When History Repeats Itself

History unfortunately doesn’t age gracefully. The more times it is repeated, the lamer it grows to be and the more I hate myself for being a part of it. But shit happens, feeling take over, and you don’t know what else to do but to embrace the truth as you know it. Even if that truth is annoyingly familiar.

By now you can probably guess this is a post about my romantic life, or rather my inability to have one for an extended period of time. Nothing new here, so move along if you have better things to do and read.

Fact or Fiction? As a relationship develops and evolves, there’s not much you can do to curb the impending steam that comes when cold meets hot and passion meets companionship.

I have learned, and am continuing to learn, that I need the sizzle, the heat, the exhilarating newness and honest quality that does not come into a person’s life (or at least mine) very often.

It took over a year to bridge the gap between my first BF ever and my most recent (de facto) BF. Where men are concerned, I am a man of extremes; one-night stand for nothing or two-month fall for everything.

I would like to believe I grew a great deal in those many months I was on hiatus, where I didn’t have to worry about the next date or the talk that I may (or may not) need to have regarding taking (or not taking) the relationship to the next level (or last leg).

I wrote the following during the mental struggle that was the beginning of last week:
“I find myself here again, about to hurt someone whose only flaw is that they like me more that I like them. It sucks when the only problem is me.”

I obviously cared (and quite possibly still care) about this guy. If I didn’t care, it would have been a helluva lot easier than it was to do what I did. But if I'm being brutally honest, he didn't really have a chance. He was always on his way out. That sounds so much more horrible that I mean it to.

And it sounds like such a cop-out, but I can’t seem to change how I’m built. It's like I have some deadly, incurable disease I don't want to tell anyone about until I have them (read: him) under my spell and infected with my bullshit. It all sounds very sick, and is even more disturbing in my head.

But don’t I have the right to explore what feels right, even if those feelings are likely seasonal?

Am I at fault because I am not alone when the feelings originate?

Should I quarantine myself from the dating pool just because my actions might have a negative impact on the feelings of another person?

Don’t I have the right to rent what I cannot afford to buy? In the words of Dido, “I haven’t ever really found a place that I call home. I never stick around quite long enough to make it.” Maybe that’s the problem? Am I an inpatient dater? Do I bail at the very first hint of boredom? It’s possible.

I don’t like to think of myself as giving off a confusing first (or second) impression, but I’m sure I do. I don’t want “something more” until I do, and I want “something more” until I don’t anymore. I’m not an open book and I don’t think that’s a bad thing. But it doesn’t help when you’re trying to get to know someone better. Somewhere along the way, while my beau and I were trying to keep it simple and casual, it got complicated and confusing. He was trying not to scare me away, but it’s probably good to scare me away as soon as you think I’m worth scaring, and suffer the consequences sooner rather than latter.

Blah blah blah. So much for romance. Enough about serious stuff.

I’m getting ready for a blast of summer fun and a much needed escape from Fantasy Island.

This weekend is Gay Pride here in the city. Should be a blast, but I’m way more excited for…

7/3 – 7/7: An American Holiday in Canada

Montreal here I come. I’m a virgin, I probably won’t ever want to leave, and I’m tres looking forward to it.

7/10 – 7/14: Summer in the Smokies

Dolly’s Splash Country is calling my name. Water parks are a love of mine and it will be a great chance to see the fam in a neutral location (where Dolly is on my side)!

Hopefully the island can function without me while I’m away. I’m sure I’ll come back to a shitshow at work…that is if I come back at all.

Can’t wait to make stories and share them here. Stay tuned for that.

F.I.N.E.

When asked on Jay Leno this week how her father was doing, Liv Tyler replied that her rocker father always says that he’s F.I.N.E. She said it stands for fucked up, insecure, neurotic and emotional. I never knew Steven Tyler and I had so much in common!

F(ucked Up)
I(nsecure)
N(eurotic)
E(motional)

Story of my life.

Speaking of my life, here’s a professional life update…

So, I finally got a legitimate promotion worth talking about. Last week I was officially promoted to “Project Manager” at my agency. All that really means is I keep doing what I’ve been doing, while getting a much-needed 15% raise and a few more vacay days a year (the later due to my approaching 3-year anniversary with the concentration camp that allows me to have health insurance).

I’ve been thinking of leaving for a while, and the time is definitely drawing closer by the day. But I’d be an idiot to leave before finishing out the summer and taking the vacay days I’ve earned. From Montreal, to Tennessee, to Chicago…it’s going to be a fun summer with lost of stories to tell.

But before I go foreign, I have some local trouble to get into. This weekend is Mikey J’s show on Friday night (side note: BWC is in town from DC) and a Gay Pizza Party/Boozefest at my place on Saturday night (TWC is predicting temperatures 90+ degrees). And Pride is 3 weekends away. Can’t fucking wait.

On an unrelated note, here’s some stuff we’re watching:

Cheyenne Jackson topless. Need I say more?


The worst office freak out EVER!


Estelle - American Boy ft. Kanye West (Video)