Bro's and Sisters?

I was put into an interesting predicament recently that was partially my fault. It has been a really long time since I have gone on more than one date with a person. I have become a first date connoisseur of sorts. I can tell almost instantly when it is going to fail and at what point I am going to bail. You'd think with expertise knowledge like this I would have mastered the rest of dating...but that is neither here nor there. Now this little tale is actually about how I have handled my recent excursion into the world of the unknown...also known as "Date 2 and Beyond."

I met this gentleman like I meet most of my gentlemen friends...online. We sparked a conversation up after he gave me a "high" rating of 4 out of 5 stars on OkCupid. Now, riddle me this, why did I feel that I should message this person after they decided I was ONLY worthy of 4 stars? I am obviously a 5 star stud. (Hardy har har...I mean...at least 4.5 right? RIGHT?). Anywhoz, whatever reasoning I had for accepting this date has abandoned ship and a part of me wishes I could take it back...but I will explain why in a bit. 

We went back and forth for a bit and decided to meet up for dinner and exchange numbers. He seemed like a fairly decent white guy from right outside of Baltimore, except...well...except he was a Bro. That's right, in all of his photos he was doing bro-y things like drinking beer and being rowdy and liking sports and weird stuff that makes me feel even more homosexual than I actually am. (Didn't think I could feel more homosexual...but I did). I tried to rationalize this by telling myself that maybe he will take care of me like bro's sometimes take care of their girlfriends. I like being taken care of. This was going to be a success. 

(I am constantly confused on how I am supposed to greet my male friends. Do we hug? Do we slap each others backs violently. WTF? No seriously...someone tell me..)

Broseph and I decided to meet on a Sunday evening at a pub not too far from my house. He lived on the opposite side of Baltimore so we decided to try and find something in the middle. But I lied. I didn't feel like driving too far from my house on a Sunday and I claimed that this restaurant in Catonsville was mid-way, except it was 10min from my house and 30 from his. The sick part...I felt like I had given myself the upperhand by choosing this place. He was now traveling a far distance just to see me. SEE WHAT GIVING ME 4 STARS GETS YOU?!?! (It's the little realizations that help me understand why I am single..)

He rolled in a little late since he didn't realize how far the restaurant was...not that I had any room to be upset. I had also already downed a gin and tonic so everything was gravy with me at that point. We ended up sitting and talking for a really long time. He opened up about his family and work and all that jazz. Tony Bromo was kinda boring but nice, plus he fed me a good amount of attention. I even ended up paying for dinner because I felt bad about making him drive further, though I didn't tell him. (I would make an AWFUL Mean Girl. Sorry Regina, I will not wear pink on Wednesday)

He then did something that made me want to see him again. Brofessor X kissed me in the rain as he walked me to my car. It was magical. It was like out of a movie. I was swept off my feet. So I immediately agreed to the second date and couldn't wait for the next cheesey cliche to happen. What I wasn't ready for was how to decide what I could and couldn't do between our dates. The night before our second date was the night that I met Black Bieber.  So I obviously didn't feel a dire need to be a one-man kinda guy yet. Our second date came and went with a casual lunch and museum walk. There was something amiss and I was desperately clawing at trying to figure out what was wrong with this gentleman. 

Our third date was planned for the following Sunday and we were supposed to do dinner and a movie. The Friday before our date I decide to go out dancing with some friends in Baltimore at the gay bar. The more I drink the more I want attention. Like a lot of attention. Like I want to be fawned over and desired and I will take it from anything that moves that has the dangly parts between their legs. (Surprisseeee...I'm classy).  I'm furiously texting with Han Brolo who was contemplating visiting me at the bar which is something I was obviously pushing for. 

The only person left with me at the bar was one of my best friends who is on the verge of black out. When she gets drunk she gets T-Rex arms...and does some....interesting things. I turn around to tell her about Broheim coming and T-Rex is flicking a shirtless shot-man's nipple piercings. (same thing as a shot-girl except a man...because we are gay and like men better. Duh.) As I was about to pull her back from this, a shirtless man grabbed my arm and began mackin' it with me. Not one to be a prude I obviously obliged in my altered state. A few minutes into this random sesh I get a text message from Brotastic letting me know he was about to enter the bar. 

(This perfectly describes my feelings at that moment)

I pulled away from Shirtless Man immediately and tried to explain why we had to stop mackin' it. 

Me: Hey...so this is awkward but this guy I am going on a third date with on Sunday is about to come in the bar

Shirtless Man: Your boyfriend is about to walk in the door? Wtf??

(he did actually say W-T-F, because we are apparently in h.s.)

Me: No, no. We are going on our third date on Sunday. Definitely not my boyfriend

Shirtless Man: So you two are dating?

Me: No, no. There is something missing and I am not sure what it is. I mean he smokes which is unattractive but there is something off. I'm taking the third date to figure it out. He cliche kissed me in the rain so I'm giving him points for that. I just don't know.

Shirtless Man: I just want to know if we have to stop making out...I don't care about your fucked up logic.

Me: A little harsh, but understandable. We should just be friends...you're a good kisser though. 

As I turn around to talk to T-Rex, I get a tap on the should and there is Han Brolo smiling and pulling me in for a hug. He takes me to the dance floor where we start dancing and mackin' it...almost exactly where I was dancing with Shirtless Man. I stop for a moment and notice over his shoulder that Shirtless Man is glaring at us from the other side of the room. He is slowly plunging eye daggers into Brotimus Maximus as we move back and forth interlocking lips every once in awhile. Searching for ways to fix this situation before in escalates I am given a pass out of nowhere. 

T-Rex saunters up to me and tells me she is ret-ta-go and needs to leave now. Thanking little baby Jesus I turn to my Brofriend and tell him I need to be a good friend and take her home. She tells me to wait just one more minute as she spins around and walks up to the pierced shot-man and flicks his nipple and belly button piercings one more time. Saved by the bell I return to her place and pass out wondering how I am going to deal with our next date. 

Brozilla texts me before our date on Sunday and asks me if we can do dinner and a movie at his place instead of out to save some $$$. I go back and forth for about an hour before deciding I am willing to make this trek to his house solely because I feel guilty about the other night. Things that I know about his house before I arrive: He lives with his older sister, he has lived there for a couple years, it's in the middle of nowhere outside of Baltimore. Little did I know I would be finding out exactly what was "missing" and why I couldn't fully connect to this otherwise decent human being. 

When I arrived at the house I was greeted by his sister who told me Rambro was finishing up cleaning and would be up in 5 minutes. We shared some awkward conversation and about 20min later he rose from the basement just to let me know he was going to take a 10minute shower to get fresh for me. I smiled and said it was fine and then the interactions got rulllll weird. 

Broseiden: Hey sis, are you going to start making dinner?

Sis: Yeah I was just about to get started! I am making your favorite. 

Broseiden: I can't wait! Fab, she is the best cook ever. You'll be getting a great dinner tonight! 

Sis: Oh hush! You know I love cooking for you. So sweet. 

She then pulls out a jar of Ragu sauce and pasta. Now, I am not one to be snooty or rude or look down on the way people cook, but don't tell me that this is there idea of what a good cook is. You can tell a 10 year old to put that together. Ok, ok I am now ignoring the elephant that has just entered the room. WHY THE HELL IS SHE COOKING DINNER FOR US???? (You were afraid I wasn't going to talk about it, right? Ohhh just you wait)

Immediately my mind went to Friends, like it does when I need help figuring out most of my life situations, and the date Rachel went on with the guy who was super close with his sister. I began to panic.   (Go to 2:42....its only funny when it's not happening to you) I kept telling myself that this was just a blip and that she was just cooking for us to save us time. She wasn't going to eat with us. They both know this situation is weird, right?

The answer is no. They didn't realize this was weird and she joined us for dinner and also dominated the conversation. They talked about their Mothers Day plans and their other siblings. They talked about how long they had lived together and all 2 of her ex-boyfriends. They discussed me like I wasn't really there and they discussed our future dates. Our. Future. Dates. I tried not to laugh out loud at the thought that there would be future dates after this. Once she was finished her food I guess she decided to head out and let us finish the date on our own. 

Sis: So are you guys going to watch a movie up here?

Brosie Brodonnell: Oh I don't know, we might watch up here or down in my room.

Sis: Ok, well you can watch any of my DVD's. I have all the seasons of Gilmore Girls, it's a really good show. You should check it out. 

Brosie Brodonnell: Sounds good. Thanks for the amazing dinner sis! 

Do I really need to say anything about that? Gilmore Girls? Really? Ok cool, thanks for that little nugget of information about this show. Oh but the best is yet to come. We begin watching some movie on HBO before we begin mackin' it a bit. He stops and asks if I would like to finnish the movie in his room. Being the classy lady I am, I decide to agree and see where the night takes me. 

When we get downstairs there is not a T.V. or computer in site. He basically told his sister that we would either be watching a movie or hooking up. WHO TELLS THEIR SIBLING THAT WHEN THEY ARE IN THE SAME HOUSE?!?! I am extremely close with both my brothers and we joke about our escapades at different times but we never tell each other whats going to be going down when we are in the same house. 

All of this led to me leaving dissatisfied with the date but finally satisfied with why I felt so off about this creature. To all the Bro's out there....never invite your sister on a date with you. You already have the Bro thing working against you. 

Fabulously Lost: Smart gut feeling, poor life choice maker 

Bro's: Need not apply

Shirtless Black Men: The more the merrier

Marriage???

Alright, so I know that there has been a lot going on in the last 72 hours dealing with gay marriage and I decided I wanted in on the discussion. I feel like it is kinda like the massive elephant in the room if I don't discuss it, since all of my posts thus far have been about me trying to find "The One." But I want to take it a completely different way than you might think that I am going to take this post. Obviously I am for gay marriage and I shed several tears when Obama-rama decided to support gay marriage....

(Okay...so maybe I felt a little bit like Sally Fields...)

I'd rather give you all the reasons why I think you should let me marry whoever I'd like, besides the fact that it's basic human rights. Plus, my decision to marry will not stop the dysfunctional heterosexual marriages occurring on Teen Mom. (Pinky promise I will continue to let this happen if this is the last thing I do...)

Soooo let's get started shall we?

1. I will have the most fabulous wedding known to (wo)man.

          Did this not occur to anyone? How wonderful weddings will be if the gay's had a crack at them? You honestly think the Royal Wedding has anything on my wedding? There will be doves and live bands  (yes multiple bands) and it will be the biggest thing to hit whatever city I am residing in. 

          I wholeheartedly plan on getting married during one of the coldest months of the year because I suffer from...from...sweat. I have mentioned this before that I am someone who sweats when I exert the slightest bit of effort. (During Snowpocalypse '10 I walked about half a mile and had to begin stripping because I was sweating. IN. A. BLIZZARD) So the wedding industry, which has its lull in the winter, will have new life breathed into it when I get married. This wedding will be a winter wonderland of epic proportions and I plan on having everyone I know there. I tell people all the time that I am not sure if I want a small intimate wedding or a medium sized one...and thats a bunch of bullshit. If I could televise my wedding I would. I have no shame and I am a little bit vain. (shut it...I am admitting to being a little vain, let me have a moment). I won't be a Groomzilla, but there are things that I have been dreaming about doing for some time. 

           The only thing I have set in stone is that my two brothers will be my best men and I know what song I want to dance with my mother to. (I know...I'm a horrible person! I can see why people don't want me to get married. Having my FAMILY be the most important part in my wedding....disgusting)

2. I want to be the Angelina Jolie of the Gays.

          Now, I have a hard time admitting to this because I am on Team Jen (yes that is still going on in my mind and I will always stand up for Rachel Green), but Angelina is such a frickin' good person in all other areas of her life. I mean the woman isn't the best actress in the world but she has adopted most of Africa...how can you hate on that? 

           You may be asking what this has to do with gay marriage and in my mind it has everything to do with gay marriage. I am someone who believes it is better to have two parents than one. This in no way puts down single parents, I have so much admiration for them, but wouldn't it be a little easier to have a partner in the situation? So for me, I want to be married before I start exploring the option of children. At this moment in time, depending on the state I live in (I'm side-eying you, southern states) this would mean that I would never be allowed to become the Angelina Jolie of the Gays. 

             I want to be able to adopt some of the kids from Africa that Angelina can't get to. It's gotta be a burden on her shoulders to have the world wondering when you are going to take on another country or continent of people in need. That's where I come in! I am young and full of life and ready. 

(THESE ARE MONSTERS!!! It looks like they are trying to read a newspaper to her. DON'T THEY KNOW PRINT MEDIA IS DEAD!!!! She will surely be behind in school now.)

3. The Bible told you to let me...

       Wait...what?? HOW in the WORLD does this make sense?? (I must be on crack! GAY crack!) But in all seriousness...yeah the Bible told you so. 

        I grew up in a fairly religious household where we went to church most Sundays and attended Sunday School and got confirmed and volunteered with them and made a difference in my community. I never went up in flames stepping in the church for being gay and I was never forced to leave after I came out (which I did publicly at my church in 2006). Now, I have had my spats with religion and I still have some issues that I am working out, as any 20-something does, but I was taught the same thing from the time I was little until now.  It's the basis of most religions actually:

³⁴ “A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another."

It doesn't say "love everyone but the gays" and it doesn't say "As I have loved you...but not you gays you're shit outta luck, everyone else I still love ya. HUGS." So how are you showing me any love, like GOD told you to, if you don't allow me to experience the highs, lows, and everything in between of marriage. 

4. I'd like to have the option to divorce...

         (I might be on gay crack....) Don't you think the Lifetime Movie Network needs some new ideas? I think it would be riveting television to watch the demise of a gay marriage on television on the most dramatic network. If I ever get divorced (which I won't cause I...well just cause, rude.) it is going to be just as epic as my wedding. I want it splashed on the tabloids and for it to make it into every blog and magazine known to man. I want the divorce itself to make me money because of the exclusive headlines. I am obviously going to either be independently wealthy or marry into wealth, so it will be messy with no prenup. 

           Does this sound ridiculous? I mean...I am a little fabulous, so this makes a little bit of sense, but isn't this what we have been taught. We keep discussing how Kim Kardashian had a 72 day marriage and made millions, Britney Spears was married and divorced inside of 55hrs, and Kelsey Grammar broke up his 15 year marriage over the phone. We talk about if these people can get divorces, then the gays should be allowed to get married? Why can't we all experience this lovely depiction of marriage and divorce?

             OR....let's all stop discussing all of the horrible things heterosexual couples have done for marriage and comparing it to how gay's should have the right to marry. I don't give a flying flip what a heterosexual couple does with their money, with their marriage, or with their families... All I want is the right to experience all of that as a married person. I want the option to marry, divorce, remarry, or stay single. 

Those are just  a few of the reasons why I want to get married...or want the opportunity to. I am a fabulous 20-something gay man with big dreams for my wedding and hopefully one day I will be able to share it with all of you. 

Fabulously Lost: Still single...don't worry kids

Obama: Grew a pair in the last year. Woot woot! 

Gay Marriage: One rainbow away from bringing this economy back on its toes

Gay Divorce: One broken rainbow away from a Lifetime Movie 

Jesus: Best Surprise Cameo in a Gay 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 

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 

Mickey Mouse Club: Adult Edition

I don't know if you have been following or not, but I have gone on quite a few dates with people that seem to resemble cartoon or t.v. characters in some way or another. There was the man who walked exactly like Betty Boop, and the wealthy but cheap Dr. Chandler Bing, and most recently the beloved Harry Potter half-giant Hagird. Maybe it's because I have this incessant need to date all the fictional characters I have loved over the years or maybe its because I am just that blind when it comes to finding love, but this story is no different from the others.

I sometimes wonder if I will forever be stuck in a cycle of singledom because of the peculiar choices I make in men. I have a very set and defined list of things that I would like to have from a man, yet it seems that I am the first person to throw that list out the door when it comes time to actually go on a date. I was messaging probably 10 or so guys between OkCupid and Grindr, where I was sheepishly looking for male attention and a free meal. This was before I was off Grindr (for the billionth time) which I promised all of you I was going to stay off of because I am not trying to be a hooker anymore (ok, ok, if I am going to be honest...I am back on Grindr. Not by choice. I was forced...by loneliness, such a biatch). 

I decided to settle on a nice gentleman with glasses who worked in a cubicle in College Park. He was a year older than me and seemed to be cute and clever and witty through online messaging. I was trying not to get myself hyped up about him, since I had been on quite a few duds before, but it was hard since he seemed so great.

One of the big tellers of what a person is going to be like, for me at least, is the restaurant they choose for us to go to. A solid 90% of the time I end up telling a person that I want them to pick out their favorite restaurant because you really can tell a lot about a person by this. Unfortunately, I never listen to the warning signs and I walk into horrific dining situations all the time. This fine gentleman chose Olive Garden as his favorite restaurant, which is a warning sign in my mind. Coming from a partially Italian family who knows how to cook, Olive Garden is a place where families go when they are going through a rough patch at home...not a place to connect or make a love connection.

Obviously I ignored this warning and showed up to the date about 10min early. I always like to show up early so I can scope out the scene around where the date is happening. (I needz to know my escape routes in case this guy is an axe murderer or I'd like to jump off the highest building to end the date). I get a text about five minutes into the date that he is going to be about 30min late. Now here is the question I sat and asked myself, did he mean he was going to be 30min late from when he texted or 30min late from the start of the date? I thought about this for a solid 45min until he actually showed up for the date (You can do the math on that one sparky).

When he did show up he looked like he was the before photo from the obviously airbrushed photos he had posted on his profile. Then he opened his mouth....and out came what I can only describe as a Mickey Mouse type squeal. Now I am not sitting here saying that I am the most masculine guy in the world and I certainly have a case of gay voice, but I know that when I talk I am not shattering glass around me. It took every once of will power I had not to show some sort of discomfort when he talked, but I am pretty sure I ended up looking constipated. (you win some, you lose some, yet my constipated face was still cuter than that sound.) 

We ended up getting a table right away, since it was now close to 9pm and most families who had come here had reconnected and are at home watching ABC Family. (I wish I was with them watching Pretty Little Liars...get on my level if you don't know what that is.#thisiswhyimsingle). Mickey Mouse seemed to be unaware of his cartoonish voice and was extremely talkative from the get go. He also seemed to be very comfortable with me because he delved into some serious issues really early on.

Mickey: Do you have a big family? Are you close with them?
Me: I have 2 brothers and a bunch of cousins. I'm pretty close with all of them! What about you?
Mickey: Well, I used to be close with my parents and sister, but then I came out and they kicked me out. My sister doesn't talk to me anymore except through random text messages telling me I am going to hell. 
Me: Omg, that's awful. I'm really sorry...
Mickey: Oh its okay, I'm sure it will all blow over. I am hoping for a boyfriend to show them I am stable. Maybe you will be the first guy I bring home?!
Me: Wow, uh well this is our first date! Lets see how things go before we meet the family.
Mickey: Totally makes sense, your family sounds great. That's my other hope, that I meet someone who has a close family and adopts me. You seem to have that kind of family!


Whooaaaa, he just married my family. Like literally, this man and I have been on a date for a solid 20min and he has committed to marrying my family and bringing me over to his family to fix their relationship. Also, he kept saying I have a great family, all I told him about my family was how many brothers I have and that I am "pretty close to all of them." I am well aware of how wonderful my family is, but I haven't told this person about any of this. For all he knows we could all be into Satanism and have a cult farm in Utah. I could be the child of polygamists where I don't really know who my mom is, but I've got an inkling who it is because one of my "moms" seems to favor me by giving me easier chores. (this is what I was thinking about as he rambled about his life issues...I've got an active imagination. My mother said its endearing. Ughhh, you guys make me judge myself)


Mickey: Yeah, so I don't have a college degree because they kicked me out before my last semester and cut me off. 
Me: That's terrible. Where did you go?
Mickey: I work a dead-end job and I live in the basement of this persons house not too far from here. But I can have guests over whenever I want! 
Me: Uhhh...err....thats nice? Do you like it there?
Mickey: I like the rent, the people are fairly old so I can't go crazy with partying. But I gave drinking up because I tend to get out of hand. No need to get arrested again. 
Me: Arrested? When were you arrested?
Mickey: Oh, for being too drunk in public! They put me in the drunk tank, it's not on my record so its not a big deal. 


Holy crap ballz. This man's life is a wreck. At this point I was more concerned for his well being then getting into his pants (which is a fairly big deal for me...looking for love can get stagnant! Gotta stay sustained somehow. WHATEVER....I get it...I'm a hooker. Rude.) I literally wanted to hug him and tell him it would be alright. Mickey sure knew how to mask his vocal issues by pouring his heart and soul out onto the table for me.

As I mentioned earlier, I am normally looking for a free meal on these dates, but due to the circumstances I paid for the dinner. He felt bad so he offered for me to come back to his place (since he can have people over whenever he wants!), but I politely declined the invitation to go to the Mickey Mouse club and bid him adieu. We stayed Facebook friends for over a year with him randomly commenting on my status', until I found out last week that he had defriended me. I felt a pang of rejection...because when you are no longer attached through Facebook...you are truly no longer friends.


Fabulously Lost: Out $50 bucks, and in need of more therapy
Mickey Mouse: Not your happy-go-lucky mouse
Olive Garden: When you're there, you have mediocre food with some bangin' breadsticks
My Family: Not into Satanism or in a cult....yet. Also not polygamist...to my knowledge

Harry Potter in Shambles

Most of my close friends are aware of my odd fascination with most things Harry Potter related. What I really mean by "odd fascination" is that I tend to try and fit anything HP related into my daily conversation. I think this is a normal thing, but I have been told that I should hide that type of crazy from most people until several dates in. (Other "odd fascinations" I have include, and are not limited to, '90s teen bop music, '00s teen bop music, '10s teen bop music {Shut it...Selena speaks to me], and Sabrina the Teenage Witch. And Britney.) Whenever I thought about which HP character I would end up with I, along with most human beings, imagined I would date Harry or Ron or even Malfoy (loves me a good bad boy. he's a fixer-upper.) I never in a million years thought I would end up on a date with Hagrid.

Now, my Hagrid (it bothers me that I can say "my Hagrid" forever and for always...), wasn't as hairy as the mythical friendly half giant that lived on the grounds of Hogwarts, but he wasn't too far off. This gentleman began messaging me over OkCupid and seemed decent enough. I had gone on a string of bad dates with people that had fit my "type" (which means they were black.) and decided that I needed to branch out and date people who were outside of my "type" (which means non-black). This was mistake #1.This seemed logical enough for me and gave me new found hope that I was supposed to find someone who I wasn't conventionally attracted to and that we would find love in each other because of our differences!

Hagrid worked locally at a restaurant and was 27 years old. He was 6' 4", had some light scruff, and only had face pics on the site. (this generally means he has something to hide, but as we know...I'm a desperate daisy and tend to forgo any warnings) He didn't delve into exactly what he did at the restaurant but he did say that he loved where he worked because of the regulars. This should have been seen as a red flag, but instead I saw this as him being a friendly guy who enjoyed getting to know the patrons of the restaurant he owned. (Notice what I did there...he said he worked at a restaurant and I convinced myself he owned it. #crazypartyof1) Hagrid told me he wanted me to come to his restaurant where he worked for our first date, but I decided I wanted to be treated like the gem that I am and wanted to go to his favorite restaurant in his neighborhood in Baltimore. This was mistake #2.

When I arrived at the "restaurant" that he chose as his favorite in his neighborhood, I should have probably turned around and left but I didn't. This was mistake #3. The outside of the bar looked like it was made of wood that scavenged from an old dirty pirate ship. The neon sign was like the little sign that could, flickering every so often to let you know they were O-EN.  There was also one window on the first floor and it was blacked out. I decided that this was just "rustic charm" and tried to give this dive a chance. 

Hagrid was sitting there at the end of the bar when I walked in and his "scruff" was a full fledged beard and when he stood up, he not only towered over me, but he was twice the weight of me (and I am no tiny duckling). Instead of the normal handshake to say hello, he engulfed me in a hug...and smushed my face into his beard nest thing. Not running away at this point was mistake #4

Hagrid: You look just like I thought you would! I hope you like my choice, I'm a regular here.

(There he goes again with the "regulars"....)

Me: You look...just like....you. This is an interesting place...do they have good food/drink specials. 

Hagrid: Well I wouldn't say they have good food, but the chef knows how to heat up a good burger. 

Ummm he knows how to heat up a good burger? What the hell does that mean? This is a restaurant shouldn't they be cooking the burgers fresh? Shouldn't it be a specialty since that is standard bar food?? WHERE THE HELL AM I?!?!

Me: Well it sounds like you know a good burger...what are their drink specials

Hagrid: Beer

Me: Oh nice, uh..err...do they have anything else?

Hagird: I'd stick to the beer

Me: So I guess I don't really need to look at the menu do I? (mistake #5)

Hagrid: That's the spirit! I knew you'd like this place.  I hate sissy fem gays who can't handle a little roughness around the edge. 

So... I don't think about myself as a "sissy fem gay" but I also like the finer things in life. My family never taught me how to camp and I like new clothes and nice restaurants and being treated well and staying in hote....ok so I might be a little bit of a "sissy". (who the hell cares. Suck it judgers) On the same token, I loves me a good dive bar because they tend to have good greasy food and cheap drinks. This place just looked like it was mice infested and hadn't been cleaned since the mid-1800s. I let him do all of the ordering because I couldn't understand the garbling of the bartender when she came up to us. She looked like a cross between and amazon woman and a yeti. Impeccable english.

(This is a real painting. All I had to type in was "Yeti Woman" and soooo many pictures came up. people are weird)

 We tried to make small talk about everything and anything and slowly began to realize we had very little in common.

Hagrid: Do you like dogs?
Me: Yeah, I didn't grow up with dogs but I like the idea of small to medium sized dogs. My bffl has a boxer that I'm in love with
Hagrid: Oh...I have a great dane. He is kinda unruly, like me! 
Me: Ha..ha..thats cool. What do you like to do for fun on the weekends?
Hagrid: I work most weekends at the restaurant, so I don't have a lot of time to hang out. 
Me: Right! What kinda restaurant is it?
Hagrid: It's actually almost exactly like this place a few streets over...its owned by the same guy!
Me: *shudders* Fun....so what do you do there? (mistake #6)
Hagrid: Well I was a bartender, but I drink too much sometimes so I was demoted to bar back. He can't fire me though cause I blew him once. He's afraid I'll tell his wife. *begins a hearty bellowing of a laugh that almost knocks over our "beers"*

As you can see, we have very little in common. For starters, our dog choices are not compatible. While this seems minor in this very moment you have to remember that I am on the search for long term lovin'. This means that if he prefers bigger dogs, later in life (Not that we would EVER get there) he would want a big dog. I have no urge to have my kids learning to horseback ride on our dog. Second, he works most weekends because he is a bar back. I work during the week and usually use my weekend for "extracurricular activities." Finally, I have no issue with his job choice or that he works at a bar that looks like you get herpes from sitting in it, but that he is proud of his job security due to blowing the owner at one point in time.

The really 'effed up part of this (disturbed that we haven't reached the effed up part yet? ME TOO)  is that after we awkwardly finished out food (and by finished I mean I pushed around the charred circle that resembled what used to be a burger) Hagrid asked me if I was okay walking him back to his place....and...I...said...yes. HOLD YOUR HORSES. I had no intention of going back to his place for hanky panky, but I was intrigued by the adventure of seeing where a half-giant lives. (I hear you judging me. I feel it with your eyes. That's just rude. Can't a guy just walk a giant home?) This is mistake #7.


Anywhoz, what I saw there is something that both shocked me and left my jaw dropped for days. Hagrid opened the door to his Baltimore row home and let me into what looked like the island of misfit...well...misfit everything. As soon as I walked in there was artwork on the wall that was large and in charge and had pizza smeared on it. I could tell it was pizza because there was a slice stuck to it in the top right hand corner.

Hagrid: We had a party that was a little wild 
Me: Oh wow, is it like an after work thing on the weekends?
Hagrid: Uhh...no it was like a Monday? I don't know, whatever the first Monday of the month was.


Nowwwww, we were closing in on the beginning of December, so this Pizza Artwork had been left on the wall for almost a month. But WAIT...it gets better! We moved past this Picasso and moved onto the living room where clothing made up what should be where a carpet was. Men's, women's, and children's clothing was strewn about. (Did you squint at that for a second? Did I just say children's clothing? Yup, yup I did) I also saw random children's toys laying all over the place and began to question what I had gotten myself into and just as I turned towards the door I was almost completely knocked over by a massive furry bear of an animal.

Hagrid: DOWN NICKELBACK! GET DOWN! 


You'd think I'd be startled by this stampeding elephant dog but, in reality, my mind immediately went to the fact that his dog was named after Nickelback, the widely hated American rock band. Not only did I find this a dumb name for an animal, but I also was appalled because I don't like this band and I have never found their songs (which all sound the same) all that exciting or great.

Me: Did you say your whale dog's name was Nickelback?
Hagrid: Yeah, they are the greatest band of all time. I have a tattoo dedicated to them on my body, you'll see it later if you're a good boy. *winks*
Me: I think I'll pass, I generally don't need rewards for being a good person. Why the hell are their children's toys and clothing everywhere?
Hagrid: Um, they're my roommates sons clothing. You remember the bartender from the bar we ate at? I live with her and her 3 year old son. Don't worry, when we have parties he stays at his grandma's down the road. 


Yup, he calmed my nerves. Hagrid let me know that the child is  not around for their pizza slinging, wolly mammoth stomping, incoherent garbling, beer guzzling parties. I am now completely comfortable with the situation I have gotten myself into, THANKS for that Hagrid. It was at this point, and only now, did I feel that I was ready to leave. As I walked towards the door I could hear him following me to let me out. I turned around to the most surprising event of the evening. This was the final mistake, mistake #8.


Hagrid lifted me off the ground, put me against the wall and planted a kiss on a majority of my face with his giant man bearded lips. I felt like my head was being taken over in an alien death kiss as my feet wiggled in the air. After what seemed like eons, he put me back on the ground.

Hagrid: I have wanted to do that all night. You have nice lips
Me: Uh, well I think I should go.
Hagird: If you ever wanna go out again, let me know. I can get you free drinks at the bar...if my boss isn't there. 


I, as I know it must surprise you, did not take him up on this kind offer. I cut down the beanstalk, sans any golden eggs, and never saw the giant again.

Internet Dating; Infinity
Fabulously Lost: Curbing Harry Potter Fantasies
Mistakes: Blatantly obvious to everyone but me
Voldemort: He won this battle.

Gay Mecca

You may be asking yourself where I have been over the last couple of weeks and why I haven't been as active. I wish I could say it was because I was on safari in Africa or because I was promoted to some amazing position and I had no time for silly things like this. In reality its because I moved home, had an existential crisis, went to San Francisco, and began working a horrific shift at work. Now this may sound depressing, but in actuality it...it...well, yes, it is kinda depressing but I am a fairly upbeat person, so I am looking at the silver lining, I am still single and ready to mingle! (this also sounds depressing...) So I can write about my love life for a little longer!

So I mentioned that I had the pleasure of going to San Francisco for a work trip a couple weeks ago, which also happened to be my first time in this Gay Mecca. To be honest I went into this expecting to see Rainbows on every street corner and for it to sound weird for people to go to "straight bars." I was surprised when I didn't find this upon entry of the city, but I did fall in love twice while on this 4 day trip. (I move quickly on the west coast apparently).

My co-worker and I flew out of Baltimore on the Thursday, which turned out to be one of the worst flights ever. We boarded Southwest, which is known for their friendly flight attendants and....and...welp, that's about all they are known for and that's all we got. We both checked in rather late for the flight, ensuring that we would be forced to awkwardly sit in the middle seat for our 6 hour flight to LA. As I got on the plane I prayed for a lone isle or window seat (I actually looked to the sky and asked little baby Jesus for this), but was unfortunate enough to sit next to two tragically awkward, but nice people.

As you all might have gathered in the past, I tend to have a fairly addictive personality and when I find something or someone I love, I generally cannot get enough of it. Several days prior to the trip I began reading The Hunger Games and decided this would be the best thing for me to focus on during my plane ride. (I was so torn...Team Peeta or Team Gale. I decided, since its a fantasy world, I will take both of them! Such a harlot). These two humans sitting on either side of me decided to overrule this plan and take turns talking my ear off. It was like Taxi Cab Confessionals except I couldn't jump out of the moving plane to stop listening. The gentleman in the isle seat was severely socially awkward and told me so (I felt like this was an awkward first date...that I couldn't escape)


Isle Geek: So...are planes your thing?
Me: Umm, I'm not really sure what you mean by that...but I do like flying.
Isle Geek: Oh cool...me too. I'm heading to San Jose for a computer science conference. 
Me: Cool, I am going to San Fran for a work conference. Is this for your job?
Isle Geek: Nope...I am just going to take notes on the public speaking so one day I can talk at these things. I suck at talking to people. 
Me: Well you aren't doing so bad talking to me.
Isle Geek: Cool. *silence for what seemed like an hour but was probably 30 seconds* Well I will think of more things to talk about, I think we have about 5hrs left. 


.....At this point my mind went into panic mode. Surely this man didn't want to talk for 5hours straight. I usually get sick of my closest friends after 2hrs. (if you are a close friend of mine...I didn't mean that. I have a gun pointed to my head?....you're pretty?...I take it back! ughhh) I kept looking down at The Hunger Games and it was teasing me with its strong black cover (we have discussed my affinity for all things black, mainly men) and its enticingly beautiful pages. This man was encroaching on my date with Peeta. (Rude!) I told him that I was going to try and catch some Zzz's and I immediately closed my eyes. Much to my dismay, I realized my evil plan was foiled because I wouldn't be able to read with my eyes closed. I sat there for a solid 20min listening to him talk over me to Window Woman. I slowly tried to insert my headset into my ears without the two them noticing, while my eyes were closed. Either they are as dense as I hoped they were, or they realized I wanted no part in their banter over their favorite Anime characters, because they left me alone for a good portion of the flight.

The connecting flight from LAX to San Francisco is where I fell in love for the first time. The plane was less crowded and I had an awesome window seat near the front. I was one of the first people on the plane and I almost immediately whipped out my book and began reading. As people boarded I noticed, out of the corner of my eye, that a gentleman sat to my right in the isle seat. Luckily, we ended up not having anyone sit between us and could spread out a little more. Within moments this gentleman decided he wanted to talk to me....I was not pleased...until I realized he wanted to talk about The Hunger Games. When I looked up my eyes were met with a very handsome man!

Mystery Man and I completely hit it off and he made the flight go by rather fast. I stuttered several times because I apparently become a teenager when presented with fine specimens on a plane. We started talking about music and what we were into, who we listened to, what our current obsessions were. Then Mystery Man revealed that he was an artist himself coming back form recording in Nashville. (I blushed when he told me this. As if he had just complimented me. But he hadn't...all he did was tell me his job.) I was sitting next to the famous Youtube singer, Jeremy Passion. This dashing gentleman has an awesome sound and he ended up giving me his two CD's. (As a half-jew, he had me locked in when he offered me free things. I am a sucker for a deal. A deal and famous youtube personality, if we weren't on a plane I would of offered to drop trou) Unfortunately for me, in this one instance, the attractive man to my right happened to be straight. We had to part ways...but not before exchanging numbers and following each other on twitter. (It's not true love unless you follow each other on twitter. Facts of modern day love) 

The second time I fell in love in this Gay Mecca came the day after I had heart palpitations for Jeremy Passion. I was alone in this great city walking around and exploring. After I had decided I had seen enough, I made my way to the massive Westerfield mall across from my hotel for some retail therapy. I walked in and out of a few of my regular stores and then fell upon Lucky Brand. The men in the store were cute and as I circled, I realized I couldn't afford most of the things in the store. Not wanting to seem like just some joe-shmo from the East Coast, I ended up buying two $25 pairs of underwear. (It's at this point that I received the affirmation that it is extremely expensive to be gay.) I have no idea why I did this or why I felt the need to prove myself to these pretty gay men in the store, but I did and now I have some wonderfully comfortable underwear that cost me two days worth of food. Don't worry it gets worse.

For some reason, as I was walking out of the mall I was drawn to Kenneth Cole. It was like a magnetic pull, even though I knew nothing good would come from this little adventure. (and ohhhh was I right) As soon as I walked in I was greeted by most attractive sales person I had seen in a really long time, we shall call him KC Hottie (because I am 12 and spell hottie with an i-e, and if I were writing it on paper it would have a little heart for the dot). KC Hottie and I began making eye love (which is deeper than eye sex or eye fucking) and he followed me into a couple of the different areas of the store. He had this boyish smile and I was roped into every word he said. He was whispering sweet nothings like:

KC Hottie: Sooo have you been to Kenneth Cole before?

and

KC Hottie: Are you looking for anything particular? 

As you can see, it was love at first sight. We were meant to be together and all I had to do was pretend to be interested in buying something, for him to continue paying attention to me. (I have done wayyyy worse to keep a mans attention....shut up...this is a judgement free zone) He started asking me more personal questions like:

KC Hottie: So are you from out of town? *flashes a sheepish grin*
Me: *trying to be coy and cute* HAHAHA How did you know?? Is it that obvious?!?!
KC Hottie: Welll...*points at sweatshirt*...your sweatshirt does say MD
Me: *turning bright red* Oh. Yes yes I am from MD, this is my first time to San Fran. Is it your first time too?
KC Hottie: Haha *Grins again* No, I work here, but I am originally from Southern California. I like it better up here though
Me: I like it better up here now too. Uhhh...I mean...I've been to LA before...and I liked this better?

As you can see, we were destined to have small babies together and live a domestic lifestyle. (Or as Rick Santorum likes to call it, "the deathstyle". Bringing down heterosexual families, one gay family bbq at a time) We were close to the register when I picked up a random pair of jeans and decided I was going to buy them in order to redeem myself for the awkward nature of my initial conversation. I should have looked at the price tag, tried them on, and decided like a normal person if this was the most financially sound decision, considering I had just spent a portion of my retirement fund on underwear 30min earlier.

KC Hottie: Do you want to try those on? They are a great pair
Me: Haha nah, I know my size! I have gone shopping here before...
KC Hottie: Oh, I thought this was...nevermind *flashes huge grin and looks me dead in the eye* I am sure they will look great on you
Me: HAHAHA shoooj me too  
 (Yes I did actually make a sound that could be spelled "shooj", because when I really like someone I revert to animalistic sounds to communicate with them) 
KC Hottie: Would you like too...
Me: Yes I would
KC Hottie: Uh...I didn't finish the question, hahaha. Did you want to donate $10 to Haiti?
Me: Oh...yeah. I saw that when I came in. Of course I do...I love Haiti.

I want you to sit with that for a minute. I just cut him off during his sales pitch and then finished with "I love Haiti," as if this is a normal thing to say to people. (I wonder if he writes a blog about his love life and my nickname is Haiti Lover. ahhh I can only hope *swoon*)

KC Hottie: That's awesome *smiles with a glimmer in his eye* I love when someone seems passionate about things. Your total is $105.78
 Me: Well I hope these pants are magical.... *grudgingly hands over credit card and pays*
KC Hottie: What? Oh..er...yeah they are?  Have an awesome trip, and come back and visit me! 

Why yes, yes I did spend over a $100 on a pair of pants. No, no I don't have that kind of money to spend on jeans. I feel like this is almost how a person feels after they pay for sex. There is a little bit of buyers remorse, but at the same time the product makes you feel like a million dollars. KC Hottie will always be one of my fondest memories of San Fran, and when I go back...we will for sure get gay married.

Fabulously Lost: Broke, homeless, but stylish
San Francisco: Poppin' with hotties left and right
Prostitution: A constant theme in my blog, and possibly similar to buying expensive jeans
Southwest: Always the worst airplane to take to the west coast