About a boy and his Guy

Occasionally I'll browse around the About.com "Gay Life" forums.  They are full of questions from a lot of young guys confused about their sexuality, or anxious because they're in the closet.  One day I came upon a thread that told the story of a guy named Mike who lives in LA.  Apparently he always considered himself straight growing up.  He dated girls, slept with girls, and didn't really think much about guys.  That is, until he befriended a gay coworker at the bar he worked at.  He developed an attraction for this guy, who he refers to in his story as Guy.  The attraction ended up being mutual, and after a night during which Mike experienced his first time with a dude, the two became a couple.

The story is notable enough as is, but Mike's talent for writing enhances it considerably.  He has a remarkable ability to make you feel almost like you're a fly on the wall.  His forum posts read like a serialized short story.  He goes on to describe the development of his relationship with Guy, including their Thanksgiving get-together with friends and his visit to Guy's family's house for New Years.  The way he describes everyone, you almost feel like you know them.

Suffice it to say I was very entertained, and even touched, reading Mike's story (as many other people were).  I've corresponded a bit with Mike, and even in his emails his talent for storytelling comes through.

If you're interested, here's the link to the thread (caution: it's a long one).  http://forums.about.com/n/pfx/forum.aspx?tsn=1&nav=messages&webtag=ab-gaylife&tid=12160 

Video about gay parents

Interesting video, costarring Joe Bereta of one of my favorite YouTube comedy duos, Barats and Bereta.

Hollywood

This weekend was eventful.  Got hit on by an old dude at a West Hollywood gay bar and saw Tommy Lee at a Hollywood nightclub.

Whaa??

Good, I have your attention?  Okay let's back up.

Before the holidays, I received an email from a fellow blogger, El Genio, who lives in the LA area.  It was in response to a post I wrote back in December.  He offered to meet up in person to talk over lunch sometime.  I had met up with a blogger once previously (wow, I'm going crazy with the links here), so the idea of meeting up with someone else wasn't too scary (especially since I've opened up to a lot more people since then).  Last weekend we managed to meet up for lunch.  We had a good conversation, he's a really nice guy.  The major thing I was worried about actually was the size/crowdedness of the restaurant and how it would affect my willingness to discuss personal issues.  But once I got to talking I pretty much though "screw it" and had no problem.  After lunch we parted ways and I left feeling glad that I had taken him up on his offer to meet.

A couple days later I sent him an email suggesting that sometime I tag along with him and his friends when they went to West Hollywood.  Part of my mission to "get out there."  I figured I could meet him the next time I visited my cousin.  I gave my cousin a call to see what weekend would work, and he ended up inviting me to his work party that happened this weekend.  Before the party he had to work for a couple hours, which left me with some free time.  So, I contacted El Genio to see if he was available.  We ended up going to WeHo and having dinner with a friend of his, then they took me to one of their favorite bars.  It was rather early so there weren't very many people there.  I was just checking it out, but at least one older guy was checking me out.  At one point he walks over to me and starts kinda staring at me.  I give him a polite smile and turn back to El Genio's friend (EG was getting drinks at the bar).  Then I look back and the guy (probably a little drunk) says, "This bar smells."  Uhh . . . okay.  "Yeah, kinda does . . ." I say as El Genio returns to the rescue with the drinks.  The three of us step off to the side and the creeper walks off.  Not long after that I had to leave for my cousin's party (with a pit stop at his place since I forgot my license, oops), and EG was nice enough to give me a ride.  So, first gay bar experience where I actually got hit on (sort of . . . that dude needs to work on his pick up lines . . .)  A little awkward, but being among friends helped sooo much.  I didn't feel quite as self-conscious as I did in Chicago.

Then came my cousin's work party at a nightclub in Hollywood.  Tommy Lee was actually one of the DJs (apparently that is a recent pursuit of  his?)  He seemed to be getting really into it.  The music was so loud and bass-heavy that it kept pushing bottles and glasses toward the edge of the table.  Not really my cup of tea music-wise, but in the club setting it's alright.  We hung out with my cousin's colleagues for a while and then called it a night.

Other than my dabbling in the various types of Hollywood nightlife, I mostly hung out with my cousin this weekend.  We saw Mission Impossible 4 (quite good), and yesterday we went to my cousin's gym.  Lots of eye candy in a Hollywood gym, let me tell you.  I'm surprised I got anything done (though I did manage to work legs quite well, my calves were killing me today).  That was actually why I didn't have my license when I went to the bars . . . since I was a guest at the gym I had to give it to a staff member, and when he returned it I put it in the pocket of my gym shorts rather than my wallet.  Oops.  That's okay, I got a tour of the gym and the staff guy was quite attractive and really nice.  I was hoping to see some famous people (Mike Manning or Darren Criss maybe???) but no luck, haha.

Before I drove back to my place tonight I watched American Idol with my cousin, who is a huge fan of it.  I've never watched it much, although I do occasionally watch performances on YouTube.  The last guy on it tonight was a young guy named Phillip Phillips (yep) who's really good looking and has a pretty killer voice.  He sang "Superstition" and then grabbed his guitar to do a really cool rendition of "Thriller."  Earlier there was a brother-sister team that had auditioned last year, but only the sister was auditioning this year.  However, the judges remembered the brother favorably and pressured him into trying out again.  He was a looker with a great voice too, and both he and his sister got invited to Hollywood (even though he hadn't even been planning to audition, haha).  I almost want to watch this season to see how those two guys do.

So my weekend in a nutshell: checked out guys at the gym, went to a WeHo gay bar, went to a nightclub, watched a Tom Cruise movie, and watched American Idol.  LOL.  

Sports . . . meh

Facebook is aflame with status updates about the 49ers vs. Saints game.  Lakers vs. Clippers was on at the gym.  I imagine a number of my friends were watching one or the other.  As for me, I've never been interested in sports.  They never clicked with me, which sometimes made me feel isolated when around some of my more sports-enthusiastic friends.  There are a number of possible reasons why I never got into watching sports.  My dad was never a sports watcher, so I didn't grow up in a sports-watching household.  Also, I was never good at sports in school, and I was so self-conscious about my lack of ability and low self-confidence that P.E. became a dreaded part of the school day.  Maybe that disdain for playing sports translated into an apathy about watching them.  This was never really a big deal until high school, when my two best friends at school were big Lakers fans.  I tried to get into watching basketball so I could have more in common with them, especially when basketball games started to get in the way of other things ("Oh sorry B, can't go to the movies today, there's a game on.")  But I just couldn't get myself to care about the outcome.  I'll usually watch the Super Bowl if there's a party involved, but admittedly I'm usually more interested in the commercials and if it's a rock artist performing, the half-time show (I hated the Black Eye Peas performance, ugh).

I guess some might view my attitude toward sports as one of my "un-masculine" qualities, if you want to get into stereotypes.  I'm past the point of caring that I don't like sports, though.  It's really only an issue when I'm hanging out with sports-loving friends, who get into conversations that sound completely Greek to me.  Watching sports seems so time-consuming though, so I'm kind of glad I don't have that on my plate.

Yes, and . . .

I love improv.  I first discovered it on "Whose Line is it Anyway?" back in high school, but other than making my cousins play improv games with me a couple times I never really viewed it as a thing to seriously (or even casually) pursue myself.  What can I say, I had some self-confidence issues through high school and college.  Now I'm finding my confidence building and have become a lot more open to trying new things and putting myself out of my comfort zone.  To foster this further, I have now signed up for my second improv acting class.  I took the first one last spring and had an absolute blast.  I was still in the middle of my . . . "rough period", so the night I had class became the bright spot of the week.  At the end of the first class session I was feeling downright euphoric, I'd had so much fun.  It was basically 8 weeks of Whose Line is it Anyway games, and I thought my level of confidence and my ability compared favorably to the other students.  There was even a guy in the class that I thought was really cute (not really a word I favor to describe guys very often, but he was).  I always enjoyed doing scenes with him, especially the long form improv where we played brothers in a soap opera (I was killed off by the end, haha).

So tonight was my first class of the new session.  It's still the beginning one, but it's a different teacher and is starting off with more students (the last one tapered down from 10 to 4 by the last day, so hopefully these people will stick around).  Fairly light on the eye candy.  There's one extremely tall (I think he said 6'9"??) frat-boy looking guy who's pretty hot, and a young looking female law student who's quite cute.  It's a good mix of young people in their 20s and people in their 40s, 50s and even 60s.  The teacher's style is way different from the last class.  The last teacher was very laid back, whereas this guy is much more of a put you on the spot kind of guy.  The emphasis tonight was not on theater games but rather on some high-pressure warm up activities (most of which involved thinking of words quickly).  So, it might not be quite as straight-up fun as the last one, but I think it will be very helpful in getting me out of my head and getting me to cut down on second-guessing myself and worrying about what others think of me.

There was one awkward moment.  This teacher is fond of making fun of you when you screw up or say something weird.  Not in a mean way, though, so it doesn't bother me too much (but it REALLY would have when I was little and more sensitive).  The activity was just a getting-to-know-everyone icebreaker where each of us took turns talking about ourselves.  He asked pretty much everyone about their relationship status, very curious about who was married, divorced, dating, single, etc.  When I told him I was single that wasn't enough.  He started to make a big thing of it, asking me why.  "Don't you date?"  I couldn't very well fall back on the old "I'm focusing on academics" answer, since . . . well, I've been out of college for almost 5 years now (holy crap).  So I just kind of laughed and tried to change the subject.  Then he called me out on changing the subject.  Argh.  I know he had no way of knowing what a sore spot that is for me, so I don't really blame him.  I just wish I could have handled it better instead of making it so obvious that he had struck a nerve.  Oh well, I'm looking forward to the rest of the class, it'll be interesting to see how it goes.  Hopefully I'll get better at playing it cool.

Oh, and the title of this entry is in reference to a thing they commonly teach you in improv.  When you're doing a scene with someone, you always want to respond to a colleague's suggestions with a "Yes, and . . ." attitude.  If you deny anything they try to add to the scene ("No, I'm not a life guard, I'm a police officer!) then you will kill the flow and make things awkward.

Helping Hands

One thing I have noticed from browsing around the blogosphere and chatting with people is the stigma that is attached to talking to a psychologist.  I suppose that's not surprising . . . when mental health professionals show up in pop culture they are usually either dealing with crazy people or they're crazy themselves.  Especially if they're from Gotham City.

EEK!

That's better . . . still crazy though.

There's also the emphasis that our culture puts on self-sufficiency.  Just like the stereotypical man who refuses to pull over to the side of the road to ask for directions, many people hate to admit when there's a problem that they can't quite solve themselves.  They think it makes them look weak.  Personally, I think this tendency is foolish and tragic.  You wouldn't think any less of a person with a sports injury if they saw a physical therapist, an expert in anatomy and physiology, would you?  If you had a toothache, you wouldn't think twice about seeing a dentist, a specialist of all things oral (don't go there).  So if you have some psychological troubles that are adversely affecting your life, why should it be so hard to go see a psychologist?  I look at therapy as just another possible tool that one can use to improve one's life, if needed.  Of course, since it costs money, other things should be considered first, such as consulting with friends and family, or keeping a journal (or blog).  But sometimes one can really benefit from the perspective of someone who helps people with their problems for a living.

I've been pretty open on this blog about how I've seen a psychologist.  After the first one I saw felt she didn't quite have the expertise I was looking for, she referred me to the one I'm seeing now.  I really like her.  We have similar personalities, so she can relate a lot to some of the things I talk about.  There are several things she does that I think are especially helpful:

1. She points out irrational or negative thinking patterns I have, or statements I make.
2. She congratulates me when she feels I've done something significant (helpful since my modesty keeps me from giving myself much credit).
3. She helps me to admit and come to terms with things that I might not have been able to do quite so easily otherwise.

These things demonstrate how an outside perspective can help us come to solutions that are normally not very accessible to us, since we are living within our own minds and seeing the world only through our own perspective.

I'm going to digress now and talk about a particular revelation that the therapist helped me to make recently.
One day I was describing to her a past friendship that I felt very strongly about.  This guy was my best friend, I wanted to be around him all the time, and I envisioned us being best friends for many years.  My feelings for this guy were actually one of the early things that got me questioning my sexuality.  Earlier this year, I had briefly mentioned these feelings to my friend "Janice" when I came out (?) to her.  She jokingly asked if I had been in love with him.  I adamantly denied it.  But recently, while talking to the therapist, I returned to the subject.  I mentioned how I wished I could have a friendship now like that one, one that I felt so strongly about.  The therapist suggested that what I was talking about sounded like love.  That got me thinking about it some more.

When I think back on that friendship in this new context, some things do seem to make some sense to me.  I did think he was attractive, though not being particularly sexually inclined at the time, I don't remember really fantasizing or anything.  But being around him made me happy.  Talking to him on the phone was exciting.  Hearing about his best friend back home made me jealous.  The time he almost ended up moving away was a time of mental turmoil.  I remember the time he spent the night at my parents' house, and the next day I took him to my favorite yogurt place.  I remember the video games we played, the TV shows we watched, the concerts we attended.  Could these feelings be explained by me simply being glad to have a best friend?  Sure, and that's how I interpreted at the time.  But the intensity of my feelings makes me wonder whether Janice and the therapist might be onto something.

After he left, I obsessed about our faded friendship for a long time.  I couldn't stand not having closure, not knowing why he wouldn't contact me.  Was it something I did? (it ended up having more to do with his own issues, such as depression).  In any case, as I've mentioned before on the blog, I finally reached him after 3 years of no contact, and we resumed being friends, only this time over a longer distance.  At this time, however, the dynamic is much different.  The rosy, idealized vision of him that I used to have is gone.  Without going into too much detail, I'll say that he has since proven that he can be quite the self-centered, unreliable flake.  I don't like feeling resentful towards friends though, so I hope to give him a call soon and maybe pay him a visit.

That was long-winded and quite personal, but I suppose that's what the purpose of this blog is, after all.  Just another tool in the toolbox.

3rd ROCK from the Sun

I just discovered all sorts of covers by Joseph Gordon Levitt on YouTube.  AWESOME!  Here's a duet between him and Zooey Deschanel (who is also awesome).  

Here's his cover of "Lithium" by Nirvana.