Absence... it makes the heart grow fonder

And, so it is, that absence is making my heart grow fonder. In all reason, I am in the idealization phase of this, whatever it is. Although there are imperfections which have been duly noted, the ideal is so much greater.

R.G. is still on vacation, although he has thoughtfully e-mailed every evening with tidbits of his activities. It is uplifting to know that you are in the object of your desire's thoughts.

In contemplation of R.G.'s return, I have ordered a delivery of a floral arrangement for him, which will be waiting in his apartment when he walks in. I hope he doesn't find that too excessive, but I wanted to do something to welcome him back home. I also included a handwritten note.

Can't wait to see him on January 3, 2006.

It is going to be a New Year for sure (for me).

A.B.

Whirlwind Romance II

Things with R.G. have gone spectacularly well, so much so, that I have that pleasant sense of unease that the more we get to know each other, the more I want to know and the more enthralled I am as I do.

R.G. has turned out to be much like me: we share the same sense of generosity, the same commitment to the important people in our respective lives -- whether family or friends, sense of humor and mutual respect.

I have known R.G. now for about a month. In that time, I have been away for a week in London. During that week, every moment was spent with R.G. on my mind and invading my thoughts. With no doubt, I felt very nostalgic and out of place roaming the streets of London without him. On the return flight I felt this, that the trip would have been so much better had he been there with me, he and I exploring a city together.

Prior to departing to London, I had shopped for R.G.'s Christmas presents. I had felt an immense desire to get him fabulous gifts that showed how much I cherish him. I went on the lavish side and bought him some very thoughtful gifts, reminiscent of conversations or things he had mentioned he liked. When I presented R.G. with his gifts, he decided to put them under this Christmas tree and wait until my return so that we could open our gifts together.

That happened last night. I cannot say how elated I was to see that R.G. had put in very much thought and time into getting me presents. Granted, the purpose wasn't that he should spend money on me, but the fact that he went out of his way to buy me gifts that were well thought out and evocative blew me away. He knew I liked halls mentholyptus, so he got me two packs and wrapped them so nicely; he also purchased some chocolate powder from the shop where we had our first encounter. R.G. made me feel yesterday like the only guy on Earth and not only that, but, well, loved. Neither has used the "L" word yet, but the reality is, I felt loved and, slightly overwhelmed by his graciousness.

R.G. leaves today on his vacation and I can't help feel like I am going to feel a sense of loss. R.G. will be back, of this I am sure and he will have the same feelings for me as he did yesterday. But, the lack of proximity is heartfelt. It is a bittersweet but, at the same time glorious, sensation for I know that I care for him.

As I dwell on the past persons I have seen, dated, hung out with or whatever each of them called it, and then compare to this marvelous man I am now seeing, I come upon the realization that there is an enormous difference between aspiring to make things work with someone and for things to naturally, almost seamlessly, occur. With R.G., there is no "work" involved, there is only a strong and pressing desire and impulsive curiosity that knows no bounds.

Can this be "L"?

A.B.

A Whirlwind Romance?

It may sound trite, but once you give up on something that for time has caused you solace, it seems that at that precise moment your life changes or begins to change.

I have tried various internet sites for dating (not the hook-up type), such as Match.Com. I had finally decided to become a paying member a couple of months ago hoping to meet quality, dateable men. Well, I had several encounters and met a significant amount of men for a cup of coffee or tea. The proverbial "cup of coffee" to gage whether a guy had any potential. Some I met that seemed to be really nice guys but no spark of romantic interest ensued. This is not to say that I wouldn't mind having these guys in my life as friends, but not the type that I saw fitting into my life in the romantic quadrant.

Over a week ago, I decided to cancel my subscription at the end of its run, December 11. I e-mailed the couple of guys that had e-mailed me or winked at me prior to then. I ended up sending an e-mail to one guy that intrigued me and we set up a coffee date for Sunday at 8. Pretty innocuous one would think, it being a Sunday evening coffee date. We met at a place of his suggestion which turned out to be closed so we went around the corner for a cup of hot chocolate on a cold Sunday night at the Chocolate Shop.

Thereafter followed a pleasant evening, with bits of candor and genuine old fashioned conversation. We were forced to leave around 9.15 when the shop was closing and R.G. asked me to his place for tea. I dubitated only because I thought, 'oh no, this is going to turn into one of those sort of dates' where the quick interest is more related to the physical dimension. I hesitated and accepted, trying to force myself not to jump to conclusions.

We strolled leisurely to his apartment and had a cup of tea, and only a cup of tea. Later that evening, as I walked home I was impressed, and glad, that not only was R.G. a very attractive man, he was apparently not looking for a quick hook-up. I was pleased.

At R.G.'s apartment, he prepared a nice green jasmine tea and we sat down, carrying on with our conversation. He hails from the midwest, came out of a relationship a little over two years ago, hasn't had much success in dating and is interested in finding someone. He also has a playful 2 year-old dog. Our evening came to an end on the corner of Horatio and Greenwich as we gave each other a peck on the lips and parted ways. I was slightly giddy as I walked away and hopeful. I hadn't felt that since M.I.

Since then, we have gone out several more times and he has called me midday during work to come by and have a cup of coffee in the middle of the afternoon. Not only has that been delightful, it has been inspiring. I asked him out to an event, and he accompanied me. My friends met him and thoroughly were impressed. He is gallant. We had a date two days later, interspersed with a coffee date in the midafternoon the day prior, at a sushi place. He liked the restaurant and once again, we had a marvelous conversation.

Friday, we had each already had prior engagements and didn't see each other. But Saturday and Sunday made up for that, with Saturday being a shopping day together and lunch at Cafeteria, followed by a two hour break. That evening he accompanied me to a party in the Village where he met many of my friends. On Sunday, he invited me to brunch at his friends' place. His friends, a young married couple, were wonderful and it felt very natural to be in their company. After brunch, we did a quick stop at Bloomingdale's because R.G. fell in love with a jacket his friend had purchased the day before and after that, we each went home to rest as we were both going, but separately, to the Toys for Tots event at Chelsea Piers.

We did bump into each other at Toys for Tots and then went to his place to order in some pizza. We had dinner, watched some TV and talked. I went home that evening incredibly happy to have met someone decent, stable, professional, handsome and funny. Things seem to be progressing well, but nothing beats the fact that I'm thrilled again, with life and dating. It certainly was about time.

A.B.

My hiatus

I've been bad. I have let work take over my life. Though it isn't fully within my control, I should try to strike a healthy balance.

Unfortunately, it has been quite bad, with vacation requests being declined for the holidays and being subject to demanding clients with no respect for one's time. Weekends on end have been spent on conference calls and working, absolutely insane.

Anyhow, Thanksgiving was nice because even clients find time to leave lawyers alone, thank God. Had a great day and finished it off by watching "Rent", which I fully endorse, don't miss it.

Happy Thanksgiving to all!

A.B.

Do I have that effect on people?

Remember him? Shortly after it became apparent that my two or three phone calls to him were not going to be answered, he deleted his profile from connexion. I haven't heard from him, I don't think I will, but I wonder, is the effect I have on people to just make them run?

Being bicultural can be a curse, I feel that people just totally and completely misread me. Directness seems to be a germ that gay men run from.

A.B.

Fall arrived...

I knew fall had arrived the day I needed to pull out one of my sweaters to stop the shivering. It was not freezing, nor was it very cold. It had cooled and the coolness had touched me deep inside. Fall had arrived.

Traditionally, the fall has signified for me a time of reflection and contemplation, as the days grow shorter and the night embracing.

I have been pondering something that happened recently given the enormous amounts of time I have spent alone. I bumped into M.I. (see this, this, this and that) at a bar of ill-repute (you know, one of those bars I usually don't go to and have been to perhaps 2 or 3 times in my 4 years in New York). I had honestly gone with a friend that recently moved to New York as a joke, to go to a raunchy place. Well, apparently my concept of ill-repute is either ill-defined or ill-repute is in. I bumped into several acquaintances and M.I. My friend ended up leaving with one of such acquaintances.

M.I. tried to make visual contact at least three times until I acknowledged him. I feigned inability to see him given the darkness. On the fourth try, I fixed my face with a puzzled, almost quixotic, look and he approached. I said hello and introduced my friend; he began a conversation.

In a situation like this, the conversation was almost pre-fabricated, including the 'how are you', 'how have you been', 'how is work', 'work sucks' (him), 'my life sucks' (him), 'don't want to go into it' (him), 'been meaning to call you' (him). "I have been meaning to call you" ? ? ? Why, why, oh why? Such a tainted lie. Whenever I tell someone that I have been meaning to call them, 9 times out of 10 it means I had not been meaning to call you but since I am in front of you and I can see you and you can see me, I will tell you I have been meaning to call you. Plain stupid. That is what I call a game (be it with friends, romantic interests or acquaintances).

Anyhow, he did say that it was a coincidence that we had bumped into each other at this place. Mind you, I do not believe in coincidences, neither in this specific case, nor in any other. I needed to, and cosmically or karmically (however you wish to look at it), I was meant to see him then and there.

Shortly afterwards, M.I. grabbed my hand and pecked me on the lips at least on three different occasions. Perhaps he thought that because we were in a place of ill-repute I had somehow lowered my expectations or was just plain horny for him? I didn't respond, and am sure that my stiff unwavering lips were demonstration enough of my disdain for his intentions (actual or imagined). He parted thereafter and I didn't see him again for the remainder of the evening. He must have left with someone.

So, I ask myself, why did this happen and what am I to do. I know that in any event I won't be contacting M.I., I already promised that to myself. I feel like calling him on this and telling him that he is just terrible in thinking he can toy with a person whenever he feels the need to feel accomplished or desired. It is selfish, it is mean and, above all, hurtful.

It isn't M.I. (I think), it is what he represents and what he is not to me. He is not the person in my life and yet he is a presence. I was attracted to him and genuinely thought he and I could forge something; that has not been the case. He is the player; I feel like the toy.

A.B.

Ain't that the truth

The following article entitled "Poll: Americans becoming ruder in hurry-up world" was published on Friday, October 14, 2005 and Posted at 3:10 p.m. EDT (19:10 GMT) on CNN.com, and isn't it the truth. (I would post the article itself here, but due to copyright/copywrong, I am unable to do so). Perhaps in the microcosm of New York City, the veracity of this article is heightened. Urbania has eaten away at our considerations of appropriate behavior (both in public and in the home), and it is depressing.

People speaking loudly on their cellphones in the most inappropriate of places (the elevator, a coffee shop, a store) and forcing innocent bystanders to partake in their banal conversations; individuals incapable of saying 'thank you' and 'excuse me' left and right; rude women devoid of femininity; men lacking basic gentlemanly skills. It is all appalling, but what is perhaps even more atrocious is the fact that nobody notices anymore, everybody just seems to accept this etiquette-vacuum with no remorse.

Politeness and civility require effort and conscientious devotion. I think it would be a better city if people dedicated some portion of their gray matter to them.

A.B.

Mrs. Dalloway said she would buy the flowers herself

I have invited two couples, friends of mine, to dinner in a couple of weeks. I will be cooking a meal and look forward to doing so with slight anxiety. The task of pleasing guests is foreboding to me because I believe that part of the art of entertaining is seamlessness and a feeling of ease throughout the experience. A lot of effort is required to orchestrate seamlessness and ease in an inviting and pleasurable environment. And that is the root of my slight anxiety.

Cooking itself is a therapeutic activity. I usually start off my day by going shopping to get all my ingredients fresh. About 5 hours prior to arrival, I begin preparations by opening a bottle of wine and starting the cooking. The wine really helps to relax and enjoy the cooking. Plus, my dog is always there to accompany (and catch anything that might inadvertently fall to within his reach).

I am thrilled at the prospect of having a delightful evening at home with close friendsand am looking forward to having my friends over. H.P. is invited with his partner and L.M. with his partner. This is the first time I am cooking a meal for them. It will be a Mexican feast.

I've decided to make my purchases at what I now call the Museum of Food: WholeFoodsTM. That alone is quite a trip/tour and I hope not to get too distracted looking at all the shiny things. I have scoped out fresh tortillas in the city (made of white corn and of blue corn) and will be making some real quesdillas and guacamole. Dinner will be refried beans (bayos), arroz a la mexicana and some mole poblano (inappropriately referred to as the "chocolate sauce") over chicken. Mole is more than a chocolate sauce. It is a complex and rich admixture of native (to Mexico) ingredients laboriously combined to render a velvety sauce with hints of peanut and sesame, chocolate and banana, and chiles, all paired with juicy chicken (or turkey). I can't wait to share this with them. And, of course, a bottle of my Vouvray to start, followed by some Monte Xanic Merlot or Merlot/Cabernet Sauvignon mix from Mexico.

I think that what I like most about having friends over is that I have an opportunity to share a part of my history, my culture and gastronomical background and, at the same time, enjoy their wonderful company. I wish I were able to entertain more frequently as an enriching and gratifying time is always had.

In a very dallowayesque manner, I have selected the flowers I will be purchasing the day of the dinner; White Lilies instead of the traditional Mexican Calla Lilly. They are beautifully white and elegant.

A.B.

A Quote from a Quote and a Line from a Book I am reading

I didn't want to forget to write about this. I am reading this book, a fascinating book on the founding fathers and the relationships among them. It is a more personable look at the era and their, at times radical, differences.

The factual and historical aside, the book is insightful with respect to the quotes of personal correspondence and the beauty of the English language when properly used to express. In the chapter on "The Collaborators" where the author describes the Adams-Jefferson relationship and what brings about their "great collaboration" and then their ensuing "collaboration" following certain differences, the author makes reference to several communiqués between John Adams and his wife, Abigail Adams.

One of those letters is a discussion between John and Abigail regarding his probabilities of becoming the President of the United States and whether she would move to the seat of government or remain in Philadelphia. She responds ultimately along the lines that she will go wherever providence dictates as follows: "My Ambition leads me not to be first in Rome" but to "reign in the heart of my husband. That is my throne and there I aspire to be absolute."

I want to write like that. More importantly, I would like to reign in the heart of that special someone and have him reign in mine.

A.B.

Scheduling versus Spontaneity

This has been one of those calmer weekends where plans for better or for worse fell through and those that were not made in advance turned out to be splendid. I wonder at times whether I should force tradition and schedule out much á la New York way -- planning out for weeks in advance. I am much more married to the notion that spontaneity brings more pleasure and ultimately makes activities much more enjoyable. But, given my spontaneity, or desire therefor, this weekend was not as active as may have possibly have been had I planned ahead of time.

Friday I stayed home and finally forced myself out to a bar. I had been waiting for the call that had been promised to me via e-mail on Friday morning from this guy. That call never came and I was disappointed. Serves me right though for putting stock in others. I don't get guys like that.

In any event, Saturday was much the same. I called friends and, of course, they all already had plans (made weeks in advance) to do this or that. I went shopping on Saturday. I needed a dishdrainer from Williams & Sonoma and ended up buying a nice pair of To Boot Adam Derrick shoes which made my day. My sourpuss mood dissipated instantaneously both at the bargain the shoes were and how great the looked (on me!). I felt so much like Carrie Bradshaw from Sex and the City with a pair of Manolos. I was in heaven. I bought some other things at Bed Bath & Beyond (so many gay people there, unfortunately, all partnered or what seemed like partnered) and then decided to sit down at the 24 Diner and have a late lunch. I pulled out my book and ordered. There was something nice about sitting down on my own and having lunch: I observed passersby and also had a chance to ponder things over about my life, job, etc. It was good.

I also went and saw a movie, which brought another smile to my face, Wallace & Gromit The Curse of the Were-Rabbit which is a riot of a playmation movie. If you aren't familiar with Wallace & Gromit, get thee to a DVD store and buy the first three movies. They are sweet and innocent but, at the same time, quirky and piquant. I laughed endlessly and the man in front of me guffawed purposely showing how un-entertaining my movie was. I wanted to slap him silly. Interestingly enough, his friends were enjoying the movie as well.

Today Sunday, my dog needed a bath, so I arranged for a visit to the groomer. In the meantime, I had brunch with my friend C.C., her dad and our friend T.H. and then went window shopping in the Meat Packing District. BTW, brunch at One Little West 12th is quite nice and decently priced.

Now, I am home, ready to rest from what feels like an oddly tiring weekend in which I didn't really do much and preparing to go out to XES to watch Desperate Housewives.

Ah, the simple things in life. Maybe being spontaneous is better. I am exhausted!

A.B.

Meeting guys online, I think I need to rethink that

I have profiles on several websites, so many I now feel, that I may have become an internet-profile-whore. Perhaps people will see my friendster profile, my connexion profile or my gay.com profile and think I am desperate or something? I certainly hope not! Yeah, it would be nice to meet a guy that would have the ability to make you feel giddy and nice and all, but, the reality is those sites also serve a social purpose: making friends or sharing interests.

In any event, about a week ago, I read a profile on one of these sites. The guy, aside from seeming very handsome from his pictures, shared an uncommon amount of similarities with me, among them:

1. Interest in travel, reading, film, fine wine and cooking and dining;
2. Likes Lost, Alias, Desperate Housewives, etc.;
3. Movies that include several of my own, including Woody Allen and Pedro Almodóvar;
4. Southern guy originally;
5. Enjoys a nice night at home.

That is a very succinct bulletpoint summary of the profile. His interest and knowledge of wine for having been involved in a wine publication truly called my attention and made me want to contact him more than anything.

I e-mailed him the following:

I read your profile... And smiled. I could say we have a lot in common, but that would be trite. Oops. Your interest in fine wine and dining, and life at [Magazine Name] caught my attention pretty quickly. I didn't go to the [School Name] course, but took the Kevin Zraly Windows on the World Wine School course (it is about 8 weeks, in 8 2-hour installments) and had a spectacular time learning about wine. I actually met this incredible girl there who has since become a dear friend. I like the communal aspect of wine, the sharing, not the snobbery. [...] I consider myself a well-rounded guy with varied interests. I think that underneath it all is a desire to explore new things and be challenged. I equally enjoy, but for different reasons, going to an exhibit or seeing a Hollywood movie [...]; a burger or a four-course meal. Makes life a lot more fun that way. Have you been to Craft Restaurant? It is one of my favorites so far. Do you have a favorite restaurant in town? Well, as I said, I liked your profile and wanted to drop you a line. If after you've had a chance to view mine you feel inclined to initiate a conversation, please do. I look forward to it. Hope you have a great day, [Name].

So, after that, we have had the proverbial e-mailing back and forth with bouts of cuteness and flirtation (me thinks), but ultimately, not too much follow through. I asked for his phone number five days after the first e-mail and he sent it on over. Today I called and, as in prior experiences, got voicemail. Voicemail can be such a hideous thing when you actually want to talk to someone. As lawyers say, it can be both a sword or a shield. So, unfortunately, I left a message and didn't get a call back. What is the appropriate amount of time to wait before calling back or should I simply wait for him to call back?

Maybe I need to take a step back and go the old fashioned way and not "force" meeting people through the internet because it detracts from the magic and the spontaneity of meeting in the real world. Something to ponder I guess.

A.B.

Internet Merchants are Amazing

That Vouvray arrived in less than 24 hours on my doorstep. I was excited and full of anticipation as I opened my box with the three bottles of:

Domaine de la Haute Borne 2002 Vouvray. Now, I just can't wait to find someone to open a bottle with and enjoy!

A.B.

Daniel (no, that's not the name of a guy I'm dating)

Saturday was a nice escape from the rapidity of life in the city. I went on a date with a guy from out of town, German to be exact, to what, prior to then, I had considered to be the epitomy of pomp and arrogance in restaurant dining in New York: Daniel. Please do not get me wrong, I am not against pomp and arrogance in restaurant dining, it is just that Daniel had seemed too white-glove for me to fathom with any regularity and the occasion had not arisen for me to dine there.

I went into the date, and the restaurant, with not many expectations. With respect to the date, the reality is that he lives in Germany, I live in New York. It will not progress, I know myself.

With respect to Daniel, I was not expecting much based on a prior experience at another famed, albeit newer, Gotham venue: Per Se. Per Se having been a disappointment (Per Se was not bad, it was actually, delicious, it just failed to rise above great and become spectacular and scintillating), I was weary that Daniel too might fall short of amazing and be just a great restaurant. I am happy to report, I was wrong. The meal was a mindfully orchestrated gala, paired (almost) to perfection with an array of wines spanning French whites and California reds. The only wine that was off, to my tasting, was a German red. Germany and red wines do not, in my experience, make a workable marriage.

In addition to the waiter flirting with me quite overtly (and then admitting, "I am more of a BBQ man myself, from New Jersey", forthwith nullifying any attractiveness he may have had due to his sophistication and knowledge of food and wines), my present company attentively hinging on my every word and providing me with engaging and intelligent conversation, I had a feast.

We started off with a masterful (and all this comes from the menu) Duo of Peeky Toe Crab"En Gelée" with Fennel and Cumin-Carrot Foam. That "foam" was heavenly, a true foam and not a gelatinized concoction, it was wispy, light and evanescent in the mouth. That was followed by Paupiette of Black Sea Bass in a Crisp Potato Shell with Tender Leeks and a Syrah Sauce which we were informed was the Daniel signature dish. It lived up to its name as such by all means. The Syrah sauce had the consistency of fine balsamic and the fruit of the Syrah. In combination with the bass and the potato shell, this alone, would have been more than enough. But, of course, I could not, would not, let it get in the way of what was to come. The Duo of Dry-Aged Beef: Braised Short Ribs in Red Wine with Caulfilower Gratin and Seared Rib Eye with Paprika "Pommes Duchesse"and Chanterelles was exploding with flavor, with the tender short rib coming apart at the first touch.

Dessert was not part of the tasting menu we had requested, but from the regular dessert menu. While ordering, the waiter had winked at me and said that for dessert, he would allow us to choose from the regular dessert menu. Both flattered and anticipating the dessert wonders I may experience, I smiled back.

I ordered the Warm Fig Tart with Vietnamese Cinnamon Crème Fraîche Ice Cream and Fig Jam. Wow! That's all I can say.

Above all, Daniel has an old-school feel but a sophistication and glamor that will surely have me back for seconds.

In addition, our dinner was paired with selections by the house of wines. One wine in particular has caught my fancy, a Vouvray from Domaine de la Haute Borne Tendre 2002, which was a symphony to the palate. I have liked it so much that this morning, while searching for that fabulous wine, I came upon and have subsequently become a member of WineFetch.com, a fabulous site to track your wines with internet merchants, notes about your experiences with particular wines and also a wineblog, how cool is that? I also have placed an order for my Vouvray and hope to be sipping it calmly at home shortly in the company of good friends.

As for the German, he went home on Sunday and e-mailed me upon arrival to say he had made it home safely. It is certainly a shame that two nice people who may be attracted to each other must succumb to the realities of distance. He will, however, be back in two weeks and I hope we will have the opportunity to share another evening like Saturday's. Any recommendations out there?

A.B.

Untitled

Today was supposed to be an interesting day. Work was going to be manageable, yesterday had been nice and today I had plans to go to see Fiddler on the Roof on Broadway.

I haven't seen and know little, very little, about the show. All I know is that it's about a father trying to preserve his family's customs and he's jewish. So, today was going to be a culturally enlightening day, because I would learn about a broadway classic and I was going to get in touch with my inner gay, you know the one: that one that knows every single show tune by heart, composer, first date of performance and performer?

Alas, another opportunity lost. Work inevitably got in the way. Oy vey.

A.B.

Politeness is benevolence in small things

Another M.I. anecdote for the blogger annals. So this time, M.I. actually calls me, out of the blue on a Sunday afternoon. My first gut reaction was that it was a booty call. I was angry at myself for thinking that so casually.

Our conversation lasted about 10 minutes with the routine "how have you been", "how's work", etc. He concluded the call with a suggestion to get together for a drink during the course of the following week.

I made the mistake of calling him a couple of days later to follow-up. I thought, why not give him the benefit of the doubt, perhaps he is genuinely interested in getting to know me (on whichever basis that may be). Of course, I got his voicemail again and left a succinct message.

Since that Sunday call, I haven't heard from M.I.

I have been in situations before where I would much prefer to allow someone's messages to go unanswered, eschew them in hopes a need to address them never arises. I think I have realized that my conduct can be hurtful too and try (I said try) to avoid it. So, as a general rule, I try to respond to voice mail, text messages and e-mails promptly. Even if I would prefer to evade my overwhelming obligation to be polite, I do it, precisely out of politeness and decorum. It is disappointing to me that others do not feel the same way.

I am no longer hurt or worried by M.I.'s actions; I think time has aided me in realizing that I shouldn't give someone power over me and that control to prey on my insecurities or desires perhaps. I think that, again, I feel an enormous disappointment for the class of person's I have allowed myself to be associated with and, on occasion, encouraged or fostered those acquaintances.

No more. I have promised myself not to contact M.I. again. I mean it this time.

A.B.

Mommy dearest

My mother visited for a week last week and I love my mom to death but 10 days is a lengthy stay. Towards the end, I was counting the minutes.

However, we did have a splendid time. I was able to take a week off of work (only to have to come into work two days in the middle, how rotten) to be with her.

I rented a Zipcar for the first time... there is an innate sense of freedom in driving that is indescribable. For those that do not know (yet), Zipcar is this fabulous new service where you register as a member and rent cars, by the hour or per day, and pick them up at strategically placed parking lots throughout the city. For most New Yorkers, having a car is unessential to day to day living. Anyhow, I rented one and took my mother to, where else, Woodbury Commons. The drive was soothing and, even though we got lost, relaxing. (FYI, MapQuest sounds great in theory).

In addition to a wonderful time during her stay, nice dinners alone and with my friends, my mom showed me once again how much she loves me. She accompanied me here to see Desperate Housewives. Reminiscent of this evening, and despite my mom's complete adamance towards loud and boisterous venues, she pulled through and drank her diet cokes.

I will admit I was the one with palpitations. It was joyous to feel her support once more; at the same time, I felt enormous stress as I walked in. My immediate thoughts were "oh my God, people are going to think I am such a geek". Alas, my nerves were quelled as I thought, "perhaps, perhaps not".

Mom and I had a fantastic time and enjoyed the show and she got to meet a couple of my acquaintances.

Now, I miss my mom.

A.B.

P.S. If you know how to avoid comment-spammers, please e-mail me here, as you can tell, I am sort of new at this.

Venting, from the latin Ventus (no, that does not mean to break wind)

So, I had a momentary lapse in judgment with respect to the prior post but boy did that feel good :-o

A.B.

A Word to the Wise

If you are considering becoming a lawyer or an attorney, think twice, particularly if you are thinking big corporate law firm... it is not worth it. Realistically, do you think all this exists just for the fun of it. Law firms, more importantly, partners are more prone to side with a client ($$) than with an associate. So, long hours, and by long hours I am talking about 60+, 70+ or 80+ (billable) a week, aren't a worry... quite the contrary more billables!

Working like a dog is not a bad thing; working like a dog at remedial tasks, say, running redlines or sitting at your desk late at night waiting for clients in case they need something is a waste. Moreso when law firms are equipped to handle these tasks with less qualified (i.e., non-legal degree) persons employed for such administrative tasks.

I AM FED UP WITH THIS SHIT.

A.B.

Awesome night out

Yesterday night was fantastic. My friend H.P. had wanted to introduce me to his mother, as she was in town visiting. After their dinner, we decided to meet up at a bar in the L.E.S. which, fortunately, was closed for renovations. H.P. decided we should go to a gay bar, Starlight, with mom in tow.

Mind you, my mother is a fag-hag (though she never has been to a bar, gay or straight). I thought the idea of bringing mom along was novel and delightful.

After the cosmos and the vodka tonics flowed, people began looking at us, and not in a strange way, but rather in an inquisitive-yet-I-won't-dare-ask type of way. As the night progressed, we were engaged in conversations with the people around us saying how fantastic it was to have a mom at the bar.

H.P.'s mom was adorable, chatting away, asking people questions, sharing her own experience with respect to her son's coming out, etc.

I think the best part of the experience was that we got to share our lives and a moment with a maternal figure and not feel that we were offending her for being us. Weird perhaps, but something every gay man should do (with his or somebody else's mother).

A.B.

Oblivion

M.I. has become obsolete. We had a talk over dinner and was informed that his life is just too complicated at the moment to even contemplate anything remotely serious.

So, aside from thinking that that was a cop out and writing him off ipso facto, the guy called me a week later to see what was up and to say we should get together. Color me stupid please, now. If your life is too complicated, why would you continue seeing a person that (i) makes your life complicated, and (ii) reminds you that your life is complicated?

I am realizing that we are complex creatures (and I have realized this before, but I just keep forgetting the lesson learned) and we fear being too honest. My friend H.P. says that this guy just doesn't want to be portrayed as a 'bad guy' and thus resorts to the "my life is complicated" line. It is like game theory, a no-lose situation. I'm not 'hurt', he isn't evil. Well, that is skewed logic, because it ultimately fails to address that lack of honesty is, too, hurtful.

Anyhow, enough of that. I am moving on and should have time ago. Again, another experience, not a great one, but an experience nonetheless. Perhaps this guy will someday realize that I'm not only handsome, professional, intelligent and adored by mothers everywhere, but also, a decent human being.

A.B.

Honesty, is it the best policy?

On Thursday, I was completely fed up with M.I.'s lack of communication/interaction. So I wrote this to him:


Hey M.I.,
I tried to reach you, I have some really cool news I would like to share with you.
In any event, I also want to ask you what's up. It appears to me that you aren't interested in hanging out or dating or a friendship and for the sake of clarity I would like to know if that is in fact the case. I don't mean to be a pester, but I feel I'm not off the mark here, I feel like I am the lowest of priorities (not to say I expect to be the highest one, but feeling like the last sort of sucks). I would have preferred to talk (as opposed to e-mail), but, in any event, have always preferred directness as opposed to beating around the bush. If you are pursuing other interests, or have no interest in me or desire to hang out or maintain a semblance of a friendship, I'd appreciate it if you would say so. Clarity and honesty are always much appreciated. ...
I think you are a great guy, very smart, articulate and handsome and have enjoyed getting to know you, but if it is time to withdraw, I'll take the queue, just say so.
I don't mean to be dramatic, I really hate that. Just hope you understand I'm wanting clarity.
Take care,
A.B.

To which I received a response with the "it isn't you, in a jam, talk later response". He called and said that we would try to do something on Saturday. Well, Saturday came and went and no call. Men suck. With an e-mail like that, why can't a person respond and say, "gee, thanks, but you know, I am not interested". Is saying that too offensive? Or do we prefer a cowardly stance? I am befuddled.

A.B.

The heart has reasons that reason cannot fathom.

I was completely put off by M.I.'s behavior, the lack of contact had been enough on Friday and I had sworn him off... that was until he called at 10.30 p.m. to complain that he was just getting out of the office. I responded, "Spare me the self-pity, I am still at the office." We had a nice conversation, as always, but that was it, no follow up other than a let's talk tomorrow or Sunday.

Saturday was a blast, I went to Fire Island for the first time. It was but a day trip, but I loved it. I guess if I had to sum it up in one word, it would be "vibrant." I arrived back in Manhattan at 1 a.m. and ran home to work on some things I needed to get done by Sunday at 9.00 a.m. for work (the recipient of the work product needed it at that time, yeah right. He didn't start reading it until Monday 9.00 a.m., fuck that). Back to train ride back though. I saw a very attractive guy on the platform and thought to myself, A.B., you should talk to him. As fate would have it, we ended up on the same train and after a neverending internal diatribe, I approached him and he asked me to sit down. Well, it turns out we had been in touch via e-mail (on http://www.connexion.org). We exchanged numbers when we arrived to Penn Station and there was clearly some chemistry in the air. When I got home and turned on my computer to start working, I already had an e-mail from him :-)

Now, all along, I couldn't get M.I. out of my head, he lingered there all through Fire Island, all through work and all through Sunday. So I called him on Sunday afternoon to say hello and got the inevitable voice mailbox. I was fuming, again. Now, I fumed because I thought "this guy is so avoiding me and can't even say so." Well, I guess I jumped to conclusions because I received a text message about 4 hours later stating that he was sick and in the hospital. My heart skipped a beat and I felt terrible and at the same time wanted to rush to his side like Flo Nightingale, I'm such a fag. Anyhow, I called him (no answer) and sent him a text message (no response). By 10.30 p.m. I was hoping it wasn't anything grave and called his home (which I had never done before). As I heard someone pick up, I thought, "oh good, he's ok". The voice on the other end was a guy (unknown who or what he was) who told me that M.I. was sick, had gone to the hospital, a bout with gastroenteritis and that he was sleeping. I put on my more serene of voices and said I had just called to see how he was doing and to offer any help if he needed it. Haven't heard back from him yet.

Am I just stupid for still hoping?

A.B.

Hope is the last to die...

We spoke, moreover, we've spoken. So besides the "I have been sick" card, and the "My life is so busy" excuses, I just finally said that I didn't like asking people to call me because I think it is impolite, I can just as easily pick up the phone and punch in the digits, right? But, I explained, this seems to warrant that you call me tomorrow when you decide you have time and are available.

That was Wednesday afternoon. I haven't heard from him yet. So, the little, if any, lingering hope I had to actually see this guy again, has whithered.

I think the last nail in the coffin was when I signed up yesterday for gay.com.

A.B.

Dating Game?

I haven't heard from the guy in over three days, I wonder, is this the dating game or is he simply not interested?

We all know about the rules, some of us don't apply them, some are religious to a fault when it comes to them. I like to think that I stand somewhere in between. Neither too strict, nor too lax. However, not knowing what he thinks in this respect has led me down a path of confusion and frustration. There are many wonderful guys out there, but what are we losing when we become confused and frustrated? I insist, that only tears away at any bridge that may have been built on attraction and mutual interest, it doesn't enhance that connection.

I guess somewhere in that sea, there has got to be a fish like me. Time will tell.

A.B.

I feel stupid.

After a brief infection of phone tag with the guy, we were able to speak this evening... as he was on an out-of-town bound train. The joys of dating I say. Lightly (ok, not so lightly) frustrated, I had to ask 'straight out' but in a fidgety way "What's the deal? I mean, I, uh, hmm, I'm not sure whether I should back off or, er, uh, you know, stop pursuing this interest."

I was a bit surprised at the calm response and apology stating that it's been a tough couple of weeks, that he was sorry for being out of touch and that we would get together when he got back.

Now, I have mixed emotions, I feel a bit stupid for having actually asked the question and am a bit elated at the response.

So now what?

A.B.

Dating (or going out?)... argh!

Dating in New York baffles me. It is not only the uncertainties and insecurities of becoming acquainted with a new person (those are par for the course in any dating scenario), but, more importantly, our respective approaches to dating.

Case in point: I have been seeing a couple of people, but one really piques my interest. We have gone out some four times and, yes, had sex. We speak on the phone infrequently in my view but, when we do, we have an interesting conversation and it seems to me he is interested. His actions denote otherwise as we have seen each other once a week at most, and not on a Friday or Saturday. There is too, a perceived elusiveness. Calls go to voicemail and then are returned some hours or a day later.

My natural reaction is to ask straight (no pun intended) out whether he's interested in me (without labeling what that interest may be), but this approach has not been well received in the past: guys scram. This is not an invitation to a commitment ceremony, or Massachussets for that matter, but a desire for open communication. On the other hand, not doing anything may be perceived as a lack of interest on my part.

So, the invitation to dinner for Saturday extended on Monday has gone unanswered, the Wednesday follow-up call has not been returned and I fear that I may have my "unofficial" answer.

I hate dating woes. Argh!

A.B.

Inspiration

So, this blog has inspired me to be more introspective and contemplative, to not get so caught up in the whirlwind of the city and set aside some time every day to recapitulate where I stand in the grand (or perhaps not so grand) scheme of things.

But firstly, a little bit about me. I am an attorney, practicing in one of the larger law firms in New York; currently 31; single; male; and gay.

So, looking forward to the interaction.

A.B.