my former gay friends had continued down the road to dissolution. After all, none of us had anything in common other than sexuality.
I decided to call up this acquaintance. Maybe he could be a cool gay friend to hang out with, if I got to know him better. He thought it was a great idea, as well, to go to a gay bar and club as friends. I remember accentuating the as friends part, when making the offer. I didn't want him to get the wrong idea.
The night-of, we shared 3 pitchers together, before going to the club. We spoke a lot - or more should I say I spoke with myself a lot. Early into the night it became pretty obvious why Kieran never hung out much with this guy. He wasn't really interesting and had nothing much to say. He was definitely nice, but his personality was rather passive and bland, as opposed to active. Someone else always has to say the first thing, suggest the first idea or act first with this type of person. I pretty much said and did what I wanted, and he went along with it. Still, I did have a great time and so did he, as someone just following me in every sense of the meaning...
As last call approached, when we were later at the club, he started feeding me drinks. He also began grinding up on me a little too much. I do very much like dancing with friends and dancing close with gay friends (hey, who doesn't like touching bodies?), but he was going a little too much on me. In all honesty too, he really wasn't attractive (yes, I'm shallow and I prefer touching good looking friends and strangers. Whatever.).
Anyway, the lights soon came on, we got our jackets and headed out into the snow-swept night/morning.
We caught a taxi. I stayed in briefly, only to get to my nighttime bus stop, thereby saving myself some money. We were heading in completely different directions anyway.
So there I was. Alone on an oddly-quiet downtown street at 3:30 am. Heavy snowfall blanketed everything. You couldn't see much beyond 20 metres in front of you.
Most romantic movies these days always involve one of the characters taking a leap to win over the other person. We're all familiar with it: The person puts himself/herself out there completely, for their potential love to either affectionately accept them or bitterly reject them. It's that chance that makes the moment beautiful and intense, in movies. Of course from my point of view, it's also that chance that makes most romantic movies so corny. I blame Disney for this cultural garbage.
From the white-out, I saw a silhouette approach me from across the streets. Oh God, I thought. It's one of these chances.
I just knew it was him. He had apparently gotten out of the taxi 2 or 3 blocks after me and walked back toward my bus stop.
The silhouette became clearer, as the person approached. As I watched the figure become clearer, the gist of my thoughts were this:
Oh come on. Don't do this! It's going to be so awkward...
The silhouette, now a young man's body, began crossing the street toward me.
Ah jeez, OK Thomas.....Don't be drunk right now...be extra considerate....Hmm, I wish I was eating some pizza right now...
And then he was next to me.
Man, I really want to eat some Al-Taib pizza...
Him: Hey Thomas
Me: Hey [Acquaintance's name]
And he took his chance.
Saving the mushy-gushy stuff, here's the Cliff Notes of his speech as he exposed his drunken heart to me:
Him: I really like talking to you...you're good looking...I really understand what you mean when we spoke about familiarity and affection at the bar...I really like you...I want to go out with you...
The whole time he was telling me this, I was thinking how I really wanted to eat some pizza. Yep, I'm a bastard.
I was very understanding and nice about the circumstance. Exposing one's self like can be damaging. I explained that he was really cool but I wasn't interested in him like that. To make sure he would be OK, I then invited him to come get pizza with me from the 24H pizza place close-by. Catastrophe averted (me for) and a pizza reward - perfect!
We spoke some more at the pizza place - or I mean I spoke with myself some more. He seemed to be coping alright, considering his heart might have felt like it went through a blender after my rejection. He was still kind of drunk too, so everything is extra intense then.
We eventually went our separate ways - again.
The next morning I found a Facebook message from him, apologizing and hoping the intensely awkward moment could be forgotten and we could be friends. I ended up replying it was OK, and to not worry about the situation. I didn't actually want to be friends with him, because his personality was just really uninteresting. I did feel bad though, because he would assume I'd want to avoid him because of the chance he took. It's not like I could correct him and say:
"No, I don't care that you're infatuated with me. I actually don't want to be friends with you because you lack a personality and you're boring."
Since last year I've ran into him once or twice. I have good reasoning for wanting to dive behind a table instead of running into him at a cafe. Let me confirm: aaawwwkkkkwwwaarddddd.
Good Ow
So wonderfully sore from ice hockey. It's surprising that my first time out has only been tonight.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Going at It Alone
While in New York, I took the chance to make my first attempt at going to a gay bar on my own.
I've lamented on-and-on about how I don't meet many gay people, and all-too-often I don't get along with the ones I do speak with (whether we just can't relate or dislike one-another). Regardless of whether maybe I'm awkward, maybe I'm unlucky or maybe they're always just crazy (or possibly all of the above), I agree with what my friends seem to say: I deserve to be happy. I want to meet more queer people, so I need to be proactive by doing something to make it happen.
Of course, it's easier said than done. Going to straight bar on my own is one thing, but going to a gay establishment on my own is another. Let me remind you all of my recently posted tryst to work at a cafe in the Village. I'm just not used to being in a specifically "gay environment" on my own. Should I feel uncomfortable about it all? No I shouldn't - and I realize that something's wrong with me for not being able to relax. The only way to get used to the situation, however, is to experience it. Everyone has to start somewhere.
So my first night in New York, I followed recommendations from a friend (you rock Guy from Chicago) by heading to a seemingly relaxed bar called Nowhere, in the East Village. I won't lie: my nervousness built up little by little that evening, before even heading out on the subway to the bar. My nerves didn't let up either. As my ID was getting checked by the bouncer, I felt really overwhelmed by the number of people crowding the bar, all talking to each other and having a good time. So many people would potentially be looking at me on my own...it just felt to weird. I ended up walking from the door, to the back of the bar and then walking straight back to the front to leave. No coat off or any pause; I just needed to get the hell out of there. My visit lasted about 30 seconds. It was all too much.
Walking back to the subway with my tail between my legs, I felt like failure. I couldn't even do something as little as going to a bar on my own, ordering a drink and hanging out for 10 minutes. A part of me even wanted to cry, as pathetic as that sounds. The feelings didn't let up any time soon. I went back to the hostel and played around with my laptop, brooding over my inadequacy. An attempt was made at writing out my feelings at the time, into a blog post, but I couldn't get anything into coherent sentences. That was a shitty night in New York.
On a short plus side, A quick "Status" update on my Facebook (yes I know, I'm LAME, though I promise I rarely puts updates there) saying "Thomas is really disappointed in himself" got a surprising number of concerned responses from friends, including Mike, Alicia and Kieran, all wondering what was wrong with me. That made me feel better.
The next day, all mistakes from the previous night were forgiven and I went about exploring New York.
Come the next night, I was at an awesome, free Los Campesinos! concert. By comparison to the gay bar from the day before, I felt pretty at ease in this hipster bar (aka "Straight" environment) for drinking and seeing the show. After a few beers of liquid courage, à la PBR, and the end of Los Campesinos!, I decided to take a 2nd crack at the Nowhere gay bar from the night before.
I took the situation much better this time: the gay bar had fewer people, much more relaxed (and boring) this night. I even took off my jacket and had enough time to lose my hostel key! I hung around for about 20 minutes, having a beer. There was no one my age there and I didn't really feel the need or want to talk to anyone, had they even been my age.
I wish I could say I had done that purely on my own, by getting over my own discomfort, but I know the beers I drank from the concert did most of it.
As a hindsight-sidenote: when hanging out there, I did notice that I was mostly just starring around at other people in the bar (well, there was nothing else to stare at..). When I think about it, I was just sizing up the other patrons and I think I was kind of acting "cruisey", not that I really know what that feels like. To be honest, it kind of creeps me out that I was feeling like I was solely checking people out and potentially inflating my own self-esteem by comparing myself to them and pretending I would actually hit on them. Odd, just odd....
For bar adventures on my own, I do have some ways to go. Maybe this isn't the right way to meet people, but at least I'm initiating something different.
I've lamented on-and-on about how I don't meet many gay people, and all-too-often I don't get along with the ones I do speak with (whether we just can't relate or dislike one-another). Regardless of whether maybe I'm awkward, maybe I'm unlucky or maybe they're always just crazy (or possibly all of the above), I agree with what my friends seem to say: I deserve to be happy. I want to meet more queer people, so I need to be proactive by doing something to make it happen.
Of course, it's easier said than done. Going to straight bar on my own is one thing, but going to a gay establishment on my own is another. Let me remind you all of my recently posted tryst to work at a cafe in the Village. I'm just not used to being in a specifically "gay environment" on my own. Should I feel uncomfortable about it all? No I shouldn't - and I realize that something's wrong with me for not being able to relax. The only way to get used to the situation, however, is to experience it. Everyone has to start somewhere.
So my first night in New York, I followed recommendations from a friend (you rock Guy from Chicago) by heading to a seemingly relaxed bar called Nowhere, in the East Village. I won't lie: my nervousness built up little by little that evening, before even heading out on the subway to the bar. My nerves didn't let up either. As my ID was getting checked by the bouncer, I felt really overwhelmed by the number of people crowding the bar, all talking to each other and having a good time. So many people would potentially be looking at me on my own...it just felt to weird. I ended up walking from the door, to the back of the bar and then walking straight back to the front to leave. No coat off or any pause; I just needed to get the hell out of there. My visit lasted about 30 seconds. It was all too much.
Walking back to the subway with my tail between my legs, I felt like failure. I couldn't even do something as little as going to a bar on my own, ordering a drink and hanging out for 10 minutes. A part of me even wanted to cry, as pathetic as that sounds. The feelings didn't let up any time soon. I went back to the hostel and played around with my laptop, brooding over my inadequacy. An attempt was made at writing out my feelings at the time, into a blog post, but I couldn't get anything into coherent sentences. That was a shitty night in New York.
On a short plus side, A quick "Status" update on my Facebook (yes I know, I'm LAME, though I promise I rarely puts updates there) saying "Thomas is really disappointed in himself" got a surprising number of concerned responses from friends, including Mike, Alicia and Kieran, all wondering what was wrong with me. That made me feel better.
The next day, all mistakes from the previous night were forgiven and I went about exploring New York.
Come the next night, I was at an awesome, free Los Campesinos! concert. By comparison to the gay bar from the day before, I felt pretty at ease in this hipster bar (aka "Straight" environment) for drinking and seeing the show. After a few beers of liquid courage, à la PBR, and the end of Los Campesinos!, I decided to take a 2nd crack at the Nowhere gay bar from the night before.
I took the situation much better this time: the gay bar had fewer people, much more relaxed (and boring) this night. I even took off my jacket and had enough time to lose my hostel key! I hung around for about 20 minutes, having a beer. There was no one my age there and I didn't really feel the need or want to talk to anyone, had they even been my age.
I wish I could say I had done that purely on my own, by getting over my own discomfort, but I know the beers I drank from the concert did most of it.
As a hindsight-sidenote: when hanging out there, I did notice that I was mostly just starring around at other people in the bar (well, there was nothing else to stare at..). When I think about it, I was just sizing up the other patrons and I think I was kind of acting "cruisey", not that I really know what that feels like. To be honest, it kind of creeps me out that I was feeling like I was solely checking people out and potentially inflating my own self-esteem by comparing myself to them and pretending I would actually hit on them. Odd, just odd....
For bar adventures on my own, I do have some ways to go. Maybe this isn't the right way to meet people, but at least I'm initiating something different.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Love AdBuster, Hate Jumpin Jammerz
While perusing a catalog I found on the train, I saw this. I am tempted to order one of these, just to beg the question: WHO IN THE RIGHT MIND BUYS AN ADULT VERSION OF A PYJAMA-ONE-PIECE?
I must admit, though, that the top-center model's enthusiasm is quite amazing.
Unrelated to the above, I love Love LOVE this article in AdBusters magazine:
Hipster: The Dead End of Western Civilization
(Don't be fooled by the fact that I love to joke about desperately trying to hard to become a hipster...which reminds me, I DESPERATELY need to buy some new extra-tight jeans).
I used to be an avid reader of AdBuster, back in highschool and CEGEP, since both of my schools had subscriptions in the library. From time to time, I take the current issue off the shelf in bookstores, and sit down to read it all. I won't pretend that "I get" or agree with all the topics they cover in each issue, but I do really like their alternative style. The articles, the art and the message...all of it is SO GOOD.
I just ordered a 1 year subscription from them. This would be the first magazine I have found worthy to subscribed to.
I must admit, though, that the top-center model's enthusiasm is quite amazing.------
Unrelated to the above, I love Love LOVE this article in AdBusters magazine:
Hipster: The Dead End of Western Civilization
(Don't be fooled by the fact that I love to joke about desperately trying to hard to become a hipster...which reminds me, I DESPERATELY need to buy some new extra-tight jeans).
I used to be an avid reader of AdBuster, back in highschool and CEGEP, since both of my schools had subscriptions in the library. From time to time, I take the current issue off the shelf in bookstores, and sit down to read it all. I won't pretend that "I get" or agree with all the topics they cover in each issue, but I do really like their alternative style. The articles, the art and the message...all of it is SO GOOD.
I just ordered a 1 year subscription from them. This would be the first magazine I have found worthy to subscribed to.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
So really, I didn't do anything
Instead of going over what I did, from hour to hour and day to day, of my week-long trip in Washington DC and New York, how about I just list the good things/fun things I noticed, overheard or learned?
Ya, I think that would be the best idea too.
Don't take anything I say seriously. Some of what I say is just a split-second, baseless observation...kind of like when some DC friends visited me here, in Montreal, and stereotyped the tiniest things to being cultural norms in the city: like everyone eats green apples, because they saw 4 people doing that when they first got off the train.
Okay, well, here we go:
- In DC, people only wear black coat/pants combos. They might have been born with them.
- NY is always cold. Subways, restaurants, lobbies, hostel rooms, cafes...no one uses heating.
- I get overlly excited when I find unintentionally-Canadian themed paraphernalia in the US.
- According to some gay man, when I'm bored and rudely listening to other peoples' conversations: "I have this theory about Black butts and German butts: they're shaped the same and that's why we both like Hugo Boss".
- The Manhattan "express" subway trains can go blow themselves.
- The DC metro makes me feel like I'm in the future.
- A Girl: "Oh, I'm sorry sir we're all out of soup... Ooohh, it looks like I just broke your heart." Yes. Yes she did.
- Calzones are fucking delicious.
- Crazy people live in "fenced-communities" in Georgetown, a.k.a. Alicia's parents.
- I should have never left Brooklyn.
- All Japanese backpackers yell out, in an extremely stereotypical accent: "Oh No! He is Sumo!" when I lift their bags up two flights of stairs, since they apparently have no muscles.
- I am never a threat, according to the US border guards. The Latina woman sitting near me, however, is always a threat to national security.
- Free Los Campesinos! concerts are extra special.
- People who commute 2 hours in the morning and then evening, to get to/from work in New York, are nuts.
- I have no shame about being creepy and taking a [bad] photo of an unsuspecting stranger, whom I think is hot. What got me? He has a an even layer of stuble, he was pretty intense into reading his book, and had eyes that made he look like a lost puppy. So cute.
- Everyone outside of DC hates everyone in DC. Vice-versa as well.
- Large amounts of fun can be had with 2$ kids gloves and a giant, hollow chocolate Santa for 95% off.
Ya, I think that would be the best idea too.
Don't take anything I say seriously. Some of what I say is just a split-second, baseless observation...kind of like when some DC friends visited me here, in Montreal, and stereotyped the tiniest things to being cultural norms in the city: like everyone eats green apples, because they saw 4 people doing that when they first got off the train.
Okay, well, here we go:
- In DC, people only wear black coat/pants combos. They might have been born with them.
- NY is always cold. Subways, restaurants, lobbies, hostel rooms, cafes...no one uses heating.
- I get overlly excited when I find unintentionally-Canadian themed paraphernalia in the US.
- According to some gay man, when I'm bored and rudely listening to other peoples' conversations: "I have this theory about Black butts and German butts: they're shaped the same and that's why we both like Hugo Boss".
- The Manhattan "express" subway trains can go blow themselves.
- The DC metro makes me feel like I'm in the future.
- A Girl: "Oh, I'm sorry sir we're all out of soup... Ooohh, it looks like I just broke your heart." Yes. Yes she did.
- Calzones are fucking delicious.
- Crazy people live in "fenced-communities" in Georgetown, a.k.a. Alicia's parents.
- I should have never left Brooklyn.
- All Japanese backpackers yell out, in an extremely stereotypical accent: "Oh No! He is Sumo!" when I lift their bags up two flights of stairs, since they apparently have no muscles.
- I am never a threat, according to the US border guards. The Latina woman sitting near me, however, is always a threat to national security.
- Free Los Campesinos! concerts are extra special.
- People who commute 2 hours in the morning and then evening, to get to/from work in New York, are nuts.
- I have no shame about being creepy and taking a [bad] photo of an unsuspecting stranger, whom I think is hot. What got me? He has a an even layer of stuble, he was pretty intense into reading his book, and had eyes that made he look like a lost puppy. So cute.
- Everyone outside of DC hates everyone in DC. Vice-versa as well.
- Large amounts of fun can be had with 2$ kids gloves and a giant, hollow chocolate Santa for 95% off.
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