Update: the Beautiful Gays

It's a long time since I have posted. Things seemed to have changed a lot, and yet while time has been passing, it hasn't seemed as if almost any change happened at all.

I'm wading through pictures of the beautiful gays.

Why? Well, now that I live essentially on both coasts, I have realized just how small, or should I say unified the East and West Coasts are for some gays. It's a truly bicoastal culture. Everyone knows each other. Of course, like any relatively small group of status conscious folk--there are social celebrities. The beautiful and often uberly successful gorgeous ones that capture and captivate the cocks and minds of the gay masses.

I lust, observe, admire, and perhaps even yearn after them myself. I am among the masses.

Yet, I flirt and play, from a distance w/ them. In a way, I feel, only feel, as if, only as if, I might know them.

It started w/ my best friend from high school, if I try and trace it back as far as possible. I wroteabout him here. I was traveling and got snowed out in college while away. With all the major airports closed, I ended up on his college dorm room's couch for the better part of a week. He had come out two years prior. I was still deep in the closet. In fact, I was in therapy to not be gay.

He had just landed his first boyfriend. My best friend was cute. Not sexy. Not handsome. Just cute. Brilliant of course. Incredibly so. Senior yr in high school we had over half of our classes together. All those ridiculously nerdy classes in an already ridiculously over-achieving school.

The first night I got there. He introduced me to his new boyfriend. His boyfriend and I both had this unusual reaction. Both of our jaws dropped and we both couldn't look away hard enough to hide our reactions from each other. I never would have thought my friend to land such an incredibly gorgeous guy. Fast forward 5-7 yrs and we both end up sitting next to each other taking the LSAT. Small world huh? We exchange numbers. Facebook. U know the drill.

On facebook, I find out he's quite the little celebrity. My friends in law school "know of him." Those who went to college w/ him. He in fact allegedly dated one of their gorgeous celebrity alumnus who is now a big Hollywood actor. LOL. Go figure. Yes, he's gorgeous. From head to toe, and I'm sure BEYOND. Yes, he's brilliant, well spoken, and effortless-ly so. Did we ever hang out. Not really. I think I might have perceived a half invite and enthusiasm from him. His FB profile is littered w/ pics of him and perhaps the prettiest porn star in the industry.

Now, I'm in law school, and of course, I signed up for the coolest gym in town. If you might recall, I wrote about God and Munchkin. Right about when I started going to my gym, God's modelling career was taking off. Since then I've seen him on many magazine covers and in shoots with some pretty well known celebrities done by some very well respected photographers. No biggie. He's God. You don't question his greatness, and one dare not draw comparisons. He is God. You respect the status and recognize it for what it is. Unreal.

His boyfriend, Munchkin, is a different story. Teeny, gorgeous, and endowed with perhaps the LARGEST napoleanic complex I have yet seen. What's crazy is that Munchkin has been extremely intimidated by me. To the point of just sheer insanity. The expressions he has launched at me have been the most penetrating and pregnant with incredible insecurity. While he may not be God, Munchkin is by all means beyond my league. At least according to me. Since seeing God in a magazine and learning his name, I have come to know who Munchkin is. He's top of his field, in the creative world of course. And before dating God, he was wedded to another deity, a minor one, but nonetheless another impossibly gorgeous man.

So this past break, while I was chilling at home and working out one bright and early Saturday morning, I notice a small guy with a severely overgrown napoleanic complex. His eyeshdadow caught my attention. He looked at me, as if looking at a potential "subject" for his kingdom. His posture was ... honestly, like that of nobility. I hate to say it but even I some times carry myself that way. You know, arched back, and a slight upward tilt to the chin and nose--I do it b/c every so often I like to look at myself in a mirror or in a reflection. Its vain beyond belief I know. It emphasizes my cheekbones and lips.

I recognized it in this other one. He looked so familiar but I couldn't figure out why. Then it dawned on me. He's Munchkin's ex. This world is TOOOO fucken small.

Fast-forward a couple of days, and I see he had a short conversation with this tall, blonde, with exceptionally large blue bright eyes. He looks familiar too. Oh. He's this gorgeous tall hunky model with a funny manhunt profile that is usually set so that you cannot see any of his pics. He's unlocked for me a couple of times and I always thought he was a fake. But I recognized his torso and confirmed indeed, he's a somewhat well known model (who happens to be gay). Known on both coasts. Friends with Munchkin's ex, and then I learn friends with Munchkin. Later I learn that Munchkin is friends with my best friend from high school's ex.

I could spin this entry a few more times to include a few more impossibly gorgeous guys. So what's my deal? Why do I stay away?

I don't know. I'm scared perhaps. I scare them at times. I know as much, and nothing is as scary as scaring someone you find scary. Oh yea. I ran into the porn dude who's like the most perfect pretty boy out there. He got scared of me. WTF? I'm not even exaggerating or kidding. I know the look now. The slight bulge in the eyes when they see you. The quick fluttering of the lips. The rapid moving the of the head and eyes--first to avoid looking at you, and second to pretend as if they just always move their head like that so it couldn't have been about you. By the time you count to seven however, they've already sneaked a second look, that usually bears an obvious expression of non-chalance attempting to cover fear.

I'm so aware of status. I grew up in a world built on status. I run and dictate my life according to status. But I refuse to be honest about it to myself. I refuse to believe that some people are just cooler than others. Perhaps its because throughout my adolescence, I was NEVER "cool". I was the opposite. I was a contrarian. I was the kid who tried to pretend like that didn't exist. Today, I still am a kid who's trying to pretend like it doesn't exist. So I refuse to try and hang out with the cool kids. Although coolness really does not exist, except as an immaterial concept in the heads of people, I give it material power in my life, all the while attesting that it is indeed NOT real.

I keep people away. As I commute between the two coasts, I have become hyper sensitive to where I am perceived as most attractive and unapproachable. I've grown to love it. I've grown to relish walking into my gyms--scaring most of the men in there, getting them to clandestinely check me out, all the while, pretending like I'm either oblivious or indifferent to the whole charade. But in reality I love hoarding and glutting myself on attention that I can absolutely reject. Given how seldom I have sex, I think this is my perverted form of an orgasm. If only I could wear a shirt that said as much in 5 words or less.

In separate news, I was obliged to go to a firm dinner last night, where I sat across Poet Guy ("PG" hereafter). Given how painfully awkward we, and especially he has, have been around each other, I was blown away when, while our host escaped to the bathroom, he cordially asked me how I was. We talked, and talked. Awkwardly yet consistently. Before I knew it, I was back in the middle of experiencing just how much I fucken crave for the dude. So beautiful. So brilliant. So shy. Rarely have I stalled in asking a guy out (a second time) because I like him so much that rejection would actually hurt.

I Get So...

Lonely at night. Doesn't everybody?

I hate it. Now that I'm all grown up, all my friends have shit to do! Aaack. One even has a kid!

Things have slowed down socially this year. The First Year hype of having to find friends and getting to know everyone has now blown over. I don't have party invitations every single night. My gay parents now both work very demanding jobs, and I've distanced myself from the troubles of other more complicated duos.

I've been in sort of a funk, finding myself to be so strange and different from others that I never expect to find a "connection" any more.

Despite my own criticisms of my self-image, I still get the same reaction from people.... what's more despite the passing years. I've noticed that somewhere between 17 and the mid-20's, people have a major down swing where they go from looking super together, to having a hint of age if not a full blown disaster.

But despite my apparent success at staving off father time, even the reactions of others to me now seem to bore me. It struck me today as I walked in and several guys just started staring at me. In about 8 steps and 10 seconds, I quickly avoided eye contact with all of them with a dismissive look. I only realized as soon as I had finished doing it, settled onto a bench, and began to eye the dumbbels, when another guy "stared" at me. Immediately I went from feeling like I was alone, to avoiding him with my behavior. The rapid shifts in my demeanor and behavior, going from feeling comfortable and alone, to feeling examined and intruded upon, was enough to snap me out of it. And then I thought, "How often am I like this? How often do I dismiss people?

And there, as quickly as I had thought it, I had my answer--all of the time I'm around someone I do not know.

It's my doing, of course. I just have to learn to handle not only when a person stares at me, but when a group of them do it. It's really annoying. I feel its rude. But that's stupid of me. I mean what are they supposed to do? Ignore me. Even then I would have something to complain about! ;)

Welcome Back My Face

So this post has to be the funniest for myself to write. I tried this new facial product about 8 months ago. Without realizing it, it was screwing up my face. It made me look older... at least 5 years older if not more. It was awful. I use so many products that I find it hard to keep track of which product has certain effects on me. This experience has taught me quite a lesson.

I used all of the product and I could not get a new supply. I had gotten a little depressed and resigned about my face at that point. What could I do??? I'm getting older right? My face has to change right?

Well, 3 days later, I am in the gym stretching, and I look in the mirror and I am SHOCKED. My face went back to NORMAL.

OH MY GOODNESS. I was in utter disbelief. My face was back to NORMAL.

Let the fun begin once again. Let the stares come back to me. Let all of this foolery CONTINUE.

I am horrible. But alas.... Fun is fun.

Bringing Sexy Back: the last days of frumpiness

An overly ambitious hair-cut and a harsh skin regimen had left me feeling like a total frump these past few days. I've been totally aware of how my fragile self-esteem pathetically depends on external approval. I'd go to the gym, not get any attention, and come back all fucken down. I totally had to give myself pep talks on the way back this past week. All came to the fore when last night, the guy I wanted to hook up with on manhunt just wrote--u're not my type. Aaaah--I just wanted to fucken die. Stupid I know, but hey, se la vi, et, a si soy yo.

Last night, I neglected one of my facial treatments, got sleepy, and just half-assed it. Turns out I was over treating. Woke this morning and was pleasantly surprised by my normal face. When I overtreat my face, its the equivalent of aging like 5 years. It was REALLY scary.

I've been my running my ass off, quite literally. I started running forklifts, or intervals up hills.
I had stopped b/c of all this talk about how it burns too much muscle. Whatever. I just need to drop fat like its no one's business. I can't move my legs very well since I haven't done them in a while. I felt like throwing up the first two days I did so. But, thanks to plenty of sleep my appetite has not spiked, and I've managed to increase the intensity of my weight workouts. Last but not least--my hair grows like a weed, and as disgusting as it sounds, since hair grows fastest when dirtiest, I haven't washed it as often.

As ick as I might feel, sitting and working on my apps, I just tell my self that the day will come when the payoffs will materialize. I think today was the day.

I was chatting with this ripped older dude at my gym, and he made it a point to say that I was getting leaner. I said---Oh wow, I'm so glad u said that, I've been feeling so fat since my exam. He paid me some more physical compliments. I paraphrased them right back to him. He has the cutest personality. We talked for a while about the holidays and such. We're both totally insecure queens about our bodies. However, he's not really gay-acting, so I'm assuming the queen part.

I saw DC man, into whom I've lately not been running. I got all cheery for him and he reciprocated. He's cautious around me, at least that's my read. I find it hilarious since he's like freakin 75lbs heavier than me and a good 3-4 inches taller. I get the impression that he could be incredibly sensitive. I noticed that when I looked away carelessly during the conversation, he literally just stopped talking. When I finished his sentence for him, he lit right up and continued. I get so shocked by petty instances such as that one because I just assume that hot people are supposed to all be poised and confident. I shifted the conversation to the classes he has been teaching. I struck a bright smile and said, "I see you mostly teaching classes now adays, and they are ALWAYS SO FULL!"

"Yea!" he said with a big smile in return. I asked him for his teaching schedule. I said, "I'm going to have to come to one."

He smiled big, and said, "You should!"

Then, I lightly punched him, said that I would definitely do so, and that it was good to see him again. Fucken YUM.

I headed to get a drink of water when I run into Octavio--Steroid boi's pro-trainer. He was talking to this older man. Last time I said hi to him, he wanted to shake my hand, so this time I put out my hand. He pretended not to break away from his conversation, took my hand, and before I could start to shake, he pulled on it hard. I was totally freaked as I was forced to lunge forward and to stand directly in front of him--face to face. He made and maintained eye contact as he pulled my hand up to his lips and kissed it! I was stunned. Geez, that dude doesn't act gay at ALL. So much for my gaydar. I must've left it back at school or something.

He saw how freaked I was, and just gently let go of me as his eyes lingered on me. Then he slowly went back to his conversation.

I got my sip of water, got ready to go, and then went over back to DC man. I told him I would try and make his ridiculously early morning class tomorrow. He lit up again, smiled, and said, "That'd be great!" I tapped his rear deltoid with my hand as I turned around and left.

*Sigh* It's nothing real, but still, it's nice to feel back in the groove.

Superbad, Supershy

So often I get confused when I notice someone is shy. Is it me or is them? Do I make them shy or are they just always shy? Both probably.

Today I was at the gym, and I saw this super hot guy I lust after big time each of the few times I have gotten to see him. He has these super broad shoulders and the leanest arms ever. His face is generically cute. Nothing special though nice.

He's caught me staring at him before overtly and so I noticed one day that he just smiled as he looked away from me. The look on his face pretty much said that he knew.

Still, he seemed to get uneasy whenever I was around. So I thought, I guess he's just not into me. Today was the same, except that he was working his back and of course his arms in the process--really hard, and so he got me really hard.

Fuck, fuck, fuck..... I hate leaving the gym having not spoken to that one guy I wanted to chat up. I was about to leave, when I noticed he was doing curls in a corner of the gym and no one was around. Perfect.

I headed over. He ignored me. I looked at him and just stood there. He was expressionless-completely expression as he took off his head phones.

"Your arms are soooo lean, and you seem to not to do high reps....", I started.

He beamed a huge smile and cocked his head back in laughter. "Oh wow, lean.... yes, and no I don't do high reps." He wasn't cocky at all. He was humble. He said this all clearly because he was flattered.

"Have you always been like this or do you do something in particular?" I asked.

"That's a good question..." He looked away to think. He rubbed his chin. I looked at those incredibly lean arms that somehow peaked like crazy as soon as he flexed his arms.

"Honestly, I think it's all diet for me...", he had a huge smile on his face. His eyes were bright. He was gorgeous. His teeth were obviously whitened, but were nothing sort of beautiful. His eyes were hazel and green and contrasted his dark brown hair. Fuck, this guy was one hella of a kept secret.

I was still listening to my cynical voice unfortunately, but I opened my eyes really wide to compensate. I cocked my eye brow while I opened them even wider everytime he made a point.

"I basically do five to six meals a day of only protein," he said and my eye brow jumped. He looked away. Was he being shy?

"Most people eat to supplement their workouts instead of the other way around. Plus, when you eat right, the positive effects just start to come from the inside out. Things like hair and skin start to be different... I don't really crave sweets, so I guess I'm kind of odd," he went on.

He then interrupted himself and stuck out his hand to me, "I'm Tom" he said and smiled as he looked down for my hand.

"Tino," I said, "Nice to meet you."

We talked some more until finally I pulled away. He was smiling the whole time. Go figure.

He said he played alot of sports. I'll have to ask him exactly what he does, and arrange a pick up game.

He's totally straight acting. Geez... I'd be quite blown away if he played on my team;)

I quickly got my stuff and left.

Although I looked like shit today, after I washed my face, I surprised to see that my skin looked really good. I guess after all that stuff that I do to it, giving a break let's it regenerate. I walked out and it was already dark. That's when I noticed a very tall figure headed my way.

Could it be? No way. I looked and the light skin gave it away. It was nordic man--alone on a dark street. Finally!

As he came within range, he looked away hard turning his nose up at me. Ha... could that have been a shy reaction? Did he want to see if it was me and still pretend to not be looking?

Just in case, I pulled of my head phones with a sweeping gesture and gave him a huge smile, and from afar I shouted with as suggestive a tone as I could muster, "HEY!"

"Hi," he said in an neutral comparatively muted tone.

I still didn't care, because I think this man is built like god.

"HOW WAS YOUR THANKSgiving???", I said effusively.

"It was good thanks," he said curtly and holding his head back, as if trying to keep his distance from me. He was swinging now from side to side with his stride... like a little boy.

The time came for us to stop in front of each other if we were going to chat. I slowed down and looked at him, as he continued taking long strides swinging side to side. He just kept going. I just kept smiling at him.

"Cooooo-uel...." I said still smiling.

I started to pick up my pace again, because well, he wasn't stopping. He immediately whipped around in one step and shouted to me, "Enjoy your weekend!" Then he immediately whipped around again, and continued with his long strides.

"Thanks! You too!" I said as I replaced my head phones.

Wow, how totally out of character. If there is one hall mark of Nordic man, it's his composure. Almost to a fault. Flawless and constant perfect posture. He does tons of martial arts. His smile and the way he elongates his neck whenever he's in conversation. It's all so proper. He also always stops to talk with people. He's super polite about that on the regular. His odd big steps... were just plain odd. He's one of those calm walkers. You know. Like nothing could ever rush them.

Was he insecure? That I wouldn't stop if he did? Did he not want me to think that he would stop for me? What was up with that whole weekend thing? It is Saturday evening afterall, it's pretty much over. Still, it was a nice thought;)

He has a good act--I suspect. You know, a ready-made persona to bust out whenever the occasion arises. I'm sure he's rarely if ever caught off guard. I wonder though if could find me so attractive as to make him nervous. I guess everybody is little to him. But I'm not by far among the larger guys at the gym. He seems to be such a super hot guy except he's more of all the cliches guys like. You want muscle? You want symmetry? You want exotic-like features? You want a nice ass on a tall guy? He's all of that to an extreme. Wouldn't I have to be like fucken the most stellar package to even be eligible? I wonder if everyone thinks like that when they think of him. Really, no one else at the gym is quite like him. He's the hottie of the gym.