Sunday I saw two spectacular movies. Somehow, I never saw The Color Purple. Back when it came out I was young(er) and it didn't really call out to me. That was unfortunate. But Sunday, I was overwhelmed. And it made me love Whoopi even more.
I also saw My Life Without Me, about a young wife and mother who is diagnosed with a terminal illness and given a few months to live. The main character makes all the necessary arrangements prior to her impending death and decides to do those things she feels she should have done, but never had an opportunity to do. Perhaps not a novel story-line, granted, but it was quite moving nonetheless.
A.B.
Thursday, September 21, 2006
Sunday, September 17, 2006
The Guy 3
A month into knowing the guy, I invited him on impulse to a wedding I was attending at the Berkshires. My friends have told me to not be too impulsive, it scares guys. The wedding was a gay wedding (my first) in the Berkshires and I had already made arrangements for an inn and car rental to get there. I invited the guy and he said he would love to go. We ended up going. We spent Friday, Saturday and Sunday together. We drove up together and had a lovely ride, although I got a speeding ticket.
We arrived Friday evening to a barn dinner with all the wedding guests. As we walked in, people turned to look at us. The grooms, friends of mine, hadn't met the guy yet and came over to greet us. One of the grooms whispered to me and asked where I had met him. The dinner was stupendous, a buffet style dinner with a country flair to it. We had a wonderful time and chatted with the grooms' parents and family and were asked on many occasions how long we had been together. Despite the slight awkwardness, it felt quite natural.
Saturday, we went horseback riding and then to lunch in one of the little surrounding towns. After that, we went back to the inn to get ready and then off to the wedding. The ceremony was a stellar event. After that, we crossed the highway to the grooms' home and attended the receptioin, which went late into the night.
On Sunday, we went to the brunch that was offered for the guests and family and then came back home. My mom arrived that afternoon to visit for a week, so on the way back I commented that because my mom would be here, and if he was alright with it, it would be nice if we could all three get together. He wasn't taken aback by this, quite the contrary, he said he would love to meet my mom.
I must say, I was surprised. My experience has been that guys just don't feel comfortable meeting the parents so soon. He took it in stride and that made me feel even more attracted to him than I did already.
On Monday, we went to a fashion show with my mom and then to dinner. And things were seamless. My mom, commenting on our way back home, said that she had found him to be so genuine and uncomplicated. He, in an e-mail the next day, stated that he thought my mom was so authentic and genuine. I would say it went well.
On Friday, the guy and I had dinner with my mom and my dear friend L.C. L.C. found the guy to be adorable.
So, things seem to be ok for the time being, although I do feel my haunting insecurities in the back of my mind. I have and am developing feelings for the guy.
A.B.
We arrived Friday evening to a barn dinner with all the wedding guests. As we walked in, people turned to look at us. The grooms, friends of mine, hadn't met the guy yet and came over to greet us. One of the grooms whispered to me and asked where I had met him. The dinner was stupendous, a buffet style dinner with a country flair to it. We had a wonderful time and chatted with the grooms' parents and family and were asked on many occasions how long we had been together. Despite the slight awkwardness, it felt quite natural.
Saturday, we went horseback riding and then to lunch in one of the little surrounding towns. After that, we went back to the inn to get ready and then off to the wedding. The ceremony was a stellar event. After that, we crossed the highway to the grooms' home and attended the receptioin, which went late into the night.
On Sunday, we went to the brunch that was offered for the guests and family and then came back home. My mom arrived that afternoon to visit for a week, so on the way back I commented that because my mom would be here, and if he was alright with it, it would be nice if we could all three get together. He wasn't taken aback by this, quite the contrary, he said he would love to meet my mom.
I must say, I was surprised. My experience has been that guys just don't feel comfortable meeting the parents so soon. He took it in stride and that made me feel even more attracted to him than I did already.
On Monday, we went to a fashion show with my mom and then to dinner. And things were seamless. My mom, commenting on our way back home, said that she had found him to be so genuine and uncomplicated. He, in an e-mail the next day, stated that he thought my mom was so authentic and genuine. I would say it went well.
On Friday, the guy and I had dinner with my mom and my dear friend L.C. L.C. found the guy to be adorable.
So, things seem to be ok for the time being, although I do feel my haunting insecurities in the back of my mind. I have and am developing feelings for the guy.
A.B.
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
Globalization... of Stereotypes
I have dual citizenship. My parents, both foreign nationals (of the same country) were living in the United States when I, and my siblings, were born. Hence, we carry dual citizenship status. I was raised here as a child and subsequently moved back to our home country. I was raised there and went on to finish elementary and high school, and obtain my college degree. After working several years in Mexico, I moved to New York to pursue another degree and then began working in New York.
My mom is visiting this week from home and today, we had lunch at Chop't, a salad place near my office. The people that work behind the counter are, in their majority, from my home country. They overheard my mother and me speaking in our native language and asked where we were from, when we told them they were surprised and said we didn't look like we were from there, we were too well dressed.
This evening, as I was walking my little dog, I told him to come along in my native language. Someone overheard me and asked if I was from a European country. When I responded that I was from my home country, he said that I looked too white to be from there.
These small encounters always irk me. To think that everyone from an Asian country should have certain characteristics, or to think the same of someone from an African nation, denotes ignorance in my mind. It is the globalization of stereotypes.
It bothers me further that I must "defend" my heritage to a stranger because of his or her ignorance: yep, I really am from there; nope, it is quite diverse despite your misconceptions; etc.
This happens to me more frequently than not. I wonder if people ever stop to consider that questions like that may be offensive to the recipient, especially in a city like New York that is so inherently cosmopolitan.
A.B.
My mom is visiting this week from home and today, we had lunch at Chop't, a salad place near my office. The people that work behind the counter are, in their majority, from my home country. They overheard my mother and me speaking in our native language and asked where we were from, when we told them they were surprised and said we didn't look like we were from there, we were too well dressed.
This evening, as I was walking my little dog, I told him to come along in my native language. Someone overheard me and asked if I was from a European country. When I responded that I was from my home country, he said that I looked too white to be from there.
These small encounters always irk me. To think that everyone from an Asian country should have certain characteristics, or to think the same of someone from an African nation, denotes ignorance in my mind. It is the globalization of stereotypes.
It bothers me further that I must "defend" my heritage to a stranger because of his or her ignorance: yep, I really am from there; nope, it is quite diverse despite your misconceptions; etc.
This happens to me more frequently than not. I wonder if people ever stop to consider that questions like that may be offensive to the recipient, especially in a city like New York that is so inherently cosmopolitan.
A.B.
Thursday, September 07, 2006
Feeling like an outsider again...
It has been quite a while since I felt or was made to feel like an outsider. Having been living in New York since 2001, I have grown accustomed to not needing to justify my sexuality or to even be questioned as to where I stand in terms of orientation. In New York, I have found comfort in the, generally, live and let live attitude and accepting, if not welcoming, view the majority of people I encounter have towards diversity. Let me preface that by stating that perhaps I have been fortunate, and that I have not suffered discrimination directly. On occasion, there have been instances of what other person's might consider or find intolerable, i.e., hearing "faggot" yelled on the street. I have, in recent past, been aware of more directed assaults on our community in New York (i.e., gay-bashings) which are, in and of themselves, intolerable.
Coming from a country and a culture that is deep-rooted in catholicism, where discrimination and hatred are rampant and the norm, not the exception, an occasional slur to me, though not forgiveable and certainly not something to approve of or support, is not something I tend to get too worked up about. That said, these instances in New York have been two or, perhaps, three.
Over the labor day weekend, I went away on vacation to Nantucket. A friend of mine had rented a house there, in order to attend a wedding and invited some of her friends and me to join. I decided that getting way would be a good idea and since I had never been to Nantucket before, jumped at the opportunity.
The preppiness aside, the setting is most magnificent. The remoteness of the island (or the feeling of remoteness), coupled by the incredible and fresh seafood, made it a perfect getaway weekend. But, during the course of my stay, one guy, attempting to hit on my female friends (three beautiful sisters of Korean ancestry) asked me "Which one of these beautiful women is your girlfriend?" My natural response would have been to say that I am gay followed by complimentary conversation of my friends (i.e., a set-up). But in this environment, where all men and woman were so uniform, clad in their polo shirts, madras shorts and cute keds, the response was one of yesteryear. "Unfortunately, none of them is my girlfriend". I felt I betrayed myself but, at the same time, had no other option.
I was reminded of a line in Priscilla Queen of the Desert, in which one character explains, after a gay-bashing, that suburbia is a cushion that safeguards us from the rest of the world.
I yearned to be back home in New York.
A.B.
Coming from a country and a culture that is deep-rooted in catholicism, where discrimination and hatred are rampant and the norm, not the exception, an occasional slur to me, though not forgiveable and certainly not something to approve of or support, is not something I tend to get too worked up about. That said, these instances in New York have been two or, perhaps, three.
Over the labor day weekend, I went away on vacation to Nantucket. A friend of mine had rented a house there, in order to attend a wedding and invited some of her friends and me to join. I decided that getting way would be a good idea and since I had never been to Nantucket before, jumped at the opportunity.
The preppiness aside, the setting is most magnificent. The remoteness of the island (or the feeling of remoteness), coupled by the incredible and fresh seafood, made it a perfect getaway weekend. But, during the course of my stay, one guy, attempting to hit on my female friends (three beautiful sisters of Korean ancestry) asked me "Which one of these beautiful women is your girlfriend?" My natural response would have been to say that I am gay followed by complimentary conversation of my friends (i.e., a set-up). But in this environment, where all men and woman were so uniform, clad in their polo shirts, madras shorts and cute keds, the response was one of yesteryear. "Unfortunately, none of them is my girlfriend". I felt I betrayed myself but, at the same time, had no other option.
I was reminded of a line in Priscilla Queen of the Desert, in which one character explains, after a gay-bashing, that suburbia is a cushion that safeguards us from the rest of the world.
I yearned to be back home in New York.
A.B.
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