Sports and Stuff

Like I seem to do at the beginning of every post, I want to mention a few major things going on in pop culture/my life (because they go hand in hand).

• I'm recently prone to random outbursts of emotions as well as hot flashes. It's either because I am menopausal...or...or...nope, the only explanation is that I am menopausal. I have really high high's and then I get really sweaty for no reason. I bring layers to work and then slowly peel them off as I heat up...or I keep them on because I am fearful of the wonderful sweat stains. (I'm quite the catch bitchessss)

(Vampires sweat too)

• I am in the process of SUCKING at packing. I have been avoiding it like the plague because it adds to my stress and it also adds to my menopausal breakdowns (see Robert Pattinson). I am 8 days away from moving and my looks like I'm nesting. 
• I haven't written about my favorite southern hillbillies in awhile, but Honey Boo Boo should be very proud of Mama June because she has lost 100lbs (according to her). Mama June is telling everyone she didn't change her diet or even set foot inside a gym - she is blaming being famous (Just sit with that for a minute). But, like, is that why I can't loose weight? Am I just that unfamous? I never thought that Mama June would contribute to my low self-esteem, but by George, SHE'S DONE IT. 

(HOW? There are two things I want to point out. 1. The media LOVES finding terrible photos of this woman. 2. Get it Mama June, solid shirt choices)

• Beyond trying to figure out if I can get Mama June thin from being famous, I am trying to figure out how to lose weight before I got to Miami for work in May (No, I don't work at a real place). What I have resorted to doing is a diet known as "Slow Carb,"  which basically means 6 days a week you hate the world and don't eat anything fun and on the 7th day you may have a cheat day (I live for cheat days). If you remember correctly, I tried out #nocarbs2013 in January and I casually wanted to punch everyone in the face. Obviously, I make good choices in life by adding a restrictive diets to my already menopausal outbursts. (Hey good lookin, you tryna get at this?)

(Just a normal Friday night!)

Ok, let's get onto the real thing that has been having me all in a hizzy the last few days. In the last six days I have surprised myself more than I have surprised anyone else. I am sure you all heard that this past week was the Super Bowl, right? Well, I was planning on watching the Super Bowl like I normally do-- stuffing my face with food (in the name of sports!) and waiting for the half-time show (surpriseeee). Then, out of nowhere, my mind, body, and soul decided to to make a random foray into football fanaticism.

(Someone's mother didn't hold them enough when they were little) 

To tell you how uninterested in the sport I was, when Super Bowl Sunday started, I posted on Facebook "I hope the Ravens score a homerun today" (You'd be surprised how many people thought I was serious). I did, however, travel into Baltimore to watch the game because I lovveeee tailgating and wearing the color purple and having it not be a strictly "feminine" color. We began playing beer pong, drinking Irish coffee, and randomly taking shots around 2pm (in the name of sports!). 

Slowly, as the game creeped closer and closer, I felt myself buying into the Ravens. Everyone around me was wearing purple and getting really excited and I couldn't help having sympathy excitement. However, it wasn't until the first play of the game that my feelings towards this team went out of control. (I kept it real though, my first tweet about anything Super Bowl was about the M&M commercial featuring Santana from Glee. Facts)

It happened when the first touchdown happened for the Ravens. It was like my body was taken over and all I wanted to do was live tweet this event. I started to scream when we had the ball and was irrationally annoyed when things weren't going our way. My friends who were around me were astonished at how into the game I was. I was the person everyone thought was going to make snarky comments about the game. Instead I was hooting and hollering about the game as if I was a lifelong diehard fan. 

(He just gets me) 

As if I couldn't be tweaking out enough in an abnormal way, the half-time show came like a bat out of hell. For the whole first half of the game I had been this hetero-masculine being, tweeting, grunting, and emoting all my straightness. Then it happened; I'm not even that big of a fan...or so I thought. Trotting down the center of the stage Beyonce made her way straight into my soul. 

(Throw some shady STANK Bey)

I went from the epitome of masculine to a giddy 12yr old girl. I kept turning and spinning and trying to see if anyone else in the room was having n religious experience like I was. When Kelly and Michelle rose from ground to reunite Destiny's Child, I honestly questioned if my body could handle the excitement going on in my body. I kept saying "My heart, my heart, this is everything." (Why? Because I am a dramatic homosexual)

The second half of the game was more stressful and I was actually almost brought to tears at one point because I thought the Ravens were going to lose. I HAVE NEVER BEEN EMOTIONAL ABOUT SPORTS. I couldn't handle myself and there were a couple of times that I tried to snap myself out of it. I had mini pep-talks with myself in the bathroom.

"Get it together. This isn't you. You get emotional at Britney Spears concerts and during the months leading up to Christmas. You do not form deep relationships with football teams during a sporting event. You do not have panic attacks when "your team" misses a play. Get. Your. Shit. To.Geth.Er." (Gay claps implied)

Nothing I did would work, though. I still had so many emotions and when the Ravens did finally win the Super Bowl, I ran out into the streets with my friends and participated in a good old fashioned riot. 

(I'm in there! Can you see me??)

This was probably the least abnormal thing for me to partake in the entire evening. I like to break shit. 

This theme of random Raven fanaticism continued into the week as well. My boss convinced me to work my work schedule around being able to attend the Ravens Super Bowl Parade in Baltimore this past Tuesday. Not only did I gladly accept this reason to have an abbreviated work schedule, but I freaked the freak out about being able to see some of the players I had grown to love over the course of 72hrs. (Right next to all of the lifelong fans, they don't care, right?)    

I went, I wore purple, I screamed, I hooted, I hollered, I took 20+ photos, and 10 videos. I have mind boggled myself and I am just wondering at what point I was drugged by the sports fairy. Once I figure where this hetero-demon came from, I'll let you guys know.   

Football: Great for innuendo and rioting (Ill throw a ball in your end zone! *wink, wink*)

Mama June: Fame has really gotten to her...

Beyonce: Queen of Stank 

Fabulously Lost: Lost in a world of sports fandom (Like Space Jam)

Somewhere Over the Rainbow

I love that the month of June is Pride month (even though I wish it were during a cooler month), and that there are parades and festivals across the country. During a time like this, when change is eminent, it is good to gather, be loud, and be proud of who we are to show the world. But holy ballz Batman, if Pride were every month my liver would be shot, my body would be constantly broken, and I'd have very little memory of what goes on in life. This past weekend was, dare I say, crazier than DC Pride...for me at least. If you have been following my stories at all, you understand that there was no way that Baltimore Pride could have been tame, considering I have dated more than half of the city. (Do we like how I refer to my experiences as "dating" people...) This is my Baltimore Pride Experience, for better or worse...

 I decided for this past weekend's experience that I wanted to actually make it out during the evening and not pass out at 11pm like I did for DC Pride. I was going to stay in and get crap done the night before and then make it to Baltimore by mid-afternoon. But as we all know, I can never resist a request for a good happy hour or night out on the town. Some of my first friends from freshman year of college asked to gather, get drinks/food, and get weird. I, of course, felt the need to oblige since I am nothing if not a people pleaser. Plus, when I was a freshman they were juniors in college and they had apartments and were getting ready to be real people and closer to 21 than I was. Basically, they were super cool to me and they liked having me around, ever since then they have been the "cool kids" to me...any opportunity to be invited to their "lunch table" was always exciting.

It ended in shambles and Mexican food. We  proceeded to share rounds of shots like we had discovered the last remaining bottle of tequila on Earth and if we didn't drink it, the recent outbreak of cannibalistic zombies would eat our faces off. (Too soon?) Things get hazy, Mexican food was randomly purchased, and a cab driver took us for a tour of DC because he assumed we didn't know where we were. All of that caused a late start for this tuckered out gentleman and pushed back my arrival to the gay parade.

When I finally arrived into Baltimore at my gay bffl's place, I was ready for the rainbow festivities begin. We got a quick drank before he suggested that we walk from Harbor East to Mt. Vernon (where Pride was being held). For those of you who are unaware of Baltimore geography, that is a bitch of a walk and completely unacceptable for someone like me, who sweats...a lot. (Annnd I wonder why I am single). Almost as quickly as he suggested it, I jumped in a cab and told him and some of our friends to have an enjoyable walk and made my way with two of my lady friends to the festival of colors.

Within moments of arriving  I was accosted with several people I have "dated" over the last year. First we had Betty Boop, who literally just stared at me with his mouth open as if he'd seen a ghost. Now, I had prepped myself for the fact that it was inevitable for me to run into some of the cray crays of my past, I also practiced many reactions and faces so I wouldn't look like Betty Boop did. I gave a half smile before scurrying off into the crowd and hoped that was the worst run-in of the day. (Hahahaha, we all know I do not poses the luck of the Irish, these run-ins would only get better from here)


Baltimore Pride is like one big clusterfuck on Charles Street in between the two main gay bars in the city. Everyone was just outside, drinking, eating, drinking, dancing, drinking and being ridiculous. I ran into some old gays from high school in the process. (Shout out to my Howard County Gays!....that just felt lame to type...) Before I left for the day my mother said one thing to me:

Mama Fabulous: It would be nice if you could find someone at this event. I mean...there will be a lot of options.


Yup, its gotten to the point where my parents pity my single life. I patted her on the arm and assured her I would keep an open mind up about meeting someone. When I met up with some co-workers at the block party I told them about the  request for me to meet someone and instead of laughing at me they asked me what I would want....sooooo now everyone is over my single status. JOKES ON ME.

Co-worker: What's your ideal man, absolute perfect person.
Me: Ethnic
Co-worker: I don't know what to do with that, I need more.
Me: Tall, ethnic
Co-worker: This is why you are single. 
Me: Ughhh.... 6'-6'4", black/mixed, light eyes, more masculine than me, hunky
Co-worker: I should've guessed that. 
Me: I mean....you asked...whatever....he doesn't exist. Single foreverrrrr
Co-worker: Glad to see you aren't dramatic, I'll keep my eyes open.




After roaming around and having a god awful fruity drink, we ended up at City Cafe at the end of one of the blocks. Drinks were flowing there and it was a good place to wait out the heat. Within moments I became friends with a rando who was wearing the same J Crew shorts as me. He was a tall black man (surrrprissseeeeee) who happened to work in the same building as me. We hit it off and even took a picture together. My follow through was terrible. We didn't exchange numbers, names, or anything beyond witty banter and some drinks. Failed attempt at love #1.


It was also at this point that Baltimore Frandz decided we were only going to drink "clear" liquids for the rest of the day. This would avoid the issue of spilling fruity drinks on our outfits and feeling bloated from too much beer. This also ensured that we were all going to be...sloppy(?) by the end of the evening. Gin and tonics also seemed like the "healthiest" choice with the fewest calories. (We did everything in our power to talk ourselves into this being a good idea)


But it was a good idea....because....because....I FELL IN LOVE. It's true. I found someone at Pride! Baltimore Frandz went into Central and went to the upstairs lounge area, where I immediately ran into MIGHTY DUCK, who literally looked me up and down, turned to the queens flocking him on either side and said "There's nothing for us to see up here...let's go". How the mother effing hell did I just get dissed by someone who wore a feather suit to the bar as "high fashion." FEATHERS!

I was obviously feeling dejected and down by this display of gay prosecution and needed a drank...fast. That's when I fell in love. A 6'2" black man with a great smile made initial eyecontact with me and we started making eyes at each other from across the bar. (which means, since I was drunk, that I was probably awkwardly licking my lips and bugging my eyes out...you know...to show my love.)

(The only time Megan Fox and I will ever look similar...)

I guess my exotic mating ritual enticed this gentleman enough to walk over and start flirting it up with me. 

PrideLover: You are so beautiful, it's captivating

Me: HAHAHAHAHAHA, I mean, HAHAHHAHA

PrideLover: What's so funny?

Me: Uhh...oh...you were serious. Umm...I was laughing....dropped drink.

PrideLover: You dropped your drink? Aren't you holding it in your hands?

Me: Person behind bar. And they. Thank you

PrideLover: Haha, you're adorable. Let me get you a drink.

I am not really sure how I was adorable in anything that I did there but we ended up talking for awhile going back and forth. We met each others friends and we even exchanged numbers. Outside of the slight intoxication, it's one of the most normal ways I have met someone in a long time. PrideLover even exchanged numbers with one of my bffl's while I was in the bathroom, to make sure we would end up going out on a date. 

I am most thankful for the fact that we parted ways a little bit later before he watched me scarf down jalapeno poppers like it was my job...and burning the entire roof of my mouth in the process. (because I am classy like that..). The next day he texted both me and my Baltimore bffl to make sure we had fun and confirm that he was, in fact, still interested. I had forgotten I had fallen in love, but was invigorated by the texting and fell right back into it. 

I told a couple of my friends about it and my Brazilian bffl had some choice words about my new found relationship. 

Brazilian Bffl: I give it two weeks

Me: But I have found true love 

Brazilian Bffl: You find love every week, you get bored, and you move on. I give him two weeks

Me: You are not the boss of my heart. It beats to a different drum

Brazilian Bffl: Mhmm, two weeks.

Obviously she has little faith in my ability to find a suitable suitor, but I won't let her get me down. (to be fair...my track record...well, I write a blog about the pitfalls of my dating life. Maybe she's right?) I had another friend semi-belittle the experience.

NJ Bffl: I think its so great how often you fall in love!

Me: I meann...what?

NJ Bffl: I just think its great you have so many adventures and put your all into them

Me: Adventures are my thing, check out my OkCupid profile...I write a whole section about my adventurous life style. 

(Read Also: I lie on my profile about my adventurous lifestyle)

NJ Bffl: Maybe you don't fall in LOVE but more like LUV

Me: Rude

It seems my friends can't decide if they are desperate for me to not be desperate anymore or if they have lost faith in my dating life. Maybe a little of both? Either way I have a date with PrideLover on Tuesday of next week....we will find out how long true love really lasts.

Also, Mama and Padre Fabulous decided to take in the Pride Festival in Baltimore on Sunday for Father's Day. I'd like to point out, that while this gesture is completely and totally awesome and wonderful....it sucks for me. You may ask why? Well, since they are so freakin' accepting of me and supportive, it eliminates the possibility of me writing about a dysfunctional background or having a deep dark past. I will never be a moody songwriter or have a best selling book about my life turned into a Lifetime Movie (Every gay boy can have dreams...can't he??) So thanks Parental Units, thank you for bringing me up in a totally normal home where I was allowed to be myself and you still liked me. Rude. Just ruddeee. 

Fabulously Lost: In love with a stripper and PrideLover and Straight CT (Sooo maybe friendz have a point)

Friends: Faithless heathens 

PrideLover: Unaware of what he got himself into

Parents: Accepting and Loving...and rude.