New Year, New Me

I wish there was that moment, just one moment, that I can pinpoint as the turning point. The last time I talked to most of you was in August. What. The. Hell? It has actually been almost six months since I last posted on this blog... but it doesn't mean that I haven't tried. This is actually the sixth time that I have started a post, but it marks the first time that I have actually finished one. I have run through the gamut of excuses for why I haven't written:

• Excuse #1: "Oh. Em. Gee. Guys, life has been so overwhelming! I've been traveling so much, and it's so hard to write on the road!"

(Which basically says, "Forgive me for being a privileged little bitch. I am so lucky, I get to apologize for it." #Imtheworst)

• Excuse #2: "Oh. Em. Gee. Guys, I have been going on dates as research! I went on so many dates that I went on several dates with this one guy, and it was awesome. So awesome that we became friends on Facebook. Then he stopped talking to me out of nowhere, and I was really bummed and decided to hide from writing because of it!" 

(Which basically says, "Forgive me for getting to go on so many dates, because I decided to write a blog about it and here we are. Also, I hope you are reading this dude who disappeared — you know who you are!" #coveredinSHADE)

• Excuse #3: "Oh. Em. Gee. Guys, I have been working so much, and it's sooooo stressful, I don't know what to do!" 

(Which basically says, "I think that I am the most unique person ever, and I am the only person who has ever worked a lot. I am so lucky to have a job!" #ungrateful)

• Excuse #4: "Oh. Em. Gee. I took so long off that I started to worry that I was bland and nothing was funny and everything I wrote was drivel. Oh, also, I wasn't inspired and I hated myself for saying I wasn't inspired, because that is literal bullshit. But now I have gone back and forth so much that I should really sleep on it and wait until tomorrow. OMG, tomorrow is Friday, so if I post then, no one will read it and that seems silly. JUST WAIT TIL NEXT WEEK!" 

(Which basically says, "My logic is flawed, but I said a lot of things at once, so I hope you didn't notice the ridiculousness of it." #circleoflogic)

So here we are, four of my main excuses for the last six months for not writing. I have given them to many of you who have asked why I am not writing. I have made empty promises to write more while dancing at bars and empty promises while sitting in bars. (Which is technically your fault for believing me whilst drinking adult beverages, but who's here to point blame?) I have made the same promises to myself. (Funnily enough, also whilst drinking and dancing... alone.)

So what changed, why now? I think I had been writing this blog on and off for so long that I forgot why I was writing it. I was living my life for the stories that I would get to tell you, rather than living life and letting the ridiculous happen. I began hoping that dates would go poorly because I was anxious to write about it. I know this might sound pretentious, but I realized that wasn't why I started this whole thing. I started this blog as an outlet for me to talk about the naturally absurd things that happened to me. I love to tell a story... but the story has to be real for you... and for me. 

("Omg, omg, omg. Shit just got real! Omg, what do we do now???" — Judgey readers of the blog)

Right, I know, things got a little to full of the "feels" for a blog about gay dating and ridiculous life stories. I just wanted to let you know that I took the last six months to live my life without thinking about the stories. I lived my life and ridiculous things just happened. I went on dates, I traveled, and I worked too much and I found out that I still have a crap ton of stories for all of you. True stories that I am embarrassed and, simultaneously, excited to tell you about. 

(I swear... no more emotional paragraphs!) 

SO, what the hell does that mean for you? Well, it means that I am going to post every Wednesday from now until the foreseeable future. 

Judgey Reader: We have heard this before — how do we know you're not full of shit?

Me: Well, you don't.

Judgey Reader: You're not good at this whole being "convincing" thing, are you?

Me: See, I could lie to you and sell you on me, but what fun is that? I will prove to you that I am not full of shit, and I will post every Wednesday. 

Judgey Reader: But today is Thursday. Why did you start this on a Thursday and not on a Wednesday?

Me: You're LITERALLY the worst. I decided this while sitting in a gay bar, by myself, trying to hit the $10 minimum to use my credit card. It was $2 drink night. I was also alone. 

Judgey Reader: So you decided this drunk? Yup, this will last. 

Me: GOOD POINT! SCREW YOU! 

(Queen B said it. You're fake arguing, through a dialogue I made up, and it is now getting on my nerves. So, you know, stop and let it happen.)

You'll just have to wait and see. This blog will continue to transform and will be my commentary on life, my personal life stories, adventures in dating, and plenty of drinking games (ugh Mama Fab — I feel the judgement. Just accept it, I'm a lush.) I hope you are ready for January 29. 

Blog Readers: Hopefully, still with me

Mama Fab: Possibly judging, but also excited for the drunk games

The Blog: Happy to feel the soft caress of a long lost lover. Shhh, baby boy, it will all be all right.

Fabulously Lost: Innocent until proven shady

Thoughtful Thoughts

This is going to be a post about a couple shiznat happenings in my life. I do what I waaaant.

Shocking Events

I have to discuss with you guys a major issue that arose today. Last week, whenever anyone asked me to do anything, my immediate response had been yes. Movie? Yes! Trivia? Why not? Random semi-political concert in support of peace between Israel and Palestine? ... Sure!? I was just so enamored with the idea that I could finally do anything after work and go to my apartment and sleep in my own bed. So, it came as a massive surprise to me when I was asked to go to happy hour (my second favorite meal behind brunch) and I responded, "No."

(But. Whaaaat?)

There are only three possibilities for why this could happen:

1. I've just discovered that money doesn't grow on trees.
2. I'm going to Miami in May for work, and I need to start working out instead of eating out.
3. The Apocalypse is upon us.

Well, if you guessed ALL three of these, then you are right. (But mainly, you should probably start preparing for number 3, because that shit is real and not okay.) As I mentioned above, I have been going out on a regular basis since I moved to the city and pretending that I have unlimited funds for these things. I def needed to take a week off from spending money and what better way to spend my time than going to the gym? (I COULD THINK OF A MILLION THINGS I'D LIKE TO DO THAT DON'T INVOLVE A GYM. Sorry. I just. It's. Ughh.)

Remember that time I slipped in there that I am going to Miami in May and pretended like I wasn't going to talk about it? HAHA! I'm a sneaky mothatrucka. Real talk: My company is sending everyone to Miami in May for our company meeting. 

(Oh deary me!)

We have these amazing trips every year for our company meetings out on the Eastern Shore of Maryland. Everyone just assumed that when we got too big we would end up stopping these events. INSTEAD, THEY ARE TAKING US TO MIAMI. (I'm prone to outbursts, sorry I'm not sorry) We are going for three days the week after Memorial Day. I have never been to Miami before, so I decided that I was going to stay an extra few days with a couple of gals, a couple of gays, and a straightee thrown in there.  In order to get my shit together for those buff, tan gays down in Miami, I have decided that going to the gym is actually going to be worth it. I am also going to be sucking up enough UV rays to power a solar-powered car for a cross-country trip. You know, 'cause that's healthy. 

(Basically, what I wanna be. Sans the boobs... and the sex tape.)

Barista Boyfriend

Since I moved in a little over a month ago, I have put my love life on the back burner. (I like pretending that I have a love life that can be placed somewhere other than in front of me.) I decided that it was important for me to get myself established in the city and set up my home for any possible suitors to see. (After AT least the third date. I'm classy like that. Also, #celibacy2013.) This hasn't stopped me from the occasional sloppy makeout at the local gay hangouts, I've just been more picky about who gets to see me sober. 'Cause that's a healthy way to date.

There has been one consistant man in my life since I moved to DC and he, my friends, happens to be the local Starbucks barista. 

(Oh, I wish I was that latte.)

The issue I am running into here is that I have created a fictional relationship with him. He is very, very nice and always has a gregarious greeting for me... just like he does with everyone else. I have also been there frequently enough for him to remember my drink — sorta.

Me: I would like a...

Barista: Don't tell me, I got this! You want a venti caramel macchiato, right papi? (Did I mention he is Hispanic? OH, I didn't? Welp, he's Hispanic.)

Me: So close! I would like an iced venti skinny vanilla latte!

Barista: Ahh, I was close. I'll get it next time! 

Me: No worries, you're so good at drinks making of them and such. (Remember how awkward I am?)

Barista: And your name is Steven, right?

Me: Close again! Its Mm...

Barista: I got this! It's Milo!!! 

Me: Close enough for today...

It's not Milo. Due to these brief interactions and the consistency with which I see him, I have decided he is currently my boyfriend. 

(Insane in the membrane!!!!!!) 

Concerts and the City That Never Sleeps

Next week, I am going to New York to see Taylor Swift! 

(Imma let you finish, but SUCK IT I'M GOING TO SEE HER.)

The concert is on Wednesday, and I'm going to be there for a few days of debauchery and other fun activities. We know how aggressive NY can be, so, hopefully, we will find ourselves in a game of Russian Roulette with a bottle of vodka and prowl the town for boys.

Until next week...

Bush: Puzzled about everything 

Miami: Heyyyy gurl

Kim Kardashian: I think I need to make a sex tape to get famous

Fabulously Lost: Workin for da man and livin an abbreviated dream

Oy Vey

For those of you who do not know me outside of the confines of this blog, I am wildly proud of being half Jew. My father was born a Jew and lived happily as a Jew well into adulthood. My shiksa mother married him and they decided to raise my brothers and I as proud Jewish boys....until we were young lads when Papa Fab decided to convert. It seemed foolish to have two Christian parents and three Jewish children...so we were converted as well. I have always struggled with religion (mainly because I am an overly angsty homosexual who just wants to BELONG! Ughh is that so bad??), so I proudly hold onto the fact that I am a half Jew. I am a religious mut, if you will.

(This accurately describes my constant feelings of "halfness")

You may be asking yourself many things right now about why I decided to tell you that little diddy. Things like: 

1. What the hell is wrong with him? 

2. Didn't he say he converted? How can he be a half Jew if he converted?

3. How did he find such a clever photo? I really like his photos. 

4. Isn't he obsessed with Christmas?

5. Does this mean he is going to tell us a story about a Jewish man that he went on a date with and it didn't work out and he somehow ended up in a HIGHlarious situation?

For those of you who thought number 2, HOW rude. PoTATEo, poTAHTo. For those of you who thought number 3, thank you! You are so sweet and most obviously my favorite readers. For those of you who thought number 1, see the link in number 4 and you will understand that there are lots of things wrong with me. And for those of you bright little munchkins who thought number 5....you are sadly correct. I went on a terrible awful date with Jake the Jew. 

(I generally follow whatever catchy advertisements tell me to do. This. Is. No. Exception. *insert gay clap*)

I met Jake the Jew (there is no clever name for him. Just facts) the way I meet all of my suitable suitors...on the World Wide Web. We messaged back and forth with quippy remarks about culture and music before he asked me for my number. The emails turned into texts and I had begun to really like this virtual man I had never met. An Interior Designer! 25! It's like a Jewish mothers dream come true (I mean...a doctor would be better, but they all can't be perfect). 

The day of the date, I do what I normally do - I tried to convince myself that canceling was a much better option and that my relationship with my bed was the only one I really need. I am lucky, however, to have a best friend who works right next to me and is a constant encouragement in life. She told me I needed to go on this date just in case it happened to be an amazing date and this was the man of my dreams or, more likely, this ended up a really good story that I could tell all of you about. (I'm a giver like that.)

When I arrived at our date I was greeted with a cute scruffy boy who had a hipster look without being too hipster. To my dismay, that was as far as my attraction to this scruffy Jewish interior designer would go. 

(womppppp, womp)

We sat down at Ted's Bulletin in Eastern Market for a burger and fries and some basic "getting to know you" conversation. Jake the Jew had this way of telling me a little bit of information and then going into a mini-awkward-giggle fit that both freaked me out and also caused me to be concerned he was having a seizure. 

Jake the Jew: I grew up going back and forth from Maryland and Florida. Bad things can happen in Florida. *hehehehaaha bahaha hmmm*

Me: Wait, are you okay? What do you mean?

Jake the Jew: Of course I am okay silly goose. Florida can be a dangerous place for pretty boys like us. *hahahbahahabooohahahehe* *wink*

I am still not completely sure what he meant by all of this, nor was I terribly interested in finding out how Florida would be dangerous for a "pretty boy like me." Our conversations were mauled by his outburst of giggles more often than I would have liked (i.e. more than zero times. I would have liked them to happen zero times. Never. Not once. EVER)

(Is that what dying sounds like?)

As if the awkward life-death sound he was making wasn't enough of a turn off, he was also casually flashy with his money. (I am sure he was blatantly flashy, but I couldn't tell due to the screech) Apparently his parents had separated when he was really young and they both had a good amount of money. A huge surprise (read also: sarcasm) came when he told me he was an only child and was used to getting what he wanted.

Jake the Jew: My parents had a hard time saying no to me, I mean wouldn't you have a hard time too? *snort, giggle, wiggle, hehe, haha, gaufaw*

Me: I guess its nice being an only child, I have two brothers so everything was split. 

Jake the Jew: Most people have a hard time saying no to me. It's a gift *hehehe hlerp blarg haha*

Me: Um, yeah I gathered that the first time you said that. Charmed life you lead. 

Jake the Jew: I bet you'll have a hard time saying no to me. *bleeehehe he*

Me: I say no more often then most think. 

As we all know, there are only a few things that I have a hard time saying no to, snorting Jewish hipsters is not on that list. Slowly over the course of the dinner I began finding out more tidbits that Jake the Jew decided to fib on on his dating profile. For example, he was actually just recently 22yrs old and he actually was unemployed. HE WAS LYING ABOUT EVERYTHING. 

(Ain't we all unimpressed. We're still fighting Obama)

At the beginning of the date Jake the Jew asked me when I had to leave DC by before I turned into a pumpkin. (Cute at first, in retrospect it casually annoys me) I had told him it would be best for me to leave DC by 10pm at the latest. This was meant, at first, as a reason for me to leave if the date went well (I'm tryna catch me a husband, not an STD), and a way out if it went poorly. This was meant as a guideline. I was thanking little baby Jebus when I looked at my phone and we had already finished by 8pm. I could get home and still watch some Sabrina the Teenage Witch before I went to sleep. (I never said every aspect of my life was glamorous...)

Me: Welp, it looks like we are finished with dinner. 

Jake the Jew: Yeah and it's only 8! We can go grab a drink.

Me: Uh, well, I was thinking I should drive home.

Jake the Jew: But you said you have to leave by 10, so we have 2hrs. See you can't say no to me. 

Me: But, I didn't, but, what?

And with that I was on the search with Jake the Jew for a place to get a drink. Somehow I got roped into driving us to Dupont and looking for parking. I spent 30min circling for parking and trying to just get him out of my car as fast as humanly possible. (I didn't need a murder trial on my hands on top of everything else) When we finally parked, Jake the Jew told me he wanted to take me to this divey gay bar no too far from where we were. Luckily for me, when we walked up to Larry's Lounge we were greeted by a group of burly looking mountain men!

(My own personal heaven. Except not exactly like this...cause I hate the outdoors.) 

There was an event that was going on at the bar for prostate cancer and the amazingly cute bouncer asked me if I wanted to pay for the wrist band for cancer. 

Burly Bouncer: If you pay $10 you get this wrist band that gets you cheap drinks at three different bars and the proceeds go to Prostate Cancer. 

Me: Oh, well, as enticing as that is, I am only having one drink and then heading home. *casual giggle/side smile/hopeful flirting face*

Burly Bouncer: Aw come on, you know you want more than one drink. You have to stay and keep me company.

Me: Ah, if only I could! I have to get home, if only this was tomorrow evening!

Burly Bouncer: Is this because you hate prostate? *winks*

Me: *swoons* *silence* *giggle*

Then I remembered I was on a date and needed to get my shit together. I begrudgingly followed Jake the Jew to the downstairs area of the bar with a drink. Away from the Burly Bouncer. Away from true happiness. 

When we got downstairs, we started to discuss our passions which always ends up with me talking about music. He was as vapid as he was before and didn't have much to contribute to the conversation other than, "I love to listen to Paris Hilton's old stuff." But, like, how? How do you do that to me? How is that an answer? Does she have new stuff? What counts as old? WHO IS THIS?

(THIS IS WHAT YOU LIKE???)

The icing on our terribly made was when Britney Spears came on and I began to tweak out. 

Me: Ahh, Britney is like my kryptonite. Whenever she comes on I wanna go dancing. 

Jake the Jew: Yeah, I saw her in concert a couple of years ago and was unimpressed. 

Me: You mean you saw her in March of 2010 at the Verizon Center? The Circus tour? I was there...it was amazeballz. 

Jake the Jew: I wasn't pleased with it...and she screamed something weird out during it. 

Me: She screamed "Merry Christmas DC" and it was totally unexpected and awesome at the same time. 

Jake the Jew: Yeah...well...ever since then I haven't really listened to her a whole lot. 

Me: Welp, this is awkward. 

I know this is weird. I am aware that me deciding that this date was literally going to end at this moment makes me seem a little off my rocker. But it is not my fault that he preferred PARIS HILTON over BRITNEY SPEARS. You see the predicament I was in...

(I just...I just...love her)

We tried to make strained small talk after that, but it was apparent that this date had ended because of Ms. Spears. As we made our way to the front door the Burly Bouncer, standing with two other extremely attractive men, caught my eye and immediately began flirting. 

Burly Bouncer: Oh hey! *to his friends* This guy hates prostate. 

Me: *coyly* Whaaat? No! I don't!

Cute Friend: There is definitely know way this cutie hates prostate 

Me: I mean...

Burly Bouncer: *grabbing my arm* I'm positive you don't hate prostate. *wink, smile*

Ugh...I slowly began to slink out the door because I was technically still on the date. As we walked away from the bar, I felt my hopes and dreams being dashed on the side of the road. (Not to be overly dramatic or anything...)

When I move to the city (IN 2 WEEKS) I will venture to that little dive bar and hopefully run into my future husband. 

Burly Bouncer: Missed connection...

Jake the Jew: Sorry Yenta, not my match 

Britney Spears: A good indicator of a persons character

Fabulously Lost: Single...looking to mingle?

Distraught

So I just spent the last couple of days working on a piece about my recent date with Jake the Jew. When I went to post 5min ago...THE ENTIRE THING DELETED. I am overly distraught and in an emotional place. I planned my day around being able to finish this early and go on with my day. WHO IS SUPPOSED TO BAKE COOKIES?!?! WHO IS SUPPOSED TO COOK FOR FRIENDMAS??

Instead I am going to dance until the world ends and I will write a lot this weekend. Because I have been slacking. Uggghhh stop hating me. ITS CHRISTMAS. 

LOOK: It's Buddy! 

UH-OH, what shenanigans are going to happen with these two crazy snowmen. Silly Snowmen

PUPPIES: Look, they are wearing hats! Dogs don't wear hats, hahaha!

LOOK: It's Buddy again with Mr. Narwal. We know where this tale ends up...in the CANDY CANE FOREST. 

Sooo you really can't be upset with me anymore because I just posted some ADORBZ and HIGHsterical photos. 

Ok crazy kids, I want you all to have a HAPPY HOLIDAZE. Feel free to read about why I will be tweaking for the next few days. CLICK HERE

Fabulously Lost: #blogfail

Christmas: Cures everything 

Jake the Jew: A HIGHsterical story you can read after Xmas. Promise day after.  

Britney Spears: A constant presence in this blog. 

You Know How I Know You're Gay...

I want to take a moment and take you back into my life to a time when I was straight. (AHAHAHA...yup there was a time when I told people I liked ze ladies). I was quite the ladies man and I've actually probably had more girlfriends then boyfriends....(I told you I should have chosen to be straight!). I thought I had quite the racket going on and that people were convinced of my heterosexuality. Annnd then I came out. When I came out I had a slew of different reactions from positive to negative, mostly positive and mostly people telling me they knew before I did. (Side note: Never tell a gay person that you knew before they did...you didn't and its obnoxious.) Below is a compilation of some of my favorite reactions over the years.

Now I am newly in love with being gay and thinking its the best thing since sliced bread. I originally wanted to be one of those "hetero-masculine" acting gays who only had straight friends. (FYI...in case you haven't gathered..I have never been "hetero-masculine" acting...rainbows always shoot out of my mouth when I speak) So back when I came out I wanted to do it very strategically. I was 16 years old and this was obviously an all encompassing task and I planned everything out to a "t." I came out to my parents first which was a hoot...but I will get to that later. I then decided to come out to one of my best girl friends at the time, thinking that she was going to be the easiest to tell. 

First I told my friend Bee (we had weird nicknames for each other that still don't make sense to me...I was Boo...don't ask). I was so nervous and I wanted to take her aside after our World History class junior year. We wrote notes back and forth to discuss when we were going to talk. 

Me: Hey...so I have something really big to talk to you about

Bee: What is it? Tell me

Me: I think it should be said out loud. Are you free after class

Bee: No...we have another class after this. idiot

Me: Rude, Ill tell you at lunch I guess

Bee: No, tell me now. I want to know

Me: Ok....I'm gay...

 (remember thats all on a piece of paper...I just came out to a friend on a piece of paper...)

Bee: *speaking loudly now*: OMG THIS IS GREAT! WE HAVE TO GO SHOPPING!

Yup, the first thing that any friend said to me about my being gay was that we had to go shopping. Somehow a lot of people, not just Bee, think that now that I was willing to admit to my homosexuality, I was magically the best person to go shopping with. They stopped caring about dressing and undressing in front me and they always asked my opinion about clothing, because a gay mans opinion is next to God when it comes to clothing. 

I then told my other best girl friend, Girl-Next-Door (GND), since she was like a big sister to me. I had been kinda concerned about how she was going to take it since she loved her some Jesus. I want you to think for a moment where the best place it would be to tell GND. Think about it lonnnggg and hard. (that's what he said...hehe). Then erase that place because I am positive you couldn't guess where I actually told her. 

I told GND that I was gay next to the dumpsters in our h.s. Not only was it by the dumpsters, but it was after lunch so they were filled with crap. I decided to tell her next to GARBAGE. This sends a positive message about being gay I am sure. To her credit, she hugged me and said "cool." (I think I wanted streamers and confetti to pop out over us...but beggars can't be choosers...)

I told a couple of other core people in my life and then I told this one girl who I knew would tell everyone. I told her during homeroom and by fourth period I had people coming up and congratulating me. My friend New York (she later went to NYU and I visited her all the time), who had sociology with me 6th period, walked up to me with a little side-eye action going on and goaded me for information. 

NY: Someone had a big day didn't he...didn't ya kiddo! 

Me: Uhh whattt? I...uhh..hahah...uhh. No it's just thursday

NY: Come on, come on now. I hear things, I know things. It was a big ol' day for ya!

Me: Well I mean...I guess. Yeah its kinda a big day. *sheepish grin*

NY: I know, I know. Good for you. Goood forrr you. I'm proud of ya.

I swear to little baby jesus she talked to me like a big gay dog and I responded like a big gay dog. I was waiting for her to pat me on the head and give me a treat. We still have interactions like this...I  am in serious need of help...

(I would totally wear this is if I were a dog...)

There were two girls that I was friends with at the time, that I heard from other people, were waiting for  me to tell them personally. They were actually insulted I hadn't come to them directly to tell them about this big news. As I was walking towards the parking lot they stopped me like two teenage girls meeting Justin Bieber (the real one, not the black Bieber)

Excitable Girl 1: So do you have something to tell us?

Excitable Girl 2: Yeah, something important?

Me: Not really...do you have something for me?

Excitable Girl 1: No, obviously not. Didn't something big happen today?

Excitable Girl 2: Yeah, like really big?

Me: Umm, nope. I got an A on my sociology project...but it wasn't like solving the worlds issues...

Excitable Girl 1: This is ridiculous...JUST SAY IT OUT LOUD! 

Excitable Girl 2: YEAH OUT LOUD

Me: Whoa...I...I...I'm....

Excitable Girl 1: Omg just say it, we know! We knew before you did

Excitable Girl 2: Yeah way before, like freshman year

Me: Interesting. I mean if I knew what you are talking about I'd say thats preposterous. Also I dated you Excitable Girl 2. But I guess if I must say it to prove to you, I am gay

Excitable Girl 1: OMG THIS IS AMAZINGGGG I ALWAYS WANTED A GAY BEST FRIEND!!!

Excitable Girl 2:  Yeah me too! 

I never really hung out with either girl after that. I gained a lot of girl friends right after I came out because, at the time, Will & Grace was huge and everyone wanted to find their Will. I fell for it, but after a bit most people fell off the grid and I realized I was fully capable of being more then a gay best friend. 

My parents probably have had the best reaction any parents could have had. We hugged, we cried, we told each other that we loved each other. It was beautiful. They also told me they had no idea that I was gay. This. Was. A. Lie. Over the last 7.5 years since I came out they randomly come at me with different ways they knew I was gay. 

Mother: You know, the first time I thought you might be gay was when you were 4.

Me: Thats poppycock! I didn't even know I was gay then. You are a ridiculous woman. 

(That's actually how I talk to her. I am an extremely stereotypical gay man when it comes to mi madre, we are besties. ughhh so gay)

Mother: It was right around Christmas, which has always been your favorite. 

Me: I mean lots of children love Christmas. So what if I still obsess about it. Get on with your point you cray cray lady.

Mother: You wrote a letter to Santa that read a little like this. 

Dear Santa, 

I have been a really good boy this year and I wanted to thank you for all the things you gave me last year. If I could have a few of the things off my list I would like that, thank you. 

1. A teddy bear

2. GI Joes

3. Batman toys

4. Captain Planet toys 

5. other crap (there were others on the list. I didnt say crap at 4)

Love, 

Fabulously Lost

P.S. can I have FLOWERS for my room

Me: Wait...I asked for flowers for my room at 4 years old.

Mother: Yes, that was my first inkling you might be gay

Me: Touche Mother, touche...you've won this round

That is a pretty flamming thing to do, right? I mean how many of you asked for flowers for your room? What this proves to me is that even at 4 I knew what looked good it my room. I was a fabulous 4 year old. Ahhh to be young again. 

My father and my brothers often like to bring up the big give away to them that I was gay. I was in middle school, it was the late '90s and I made some major mistakes as a kid. What I am going to admit to you now is something I have tried to keep quiet for a long time. I have hushed my family from discussing it in public and I try with every fiber in my body to erase the memory of this from my head, but here it goes. 

In 1998 I got my first CD for my birthday. It was the Britney Spears critically acclaimed debut CD, Hit Me Baby One More Time. Now this, in itself, is a fairly gay thing to have as your first CD because, even then, Brit Brit was a bit of an icon for ze gays. (Did you see what I did there, I gave her a nickname like we are old friends....ahh to be friends with Britto!...I know I am seeking help) This wasn't the gayest thing I have ever done though. I became obsessed with this CD and with Brit, I listened to it all the time and made my parents play it in the car. I knew every single word on the CD and sang like I had a multi-album deal with Jive Records. (yes I know the recording company she was signed with back in the day. Shut up..)

Again, while gay, thats not the gayest thing I ever did. Somewhere around the middle of my 6th grade year I decided that I needed to take my love of Britney to the next level. I needed to display my feelings for Britney in my room for all to see (because I was having so many sleepovers back then...HA...). I began getting magazines like J-14 and Teen Bop and started cutting out pictures of Britney. Once I finally had enough photos I took thumbtacks and put them above my bed. I built a shrine to Britney for me to sleep under every  night. 

(this isnt my wall...but its eerily close to what I had)

I had this up for most of my middle school career before I got to h.s. and realized how homosexual it was and took it down. I wanted people to see my room and not think that I was gay (because I was having so many sleepovers...HA...#noguyfriends2000) There is a photo that exists somewhere of this and I hope it stays buried with all of my other broken dreams. 

Looking back on it, its almost appalling to think about how gay I was as a child. I did many things that were fairly flaming for a child. 

1. I had an imaginary friend named Penny.(Yes I did resort to imaginary friends, and I was quite popular in the imaginary world.) She was Inspector Gadget's sidekick. I was fake friends with his SIDEKICK but not him. Why? Because she was pretty and a girl

2. I was always Princess Peach when I played just about any video game (Super Mario Cart was the shizznat) with my brothers. I would pretend like she was the only logical choice for what I was trying to accomplish.

3. I enjoyed going over to my cousins house and playing with her Barbies because I didn't have any at my house. She now goes to Indiana and probably doesn't remember playing Barbies with me, but I pretended like I was just being a good older cousin...I just liked playing with their hair

4. I used to brush my babysitters hair. Other kids played with toys and video games when their babysitter was over...I brushed her hair. 

5. I HAD A MOTHER EFFIN' BRITNEY SPEARS WALL...nuff said

Needless to say, there were many things that contribute to me being the fabulous rainbow loving man I am today. I will periodically share with you some of my more embarrassing tails of being a homosexual child...for now I think I have scarred you enough. 

Fabulously Lost: Gay since birth

Singledom: Not such a secret 

Britney Spears: Still obsessed...just no shrine 

My attempt at being mysterious...

I hope all of my single friends have had a lovely holiday so far. My coupled friends....suck it, go cry on the shoulder of your sig other. This holiday was splendid for me, spent it at my parents house, but was readily aware of my lack of a love life when I found myself sitting sandwiched between Padre and Madre while watching Love Actually . Now for those of you who haven't seen this movie, I am not going to explain anything about this movie...you should be able to get the jist of it from the damn title, and if you don't we have issues. As I sat there watching these increasingly sappy love stories I began to think back to my love life over the last year. There is one person that seems to come up quite often in my group of friends and has even become an anecdote for people to tell at dinner parties. (Cue the sound of my self esteem both rising and falling at the same time. Wrap your head around how THAT happens).

I began going to the gay clubs and bars frequently back in Jan. 2011 when I began hanging out with gay friends on a regular basis. It was new and wonderful and full of dancing sweaty men who just wanted to belt out Lady Gaga and Britney Spears without being looked at like they were fulfilling any of the stereotypes they actually were almost always fulfilling.  I began to slowly fall in love with this world while in Baltimore, but it wasn't until I went to Philly on a random weekend with gay friends that I realllllly fell in love. 

I drove up to Philly with gay bffl (best friend for life, duh loser) and sang Britney Spears and Beyonce (cahm ahnnnn we arent that gay. You can only sing Britney Spears OR Lady Gaga when not at the club. Read the rule book. No need to out gay the cars next to you.). Pulling into Philly was magical and it seemed like a brand new playground for me. I literally couldn't wait to go see the Gayborhood and all the fun things Philly had in store for me. 

We checked into our hotel and proceeded to get schwasted with a group of gays who I'm pretty sure judged me the whole time and I generally had a terrible time that first night. My dreams dashed against the liberty bell I woke up with an inexplicable urge to go to a sports bar and hangout with straight people to balance the cattiness from the evening before. Once I was finished being a drama queen and the gay bffl was done being a drama queen, I realized going to a straight sports bar meant I would have to actually watch sports and the men there wouldn't be interested in me (or would they be? *WINK, WINK* get it...did ya see what I did there? "straight" = fun game! JK lolzzzzz)

Anywayz we spent the entire day walking around the city scopin' peoplez out and deciding what debauchery we were going to get into when our lesbian friends came for the second night. I couldn't wait for them to arrive and our glittery night adventures to begin!  (All good night adventures with the gays involve glitter. I'm pretty sure Ke$ha is just a gay man posing as a woman.) I got shnazzed up in my normal black attire (It's slimming. Im not gothic. I promise. I like colors. ughhh I knew you would make this awkward. I wear more color now, ok??). We had a couple drinks before we left for the club with the ladies. The first place we went was fine and ok...nothing to write home about, it was really the second place that changed the game. 

We walked into Voyeur and there was a magnificently large circular stage in the center of the room with men, upon men, upon men packed on it. My first thought was "Aww hellz naw Im not getting up there. Those crazy queens!" Much to my shock and awe, my gay bffl responded to my "thought" by telling me he had no doubt I would be up there at some point in the night. (Apparently in my drunk state, my thoughts became word vomit that I felt necessary to spew onto my group. Damn you Drunk M., damn you). We made our way up to the second floor of the club, which overlooked the entire first floor, and got a couple of drinks. As we stood up there....Beyonce's "Run the World (Girls)" came on....

Gay Bffl and I ran down stairs as if Judy Garland herself had strolled in ready to hand out the Queen-iest  of Queens award, and we had been called for first place. We began dancing like maniacs and trying to replicate the music video we had memorized the weekend prior. While down there on the floor I looked up at the stage and there was this dark figure walking towards the edge of the stage. He looks at me, I look at him and he points. I turn and search in the crowd to see what he is pointing at before I realize it is me. I slowly walk to the stage as if I am on a runway, trying to remember what Tyra had taught me on ANTM, and he pulls me up to dance with him. I rock the crap out of the stage and out of this attractive black man. As we begin to mack it on stage, my friends begin to hoot and holler like banshees. Embarrassed by this....I continued to mack for a few more minutes and dance. THEN I got off the stage. 

Several moments later we repeated the entire process above.  Point. Dance. Mack. Hoot. Holler. ROCK his mother effin' world. While I was up there dancing with him we had a very short exchange that went like this. 

Him: Why you so sexy?

Me: *silence, unsure how to answer perplexing question*

Him: Sexy, My name is Stephen

Me: Thats a nice name. My uncles name is Stephen. (Whaaaaaat? WHAAAT? MY UNCLE? who the HELL brings up there Uncle as they are dirty dancing with a man on stage? *winces at memory*)

Him: Uhh thats cool. Whats your name?

Me: *Winks* Thats for me to know and for you to find out? *Winks again, continues to dance and mack it*

Can we discuss for a moment my last sentence. Thats for me to know and for you to find out. Ummm YO....he was trying to find out and you thought you were being sexy and mysterious. Nope, sorry about it you were just mind boggling and confusing. In my drunk state I figured that the sexiest thing I could do would be to NOT tell this person my name, which explains my singledom. Stephen and I could of had a lovely drunk convo that turned into breakfast, that turned into spending weekends at each others homes, that could've turned into vacationing with the parents, getting proposed to and being married in front of the Liberty Bell. But we will never know because I didn't tell him my name. 

To this day I get random text messages from people that say "Why you so sexy" or friends who will ask about how Stephen is doing. Any possibility of a future with this dark finger pointing figure has gone out the door and down the drain. PSA for the kiddies: Mysterious only works in the movies. 

Internet Dating: 4

Fabulously Lost: 0

Philly: Pretty damn good...they have lots of gays.

Dr. Chandler Bing, The Groupon King

The first few months of being on OkCupid was like the first time I learned how to ride a bike. I fell down a lot and bruised myself but it seemed like the most fun thing in the world. (I no longer ride my bike, so I don't know if this is a good sign for me) I went on more dates than a hooker on Park Ave. It became an on going joke with a couple of my friends that all I need is the promise of some good texting and a solid dinner and I'm yours. I said "yes" to every single date I was asked out on. "Desperate? Desperate, party of one?" Ahhh yes that is me, an eager beaver...who isn't a fan of beaver.

Dr. Chandler Bing (his normal name is close to this and I imagined dating Chandler because of that) entered my life thru a slew of well written messages about life and music. He wasn't really my normal type (he was white) and he seemed intent on getting my number, which I was hesitant to do since I had fared so well with giving Stalker Dan my phone number a couple weeks prior. I soon caved when he told me he was working towards being a dentist (I'm half Jewish, so a Doctor is a good find, even in the gay world). We began incessantly texting each other and finding more things about each other and loving it. He was looking for the same thing as me! Love! Long Term Relationship! Cuddling! (we alllll like a good cuddle. gay or straight. Yes we talked about cuddling. Yes it came up before we met each other. Yes as I type that out and it seems weird to me too. I will gladly judge myself on that one)

Dr. Bing finally asked me out. He said he wanted to take me out in Baltimore and have a cute date in Little Italy. swoooooon. How could I not be terribly excited. I announced this to everyone who would listen, I contemplated sending out Save the Dates so people would remember that he and I were going to go out the next week. Everyone awkwardly listened to me as I gushed over a man who I'd never met. "His texts are so endearing. I can tell he is going to be a gentle lover" "No wonder he is going to be a dentist, he spells out all of the words in his text messages" "I can tell he must have excellent bedside manners with his patients, he always sends smiley and winky faces."....and on and on and on I went.

The day finally came where I was to meet my future boyfriend and husband, Dr. Bing. We were going to have a lovely wedding on the water. So excited to tell him all of this. I drove up to this little Italian place in the heart of Baltimore and parked my little car. I had been about 20min early, so I sat in my car and jammed out to Britney Spears, as if going on a date with another man wasn't gay enough. It was just about 7:30 when I got my shnazzed up self out of the car and began the trek to the restaurant. We had decided to meet outside and I kept looking extremely hard at peoples faces, wondering if it was him, if he held true to his photos that were on his profile. 25minutes later I was bored and my dream was fading as he finally showed up completely disheveled and slightly larger than his pictures. I'm no tiny duckling, but I also think my photos are true to form. No need to hide that sir.

We got into the restaurant and sat down and began to talk. His voice was slightly grating, but we ALL aren't perfect, right? He ordered 2 glasses of wine. For. Him. Self. (Strike 1) Then ordered a shrimp appetizer, after I had just gotten finished telling him I was allergic to shrimp. (Strike 2)  Forgiving all of this I tried to talk about the fact that we had some friends in common from college. BOOM. That was the worst thing I could have said. I was forced to listen to how he used to be a drunk RA who didn't care about his residents, he was only doing it to live on campus for free...and see the hot kids as they came to college. (shiver down my spin. Strike 3). Dr. Bing also founded a drinking fraternity at the dentistry school, which, in his words, made him the coolest and most popular guy at the school.

 As if this wasn't enough to win me over, he then started talking about how rich he was going to be. He had already picked out his graduation car that he was giving himself and the type of house he was going to buy. (Strike 4, I'm not the best at baseball but I feel like I shoulda left by now.) The only time I talked about myself, I let him know that I was really into volunteering and interested in nonprofit work. To this day I will never forget his response..."eww. So you do stuff for free? Thats not gonna get you very far in life." (Strike 1,000,000)


I told him I was ready to go and needed to go home. And this is where the zinger comes in...he gets the check and hands the woman a Groupon for the restaurant. When she brings the new check back he hands it to me and says "Hey so since I had the Groupon, you can get the rest of the check right?". . . . WHAT?!?!!? I ordered A glass of wine to your FOUR. My entire SALAD was $13 and your three course meal was $50. HOW is that even remotely okay in your mind DR. Bing?? I thought you were sooo rich. You had money coming out of your ass? You spew coolness...this isn't Bing. This. Isn't. Cool.  I said none of that and instead spent $43 on a dinner I only ate about $15 of. 


As we walked out of the restaurant he shook my hand and said "I guess I won't be getting lucky tonight?" I stared blankly and awkwardly at him until he walked away. Shock and awe.

Internet Dating: 3
Fabulously Lost: 0