Who knew getting a bartending gig around Asbury would be so difficult?

I've recently had to reinvent myself. The company and career that I devoted almost 60 hours a week burning myself out on cut my position (and me) due to the poor economy and cutbacks in the industry. After spending a little while assessing my life and what I truly wanted to do with my life, I finally figured out what I needed to do to be satisfied.
I knew that I wanted to follow my dream of becoming a teacher. To supplement my income until I finished schooling for my teaching certification, I knew that bartending would be a great thing to do. I felt like bartending would be a profession that I'd enjoy, and during the summers when school was out of session, I could bartend.
I entered bartending school and studied the hundreds of cocktails and how to make them correctly. I mixed drinks and memorized the formulas night and day for a few weeks. I studied the different types of alcohols, where they were from, how to mix them correctly, and the right amount of alcohol to use.
And after the weeks of studying, mixing and throwing myself into the world of mixology, the final testings and exams were finally here. And I think I did cartwheels when I passed the testing with flying colors and acheived my certification. Hot damn, I was a certified mixologist. I was gung-ho to jump into the bartending arena. Nothing could stop me now.
Or so I thought.
I've sent out dozens of resumes, filled out a slew of applications at dozens and dozens of bars, restaurants and establishments all along the Jersey Shore (and most everywhere in Asbury Park) and in New York City and Philadelphia. No one is hiring me. And to top it off, even the places that are actively seeking a bartender are passing me by. They want experience in the bars, and even though I kicked ass in bartending school, that may not be enough for these businesses.
Well, how do these businesses expect me to get experience behind the bars unless they give me the opportunity to do so? If anyone has a suggestion, I'd love to hear it.
Now I've never been a proponent of affirmative action. After all, I broke down the doors in the publishing industry by busting my ass to be the best editor I could be, and I never wanted any help in climbing the ladder at any newspaper or magazine I worked at; working long hours and giving 150 percent to all my projects was what I had to do to move up the ladder in my companies. My work always spoke for itself, and I didn't want to be given a chance just because I was a minority.
Right now, after going through the hell I've gone through in the past few months, my thinking has been slightly altered with regards to affirmative action. Everyone is looking for a job, and I will take whatever help I can get to snag a new job. Working is my life, and want to take my life back!
Now I am sure that all these establishments have done their best to make sure they have hired their fair share of minorities. And I don't want to jump up on my soapbox and rock the boat. But in Asbury Park alone, I think I've been able to count the number of black bartenders on one hand. On the outer parts of Asbury and along the Shore, there may be a few more.
Now maybe only a handful of black bartenders have applied for these jobs, but when I go into some of these places, it hits me like a ton of bricks. To make sure I wasn't making a mountain out of a molehill, I would revisit some of these places to make sure I wasn't missing anything or that there were minorities working on other shifts. But not too much luck in that; it's possible I just missed them.
I even asked a couple of the places how many minorities they have bartending. One said they had to get back to me; another one told me that's not information they can give out. Really?!?
I'm not trying to offend any of these establishments with my feelings on this issue, because this is just my opinion (I repeat - MY OPINION). But as my frustration grows, I'm at a loss because the level of race breakdown is appearing to be disproportionate in the numbers.
Again, all this is my opinion and this is just my venting on a subject that I think needs to be discussed - if not openly, then in people's minds. I feel that this issue is not really discussed in open forums any longer because people may think it's a moot point.
Maybe it is a moot point and I'm just talking nonsense, thinking too much and wearing my heart and conscience on my sleeve. It wouldn't be the first time. But what if I'm not and this is an issue that needs to be revisited? Who would it hurt?
Better yet ... who would it help?

Don't worry ... your man's probably not hot enough to handle these guys

I was out Saturday night dancing at a club in Asbury, and while out, my friends and I made a very odd observation.
There was a small party at the club, and it was a bunch of straight couples. Every now and again the club has parties there with straight couples and they are a blast to party with, but this time, it was a bit disturbing.
I'm sure the ladies knew that they were partying in a gay establishment, and it's not only because the place was flanked with guys hanging out in groups and dancing freely with each other on the dance floor. I mean, really, the club advertises that it's gay.
But how did we know they were incredibly astute to their surroundings? Because the women were holding onto their men for dear life. These women were leading their men along with them holding their hands as tight as a mother holds her young child so they don't lose their grip and run off. They had their arms intertwined with their guys, almost suffocating them in a death grip. We even noticed a woman literally attached to their man's back, as if they were Siamese twins. Usually that's a sexy look and oh-so-cute, but not this time.
Now I know that some of us gay men do hit on any guy with a pulse. But to be honest, these women were not particularly attractive, and their men were no prettier.
So why did these women act this way in a gay establishment? Fear.
Fear that their men would be vulnerable to being flirted with and hit on by a gay man. Fear that their relationships weren't strong enough to survive a knowing glance from another fella.
It was so funny that it was tragic ... and insulting. Women, I think for the most part, you all are amazing people who should be admired. I do feel that way about the women I know, whether straight or gay. But if I don't know you, it would be my opinion that you really don't need to worry that I'm going to steal your man. I don't go after straight dudes ... they are too much trouble.
When I overheard one of these women say to her man "Just don't even engage or act like you are flirting with these guys because they don't know their boundaries", well I went from thinking this travesty was tragic, to thinking that it is becoming downright insulting.
Most straight women who come into these gay clubs are either just hanging with their girls for a night of crazy dancing with a bunch of guys who they don't have to worry about impressing, or they are involved in a bachelorette party. I love when these women are around, because they know how to act when they are around the gay community in the club.
But when these desperate housewives (and I'm not saying all housewives who come in there are desperate or insulting) hang out in the club, don't insult the gay community by making snarky comments about us gay men being desperate enough to try to steal their husbands. Your man is probably not hot enough ... and as in this past weekend's occurrence, that statement is so on the money.
So women, please chill out and just relax! Enjoy the music, dancing and alcohol, and stop worrying that your man is going to be a gay man's next conquest. And straight guys, stop letting your wives, girlfriends and significant female companions treat you like you're property and drag you around the club like you are attached at the hip ... it makes you look whipped!
I love you all, now go out and party!

Poor me, poor me ... pour me another drink!

I noticed something when I was out last night with a couple of friends. Actually it's not the first time that I noticed it, but this is the first time that I am acknowledging it.
They say sometimes you need to look within yourself for answers, so that's what I'm doing.
I'm always complaining, albiet to myself, that I can't find a man who wants to embark on a relationship. But everywhere I turn I am seeing men who have found their partners. They've been able to find the Prince Charmings. The couples come in all shapes, sizes, appearances and colors.
I think the reason I am still single is because of a reason I don't like to admit to myself. It's not all the other guys, it's because I'm just not that appealing to the guys. There are guys who want sex from me, I'm not saying that guys don't see me and want sex. But truth be told, I think every guy wants to have sex; most times the other guy only needs to be breathing to be an object of sexual attraction.
I'm realizing that other than sex, guys don't want to enter a relationship with me. They hardly want anything at all from me. I'm not complaining; it's just not in the cards for me.
Some people are going to be alone for the rest of their lives. I'm probably going to be one of those people.
The guys who I've had sexual relations with, well, they go right on entering a relationship with someone else. It's like I'm the speedbump to the next full-blown romance with another guy.
When I was young, I never thought of myself as handsome. When I entered high school, I got a boatload of good friends and enjoyed some popularity, but I wasn't the guy who was sort after by women. (P.S. - little known fact: I used to date women)
I got a girlfriend in my senior year, but she was a bit loopy and a lot crazy. Long story; if you want the long version it's in my novel.
But I digress. In college women started to seek me out for romance. After college I was engaged twice. The first woman was too good for me; the second one went nuts. Before I decided to be myself and come out of the closet, I dated two other women.
It was pretty easy for me to get into a relationship with women. But dating men is a whole different arena. I'm just not good at it. I would never go back to dating women because they don't appeal to me whatsoever. I only want to be with a man. But that is out of my reach for whatever reason.
But as I was saying, I noticed something last night. My friend was pushing me to talk to this guy, and after a few minutes I decided to talk to the guy. We joked a bit, talked a lot, and then I went to grab a drink. By the time I turned back around, the guy was being hit on by another guy, and it was as if he no longer knew who I was. We'd had a good talk, and a lot of flirting.
It's not the first time this has happened to me, but damn, this is going to be the last. I'm not putting myself out there like that again. Perhaps I'm just not that attractive. In any event, I'm just going to mind my own business. I'm attractive to men not of my race, and it's so damn hard to figure out which men are attracted to black guys.
So I'm going to take a few months off to do some things I need to do to get myself in order. I'm completing bartending classes so by the holidays I'll have a job as a bartender. I'm going after my teaching certification so I'll be able to teach teenagers how to avoid butchering the English language.
I'm focused now, so I know what I need to do to attain happiness. I've had two boyfriends, and perhaps that's all I'm supposed to have in my lifetime. After all, one loved drugs and cheating on me more than he loved me; the other loved my money and being taken care of more than he loved me.
But I would hate it if I could never find true romance and those two failed relationships were all I had to show for the amount of passion I have within me.
That can't be all there is. It just can't.
I'm not feeling sorry for myself, 'cause no one could ever love me more than I love myself.
But a little human tenderness and the caress of a man's touch sure would do me right! Jus sayin'!

It's time for me to re-invent myself and go after what I truly want

I haven't mentioned it in my blog too much - if never at all, but I was laid off in June. I've been living off of my savings, investments and some unemployment, and I was a little fearful that I would never figure out what my next move should be to fulfill my happiness.
I've always knew pretty much what my true calling is in life, but I've been too afraid to give up the job that paid me healthfully and venture out into the unknown. After all, a safety net is something that I always needed and my job as a newspaper editor was perfect for me. I loved to work long hours and get paid doing what I liked to do.
But even in every newspaper job I had, I always worked in a program with young children and junior/high school students. I loved to do that, especially since I could be a journalist and get paid for it, all the while doing what I loved to do - teach children - on the side.
Teaching has always been my true calling, for as far back as I can remember. But I knew teachers never got paid the proper salary they deserved. I don't know why I've always been worried about money. My parents have put me in a situation where I can always look to them for financial stability if I wanted to do that. My father worked hard and set up his family so we always had everything we needed or wanted, financially or otherwise.
Even so, I never really wanted to go to my father for it. He and my sister always said it was just foolish pride on my part. And they are right. So I never wanted to depend on anyone else for what I needed; it was always up to me. I shouldn't have looked at it that way because that is why I went into the field that would net me the most financial security.
I should have followed the path to teaching when the fork in the road presented itself years ago. I didn't follow my true calling; I went the other route.
There is an added incentive to go into the teaching field - too many young teens are being bullied and have been taking their own lives as a result. This is going on way too much these days and I want to do my part in erasing that from our society. As a gay man, I want to let young gay teens know that things may be trying right now, but it gets better. I need to lead by example, and what better way to do that is to show them that it got better for their teacher, and it will get better for them as well.
I know that everyone doesn't have an easy time in life; I'm not denying that fact. But just as the "It Gets Better" project reiterates to the country, things will improve.
But just as in school, bullies are everywhere ... even in Asbury Park. I don't pay them any mind. But some people do, and a bully will feed off of it. Don't give them the time of day and eventually they will get tired of it.
Of course, I should have taken my own advice recently. A few days ago I was in one of the gay establishments in Asbury and there was a drunk, obnoxious jerk who was trying to throw his weight around. He began to harass someone who I know and after a while of sitting there, listening to this bully continue to speak his stupidity, I just couldn't take it any longer. I decided to shut him down and told him to stop talking the trash and treat people with the respect they deserve.
We shouted at each other a little, and then I realized that in my anger to stop this bully's tirade, I was bullying the bully. I had to take a few moments to contain myself, count to 10, and diffuse the situation.
He took off for a bit and I apologized to those around me for acting out, which isn't like me at all. About a half-hour later he came back in, came up to me, shook my hand and apologized for being such an ass.
I learned two things as a result of that encounter. The first thing was that if you stand up to a person who is on a bullying rampage, you may teach that person a thing or two about respecting one's self. The second thing I learned about myself was that I have fully forgiven my ex-boyfriend for things that happened in our relationship.
See, the person who the bully was harassing was my ex. I didn't know why I was protecting him; he was no longer in my life as a lover. But the protective nature in me just emerged and I couldn't hold it back. Funny things happen when you least expect it.
And with that, I know that I am ready to educate our youth and show them right from wrong. It's now time to re-invent myself. But not too much ... I still need to hold onto the fabulous, fierce creature that I've always been! ;)

This week is definitely filled with highs and lows I'll have to deal with

This week is one of the best and worst for me.
I'm not sure how it worked out that way, but this first week of October is turning out that way.
Sunday was a pretty good day. I went to an Employee Drag Show at the local gay bar, Georgie's. It was very entertaining, as I got to see a few people who I know very well in a whole different light. So many of them did a great job, including my friend's performance as Della Gates. A lot of people were commenting that he needs to try out for RuPaul's Drag Race, as his stage presence was so stellar. He, and a few others, definitely have a career to fall back on.
Monday I decided to stay in. Well it wasn't exactly my choice; my apartment endured some damage from this past summer's hurricane and my building's super had to come and work on it. Did he show up? No he didn't. To top that off, one of my friends got on my nerves about something so stupid that I'm just glad he wasn't in front of me because I would have yelled at him and said something I probably would have regretted in hindsight.
Tuesday was a day I'd been waiting a while to get here. That was the day I was going to head to New York City and see my first Broadway show, "Priscilla, Queen of the Desert", with one of my best friends. My first Broadway show ever! Boy, I was excited. And it didn't disappoint, because I had an awesome time. I actually couldn't believe how much fun I had. So much fun that I just might find myself addicted to Broadway shows.
So as Tuesday was the high point of my week, Thursday will be the opposite. I'm not really looking forward to dealing with Thursday. But then again, I haven't been looking forward to this particular Thursday for the last 364 days.
Thursday is the one-year anniversary of my mother's passing. I've missed her like you wouldn't believe, and although I knew she was in poor health when she died, I just wasn't prepared for her dying. When she died, my mother took a big part of me with her. This past year I'd been searching for a loving man, hell any man, to help fill a huge void in my life. Most of these guys were not even worth my time and energy.
So six months ago I made the decision to hold off from any casual sex until I found the guy who was worth me and my whole self. No one would get the goods until they prove they deserve them. Some people may think that's a bit drastic but these past months I've been feeling like I've been settling way too much. I felt like my mother was trying to deliver a message to me and let me know that even though she wasn't around anymore to give my potential partner the seal of approval, she'd already given me all the tools I need to give the seal of approval myself.
I'm not sure how I will deal with Thursday. I do know one thing - for those who know me or know others who know me, just a word of caution ... I won't be putting up with anyone's drama, attitudes or hassles. If anyone puts me through any of it, I'll be cutting them out of my life with the quickness. Just as my mom believed - I'm at an age that I really don't have to put up with anyone's chaos and don't need to curb my opinions so as to save anyone's feelings.
Perhaps it's about time I put that motto into effect. The ones who love me and are close friends and confidantes will remain true; the others will fall away.

The eyes of autumn are upon us and I'm breaking out of my limits

My friend mentioned to me that now that October 1st is finally here, "the eyes of autumn" are upon us.
I really didn't understand what he meant, but when he explained it to me, I thought it was hilarious. He told me that the eyes of autumn is a gay term that he and his friends used back in his hometown. It was an inside joke between he and his gang of gay male friends, but it certainly applies here.
He said that it is the time when autumn weather finally hits and gay men get into their snuggle mode. The summer has officially ended and the men are scouring the city of Asbury Park (and beyond) in search of, not necessarily a one-night stand, but they will be looking for a significant other to share their blanket.
I'd never heard of this, and I'm sure other gay men around this area haven't either. But starting today, gay men are in extreme mode to lasso another man who can - and will - do a lot more than just keep them warm. I think that's a grand concept. He warned me that this month will be the time that I just might find a man who will be perfect for me.
I have no idea what the eyes of autumn - October - will have in store for me. But I'm going to keep my eyes open, just in case a handsome gentleman looks my way. I'm usually pretty oblivious to potential suitors looking my way, but I'm going to break out of that mode and try to push the envelope more than I've been doing.
I'm also going to do something that I haven't done in the past. I'm going to expand my search net. Most people who know me well are aware that I don't date within my race and haven't really looked at other black men as an option. It's not that they aren't attractive to me; I just haven't looked at another black man as a potential suitor. Maybe that has been a little shortsighted on my part.
Don't get it twisted - my main type of man is Caucasian. But in the past I've found that it's very difficult to know if a white man is attracted to a black guy. I'd agree with the statistics that approximately 78 percent of the population of gay white men aren't attracted to black men to enter into a monogamous relationship with, only for a casual romp so they can try something different. For the most part, the statistics are not on my side.
So I'm considering looking within my own race for a man. But when it comes to any man, my standards are still high. Maybe a little too high. But as I've said before, my parents raised me to maintain a high level of standards and it's difficult to break that. I did that once, and to this day I regret a lot about that relationship. I won't do that again.
So my eyes will be open, but I'll still be looking at potential suitors with one eye open as well. And for those who don't know what that means, that "one eye open" is referring to my third eye. Everyone has a third eye; some just decide to keep that eye shut.
So if you catch me eyeing you over the top of my martini glass (one of my bartender friends jokes with me about the fact that I subconsciously tend to do that sometimes), don't be taken aback. It just means that the eyes of autumn are upon you and you've been found attractive by me.
But be forewarned ... I don't just share my blanket to snuggle with just anyone. Because even though I'm just like every other horny gay man, I'm still a lady!

Can't eat, can't sleep, can't drink, can't go out ... what the hell is going on?

This past week has been weird for me. I'm not sure why, but for some reason I haven't had the desire to see people. I'm usually always up for some fun, but that has been the furthest thing from my mind.
What the hell is going on?
I really haven't had too much of an appetite, and for me that's not normal because I can usually eat everything in sight.
I really haven't been sleeping too well. I haven't been able to sleep through the night, and it seems as though I've been tossing and turning way too much.
Most people who know me are well aware that I can drink a hell of a lot of alcohol and still be standing. Martinis are my drink of choice, and I think I've had pretty much every martini under the sun. But for some reason, I haven't had the urge to drink at all.
And I think the last time I went out on the town was last Friday. It was my good friend's birthday party at the local gay bar, and I had a really good time. But since, the only time I really went out was Sunday; I had dinner at Hotel Tides. I usually continue the festivities at Paradise, where I have a fun time with my friends at karaoke. But I just couldn't be around anyone, and that's not like me.
But nothing has appealed to me. And I'm not sure why.
I know that my mother has been on my mind a lot lately, more than usual. I've always missed her since her death almost a year ago. She meant the world to me, and I really miss her. The anniversary of her death is coming up in October and I'm not sure how to handle that. I feel like there is something I'm missing, like there's a message she has been trying to tell me this past year and I don't have all the pieces to the puzzle.
I also feel like no one actually understands what I'm going through when it comes to my mom. I'm well aware that I'm not the first person to lose a parent, someone who means the world to me. But who really wants to hear me go on and on about it? I usually keep these things to myself, for the most part. Plus if I talk about this stuff to others, I may just burst into tears. And anyone who knows me knows that I don't like to cry in public.
I do need to figure out why I'm going through all this inner strife right now. I'm not a big fan of therapy, so that prospect is out for me. I just have to figure all this out on my own.
Perhaps I really am just burned out from all the shenanigans surrounding the gay community in Asbury Park. There are some good things about it, but right now I'm struggling to figure out what those are. Anyone who knows any off the top of their heads, please let me know what these good things might be. It's appreciated.

A friend called me a prude, and I have to admit, he was right on the money

This blog post actually picks up where my last post, "Prince Charming lost his invitation to the ball", left off. I ended my last entry halfway through because I was getting a bit upset at myself, as I had to analyze some of my past indiscretions and missteps.
I think I was getting upset because I realized that although Prince Charming wasn't in attendance at the Mayor's Ball, I probably wouldn't have noticed him if he were there. Perhaps he was there, I wouldn't have known it because I am, somewhat, closed off.
Funny, a good friend of mine called me a prude. I thought it was funny and he was wrong, but after looking at my life and interactions over the past few years, I have to admit that he was correct in his assessment. A prude? Maybe.
Another one of my good friends, someone who I've grown very close to over the past couple of years, said that he thought I was so innocent. An innocent? Maybe.
Both of them were right. I've done my share of crazy things in my life. But for the most part, I've been a bit of a Mary Richards (after all, Mary Tyler Moore is one of my favorite actresses). And maybe all of these gay men can read that innocence in me and feel that they cannot handle it. That can be a lot of pressure for a gay man to deal with, especially since a majority of us can't be bothered with any more than a short-term whirlwind sexual experience. So no, I don't blame them.
Don't get it twisted ... I do have a crazy side that some people do see. But I tend to show people the sophisticated side at times. Guess that leads to what another friend of mine said about me. He said that I seem so regal. I can see where his assessment came from, but it was still funny to hear.
After analyzing all three of my friends' assessments of me, I've come to the conclusion that they're all right on the money. I'll admit - it hurt me a little to hear it because I never wanted to come off that way. In the world of gays, especially in Asbury Park, if a gay man is considered a prude, innocent and regal, therefore they are unapproachable and standoffish to other men. After all, who would want to try to make a pass or pick up a gay man who appeared to them in such a way? I'll be honest, I wouldn't make a move on me.
Men see me in a bar or restaurant sipping on a martini, giving off the air that I'm a prude or regal, and obviously I'm not very approachable. That is, unless that man is looking for a meal ticket or sugar daddy. One of my exes viewed me in that fashion when he met me, and that, unfortunately, became the basis of our relationship. So can I blame him? In retrospect I can't blame him, but it still hurts me sometimes. It still shakes my confidence that someone fell in love with my money before they fell in love with me.
Hell, I truly hate that I have the reputation of being out-of-reach! I really have no idea how I could possibly erase those assessments from the minds of gay men in the city. These were the blocks that my parents instilled in me, as that is the way they raised me and made great pains and sacrifices to supply me with the financial stability and responsibility that I possess to this day. I can't see anything wrong with it, except for the way others view it in me.
Even though my life's motto is "Whatever people think of me is none of my business", there are times when it is my business - mainly when it comes to my relationship status and why it is what it is.
My mother also instilled her standoffish nature in me. I'm very approachable and fiercely loyal to those friends and lovers who have taken the time to get to know me on all levels. But I know, sadly, that until you get to that point, I will always appear regal, prudish and innocent to the mass population. Pay careful attention to the word "appear", because although I appear this way, I am not at all.
So if you read my last blog entry, you know that I was feeling off because I'd witnessed two elderly gay men walking along Cookman Avenue holding hands, and was saddened because I felt like I'd never experience that with another man.
I secretly pray to myself each day that I'll find that one man who can look past my prudish, regal, unapproachable exterior and discover that I'm truly a sweet, approachable, loving, big-hearted man who just wants another man to treat him like a friend, passionate lover, confidante and soulmate.

Prince Charming lost his invitation to the ball, says Cindefella as he weeps

Right now I'm sitting in America's Cup on Cookman Avenue, ostensibly to work on my novel's rewrite. Trust me, I wanted to. But there are so many things on my mind that I'm not in any position to do that right now. And since writing a blog post helps clear my mind, I figured I'd do that instead.
Last weekend was the Mayor's Ball, the premier event of the year. Or so they told me before I purchased a ticket and attended. I won't say that it was an awful time. And I'm glad that I attended, if for nothing else but to say that I tried it out once. I'm not sure if I'll go again, though.
I had some friends who were there and had a good time hanging out with them. I sat at the last table in the back and couldn't hear one damn thing they said on stage. But that may have been a good thing, who knows. I was supposed to sit a lot closer to the stage, as a friend of mine told me prior to the event that I could sit at his table. But I guess it was an oversight, because when it came time for dinner, his table was surprisingly full. And there were a couple of people sitting there that I'm sure wouldn't have wanted to break bread with me. Sorry ... I may be a lot of things, but kiss-ass is not one of them. If I'm not too fond of you, trust me, you'll know it.
In any case, I won't say that he "chose" to not re-issue the invitation; I'll give him the benefit of the doubt and just say he forgot that he offered in the first place. But that's water under the bridge.
I saw the photos from the event, and it seems the mayor took photos with a majority of the tables. Funny, he never made it back to my table. I'm not complaining, because I really didn't want to be in any of those photos. I don't want anyone smiling in my face when they haven't even taken one minute to get to know me.
The best part of the night was the faux gambling and cigar smoking. I haven't smoked a cigar in a few years, and it was good to smoke one with a few friends. Laughing and joking with a few friends that night was the best part of the night.
I was joking prior to the ball that I was destined to meet my Prince Charming and that I was Cindefella. Albiet humorous, there was seriousness to my joking. Deep down, I was hoping that my prince would be at the ball and would sweep me off my feet. Stupid, huh?
That sort of thing doesn't happen in real life - only in fairytales and romantic chick flicks.
But sitting in the coffeehouse today, I saw the sweetest thing. Two elderly gentlemen were walking up Cookman Avenue holding hands. They must have been over 60 years old, I'd assume. But it was so good to see it. That's what I thought at first. Then I got a bit saddened. I wasn't sad because they were holding hands. I was sad because it is becoming a lot clearer to me that there is a strong possibility that I will never have a man with me, walking up the street and holding my hand so lovingly.
Perhaps it will never happen to me because romantically, I'm somewhat closed off. I don't mean to be, but sometimes it's part of my makeup. I grew up in a romance-less household, as my parents were only married in name. My mother was very miserable being married; I believe she only stayed married to my father because of her children.
I'd found out a long time ago that my mother wasn't intending to have any more children, and in her words, "I wasn't supposed to be born." She didn't mean it as harsh as it sounds, but her words still ring in my mind, sometimes horribly so. She would have been long gone if she wouldn't have had me and was stuck being in a marriage with no passion or romance.
Today that still breaks my heart. Because of that, I've been struggling so hard to make sure I found love and romance with a man. Unfortunately for me, I was so desperate to make sure it happened that I was willing to sacrifice my self-respect for the "loving" arms of men who weren't totally into me.
I'm getting a bit upset with myself, so I'm going to end this post right now and pick it up tomorrow. So stay tuned for part 2 ...

I may be damaged goods, but I'm goods nonetheless

My birthday was Friday, and I'm proud that I can say I'm 43 years old now and I've made it thus far with only a few scrapes and bruises ... to my heart.
I've had to deal with a lot of false starts in my search for a man who is worthy of me. Some people say there are no good homosexual men left out there in the world. They say all the good ones are taken, or scared of relationships, or just damaged goods. They've been through the fire a few too many times, and because of it, they are running for the hills, running far away from any sort of commitment.
That's my problem. I keep encountering these men. They tell me that they are afraid to get fully involved in a romance with me because they know I'm in it for the long haul. It's sad, because a lot of these guys who have the phobia of commitment seem to get in my way. I have these magnets on me that only attract these men.
Well, I've decided that I'm too old to keep chasing after the paper dreams that keep alluding me. These guys can stay away from me from now on. They seem to think they are doing me a favor by keeping me at arms' length, not letting me get too close to them, having indiscreminate sex with nameless, faceless individuals, avoiding going all the way (you know what I mean) with me because they know I am relationship material and they don't want to hurt me by turning their back on me after having sex, and sooner or later acting like assholes.
They actually are doing me a favor. I always take it as a rejection of sorts, but it's not a rejection at all; it's a blessing. They know I'm looking for someone just as competent, financially secure and loving as I am, and in the end they really are saving me from a lot of chaos, drama and heartache.
So thank you!
Everyone is damaged in their own way, shape or form. Even I am damaged. But even though I am damaged goods, I am goods nonetheless. And it's abominable to continue throwing myself under the bus just to have something as "far-fetched" as a relationship.
I'm not looking for the man of my dreams anymore. That person doesn't exist. I know that now. And I'm content with that knowledge.
Besides, there are a lot worse things in life than being single. Just turn on the news or read a newspaper and you'll see what I mean. So in the long run, I'm pretty lucky if the worst thing in my life is being single and never finding the man of my dreams.
Wow, I guess I really am growing up.

Don't hitch your dreams to a falling star 'cause you'll go down in flames

I deleted my last post from my blog because after speaking to a couple of people I thought it might be a bit exposed and may have put too much information about this guy I was falling for into the public eye. At the time that I wrote that post, I was sort of in the eye of the storm, so to speak.
But as a blogger, that was a mistake - I should have left it up. No matter how close our words hit to home, we should never be afraid to speak the truth.
If you didn't see the post, it was about a guy who I'd begun hanging out with. This guy was in a long-term relationship in the past, and when the relationship with the guy ended, the man of my attentions was really beaten up by it. But despite all of that, and his holding me at arm's length, I still went forward.
We were in the midst of an "intimate friendship". Our friendship was progressing pretty well and we were getting closer. I still wanted to avoid falling for this guy because he had all the markings of a man who would hurt me in the long run. Of course I fooled myself into thinking that all my fears were only because I'd been hurt by guys so many times in the past that I was just cynical.
So despite my apprehensions I let my guard down and let him in.
My mistake.
I'm feeling really stupid today because I found out something about this guy that I'd been too clueless to understand in the past. This guy who I was beginning to become attached to is a functioning alcoholic. How'd I find this out? He made dinner plans with me, a very nice dinner that I never asked for but he wanted to do for me because he, as he said, "really loves spending his time with me".
That dinner never materialized. And even though I waited all evening for the dinner that never happened, I wasn't truly worried about the dinner. I was concerned because I hadn't been able to get in touch with him. I was worried that this guy who I truly liked was hurt, or worse. I know - it sounds dramatic. But after you lose someone so special in your life to death, as I'd lost my mother a few months ago, you begin to fear that you'll lose others the same way.
So I don't know if I was happy or angry when I went out to the bar last night, got out of my vehicle, and saw this guy at the entrance. I was happy he was alive, but that quickly turned to fury when I realized he didn't remember the dinner he had planned with me. He stood me up, and sadly didn't even realize he stood me up! His excuse - he can't be responsible for his actions because he's an alcoholic. I still can't believe those words came out of his mouth.
No matter the reason, I am now totally disillusioned in men. How could he say something like that, and to top it off, he felt like I shouldn't have gotten involved because he's an alcoholic. I know he said it when he was drunk, about not getting involved with him, but I couldn't help that despite this man being a self-proclaimed alcoholic, I was undeniably drawn to his sincerity, kindness and generosity.
But how the hell did I know he was an alcoholic? Or a better question would be why the hell was an educated, intelligent man such as myself so stupid about a person that I still didn't know very well?
So this is the reason why I have to take a look within myself and try to understand why I would be so oblivious to all of it. Am I that desperate to find a man to love me that I'd ignore so many warning signs? Did I hitch my dreams of a true romance to a falling star, and now I'm just sour because that falling star has gone down in flames?
Maybe I should check myself into a rehab for people addicted to bad romance. And if they don't have a place to help people like me, they definitely should have one.

Never let 'em see you sweat and, obviously, never let 'em see you frown

These past couple of weeks have been difficult for me. I lost my job and have had to deal with some personal issues.
In the process of coming to terms with all of this, I also discovered something else ... some people just don't like to deal with a depressed person.
People are used to seeing a smiling, joking, jovial Eric. So having to deal with a less happier Eric, it seems, doesn't suit too well. For a lot of reasons, this one in particular, I usually choose to keep the upset, miserable, depressed Eric deep down inside and simply let the world see the upbeat, crazier version of myself.
I'm happy with the zany version, for the most part. People love to laugh, and I love to make people laugh. Being the life of the party is fun, anyway. And who wouldn't want to be the life of the party, right?
So that's what I'm going to do - just smile, laugh, and take Asbury Park by storm. Take Asbury Park by storm? Not sure if that's going to happen. But I'm sure as hell going to take the words to Smokey Robinson and the Miracles' hit song, "Tears of a Clown" and put it to good use.
So that's my plan. And I don't want to be walking around Asbury Park and hanging out, having to let people know what's on my mind. Do people really want to know? And if I'm smiling and joking, people won't think anything is wrong in my world anyway.
I'll make sure I'm always smiling and laughing, as I know this is what people love to see. This is something I want to do. I think it'll make me feel better and allow others to feel better as well, especially since it's 4th of July weekend and it's time to party.
Now where's my jello shot?!?

When a door closes a window opens, but why do my windows have bars

Right now I'm sitting at home, listening to the '80s channel on MusicChoice.
I normally would be running out my front door, making a mad dash for my truck so I could make it to work on time. But I don't need to do that today. Or for that matter, any day in the near future.
I never thought it would ever happen to me, but the long arm of the unemployment fairy clubbered me over the head. I was one of a few dozen employees at my job to be cut down by the awful recession.
Me, of all people.
I say that, not because I think I deserved to stay and others deserved to get the 'ol heave-ho before me. I would never say that - out loud. No, I know losing my job had nothing to do with my work performance or skills. Hell, I worked over 60 hours on my job every week. It was just the person I am. For some reason, my obsessive compulsion nature (a well hidden secret - or so I hope) put myself in the mind frame that if I worked my 40 hours weekly, I was cheating myself out of something. I know it's weird, and I never really wanted people to know that I do have that obsessive compulsive disorder. I don't even think my best friends in my life know that about me. Well, my best friend for almost 30 years knows this about me, and likely my sister (whom I consider one of my best friends) knows it, too. I've tried to never discuss it; I think it's one of the most embarrassing things about me. And those who know me are aware that I like to put on a good impression and appearance.
So right now, slowly all of those obsessive compulsive idiosyncracies of mine are, little by little, resurfacing. When I was working 60-plus hours a week, it was easy to disguise these qualities in me. But as I've gone from working 60-plus hours a week to zero, it's very difficult to keep those traits at bay. I'm trying my best, but as one of those traits for me is never being able to sleep, that is the most important issue to correct. I haven't slept in a few days, but I've always only needed to sleep 3 or 4 hours a day anyway. I'm not worried yet - I think.
I guess the truth is that I also feel guilty, a feeling I haven't felt in a little while. See, I worked like a hounddog for years, also trying to work at least 12 hours a day. If I left before 12 hours, I felt like I was cheating myself. So even when my mother was sick, I would work my ass off to forget all the craziness, because when I was working incessantly, I knew I was in control of my fate.
So now I have to realize that as I worked so long and hard, and as my mother got worse and worse, I could find solace in the fact that work was so important and even though my mother didn't like the fact that I was a workaholic like my father, she appreciated my drive. And as I know that she never blamed me for being a workaholic, I am very upset that my workaholic nature, which kept me from being with my mother when she needed me the most in her life (during her illnesses), really was for naught. The reason - no matter how much I worked on advancing my career and giving 200 percent to my job, in the blink of an eye I was cut from my job.
So now I don't have a job, and this time, which I would have loved to spend being there for my mom right now, isn't even important because my mother is gone. Boy, timing sucks sometimes.
I can't help but wonder why I'm in this position. As I recall, the famous saying is that when a door closes a window opens. But why are there bars on my windows? So the door has closed, the windows are opened. But I'm locked inside. I don't really feel too much like going outside. I mean, why go outside? I know it will make me feel better, at least that's what I've been told. But I just don't believe it, because when I've gone ouside as of late, it just feels blah.
Don't get it twisted ... I am not feeling sorry for myself, that's just not me. But I am feeling a tornado of feelings, and I'm not sure what they are and how to stop them from overflooding me.
Time, I know, time will change things. Lord, I hope time will make me feel better. I'm confident it will, and I'll keep telling myself that.
I know one thing is a definite ... all crazy, drama-filled guys who think I'm an easy target right now - beware! I know I enjoy the company of gentlemen, but rest assured (and be forewarned) that I am in no mood to put up with any crap from any of you.
So don't try to get to me with anything less than a sincere, honest approach. And don't venture into my fortress unless you are indeed a prince. Because just as always, toads will get squashed.
I've cleansed myself of all the toads in my life. And to make it a done deal, I've gone through my cell phone and black book, and have erased your numbers from both.
So for the stalker who keeps trying to contact me every time you run into me out around town, don't call me again.
For the guy who dresses like he's a throwback from the '80s, don't call me again.
For the couple of wishy-washy guys who try to ingratiate themselves into my life by using the "poor, pitiful me" routine and think I'm going to fall all over you in a flawed attempt to "save you from yourself", leave me alone.
And for all of the jerks who make every attempt to fool me with kind words, a genuine nature, sex appeal and winning smile, I can see right through you now. The few of you know who you are, and I'm no longer impressed.
I'm vulnerable, but I know that I am only going to date the guy who comes to me with an open mind, open heart and who I won't have to open my wallet to make him happy. He's out there, I know it. I may be a hopeless romantic, but I still know it's not hopeless.
So man of my dreams (or at least man who's not my nightmare), break down those bars on the window and come through. There is a key though, but I'll only let you have it if you're worth possessing it.

I'm no Regina George, but man, do I know a couple of them

I was speaking to a couple of friends about the movie "Mean Girls" and we just starting laughing.
We weren't laughing about the movie, per say, but we were laughing about the fact that in Asbury Park there's a gay man or two who could actually be mistaken for the character in the movie named Regina George. Now if you haven't seen the movie, Regina George is a real bitch and tries to make others feel less-than while in her presence. She also has put together a "Burn Book", where she does a lot of trash talking about people who really have no idea they are in it. A true bitch! In fact, I guess you could actually compare that character to Christie Masters, the bitch character in the movie "Romy and Michelle's High School Reunion". But Regina George fits the description a lot better.
This gay man, it's obvious that I don't even need to say his name because everyone in Asbury Park knows who this person is. He's a good guy, but can be a real bitch who needs to feel superior to other people for what reason, I have no idea.
But the funny thing is that in the gay community, there are a lot of distinctive characteristics we fall into. A few of the gay men in the community are Regina Georges, but there's a lot more categories.
Now in my case, I fall into the category of butch. Guys like me who are butch are extremely "straight-acting" men who just happen to be gay. There's a lot of gay men in the community like me. Some of us like to go out with other "straight-acting" guys because we have a lot in common with them. But some of us like to date men who fall into other categories.
One of those categories would be queens. Now the gay men who are considered queens are the ones who, as it was said back in the day, have a lot of sugar in their tank. I really didn't know what that meant before, but I know what it means now. Queens are the guys who are effeminate and seem very flamboyant, ones who seem like they could just fly away. They are closer to feminine than anything else. Sometimes you just love to be around them; at times, though, their flamboyant nature can be a bit too much.
Bears, another category in the gay community, are just so sweet-natured and lovable. Bears are men who are a bit heavier in weight, and mostly hairy. They exude a hell of a lot of confidence in themselves and their weight, and they make their weight and hairyness something to be proud of. Also part of the bear community would be the cubs. Now cubs are simply young bears. Cubs have all the physical and mental attributes of a bear, they just aren't old enough to be a full-fledged bear. Also related to these are otters, who are slimmer and less hairy bear-admirers, and wolves are bears that are typically more aggressive and overtly masculine.
Twinks are those guys in the community who are young and free, so to speak. When I say free, I just mean that they seem like they have not a care in the world. Most times, twinks do have a lot of worries, but they seem to mask it well. But they are very young in age and carefree in their nature. These guys have such a youthful exuberance about life.
Now Broadway boys are just so special, in my opinion. They usually frequent piano bars and break out in song to the tunes of "Hello Dolly" or "Suddenly Seymour". They can sometimes be a little queeny, but for the most part, they just like to sing Broadway tunes and be a bit flamboyant about it. I just love them!
Angels are just goody-goody guys who make the gay life seem easy. They like to be the do-gooders who give their time and efforts back to the community. They'll volunteer their time to the cause, just to make things easier for others.
The troubled are just that - troubled. They like to see the negative side of being gay, and they like to make others see that side as well. Sometimes these people are too much to take, and their odd anger at being gay is just too much to take. They are troubled souls, and no matter how disappointing their lives seem to be, others can't help but want to make them see the more positive sides of being gay. And to their detriment, troubled souls love the attention. They feed off of it.
Now these definitions that I've supplied are in my opinions only. There are a lot of other categories, but for the most part, these represent the gay male community. Sometimes the categories merge - in that case, for example, a butch gay man can also be a Broadway boy. I'm that way at times, and hell, I just love it when I get that way.
So, my fellow gay men, which category do you fall into? I know some people don't like labels, but all of us can lump ourselves into one of these groups.

Take the mask off ... it's really okay to show your vulnerable side

Well another PRIDE weekend has come and gone. And this one was different than the other ones I've experienced in Asbury Park.
The reason: I've finally realized that it is okay to take my mask off and show my vulnerability. I've been feeling like I should not show my vulnerable side because men who I'm interested in will take it for granted.
I don't care if they can't handle that characteristic in me ... no longer will I care. I have to be myself, and not care what the guy thinks of me. Hell, I've always worn my heart on my sleeve, and this old dog ain't gonna learn any new tricks.
I think I've been going about things all wrong in my pursuit of a relationship. I've been trying to change myself to mold into a caricature of what will please that guy and not being true to myself. And it struck me as weird that I never realized that even though I do control my own destiny, there is no need at all to settle for something less-than in any relationship. I've been settling, and that crap stops right now.
And I've realized other men may be doing the same thing. My advice to them would be to take themselves off the clearance rack, stop marking their self-worth down to a lower price range, and put themselves behind the glass case. When someone wants to choose them - the item in the glass case - they will know they are not picking you off the clearance rack.
Yesterday while enjoying my PRIDE weekend I encountered three different men. One man, I've been fooling around with behind closed doors. I've developed feelings for him, despite all efforts to avoid it. I'm not in love with him or anything like that. I've just begun to feel some feelings for him.
I ran into him while enjoying the festivities, and he seemed to be apprehensive when we spoke. We only spoke briefly, but in that short minute it hit me. I realized that although I have begun to have some type of feelings for this gentleman, I knew - in that brief minute - that he has other obligations in his life and there is no future at all for me in his life ... other than a fling. That's how he sees me, and I know now that in his life, there is no room for anything but a casual dalliance.
When I left him, I kissed him. And in that kiss, I knew it had to be goodbye. It was a goodbye kiss. It's sad when reality slaps you in the face, but to be honest we were, as Air Supply sings, "Making Love Out of Nothing At All". And I deserve a hell of a lot more. Especially since I know that if my mama were alive, she'd slap me silly for ever settling for second best.
The second man I ran into yesterday is a good friend of mine. He's an enigma of sorts. He's sexy, in a downplayed sort of way. He always makes me laugh ... the type of guy who everyone loves to be around. But while speaking to him, I realized that even though he's a sweet-natured guy who has a big heart, he doesn't want anyone to know it. He's comfortable with people thinking he's a cad, a guy who just wants people to think he has no feelings at all. But when you look in this man's eyes, you can see into his soul. There is so much more to this man than meets the eye. But he has this mask, of sorts, that hides his inner-self from being exposed.
I really wish he'd open himself up and let people see the true man that he is. But that's the way it is for a lot of gay men. I told him it's okay to show his vulnerable side, but I think it fell on deaf ears. I hope he figures out what I've come to learn. I've learned that it's okay to take the mask off, and it's really okay to show your vulnerable side.
My PRIDE weekend ended with, perhaps, the saddest encounter with a guy. This young man has a lot to offer people. But sadly he has no idea of his self-worth. It's unfortunate because he knows that he thinks he has to buy friendship in this city. He knows it, and even admitted it to me. I found this all too unsettling.
I wanted to hug this young man and just try to make him understand that there is no reason to do that. So as I spoke these words to him, he just would not believe it. He told me that even though he does feel like he needs to buy people respect, admiration and friendship, he knows that people don't like him because he has nothing to offer people other than becoming a dollar sign and buying friends.
This young man just wants to make friends - that's all. I told him that he'll find his patch of golden girls ... I did, and thank my lucky stars every day that my golden girls are in my life.
Alas, he didn't believe me. I fear for this young man, because he's at a vulnerable stage in his gay life. He even said to me that if he just up and died, people wouldn't even notice he was gone. This breaks my heart, especially since he said his parents don't even talk to him anymore because he's gay.
I never mention people in my blog by name ... that's my policy, and this is no exception. I wish that I could reveal this guy's name, because I think that people would show him how much they care about him - as a person, not as a walking, talking wallet.
I will keep a close eye on this person, because I think that everyone in the community should "gay it forward". It was done for me, and I'm gonna make sure it's done for him as well.
But this PRIDE weekend was a true experience for me, and I'm happy that I've made it through another one, not battered but brighter. And smarter.

Alone again, naturally

Right now things are very difficult for me.
Last week a member of the family passed away. She was a sweet soul, and during my time that I was very entrenched in religion she was instrumental in my journey. When I attended her funeral this week, it was a sad time. And all week, I couldn't help but feel such sadness and depression over my own mother's death a few months ago.
Constant tears have been falling. I thought I'd come to terms with my mom's death, but I haven't. I truly miss my mom. And as I know that I have an entire host of close friends and family members around me, I feel utterly alone. Not lonely, but alone.
It feels like I've been falling into a deep hole and can't get out or stop myself from falling. I need to smile and laugh so people don't sense my despair. But I can't keep things bottled up anymore.
I miss my mom and really need to hear her voice again, or just see her so we can talk about things. I took her for granted when she was alive, I guess because I always thought she'd be here for me. Looking back, she'd done a lot of selfless things for me, just to make things easier for me and because I was "her baby". Funny, it used to drive me crazy when she'd introduce me to people as her baby - her youngest child. Secretly, I really liked it because hearing her say that made me feel like she and I had a special bond.
It breaks my heart that I am no longer anyone's baby.
I know so many people in my life do understand how I'm feeling. But I can't take comfort in that because I don't want to take comfort in that. I wanted to rush home to my guy and have him hug me - just hug me. But then I realized that I don't have that person in my life right now. So no hug. :(
It's funny how when you need a simple hug and the chance to cuddle with that special someone in your life, and that person isn't there for you, it makes a situation just as harsh.
So I am trying to just keep my head above water and smile. Trust me, a hell of a lot of alcohol has helped ease all the pain. But I can't use that as a crutch anymore ... I need to come to terms with everything.
I really don't know what my next step should be.
But I just don't want to feel alone anymore. It's a terrible feeling.

Was it just a dream, or was she trying to pass along her pearls of wisdom?

I hate to admit it, but I'm one of those men who wears his heart on his sleeve.
You see, I've entered into a liaison - of sorts - with a man who I thoroughly enjoy and love spending time with as much as I possibly can. We have so much in common and he makes me smile, just by looking at me. And just when his hand touches mine, it's like electricity runs through me. The connection is extremely strong, and I even enjoy getting his text messages when we can't see each other.
Very recently, a slow song came on the radio and we just started to dance - right where we were standing. I'm sure that doesn't mean too much to some people, but that type of romantic move is something I don't usually do. I always thought doing that was somewhat hokey and lame, but I don't think that way anymore. He just, literally, swept me off my feet.
Sounds like something you only find in chick flicks or those romantic-comedy movies when the lead characters end up together in the end, after experiencing some bumps in the road and missed connections. Right?
Well that won't happen to us; we won't end up together when all is said and done. I won't go into the details why I know this will not be our destiny. Just believe me when I say that we won't end up together. I'm not being a cynical, pessimistic romantic, either. It's just the way life will happen for us.
I've had this situation on my mind a lot lately. I guess that's why I had the dream that I had last night. Although I'm not sure if it was a dream or a message.
I had a dream about my mother. As most who follow my blog already know, my mother passed away in October. I think she was giving me a message, possibly some advice, about things. I just can't recall a lot of it and I've been trying to piece it together. But I figured that I might not be able to discover the intent of the message, or if it's a message at all.
So I went about my business today. I went to boot camp (which was a real kick in my ass to get in gear). I heard the songs, "Rock Steady" by Aretha Franklin and "Midnight Train to Georgia" by Gladys Knight and the Pips. These were two of the songs that my mother used to play on Sunday mornings on her record player, I believe to get the house in good spirits. I thought it was weird to hear those songs back-to-back, but I chalked it up to just coincidence. When I sing these songs, especially for karaoke, I feel very close to my mother.
Then I went to Munch in Asbury Park to get a little breakfast. Then something odd happened. A friend of mine came in and mentioned to me that he was down Atlantic City, played the slots and didn't win. He went to the Borgata, which was my mother's place of gambling. Another person had mentioned that he was going down today and would be hanging out at Harrah's, which was my mother's other place to gamble in A.C.
It was almost as if my mom was trying to get a message to me again this morning. But I can't figure it out.
Maybe something will happen to clear a path to my understanding. Perhaps Mom is trying to offer me some words of her wisdom.
Time will tell.

I'd forgotten how difficult it was to be gay and hiding it from everyone

This past Sunday I went to The Showroom in Asbury Park to see "Edge of Seventeen".
For those who know the film, "Edge of Seventeen" is about a teenager, appropriately named Eric, who is struggling through his senior year as a homosexual not yet ready to come to terms with his sexual orientation. To mask his homosexuality, he enters into a romantic relationship with his best friend Maggie, while simultaneously falling in love with his summer fling, Rod.
My advice is for everyone, gay and straight, to see this film if you get the chance. It will help those in the very same situation understand things a little better, as it will also help those who don't know what it's like to endure such a struggle to have some empathy for gays.
So many individuals in the gay community share Eric's story. And I'm no exception.
I used to hide the fact that I am gay from everyone. I really don't know why I was always so scared to come out. I think things would have been a lot simpler for myself in the long run.
Perhaps it was because I didn't want to lose my parents' respect and love. I am a very religious person, and I figured that all I heard was correct - that God would forsake me if I acknowledged my homosexuality. I know that would never happen, no matter what many in the spiritual community care to say. And no, I'm not going to get bogged down in all the pros and cons about how God will react - mainly because I don't engage in the debate and never will. So don't start the conversation with me when you see me because I will immediately turn and walk in the other direction.
But I'd forgotten how difficult it was to be a gay man and hiding it from everyone. At a certain point in my lfe I'd just gotten to be so tired of all the hiding. Because who was I hiding from, anyway? I was only hiding from myself.
I was "out" twice before I finally stayed "out". The first time, I'd gone to Woody's in Philly with a group of friends who I worked with, and I had a blast. One of my friends invited me to hang out with he and his partner a couple of times after that, and I had fun. But unfortunately, my friend's partner started to dislike my hanging out and became pretty jealous of me. So I just got so tired of the drama (I wasn't prepared for any drama since I'd just wanted to come out in peace) and I reverted back to "the land of straight people".
The second time was a couple of years later. To make a long story short, take the first time, change the names, and you have the same scenario for my second time.
The final time, I decided to do it my way. No drama, no hassles, no partners or boyfriends using me as a scapegoat for their own issues. I chose to make my own path. So I told three people who I knew would let me know what they thought, no matter what.
I told my sister - who gave me unconditional love and support, and didn't change her opinion of me one single bit. To this day, my sister is one of my best friends and closest confidantes.
I told my best female friend, who'd been my best friends for over 25 years. She loved me and remained by my side. She did mention the religious aspect of my decisions, but stood by my side no matter what.
I told my best male friend. His reaction was surprising. We'd always been so politically incorrect and laughed at so many of life's absurdities. We would always do so many crazy things and act stupid just to be stupid. But when I told him, he let me know he didn't understand, wouldn't be comfortable about it, and told me that as long as I didn't bring it around him he'd be fine with me being in his life. Suffice it to say, our camaraderie and close-knit friendship slowly withered away. At this point, we are just Facebook friends and rarely interact. To this day, that hurts me. But he made his choice and so did I.
But nowadays, most everyone knows I'm gay. And if they don't, I don't mind if they do. I am totally comfortable with my decisions, and my choice to acknowledge my sexual orientation and embrace my life wholeheartedly, with no apology.
So when I hear how some young teens and adults are ostracized for making the decision to come out, it just makes me cringe. It's time to start giving back to those young people who are going through the same things we did when we were younger. Even if it's simply talking to our younger gay community and sharing your experiences with them so they don't feel so alone, that would be a start.
I hope, through my blog, novel and writings, I am giving back to the younger gay generation in some way. It's just a start.
But if the young members of the gay community get a chance, they should definitely watch "Edge of Seventeen", if for nothing else but to make certain they avoid Eric's mistakes and, at the same time, embrace his courage and strength.

I've forgotten to make sure I have a worthy back-up plan for the future

In my haste to make sure I do everything on my own, I've neglected to make sure I have some support.
Support in the form of a person who I can turn to when I get older. Someone who would be willing to share my life with me. A man who will be there for me through smooth sailing and rough waters.
Not a life partner.
But a back-up plan.
I never really thought I'd need a back-up plan. But as I get older, I realize that I don't have a significant other to take care of me if I were to get sick.
I guess it hit home for me on Friday night. I'd had a long week of working long hours and went to one of favorite restaurants, The Harrison, for dinner. (An aside - The Harrison will be going through renovations for a couple of weeks, and I hear that it will have a great new look and a new name ... stay tuned!)
But anyway, I was having dinner there, just as I do pretty much every week. And I looked around to see couples, whether in the years-long stage or the beginnings of the getting-together stage. Couples everywhere!
Hell, it looked ... well, it looked nice. Gay, straight, etc. It was just nice to see.
Initially.
And then it hit me that I wasn't one of them. I usually don't care. But for some reason it was different Friday night.
I've always said that I don't need a man to complete me, and who needs the hassles because I can do bad all by myself. In fact, I can get along without another man in my life, right?
Wrong.
I may not need a partner in my life. But I do need a back-up plan. I should have found that back-up plan when I was younger, because in gay years when you're 40 you might as well say that you are in your 50s.
The need for a back-up plan is a fact of my life that I've just been trying to ignore because that would mean I need to face reality. I never figured I'd die alone, but sooner or later reality is going to bite me on the ass and I'll have to acknowledge that there is a strong possibility that I will.
I have a boatload of good friends; I'm well aware that I have supportive persons out there who care about me and look out for my best interests. And I have a close-knit family who would do anything to make sure I'm happy. I'm blessed in that way, and I thank God every day for each and every one of them.
When my mother passed away a couple of months ago, she was surrounded by loving family and friends. And I know that she knew that she was loved. But am I going to have the same love surrounding me?
I don't mean family and friends - I'm sure I'll have that.
But will I have that enduring, everlasting, unconditional love that my partner would give me at that time? And if not, should I prepare myself to have a back-up, a man in my life who isn't my partner but a person who I can count on to do all the things a partner would do?
One of my old friends just acquired his back-up plan. All my thinking about this issue is thanks to him. I don't live around him anymore since I've moved to Asbury Park, but I guess in the back of my mind I always thought he'd be mine. But as of right now, he's taken. And I'm happy for him.
So begs the question - do you have a back-up plan in your life?
For me, it's the next thing on my to-do list.

Just when you think you've mastered all 5 stages of the break-up process ...

I thought I was well through all five stages of the breaking up process, but I realized that was not the case.
Actually I did it in a different order, and I think that may have been the problem.
For those who don't know, the five stages - in order - are: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and then ultimately, acceptance.
It's been over a year since I broke up with this particular ex-boyfriend. And even though we've been able to manage to hold onto a friendship (part of the bargaining stage), something just kept nagging at me. I was trying to figure out what was "off" about this entire situation. And then it hit me about a month ago.
What I realized, as I encountered him at a local Asbury Park establishment one night, was something I just wasn't prepared to experience.
I was feeling anger. I did go through (at stage 2) a bit of feeling upset. But I never felt angry about him or what he'd put me through during our relationship. When I ran into him last month I realized that I was feeling very angry. Then I immediately felt guilty that I was feeling anger.
I was angry at a lot:
Angry that he held me at arms length because he was insecure in loving me;
Angry that he caused a lot of chaos with my friendships;
Angry that he put his best friend ahead of me in so many aspects of our relationship;
Angry that I ingratiated him into my family with open arms, but he wouldn't let me meet his family;
Angry that I had to consistently hear rumors about him cheating on me - whether the rumors were true or false, I still had to deal with the gossip;
Angry that he always made me feel like I was so much better than he was and I was on a higher level, one he tried desperately to reach;
Angry that I gave him everything - emotionally and financially - throughout our relationship, and he never really gave too much back and hardly ever paid for anything;
Angry that he said that he loved me, but all too often he never showed me that love (or at the level I felt I should have been shown love);
Angry that he made me (and others) feel like I was his Sugar Daddy (when I'm way too young to even be one);
Angry that he couldn't control his alcohol and made a spectacle of himself, and most people thought I should have been babysitting his tantrums while we were out about town;
Angry at myself.
I was angry at myself because I let myself do all these things for him, and I felt slightly stupid for providing unconditional love.
But I'm not angry anymore. I'm at peace with myself.
I guess in some ways I made him feel guilty or inadequate for not being as mature or successful in his life that I felt he should have been at this stage of his life.
But I know why I was angry at myself. I'm just getting past the anger, but I was angry at myself because I allowed him (albeit possibly unconsciously) to cause me to feel guilty for being successful professionally, personally and financially. He caused me to feel like I was too good for him, and like I knew it and lauded it over him.
I was angry and felt guilty because, deep down, I knew he was right. And, God forgive me, I think I still feel that way. And I don't like to feel that way because I don't want to think I might be a snob. Especially since a friend of mine mentioned to me some time ago that when he sees me around Asbury Park, I carry myself like I'm almost regal. He didn't mean it as an insult; only an observation.
But I realize that my ex felt the same way, and that's one of the reasons why he felt like he wasn't on my level.
Don't get me wrong - my ex has a lot of great qualities and he's genuinely a nice person. I wouldn't trade the time I spent with him because I learned a lot about myself throughout our relationship.
And I'm glad the anger stage is past me. But I just hope that the next time I go through the break-up process (I have my fingers crossed that if I find romance again I never have to go through a break-up), I go through it in the order that the five stages are laid out.
It'll make things much easier. Or so I hope!

It's impossible to get what you want if you never really say what you want

Out about town last night, I stopped into one of the bars in Asbury Park that I frequent.
And I'm glad that I did. It was very enlightening, and I think I may have a handle on what I need to do in my life to reach the next level.
One of my bartender friends gave me a very profound piece of wisdom. He said to me that you're not going to get what you want from these guys unless you start telling the guys what you want from them. And it was pretty profound, because I guess I do have the fear that if I tell someone what I want from them, then they might think they have power over me and turn me down.
Fear of rejection is a powerful force.
It's so weird that sometimes just someone saying something that deep down you already know, it just makes it easier to do what you need to do.
What prompted my friend to offer me this nugget of advice? Well while at the bar I ran into a guy who I've gone back and forth with, toying with the potential of a romantic involvement. And I've held this guy at arms length for some time, because I just don't trust that anyone will be genuine with their feelings towards me. The fact that my potential suitor hasn't made much progress with me could be my own fault because I don't trust guys at the moment.
So me and my potential suitor sat down and had a long conversation about so many things, and we learned a lot about each other and our lives. It was really good to open up to someone who just wanted to get to know me better. And I really should give him the benefit of the doubt; I need to realize that just because SOME guys have let me down doesn't mean ALL guys will let me down.
I guess you've guessed, if you've been following my blog, that I've been hurt and disappointed by men in the past. But I let them hurt and disappoint me. It's time to take that power back and put it into my own hands ... back where it belongs.
So the advice is something I've known for some time, but I was just afraid to acknowledge that I'm okay with expressing what I want because I deserve what I want. And if I don't tell people what I want, I ain't gonna get it.
So I'm going to tell people what I want, and I'm going to start getting what I deserve.
So here I go ...
I want a relationship, and I want someone to shower me with romance;
I don't want the casual sex but I do want the passion that goes into a sexual relationship;
I want guys who are interested in a strong, sensitive black man to approach me correct, because these guys who approach me and find themselves taken aback when they realize I'm not hood, but I am one black man who has intelligence, a successful career, financial stability and I can hold a conversation past "whazzup?" (I mean, really? I've been told that I'm the whitest black man people have ever met ... and they're 100% correct in that assessment);
I want love from a man who doesn't see me as a dollar sign, a bank account with a smile;
I want it all!
So now I've spelled it out, and hopefully things will get better and I'll get what I want.

Sometimes I wish that my love life was just like my favorite love songs

I had dinner with my golden girls last night, and they mentioned something to me that I was not aware of. They were worried about me because of one of my most recent blog posts. So I just re-read it, and I can totally understand why they were worried about me.
I'm glad that I have close people in my life who will look out for me. I think that's the best thing about living in Asbury Park and enjoying the gay scene in the city.
It's a drastic opposite of some things that I dislike about the city's gay scene. Last week I went to the Miss Paradise Pageant. It was very long, and I guess they wanted to showcase every single drag performer in Asbury Park and the surrounding area. I was intending to do a write-up on the pageant, but it went way, way too long for me to write anything about it. I mean, really? The pageant only had 4 contestants; it shouldn't have taken almost four hours to crown a drag queen as the next Miss Paradise. Maybe I'm wrong, but I doubt it. But to be honest, the drag queens who performed gave their all and they did a fantastic job!
I was sort of surprised that I went anyway, because I did something very nice for one of the past Miss Paradise drag queens, and she didn't even say "thank you". That left a very sour taste in my mouth, but no big deal I guess because one bad apple don't spoil the whole bunch, right?
So there's always good and bad within the gay community in this city.
But I digress ...
The point of this blog really breaks down to a love song. I was working out at the gym and one of my favorite love songs came on my iPod. It's not really the type of love song like "Truly" by Lionel Richie or "At Last" by Etta James.
This song is by the Jets, an '80s love song called "You've Got It All". That song, I wish, was one I could relate to right now. It's about a person who is in a new relationship, and they realize that the new person has finally made all the bad things perpetrated on them by their previous lover just fade away. Because the new person has given their all into making them forget all the horrific acts be the past love of their life.
I would like that in my life. I guess everyone wants a new love to help them forgive all the past misdeeds by their past loves. I think that's one of the reasons why my golden girls were so worried about me. I know me, and I know that I really don't need someone to help me get over my demons of the past.
When I read my past blog over again, I could actually feel the anger and loss in my words. I was having a mini-meltdown because I was so stressed from working so much, missing my mother and dealing with the crazy guys who've been interested in me and who've jerked me around. But I'm better now.
I'm also ready for a new love to bust into my life and show me as much love, passion and understanding as I know I, myself, am capable of doling out. But I'm not going to chase it down like I've done in the past. This time, they are going to chase after me. It's going to be an even trade by me and my future guy. No more me giving 80 percent and the other person giving 20 percent. It needs to be 50-50 or it won't work. I've learned my lesson.
So perhaps my love life will follow the lyrics of "You've Got It All" and my future guy will have it all over all the rest of my previous suitors.
One can only hope.

Things always look better in the morning ... or so I've been told

This has been one long, difficult week. And now that I've completed my therapy session this morning (washing and folding laundry), I can reflect on this week.
I've been working a lot, and I'm just burned out! It's time for a vacation - or should I say furcation - and I'm counting down the minutes (7 days, 12 hours, 18 minutes and 5 seconds to be exact) that I can just relax and let all the stress go from my life.
This past week, I've been through the ringer - literally. Last Sunday I went to a pre-Valentine's Day dinner with my ex-boyfriend. It was fun, and I guess I just wanted to prove to myself that we are friends and that I'm ready to move on. And I proved that to myself. See I guess that I was one of those hopeless disciples who just likes to give people the benefit of the doubt. So since I know that we can be friends, I can move on with a clear conscience.
A good thing to boost my ego happened on Valentine's Day. I was invited to dinner by two guys who I've had a passing fancy for recently. One of them - I am just so over him and all his drama and putting up with his wishy-washy personality. To be blunt, he dresses poorly for a gay man and I love fashion. So turning him down was a no-brainer on my part. The other guy, I am attracted to, I must admit. But I knew that if I opened that Pandora's box, there'd be no closing it. I like him, but I don't even want to go down that road because usually that road I travel ends up rolling straight off the edge of a cliff. And I just don't want to be bothered right now.
And I'm glad I've been following my instinct and self-analyzation ... my gut never lies. Because last night I decided to go to Club Paradise and ran into the both of these guys, in addition to my ex-boyfriend. My ex was hanging all over this guy like cheap cologne lingers on the body scent of someone exercising who refuses to wash it off before he works out at the gym! And the other two guys - well let's just say I guess one of them was experiencing a bout of "hard feelings" towards me. The other one did say "hi" but acted like I'd hurt his feelings or I was avoiding him. After all, I never told him I never wanted to go to dinner with him, I just told him I wasn't able to go out with him on Valentine's Day.
But you know what - all of this shade they are throwing my way is the exact reason why my motto is - whatever someone thinks about me is none of my business! And it's so true ... say it to yourself three times quickly and you'll feel awesome.
And this week was difficult because I had to travel back to my hometown on Wednesday to sign some papers and I stopped by my mother's gravesite to see her. The cemetery still has her gravesite in disarray, and the person who's buried next to her is still somewhat of an open grave; they haven't totally filled in the dirt on that person's grave. So you can imagine my feelings when I had to witness this scene. It still stings me greatly because I still feel like my mother's not at peace. And that's what I've been trying to acknowledge - that mom's at peace. And I can't be at peace with her death until she is finally in a good place.
So right now all I want is an ice cream cone. My mom always said that I made the best homemade ice cream cones. I never knew why she said that, but I'd make her the best ice cream cone I've ever made in my life if she were still here to eat it.
I guess everyone always thinks that way.
All I know is that my mom would have been so proud of me for letting go of these guys who are toads and just aren't right for me, and holding out for my prince. I used to always want to turn the toads into the princes, but I'm too old and - hopefully - wise to waste my time and energy in the efforts it takes to build the perfect beast.
I've tried to build the perfect beast in all my past relationships. From now on, I'm only giving my time, energy, efforts and passion to the guy who is already the prince.
Because he, in turn, would be getting a prince himself! No bragging, only acknowledging ...
Jus sayin'! :)

Trusting, sadly, is no longer a word that I will have in my vocabulary

Perhaps it's because I'm in Asbury Park and have thrown myself into the city's craziness.
Perhaps it's because I needed to keep myself busy while living in "the world of gayness".
Or perhaps it's just because I wanted to find my place in all this drama.
For whatever reason I've found myself in the space that I'm in, I think I just want to take a break from the drama in my life ... and in fact, the dramatic persons in my life.
Yesterday I started out in the morning with such hopefulness. I don't know why I was so hopeful, but I just knew that yesterday was going to be a special day for me. I'd not felt so hopeful since my mother passed away, so I just believed that things would be really special for me yesterday.
I had my day all planned once I woke up yesterday. First I was going to do some massive cleaning of my home - truth be told, I've been so busy with work as of late, that I hadn't had a chance to give my home a thorough cleaning. But I threw myself into cleaning my place, and I felt good afterward.
Next, I went to the gym to do some boxing and serious workout. So I threw myself into my workout, and I felt so good afterward. The workout was a success.
Then I returned home to get myself together because I was having dinner over my golden gals' home. I was pretty sick all week long, so all I really have been able to eat has been soup, soup and more soup. I was all souped out! So I was so happy to have a home-cooked meal. And hanging with my golden gals was so much fun. We laughed and had an amazing time. I really needed that, boy!
The next phase of my evening was the point in the night that I'd been looking forward to all day long. I was going dancing at Club Paradise with my ex-boyfriend, whom I've been able to maintain a good friendship with since we've ended things. But to be honest, we'd discussed the connection between us and how after all this time, we were still emotionally connected. I hadn't been in a place to venture back into a relationship, but I wasn't exactly sure why. I know I'd been hurt by some actions in our relationship, but I knew that I'd put all that hurt behind me. And I knew that he wanted to get things started again for some time.
For some reason, I knew yesterday that I'd be in a position to "possibly" give it another try ... or at least discuss the possibility. He helped me tremendously during the time following my mother's death, and I'd recently been there for him during his grandmother's passing. He'd shown me the type of person I knew he could be, and I was trusting again. I was going to give him the benefit of the doubt.
So when he asked me to go dancing with him, as well as go to dinner for Valentine's Day tonight, I was going to let myself be open to the possibility of maybe opening the door a little for him to be in my life again - not as a boyfriend, but as a "friend with benefits".
So I went to Paradise, all ready for a night of dancing. But as the minutes passed, and the first hour passed, I knew he'd eventually get there to meet me. He was only an hour late, right? I sent him a text message just to see where he was. Then as two hours had passed, I gave him a call to make sure he was okay. No answer, nor no response to my text message. Okay, I knew how much dancing with me meant to him, so I was getting pretty worried. I wasn't sure if he was hurt, or even worse. At this point, worrying about him like I was, I realized that I still had feelings for him. I had to acknowledge that fact.
At this point, while I was still waiting for him to get his ass to Paradise, it seemed like the guys who I've had some sort of involvement with just started to show up in my "personal space". First the guy who I'd been toying with the idea of getting together with approached me at the bar. He flirted like he does, and I did a little flirting back. But then after a bit, he did what he usually does and retreats - it's become a habit with him, and I just turned my back on him, because this little act of his was getting very old. I was totally over it ... and over giving him any attention at all.
Of course, after he took off, another one of my guys (I don't want to call him anything at all, 'cause I've never known what to call him at all) approached me and wanted to do his stupid flirting and trying to pick me up - once again. Been there, done that - and I don't want to deal with the guy anymore! He just kept talking, but all I was hearing was a little bird squawking in my ear. So I just, politely, asked him to leave me alone. He got the point after a bit, and just left.
But was that enough? Hell no!
Next came another guy who I don't know, other than he's friends with my friends, but he swears that we were together once before. He must have me mistaken for another sexy black man (after all, I hear that we all look alike) and I wish he'd stop staring at me from across the bar every time he sees me out around town. It's getting spooky - and old!
And after all this mess, the club is about a half-hour from closing, and my ex never showed. So I just decided to get my coat and go home. Of course, while waiting for my coat, I ran into a friend of mine. And he told me something amazing - or maybe I should say it was a bit of deja vu. He asked me what I was doing, and I told him I was going home; that I was supposed to meet my ex (who he knows as well) for a night of dancing, but he never showed up. I also told him that I really hope my ex was not hurt or anything because he was looking forward to dancing so much tonight.
Then my friend told me that my ex was tossing back drinks earlier that evening at the local gay watering hole - something I didn't want to hear. My friend asked me if I wanted to go with he and his buddies to get a drink somewhere. I declined, and I just hopped in the taxicab and went home.
I was thoroughly pissed. I woke up this morning, ready to go to boot camp and kick some ass. I got a text message from my ex, apologizing to me, saying he fell asleep and slept right through the dancing and meeting me. I just went to the gym, and while working out, I realized why I was so pissed. I realized that I wasn't upset because my ex never showed up; I was upset because no matter what the reason was that he didn't show up, I no longer trust him - or for that matter, I don't trust anyone or anything people say or do to me anymore.
It was sad for me, because I had to come to the acknowledgement that the trusting Eric who looked at the world through rose-colored glasses was no longer inside of me. And the word trusting, which always described me to a "T", could no longer be used as an adjective to describe me.
And I'm going to miss him. Because for the first time, I understand why I wanted to keep that Eric inside me - I wanted him with me because without him, I feel like I'm on my way to the world of cynicism.
And that's a place I never wanted to visit, and I knew I never wanted to live there.
So I'm leaving all these guys, all this drama, and all this chaos behind me.
Now maybe I can accomplish my goals - of rewritting my novel a bit to acknowledge my mother's life the way it should be acknowledged,  and getting the gay life in Asbury Park made into a reality show.
And maybe now I can get back to me.

What a long, strange trip it's been ... and it's time to return to normal

I haven't written a blog in over a month, and I've missed it.
I've been busy with a huge project at work, and it's just beginning the next phase. Boy, I'm tired!
The other reason it's been some time since my last blog entry is pretty selfish on my part, I hate to say. This past month, as I've been throwing myself into my work, it's been easier than thinking about being depressed about my mother's recent passing. It's been a difficult time, since my mother passed away. Especially over the holidays. The holidays is exactly what my mother loved - and she loved it to the hilt.
I've been doing a lot of crying behind closed doors. I haven't wanted to lean on my family and friends to help me get through the holidays, nor did I want them to feel sorry for me. I've been doing enough of that for everyone.
So I've tried to desperately keep them at bay by partying as much as I could. I don't think people are really in a position to see me cry, because most are used to hearing me laugh. Plus, I've discovered that it takes more energy to cry than laugh. And people have said that they love to hear my laugh. So I want to make others happy, right?
But I guess if I really want to get past all the sadness, I need to explore it. But I don't want to explore it. Because if I explore it, I'm just afraid that I'll just drown in the sadness. So I've been partying and working as much as I can. But I know - it's time to get over the sadness over my mother. And I may need some help with that.
But in the process of dealing with things, I am proud of myself for not falling into the arms of some random guy who just wanted to have their way with me. I've learned that lesson, and I'm happy that I didn't fall back into the "old Eric"!
But I think it's time to figure things out and make some definite headway in dealing with the grief that I know I haven't dealt with thus far.
Boy, self reflection is good for the soul I suppose.