Random Tidbits

Ok, so these are all things that are going on in my life that I couldn't really flesh out into a full post. I still wanted to share them with you because they are the unfortunate happenings that lead me sit at home most nights, and eat 4 slices of pizza, and secretly wish they would bring back The Hills and Sabrina the Teenage Witch. (I lead an exhilarating life). Let's begin..

I have a boyfriend everyone.

JUST KIDDING!!!!! HAAHAHA!!! Jokes on...me? Ugh, what I mean to say is that I have a fake boyfriend at the gym who may, or may not, know that I exist. (Because I don't have enough trouble as it is finding a real one, I have to find a fake one and make him fake mine). See, I have this thing where I need to find something to motivate me to go to the gym, because obviously self-motivation to be healthy and lose weight is something that doesn't exist for me.

In college I had a couple of best friends who worked out with me and made it into a fun thing, and I like fun. After I graduated and moved home, the fun ceased and I was left with the constant urge to not go to the gym and do absolutely anything other than workout. Recently, though, I have found my own motivation with my secret fake boyfriend, who is at the gym every night by the time I get there and leaves 45min-60min after I get there. (I magically leave around the same time. Coincidence? I think...so.) I have told myself that I am a bad fake boyfriend if I don't go and see him.

(So I am a little crazy...but I've been to the gym every day this week, suck it.)

I may get arrested...

...if my odd day dream at work comes true. Recently I have been sitting in a lot of meetings and doing one-on-one training sessions with random people. During one of my sessions this past week I was sitting there and my nose began to feel weird...like really weird. I felt like there was the tiniest feather tickling the outside of my nose, taunting me to brush it away. I began to panic and think that I had a major snot poking out and that this person I was training would never take me seriously. (Being a young-20something in the work place isn't enough...I now have a snot rocket waiting to make sure I get the respect I obviously deserve.) So, I calmly decided to brush at my face in the most discrete way possible. 

(I'm like a fucking ballerina)

Here's the thing, it didn't go away with that one swat of the nose. It continued to be there, taunting me and telling me to swipe at it again. So, as I am talking, I go in again to take this tiny tickling nose feather out. And again. And again. After the 4th or 5th time of attacking my nose I started to think about what would happen if there really isn't a feather booger poking out of my nose. What would happen if I just look like I am playing with my nose? You know who also plays with their nose a lot, coke addicts. (Yup, I watched True Life: I'm A Drug Addict, I know what coke addicts do.) I put myself into an all out panic at that point. I decided that this girl probably thought I was a coke addict and after this session she was going to tell HR. I was positive there was going to be an intervention and/or the police were going to show up at my work. I imagined what the conversation would be like with my parents trying to explain to them that I really wasn't a drug addict, that I just had a frustratingly ticklish booger. (Of course I would deny it, all drug addicts do! DAMN YOU MTV KNOWLEDGE.)

(Just me an Urkel...hangin' in the slammer)

By the time I had planned my entire arrest and trial, I realized I was still talking and I didn't know what I was talking about anymore. Soooo, I literally just stopped talking and stared at this poor girl. (Obviously awkward pauses and shifty eyes now added to my nose swapping addict tendencies...ughh guys, I don't look good in orangeeee). She looked at me a little oddly and then said she really enjoyed everything I said. I really hope I didn't confess my inner fears out loud...

I got angry at my GPS

This seems like a totally normal thing, right? I was driving along and listening to my jamz (read also: Christmas music), when all of a sudden my GPS decided to interrupt and ask me if I had any commands for it. Holllld uuppppp. Excuse me, whaaaaaat? You see, I had to replace my phone on Sunday because apparently you aren't supposed to drop your iPhone in the toilet because it causes corrosion. (Who knew?) So I had to restart all of the programs and upgrade them and all of that jazz. Well, apparently, my GPS app had this update where it now periodically asks me if I need help and all I have to do is speak into the phone and it will oblige.  

What my iPhone didn't realize is that you really shouldn't interrupt my Christmas Jamz because I get irrationally annoyed. When the Barb (my name for my GPS, because thats normal) decided to block the music to ask me if I needed help. I decided the best way to handle her rudeness was to say something mean. 

Barb: Do you need any Assistance?

Me: Stop talking 

Barb: I'm sorry, can you repeat?

Me: Stop. Giving. Directions. Out. Loud. *(insert gay clap at each period)

Barb: Please repeat. Speak Slowly. 

Me: SHUT THE FUCK UP BARB. I HATE YOU. 

Barb: Commands turning off

(I WON)

I felt obscenely victorious for all of half of a second, and then I felt terrible. I felt like I was unnecessarily mean to  Barb, so I started to examine my response and I felt this terrible pit in the bottom of my stomach. I had just been  a terrible person and yelled at her while listening to the happiest music on the planet. (At no point did I think, "Hey, this is an inanimate object that has no feelings and doesn't care what you call it"...because it can't care...). I felt so bad that I ended up turning the commands back on and apologized to Barb in my mind. (Sometimes I don't realize how crazy I am until I write these posts about myself.)

I caused an accident with my good driving skillz

Literally...I was actually being a good driver, instead of the asshole speed demon I tend to be. This time of year always brings out the good within me (Except when it comes to my GPS, sorry Barb!), and I try really hard to make sure that shines through in all the areas of my life, including with my driving ways. Well, Monday morning, I was driving to work at a decent speed along Route 29, just bopping along to my music and drinking my delicious Pumpkin Spice Latte, when a Douchebag decided to ride up extremely close behind me. He was riding my tail like I was a hot piece of ass in a skimpy dress at the club on a Saturday night. (The answer is no, I don't feel good about what I just wrote...).

 I just kept going along at the designated speed limit (or 10mph over) when I saw the traffic light ahead turn red. As I started to slow down the Douchbag decided to zip around me to speed ahead. As he drove past me he raised his fist triumphantly with his middle finger waving back and forth. I turned and smiled and waved (because I am not above sharing friendly gestures) which angered him further. He turned back to the road to realize the red light was there jusssst a little too late. I stopped appropriately at the light as he slowed down and ended up in a fender bender with a Mercedes Benz SUV. 

(Not the car crash I saw this morning...but exactly what happened)

So my little Douchebag friend's speedy Volkswagen now sat with its hood curled up under the SUV. I turned over as I finally reached the light and looked at my now distraught sparring partner. As we all know, I have stopped wishing accidents on people, so I did feel bad for a moment. (Not as bad as when I yelled at Barb, she really didn't deserve that)

Wrap-Up

Alright, so my next post is a ridiculous story that involves Halloween, the Village People, the gay club, random make out sessions, and, as always, a run in with the law. Look out for it on Monday. 

Also...I am going to DC's annual High Heel Drag Race next Tuesday. I will be intoxicated and surrounded by Halloween Drag Queens...I hope to God I make it to work the next day. 

Fabulously Lost: Lady in the streets...

Barb: I can't apologize enough

Gym Boyf: See you tonight ;) 

True Life: One of the only constant pleasures in my life

My Accidental Boyfriend

Over the last several years I have had the "opportunity" to go on dates galore with people who I met in various walks of life (read: met online). There was a time, though, when I wasn't so desperate for a boyfriend and all I wanted was a casual make out here and there and maybe a fun person to hang out with. (I'm gonna need you to refrain judgement...it was college.). I talked a big game about how I wanted to find Mr. Right and how I wanted to fall in love and yadda yadda yadda, but in reality commitment scared the bejezzus out of me when I was 19/20 and was the last thing I wanted. One summer, I accidentally found myself in a semi-serious relationship. (Yes...accidentally.)

The summer after my sophomore year at UMD made me feel like I was hot shit. I had a sweet managing job at a fancy chocolate store in the mall (total babe magnet...) and I was also working at the gym on campus a couple days a week. (I have not missed the irony that I worked in a chocolate store and a gym...) I, too, find it odd that I worked at a gym in college. For someone who loathes working out and sweating as much as I do, I spent more time there than my own apartment some weeks.  Then again a lot of my life decisions don't have much rhyme or reason to them...if they did, I probably wouldn't be writing about all of this to you. 

Anywhoz, the days I worked at the gym that summer I would stay down in College Park with one of my straight male bffs (remember, I was the anti-gay gay). We would drink the night away with Kentucky Gentleman and play guitar hero (these were some of my straightest acting nights of all time). But there were random days over the summer, mostly clustered near the end, where he wasn't available and I needed to find another place to crash for the night. That's where Drug Dealer #2 came into play. (I was attracted to danger, assholes, not to the drugs! I'm clean as a whistle!)

Drug Dealer #2 and I met right before Winter break my sophomore year in the residence halls. My NJ Bffl introduced us on a whim and I thought he looked like a wretched degenerate with stoner eyes. (Ahhh true love). He had this long greasy hair always tied in a pony tail, wore these God awful beanies, and always looked like he had clothes that were meant for a 300lb man (he was tops 130...hey jealousy). I was thoroughly unimpressed with him, and the only thing he had going for him at the time was that he was straight. (Burn the gayzz! Seriously, I had an odd amount of angst for gay people. Yet I was all about being an activist....don't ask)

(Why yes this is the odd man who dated Mischa Barton and exposed his ballz to the world. Apparently he is a pop artist now. Drug Dealer #2 had this type of hair. blech)

I honestly thought nothing of him, that is, until he walked back in the doors from break looking like a completely different person. Drug Dealer #2 used his Winter break more productively than anyone else I had ever met. He cut off his hair and left this sloppy, yet perfectly placed, hair do. He got form fitting (even tight!) clothing and he shaved off his sorry excuse for a mustache (Seriously...I felt like I had walked into a 90s porno when I met him...). I literally didn't know it was him as he walked to the elevator and waved at me. 

(Why yes, he did end up looking like late 90s/early 00s teen heart throb Chad Michael Murray. And yes, I did have a massive soft spot for CMM...especially when he was on Dawson's Creek. Facts)

I was in shock and all I wanted to do was retract all of my previous statements about him and jump into the closest twin sized bed with him and find a way for two men to procreate. (Is it impossible? Yes. Would we ever stop trying? Hellz no!). I, somehow, weaseled my way into a random invite to hang out with him and some of his friends a few days after getting back from break. I spent the whole time making them laugh, which wasn't terribly hard because they were blazed and everything was funny to them. It still made my ego inflate three times its normal size (little victories..) and as I was leaving their room, Drug Dealer #2 pulled me outside to chat. 

Drug Dealer #2: Hey, so that was the most fun I've had in awhile. We should definitely hang out more, here's my number.

Me: Yeah totally, so much laughter. Uhhh ok well I just texted you so give me a call when you wanna hang out again.

Drug Dealer #2: Oh, I don't do that. You can call or text me when you want to hang out.

Me: Excuse me? You don't do what?

Drug Dealer #2: I don't contact people, people contact me. 

Me: Oh, well, good luck with that. I'm gonna wait til you text me now...so maybe see you never?

Drug Dealer #2: Wait, are you serious? Thats fuckin' dumb. Just text me later I wanna see you.

Me: I think I will wait it out. I don't need rules for having friends.

Yup, that happened. No matter how much you resemble my high school love fantasy, I am stubborn as a bull. I was very turned off by the cockiness of this man/boy who had just recently turned into hotty mchotterson. 

So I left and had no plans of talking to him again. Three days later I get a call from him around 11pm, to my general shock and awe. 

Drug Dealer #2: Look, I don't do this and I'm not sure why I'm doing this now, but come hang out with me

Me: Ohhh looky looky, you've decided I am good enough to contact. I am oh so pleased, I will have to ring my parents to tell them of this wonderful moment. (there is a very real reason I am still single...)

Drug Dealer #2: Fuck, Fabulous, just come upstairs. I just really want to see you. 

I literally had lost all the sassiness I had built up for this moment I wasn't even sure was going to happen. My jaw had hit the ground and I wasn't completely sure what to do with this weird new friendship that was about to begin. Drug Dealer #2 was dating another one of my friends at the time, who came with her own set of baggage, but she was very in-tune with the LGBT community. For some reason she used to tell me all the time that she thought Drug Dealer #2 was into me, but she wasn't perturbed by it at all...(like I said, she had her own baggage to worry about).

We had this friendship that confused the masses because he was such a big druggie and I wasn't into any of that at all. He would drop acid with his friends and then I would join them later and mess with them. (My favorite thing to do was tell them that the floor was the ceiling and the ceiling was the floor. I made one of them cry when I did that....little pleasures). While I had the initial attraction to Drug Dealer #2, after he had said all the stuff about not texting people to hangout I had lost most of that and thought of him purely as a friend. (A weird, drug dealing friend who drunk dialed me most nights...)

So, back to the original point, Drug Dealer #2 was my back-up apartment to sleep at when I couldn't sleep over with my straight male bffl. The second half of the summer it turned into at least one night a week over at Drug Dealer #2's apartment. At the beginning we would go out with a group of people, then it turned into only a few of us, and after a couple weeks Drug Dealer #2 was telling me he didn't really want to go out anymore. He asked me to stay in with him because he was going to try and stop drinking as much. (I pointed out the continued pot smoking, but that didn't seem to phase him). I agreed to stay in with him at least one of the nights I was in College Park.

Over the next few weeks, he began planning dinners for us in DC and finding movies and things for us to do. He was also doing all of it completely sober without any sort of drugs in his system. I thought I was really helping in turning over a new leaf. My friends began asking questions about the situation and implying that there might be something else there. I shot all of them down because I knew all I was doing was helping someone. Then I had a very real conversation with my best friend from elementary school.

Elementary Bff: You do realize you are dating him, right?

Me: Poppycock! I have no connections. I am free as a bird.

Elementary Bff: So what do you do with him when you hang out.

Me: We enjoy nice dinners in DC, go to museums, sometimes catch a movie or a play

Elementary Bff: And who pays?

Me: I...I mean, well, let me think about it. Uhh..you don't really pay for museums.

Elementary Bff: Don't be a tool

Me: I guess he pays for it, but I do drive alllll the way down here from home.

Elementary Bff: Yes, you drive down here to work and get paid. Paid money you don't ever have to use on the dates you go on with your Accidental Boyfriend

I didn't want to believe it but the facts were all there. I was just fooling myself into thinking we were just bosom buddies. (I hate myself for typing that...but I am going to leave it just the same). The thing that I left out of telling most of my friends is that when I would sleepover, I always slept in his bed and we would cuddle. Literally...just....cuddle. (I KNOW...I mean...I am really good at suppressing thoughts if I don't want them to be there). I had cuddled with straight male friends in the past so it wasn't that far off, but I never cuddled in bed with them. Ugh...I know....bad right?

There were still a few weeks left in summer and after all of the chatter between my friends, I had decided that I still needed a place to stay. I also wasn't opposed to free DC dates and a good cuddle with my high school imaginary t.v. lover. (I still hold a flame for Chad and hope he makes his comeback soon...). I decided to suppress any of the thoughts about me and Drug Dealer #2 having this pseudo-relationship and thought about trying to discuss it in the fall, once I had moved into my apartment, one building over from him...

When the school year began my life was a little overwhelming. I was taking 18 credits, working 2 jobs, an internship, an executive member of 3 clubs, and trying to maintain a social life. (I would call myself an overachiever but all you have to do is look at my transcript to know that wasn't the case). That first semester of junior year was extra brutal on me, and a lot of friendships suffered. One of the relationships that suffered was the one with Drug Dealer #2. He had been one of my only focuses over the summer and now I barely had time to talk to him on the phone. I tried to see him but life got in the way and after the first 3 weeks of the semester I began receiving drunk dials and voicemails. 

He would rant about how I didn't care about him anymore and how I had found new people to see. He would ask me if I still thought about him and if the summer meant anything to me. The next day I would receive a text or call apologizing and asking for a reminder of what he said. (Why yes, this does sound like the fight of two people who were in a committed relationship. No, no I never made an official commitment...confuddled.) This went on until November when he texted to let me know he was going to delete my phone number, which was good for me because I had started dating someone seriously a month or so prior. 

I was going through a break up for a relationship I barely knew I was a part of. The following year we ended up having an illicit affair after my serious relationship ended. Drug Dealer #2 then disappeared into thin air when college ended. He deleted his facebook and stopped contacting everyone he was ever friends with, including me. I found him a few weeks ago on the internet....he works to help birds migrate south for the winter. (I didn't realize they needed help...you know since its instinct. At least its a job?). I would go on to have pseudo-relationships with a couple other people, completely oblivious to the fact that they were relationships. This will always be my ultimate Accidental Boyfriend.

Fabulously Lost: Deaf, dumb, and blind. 

Drug Dealers: Real fixer-uppers. My specialty

Friendz: Usually right about your effed up life

Kentucky Gentlemen: My true life long friend.... 

Denial: Not Just An African River

I have mentioned before that I came out when I was 16yrs old to a group of people who were as surprised by my coming out as they were by Lance Bass coming out. (I'm still holding hope for J.T. to get rid of Jessica Biel and come out....a boy can dream). Right after I came out, I became one of those gay's who denounced the community and decided I was above stereotypes and a general need for the LGBT community as a whole. Over the next five years I continued to be a vigilante for the straight community, you know since they were experiencing so many hardships and needed my support, all while claiming to be the "New Typical Gay." Although, in the last 2 years I have embraced this community and called it my own and stopped being such a whiny biznatch about it. Recently, I have had time to reflect on just why I had such a snarky attitude for so long. It's all because of....Straight Men.

This seems like a no-brainer, but like most things in my life...it is not for the reasons you would suspect. I mean, of course, there are the societal pressures to "act straight" and be "masculine" because that's what we have been taught to do since we were really young. There are the general fears of being bullied and having hateful things spewed at you like venom. But, I have a tough skin and I could also give two shits about people who hate me for being gay. My concern is with those open-minded Straight Men who consider themselves to be friendly with the gays, but not completely aware of what being gay is or how it might affect them. 

I decided early on it was my mission to educate Straight Men and be their friend while also putting down ze gayz. I have had a bajillion conversations with Straight Men about how I came out and what the process was and without fail the conversation always has some variation of this: 

Straight Men: So, like, how did you know you were gay?

Me: I mean, just like you knew you were straight. I found men attractive and not the vag. 

Straight Men: Did you ever try being with a girl...sexually?

Me: Variations of "sexually" yes, and it was terrible. Have you tried being with a guy...you know to see if you were gay?

Straight Men: Whoa dude, no. I'm not gay.

Me: Yup, my same sentiments towards trying stuff with women.

Straight Men: So, like what kind of guys are you attracted to?

Me: If you are asking if I am attracted to you, the answer is no. (this is generally true...) I am not magically attracted to all men. 

Straight Men: Wait, so like you're not attracted to me at all? Why?

Me: Are you attracted to all women?

Straight Men: No. 

Me: I am not attracted to all men...soo...you fall under the group I am not attracted to. 

Straight Men: But like, what about me?

Seriously, most of these conversations end with these people being some level of confused at why I am not attracted to them. That's not to say that I have never had strong feelings towards a straight man....but usually when I do, I am able to be with them in some capacity, i.e. they are not 100% straight (Hehehe ...yeahh...get it girl).


With those select few Straight Men that I have found myself attracted to or decided to pursue I always enjoyed the chase. You know that scene in He's Just Not That Into You, where the interview different people on how they know when someone is interested? They flash to two gay guys and they say they know within like 3seconds, with just a glance, whether they want to sleep with someone or not and whether that person wants to sleep with them. That is the most accurate thing I have ever heard about the gay community in a movie about straight people.

(Loveee that the subtitles are in Spanish)

I really honed that skill in college with several people. The first person I really felt the need to pursue that was "straight" was someone I actually met when I was a senior in H.S. and he was a freshman at UMD and lived on my brother floor. I didn't really think much about him at first because the only thing I knew about him was that he was a Drug Dealer. Ok, ok....I know what you are thinking, but I was never really into that in college. I drank like a fish but I never felt the urge to do drugs, probably because they are all illegal. (The hypocrisy of drugs being illegal and bothering me yet the underage drinking didn't is not lost on me, I assure you). But for some reason, almost two years later Drug Dealer looked a lot more appealing to me and was suddenly this attractive man who had "lived a life" in college. 

We were randomly at the same parties at my brothers place and a few other friends along the way and we would always catch each others eyes. It always lasted longer than three seconds and I would get these intense butterflies as if something needed to happen. Then one night at the end of September we were at a party at my brothers place and there was a group us playing "Never Have I Ever" (because when you are 19 and drinking Natty Light you need to play "revealing" games....) Someone would say, every single time, "Never have I ever....been with a guy....sexually". Literally, without fail this question would be the first one asked because I was always the only gay male in the group and I would have to put my finger down, but it was a little different this time. 

Drug Dealer  was sitting next to me and hit me a couple times in the leg to show me that he put down half a finger. He then pulled me aside after the game to have a chat. 

Drug Dealer: Did you see my finger?

Me: Why yes yes I did? Whatever did you mean with half a finger?

Drug Dealer: Well, it means that I'm not sure and I'd like to explore I think?

Me: Aww well lots of people do that in college, thanks for telling me. Lemme know if you want to talk about it more?

Something was fishy but we went back to the party like it was nothing and just drank more delicious Natty Light. The next week we were at a different party (So...I partied a lot. get over it.) and at this one Drug Dealer pulled me into a bedroom to talk again. 

Drug Dealer: I've been thinking about this a lot and you a lot

Me: Well, what exactly have you been thinking about 

Drug Dealer: I think...well... *grabs me and kisses me*

Drug Dealer: Whoa, I just kissed you. We kissed. 

Me: Ummm yes, you did just kiss me.

Drug Dealer: I can't believe I just did that. I can't believe I just kissed...you. *said with a little bit more snark, seediness then I would like*

Me: Welp, I think I am good on insults tonight...thanks. 

I stormed out in drunk dramatic fashion (Surprissseeee) and headed towards drunk food with some friends. Drug Dealer began furiously texting me saying he wanted to talk about things and fix what he said. I was not having any of it, yet I enjoyed the banter and the pining that was filling my phone. Finally I agreed to walk with him to his place and get on the bus back to my residence hall once we had finished talking. 

Drug Dealer: First off, sorry I didn't mean to sound so disgusted. 

Me: You're a real charmer. I appreciate the apology, I often like to have this happen after a kiss. 

Drug Dealer: It's just that by kissing you, I was recognizing that I am not just straight.

Me: Shocker. 

Drug Dealer: Look, I liked kissing you. I want to do it again. Thats what freaked me out. 

Me: Well, I haven't had any complaints thus far. I accept your apology.

The conversation dragged on and we discussed his feelings and what to do with all of them. We also agreed that we didn't have any feelings for each other, but there was an odd mutual attraction. Once we got back to his place...I didn't end up getting on the bus and we ended up...finding other things to do. This back and forth continued over the next year or so. The last time we "spent time" together he left his wallet in my room when he left when I went to go to the bathroom. The funny thing is, I went to the bathroom to try and figure out how to get him to leave to not spend the night. I ended up throwing the wallet out my window to him and saying we should probably not do this again. I said that all out the window. From my 4th floor apartment. Because I'm classy. 

At some point along the way he stopped selling drugs and got clean and is now married to a girl. This seems to be a theme with the Straight Men I end up "dating" or "spending time", a lot of them are married to women. (No wonder I am single...I keep turning men straight...oof). This is just one of many tales of the Straight Men of my past and why I blame many of them for my denial of the gay community for so long. Every once in awhile I get a pang for that chase...but then I remember...I'm now to lazy for that ish. 

Straight Men: not attracted to all of them, chaser of some Questionable ones

Drug Dealer: A dealer of lovin' not druggin' for me

Fabulously Lost: Putting the puzzle together as to why I am single