My Big Fat Gay Crush
Why is it I always have crushes on gay men? I am a recent cable addict and I am in love with Daniel V. on Project Runway. I almost cried when he told the group he was gay. Like I didn't already know. I mean, what is it about effeminate unavailable men? Is it that they're sensitive, hot and fashion conscious and never in my life will I have a chance with them so that makes them more attractive? It seems I have a problem with unavailable men, emotionally or otherwise. It makes me want them more. I'm not a shrink, but I think that is what is called "unhealthy".
Take Andrew for example. We had that awkward sit down yesterday where he told me he has feelings for me (duh) but he sorta has a girlfriend. What the f@#k is "sorta"? I'll tell you what it is. It's I-like-you-but-I'm-scared-to-leave-my-comfortable-situation. There's two different kinds of guys in this city: Those that can't settle down because they want to get laid and those that do settle down because they want to get laid. I don't care what he says; He kissed me in the cab the other night. I told him, "Don't worry! I understand." But now I want him more. Again, unavailable=more attractive. Or maybe I'm just having a hard time admitting that I actually for the first time like someone.
The last two guys I "dated", if you want to call them that, were the 18 year old and the Belizian. The 18 year old was fun for company and narrative value, and the fact that he worshipped me was nice too. The Belizian was just reinacting a fantasy of mine to have a secret Latin lover. Mission accomplished on both ends but I don't miss them now that they're gone. But Andrew, damn. Now we're just "friends". Friends with sexual tension but no benefits. It's okay, the thought of having a relationship makes me want to vomit anyway.
Speaking of vomiting, I reviewed this new art piece down in SOHO where this ex-bulemic recreated vomit-like substances in jars and displayed them. It was "Instillation Art As Healing Process". Jean called it "a load of cowpie". I actually thought it was pretty interesting and the only reason I brought Jean along is because I know about her strict "Won't hold your hair back while you vomit" policy and I love watching her discomfort. One day she'll understand the most secret code of womanhood where ties are strengthened upon the ritual holding of the hair. It's a beautiful thing.
Well bloggie, off to start my day. Sophie and Bonnie are shopping for "baby things" and I said I'd meet up with them later. Jean says she might join us after she drops these dogs off she's been watching. I guess one of them peed on her couch thrice and she has to clean the cushions. I don't get how dog pee is game but your own friend's stomach lining is not.
See you, Bloggie
Take Andrew for example. We had that awkward sit down yesterday where he told me he has feelings for me (duh) but he sorta has a girlfriend. What the f@#k is "sorta"? I'll tell you what it is. It's I-like-you-but-I'm-scared-to-leave-my-comfortable-situation. There's two different kinds of guys in this city: Those that can't settle down because they want to get laid and those that do settle down because they want to get laid. I don't care what he says; He kissed me in the cab the other night. I told him, "Don't worry! I understand." But now I want him more. Again, unavailable=more attractive. Or maybe I'm just having a hard time admitting that I actually for the first time like someone.
The last two guys I "dated", if you want to call them that, were the 18 year old and the Belizian. The 18 year old was fun for company and narrative value, and the fact that he worshipped me was nice too. The Belizian was just reinacting a fantasy of mine to have a secret Latin lover. Mission accomplished on both ends but I don't miss them now that they're gone. But Andrew, damn. Now we're just "friends". Friends with sexual tension but no benefits. It's okay, the thought of having a relationship makes me want to vomit anyway.
Speaking of vomiting, I reviewed this new art piece down in SOHO where this ex-bulemic recreated vomit-like substances in jars and displayed them. It was "Instillation Art As Healing Process". Jean called it "a load of cowpie". I actually thought it was pretty interesting and the only reason I brought Jean along is because I know about her strict "Won't hold your hair back while you vomit" policy and I love watching her discomfort. One day she'll understand the most secret code of womanhood where ties are strengthened upon the ritual holding of the hair. It's a beautiful thing.
Well bloggie, off to start my day. Sophie and Bonnie are shopping for "baby things" and I said I'd meet up with them later. Jean says she might join us after she drops these dogs off she's been watching. I guess one of them peed on her couch thrice and she has to clean the cushions. I don't get how dog pee is game but your own friend's stomach lining is not.
See you, Bloggie
posted by Tempy at 12:18 PM
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