It's A New Year

I can't even begin to describe the events that unfolded on New Years and the week before. What a fantastic time. And funny. Glad that Charles came to visit and we made it upto New York and came back just in time for all the parties and craziness on New Years Eve.

Wish I could write about the events of the week but I'm too lazy to go on. Lets just say that it was definitely crazy. Crazy but fun.

But before I forget..

One of my friends should thank me for providing him the possibility to crash at my place. Fortunately enough for him he never had to stay the night due to the abundance of tricks he managed to find both nights he was here.

And another friend of mine had a really hot threesome on New Years Eve which he should thank me for since I got really wasted and went home with someone else (too bad my drunken ass never managed to get an erection even when I woke up next morning).

Seems like it's going to be a good year. No sex but lots of other things to focus on. Excellent.

The Big 2-3

Quite a week it has been. The week of the big 2-3. My 23rd birthday. Getting older and wiser, slowly and surely. Unexpectedly, it turned out to be a good day. Took the day off, worked out, shopped at Georgetown (bought a scarf and a pair of mittens) and spent the afternoon reading Three Junes.

Rents called from Saudi Arabia in the wee hours of the morning (around 3 am) giving me their best, sounding extremely excited after the Umrah. Don’t remember what they exactly said since I was still half-asleep. My sisters also called and it was somewhat comforting to talk to them. I think I’m pretty lucky to have a family that cares for me this much. Too bad they didn’t show it when I was in Pakistan, but better later than never. I know they miss me a lot, especially on days like birthdays and anniversaries, wishing I was with them. And a part of me also wishes that I was with them. But we all know that its better this way. They know I’m a different person now, “too American” according to them, and would never be happy living back home. Plus I’ve made my intentions of staying here pretty clear. Honestly I’m not being selfish. I do care a lot about my family. I just wish I could show it more. And I really want to visit. After all, I have been waiting so long to see old acquaintances, show off my abundant self-confidence and off course, cruise some desi hotness.

Went out later in the evening with JMarburg, a middle-aged JAP (short for Jewish American Princess), who is becoming somewhat of a good friend. We started by going to this gay “friends of friends” happy-hour. The crowd was too old for my taste and not very cute. I did look smashing though, turning it up a notch since it was my birthday. Disappointed by the lack of beauty, we decided to leave after one beer and were soon joined by Marco, another close friend of mine, for dinner at Busboys and Poets (a new trendy restaurant bookstore/café on 14th Street). It was the first time JMarburg and Marco had met, so I wasn’t sure if they’d hit it off. But they seemed to get along fine and, with utmost generosity, ended up splitting the check between them.

Later Roman, aka the French slut, decided to join us for drinks at JRs, not my place of choice but unfortunately the only happening place on a cold Tuesday night. Roman and I have a “history” but we’ve made out peace after everything (actually Roman also has a history with El but I won’t bring that up right now). So, we’re at JR’s having drinks, when Kai called, wishing me happy birthday. I told him where I was and asked him to join us. He hurried along and I introduced him to my friends who I think seemed to feel a bit awkward around him. I think its super hard and uncomfortable to introduce a potential someone to a group of friends who have had a romantic interest in you at some point. Thinking that we needed more privacy, my entourage trickled off one by one. They didn’t really have to leave because Kai and I left JRs soon thereafter and kissed each other goodbye outside of McDonalds, amidst receiving awkward glances from random strangers.

However, I did get an email from Marco the next day with the following disclaimer:

“p.s. watch out for those southern boys. i dated one for 3 years they're fun, sweet and cute and everything, but deep down, they're dangerous”.

C T A

CTA party last weekend. A lot of unattractive gays and a couple (one or two) hot ones. Somewhat fun! Good desserts and free drinks. Was in bed by midnight which was great.

Things are quite peaceful these days. And I should be writing more. But I'm just being lazy. Been thinking a lot though.

Going to NYC next weekend for Ed's WallStreet party. Am I going to meet my future husband? Probably not.

I'm turning 23 tomorrow and all I feel is nostalgic. I've always not liked the day of my birthday. Probably because I expect too much.

Ah....

Hingis returning?

Martina Hingis is making a comeback to professional tennis? Thats huge. Read the story:

http://sports.espn.go.com/sports/tennis/news/story?id=2240719


I've really missed Hingis. Though not the most powerful, she is an extremely talented player with a brilliant down the line backhand, which also happens to be her favorite shot. Last week I saw her play Steffi Graf (undoubtedly the best women's tennis player of all time) in the '99 French Open Final and I have to say that even though Martina lost, she played like a champion. To me that is her most memorable performance. Even though Steffi proved her brilliance, Martina, with utmost effulgence, played some breathtaking tennis, showing the whole world saw that behind the arrogant front was a teenager with strong emotions.

I just hope that after all this time Martina still has the burning desire to want to be on the top and compete against the top players. One thing is for sure; she won't settle if she doesn’t do well. Either she's going to be in the top 5 or leave again. Can't wait to see you back on the court girl!!

Routine..

Loving the new routine: Waking up at 5:30, reading the paper, or a tome (usually fiction), or studying for the CFA, always followed by a workout and a visit to the sauna.

Speaking of which, why are there so many black gays in the morning at the gym? Don’t they have jobs or do they just saunter around naked in the locker rooms, sporting their above average endowments, until its time for the mostly Caucasian evening crowd to show up? I mean, I hardly see a black person in the evenings, particularly in the locker room, but I always see at least ten (an enormous number for Resluts) in the mornings. And trust me I notice these things because I am colored myself. Weird, but another good example of the DC homo-segregation.

The weekend was somewhat fun. AB was in town for Thanksgiving and we went for dinner to Rice with Kai and a couple of his friends. Later MMaring joined us and we ventured to Cobalt and Halo, which were both pretty boring. The best part of the evening was dinner. I think Kai and I have a thing going and it does help that he is cute. Plus this time AB approves, quote a contrast to the last time when he told me how much he hated El. But I don't know, I am really enjoying being by myself right now and getting my life back in order. And I do like the routine, which is strange because I was NEVER a morning person. Weird how things change as you get older...

Reading Three Junes right now. Just finished reading Love in the time of Cholera, which was a fantastic read. Garcia really impressed me with his beautiful words and the way he describes the burning desire of the main character throughout the book. Probably the best book I have read on "love" and how true love lasts no matter who comes into your life. Though I'm glad that I picked up the book from the"fiction" section of the bookstore 'cause in reality the concept of undying love is a crock of shit. Seriously.

AND I replaced by jacket with another one that costs more. I am crazy, at least sometimes.

Brangelina In Pakistan

Oh my God,

Angelina “home wrecker” Jolie and Brad “the unfaithful” Pitt are planning a trip to Pakistan to check on the victims of the earthquake disaster. Could anything be worse?

Ok, I am sure that these two are “good” people. Angelina is just being supportive, doing her duty as the U.N goodwill ambassador, trying to bring a new child in the family. Cambodia, Ethopia and now Pakistan, what a wonderfully diverse photo album that would make. But COME ON Angelina. The LAST thing these people need to see is you making a poor example of yourself by flaunting a man who you nabbed from an innocent woman.

And look at Brad, accompanying Angelina to a “third-world” country just to be a kiss-ass. I don’t understand why he never visited Pakistan, or any other disaster-struck country, ever before in his forty-three years of selfish existence. Maybe he was too busy buying beauty products, made using ingredients indigenous to third-world countries, or just cheating on his sweet and innocent wife.

Anyway, I hope these two have a good time being supportive, running around rubble, falling of rocks, asking questions, giving answers, handing out medication, and helping people “understand the difficult life of a refugee”. Word of caution: Don’t forget to pack your lifejackets. And more importantly, keep away from the Pathans. Losers!

Dumb British Pakis

A friend just sent me a link to the following story:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk/4416988.stm

These men could not be more stupid. Alcohol is NOT a reason to take someone’s life. And we’ve all been through a lot of shit and thankfully I don’t know these three personally, but they have no reason to kill an innocent bystander. I’ve been drunk several times, even blacked out, but have NEVER been violent enough to do something so irreprehensible. Or be a cause for vandalism. Self destructive, yes, but never socially destructive.

What makes things worse is that these three men British born Pakistanis. This gives the indigenous white majority another reason to condemn the influx of immigrants in the country. And unfortunately this bloody incident is going to add to the misconception of South Asians being violent assholes, which may not be a misconception, but is still far away from being a harsh reality.

Is the press exaggerating? Or was the man actually “ferociously” killed. And what about this quote shouted by one of the perpetrators: "We have killed the white man. That will teach an Englishman to interfere in Paki business."

Though this is the quote that really caught my eye: “They eschewed their parents' religion and culture - although they paid lip service to it - and chose instead to imitate their white English peers with binge drinking, sex and consumerism”.

Lets get something straight. Binge drinking, sex and consumerism do not lead to murder, if that is what the article is implying. Yes these people gave up their moral values, or at least thats what their families claim, yes these people are psychotic monsters, but no way in hell you can correlate the act of killing somebody with binge drinking, sex and consumerism.

Disturbing. Extremely…..

Relaxing Weekend

Quite a low-key weekend: dinner with JMarb at Health Bar Friday night, birthday dinner with Dan, MF and a bunch of older gays Saturday night at Old Ebbitt Grill, followed by some sober revelry at Halo. And a movie date Sunday evening to see the new Harry Potter movie, ending with some heavy making out at the end of the night.

But in spite of everything else, the best was playing tennis with Tom Sunday afternoon. And I played really well. What a great way to start the weekend.

Taste that tolerance

After the recent French riots, I’ve heard people question why similar riots are not a part of the American social scenery and why Arab immigrants assimilate better in the U.S. How are Arab immigrants in America able to climb the ladder of education and advancement when their counterparts in France are unable to do so?

According to U.S. Census Bureau, at least 3.5 million Americans are of Arab descent. Arab Americans live in all 50 states, but two thirds reside in 10 states; one third of the total live in California, New York, and Michigan. About 94% live in metropolitan areas. Los Angeles, Detroit, New York, Chicago and Washington, DC are the top five metro areas of Arab American concentration. Even though this shows that assimilating does not always mean dispersing (Arab Americans tend to live in clusters), Americans with Arab heritage have successfully integrated themselves with the wider community.

Additionally, Arab-American workers and businessmen are woven into the wider economy. According to the U.S. Census Bureau, similar to the national average, about 64 percent of Arab American adults are in the labor force; with 5 percent unemployed. Seventy three percent of working Arab Americans are employed in managerial, professional, technical, sales or administrative fields. Median income for Arab American households in 1999 was $47,000 compared with $42,000 for all households in the United States. Close to 30% of Americans of Arab heritage have an annual household income of more than $75,000, while 22% of all Americans reported the same level of income.

From the various mosques in this country to the new Arab-America museum in Dearborn, Arab-Americans have the freedom to profess their religion and celebrate their culture. I think it’s easier for immigrants to feel a part of this country especially if the locals feel they have something valuable to offer; or if they feel that these people are not acting self-righteous, imposing their values on the people around them.

However, I know that a lot of Arab-Americans are accused of “acting white”. Does that mean that they have to forsake their self-identities to wear the mark of acceptance in this country?

Immigrants from Middle Eastern countries head to highly concentrated Arab communities because they have relatives there; or, when they arrive in a big city, they may gravitate towards an area with familiar food and festivities. Contrast this with France, where the North African immigrants gravitate towards the slums because there is nowhere else for them to go. Ethnic ghettos have been formed in a country that prides itself in color-blind equality. And mass unemployment persists in a welfare system that is supposedly glued together by “social solidarity”, operating under a model of integration without recognizing the differences between various minorities.

So if you ever hear Americans complain about immigrants “stealing” away jobs, remind them of France which is feeling the wrath of immigrants who are forced to live in poverty and, to vent their frustration, follow a path of fury and destruction. We should be lucky that the U.S. has the resources and the tolerance to provide for the wider community and avoid riots based on ethnic differences.

The GM Story

Key players: General Motors (GM), Rick Wagoner, CEO

Summary: GM just announced that it will eliminate 30,000 manufacturing jobs and close nine North American plants by 2008 as part of an effort to get production in line with demand.

Popular Brands: Corvette, Chevrolet, Buick, Saab, Cadillac, Hummer

Comments: The world’s biggest carmaker is giving in; firing people even in the light of wanting to safeguard the American Dream of retiring with fat benefits. The culprit: Asian competitors, namely Toyota and Honda, and several other woes which include:

1) Recent SEC investigation for accounting errors due to improperly booking credits from suppliers

2) High labor, pension, health care and materials costs

3) Sagging demand for SUVs, largely due to higher oil prices, and by bloated plant capacity

4) Declining market share, currently at 25%, larelgy due to competition from Asian automakers

5) Possibility of a strike at Delphi Corp., its biggest parts supplier, which filed for bankruptcy protection last month. GM spun off Delphi in 1999 and could be liable for billions in pension costs for Delphi retirees.

Hopefully, closing the plants will shave off some of that excess capacity and bring demand more in line with supply. However, I see cost cutting as only the beginning to address these problems. Competition with Asian automakers is going to kill GM if it does nothing about it. But what can it do? Change its business strategy and introduce more fuel-efficient crossover and hybrid vehicles? But even then it faces intense competition from the Japanese who are currently dominating the market and are ready to drop prices to safeguard their powerful position.

GM said the plan is to achieve $7 billion in cost reductions on a running rate basis by the end of 2006. This is going to show up in the books as a "significant" restructuring charge in conjunction with the changes and any related early retirement program.

Gotta love globalization!

What a nightmare....

You know how we all have one of those nights which start out great but end up being total disasters, the memory of which remains etched in our minds for a very long time. Well, I had one of those nights this Thursday, a night that was marked by complete self-destruction on my part, ending in me losing the following items:

a) Jacket bought last month from Energie, worth four hundred dollars
b) Wallet with all my identification, including my invaluable UVA ID
c) Keys to my building, apartment and office

It was the night of the Madonna CD-release party at Hush, a restaurant in Adams Morgan that magically transforms into a gay club every Thursday. It was my first time there, and anticipating dancing drunk to the new CD, I’d been looking forward to this night all week.

I’m not going to bother talking about the “fun” since it the last thing I should be focusing on right now. But I did have a great time, I think, until they started serving free drinks between 11:30 and 12:00. Unable to control my vehement desire for free alcohol, I drank myself to the point of not remembering how or when I ended up leaving the club.

The next thing I remember is being lost, walking the streets of DC, trying to find my way back home. Oh, and off course I remember shivering uncontrollably in 30 degrees temperature, thinking where the hell my jacket was.

I guess I shouldn’t drink myself to the point where I blackout and tell my friends that I will be “fine” being by myself. Cause apparently, as far as I can remember, I was so drunk that I lost my way coming back home. And it sucks to get lost when you are drunk and don’t know where you are going.

But what sucks even more is losing your wallet AND your keys and not being able to enter your apartment even when you are outside your building. So I did what any other individual would do. Yell at my favorite neighbor, MF, and sleep at her place since my brain had completely stopped functioning at this point.

I haven’t done shit like this to myself in a while. Even after El and I broke up, I was fine, drinking moderately, not suffering any major repercussions. I guess all that changed last night. I can’t do this to myself again. I mean look at all the shit I had/have to go through; miss work, cancel credit cards, get new IDs, keys, and possibly another jacket if I feel that I am lucky or deserving enough to afford one.

But still I am thankful that I still have my job. And my life off course. As I tell myself, it could’ve been worse. A lot worse.

But at the same time a big FUCK YOU to the person who used my credit cards last night. What an asshole you are. You could’ve chosen to call me since my business card was in my wallet, but u didn’t. Instead you ended up spending $28.50 of my money at a 7-11 in Arlington, VA. Well, I hope my credit card’s fraud department really punishes your ass since you don’t have the common decency to return something that ain’t yours. Oh, AND if you also have my jacket then I hope that you get an STD from the next person that you end up sleeping with. And if you are married, I hope that your husband or wife cheats on you and ends up killing you in your sleep.

And if you are a silly faggot then I hope that your cheap ass never gets laid for the rest of your life.

But if you are a homeless person and you are using my jacket to ward off the cold, then God bless you. I have no qualms about you wearing the most expensive piece of garment that I have ever owned, which I bought last month and wore only twice, because you deserve to wear it far more than I do.

What the "In-Crowd" Knows

In an article published yesterday, the WSJ declared a couple of blogs as being excellent resources for news and views. Personally I think that most of these blogs are crap but then again who am I to judge. At least they provide me something to do, unlike my boss, while I am at work, for instance right now, twiddling my thumbs, itching to go home and do something productive with my day. Wasting away, but at least getting a pay check out of it. But like I said before, and like I always say, I’m only doing this right now so that I can move on to do the things that I really want to do. I DO have a plan, I promise. Not saying that life will follow this plan, but still it’s still nice to hope that my current strife is for a greater reason. Anyways, more importantly, here’s the list:

Real Estate: curbed.com

Advertising: adrants.com

Wall Street: www.footnoted.org, jeffmatthewsisnotmakingthisup.blogspot.com

Music: lefsetz.com

Hollywood: defamer.com

Publishing: bookslut.com

Economics: bigpicture.typepad.com

Accounting: www.accountingobserver.com/blog/

Ok, I’m going to stop. But check these out when you get a chance. I’ll do the same; hopefully, NOT when I’m supposed to be working.

She's back - With a Confession

A BIG rave to Madonna’s new album Confessions on a Dance Floor, which, if not her best, is the gayest and the grooviest albums that she has produced. The queen of pop truly shines in this wonderful production and shows us why she is still a force to be reckoned with. This is EXACTLY the kind of music that makes me stomp my feet on the treadmills at ReSluts (the gayborhood gym) or the dance floor at Cobalt. And I just LOVE how the entire album flows from one track to the next, giving it a distinct ministry of sound flavor. So as we've all been waiting, here is a quick review of each of the tracks:

Hung Up: Catchy, groovy, really fun to dance to, particularly when remixed. Madonna looks amazing in the video. Still so flexible at 47? 4/5

Get Together: Great song; very European/Swedish with some 80’s touch to it. 4.5/5

Sorry: “I don’t wanna here, I don’t wanna know, please don’t say forgive me”. And I’m not sorry at all that this song explains exactly how I feel about my ex. Love it. 5/5

Future Lovers: One of my favorite tracks, where Madonna talks about what love is. The beat is just amazing and has this hypnotic effect on you - “In the evidence of its brilliance.” This song will stay in your head for quite a while. 4.5/5

I Love New York: Skipped this, haven’t listen to it, unfortunately.

Let It Will Be: Sounds like something that could’ve been on one of her old albums but with a more of a trancy feel to it. Love it cause it reminds me of the old Madonna. 5/5

Forbidden Love: Definitely one of my favorite songs; has this real sad daft-punk- like beat in the background. Oh and I love the lyrics. Would love to grind to this on the dance floor even though its one of the slower songs. 5/5

Jump: Ok, first of all I LOVE how the CD flows from Forbidden Love to Jump. Really well done. Jump, really really fun track. Another sign of the old Madonna (Erotica phase). This is the kind of song I need to listen to right now – “I can make it alone”. Love the lyrics (posted at the end of this entry) and the beat actually makes you jump! 4.5/5

How High: I think this would be a great concert song; can’t wait to see her perform. Whenever that is going to be… 3.5/5

Isaac: A track with a very distinct flavor with middle eastern incantations and some obvious Kabbalah influence. Song title generate a lot of controversy with the Jewish ulema but its done really well. Reminds me of her classic Frozen. 4/5

Push: Probably my favorite track of the album, if I were to choose one. Just brings a smile to my face every time I hear it. Madonna dedicated this song to her hubby, Guy Ritchie. Reminds me the difference a loved one can make in your life. And LOVE how the album moves from Isaac to Push. WOW! 5/5

Like It or Not: Only song that I didn’t like. Glad it was at the end of the album.

And as promised here are the lyrics to JUMP.

There's only so much you can learn in one place
The more that I wait, the more time that I waste

I haven't got much time to waste
It's time to make my way
I'm not afraid of what I'll face
But I'm afraid to stay
I'm going down my own road
And I can make it alone
All work and no fighting
I'll find a place of my own

Are you ready to jump
Get ready to jump
Don't ever look back, oh baby
Yes, I'm ready to jump
Just take my hands
Get ready to jump

We learned our lesson from the start, my sisters and me
The only thing you can depend on is your family
And life's gonna drop you down like the limbs of a tree
It sways and it swings and it bends until it makes you see

Are you ready to jump
Get ready to jump
Don't ever look back, oh baby
Yes, I'm ready to jump
Just take my hands
Get ready to, are you ready

There's only so much you can learn in one place
The more that you wait, the more time that you waste
All work and no fighting, I'll find a place of my own
It sways and it swings and it bends until you make it your own

I can make it alone (7x)

Ending the silence

Ok, don't hate me but I am back. After a prolonged hiatus, I'm not sure if I can even write. Or write well at least. But I owe it to all the people who read my previous entries, who I will take the liberty to call my ‘devoted’ readers, to keep on writing. And oh, off course, explain the reason for my long and sudden departure.

First of all, a couple of my entries offended some people, mostly good friends or rather close acquaintances, who complained that I was being too candid/honest and not discreet enough. Therefore, with utmost hesitation and sorrow, to preserve the sanctity of friendship, I had to remove a couple of my entries. This act, however, did leave a bad taste in my mouth making me wonder the usefulness of writing a blog when I couldn’t even express my entire self. Or reveal the true nature of the drama that ensues in the superficial and lustful world of the gays.

Secondly, and more importantly, I left because my LOSER boyfriend completely occupied ALL my F-in time, not to mention my mind and sanity. What a disaster. Actually, that’s a good word to describe our six-month rollercoaster of an abysmal relationship – di-saster , die-sass-ter or just complete madness, whatever you prefer. Anyway, I brought him up because this one time he read my blog AND my personal e-mails (screw gmail auto-logging) when he was “using” my computer to pay-off the minimum amount on his enormous credit card balance. But actually, he was spying on me, trying to discover a trace of infidelity in my innocent emails. What a violation – I mean what kind of a psychotic individual goes through your personal emails, without your consent, trying to find out if you are planning to fuck someone else on the side?

Now, keeping these two reasons in mind, I am going to make an honest effort to be more discreet. And if I still offend you then just let me know. Otherwise do yourself a favor and don’t read my entries. And as far as the problem with the boyfriend was concerned, I already took care of it. Or maybe he took care of it, breaking up with me after discovering a friendly tryst with a Georgetown graduate, who, before you make any judgments on my character, is in a LTR and who I was meeting up with to discuss the daily humiliation and the insanity of my relationship.

So Mr. Ex, if you ever read this, I am SO glad that it is over and thank you for ending our festering relationship because, as we all know, I would NEVER have had the audacity to take the final step.

So here is to starting over, and putting those thoughts back into words. And not only thoughts but actual wonderful dramatic experiences that take place daily in my life and in my gayborhood. AMEN!

Draining and Entertaining

WHAT DRAMA!

I've never had so much drama over one weekend. Seriously.

Think Queer as Folk combined with Six Feet Under.

Don't know where to start but I DO wanna write about this. This is what great stories are made of.

And he cheats

"Love means never having to say you're sorry." - Love Story, 1970

Sometimes people do things that hurt us. Other times we do things that hurt other people. Sometimes we don’t understand why the people who we care about the most disparage our feelings, completely disregarding how much we love them. Other times we disregard their feelings, in a vicious attempt for revenge, played by our emotions and animal instincts. But in the end, no matter what, we suffer the consequences of our actions, or the actions of others, trying to get used to the pain or lying to ourselves thinking that there is no pain. Or else, we try to do something about the pain, and in an attempt to end it, start a brand-new vicious cycle.

Wednesday night

The night before El’s 24th birthday. We were invited to go swimming at Constantine and Simone’s, this foreign gay couple from El’s work. Simone is this hunky picture-perfect Italian who is living in the U.S with Constantine, his Russian boyfriend who cuts hair at the Salon that El works at. They have been living together since November, which is also when they started dating since Simone had nowhere else, but the street, to live. I think that El has a crush on Simone. In fact I’m pretty sure that he does because he has told me how hot Simone is (which he is) and how he is only dating Constantine because he has no other place to stay.

Off course there was pre-drama. El was pissed at me because I arrived later than he wanted. But I was pissed at him because I waited for an hour for him to come back from tanning so that I could go to the gym when he came back. And while I was waiting I fell asleep, while he was out making plans for the evening, only letting me know at the last minute and expecting me to change all my plans. So I did what any self-respecting person would do. Go to the gym (as I had already planned on), let him do whatever the hell he wanted, and meet him later.

I arrived at Constantine’s and saw that El was heading on the road to drunkenness. He was being loud and obnoxious, though somewhat funny, despite of being annoyed with me for going to the gym without letting him now. As the clock struck twelve, we ran upstairs to the pool, me in these skimpy Speedos, with my ass bulging out and barely concealing my crotch. Actually, they were Constantine’s Speedos, who was generous enough to let me borrow them for our midnight escapade. After another drink, El jumped into the pool. Soon he was all over me, kissing me with the vigor of a new twenty-four year old. I have to admit it was nice, swimming on the rooftop under the moonlight with a beautiful boy in my arms. But I didn’t want to go too far since it would’ve been tacky to do something sexual in a swimming pool with another gay couple around us.

Around 1 o’clock El was drunk. In fact he was so drunk that he was going to pass out on the roof. After thanking our hosts for our illegal nighttime swim, I got El to put on his clothes and dragged him back to my place. As we walked, he thanked me for coming out that night and told me how much he loved me. But he said that he didn’t feel sorry at all for getting drunk because it was his birthday. Back in my apartment he started feeling sick, ran to the toilet, threw up his insides, and passed out. Feeling a little pissed, I tugged his unconscious body in bed and turned the other side, thinking how romantically the night had ended.

Thursday

Summary: El fucked someone else tonight, a boy called Stuart, who he claims is the most recent coverboy for Armani Exchange. And this was after I cooked a birthday dinner for him and let him go out to have a fun night.

Should I kill myself now?

F-in Pride!!

Gay Pride - time of the year, usually a weekend, when gay men (and dykes but they don’t count) signify utmost pride and joy in their sexual orientation.

More specifically, a weekend of festivities, where the DC gays come out in herds sporting their bare chests and chiseled biceps, showered by a sea of shallowness and vanity .

Or, if you’re me, a weekend of ugly fights with your boyfriend resulting in jealousy, anger, and ultimately blacking out at a stranger's party.

F-in Pride!!

Quote 1: "Get your trash out of our basement" - Josh asking me to get El out of his basement after he passed out due to excessive drinking at the barbecue

Quote 2: "He's just bad chicken; we hate bad chicken" - Josh still referring to El's obnoxious behavior at the barbecue

Quote 3: " You look ugly without your makeup" - Me showing my anger at El (but not remembering that I did the next day)

Quote 4: " Get out of my fucking appartment" - Something else that I said (according to El) but don't remember saying

Quote 5: "I love these 16 year olds and how they feel obligated to sleep with you after you buy them one beer" - Me talking about all the young one's at pride

Quote 6: "I know you're new to the city but you shouldn't drink so much" - Hot mysterious boy recalling my ways from the previous night

Fighter...

The bf said some really harsh words last night, some of them which were true. He told me I was a lot of potential and could be so much more if I didn't give a shit about what people think. And I am a pathetic person b/c I do care about what other people think of me. I make fun of him all the time and wants him to be a certain way. And God knows what else..I don't even want to remember...

It seems like we fight all the time. LOTS of drama. Unnecessary drama. God I don't know where to start. ...

I am going to start writing again. Soon. I sit for the CFA Exam on June 5th. After that I will have plenty of time to devote to this blog and the happening of the last 6 months.

Wish me luck!

Short goodbye

BF just left and I'm sad. I just walked him to the metro station and kissed him goodbye. I guess there won't be anoyone to come home to tonite. God, I sound like we're married already and it hasn't even been that long. But I do think that the distance will do us good. It would help us appreciate each other more and realize the value of what we have together. And it would also help me not feel like I am dependant on him every day of my life.

There's always the good memories I guess. Until we see each other again.

It's official

I'm dating a pornstar.

DIRGA?

Whenever I thought that two people would have sex in my bathroom, I always imagined that one of them would be me. However, things don't always turn out the way you expect them. And this is exactly what is happening right now. Two strangers are fucking in my bathroom at this very moment. And as I sit here writing this, I can hear the occasional "fuck me", "give it to me harder" and other sexual expressions wafting through the door. And even though it's 9pm, my "supposed to be beach-boy bf" is passed out on the bed after having drunk himself silly all day while I was at work.

WHAT THE FUCK!!!

Boys of Summer

It's been a while, just been crazy busy. Life. And I guess the only reason I am writing is because I want to keep last weekend alive forever.

It was my first time at a real beach. Can you believe it? 22 years and never been on a beach until last weekend. But it was definitely worth the wait..

Went to Rehoboth beach and met this really funny, cute, energetic country boy who kept me entertained all weekend. And it was wonderful to hold hands all weekend..among other things..which include but are not limited to a drunken midnight stroll on the beach, bloody marry brunch and offcourse the "bed" incident.

Can you really find love at the beach? Or am i just part of the "boys of summer"?

Time will tell...

BANG!

Argh…well it seems like this blog is becoming like one of those blog where you see a couple of entries but never hear from the person again. No worries. I’m back, or will try to be more regular in my writings. It’s harder though. Not that I have forgotten how to write or that nothings been going on lately, but just because nothing THAT interesting has been going on lately. Plus, I haven’t had time to write since I’m either always working or preparing for the CFA. So as you can imagine, I am going LOCO!

I finally got a haircut yesterday. No, not shorter but just got some of the volume to be taken off. After all, it was getting really messy to the point of being unmanageable. Now it’s still messy, but in a good way. And it looks pretty good in a Redken-model sort of way.

Ok, enough about the hair. The real reason why I even mentioned the haircut is because of the flaming homo who cut my hair, who I think did a damn good job between sipping on his latte, disappearing to have casual conversations, and bending over several times during various attempts to blatantly show his ass-crack. Seriously! I mean who wears Diesel’s to work WITHOUT wearing underwear. That’s the equivalent of me wearing knee-high shorts to my job. Regardless, this is the same guy who I thought was hot when I saw him working out at Results earlier in the fall. And, I found out that he is from West Virginia, went to VCU, and cuts hair for a living, which makes him somewhat less appealing.

I’m going to forgo a rant regarding the people who I am working with these days, particularly SL and DO. But let’s just say that it’s extremely “interesting” to work with them. If you see social ineptness and complete disregard for respecting other people “interesting” that is. Whatever.

Kate Winslet nominated for a Golden Globe

And she deserves it for her fantastic work in Eternal Sunshine for a Spotless Mind. I actually want to mary her, I think. In fact, I wish I could post this absolutely gorgeous picture of her that it currently my new desktop wallpaper.

I finished reading The Swimming Pool Club and just started Memoirs of a Geisha and Then there were None.

The cell was turned off this weekend. I have three new messages and two missed calls. Haven't gotten back to anybody so far. Just want to spend time all by myself and avoid the vicious gay cycle.

Boulevard of Broken Dreams

Song currently on repeat: Boulevard of Broken Dreams by GreenDay. The song seems very apt in retrospect to my life, particularly as I walk down 17th Street every morning on my way to work(17th Street being the Boulevard of Broken Dreams). Anyways, here are the lyrics:

I walk a lonely road
The only one that I have ever known
Don't know were it goes
But its only me and I walk alone

I walk this empty street
On the boulevard of broken dreams
Where the city sleeps
And I'm the only one and I walk alone
I walk alone
I walk alone
I walk alone
I walk alone

Myt shadow's the only one that walks beside me
My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me
Till then I walk alone

I'm walking down the line
That divides me somewhere in my mind
On the border line
of the edge and where I walk alone

Read between the lines
What's fucked up and every thing's all right
Check my vital signs
to know I'm still alive and I walk alone
I walk alone
I walk alone
I walk alone
I walk alone

Public Note

Due to issues with privilege and confidentiality that some people have, I have had to delete a few old posts. Even though this blog is pretty much private and I've never publicly given the address to anyone but two people, God knows who reads it. But it's cool. I completely understand because I wouldn't wanna read about myself either. Whatever.

Unhealthy Friendships

It seems that whatever I do or however hard I try I can’t avoid the fags. Jesse called me on Friday saying that he was coming to DC and wanted to see me. On his arrival, I found out that the real reason for his visit was to recover Charles’s forgotten slippers and wear my clothes for a night out at Cobalt. Because he still has my somewhat expensive black and white collared shirt, the only thing I let him wear was my $6 Virginia shirt, which surprisingly looked as good on him as it does on me.

Anyway, after getting dressed and cutting the tip of my nose during a half-ass shaving adventure, we went for JO’s for a couple of drinks. I hate how JO hits on all of my friends. It’s awful and highly sketchy. Behind the façade of a good host, JO induced Jesse to drinking something really strong along completely disregarding his very touchy-feely friend Noah, who was visiting DC from NY. Oh, and apparently, JO thinks that I made out with Noah one time but I really think he is BSing because I don’t remember doing it at all. We had a couple of drinks and walked to Halo which was REALLY cute. And that boy whose name I am not going to say was also there. Fine I’ll say it. SHAR! Anyway, Noah knew Shar, somehow, and went and said hi. Meaninwhile, oblivious to the drink in his hand, JO was already drunk from drinking at his place and started to molest Jesse. It was horrible and I couldn’t stand it. Particularly because I wasn’t drinking and you know how it is when you’re not drinking among a bunch of fags who are falling silly getting drunk.

We left Halo, to get over to Apex, shunning Cobalt to go out somewhere different. I wasn’t really in the mood but went anyway. Oh, and at this point, some bitchy gay couple who Noah was friends with had also joined us. After paying the $8 cover, JO got really drunk and got thrown out of Apex. Standing outside in the cold night, Jesse and I had to make sure that he went home safe. He wouldn’t take a cab and after twenty minutes of coercion, during which I was extremely frustrated, he sprinted back to his apartment.

The club was boring. I don’t even know why I went. My friends started slutting around in their drunkenness and I just watched the scene. Miserable, I felt. I didn’t stay that long, but long enough to promise myself that I won’t be coming here again.

I have two things to say to my friends.

First of all, if you’re a friend of mine, I’m not opposed to your lecherous advances on my other friends i.e. the people who I know well and introduce you to. However, what I am opposed to is you making a HABIT of blatantly hitting on EVERY cute friend of mine. And then acting like a drunken jackass for the rest of the night so that I have to see you getting thrown out of a club and stand in the cold outside to make sure that you get your sorry ass back in bed. Jeez dude, you’re not fucking eighteen. You’re almost thirty-five years old and it’s about time that you started acting your age. And even if you call me the next day saying you’re sorry, I don’t wanna hear your poor excuses ‘cause it’s not the first time you’ve been a source of embarrassment for me. I get nothing out of our friendship and, since I’ve stopped drinking, the abundance of alcohol that you provide is of no use to me anymore.

Secondly, if you’re a friend of mine don’t be calling me at three in the morning telling me that you need to take your shit from my apartment. Do you have no consideration for other people? Do you not know that some people actually might be SLEEPING in the wee hours of the night. And if you dare to call me at three, don’t make me wait for another fucking hour and decide to parade your slutty ass in with a boy in your arms at four in the morning. Such behavior is rude, obnoxious and extremely selfish. I don’t care who you’re shagging that night or who you’re getting syphilis from. Give me the details the next morning. But PLEASE don’t destroy my piece of mind at night. If being single wasn’t already hard enough!

That said, it’s Sunday and I came in to work today. Just for fun. Or more accurately, to get this shitty task done so that I can hope to do something else next week. Or not. Grrr….

New Years Weekend

New Years was amazing and a really good time. The entire weekend in fact. I think it's because Charles was staying with me. I love the guy. I can be totally myself around him without ever feeling bored. And, just like always, we had a great time doing the things we did and the places we went. Some memorable moments/happenings in chronological order:

- Shopping at Georgetown where a boy followed us down the stairs at the Sisley store saying, "are you talking about me", after Charles loudly whispered, "I think I got eye-contact from that boy", as we were walking down the stairs.

- New Year's Eve party at JO's, followed by a night at Cobalt and our self-invitation to a house full of gays on 17th Street at the end of the night.

- Road-trip to IKEA and Wal Mart

- Jesse's unexpected visit followed by a blatant display of shameful alcoholism in my appartment and at Cobalt

- Jumbo Slice at Adam's Morgan

- Building the bookshelf we bought at IKEA with Charles hungover

- Brunch at Peppers with JO, Jesse and this other boy whose name I don't remember

- Getting lost in our attempt to drive to Pentagon City Mall

- TDeal and his innane stories, JR's, Lizard

And it was ALL fun. I hope Charles visits soon so that we can do it again. Or not. We'll see when he comes next time. For now I am pretty satisfied with things and want to avoid the scene for a while. Time to turn the cell off.

The Day OFF. Not so Much.

I totally forgot what a bitch shopping can be until today when I had to haul my ass out of bed (on a holiday) and get going to buy bed linens. God, shopping for bed linens is the most tiring thing ever. Being a self-proclaimed expert on color coordination, its impossible for me to decide what to buy. That's why I had to roam through Georgetown and the Pentagon City Mall the SAME day in my search for the perfect sheets. And what sucks even more is that the sheets that I bought are a size shorter, so I have to go again to Crate and Barrel tomorrow (lovely store BTW) to exchange them for something that actually fits. Anyway, it's funny how I've bought my linens before the actual bed. Ha.

Charles is coming to visit for New Years tomorrow. He is staying with me and I think we're going to make an appearance at JO's party. And maybe Cobalt even later. Who knows!

GayBars

People who goto gay clubs are the scum of this earth. The cute ones are SO stupid and superficial and the not-so-cute ones are the ones that I don't even bother to say HI to.

Too bad I am one of these people who frequent gay bars.

This is sad. I am sad. Thank you Christmas for making me remember how much I HATE gay people and how much I HATE being part of this BITTER and SHALLOW community. Oh, and thanks for making me realize what a fucking circus these stupid gay bars are. THANK YOU!

Happy Holidays

Happy Holidays!

It’s that time of the year when it gets really cold but hardly ever snows. The stars hide behind a fog of thick clouds, the tress shed their green and the homeless scurry to city shelters to save themselves from the blinding cold. Other people are either huddled up inside sipping on their lattés or completely covered in warm apparel when outside.

The holidays mean different things to different people. For devout Christians they come with a rising demand for Christmas trees along with a spirit of merriment and togetherness. For Jews they signal the arrival of Hanukah accompanied by religious pride and a sharp increase in sales for Chinese takeout. And for Muslims, like myself, they bring a realization of how different we are from other faiths. And how strange it feels to be in a country which prides itself on the separation of the church and the state but where every business, including Starbucks and McDonalds, close down on Christmas Day.

My concupiscence for a mate increases exponentially every time of this year. I think it’s because the cold winters make me miss the absence of the warmth of another body cuddling with mine. But strangely enough, I don’t feel like that this year. Actually, this is the first time in four years when I feel happy and content being single during the holidays. I think it’s because I’ve spent this year growing and learning more about what makes me happy. Not in a selfish way but in a way where I can also be more useful not only to myself but also to others. Or that’s the idea at least.

I remember how miserable I was this time of last year. Actually, it’s scary to even remember. Attempting a half-hearted suicidal attempt. Gulping numerous Vodka shots every night to free myself from the miasma of a horrible semester. Indulging in random sex or the next best thing, gay porn, every chance that I could. No job, no boyfriend, no money leading to a one-night stand with someone who was HIV-positive. Wow. All I can say is that I’m glad that I am still not the person that I used to be. But I’m sure, judging from my previous much-tamer posts, it’s not that hard for people to believe some of the shit that I’ve put myself through.

Looking back, I’m not sure what brought the change. But I do remember how miserable I felt at the beginning of the year when I finally left DC to return to Charlottesville. At some point I realized how lost I was and how meaningless my life had become. Or maybe how it never had any meaning to it. But like my optimistic side always says, I wouldn’t be the person that I am today if I hadn’t gone through whatever I did yesterday. More specifically, to help become the person that I am, I did whatever I could to make my last semester in college as fruitful as possible. I embarked on a self-improvement program (only using those words after the fact), targeting the mental and the physical, to do the things that made me feel good about myself. I was able to take the classes that I thought I would enjoy, and ended up acing all of them. I was fortunate enough to partake in a self-constructed leadership seminar with a Darden Professor which helped me to access personal goals and rediscover the lost art of reading. I started going to the gym religiously and even starting swimming again even though it was thirty degrees outside (or maybe I was just looking for an excuse to wear my tight half-ass-showing navy blue Speedos). Hell, I even tried therapy, which I personally think was the biggest waste of four hours of my life. Anyway, I did the things that made me truly happy and I tried everything that I thought would help me achieve that goal. And, looking back, because of that semester, I can say that I loved my time at the University. I graduated on a good note with a huge smile on my face. And at the end of the day, that is all that matters.

Sorry, don’t want to ramble. I’m saving the sob-reflections for new years. So I’ll just move on to describe this weekend. Or the coming of. Borchini is in town and we went out on Thursday, first to Halo and then to Cobalt. Not to exciting but still somewhat fun. He’s a funny guy even though he looks older every time I see him. And I think he’s growing a belly, ouch. He’s still cute though which still qualifies him to get ass. Anyway, at Cobalt, we met some annoying UVA hag from the Class of 99 and also a really crazy Brazilian-logo-green jacket wearing guy who had just moved to DC from NY. And to top it all, we witnessed the amateur underwear contest, put on by these two tall, skinny and unsightly boys (the underwear contest is held at the club every Thursday night with the winner getting two hundred and fifty dollars). Still, I’m definitely proud of myself for not drinking and still being able to survive in the cataclysm of the club for over two hours. BTW, the hottest bartender I have ever seen works at Cobalt. In fact, this is one of the hottest gay people I have seen in my entire life. And I’m not the only one who thinks that. I don’t think he’s gay though. But if he is, he’s amazing. Another win for the gay community!

Recently, there have been rumors of my celibacy going around. The other day, TD, a ’03 UVA graduate, currently in his slut phase, mentioned that one of his fuck-buddy friends told him that that I was celibate. The rumors are good, in a way. They make people will know what they can get out of me when they me. But then again, I don’t want to be pigeonholed into a certain category. Though, celibacy is not a bad thing it’s still not something that I want to be famous for.

Right now I’m sitting at CyberStop, this gay-café near my apartment, which seems to be the only place open on Christmas Day. I don’t have any plans for the rest of the day and I think that I’ll save myself from the torture from going to Cobalt. Oh, and currently I’m reading the Swimming Pool Club by Alan Hollinghurst. Anyway, like John Mayer says, “I wish everyone a very happy non-denominational holiday”.

Cold City Winters

Eventful weekend, or somewhat.

On Friday I went to an office holiday party with Kim. Kim is a colleague who sits in the same office as I do. BTW, did I mention that I am currently stationed in the corner office with windows. This is because I was shipped to the “other” office because nobody had any use for me in my old office. Anyway, the new office has a nice set of windows, which means that I actually get to see daylight and people walking by during the day. Kind of nice, but not really ‘cause the kind of work that I am doing these days is really crappy. Reviewing folders. And not just a couple of folders but over a thousand folders. Sigh! the sacrifices one has to make to pay sky-high rent and live in this country. Anyway, Kim is really cool, even though she talks continuously, and we spend most of the day bitching about work and the people we work with, which makes the work we are doing somewhat bearable.

So, office party. Yes. It was fun and sort of nice to get to know the people that work with me. Met this really cute guy called John, a UVA alum from 2001 and rumored to be gay, even though he casually mentioned that he had a girlfriend during college. But he didn’t come off as gay maybe because of the facial hair or because he was “trying” to be straight at an event where only two people had endured the joy of sleeping with men (him and I). Regardless, we talked for a while, and that was it. I didn’t want to make any moves, after all, it was an office party. I did drink even though one of my resolutions on turning twenty-two was not to. Yeah, there goes that one. But seriously, I’m trying to pursue my goal of staying perpetually sober because I want to. And want to because I promised myself that I would stop drinkng after college. And that is because of many reasons but mostly because of my inclination for drinking to get drunk. And when I get drunk I get sloppy and sometimes even dangerous. Not going to dwell on that too much right now, but you get the picture.

After spending most of Saturday feeling guilty and hung-over, I went out later that night on a date. Yes, a date. Surprised eh? So am I. Actually I’m not sure if it was a date or not but it felt like one. I went out with this guy from my building who lives on the first floor. His name is Gabe and we met at our landlord Matt’s orgy party. Yeah, you read that right. ORGY party (details later, maybe). The night of the party I was extremely wasted and remember feeling utterly disgusted by the shameless display of sex in front of me. And apparently, on deciding to leave, Gabe was nice enough to walk me back to my apartment, only to return to the party after that (even though he promises to only watch and not have participated). Anyway, we went out to Cosi, which is this restaurant-cum-cafe located on every other block in Dupont Circle. Not too formal, not to casual. Just right for a first date. We ordered our drinks (I had a hot chocolate and he had cider) and engaged in casual conversation in an attempt to get to know each other better. Later I went back to his place but didn't stay that long since nothing interesting was on TV. And thankfully nothing sexual happened, which was good. Only a warm sort-of-uncomfortable hug on my way out.

I had a good time and would like to see Gabe again, but only as friends. I don’t think that I am ready for more. I mean Gabe is cute, intelligent and fun. But I don’t really feel butterflies in my stomach. Or not yet. I’m sure I’ll run into him since we live in the same building. And we’ll just have to take it from there. But yeah, the sparks ain't there.

It’s really cold today. In fact its fucking freezing. Can’t stand outside for more than a minute. It’s going to suck walking home today from work. I’ll just have to suck it up. Or take a cab.

It’s Christmas next weekend and Borchini is coming to town. Again. And then Charles is coming to visit me for New Years. Looking forward to good times.

Hey Shorty It's Your Birthday

Yes it is.

I've been somewhat busy. Also, not very motivated to write. But I think I should say something since I turned twenty-two today. Wow. Twenty two years of life. A beautiful, wonderful, dramatic and lonely life.

First of all, twenty-two isn't a special number. It doesn’t really have any special significance attached to it. It's not like eighteen when you’re young, high-spirited and ready to take the world by its horns. And it's not like twenty-one when everyone in this country is all excited about your ability to drink legally. But in many ways twenty-two is nice just because nobody really cares. Except your family that is. They always care, shown by the plethora of telephone phone calls I got this morning. And it’s nice to realize that they love you that much. It really is, especially when most of your relationships with your so-called friends are unsatisfying and shallow.

This year will be different for me. I can sense it. And to some extent, I can also feel it. I've been wanting to change some things about myself for a while. And that feeling that makes you feel unsatisfied with yourself is getting stronger and deeper everyday. Especially when I go to bed every night. I don’t know why I feel that I’m not taking advantage of the life that I have. Or why the pursuit of pleasure that I see around me is not the way I want to live the rest of my life. And what about happiness? We’ll the other day I heard that a person who only looks for his own happiness in life is selfish. And I think that is somewhat true. But I also think that there are ways of seeking happiness outside of the realm of personal pleasure. For example, helping other people or doing good work at my job always makes me happy. I don’t know. Just some things that are on my mind.

Most of the people at work wished my Happy Birthday. Apparently, Sarah M told everyone, which was nice gesture. Later I had lunch (soup, sandwich and a cookie that she bought for me) with her and we sat together with some other people. I think I am the youngest person in my office. Or at least everyone now thinks so.

There are several things that are on my "to do" list. But I'm not going to spell them out. I don't want to jinx anything. However, the biggest challenge I feel that I'll have to deal with are my relationships. I am still looking for people who I enjoy being with and who are healthy for my well-being. And, in the end, I have to stop letting my solitude get the best of me so as to want to be in the company of certain immoral individuals.

And now some representations:

Representing the beauty of a selfless soul
Representing the innocence of a pure mind
Representing having love and being loved
And finally, representing the wisdom that comes with age

And I am thankful for..

It’s Monday morning. Back to work.

The long-weekend was quite eventful. It was kind of nice to have two extra days from work. But not that nice. I think that I’m a workaholic. I like the routine and feeling somewhat productive by putting myself to some use. Or maybe I just like killing my mornings and afternoons while developing a buzz from the many cups of coffee that I drink during the day. Either way, it’s nice to wake up in the mornings, look all pretty, and strut down Connecticut Avenue.

So, Borchini and MMaring were in DC for Thanksgiving. Borchini is a gay guy who was a year senior to me in school. He currently works in New York, and is witty, somewhat bitchy, and judges other gay people primarily by their looks. Even though we have nothing in common and had this sort of had a love-hate relationship in college, we’ve moved past our differences so as to now get along pretty well. MMaring, on the other hand, is a cute gay boi who all my other friends lust over. I’ve never had a thing for think though and have always thought of my relations towards him as extremely platonic, primarily because we’ve worked together on numerous projects in school. Currently MMaring works for Abercrombie & Fitch at their corporate headquarters in Columbus, OH.

It's funny how the gays at UVA barely say hi to each other in school but act like best-friends when they run into each other outside of Charlottesville. Pleasantly surprised, I ran into Borchini and MMarring Thursday night at BadLands, a gay club in DC that widely attracts the gay college crowd by hosting “college-night” on Thursday nights. I was with Clint, a guy who I have hooked up a while ago, and some of his not so hot out-of-town friends. So, looking to find other hot distractions, I gazed at the abundance of cuteness around me. And then I saw two familiar faces. Faces that I recognized from school. After initial typical gay boy salutary behavior (kisses on the cheeks), I was happy to find out that the bois had noticed my long uncut shaggy hair, which surprisingly looks really good these days. I engaged in a short-awkward conversation with both of them, and before heading out ALONE for the night, made plans with Borchini to go out Saturday night.

We did go out Saturday night, first to Halo and then to Cobalt. I also asked JO to come along, who while we’re at it, wants to sleep with all of my friends. As if all of DC is not enough to satisfy his unrelenting promiscuousness. It was okay. Not bad, not good. I did meet some cute boys but nothing worth mentioning or remembering.

I’m so sick of running into this bullshit South-Asian gay propaganda of recruitment whenever I go out. Okay, so apparently, there is this gay organization called Khush in the city. Whenever I see someone who belongs to this fraternal organisation, they never fail to mention how I should come to one of their meetings. Give me a break guys. If I wanted to join some odious perverted group based on the commonality of race and sexual orientation, I would’ve done so already. But I don’t. And it’s not that I dislike other gay South Asian men. It’s just that I don’t want to be part of a group that differentiates itself based on the fact that we all have brown skin. Geez, why create a division based on skin-color? Or are you bois just looking for easy lays? Also, I don’t want to deal with you queens talk about how “different” you feel and how your internalized racism makes you feel like a “victim” of the society. So shove it. And the next time you see me, just smile, say hi, and go about hanging with your own kind.

Boys Suck

So, what the hell is up with cute straight boys saying: "If i were gay I'd be totally into you". That just makes me sad and even more bitter. And speaking of bitter, this guy at Cobalt last Saturday was like, "You know you're cute, it shouldn't be hard for you to find a boyfriend". And I'm thinking, is that an insult or a compliment. Does he mean that there's many eligible hot men out there for me, or is he implying that in spite of the hot gay men in DC, I should feel bad about myself 'cause I am still single. Well, thanks anyway for your words of wisdom. Asshole.

All I'm saying is that if he's out there, he'll come to me. Otherwise he can just stay wherever he is and enjoy his sad, lonely, meaningless existence.

Thanksgiving break this weekend. Two days off from work. Should be somewhat relaxing and give me some time for "personal learning". Oh, and Borchini is coming to town. Watch out DC.