The Gay Couple

The gay relationship is a mysterious beast. Unlike the straight relationship, gay relatioships can't annouce themselves to the world, show their affection in public, or end in marriage. Well, maybe we can in West Hollywood [not the marriage thing] and most parts of Canada. But if you live anywhere else you're probably going to get clubbed to death like a poor baby seal.

With both of us still in the closet, and the background to our bad romance being a somewhat conservative city, it's difficult for me and Tall Blonde Alcoholic to do coupley things. Whenever we're out together I have this strange sense of unease. To calm my paranoia, we walk with our backs to each other so we have a 360 degree view of approaching lynch mobs. It's more romantic than it sounds.

When we go to the movies, we watch things like 2012 in its tenth week of release or Nine in its first week of release to make sure nobody is in the theater. When we go to dinner together we're not exactly snuggling it up in the booth and spoon feeding each other. And when we're in a big group, I tend to overcompensate by staying as far away from him as possible. Usually this is easy, though sometimes he mistakes this to mean I am mad at him. But this can prove difficult when he gets drunk and takes off his shirt and charges at me.

It's kind of hard carrying on like this. I feel like I have an obligation to pretend he's not important to me because I don't want to accidentally out him. I guess he feels the same way about me. But playing things cool all the time can really wear a couple down. At some point this brilliant deception is going to become a reality. Are we fooling the world or just fooling ourselves?


Our two month anniversary is in EIGHT days and I'm so excited!

Well, That Was Fun

It's always hard to know beforehand which posts are going to get a lot of attention and which ones aren't. Sometimes I poor my icy heart out into a post and the only person that comments is mother disguised as a fat middle-aged man disguised as a cute teenage boy.

I didn't expect people to get so excited about my little study on Jason Carwin. It's kind of thrilling. Apparently, the only thing I've learned from all of this is that if I want my blog to be any sort of success, I should just attack teenagers until they are all floating, lifeless in the blogging sea.

I try not to care about what people say in the comments. When people tell me I'm a good writer, I smile to myself and blush a little. But I don't really think of myself that way and I haven't exactly gotten any Pulitzers in the mail so that's that. When people disagree with me, I tend to think they've got their little minds backwards. But everyone has their opinion and I can tolerate that as much as I can tolerate heterosexuals. So that's that.

But when people are mean, I get kind of taken aback. Well, clearly I've done myself in because I'm the one that dedicated an entire post to writing off a poor innocent boy. But at least I had the decency to channel my aggression onto my own blog. For example, don't comment on my post calling me a seething, jealous bitch and then ask me how things are going with my boyfriend. Things are going fine, by the way.

I didn't think Jason was going to read the post. Some fucker probably tipped him off. Probably that bitch, Anon #5. But he left a nice comment which I respect as much as I can respect heterosexuals. So I suppose in this exchange he is the bigger man and the better person. Who knows, maybe even smarter fag (well, depending on who you ask).

I don't really regret what I've said but I regret where I'm coming from. I don't want anybody to be happy until I've found happiness for myself. I want to go to Yale and I want to Julie Powell-esque blog success and I want to attend the Golden Globes with Neil Patrick Harris. When I encounter people that have these things, I try to rationalize why I deserve it more. I need to get over that.

All things considered, I certainly don't think Jason should take my post to heart. As much as I have the right to be a bitch, he has the right to be happy about his acceptance. If I'd gotten in somewhere great, I probably would've jumped for joy and told Stavros Niarchos to suck my dick. And though I am hard-pressed to say so, in Jason's own way, he deserves it. Meanwhile, I still grasp desperately to the hope that one day I will achieve my own sort of success and acceptance. Because I think I deserve it too.

--edit--

It really bothers me that somebody with absolutely no readers and no comments has called my blog under-read. How would he even know? My sitemeter is password protected...

This person thinks he's Mother Willow because he's too mature to care about money and where he goes to school and "any of that shit." Please. That is just so naive. Hand me that $2 trashcan from Ikea so I can vomit in it.

Your parents paid for your private school (seriously doubt they were snipping school vouchers from the local newspaper) and probably paid for your college and will probably continue giving you whatever you want for the rest of your life no matter what you do / how unsuccessful your blog is.

And though this person finds me "absolutely disgusting," I have a feeling he will continue reading my blog and will probably have some sort of response in the form of a short witty comment. But I really hope he doesn't. This is the last thing I want to say about all of this.

But if he decides to write a follow up on his own blog about how horrible and tragic I am, I couldn't care less. Because if a tree falls and nobody is there to hear it, then your blog is a piece of shit.

Carwin's Theory

I don't usually read new blogs because people are idiots and reading their stupid thoughts and stupid prose makes me all sweaty and upset.

I recently started reading a blog by an 18-something: Carwin's Closet.

I was intrigued by the post "Hope-o-Meter Plummets," which discusses the unfairness of college admissions and his general mistrust of the process. Nevermind the title, this post made me feel good on the inside for once in my life because I was fucked by college admissions and will jump on any wagon that points out its flaws. I've had to watch people miles and miles dumber than me get into my dream schools while I fester in my current situation. It's turned me into one of those bitter, bitchy fags and not one of those happy, fun fags.

But his next post is, "YALE CLASS OF 2014."

Which, I feel like, sends a mixed message. There is something bothersome about a guy who only complains about a system until he gets what he wants out of it. I'm still festering here. What happened to THE CAUSE?

I tried to make myself feel better and I assumed he was from Montana or Winnipeg or some other dumb locale where getting into a good college isn't that difficult. I've always hated the fact that living in DC meant I had to compete with the kids of stupid politicians and the bitches at NIH and NIST. Also, it was a mistake to go to a magnet school because everyone there was like, obsessed with being smart and it was annoying. But it turns out he's from SoCal, where there are a serious number of Asians.

I suppose his real advantage was going to a private school and being a self-proclaimed privileged kid. I feel better and worse at the same time. Maybe this proves that I am smarter than him but it also means that regardless, he's going to get more out of life than I will. I don't blame him. I'm just jealous. Side note: I thought it was somewhat comical that he contended he had "seen the real world" by living in Switzerland for four months and India for two. The Swiss aren't exactly rife with poverty and I have my doubts he was slumming it in the Bombay ghetto.

The sad fact is that it's not really survival of the fittest in this world. He got a leg up because of his money, and working hard matters less for him than it does for the rest of us [me]. A lot of us [me] worked just as hard, if not harder than he did but we [I] got nothing out of it because nobody really cares about the son of two poor immigrants. [Read: his best doesn't have to be as good as my best.] Well it's sad for me. I'm sure he is still clicking his heels with joy right now. But the real point here is that the system is broken, even if one privileged kid from SoCal gets some good news.

Insult to injury, I'm not on is blog roll and he doesn't even know who I am / how great I am. I feel like Miranda Priestly in The Devil Wears Prada, "So you don't read Runway... and before today you've never heard of me..."

I'm frustrated that somebody I feel better than is getting the things I couldn't. His blog isn't particularly insightful or well written. But then again, I'm the one who quotes The Devil Wears Prada and listens to Bad Romance on repeat for two months. I mean, I'm pretty sure that still makes me better than him. But he does get more comments and has more followers than I do...

I don't actually think I'm better than him - smarter maybe, but not better. In the end, it's just disheartening to have all these problems, and have no money, AND be gay, AND be ugly, AND be fat. And this is probably the real reason why it's hard for me to read other people's blogs and listen to their problems. Because compared to me, these kids have it easy.

It Is My Birthday.

I am one year older.

Too old, if you ask me.