I'm sitting here in a huge house, drinking a bottle of wine, and watching the Golden Globes. So what if the house has 8 housemates total, and the wine is $2.99 a bottle on clearance from Kroger? I'm a classy bitch, and this is the way I roll.
Watching everything happening on the Red Carpet, I feel a sense of envy. I believe I'm supposed to be there with them, a soul, lost where I know I'm supposed to be found. The Pre-Show is airing, live, on E! I see how these nobodies are getting famous - nipping at the heels of stars and starlets and wanna-be stars. I want to be them. I want to be Kelly Osbourne, or Ryan Seacrest. Maybe I just want to bed Ryan. Yeah, that's probably it. Also, he is the shit. I mean, come on. He started as a contestant on a dating show, and now he owns Hollywood. I don't want a tenth of what he has. I just want a simple start on a simple TV show or movie. Maybe I can get there someday.
I am jealous of Ryan. He has an amazing Burberry suit on right now and looks absolutely gorgeous. You know he gets to take that home, right? He gets to keep his suit. All of these rich people, with money spewing out their asses, and designers give them clothes for free. I've got to work for 4 months straight to afford just the jacket. How am I not famous yet? I've got a great body that's perfect for modeling designer suits.
Maybe I can get my start on a show on E! But how do I begin? Do I have to major in something such as "Hollywood Etiquette," or "Famousness?" I know that's not a word, but hey, I'm American. Can the world ever be ready for a guy like me to be well-known? Like I always say, just give me a cigarette, a drink, and a microphone and let the magic happen. Can I just try once, in front of somebody famous?
So maybe, now that I'm going back to school finally, I can figure out my very own path to Hollywood. I'm not sure how I'm going to get there, but maybe inspiration will strike me soon. I haven't been so inspired lately, and I'm not sure I can remember how to get there. Well, I'll raise my glass of cheap wine and hope that I get a muse soon! Here's to 2014!
Sunday, January 12, 2014
Wednesday, May 1, 2013
The First 24 Hours of Hell...
I've been smoking cigarettes since I was 19 years old. So, for the past 7 years, I have been that cool hipster guy at parties who constantly excuses himself from throngs of people so that he can go smoke by himself or with other "cool guys with facial hair." And for 7 years, it's been a love/hate relationship with cigarettes.
When I was 19, I was just finishing up my freshman year of college, and it was finals week. I was so stressed out, so I went for a walk. Upon entering the outside world, a friend said I looked stressful and offered a cigarette. And I started a 7-year relationship with an item that could ultimately kill me. It was the best and longest relationship of my life.
I realized that, in the Navy, the only way you will be afforded a break from your job is if you smoke cigarettes. My first day on my first ship, I asked my boss if I could just go sit down for a few minutes, and was met with a resounding NO! I returned to my work and started complaining to my other shipmates (the lower the paygrade, the more we bitch about stupid shit). They suggested that I go and ask my boss if I can go smoke. So I did. And you know what he said to me? He said, "Yeah; do you mind if I bum one from you?" And that was when I fell in love with cigarettes again.
Now, I'm stopping. As of today, April 29th, 2013, I'm (trying) quitting. I hope it works. I stopped at 7 pm tonight. I'm currently 1 hour and 41 minutes into it, and I'm already craving a smoke BIG TIME. I can't get it off my mind. So, over the next 22 hours and 19 minutes, I'm going to document how horrible this is for me. Hope you enjoy.
2 Hours AQ (After Quitting): Just got done eating some delicious Taco Bell. Really, really, really wanting a cigarette right now. It's eating away at me. I can talk myself into just walking to the gas station right now to buy a pack. Would it really hurt anything at all? One more day of smoking wouldn't kill me. Unless, of course, I get hit by a car walking to the convenience store.
4 HAQ: Broke down and bought a Blu e-cigarette. It's kind of amazing. And also bought some wine. Feeling better.
10 HAQ: Decided to go on an Arrested Development kick, since new episodes are coming out on Netflix in May. The Blu e-cigarette is doing well. I'm kinda shaky, not having a real cigarette, but I'm dealing. I kinda wanna kick a baby down a football field, but I'll be fine. Luckily, no babies and no football fields, so no felonies!
23 HAQ: I'm shaking like an earthquake in California, but I'm not wanting an actual cigarette all the much. Oh fuck it, that's all I want is a freaking cigarette. It would make me feel amazing if I was dragging on a cig right now. But I can put this off. I'm almost at 24 hours. I bet this feeling will just magically disappear in approximately an hour. *fingers crossed*
24 HAQ: I'm done with cigarettes.
When I was 19, I was just finishing up my freshman year of college, and it was finals week. I was so stressed out, so I went for a walk. Upon entering the outside world, a friend said I looked stressful and offered a cigarette. And I started a 7-year relationship with an item that could ultimately kill me. It was the best and longest relationship of my life.
I realized that, in the Navy, the only way you will be afforded a break from your job is if you smoke cigarettes. My first day on my first ship, I asked my boss if I could just go sit down for a few minutes, and was met with a resounding NO! I returned to my work and started complaining to my other shipmates (the lower the paygrade, the more we bitch about stupid shit). They suggested that I go and ask my boss if I can go smoke. So I did. And you know what he said to me? He said, "Yeah; do you mind if I bum one from you?" And that was when I fell in love with cigarettes again.
Now, I'm stopping. As of today, April 29th, 2013, I'm (trying) quitting. I hope it works. I stopped at 7 pm tonight. I'm currently 1 hour and 41 minutes into it, and I'm already craving a smoke BIG TIME. I can't get it off my mind. So, over the next 22 hours and 19 minutes, I'm going to document how horrible this is for me. Hope you enjoy.
2 Hours AQ (After Quitting): Just got done eating some delicious Taco Bell. Really, really, really wanting a cigarette right now. It's eating away at me. I can talk myself into just walking to the gas station right now to buy a pack. Would it really hurt anything at all? One more day of smoking wouldn't kill me. Unless, of course, I get hit by a car walking to the convenience store.
4 HAQ: Broke down and bought a Blu e-cigarette. It's kind of amazing. And also bought some wine. Feeling better.
10 HAQ: Decided to go on an Arrested Development kick, since new episodes are coming out on Netflix in May. The Blu e-cigarette is doing well. I'm kinda shaky, not having a real cigarette, but I'm dealing. I kinda wanna kick a baby down a football field, but I'll be fine. Luckily, no babies and no football fields, so no felonies!
23 HAQ: I'm shaking like an earthquake in California, but I'm not wanting an actual cigarette all the much. Oh fuck it, that's all I want is a freaking cigarette. It would make me feel amazing if I was dragging on a cig right now. But I can put this off. I'm almost at 24 hours. I bet this feeling will just magically disappear in approximately an hour. *fingers crossed*
24 HAQ: I'm done with cigarettes.
Saturday, March 16, 2013
Starting Anew
I guess I should start out by mentioning that, if you have not read the title of this blog, you are already at a disadvantage. I will reiterate that I am a completely uninspiring human being. Not to be confused with not being inspired. On the contrary, I am a completely inspired guy. Hence, the writing. And the constant sulking, which I've somehow turned into an art form. Even Angel from Season 1 of Buffy the Vampire Slayer can't out-sulk me. If a university gave out degrees for sulking, I'd graduate with honors. I tend to stay indoors now, watching sappy gay-themed movies on Netflix and Hulu Plus. Yeah, that's how sad my life is - I subscribe to both streaming video services. I spend my week watching mostly sad, sometimes cheerful, gay movies, and end up crying during every one of them because I'm jealous of the love that characters share in these films.
My weekends are even sadder. I go to one of the three bars in town that I actually like: The Vid (a townie-central pub), The Atlas Bar (the "alternative" bar in town), or The Back Door (new gay bar, 1 of the 2 total gay bars). Oh, I should also mention that I live in Bloomington, IN. Yes, the home of Indiana University basketball. Many magazines and websites call Bloomington the "Gay Mecca" of Middle America. It's touted as being the 4th gayest city in America. So why the hell are there only two gay bars in such a "gay" city? And why is only one of them decent enough for me to frequent? The other one is filled with old trolls and drag queens who go there with their only hope of finding younger, dumber gay guys to hook up with. And I'm not cool with that. Anyway, to get back on topic, those are the only three bars I will go to in this small city. The sad part is, I mostly go alone. I don't know why I would keep doing this to myself, over and over again, every weekend. I go alone, get sloshed, make out with the occasional straight (sometimes gay) guy, and if I'm lucky enough, we're both drunk enough to go back to my place. Because I've never had sober sex. I can't remember having it at least, and I've been told so many times that if I can't remember it, it never happened. So what am I to do?
I yearn so much to be many things, but what I want most is a decent man to sleep with every night and wake up to the next morning. I don't even sleep in my own bed. I sleep on the couch every night because I don't like sleeping alone.
So I guess that's why I decided to start chronicling (did not know that was a word) my completely boring life. Maybe if I believe people are reading about it, there's a chance I'll remember to start living it. Because I don't want to be an uninspiring human being. I want to be inspiring to other guys out there like me who just want something...more...from life. I feel I am wasting a perfectly good existence here in Bumfucked (surprisingly, NOT a word), Indiana.
So, I had made the decision to move to L.A. with some friends I met while stationed in Washington State when I was in the Navy. And in a surprising move, less than a week later, my best friend that I've known for 13 years asked me to move to New York City with him next month. I was very torn. It's so hard to make life-altering decisions. The only time I had done that before was when I randomly joined the Navy. So I had to weigh my options. Option 1, L.A. with 2 of the most badass people I had ever met. Live in constant sunshine and a sea of endless shirtless men, glistening in the sun. Or Option 2, NYC with one of the most genuine men I've ever known. Taxis everywhere. A sea of lost souls all looking to find themselves...so obviously, I chose NYC. A sea of lost souls looking to find themselves? That's me in a nutshell.
I created this blog because I'm trying to remember the person I wanted to be when I was in high school. I had so many hopes for real life, that when I realized I couldn't make them happen, I gave up on everything. Everyone. The sad thing is that I subconsciously talked myself into believing that I could never be anything substantial. I'm 26 and still haven't graduated college. I have an IQ of 164, and I have somehow not finished college. So I'm going to be applying to CUNY when I move to NYC, so that I can study film. I want to be a screenwriter and a director. Once I'm a junior at CUNY, I'm hopefully transferring to UCLA because their film program is amazing. But first, I have to get to New York. And when I do, New York will not know what hit it.
My weekends are even sadder. I go to one of the three bars in town that I actually like: The Vid (a townie-central pub), The Atlas Bar (the "alternative" bar in town), or The Back Door (new gay bar, 1 of the 2 total gay bars). Oh, I should also mention that I live in Bloomington, IN. Yes, the home of Indiana University basketball. Many magazines and websites call Bloomington the "Gay Mecca" of Middle America. It's touted as being the 4th gayest city in America. So why the hell are there only two gay bars in such a "gay" city? And why is only one of them decent enough for me to frequent? The other one is filled with old trolls and drag queens who go there with their only hope of finding younger, dumber gay guys to hook up with. And I'm not cool with that. Anyway, to get back on topic, those are the only three bars I will go to in this small city. The sad part is, I mostly go alone. I don't know why I would keep doing this to myself, over and over again, every weekend. I go alone, get sloshed, make out with the occasional straight (sometimes gay) guy, and if I'm lucky enough, we're both drunk enough to go back to my place. Because I've never had sober sex. I can't remember having it at least, and I've been told so many times that if I can't remember it, it never happened. So what am I to do?
I yearn so much to be many things, but what I want most is a decent man to sleep with every night and wake up to the next morning. I don't even sleep in my own bed. I sleep on the couch every night because I don't like sleeping alone.
So I guess that's why I decided to start chronicling (did not know that was a word) my completely boring life. Maybe if I believe people are reading about it, there's a chance I'll remember to start living it. Because I don't want to be an uninspiring human being. I want to be inspiring to other guys out there like me who just want something...more...from life. I feel I am wasting a perfectly good existence here in Bumfucked (surprisingly, NOT a word), Indiana.
So, I had made the decision to move to L.A. with some friends I met while stationed in Washington State when I was in the Navy. And in a surprising move, less than a week later, my best friend that I've known for 13 years asked me to move to New York City with him next month. I was very torn. It's so hard to make life-altering decisions. The only time I had done that before was when I randomly joined the Navy. So I had to weigh my options. Option 1, L.A. with 2 of the most badass people I had ever met. Live in constant sunshine and a sea of endless shirtless men, glistening in the sun. Or Option 2, NYC with one of the most genuine men I've ever known. Taxis everywhere. A sea of lost souls all looking to find themselves...so obviously, I chose NYC. A sea of lost souls looking to find themselves? That's me in a nutshell.
I created this blog because I'm trying to remember the person I wanted to be when I was in high school. I had so many hopes for real life, that when I realized I couldn't make them happen, I gave up on everything. Everyone. The sad thing is that I subconsciously talked myself into believing that I could never be anything substantial. I'm 26 and still haven't graduated college. I have an IQ of 164, and I have somehow not finished college. So I'm going to be applying to CUNY when I move to NYC, so that I can study film. I want to be a screenwriter and a director. Once I'm a junior at CUNY, I'm hopefully transferring to UCLA because their film program is amazing. But first, I have to get to New York. And when I do, New York will not know what hit it.
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