Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Wasting Time....

I've put entirely too much time and energy into creating this blog today. Between the blog, the profile, etc...I've wasted about 4 hours. Way to go! Of course, I just realized it was four hours, so apparently, I was captivated. I call moments like these my OCD moments. I get started on a project and I just won't stop until it's done...and to my satisfaction. Being the tough boss that I am, sometimes it's time-consuming.
I woke up at 8AM. My head was still whirling with thoughts of the needless drama of the past couple of days. When my mind starts working that early, there's no point in trying to quiet it, so I took to the day at hand.
First, I started by texting with Dallas. That went back and forth like a ping pong ball until the information we were trying to convey called for an actual voice conversation. It's funny that in this day and age, unless it's horribly complicated or important, we rarely pick up the phone any more to make a call. We've all gone to texting and e-mailing instead of real human interaction. I can't decide if the technological simplification of the world is making us more efficient or more stupid. How can we come down on slang, ebonics, etc. in this country when we, ourselves, abbreviate everything through our writing? No wonder kids aren't strong spellers and our illiteracy rate is so high. Why spell it out when you can abbrievate? Why not watch a podcast instead of reading a book? Why not get on and watch a tutorial on a how-to instead of simply reading and following the directions?
Anyway.....excuse the tangent....
I called Dallas to talk. It was around 11AM her time and she had just woken up and was in the middle of her cereal. We chatted about a great number of things; gossip from here in Vegas, how her new life was going, how her man was treating her, etc etc etc. What should have been a 10 minute phone call ended up being a 2.5 hour long meeting of minds.
We talked about growing up mostly. Not as children, but now as adults. They say that they 30s are the new 20s. I certainly hope so. I feel like I grow up more every day. I'm not a huge fan of stability, obviously, but I do look forward to that point in life when I can stop questioning everything so furvently. So many unanswered queries about life, love, friendship, death, and happiness remain. I just pray that I live to have them answered. I understand that life is a mystery, I wouldn't take that away from it for anything, that's half the fun, but wouldn't it be nice to at least get the outline of the puzzle?
She did repeat a few things offhandedly that a non-friend had said about me in the past. Normally, I might have been mad or offended but hearing those words did seal the decision I made last night to further my distance from this person. I suppose that's the downfall you face when you befriend someone in Vegas. There's always the chance that their friendship is really that gold paint and neon lights and underneath, it's something really ugly. I suppose that's true of anywhere really, but Vegas is prone to the duplicitous, no surprise there. He was born and raised here, so I suppose it's fitting that he be one of the worst culprits.
The older I get, the less time I can stand to waste on ingenuine people. Authenticity is a big thing with me. Raised in the enviroment in which I was, I grew up with lies and fronts, and gossip and I really used to be able to play along when I was younger. However, I've lost all taste for the subterfuge and I'm much more rigid about letting it anywhere near me. I like drama on my television, not in my life.
My decision to distance myself from this person was not made in a single wrongful act, mind you. It was a slow accumulation of many things since I first arrived in town. I don't throw people out of my life on a whim. I've just seen too many glimpses of what hides behind his facade; to see what kind of person he really is. It's funny, now that I've taken all this time to consider it and plan my course of action, mutual friends come forward to tell of all that has happened when my back's been turned. Again, somehow not hurtful, but encouraging of my intuition.
Last night, some of us were discussing the meaning of friendship. I find it a bit sad that it's a topic that requires debate. We all agreed, however, that friendship shouldn't involve any drama. There should be no jealousies, no "popularity contests", no stabbed backs, or boyfriends stolen. It should just be about commaraderie and fun. We should all love eachother for who we are and not try to assimilate everyone, nor should there be any politics or chain of command. I don't even have a steady job and I'm still too busy to play these games. I really don't know how one would work full time, attend school part time, and still find the time to play World of Warcraft against his friends.
But...alas....I just take a deep breath and keep on truckin'. Ain't never gonna stop me. Ain't nothin gonna hold me down.
I should really get to the gym. It's much later than I had originally planned to go. I'll get there right around the busiest time of day at this point. I'm sure it will be twice as busy considering it's the first day coming out of a holiday weekend. Those who overindulged will be lined up for machines to work off their sins. Me included, I suppose.
It really was a wonderful weekend. The ending was a bit marred due to the drama but I suppose I should have forseen it coming, as the drama was officially back in town from LA. The highlight of the weekend, of course, being the Foam Party at Krave on Sunday night. I hadn't been to a Foam Party since I was barely of age and it happened to coincide with one of my favorite nights to go out; the night before Labor Day. Everyone of any importance came, save Michael who was visiting family back in Michigan.
It was slick, it was soapy, it was slippery and it was SCANDALOUS. I should have known it would be simply from the attire I had chosen. All I had on were flip-flops, a green Diesel tank, and a tiny pair of JM black square cuts. Right around the time a married friend of mine saw a horny little twink unabashedly cop a nice long feel on my package, I knew it was a night to go down in the history books. Laura and Brent were especially enthralled as it was their very first Foam Party and still so new to Vegas and its nightly debauchery. I haven't had that much fun since I was a kid. We danced so long, we closed the club down. Next thing I knew, I was driving by the Palms at 4AM, still soaking wet and sticky, and glanced in the rearview mirror. My blond mohawk clung in wet chunks across my head like a white, wet mop. The dark and glittery eyeliner I was wearing ran in trickles down my face. I looked like the lost member of The Joy Division. When I got home, I was still so wired that I didn't get to bed until nearly 7AM.
It's nights like these that bring me back to reality. I've already lived enough for a lifetime, so I have a hard time remembering that I'm only 26 and I still have plenty of wild nights and early mornings ahead of me.
Yesterday was mostly uneventful. I got up late (obviously), around 1, and did a few things around the house, ran to the market, made a giant fruit salad (one of the great advantages of living in the west this time of year. Awesome produce.), then got ready. I dropped Nathan at the airport for his business trip, then went to a couple's house out in Henderson for a cookout/pool party.
I hadn't been to the house before but I was impressed by the decorating and the eclectic taste of the home. The house actually ended up proving me wrong and Nathan right (he's been trying to convince me that we need to buy a place with a private pool.) The weather was absolutely divine, so it was quite comfortable outside.
I did have a brief yet comforting conversation with one of my friends, though. He's a recent inductee to this group of friends and I don't know him all that well but he does have a nice vibe about him. We got into the conversation about being married. As the only other gay, married male I've had any length of discussion with in a while, his views piqued my interest. It was really about how marriage is never perfect. One falls in and out of love with their spouse over and over like a broken record as the years go by. There are good times, there are bad times, and then there are the comatose "zombie" times. It's all about sticking with it and riding out the storms until the next happy time.
I think we were all programmed with those damnable fairy tales as a child. Somehow, instead of any idea of hope and romance, as intended, we got these unrealistic views about how love, romance, and marriage are supposed be. We were supposed to grow up, meet a nice guy/girl/whatev and fall madly in love and get married and live happily ever after. I suppose that's why they are fairy tales....they never tell you about what happens after the marriage...all the trials and tribulations that marriage can put you through....all of the compromises and sleepless nights...all of the responsibilities that come with taking on a lover as a constant companion to row through life with.
Yes, there have been hard times in my marriage. My mother once told me that the first 7 years are the hardest. Silly me! I'd always heard that the first year was supposed to be! Honestly, I don't see the hard times ever ending completely and that's alright..I'll stick around and weather it all. My husband and I were talking, just the other day, about those moments when we think of how ideal being single again would be. Then, we agreed that any further thinking into the subject ruled it out. It's those little things you think of....laughing as he attempts to help me make dinner......crawling into bed at night and drawing his body close for the warmth and comfort.....trying a new Thai place and discovering as he realizes a "10" is really a "10" and watching his eyes water.....the way he puts his hand on yours in the darkened movie theater.....or even the way that he agrees with you even when you may be wrong (wow, that totally explains my in-laws marriage). It's all those little things that get me from one day to another.
I put the top of my convertible down as I left their house. It really was the perfect night out. It was warm and breezy with perfectly clear sky. I could see stars even above the Vegas lights. I listened to Sheryl Crow tell me about how she "dropped acid on a saturday night" as I pulled into Freezone. Monday nights are karaoke nights there and it's been a long-standing tradition to attend.
I never used to sing these nights. I never wanted to. Maybe the living in Canada paralyzed my voice for a while. Sure, I still get a little nervous, especially since I never do the same song twice, but I've started getting up there several times a night when we've gone these past few months. I forgot how good singing feels. When it's right, it strips through all the bullshit and you feel all the sorrow and pain leave you with those lyrics. If only I could use my own lyrics, right? I desperately wanted to sing Bad Reputation by Joan Jett but alas, it was not on the menu. I settled for Maps by The Yeah Yeah Yeahs and Fast Car by Tracey Chapman. Fast Car always reminds me of my sister, we used to love that song as I was growing up.
It was a good night, despite the passive-agressive drama and the "Tale of Two Cities" atmosphere that occured between the seperation of the two tables. Jay-Z said it best, "Niggaz is crazy baby, don't forget that boy told you/Get, that, dirt off your shoulder"

Well, I'm off to the gym....and the crazy stalkers who post shit about me on crigslist, I suppose.