A Glittery Guide to Getting Ready

A couple of weeks ago, I had this major epiphany that I wasn't taking an active role in my dating life. (I can literally hear you all going, "Uhh duh. All you write about is getting drunk and sports. Get. With. It." Please don't gay clap at me, I'm fragile.) So I made the executive decision to set up three dates with three different people before the middle of May. The only way I would divert from this plan would be if I fell madly in love with one of the first two gays and couldn't complete the trifecta. (HAHAHA... yeah, right, love.) So, I have done (sort of) just that!

I actually had a date this past Monday, and I have one set up for this upcoming Sunday! Instead of telling you about Monday's date — in complete fear that I will jinx it, because it went well — I am going to give you a A Glittery Guide to Getting Ready. ("Oh Fab! That's the title of the post too!" Yup, thanks genius... you really saw that coming.)

(These men are constantly in my head. Also, I wanted to do Kyan, bottom left. His. Name. Is. A. Seasoning. #intoit)

1. Grooming: This is something you should do all over. Start with the head. It's got to look fresh to death. You wanna make sure your quaff isn't an unruly mane. (Unless that's what you're going for — then make sure it is perfectly out of place. Must. Be. Perfect.) Don't stop there, though — you want to make sure every hair on your body is perfectly groomed and trimmed. (Ewww, why did I go there? BECAUSE THIS IS SERIOUS. THIS IS GAY DATING BOOTCAMP.) If you feel good, it shows through.  

(Groom yo self.)

2. Pump Up Music: I say this one because I have made the mistake before of playing methodical music before a date, and it has ended horribly. Playing Ingrid Michaelson or James Blunt (you know, the guy who sang the sad song about being beautiful) can easily put you in a thinking mood. You shouldn't be thinking before you get there. You end up doing things like deciding how you are going to fail at this potential relationship. You begin to pick apart all the things that this persons profile didn't match. You end up breaking up with him before you get on the date... because that's normal. (I may be speaking from experience, because I am coo coo for cocoa puffs crazy.) Anyways, listen to music that brings out the fun side of you and not the Emily-Dickenson-jump-off-a-bridge side of you. 

(Look how HAPPY she is. Bitty's been listening to happy music. You. Should. Too.)

3. Wear Shitty Underwear: "That seems super counterproductive, Fab. You just told us to look good on the outside, and we will feel good on the in. Now you are telling us to do the opposite — which is it?" Ugh, you are like ON TOP of shit today. I get it, this doesn't make sense... yet.

You see, from my many years of playing the field, I know that the only time someone wants to go out with you again is if there is a little mystery. I also know, from friends of course, that sometimes if you give up your goodies too early that mystery disappears. I also heard that that sometimes leaves you with a carton of ice cream and the Golden Girls wondering how Blanche Devereaux makes it through all of her lovers with her sanity intact.

To help me... I mean my friend... in this department, I say: Wear shitty underwear. If there is anything that gay men take pride in, it is their ridiculously expensive underwear. You do not want to be going to do the hokey pokey and showing off your off-brand ripped Target underwear. It's just not cute. 

(Soo... umm... yeah. It needed to be said. Sorry I'm not sorry.)

4. Dress the Eff Up: This isn't high school. Wearing a sweatshirt on a date is unacceptable, especially a first date. You have your favorite outfit/shirt, wear it. Hell, I don't care if you have a designated first date outfit because you feel good wearing it. (I would reevaluate it if you are still single and you wear it on all your first dates. Just sayin'.) You can dress appropriately for the climate; I am definitely not forcing anyone to always wear ties or pants. Just look good and find a friend to do a once over on you before you walk out the door. Spray on the expensive cologne to top off the outfit. Just make sure you don't bathe in it — there is nothing worse than a man who looks bangin' and smells like they fell in a vat of Ralph Lauren Polo. It ain't cute, yo. 

(If you happen to be Ryan, then you can wear whatever the eff you want. Because you're Ryan. Effing. Gosling. I think his middle name is Effing, I read it somewhere.) 

5. Bring Your Wallet: I have forgotten my wallet once before. This was a messy experience that led me to feel awkward and obligated. You should always bring your wallet because it holds your ID, and when you are over the age of 21, getting a drink on your date helps to lubricate the conversation. If you forget your wallet, you are unable to get that lubrication. This also presents the awkward conversation at the end of the date when the check comes. (Remember: You haven't had the social lubricant to make this convo easier, because you're an idiot) So you have to do the whole:

"Oh MAH GAWD, I'm a fool. I am so sorry. I will get our check the next time!"

And there you have it. You're a complete dumbass at this point. You not only forgot your wallet, so you can't drink, but because you haven't had that drink you don't think before you speak. Just like that, you sign up for another date with someone who you hoped would look better with your beer goggles on, AND YOU have to pay for it. So, please, tap your ass, check your purse, and make sure your wallet is with you. 

(FAHK)

6. Think of a Good Story: This one is all for you. If the date starts to tank and you don't know what to do, think back to your favorite story from another friend. It's usually 1/4 of the way into the date when I know if it is going to go anywhere. If the date is tanking, I start to make shit up about myself. 

• I lie about traveling. My favorite country to "visit" is Zimbabwe for its tropical atmosphere and the friendly people. Really great resorts. 
• I talk about famous people who I pretend to kinda know. I have "played" pool with Mark Wahlberg and "taken shots" with Lindsay Lohan — at the beginning of her downfall. 
• I tell little lies too, like going to sleep away camp most summers and having two dogs growing up. (I went to week-long sleep away camps and I had two turtles... not dogs.)
• I have also made the mistake of lying about moving. This used to be a rookie mistake — you never tell people you are going to do something and not follow through. I used to do this if things were really tanking, and I didn't want them to ask me out again. I was always moving to NY within the next month, except I never did. Then I would run into them at the bar and awkwardly clam up and take a shot by myself. Don't do this one. 

You see, it's not because I was trying to be mean, it's all because I secretly want to be an actor and I pretend to put on a character. (I'm normal. I swearrrrr.)  

(So many jokes, so little time.) 

Those are the six steps I use to get ready for my dates. Take them or leave them, they have done pretty solid over the last couple of years, exploring the tedious world of dating. I have gotten a few good stories and a few bad ones from following these. I also realize I just gave you advice on how to get ready for a date, and I am currently sitting on my couch in similarly colored sweats and gym shorts. Single. Someday, my friends, someday. 

Fab 5: My inspiration in life

Getting Ready: A glittery mess 

Dating: An expensive ugly beast

Fabulously Lost: Possibly looking for a new routine  

Recrap Thursdays: I'm Sassified

I was wrong everyone, I was wrong and I am oh-so-sorry because the truth is just that much better. Before I let you all into why I am wrong I would like to discuss a couple of other things. First, I think that TLC is changing my life, like literally day-by-day making it better and worse at the same time. This channel started off as "The Learning Channel" and now it is the creator of Train Wrecks galore. As I sat down to watch this weeks episodes of my new favorite show "Here Comes Honey Boo Boo" they played a series of commercials coming this fall. Let me tell you, don't be surprised if I never leave my house. Below are just a couple of the ones I might start watching religiously (i.e. missing social events, canceling dates, calling into work sick, and becoming a reality T.V. recluse)

• Abby and Brittany- It's about two girls. They share a body. (Whhhhhaaaatttt) They have two heads and one of everything else. All the cameras are going to do is follow them around and see what crazy hijinx these crazy girl(s) get into as people stare at them and they do normal tasks. Now, before you begin getting all "Fabulous, that's terrible they are making them a freak show", every single person on that channel signed contracts. They are getting paid, lots of money. Hell, I'd let someone stare at me for 30-60min a week if I was making loads of money (*cough cough*  Bravooo *cough cough*)

• Breaking Amish- I love that they chose a title that would make people think of the show that is about the meth-dealing former science teacher (Breaking Bad). I love to know everything about being Amish. I am fascinated by it and confused by it at the same exact time. MTV did a True Life episode about people who were ex-Amish a few years back and I have probably watched it 5 or 6 times, easily. I love all of the Dateline, 20/20, and other "real news" shows that feature stories about the Amish. I especially enjoy learning about the teens who go off on a "rumspringa", which basically means that they choose to be baptized within their church....or leave. They also have to choose at 16. SMART MOVE AMISH PEEPS. Who, at 16, is stable enough to be like "Peace fam, I'm gonna support myself with no high school degree and absolutely no idea how technology works." Anywhoz, this show is about Amish peeps leaving their Amish lives and exploring New York City. (I'm already hooked)

(A thousand times yes to everything in this photo)

They have a slew of other slightly deplorable shows in their line-up returning from last year that will be sporadically added to the mix of reality drudge I watch on a regular basis. I just want to personally thank TLC for allowing me to learn about things I never knew existed, and teaching me absolutely nothing that I can use in real life. Bravo, you dirty girl, bravo. 

Now....onto.....Honey Boo Boo!

I thought last week was a 2fer because it was the season premier, little did I know upon arriving home from my rowdy night at the local movie theatre, there were TWO back to back episodes of Honey Boo Boo for me to watch. I was elated, scared, and ready for my new favorite night of the week to begin. Each episode begins with a shot of the entire family smiling, interrupted by Mama's passing gas and the family breaking up in disgust. (How can you not be captivated by this?) The magic only continues on from there and I was on the edge of my seat. 

I have decided I want to be Alana's (Honey Boo Boo herself) best friend. This girl is HIGHsterical and constantly shooting zingers out at the family over random things. She enjoys and embraces being a redneck almost as much as her mother. Her best friends are her sister Chubbs and her pig Glitzy. I would like to be added to that list. 

In the first episode of the evening (entitled "She Oooo'd Herself), we are taken on a trip to the local Piggly Wiggly so Mama can do some extreme couponing to save money for Alana's upcoming pageants. The issue I have with her extreme couponing is that Mama is buying things she doesn't need. She saves all of these coupons and hopes to save lots of money, and whatever she "saves" she puts towards Alana's pageants. But she isn't really "saving" because she is getting things like free toilet paper (which we find out she has enough for the entire state of GA for at least six months). We find out in the episode, that Mama, is actually fairly good at math...but only when it comes to finding out pricing...she can't handle it outside of the grocery store. (She also has a glorious "math coupon" face)

(There was a noise that went with it too...)

After we are taken on the couponing adventure we get a sneak peak at the new coach that they have hired to help Alana become the Grand Supreme at the "Rock Star Pageant." (This is what the whole season is leading up to and it makes my heart sing. Can.Not.Wait.) The coach is this intense woman with massive facial expressions who is apparently "world-renowned" as a pageant coach. They practice inside of, what I can only assume, is the coach's home which is a wood cabin of sorts with lots of animal heads. Alana also has an adorable moment when the coach asks her if she knows who Elvis is and Alana responds with:

Alana: Elvis is....is...Santa Claus' Helper. Sugar Bear told me so, so that's who he is.

Now, Sugar Bear (her dip-chewin' semi-mute of a father) is obviously terribly wrong, but it's in these moments where you realize she is a six-year old girl and not just the catchphrase-making dolled up girl TLC has created. 

We cut to the kitchen of their house (which is surrounded by an over abundance of things due to the couponing and the lack of places to put things.) and it is that time of the week for all of them to weigh-in. In the last episode they decided to do a weight loss challenge with Chubbs and Mama, no terms were set and there was no prize at the end....but it was listed as a challenge nonetheless. Both of them had moved down and were celebrating their weight loss when Glitzy, the family's new pig, decided it was time to release himself. (Alana decided last week that Glitzy was going to be a "gay pageant pig" and she was going to refer to him as her). This caused the family to freak out and back away from the table as Alana exlaimed:

Alana: We put Glitzy on the table....and she ooooo'd herself

Ahh, how wonderfully pleasant it must be to live in this house. Just as fast as we had a bonding moment over weight loss, we are taken across town to Mama's moms house for Chickadee's babyshower. (How could we forget the 17yr old pregnant sister?!?!). As they are setting up for the babyshower we are listening to Mama talk about her life as a teen Mom.

Mama: I had Chickadee when I was fifteen and it was real hard. Her baby daddy isn't in the picture and neither was mine. We gonna help her with what we can but she gonna have to take care of her self. You done the deed, you do the time.

Beyond the gramatical mishaps plaguing this interview, I was caught off guard by the fact that she said Chickadee's father wasn't in the picture. But...but...I thought Sugar Bear was the father of all her babies. I'm left feeling lost, confused, betrayed, and a little angry with Sugar Bear...but I don't know exactly why I am angry at him. 

(Classic Dawson)

Anywhoz, Chickadee has a super redneck babyshower that is sweet...but they also had baby bottle drinking contest. The first episode comes to a close with Chickadee cursing about how much she hates Glitzy, who squealed her/his way through the entire shower. 

The second episode, entitled "I'm Sassified" was definitely my favorite of the two episodes. This whole episode, more-or-less, focused on Mama and Sugar Bear's eighth anniversary. Hold up, hold up, hold up. Wtf? How can they only be together 8 years? There daughters are 17, 15, 12, and 6. If my math is as good as Mama's couponing, which I believe it is, that means Sugar Bear is only the father of Alana. 

Turns out, my math is right. Mama explains that Sugar Bear is only the father of Alana and that the other girls all have different baby daddies. (I am at a complete and utter loss as to how I am completely single, yet this one has had 4 baby daddies since she was 15. Amurika.) And that, ladies and gents, is how I was wrong. I just ASSUMED that redneck love was stronger than the rest of our love. I just ASSUMED Sugar Bear and Mama had a relationship that bordered on super creepy. I just ASSUMED and when you ASSUME, you make an ass out of you. (Not me, because...well. eff you).  Sugar Bear has so much play time in this episode and it is just so wonderful. He is full of his own gemz, when you can understand him through his dip chewing and mumbled expressions of love for Mama.

To prep Alana for her pageant and to do something nice for all of the girls, Mama takes them all to the spa to get facials/pedicures. This is a sweet gesture, which means that something has to happen that is freakish or weird...and oh, does it deliver. Mama and Alana  are shown first getting facials and having a nice moment before they cut to the other girls getting pedicures. In between moments of the girls saying and doing ridiculous things, they show one of the pedicurists, who has a look of sheer disbelief, explaining how it was dealing with all of these women. She kept saying, "They all have such big personalities, I think I should go home." (Oh, pedicurist, they just made you famous, the most famous you will be that is,...just hush now...shhh just let it happen)

It's at this point that we find out that Mama has forklift foot. (I just, I just don't know, I just can't) Which she explains in detail to the pedicurist.

Mama: A few years ago, when I was working in the factory, a forklift ran over my foot. And now I have Forklift Foot. I never take off my socks or show people my feet. 

So, we finally found the line Mama won't cross on this show, and that's showing her forklift foot. She will exploit her family, herself, her town...but forklift foot is OUT of the question. Good to know Mama, good to know. At the end of the spa visit the woman asks them if they feel "Beautimous." Now, I thought this was something that Mama made up last week when she talked about her "vajiggle jaggle" (Which is what she calls all of the skin that encompasses her three chins...her words, not mine). Apparently, many people in the south say things like "Let's get beautimous" or "I feel beautimous". I am extremely intrigued...is this true? Do people really use this to describe themselves? HELP ME FIGURE THIS OUT.

(This is what I think Mama would look like if she was all done up...)

Anywhoz, the girls get Mama all gussied up for her date and Sugar Bear drives her to a cafeteria-esque place. They cut to interviews with both of them discussing how they came together and fell in love. 

Sugar Bear: It was love at first sight. I have asked her to marry many times, if she ever says yes I will do it in a heartbeat.

See what Mama says about the whole thing:

Mama: Was it love at first sight? No. Was it bed at first sight? Maybe. Gotta test the milk out before you buy the cow. 

And there you have it, now we understand why Mama has 4 baby daddies and why this last one has stuck around for so long. Sugar Bear gives Mama a brass deer that she openly tells him is a foolish gift and he should've gotten her candles. Sugar Bear explains in an interview that he got it for her because it represents the times they have spent hunting, chopping, carving, cooking, and eating roadkill over the last 8 years. (This is oddly romantic....well as romantic as you can be when discussing roadkill). They eat their dinners and "try to be romantic" with Sugar Bear getting "smooches" every once in while...in between Mama missing her mouth and having a hard time using the fork. 

Meanwhile, back at the house, the girls are tee-peeing the house with some of the rolls of toilet paper that Mama has gotten for free from the Piggly Wiggly. Alana lets the audience know that this is their gift to them for their anniversary. Only would a redneck think that vandalism is the proper gift for an eighth anniversary. (Don't they know paper is the 1st anniversary gift). Mama arrives back home and is NOT happy with anything that has happened. Sugar Bear, on the other hand, finds this all so amusing. So much so that he takes time out of his dip chewing to let us know. How sweet. 

Mama: You just wasted 6 months of toilet paper. Thats six months of butt wiping. 

Girls: It's free. You got it for free. We didn't waste your money. You never appreciate us. 

I will remember that tee-peeing your parents house is how you show appreciation. Sorry Mom and Dad, I promise to use Charmin's Ultra Soft Brand.

The episode closes out with them going to get Alana a new dress for her pageant. She ends up sassing the dress maker as Mama sits back and laughs. They also decide to get a dress made for Glitzy so they can incorporate him/her into the next pageant routine. All good pageant winners have pigs in their routines. All of them. 

Tomorrow, I will update you with some love-life type things and continue this beautiful disaster I call life. OH...next week I will be posting a drinking game for Honey Boo Boo....so get ready to get SLOSHED on a Wednesday....or whenever you DVR it for. 

Honey Boo Boo: tricking a nation and making millions

GA: Getting a bad rap

Glitzy: Needz to call animal control

Fabulous: Shock. And. Awe. 

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.

Black Bieber: I'm a Blieber?

My life in the last couple months has been in shambles (more than usual, jerks) and I use my weekends as my time to let loose on a lot of the frustrations I have. My wonderful friends have been supportive and have let me crash on their couches and in their beds (mostly girls...mostly...). This past weekend was no different though it was a bit more shamble-y than normal. On Friday I found myself enticed with Black Bieber, and I am not really ashamed.

(ok...maybe I'm a little ashamed...)

I'd like to first provide you with a little context of how I met Black Bieber and how this night came about. Full disclosure....I have a girlfriend. I know, I know it's shocking. How can this flaming homosexual have a girlfriend? How does she not know he is gay? IS there something wrong with her? Well, to sort of answer that,  she is one of my original friends from college and we became a couple in a moment that I remember vividly, and she remembers in theory. It was a August 27th, 2007 and we had just moved into our residence hall at UMD. It was 1:30am when there was a knock at my door and there was girlfriend and her roommate, mistress (this will make sense in a minute... actually, it won't but whatevs) completely and totally drunk. 

mistress: We like that you are gay

girlfriend: I want you to be my gay boyfriend

mistress: And I want to be your mistress

Me: Doesn't sound like I have much of a choice do I?

girlfriend: Nope, not really *Lunges forward and kisses me*

*mistress then lunges forward and full on makes out with me*

And ever since then girlfriend and I have celebrated our month anniversaries as little accomplishments. It's sad that this is the longest and healthiest relationship either one of us has ever been in. (I know, I know its a shocker...maybe I should have "chosen" to be straight. I seem to be more successful...) This past Friday was our 56th month anniversary and we decided to celebrate it the best way we know how...with drinks at a gay sports bar followed up by dancing at a gay club. (girlfriend is secretly a gay man on the inside, she prefers to hit up ze gay bars. This may be why she is single, verdict is still out on why I am still single....ok, ok we all obviously know why I am still single, rude.)

We had dinner at Nellie's (the gay sports bar in DC where I am 90% certain no one gives a fuck about the sports on the screens. They are there for "kitschy" decorations, which is a stereotype I embrace) with an old friend from college to catch up. It was a fairly long dinner where shots were taken and men were stared at. At the end of dinner I was exhausted and girlfriend and I were both yawning, but I had promised some of my gay DC friends I'd make an appearance at a birthday party down the street and I am nothing if not a people pleaser. 

When we got there we were immediately ushered over to the drinks table and my friend Erik made me the strongest drink known to man and convinced us to make our way back to Nellies for a drank. I was so tired and wanted to go back home and sleep, but I felt obligated to go at least for one drink. (I know, shocker, I feel obligated to drink.) In my mind I kept saying to myself: 

I had to get my shit together so I could show girlfriend a night full of glitter, rainbows, and happiness. When we got to Nellie's we ordered a drink and a shot and I decided to put my head into the game and work it out. I was always told not to be a quitter (I am not sure my parents meant this for drinking, but at least I am applying the things I learned. baby steps...) When everyone decided to go to Town (big, gay, sweaty dance bar) we decided our night had not run its course yet and went along with them. As soon as we got in we grabbed drinks and listened to a little Britney Spears. After getting a little liquored up we made our way upstairs to the main dance area. It was packed and we were finally in the right state to be up there. We found our friends and began dancing our hearts out. 

Slowly we started noticing our friends disappearing and before long it was just the two of us surrounded by a sea of men and some women. (haha...seamen..semen...haha I'm 12) girlfriend was hit on multiple times by various lesbians tryna get a little piece of her Armenian lovin'. Like any good friend she wasn't focused on making a lesbian connection, we were focused on each other and the beats that were taking over our bodies. And then it happened, a gorgeous 6'2" black man walked up to girlfriend and began talking to her. 

GB(gorgeous black man): Hey are you two....together?

girlfriend: Nope just friends dancing

GB: Do you mind if I step in and dance with him?

Without words girlfriend started to walk away and letting him know that it was a-okay to dance with me. My heart stopped. I wasn't able to process everything that was going on. He sauntered closer to me and we began dancing furiously to the beat and holding each other closer and closer, both a little hot and bothered in this room that had become a sauna. And then....then he kissed me. 

Maybe because I have been on so many dates with white dudes recently, but this felt like home. The saying is true...once you go black, you don't go back. It just felt right. Obviously, the classy guy that I am, I danced and macked it with him for awhile before thinking about checking on girlfriend, who had so graciously sacrificed herself so I could get a little lovin'. Just as I turn around I find her dancing with an attractive, shirtless, black man. Turns out he is GB's friend who had been really into girlfriend. (Is this really happening? Is this random night turning into a love connection? IS HE GOING TO BE MY BOYFRIEND???? i have issues I need to work through obviously....)

After a little bit more mackin' it GB  told me he had to go to the bathroom with his friend and he didn't want me to leave (so sweet, our first date is turning out so great! shhh, just let me have this) He gave me his number just in case I couldn't find him. (omgz its so serious guyz! preppin' to meet the fam next where they tell me I am what GB has needed for so long) girlfriend and I gab about the hotties we have bagged and how wonderful and glittery this night has been. How stupid were we to think that we should have gone to sleep instead of going out and meeting my husband! (yup...marriage is always on the mind. suck it) 

When they got back, the two gorgeous men pulled us up on stage and I started immediately mackin' it with GB so everyone in the club would know the man I was with. (I felt like a dog peeing on a house..this is MY man bitches, get in line! muhahaha) I decided at this point it may be a good idea to find out a few of the essentials...like his name.

Me: Sooo do you live around here?

GB: Oh, uh, yeah kinda. Not far. 

Me: Cool, so interesting! What do you do for a living? Are you an accountant, financial advisor, work for the government? (I had decided he worked as a lobbyist on the hill...)

GB: Uh well I am in school right now. Just studying away!

Me: Thats cool too, some people take some extra time to graduate. Are you a fifth or sixth year senior? Not that it matters! (I had now decided he was supporting his whole family while going to school! So noble! )

GB: Nope I go to community college, its my first year *Kisses me before I can say anything*

Me: Did you just get a late start to school? I know a lot of people who go back later. (I had now decided he had tried to start his own business when he left h.s. and that to make it a bigger business he wanted to get a college degree....so many excuses)

GB: Errr..no. I didn't take any time off

Me: Sooooo.....how old are you?

GB: My friend and I are both 18.

WHAAAAATTTTTTTT?!?!?! Nooooooooooooo!!!!!!! This isn't happening to me! It can't happen! I'm dying. This is what death feels like. I finally find an attractive, beautiful, black man and he is 18. I am almost 6 years older than him. I felt dirty. I felt wronged. I felt like the end of the world had just happened. I pulled on his hand and saw massive "X's" and I couldn't begin to process these emotions. Luckily for me GB and his shirtless friend needed to go to the bathroom, again telling me not to go anywhere. I turned to girlfriend and told her of our predicament, and do you know what she did? Do you know how she handled my heartbreak? She laughed. A lot. A loud hardy laugh. And kept saying "At least I didn't make out with mine" RUDE. We bolted out of the club before they got back and immediately got into a cab. On the way home we discussed all the reasons why this age difference was wrong.

1. When we entered college, they were entering 7th grade

2. When we were having our first drinks, they were discussing the SAT's

3. A majority of photos in this post won't make sense to them 

4. By the time they could legally drink, we will be closer to 30 than I'd like to admit

5. They probably know all the teletubby names 

6. THEY WERE BORN IN THE MID-90s

girlfriend just kept repeating that I had found my Black Bieber. And I will admit, if this tall attractive black man had been a multi-millionaire, my list of reasons why it shouldn't happen would go out the door. BUT, thats not what happened and instead I am left feeling like "To Catch a Predator" is waiting outside my door at all times. 

(This is the photo we left for the cabby on our way home...)

Fabulously Lost: Heartbroken and possibly wanted by Chris Hansen 

girlfriend: Still my only healthy relationship

Black Bieber: Too hot too trot, and still 18

Town: Where my dignity might be in the lost and found