Last One on the Blog Train

Yup, you guessed it, I finally took that hour away from Game Cube and the opening of my new store to plop myself down, hold out my arm....AND GO THROUGH THE MOST EXCRUTIATING 60 MINUTES OF MY ENTIRE LIFE!!!

Tattoo #1 occurred 9 years ago, promptly the day after being initiated into the fraternity I so naively joined my freshman semester of college. Located above my right ankle it is a very nicely drawn sun over my fraternity's "secret moto" written in a Greek Acronym. Lesson learned, at 18, when you want to get a tattoo, draw it up, post it on your mirror and look at it everyday. If it's still what you want when you get out of college, knock yourself out. As for mine - I'm taking suggestions on how to cover up the Greek lettering.

Tattoo #2 occurred 5 years ago, the summer after graduating from college. It was an extremely promtu thing, this time choosing the Chineese kanji symbol for "the sun" (also meaning male or 'yang'). Its about an inch down the center of my back from the base of my neck. I truly love that one. Simple, easily hidden in appropriate situations, and a great conversation piece.

Tattoo #3 - yesterday (Saturday) 3:30pm. After reading what I wrote about my last one, especially its location, you may be surprised at where I settled for the newest creation. Exactly where I have planned on getting one for about a year now. On the inside of my left wrist (now do you know why I stressed the pain?) The artist (Steve at Fatty's Tattoos in DC) drew up EXACTLY what I had in my head, but lacked the artistic ability to get to paper. It's two linked symbols; one being the planetary symbol for the sun (yes - there's a theme and a method to my tattoo madness) which looks like a capital letter O with a dot in the middle. The second being the astrological sign for Leo. Simple, yet complex and kind of mysterious looking, even to me who knows exactly what it means.

As for the inner argument about how this tattoo will be perceived at work, I guess I've sentenced myself to a career wearing long sleeves. Ironically, won't that make me look more professional?

Pictures to be posted soon.

There are more jewish lesbian rabbis than there are gay men that can be identified as 'circuit boys' or 'muscle mutts' (body buitiful guys that go to these weekend long parties full of sex, drugs, dancing and attempts at gaining more self-esteem.) Again, why do we stress ourselves to fit in with smaller groups of people? Is there a sense of elitism or as gay men are we self-esteem masochists?

The television season. September to May, right? WRONG. September to November, then January, then 2 episodes in March, 4 weeks off and then a 5 episode sprint to the season finale during May sweeps. Wait, what about December? The month in which we celebrate the birth of Jesus, we also mourn the passing of televsion shows about to be overshadowed by mid-season pickups.

Some, deservedly so, never show their face again, except to be released as a "Complete Series of" DVD in time for next holiday season. Others are axed unfairly before their completed 13 episodes can air and before a certain murder can be solved.

I was one of roughly 3 million people that watched the show 'Reuinion' on FOX religeously during the September-November mini-season. Basic premise was in 2006 a close-knit circle of 6 friends attend their 20 year high school reunion. One is murdered, one walks away as the murderer, and we instantly flash back to 1986 and witness important events of each year, one per episode.

First, let's talk about one thing. When a network decides to pick up a show like this, episodic with a definate end; shouldn't they commit to producing and airing all episodes? Yeah, 3 million viewers is barely reason to keep a show on UPN, much less FOX, but to cut it before even worse performers such as That 70s Show or Malcom in the Middle?

Second, although soapy and campy by nature, the overall idea of a television show that isn't destined for continuing after its one season stint is over is just as cutting-edge as reality tv, shows that go by in real time for 24 weeks, comedies about dramatic housewives (or dramas about funny housewives), and pushing a button every 108 minutes due to a fear of the smoke monster (sorry, speaking in LOST language.)

Why are TV execs so afraid? The only reason why typical sitcoms and cop dramas continue to do well in the ratings is because at the end of the day (or season) that's the only damn thing on. For every Reunion, there are 4 knock offs of The OC (four of which are on The WB.)

People will watch greatness if that's what they are exposed to, people will watch absolute dog shit if it's on every channel.

We all have groups of people we hang out with from time to time or even more often than that. We know of each other's occupations, we tend to enjoy doing the same things in our spare time, and we may be known to others outside of the group as a tight-knit group of people, but do we use the word "friend" too loosely?

I read a quote the other day that said that what Americans consider to be a friend is what Europeans consider to be acquaintances. That made me think about all of those I call friends, are they truly just accquaintances? For the most part I don't invest the trust in people to help me through tough times. I've always felt like I can deal with my own problems and that my partner will get me through the tough times. However, this past weekend, my partner was the cause of some seriously tough times.

And so my eyes were opened to how the group of guys that I, in the past, just associated myself with, proved themselves as real friends. I will say that it was because of my trepidations that I held these guys at an arms length for as long as I did. I wasn't sure if a "seventh" member of their group is what they needed or wanted, if my young age was seen as an issue or if they just weren't sure how to take me sometimes.

When things got really rough this weekend, these guys each gave me something that I needed at the exact time that I needed it. Comic relief, opening up his home, a two hour bitch session, a hug, tough-love advice, distracting conversation and truthful answers to my questions were all handed out by these guys in different ways and at different times. For once in my life I feel full and I feel important and I feel safe and cared for (outside of my family).

Maybe one day any one of or all six of those guys will stumble across this blog and read this entry. Or maybe someone else will stumble across it when they are trying to also figure out who their friends are. My advice is to let the walls down and just trust in whomever it is and see what happens. You may just end up with more than you started with.

(Thanks kitties.)

We've all heard it out there or even said it ourselves. Music Television should be renamed Real World Television, in honor of the endless hours of repeats of the quickly deteriorating reality television grandfather, and the subsequent hours of repeats of the painfully immature MTV shows The Real World has inspired.

Between Room Raiders, The Real World (since the Las Vegas season), the memories-of-junior-high inducing TRL and even the award show turned Festival Concert MTV Video Music Awards, I have since realized that once you're too old to apply for The Real World, then you're just too old to watch MTV.

Does that stop me from catching the bi-annual battle between all of the "stars" of The Real World and its since-cancelled sister Road Rules? Hell no. Admittedlly so. It's fun seeing how much better or worse some of my favorite people have started to look than what they did back in my college years.

But MTV has held a soft spot in my heart for at least one fleeting hour of decent television programming per week. I'm telling you now, catch True Life. While MTV "reality" shows celebrate and ironically laugh at jacuzzi three-somes, daily drunken hookups and knife-wealding roomates, True Life celebrates, well, true life, while taking a hard look at how real young adults deal with household brand name products. Steroids, Plastic Surgery, Fat Camp, OCD, Becoming a Pro-Wrestler have all been some of the most interesting hours I've spent in front of the TV. A couple of episodes tend to hit harder for me personally than other (looking forward to the Steroid episode tonight - as I battle with my own coming-to-terms with my up and down "juice" use, and subsequent up and down body image) but they all have some very important lessons to communicate. All of them about how diverse youth in America truly are, even when some may think they're all MTV clones. In an ironic turn, the same network that causes some serious strife for some about how to look, act, drink, puke and screw, is the same network that's turning the picture tube into a mirror.

Statistically, compared to the general population, celebrities don't exist. So why in the world do we visually and audibly torture ourselves with images of a life that, technically, doesn't really exist? I guess it all means that Paris Hilton REALLY isn't relevant after all. That's hot.

So last night the Vice President went to the hospital for shortness of breath. It seems like ever since he took office back in 2001 he's been riddled with ailments that have made the general public question more about his ability to live to the end of his term than his ability to help run this country.

So on my way to work my brain started working (after 3 cups of joe to get me moving). It's also amazing what listening to right-winged AM radio will do, especially to this left-winged gay man that would rather listen to satellite radio or his iPod. Anyway, back to my working brain. I wondered who would succeed the Vice President if he were to pass on. I mean, the Vice President becomes President - and then third in line is Speaker of the House (right?).

See, I even question my own ability to recall this tidbit of information. Then I'm torn. Torn between "Who the hell cares?" and "How goddamn embarrassing that I don't know this." God forbid if Jay Leno or David Letterman ever find me on the streets to ask questions about our history and government. I ain't gonna be nobody's laugh riot; nuh uh no way....

Throughout the day I've realized how little I do know about our government, or at least about the specific people that run our country. Outside of the President, VP and Secretary of State Rice, I couldn't tell you very much more than that. Is it because I'm not a patriotic or responsible citizen, or is it because I came to a realization a long time ago that politics, at least to me, is a game that I'd rather not play. I mean, outside of the individual state governments limiting my own right to marry my same sex partner, my upper-middle class life doesn't sway to far good or bad depending on who has control of the wheel.

I'm all about the Democratic party getting a stronger foothold in this country over the Republicans, but then if they stay in the majority power for too long, how bad could it become on the other side? I mean, after the elections of 2004 it seemed like the Republicans had that foothold in our society, between red fly-over states and severe backlash over gay marriage, but it didn't take long for the Republican backlash to start. Between our serious mistake in not getting out of Iraq well over a year ago (resulting in over 2000 needless American soldier casulties) and the HUGE trip-up that our Republican government made in dealing with the Katrina aftermath, it seems like we always end up back in the middle. The best of both worlds with societal checks and balances that pull us back before we go too far.

Wow - talk about a sociological, political essay I've just typed out. Call me an optimist or a dreamer or even a hippie, but there's a reason why most of the US doesn't seem to care much about our government. It's because, at least since the late 80s (as far as my continuous memory goes back) most of us have been settled comfortably in the middle, with our own control over the success of our own lives, leaving those no-name political big-wigs to play their balancing Tug-o-War.

So I'm checking out Margaret Cho's website and her attached blog (Margaret Cho's Blog)(now that I've started one, those belonging to others seem a little more interesting than before. I guess I'm looking for inspiration.) and I see that she recently got an absolutely HUGE and beautiful tattoo all across the lower half of her back.

So I'm thinking to myself - why am I being such a puss boy about getting the tattoo I've been planning for a fucking year now? I know what I want, I know where I want it - so why do I keep making excuses?

Not like I don't have the money - and if I'd take an hour away from obsessing over my new store, or away from GameCube (told you I can be a dork) it would be over and done with. It might be that weird in-between feeling I've been feeling lately. It's not like I'm 22 and fresh out of college anymore. It's not like I have those same "fuck the system, my know-how is more valuable than where I place piercings or tattoos" aspirations. Does that mean I've admitted defeat from the system? HELL NO - but it does mean I know how to play the game a little better than before.

Case in point - as to why my hesitation to the tattoo. My company has a strict "no showing tattoos" policy, and the location of my planned body defacing is on the inside of my left wrist. What does that mean? Long sleeves and/or big thick non-corporate watches for the rest of my life. At least if I'm going to continue to climb the ladder like I have.

It's all about finding balance and not burning bridges like I used to. Wow, now just think if I had taken time away from this blog entry and just went to go get that damn tattoo....

To keep with my last post of never letting a trend go by, I have to comment on the onslaught of those colored rubber bracelets that you can buy from almost anyone to stand for anything. I guess it all started with Lance Armstrong and the yellow ones, but I'll be damned if I don't walk down the streets of DC these days without seeing a new color standing for a new philanthropy on everyone from delivery guys to Hill interns.

Honestly, has it gotten out of control? This past Christmas I decorated an entire two-foot tree with nothing but my collection of the new-millenium's answer to the 80s bangel bracelet. There were the usual suspects, a Livestrong bracelet here, a white one for The One Campaign there. Then they got weird. A rainbow one for "Support Gay Marriage" (I'm gay, but who in the world reaps the monetary benefits from that one? If we sell enough of them does that mean my partner and I can have our elopement in P-Town paid for?), the red Cherryfund ones that granted us access to the local cirucuit party events last April, a purple one with various San Francisco icons on it, and my personal favorite, the green one for "Save the Pandas" (I guess for the recent birth of the panda cub here at the National Zoo.)

The irony, I haven't paid for a single one of these bracelets, but not because that's what I set out to do. It all started with "borrowing" a Livestrong one from my partner's daughter, and then the others just started showing up. Two in my backpack at an afterhours, left behind by a regular customer on my counters at work, attached to going-away presents, and then, as a gag birthday gift, my great friend Rob Harris presented me with a $2.99 package of generic ones that not only smelled like fake fishing tackle, but had such "touchy feely" sayings such as Peace, Romance, and my personal favorite; Truth. Too bad none of them are large enough to fit around my thick wrists from years of lifting; they would probably barely fit as cock-rings. However I think wearing the Romance ones as phallic support would probably kill the mood if someone were to be servicing in that area and just happend to start reading.

The point to all of this? That as I'm typing this entry I believe that 2006 is going to be the year of the rubber bracelet backlash. In 2005 they were so cheesy they were cool, but this year they'll just be cheesy. Will that stop me from wearing a few choice ones from my collection? Depends. But I'll be on the lookout for the next trend to rear its ugly head. Isn't it time for designer shoelaces to make a comeback?

So, here I am on the verge of 28, well past my days of "surfing" the web, except for the random hook-up, online bill paying and entertainment news (new Janet Jackson album anyone?) and I become intrigued by a blog by a good friend who has since moved from DC to sunny LA. English-Matt (as opposed to me, American-Matt) has posted some of the funniest stuff I've read, and so I'm hooked.

Will anyone read this? Not sure. And if they do, will they get it? Even less sure. But I figure if Madonna and The Carver (Nip/Tuck) can do it, I might as well put my cyber-finger print out there for better or worse.

For those of you interested in what inspired this mess, head to
Misadventures in the (310).

Ok - now a good 10 minutes have passed with me hitting a few keystrokes, and promptly backspacing over each one of them in complete bewilderment of where to go next. My absolute horror of having to reset my iPod for the first time today (and consequently losing all of my Buffy Podcasts - yeah, I can be a dork)? My frustration with and equal enjoyment in the relationship I'm in? The trepedation I have of opening my first store (eventhough I'm backed and protected by the Java-Giant of all Java-Giants, Starbucks.) Or maybe the cry for as much weightlifting, nutrition, training and supplement information I can get my hands on.

Maybe I'll hit on all of these, maybe just some, but for those looking for a quick insight on me and what I look like (roughly) head to
My Bigmuscle.com profile (under 21? STEER CLEAR!) and I'll be back in some amount of time to hit on something mentioned above.