<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840</id><updated>2011-11-27T18:21:57.829-05:00</updated><category term='Legal'/><category term='Father'/><category term='Civil Unions'/><category term='Dating'/><category term='Gym'/><category term='New Jersey'/><category term='Sociedades de Convivencia'/><category term='Dinner'/><category term='Update'/><category term='B.F.'/><category term='Miscellaneous'/><category term='Cupcake Guy'/><category term='Mexico'/><title type='text'>Life in New York - A gay man's diary</title><subtitle type='html'>My personal entries on life in New York, nothing more, nothing less</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>124</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-8220543356862277148</id><published>2009-03-11T11:24:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-11T11:25:09.666-04:00</updated><title type='text'>...</title><content type='html'>Hoy quiero estar a solo con mi soledad...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-8220543356862277148?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/8220543356862277148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=8220543356862277148&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/8220543356862277148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/8220543356862277148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2009/03/blog-post.html' title='...'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-2478021936071986962</id><published>2008-05-07T12:43:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-07T12:44:31.888-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Cnn.com</title><content type='html'>It's an interesting article...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-2478021936071986962?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.cnn.com/2008/LIVING/personal/05/07/blog.therapy/index.html' title='Cnn.com'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/2478021936071986962/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=2478021936071986962&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/2478021936071986962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/2478021936071986962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2008/05/cnncom.html' title='Cnn.com'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-8601774348956631729</id><published>2007-10-02T12:28:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-02T12:33:02.295-04:00</updated><title type='text'>For The Bible Tells Me So</title><content type='html'>I just saw this last night at the New York Premier and invite you all to see it.  It opens at the Quad on Friday, October 5, 2007.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daniel Karslake (of "In The Life" on PBS) has produced, written and directed a documentary entitled 'For the Bible Tells Me So', a movie about biblical interpretation as it pertains to the LGBT community.  Our respective religious practices aside, the film is worthy of all the members of our community as a tool to educate and promote acceptance (or, at a minimum, tolerance).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The film's website is &lt;a href="http://www.forthebibletellsmeso.org"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.  The trailer is viewable on YouTube(r) &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ajBR0dq0XXk"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; and is a good preview of what's to come.  The movie has interviews with Desmond Tutu, Orthodox Rabbi Steve Greenberg and Reverend Jimmy Creech and analyzes religion in the context of five families with an LGBT member.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first week of a film's opening is generally the most decisive for it to be picked up by distributors and theaters throughout the country.  Precisely for the film to make it to the areas of the country (and abroad) where it's impact would be most beneficial, it is of utmost importance that theaters be full during that first week.  So, if you can, go see the movie and spread the word and invite friends and family to see it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw the film and was terribly, and deeply, moved by the various stories.  Faith has not been a predominant part of my adult life (spirituality, however, has).  In recent months I have explored my foundations of faith and this film has been a welcoming eye-opener.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope that you enjoy the film as much as I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. This is not intended to endorse any religion (or Christianity in particular) or to proselytize.  The larger picture of acceptance (or, at a minimum, tolerance) makes this film worthy of everybody's attention.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-8601774348956631729?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/8601774348956631729/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=8601774348956631729&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/8601774348956631729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/8601774348956631729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2007/10/for-bible-tells-me-so.html' title='For The Bible Tells Me So'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-2275172406398635573</id><published>2007-08-17T12:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-17T12:50:33.318-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Respite</title><content type='html'>The last couple of weeks have been nice.  Things have developed, but I'll keep that to myself for a little longer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the mean time, I am heading home to visit Mom and sister and to catch an art exhibit I have been wanting to see for a couple of years.  It will be nice to break away for a couple of days.  Plus, absence makes the heart grow fonder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-2275172406398635573?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/2275172406398635573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=2275172406398635573&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/2275172406398635573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/2275172406398635573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2007/08/respite.html' title='Respite'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-2949207986312812793</id><published>2007-08-07T16:30:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-07T16:30:59.701-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Billables - July</title><content type='html'>244 hours&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-2949207986312812793?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/2949207986312812793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=2949207986312812793&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/2949207986312812793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/2949207986312812793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2007/08/billables-july.html' title='Billables - July'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-4255007140811670391</id><published>2007-07-25T18:35:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-07T16:39:37.689-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Billables...</title><content type='html'>July 2007 (to date) - 169 hours &lt;br /&gt;June 2007 - 249 hours&lt;br /&gt;May 2007 - 267 hours&lt;br /&gt;April 2007 - 212 hours&lt;br /&gt;March 2007 - 195 hours&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not inclusive of administrative hours or time spent at work but not billed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-4255007140811670391?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/4255007140811670391/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=4255007140811670391&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/4255007140811670391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/4255007140811670391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2007/07/billables.html' title='Billables...'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-4184012833823425522</id><published>2007-05-15T15:51:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-15T15:53:58.658-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Never Allow Someone To Be Your Priority While You Remain Their Option&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-4184012833823425522?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/4184012833823425522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=4184012833823425522&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/4184012833823425522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/4184012833823425522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2007/05/never-allow-someone-to-be-your-priority.html' title=''/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-6522096706603184033</id><published>2007-05-07T12:42:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-07T15:20:20.243-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A month has gone by since my last post</title><content type='html'>Wow!  I have been meaning to write to myself and haven't.  Between attempting to close on my apartment, actually closing following the falling out of my mortgage financing three days prior to closing, finding a replacement lender/mortgage in one day, closing and then moving, well, it was a bit high drama.  Add to that those long hours in the office.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In all, despite the challenges, I was able to pull through it all and am now a homeowner and closed my first deal at my new firm without partner scrutiny and supervision.  Every time I open the front door, I smile.  Things are slowly coming together, unpacking little by little and doing small chores around the apartment.  The feeling is nice, of responsibility and duty, but coupled with joy and a sense of reward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the dating arena, life is improving.  I've met someone I am getting to know and have noticed my trepidation relates to being treated nicely.  This guy has been nothing but superb; a surprise picnic in Central Park, chocolates hidden in the refrigerator, postcards mailed from various work destinations, cute text messages, etc.  I have felt the unease of suddenly being the focus of someone's attention.  In the past, it has always been me the one who has pursued.  To suddenly be pursued is odd.  And the attention he bestows upon me is something I am trying to accept and enjoy.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dog has also become an even greater source of joy.  He has acclimated to well to the apartment and become more playful and energetic.  I have no idea why, but it is certainly fun to walk in and see him with toy in mouth, tail wagging at 1000 RPM.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am also having my first guest from home.  A dear friend of mine, &lt;a href="http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2007/02/changes.html"&gt;H.D.&lt;/a&gt;, is back in town on business for ten (10) days.  We are so far having a good time.  It's fun to have him in the quagmire that is my apartment and wade through the seemingly large number of boxes.  He has also started helping me settle in and accompanied me to The Container Store and Homo Depot to get some odds and ends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, I am having a little respite post-closing for the apartment and for a deal I was on, so I can get around to finishing settling in and doing the whole Handy-man thing at home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-6522096706603184033?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/6522096706603184033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=6522096706603184033&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/6522096706603184033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/6522096706603184033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2007/05/month-has-gone-by-since-my-last-post.html' title='A month has gone by since my last post'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-1845940339919718365</id><published>2007-04-12T13:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-12T13:23:39.765-04:00</updated><title type='text'>You live it, you own it, the silver lining is seen</title><content type='html'>About a month and a half ago, I met a guy at a bar.  We ended up going out on three dates.  I thought he was nice and would have continued seeing him, but for the fact that he didn't make an effort to ask me out on a date after the third date.  A week or two went by, and I called him and asked if he was interested in going out again or if his silence/absence meant something.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said he was going to be honest with me.  His response was that I reminded him too much of someone that had hurt him and that it was difficult for him.  I told him I understood what he was saying, and what he was feeling.  He said that, nonetheless, he would like to go out if I was interested.  I told him I would call him the following week.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't call him.  Though I understood what it is like to date someone who is a constant reminder of some former date/boyfriend/significant other, I also know that until you are over it, any new person you meet probably won't measure up to that person.  I speak, of course, from personal experience, where I have been the one doing the comparing.  Perhaps I jump to quickly to judgment, but it seems to me that the assumption is fair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt bad for not calling him.  Such an uneasy thing to do, to tell someone "no go".  But, this person was and had been nice, and certainly continues to be a nice guy.  I felt that somehow, an explanation was in order.  Two days ago, I sent him the following e-mail:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;[Name],&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Sorry for not calling.  I feel bad for not at least giving you an explanation, so here goes.  After we spoke, I thought a lot about the whole thing.  Reminding you of someone that hurt you makes me uncomfortable.  I feel I would be competing with the specter of a past relationship and not be genuinely given a chance.  I know this, because I too have been through a similar situation.  For a while in my life, nobody that I med [sic] could live up to that specter.  I don't want to go through that.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I am very sorry, I think you are a very nice and handsome guy.  But, for the time being, I don't think we are at the same place.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I wish you the best.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;A.B.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I chose e-mail because in honesty, it felt safe and sufficiently removed.  I was amazed at the response I received late last evening:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;A.B.,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for writing me.  I had wondered if you were feeling uncomfortable.  I understand and respect the position you don’t want to be in.  I am sorry for making you feel uncomfortable.  But, thank you for letting me be honest and then being honest in return.  For a silver lining I think we’re both better humans for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also wish you the best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Name]  &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was very thankful that his response was so mature and level-headed.  Now, if only the majority of guys I dated could be the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-1845940339919718365?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/1845940339919718365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=1845940339919718365&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/1845940339919718365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/1845940339919718365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2007/04/you-live-it-you-own-it-silver-lining-is.html' title='You live it, you own it, the silver lining is seen'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-8400987979708696555</id><published>2007-04-05T10:21:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-05T10:22:03.384-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Year</title><content type='html'>Today I am 33.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-8400987979708696555?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/8400987979708696555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=8400987979708696555&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/8400987979708696555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/8400987979708696555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2007/04/another-year.html' title='Another Year'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-3398591759526732326</id><published>2007-03-23T15:04:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-26T23:23:42.964-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Th@T</title><content type='html'>Therapy (both individual and group) has helped shed much light on my thought processes.  To explore one's upbringing and reactions to understand the why's and what's of our lives is challenging, saddening, difficult and revelatory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My latest revelation, if we can call it that, was realizing that I am my own worst critic in a very unhealthy manner.  I have always thought that the ability to be self-critical (in general) is an important trait, almost a virtue.  To be able to look at oneself from the outside and judge (objectively, kindly) is a conscious act; to do so is to affirmatively want to better oneself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my case, however, I have taken this ability to be self-critical to new dimensions.  And therapy has begun to show me this.  What others see as accomplishments and goals to be proud of, I see as mere completion of tasks.  Be first in class, check.  Get scholarship, check.  Move to New York, check.  Finish studies, check.  Get job at New York law firm, check.  Lose 40 lbs, check. Buy apartment, check.  Tasks, not accomplishments.  The satisfaction attained is minimal because I have viewed these things as a duty not a goal; there is no pride or joy associated.  Quite grim.  Furthermore, once finished, I look back only to think that I didn't do it right, that the act of finishing it wasn't gargantuan or special or praiseworthy, it could have been done better, quicker.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Through my sessions it has become apparent that these "duties" others see as accomplishments (magnificent or minute, regardless) that I should stop to enjoy.  My immediate reaction to finishing something is to look and see what is next on the list and to begin to fret about it and plan around it.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, lately, I've been trying to stop, think and smile.  I stop from my activities, think about something I've done and smile about it.  It sounds lame, sometimes it feels artificial, but pausing to ponder about something, like my apartment, or my new job, makes it worthy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-3398591759526732326?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/3398591759526732326/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=3398591759526732326&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/3398591759526732326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/3398591759526732326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2007/03/tht.html' title='Th@T'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-4340276684648530343</id><published>2007-03-20T12:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-20T12:42:59.764-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Movie Recommendation</title><content type='html'>If you have not yet had the opportunity to see "The Lives of Others" (Das Leben der Anderen), I would suggest you do.  This is a movie on issues relevant to our times: freedom of speech, repression, liberty of conscience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not only was I stupefied throughout the movie because of the power it evokes, I could not help but understand each character, his/her motivations and fears, and hopes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I highly recommend this film and will be purchasing it on DVD.  It certainly deserved an Oscar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-4340276684648530343?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Lives_of_Others' title='Movie Recommendation'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/4340276684648530343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=4340276684648530343&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/4340276684648530343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/4340276684648530343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2007/03/movie-recommendation.html' title='Movie Recommendation'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-3762914573854115830</id><published>2007-03-03T23:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-03T23:27:54.519-05:00</updated><title type='text'>This week and then fuck 'em and then go Jen</title><content type='html'>This week has been a bit of a whirlwind.  Work has, yet again, overtaken my life.  But, instead of being resentful, I must say, I wasn't terribly angered.  The difference, I suppose, is that my new work environment is filled with people who say such things as "I'm really sorry you had to stay late last night, but I really do appreciate it," and "It seems we are going to have to work this weekend, I know it's a pain, but let's try to get this done as fast as possible to salvage some personal time."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My prior law firm was of the not so uncommon variety where those pleasantries, that consideration for others, just didn't exist.  So yeah, it sucks to work until 5 am two days in a row, to work a weekend straight through, but at least people acknowledge that it's tough, they apologize for it and they try to make the best of it.  Yes, it is part of my job, demanding clients, demanding hours, fickle clients, etc.  But, at least my team (my new team) knows it and acknowledges it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night my friend CDK invited me to see Grey Gardens, with his boyfriend and their friend E.S.  We enjoyed the show, quite depressing actually, but a great show nonetheless.  Around the world...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I got to go to the gym, after ages of not having been there.  And then ran home to walk my pooch, to then head to the office to work.  I saw scheduled to have a date this evening with a gentleman I had met online and gone out with three times before.  I called him in the afternoon to let him know I was at work, that I had arrived at 1 pm and was hoping to make it out no later than 7 pm to make it to our 7.30 pm movie.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inevitably, the senior associate needed this, he needed that, could I send this out, etc. and 7 pm rolled around.  At 7.10 I grabbed my things, ordered a car and ran downstairs.  While I was in the lobby I called my date and told him I was running a bit late, had gotten stuck at the office but was just waiting for the car service to arrive.  He asked "What does that mean?", and I responded that a car would be picking me up and taking me to the theater.  I offered "If you would like, go into the theater, you can leave my ticket at the box office, and I will come in and find you."  He said ok and we hung up.  I put my phone in my pocket and got into the car.  I showed up at the theater in Union Square at 7.28 pm.  I asked for my ticket and was informed that there was no ticket in that name.  I walked outside, tried to find my date and didn't see him.  So I grabbed my phone to call him and saw that I had a missed call and voicemail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I checked my voicemail.  It was my date.  The message was as follows:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hey A.B. it's [DATE], I'm calling you right back.  I'm gonna suggest we skip it tonight.  I have been through this so many times, I just have different priorities.  You have your priorities, they are different.  I have done this too many times where people are always just putting themselves first.  It ends up being imbalanced,  catering to them and their needs.  We are very busy people and have to make choices on how to spend our time.  I get tired trying to compensate.  So I think we should just skip it.  I'm gonna go home and relax.  It's been a busy week for me as well, in a different way.  Nevertheless, I could just see your priorities are different.  I hope you make the right decisions and are happy. Bye."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I of course called him immediately, with my call going directly to voicemail to say that I had arrived at 7.29 pm, I was sorry I was late, but that I couldn't just chuck work.  It is unfortunate, but I just can't do that.  I tried my best and called to let him know I was running late.  I wished him a good night and hung up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, a little info on the DATE.  He is 41, from the midwest, works in the financial industry and has a job with predictable hours (read 9 to 6).  I, and I am very candid about this, am young in my career, expected to put in the extra effort/miles/etc.  I am not my own boss and don't set my hours.  I can try to manage, but I am not the ultimate decision maker.  Anyhow, it is clear to me that he and I will not be seeing each other again.  Regardless, for a 41 year old man to act like a child and so capriciously (read temper tantrum) is indicative of a future I would want no part in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I bought a ticket to see Dreamgirls.  Boy can that Jennifer Hudson belt a tune!  Plus, I just realized that I had seen Jenniver Hudson at a benefit for Actor's Equity, she was Jewel in The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas.  She was fantastic in both.  I hope she does well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I'm off to a bar, with friends, to have fun.  I work like a dog, I'm entitled to a couple of drinks, some fun times and oogling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-3762914573854115830?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/3762914573854115830/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=3762914573854115830&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/3762914573854115830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/3762914573854115830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2007/03/this-week-and-then-fuck-em-and-then-go.html' title='This week and then fuck &apos;em and then go Jen'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-7528991450421886881</id><published>2007-02-23T17:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-23T17:06:50.802-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Done Deed</title><content type='html'>At 3.15 pm today, I delivered my purchase agreement and down payment for my apartment.  Closing is scheduled to occur in mid-April.  I've lined up my mortgage bank and locked in a rate.  Now, I need to wait for closing.  This is a very odd feeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, today is day 30 of not smoking!  I am feeling cravings because I have been staffed on three transactions, all seem to need some degree of attention at the same time, while I was trying to finalize the purchase agreement and the mortgage matter.  But, now that that has been accomplished, I am ready to tackle work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow I am supposed to be seeing "The Apple Tree".  I hope it is good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-7528991450421886881?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/7528991450421886881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=7528991450421886881&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/7528991450421886881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/7528991450421886881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2007/02/done-deed.html' title='A Done Deed'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-6531864891807620725</id><published>2007-02-21T10:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-21T11:17:09.529-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Changes</title><content type='html'>I have been quite busy with my switch and matters relating to the apartment I am purchasing.  In addition, I have been entertaining a guest; a dear friend from back home; straight; the first person I ever told "I'm gay".  H.D. has been a friend through thick and thin, and though we have had our differences, we have always rescued our friendship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been entertaining random thoughts of sadness, depression, relief, hope, angst and disappointment.  After my last call with W.W., I have not heard back from him.  We were supposed to do something later in the week.  Again, I despair.  And I despair at our collective inability to be forthright with each other and honest.  To not be attracted to someone is not offensive; to like someone but not feel chemistry is not wrong.  Why can't we just say these things?  I am disappointed because once more I have ended up in a situation where I developed some hopes about someone and that did not come to fruition.  I am saddened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This time, I will implement the lesson I have learned.  I won't call him, I won't try to make things better, or prove myself worthy of his attention.  I will let this go, now, and in the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is day 28 of not smoking.  Yesterday, February 20, I switched over to the 14 mg patch.  I had been using the 21 mg patch.  I am definitely feeling the change; I perceive the lowering of the dosage because I am antsy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was the 10th anniversary of my grandmother's passing and the 8th anniversary of my becoming an attorney back home.  Today, I will be signing the purchase agreement for my apartment.  I will do this alone.  Not exactly how I had planned or hoped that this would happen, but the time has come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;H.D. and I had the most amazing dinner at Lupa on Monday.  I had been wanting to take him there during his last couple of trips, but for one reason or another, hadn't made it happen.  He loved my suggestion and we caught up for 3 hours and went back home.  I'm lucky to have him as a friend; if only he were gay.  He was metrosexual way before the word was coined.  He actually was my first adult crush.  He knows it and we often joke about it. I call him princess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-6531864891807620725?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/6531864891807620725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=6531864891807620725&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/6531864891807620725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/6531864891807620725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2007/02/changes.html' title='Changes'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-7202521188273643184</id><published>2007-02-11T15:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-09T08:47:13.744-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Miscellaneous'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Update'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Father'/><title type='text'>Update...</title><content type='html'>A lot has happened in my life in the past three weeks.  Starting with the last-minute cancellation of my date with W.W. – I had planned to cook for him at my apartment, a traditional Mexican meal.  That hasn’t happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;January 31, 2007 was the last day at my job.  I had been there for 4 ½ years, but hadn’t really been happy there.  The last 1 ½ years had been torture, and I dreaded going to work every morning.  I had an offer extended by another law firm back in September 2006 which I had accepted.  I needed to wait until January 2007 to collect a bonus and then announce my departure.  My new job begins tomorrow, February 12, 2007.  I am quite looking forward to a new professional beginning.  I have heard many amazing things about my new firm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Following my departure, I went on a vacation – alone.  This was my first vacation on my own.  It turned out to be a very good and healthy exercise.  On my way, I had a layover in Miami and had pre-arranged to meet my father – whom I had not seen in 5 or 6 years and with whom I had limited conversations during that time (about two a year).  Our encounter was thankfully good – and brief.  My father informed me that a couple of years ago he had been diagnosed with prostate cancer but was doing alright now.  He told me that he hadn’t told us because he didn’t want me (or my sister) to start being in touch with him again because of his illness.  I told him that despite our differences, we were family and that those differences aside, we would have been there for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My first day on my vacation, I got a call from W.W.  We spoke, he asked when I was going on vacation, etc.  We discussed getting together again the following Sunday, for a movie.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ended up scuba diving a lot on my vacation, relaxing, going out to dinner to various restaurants on the island and reading.  I had a lot of time to think about my life.  At the same time, I had to deal with an offer I had placed on an apartment.  Months ago I had seen this apartment and revisited again just prior to my vacation.  I decided to discuss pricing with the sponsor and during my vacation, was able to finalize and agree to a price.  When I arrived I purchased the offering memorandum and am awaiting a contract.  I may be a homeowner sometime soon.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although it stresses me out, it is also a cool step in my life, albeit a step I had envisioned myself taking with a life partner/partner in life.  Even if things don’t turn out as I had planned, I decided to not limit my life by those aspirations that haven’t yet been realized.  So, homeownership (apartment-ownership?) may soon come into being.  In actuality, I am quite thrilled at the prospect of furnishing my new home, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I was supposed to have my date with W.W.  I had called him yesterday and not heard back from him.  He had told me he was going out to a party on Saturday night (one of those anti-Valentine day parties).  Well, it turns out it was the Blackhearts Party (featured in this week’s TimeOut).  I called him again this afternoon (which I knew I shouldn’t have done… I mean, I just don’t get it).  I got voicemail once more.  I got a call about an hour later.  He had just woken up because of the party he went to.  Turned out he got home at 7 am.  Anyhow, he cancelled, said he wasn’t feeling social.  He said we should do something later in the week.  I didn’t hide my discontent and just told him that he should give me a call if he wanted to get together.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, today is day 18 (I feel like I am in A.A.) of not smoking.  I am proud of the accomplishment and hope to keep this up.  Although, at times like these I could certainly use a cigarette, I won’t.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A.B.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-7202521188273643184?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/7202521188273643184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=7202521188273643184&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/7202521188273643184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/7202521188273643184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2007/02/update.html' title='Update...'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-7182399807777014875</id><published>2007-01-27T23:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-28T00:05:29.264-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Day # 3 and others...</title><content type='html'>A week ago, I went to my doctor.  I told him I needed to stop smoking.  I had increased my vice to a pack a day of Marlboro Ultra Lights and hated myself for it.  It's such a disgusting vice, but I couldn't help myself.  Smoking was relaxing, de-stressing, escapist.  I had quit in January 2001 with the help of my acupuncturist back home.  In one session, I quit.  I didn't pick up a cigarette for 4 1/2 years.  When I hit stressful times, I began smoking again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On January 17, my doctor prescribed a medication, to be taken once daily for five days, the doubled for two additional days, followed by the same dosis and the use of the nicotine 21 mg patch.  I will be seeing him on February 12 for a follow up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is my third day of the patch, and though I have hung in there and made every effort to not smoke, I continue to have the urge.  I have fought it, but still feel the desire.  But I will NOT smoke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I bumped into R.G. in the locker room at the gym.  For the first time since we stopped dating, I was able to speak to him without feeling any pangs.  We had a brief conversation about my job switch, his work travels and said goodbye.  I was completely nervous because I had lost my nicotine patch on the gym floor (it was inside my book) and he said, you seem to be in a hurry.  I told him that I had lost something and was concerned.  I said goodbye, went to the gym floor, found the patch and, as I was coming downstairs, saw him again and just said that I had found it.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that, I put the damned thing on, ran to order flowers for three partners at my firm, as a goodbye and thank you token and had brunch with a friend and former colleague, P.B.  We went to Extra Virgin.  I ate the ultra-decadent french toast and told him the saga of my departure.  We finished brunch and said our goodbyes and I ran to an appointment to see three apartments for sale in the Village.  I may place an offer on one on Monday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that, I came home, rested and looked up mortgage rates, calculators and the like and then ran to a birthday celebration at Sala for a friend.  I drank too much Sangria and came home to walk my dog and write this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Long day!  Tomorrow I will take it easy and then go to L.C. apartment for dinner and Desperate Housewives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-7182399807777014875?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/7182399807777014875/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=7182399807777014875&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/7182399807777014875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/7182399807777014875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2007/01/day-3-and-others.html' title='Day # 3 and others...'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-3404401343506382919</id><published>2007-01-23T13:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-23T13:05:18.701-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Go figure...</title><content type='html'>&lt;table width=350 align=center border=0 cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#DDDDDD" align=center&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif" style='color:black; font-size: 14pt;'&gt;&lt;b&gt;You Are An ISTJ&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#EEEEEE"&gt;&lt;font color="#000000"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Duty Fulfiller&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are responsible, reliable, and hardworking - you get the job done.&lt;br /&gt;You prefer productive hobbies, like woodworking or knittings.&lt;br /&gt;Quiet and serious, you are well prepared for whatever life hands you.&lt;br /&gt;Conservative and down-to-earth, you hardly ever do anything crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You would make a great business executive, accountant, or lawyer.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/whatsyourpersonalitytypequiz/"&gt;What's Your Personality Type?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-3404401343506382919?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/3404401343506382919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=3404401343506382919&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/3404401343506382919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/3404401343506382919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2007/01/go-figure.html' title='Go figure...'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-4840666536066122576</id><published>2007-01-19T23:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-22T12:20:58.978-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Update of sorts...</title><content type='html'>Finished reading "The Year of Magical Thinking" and then gave it to my mom to read.  The book evoked many memories of my grandmother's passing and the ensuing years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also finished reading "The Married Man" by Edmund White, which had me in tears at the end.  Without a doubt, it is a book all should read.  Love is a complicated thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have currently moved on to "Dry", after having read "Running with Scissors" and seen the movie.  So far, entertaining.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Resigned at my job on Tuesday, much to the surprise of those I work and have worked with.  I went to every single partner's and associate's office that I have worked with in the past 4 1/2 years to let them know.  I would rather have them hear it from the horses mouth than via rumor.  Several partners have met up with me to ask that I reconsider and offered me an opportunity within the firm.  This is highly unusual and extremely flattering and I am confused.  I asked to have the weekend to think about this and get back to them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Admiring Aaron Brett Charney for filing a lawsuit against a firm, alleging discrimination based on sexual orientation.  Following the case as more news becomes available.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had a date two weeks ago with W.W., scheduled a date for last week with W.W. that he cancelled due to illness.  Haven't heard much from him since the cancellation.  Smells like the kiss of death to me, not sure he remains interested.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A.B.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-4840666536066122576?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/4840666536066122576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=4840666536066122576&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/4840666536066122576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/4840666536066122576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2007/01/update-of-sorts.html' title='Update of sorts...'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-9048025463287256161</id><published>2007-01-08T10:27:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-08T13:45:22.836-05:00</updated><title type='text'>New Year's Resolutions</title><content type='html'>This year, I spent New Year's at my friend C.C.'s.  Her parents were visiting in town and we had dinner at her apartment.  C.C.'s mother asked that we all write down are New Year's resolutions, which were to be read aloud after New Year's.  These were my resolutions:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) To learn to enjoy my life as it is and to accept everything in my life as it is or comes&lt;br /&gt;2) To be a better son and brother&lt;br /&gt;3) To love, and to allow myself to be loved&lt;br /&gt;4) To maintain my weight and continue exercising&lt;br /&gt;5) To develop myself professionally&lt;br /&gt;6) To travel more&lt;br /&gt;7) To establish a healthy relationship with my father&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We shall see how 2007 develops.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-9048025463287256161?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/9048025463287256161/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=9048025463287256161&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/9048025463287256161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/9048025463287256161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2007/01/new-years-resolutions.html' title='New Year&apos;s Resolutions'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-1437379215796688492</id><published>2006-12-31T22:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-31T22:01:49.337-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy New Year!</title><content type='html'>To all, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May 2007 be a year full of renewed hope and dreams, coupled with happiness and joy.  May the tenacity of your spirit grow with each day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A.B.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-1437379215796688492?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/1437379215796688492/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=1437379215796688492&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/1437379215796688492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/1437379215796688492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/12/happy-new-year.html' title='Happy New Year!'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-1038362169260187023</id><published>2006-12-25T23:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-25T23:32:24.116-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Home Sweet Home</title><content type='html'>Arrived safe and sound in Mexico on Friday 12/22/06... although the flight was slightly delayed, and my pooch traveled in a special cargo area, which was stressful to me, we made it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hit the ground running and saw a friend for dinner.  It was nice to see G.C.R. face to face; luckily he is doing well, just came out of a relationship but that ended on good terms, he is looking spectacular and life in general is good for him.  I was thrilled to see him.  He is one of those good, no, great friends that remain unaffected by time and distance.  We had dinner at a restaurant curiously named "Otto" which, unfortunately, wasn't as great as the New York counterpart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday, I met with my former boss and good friend B.E.; G.C.R. accompanied us, we had Chinese at a Hunan, an old haunt.  After that we then went to a club which was completely empty, but we had a good time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday was Christmas; my mom cooked a fabulous dinner, typical recipes in our family and today was just a relaxing day.  I saw a very good movie at home with my mom, Elsa y Fred, about an older woman and her neighbor and their budding romantic relationship.  It was quite sweet and inspiring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before my trip home, I met with W.W. for dinner.  We had tapas and after that I asked him if he would like to grab dessert, so we did and we went to &lt;a href="http://www.chikalicious.com/"&gt;Chikalicious&lt;/a&gt;.  Absolutely delicious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More later,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A.B.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-1038362169260187023?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.presidencia.gob.mx/' title='Home Sweet Home'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/1038362169260187023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=1038362169260187023&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/1038362169260187023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/1038362169260187023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/12/home-sweet-home.html' title='Home Sweet Home'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-4348206379496821313</id><published>2006-12-15T00:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-15T00:42:03.160-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Chocolates</title><content type='html'>Due to some mailroom delays, the chocolates arrived at W.W.'s desk on Tuesday, in the afternoon.  I received a thank you e-mail stating that they had put a huge smile on his face.  Cloud 9 has nothing on me.  We have a date Saturday :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-4348206379496821313?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/4348206379496821313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=4348206379496821313&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/4348206379496821313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/4348206379496821313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/12/chocolates.html' title='The Chocolates'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-1377563468645375960</id><published>2006-12-13T11:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-13T15:04:34.750-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Neruda, Pablo</title><content type='html'>Pablo Neruda is absolutely gifted.  I just bought a bilingual compendium of his work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;If You Forget Me&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I want you to know&lt;br /&gt;one thing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know how this is: &lt;br /&gt;if I look &lt;br /&gt;at the crystal moon, at the red branch &lt;br /&gt;of the slow autumn at my window, &lt;br /&gt;if I touch &lt;br /&gt;near the fire &lt;br /&gt;the impalpable ash &lt;br /&gt;or the wrinkled body of the log, &lt;br /&gt;everything carries me to you, &lt;br /&gt;as if everything that exists, &lt;br /&gt;aromas, light, metals, &lt;br /&gt;were little boats &lt;br /&gt;that sail &lt;br /&gt;toward those isles of yours that wait for me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, now, &lt;br /&gt;if little by little you stop loving me &lt;br /&gt;I shall stop loving you little by little. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If suddenly &lt;br /&gt;you forget me &lt;br /&gt;do not look for me, &lt;br /&gt;for I shall already have forgotten you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you think it long and mad, &lt;br /&gt;the wind of banners &lt;br /&gt;that passes through my life, &lt;br /&gt;and you decide &lt;br /&gt;to leave me at the shore &lt;br /&gt;of the heart where I have roots, &lt;br /&gt;remember &lt;br /&gt;that on that day, &lt;br /&gt;at that hour, &lt;br /&gt;I shall lift my arms &lt;br /&gt;and my roots will set off &lt;br /&gt;to seek another land. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But &lt;br /&gt;if each day, &lt;br /&gt;each hour, &lt;br /&gt;you feel that you are destined for me &lt;br /&gt;with implacable sweetness, &lt;br /&gt;if each day a flower &lt;br /&gt;climbs up to your lips to seek me, &lt;br /&gt;ah my love, ah my own, &lt;br /&gt;in me all that fire is repeated, &lt;br /&gt;in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten, &lt;br /&gt;my love feeds on your love, beloved, &lt;br /&gt;and as long as you live it will be in your arms &lt;br /&gt;without leaving mine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pablo Neruda &lt;/blockquote&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Such a beautiful expression of love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-1377563468645375960?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/1377563468645375960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=1377563468645375960&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/1377563468645375960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/1377563468645375960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/12/neruda-pablo.html' title='Neruda, Pablo'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-7787183741116305533</id><published>2006-12-12T10:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-12T10:47:16.809-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Romantic...</title><content type='html'>Yesterday late afternoon, I sent W.W. a tiny box of chocolates from La Maison du Chocolat and a thank you note.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-7787183741116305533?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/7787183741116305533/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=7787183741116305533&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/7787183741116305533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/7787183741116305533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/12/romantic.html' title='The Romantic...'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-1918800824060132653</id><published>2006-12-11T17:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-11T17:37:17.558-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Cr[Bl]ackberry usage</title><content type='html'>So, I read this on WSJ today:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;December 8, 2006, 5:21 pm&lt;br /&gt;BlackBerry Addicts: A 12-Step&lt;br /&gt;Program&lt;br /&gt;Posted by Peter Lattman&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WSJ.com’s most-emailed and most-read story of the day: “&lt;a href="http://online.wsj.com/article/SB116553463083344032.html?mod=hps_us_at_glance_most_pop" target="_blank"&gt;BlackBerry Orphans&lt;/a&gt;,” a tale about the unexpected impact the devices are having on family dynamics. We know that lawyers — and those of us at the Law Blog — are chronic BlackBerry users, so we urge you to read the story.  But the sidebar, “A 12-Step Program for Addicts,” is a keeper. Here are the recommendations, and feel free to add your two cents:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. During meals, do not check email.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Do not hide your email habits from family members. If you feel that someone would be upset to see you BlackBerrying, it’s a sign that you probably shouldn’t be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Commit to stop emailing while driving (even at red lights), walking across the street or doing anything that requires careful attention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Do not check email for the first hour of the day. In addition to giving you time to leisurely read the newspaper or spend time with your family, the practice will help you shake the tic-like checking ritual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Endeavor to leave the mobile email device in the car or at home when attending any function taking place at your child’s school, or when picking up your child from school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Decide on an email-free block of time. Parents should first assess their child’s conversational patterns — some like to talk about their day immediately after school, others just before bedtime. Even if your child doesn’t seem interested in talking, stick to your promise not to email during that time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Set boundaries at work: Alert your colleagues that your mobile email device will be turned off during the predetermined time slot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Actually turn off your device and stick it in a drawer during the time you’ve designated as email-free.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. If you are in the middle of a work crisis, still try to respect some boundaries. Consider blocking out a few 15-minute periods to check email — and then turn the device off again. Honestly assess whether the situation at work is an actual crisis that can’t be solved without your oversight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. When emailing while socializing or spending time with your family, ask yourself if your priority at that moment is enjoying after-work activities or getting work done. If it is the former, power-down. If it’s the latter, return to the office.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Upon arriving home, practice a ritual that helps you mentally separate the work day from the after-work evening. Light a candle, put on music, pour a cocktail. Don’t check your email during this time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. If mobile email overuse creates tension between you and your significant other, consider creating jointly agreed-upon BlackBerry-free zones. For instance, unless your bedroom doubles as a home office, consider maintaining it as a sanctuary of your personal life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So thrilled I didn't take my crackberry with me during my dates... then again, I am still not back at the office.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-1918800824060132653?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://blogs.wsj.com/law/2006/12/08/blackberry-addicts-a-12-step-program/trackback/' title='Cr[Bl]ackberry usage'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/1918800824060132653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=1918800824060132653&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/1918800824060132653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/1918800824060132653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/12/crblackberry-usage.html' title='Cr[Bl]ackberry usage'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-1865195770076689464</id><published>2006-12-11T11:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-11T17:20:48.025-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunday</title><content type='html'>It was 12 pm, and I thought it was time to call W.W. and I held back. I didn't want to appear to over-anxious which, with me, is always a challenge. I don't hold back and have been trying to maintain some form of equilibrium when it comes to dating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stepped out of my apartment to run some errands and then, at 12.50 pm called him. As he picked up he said he was just text messaging me (ugh). We agreed to meet at 3 pm in Union Square and then head up to the museum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I quickly grabbed breakfast at &lt;a href="http://nymag.com/listings/restaurant/jerrys/"&gt;Jerry's&lt;/a&gt; in Soho. I had some french toast with strawberries and bananas, and coffee. After that, I stopped by Paul Smith, Moss and Alessi, and then headed home. I took a quick nap, walked my pooch and then headed to Union Square.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;W.W. was running 10 minutes late and I got stuck in the 6 train for a good 10 minutes due to some malfunction on the 4/5 line. So, we met at about 3.15 pm at the holiday market.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We took the 6 train uptown and ended up walking in the wrong direction. As we realized this, I saw La Maison du Chocolat and asked him if he would like some hot chocolate. He said yes and we walked in. We ordered and W.W. said he would get it. I balked as the gentleman rang us up, $18 for two small hot chocolates. I apologized to W.W.. He laughed and we drank merrily as we walked down to the Museum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The exhibit was very interesting, though I focused much more on the Picassos and the Lichtensteins than on anything else. It was quite an interesting collection of varying artists with a common theme and, in some instances, reinterpretations of Picasso's works. We had a lengthy discussion about copyright and appropriation in the art world and came out on different sides of that discussion, which I thought was good. Differing views always lead to interesting conversations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that we saw the Kiki Smith exhibit, which W.W. found slightly disturbing and that I enjoyed a little more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We grabbed a cab and headed over to L.C.'s for the party. We tried to find something to bring along, but all the liquor stores were closed. L.C. opened the door and greeted us with great big hugs. We stepped in and were received with two glasses of champagne.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We continued our conversation, met some people and spoke with them, had some great food (a triple cream from Coach Farms, one of L.C.'s and my favorites); some amazing manchego; a delightful fig compote to pair; brownies with fresh fruit and other marvels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At about 8 pm, W.W. said he had to leave to take care of some work. He left and I stayed longer to spend time with L.C. At 10 pm I text messaged him with what I believed to be the answer to a question that we had lingering (an impressionist artist whose work had been exhibited at the Met that at the end of his life used torn fabrics to make artwork: Matisse) and got a response (Yes!). I went home just thinking that W.W. is a really nice person and hope he thinks the same of me; and that maybe, he will want to go out again with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-1865195770076689464?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.whitney.org' title='Sunday'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/1865195770076689464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=1865195770076689464&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/1865195770076689464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/1865195770076689464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/12/sunday.html' title='Sunday'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-477494198378966346</id><published>2006-12-11T11:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-11T11:54:31.050-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Friday's Dinner</title><content type='html'>I had dinner on Friday with the guy (W.W.) I met at 'Toys for Tots' on Sunday.  We had followed the event with dinner at &lt;a href="http://www.suenosnyc.com/"&gt;Sueños&lt;/a&gt; and had a very nice time.  Those occasions when conversation flows and silences are not awkward, but rather meaningful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We arranged to meet Friday at 9 pm for dinner at &lt;a href="http://www.thetastingroomnyc.com"&gt;The Tasting Room&lt;/a&gt;.  I arrived a couple of minutes late and W.W. was already there.  I smiled as I walked in and saw him.  He was very handsome.  Strangely, he wore a white shirt with diagonally crossing blue lines and a navy jacket, with jeans.  I was wearing a white shirt with diagonally crossing blue and brown lines and a chocolate brown velvet dinner jacket, with jeans.  I commented on our attire.  We were informed our table wouldn't be ready, that the restaurant was running slightly behind schedule and were invited to the bar.  As we were about to order a drink, the hostess offered us a complementary glass of sparkling white wine which we readily accepted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We began talking about his office holiday party the evening before and were seated 15 minutes later.  As it was his first time at the restaurant, I suggested he order dinner and that I would take care of the wine.  He ordered our dinner and I the wine.  And the conversation continued.  Midway through dinner I asked him what he had planned for the weekend and he said he was going to go on Sunday to the Whitney, as he an interest in seeing the Picasso and American Art exhibit.  I told him I thought that it should be an interesting exhibit, that the Whitney has always been a favorite of mine and then if he would like to go together.  As I said it, I felt like a dunce, inviting myself to something he had plans to do.  He immediately said that it would be great, quelling my minor anxiety.  I told him that that afternoon, my friend L.C. would be hosting a holiday party and if he would like to accompany afterwards to the party.  He accepted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We finished dinner, and the last of our Oregonian Pinot Noir and left the restaurant.  As we walked, we had that sensation of not wanting the evening to be over but, at the same time, not wanting to over do it.  As we stood on the corner of Elizabeth and Houston, I told him I needed some coffee.  I suggested we go to a coffee shop nearby which turned out to be closed.  I then offered going back to my apartment, and that I could make coffee.  He said yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We bought some milk on the way and headed up to my apartment.  I took his coat, hung it up and proceeded to make coffee.  We sat down, continued our conversation and then he lay his head on my lap.  I played with his hair a little bit and we kissed.  After an hour of conversation and a little flirting, he headed home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bade him farewell and began looking forward to Sunday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-477494198378966346?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/477494198378966346/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=477494198378966346&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/477494198378966346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/477494198378966346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/12/fridays-dinner.html' title='Friday&apos;s Dinner'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-8082886789926576051</id><published>2006-12-04T17:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-04T17:47:53.380-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Toys for Tots</title><content type='html'>I went to Toys for Tots yesterday, and had a blast.  It is always such a fun party and a great event.  Mountains of toys, streams of vodka, much merriment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was fortunate to see many people I have encountered in New York in the past and catch up.  I also saw, from afar, one of the guys from &lt;a href="http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/11/gym-adventures.html"&gt;Gym Adventures&lt;/a&gt; and the gym manager.  The gym manager walked up to me and mentioned that they have been having many complaints along those lines.  In addition, he told me that as they were talking to these two guys, one of them was confronted by his boyfriend who was arriving at the gym and found out what had transpired. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw a couple of bloggers at Toys for Tots too, so that was cool. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, finally, I had a wonderful conversation and dinner with a guy I met there.  I had not seen him and we bumped into each other, face to face.  He said "Hello" and then "I saw you twice this evening, but you didn't notice me, how are you doing?".  We spoke at length and then, as the lights came on, and everyone shuffled out, we went to dinner.  A great evening.  We are having a "second date" on Friday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-8082886789926576051?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/8082886789926576051/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=8082886789926576051&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/8082886789926576051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/8082886789926576051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/12/toys-for-tots.html' title='Toys for Tots'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-1708679198837474481</id><published>2006-12-01T15:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-01T15:09:19.395-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Celebrity Sighting</title><content type='html'>I rode the subway up to work this morning with &lt;a href="http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/3949454/"&gt;Stone Phillips&lt;/a&gt; of Dateline NBC. The guy is tall, taller than me. He's about six foot three inches tall; very handsome and very distinguished.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-1708679198837474481?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/1708679198837474481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=1708679198837474481&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/1708679198837474481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/1708679198837474481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/12/celebrity-sighting.html' title='Celebrity Sighting'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-1790588684284304242</id><published>2006-11-29T18:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-29T18:30:42.006-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gym'/><title type='text'>Gym Adventures</title><content type='html'>I ran to the gym last night after work.  I really needed to get a good work out in and exhaust myself.  I arrived around 7.40 p.m., changed into my gym clothes and then headed downstairs to the free weights.  I went through my work out and glanced around the gym as I did.  I wrapped up my workout with a 10 minute run on the elliptical and then headed for the steam room and shower. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to the steam room and sat down. There were three other people there, so I found a spot and sat down.  I saw that one of the guys was sitting in a rather "suggestive" fashion and didn't really pay too much more attention to him.  After a bit, he got up, stepped out of the steam room, and walked into the one shower stall that has a curtain.  Shortly after, another guy gets up, steps out and heads toward the same shower stall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, mind you.  I don't consider myself a prude.  But, at the same time, I know and feel that there is a time and a place for everything.  And the gym (at least this type of gym) is not the right place to engage in sexual activity (hetero, homo or otherwise).  I stepped out of the steam room some 10 minutes later.  The gentleman who cleans the gym walked towards the shower area and I told him that I believed there were two guys in the shower stall.  He asked if I was sure, and I said that I believed that there were two guys there.  As he was about to pull the curtain to one side, one of the guys pulled the curtain open in a very discreet manner, and, as he stepped out, saw the janitor and me standing there.  Case closed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stepped into a stall, showered and a couple of minutes later the other guy stepped out from his curtained stall and went into a glass shower stall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finished showering and headed to the dry area to get dressed.  Both guys were behind me, a couple of lockers down. Completely uncomfortable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They left before I did and as I headed down, the janitor asked that I check with the front desk before I left.  I walked downstairs and the two guys were at the front desk.  I asked someone at the desk who I should speak to and they asked me to please step into one of the offices.  I did and informed them what I had seen.  They said that the two guys' membership was being revoked.  I told them that as a gay man, I'm not appalled by sex, but that I thought that was not the place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, you might think I'm a prude or I am on some high horse.  The fact is, one these guys has done this and many other things at the gym.  I've seen him masturbate, postrate and conduct himself in a manner that makes me uncomfortable both at this location and at the other location I go to.  This was just the straw that broke the camel's back.  Plus, I don't plan on walking on someone's spunk while I'm at the gym.  And now, I have to go buy flip flops, which I should have probably done before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, my friends say I'm an asshole.  What would you have done?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-1790588684284304242?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/1790588684284304242/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=1790588684284304242&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/1790588684284304242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/1790588684284304242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/11/gym-adventures.html' title='Gym Adventures'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-6824571126493885887</id><published>2006-11-28T16:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-28T17:06:05.718-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanksgiving Weekend</title><content type='html'>Had a great Thanksgiving weekend and am sad that it is over.  Wednesday was a calm afternoon followed by a night out at a bar.  I had a good time, except for this ugly guy that groped me.  I grabbed his arm, shoved him and told him to never grope me again.  He stared back blankly, almost innocently, while a friend came to his defense.  I yelled at him to never do that again, let him go and walked away.  I just don't get people like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Thursday, I ran out the door (at 1pm) to get some dessert for the dinner my friend C.K., his boyfriend S.J. and their friend E.S. were having and had kindly invited me to.  I brought along a bottle of champagne and a bottle of white wine for our dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dinner was a feast.  A festival of carbohydrates most pleasing to the palate.  We followed our dinner with desserts and then ran to the movies to see Casino Royale.  I wasn't terribly impressed by the movie as a whole, but did enjoy Mr. Craig.  Now there's a walking orgasm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday was a mellow morning.  I went to my rescheduled therapy session, then shopping for C.K.'s birthday present (a pair of gloves from Paul Smith he had admired and told us about) and then headed to the gym to work off those carbs.  I had a great workout, the type you walk away from the gym slightly fatigued, but relaxed.  That afternoon I met a guy from &lt;a href="http://www.match.com"&gt;Match&lt;/a&gt;.  We had a nice conversation, but the fact that he lives with his mother was a slight turn off.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday night was dinner with M.I., a person I had not seen in a couple of months.  We had a good time, but he made some slightly off color remarks that seemed to indicate some ulterior motive ("wow, I can see your package", for example).  We ended up going out to a bar near where I live and then I headed home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday was yet another gym day.  This time I went with an acquaintance of mine, a therapist that assisted me on one of my pro bono cases (which we won!).  We have become acquainted recently and headed to a good workout together, followed by brunch at Sascha in the Meat Packing District.  After that, I headed home to walk my dog, take a nap, and get ready for my friend K.C.'s birthday dinner at Tabla.  The dinner was a lot of fun, and some of his other friends were there, including a recently-coupled annoying couple; the type that has been in a relationship for a couple of months and says things such as "I can't believe you are single, it's so difficult".  Two months and they have already forgotten.  Ugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After dinner, I invited them to my place for drinks and invited a friend to join.  After that, we went out to a bar again.  It was fun, there were a lot of people and, incredibly, many that I recognized from profiles on &lt;a href="http://www.friendster.com"&gt;Friendster&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.match.com"&gt;Match&lt;/a&gt;.  Of course this time, I had the wherewithal to not walk up to these individuals and say "Hi, I saw your profile on...".  It freaks people out if you do that (and I don't understand why).  I have a good memory and they put their photos on the internet.  Do they expect anonymity?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday I just relaxed, met another guy from &lt;a href="http://www.friendster.com"&gt;Friendster&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.match.com"&gt;Match&lt;/a&gt;.  Seemed a little too antsy for my taste.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that, I headed to Hell's Kitchen to see a show and then dinner with an attorney I have bumped into on several occasions at legal events.  We had a good time and dinner at Haru was scrumptious.  Perfect light fare for a week of heavy eating.  We said our goodbyes, and I went home to watch Desperate Housewives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was quite a busy weekend, but I felt occupied.  And that was a nice feeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-6824571126493885887?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/6824571126493885887/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=6824571126493885887&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/6824571126493885887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/6824571126493885887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/11/thanksgiving-weekend.html' title='Thanksgiving Weekend'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-1955048258900910094</id><published>2006-11-22T19:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-22T19:25:07.016-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Celebrity sighting</title><content type='html'>So, I just bumped into Hillary Swank at the Paul Smith Store on 5th Ave.  She is quite lovely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-1955048258900910094?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/1955048258900910094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=1955048258900910094&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/1955048258900910094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/1955048258900910094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/11/celebrity-sighting.html' title='Celebrity sighting'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-6372763541465359860</id><published>2006-11-21T13:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-21T13:08:27.577-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Kinky Boots</title><content type='html'>I saw this film on DVD (blockbuster.com) and thought it was entertaining.  In any event, just saw this on &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com"&gt;youtube.com&lt;/a&gt; and thought I'd share it with y'all:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/_shp6h0gmRw"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/_shp6h0gmRw" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A.B.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-6372763541465359860?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/6372763541465359860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=6372763541465359860&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/6372763541465359860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/6372763541465359860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/11/kinky-boots.html' title='Kinky Boots'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-1530920381025817938</id><published>2006-11-21T00:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-28T10:48:44.366-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Batting 1000</title><content type='html'>This came in this evening from a guy I had coffee with on Monday of last week and brunch on Sunday:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;a.b.,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;enjoyed breakfast yesterday.  you're adorable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hey, i don't think i'm available for dating, but if you'd like to pursue a friendship and hang out sometimes to engage in snappy banter and cher songs, count me in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;regards,&lt;br /&gt;j.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mind you, both this guy and cupcake guy were guys I met twice and once, respectively.  Sort of feel like I am getting battered over and over again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-1530920381025817938?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/1530920381025817938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=1530920381025817938&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/1530920381025817938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/1530920381025817938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/11/batting-1000.html' title='Batting 1000'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-5106395029805934890</id><published>2006-11-20T12:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-20T12:28:50.856-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cupcake Guy'/><title type='text'>Cupcake Guy</title><content type='html'>I received an e-mail from cupcake guy on Friday.  Truthfully, I appreciate his clarity and only question the means of communication.  He and I didn't exchange e-mail addresses or communicate via e-mail, so the fact that he searched for my e-mail address on my firm's website or otherwise and sent me an e-mail shows an uneasiness to talk face to face or over the phone about something that may not be easy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The e-mail follows:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Hi A.B.,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So sorry to be awol this week. Has been a busy [...].  Got your voicemail though and I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to respond.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a great time as well Friday night.  Would definitely be up for getting together again though I think I’d probably be more on the “just friends” track.  I enjoyed your company though so if that’s ok with you let me know.  The next couple of weeks are crazy b/t [...].  But maybe we can grab a drink (which may turn into dinner) after I&lt;br /&gt;return?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope you’ve had a good weekend and have a great weekend planned (I think this is the dinner party weekend, right?). Good luck if so!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cupcake Guy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I responded and let him know that "just friends" is fine.  I'm always hesitant about these things because to me friendships require efforts, like any relationship.  And knowing of someone's existence on Earth doesn't amount to a "friendship".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-5106395029805934890?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/5106395029805934890/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=5106395029805934890&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/5106395029805934890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/5106395029805934890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/11/cupcake-guy.html' title='Cupcake Guy'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-23331488862018302</id><published>2006-11-17T10:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-17T11:47:55.284-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dinner'/><title type='text'>Dinner with Friends</title><content type='html'>I'm having two couples over tomorrow (11/18/06) for dinner. I will be cooking as I inaugurate the Fall/Winter cookfest, that time of year I start feeling all fuzzy and warm inside and my inner-Martha Stewart comes out. BTW, anybody see Martha's hilarious cameo on Ugly Betty last night? It was quite funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, back to me.  So this time around, I am venturing into a new realm of Mexican dishes my mom taught me how to make.  It should be fun.  My only regret is that I will not have a "dinner date" for myself.  That sort of sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But tomorrow, after the gym, I need to run to WholeFoods to get all my ingredients and then speed home to cook away.  Wish me luck!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-23331488862018302?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/23331488862018302/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=23331488862018302&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/23331488862018302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/23331488862018302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/11/dinner-with-friends.html' title='Dinner with Friends'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-5143951935948891303</id><published>2006-11-16T13:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-16T13:48:54.750-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dating'/><title type='text'>Another one bites the dust... and other ramblings</title><content type='html'>Bumped into a guy at a bar on a weekend and had a short conversation.  It turned out I sort of knew him as a colleague had forwarded to me his profile (on his company website) saying that the guy was really good-looking and had shown her an apartment.  I didn't contact him because that would have been completely strange.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many, many months later (a couple of weekends ago), a friend points out this handsome guy and I end up talking to him.  It turned out that he was the guy my colleague had suggested I contact.  It came in the context of our conversation about our jobs.  I asked if I could call him and he said that it would be fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did call him a day later and left voicemail, he returned my call two days later and we agreed to meet for a drink.  We met on Friday night of last week (11/10/06) and ended up having dinner.  We had a great conversation and, what I thought, was commonality.  At the end of our dinner, as we paid, I asked him if I could call him again and he said yes.  We then walked over to a bakery and got some cupcakes (which he paid for).  We said goodnight and went our separate ways.  The next day, I called him and left voicemail thanking him for a nice time and for the cupcake.  I hadn't heard back from him by Tuesday, so I called again and just left voicemail.  Haven't heard from him, not even a call to say hello.  So, I don't get it.  Is it so difficult to return a call, even if you don't have great news or interest in a person? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, question for you all.  I debate this and go back and forth.  When dating, who should pay?  My view has always been that the person who asks someone out on a date pays.  And I have no problem doing so.  But my therapist, and multiple friends for that matter, say that when dating, one should go dutch (which I find completely tacky).  Their reasoning is that it doesn't impose on the date an obligation or a sense of duty to go out on a date again.  My sentiments are that if I ask someone out on a date (hey, would you like to grab dinner, drink, go out?), I am inviting them out and am attempting to show them a good time and to get to know me.  If I don't pay at the end of the date, I will come off as cheap or tacky.  By the same token, I expect that if someone asks me out on a date (and doesn't otherwise clarify), he is going to pay.  This all goes back, of course, to an upbringing that had assumed (1) I was heterosexual; (2) I would ask girls out on dates; and (3) that I would pay for those dates because that is what a gentleman does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, being gay may alter that equation.  Any thoughts?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I have been on two "interview" dates with people from match.com.  Both went quite well.  They turned out to be apparently normal guys.  We'll see what happens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lastly, today is the beginning of my sabbatical.  I will be working at a client's office for the client exclusively, for one month.  My temporary work-abode will be Times Square, the center of the universe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-5143951935948891303?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/5143951935948891303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=5143951935948891303&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/5143951935948891303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/5143951935948891303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/11/another-one-bites-dust-and-other.html' title='Another one bites the dust... and other ramblings'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-2476059018936237149</id><published>2006-11-10T11:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-10T12:10:19.742-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Legal'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sociedades de Convivencia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mexico'/><title type='text'>México</title><content type='html'>México Lindo y Querido, Si Muero Lejos de Ti... is a famous ranchera.  It is a song of nostalgia for home.  Yesterday, the Assembly in Mexico City approved legislation providing for "&lt;em&gt;sociedades de convivencia&lt;/em&gt;," a civil union of sorts.  Although a &lt;em&gt;sociedad de convivencia &lt;/em&gt;does not allow for adoption (yet), it is a step in the right direction in a dominantly Catholic nation.  I applaud my legislators for balancing the public interest, the common interest and equality, in attempting to further equality and not bowing to the Catholic interests.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More information &lt;a href="http://www.eluniversal.com.mx/miami/21715.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A.B.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-2476059018936237149?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/2476059018936237149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=2476059018936237149&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/2476059018936237149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/2476059018936237149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/11/mxico.html' title='México'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-8910689558979578912</id><published>2006-11-05T02:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-10T12:20:23.169-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='B.F.'/><title type='text'>As Luck Would Have It...</title><content type='html'>I went on three dates with a person I met on &lt;a href="http://www.gay.com"&gt;gay.com&lt;/a&gt;. First date, we met for drinks and then ended up having dinner. Second date, we went to dinner. Third date, we went to see Volver, the Pedro Almodóvar film (excellent, please dont' miss it). That third date was last night. This evening, I went out to dinner with my friend H.P. and then ended up at Eastern Bloc, followed by Element. At Element, I saw the guy, dancing on the dance floor with another guy. They were making out. Either they went on a date or met there, who knows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Regardless, that guy is out of the picture. But, I am certainly angry and left thinking, what is it that people want? I mean, if I go out on a date with someone, and feel attracted/chemistry, I sort of give it some time, to see if perhaps that person might work out. I don't go on a date or hook up with someone the next day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I left, he left too, alone. I just stopped him and told him that that was not the way I operated. He gave me the line that he liked the time he spent with me, etc. All in all, what does that mean. They are vacuous words. I said good night, shaked his hand, about faced, and walked away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The more I live here, the more vacuous the gay men in this city seem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A.B.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-8910689558979578912?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/8910689558979578912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=8910689558979578912&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/8910689558979578912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/8910689558979578912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/11/as-luck-would-havie-it.html' title='As Luck Would Have It...'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-360152602547241287</id><published>2006-10-25T16:08:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-10T12:19:59.935-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Legal'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Civil Unions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='New Jersey'/><title type='text'>New Found Love... for New Jersey!</title><content type='html'>Gotta love New Jersey now, not for being progressive, but rather for being realistic about equality:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;strong&gt;HELD: &lt;/strong&gt;Denying committed same-sex couples the financial and social benefits and privileges given to their married heterosexual counterparts bears no substantial relationship to a legitimate governmental purpose. The Court holds that under the equal protection guarantee of Article I, Paragraph 1 of the New Jersey Constitution, committed same sex couples must be afforded on equal terms the same rights and benefits enjoyed by opposite-sex couples under the civil marriage statutes. The name to be given to the statutory scheme that provides full rights and benefits to same sex couples, whether marriage or some other term, is a matter left to the democratic process.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I have thought before, they can call it fruit loops for all I care, just as long as I have the same rights and obligations of my heterosexual counterparts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I now will need to go find my fruit loop and head to New Jersey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-360152602547241287?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://graphics8.nytimes.com/packages/pdf/national/20061025_decision.pdf' title='New Found Love... for New Jersey!'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/360152602547241287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=360152602547241287&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/360152602547241287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/360152602547241287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/10/new-found-love-for-new-jersey.html' title='New Found Love... for New Jersey!'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-2743216568126013372</id><published>2006-10-23T22:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-10T12:20:38.981-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='B.F.'/><title type='text'>W. H. Auden - 'In Memory of W.B. Yeats'</title><content type='html'>The guy on Sunday recited this to me, from Auden:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time that is intolerant&lt;br /&gt;Of the brave and the innocent,&lt;br /&gt;And indifferent in a week&lt;br /&gt;To a beautiful physique,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Worships language and forgives&lt;br /&gt;Everyone by whom it lives;&lt;br /&gt;Pardons cowardice, conceit,&lt;br /&gt;Lays its honours at their feet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time that with this strange excuse&lt;br /&gt;Pardoned Kipling and his views,&lt;br /&gt;And will pardon Paul Claudel,&lt;br /&gt;Pardons him for writing well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the nightmare of the dark&lt;br /&gt;All the dogs of Europe bark,&lt;br /&gt;And the living nations wait,&lt;br /&gt;Each sequestered in its hate;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Intellectual disgrace&lt;br /&gt;Stares from every human face,&lt;br /&gt;And the seas of pity lie&lt;br /&gt;Locked and frozen in each eye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Follow, poet, follow right&lt;br /&gt;To the bottom of the night,&lt;br /&gt;With your unconstraining voice&lt;br /&gt;Still persuade us to rejoice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-2743216568126013372?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/2743216568126013372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=2743216568126013372&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/2743216568126013372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/2743216568126013372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/10/w-h-auden-in-memory-of-wb-yeats.html' title='W. H. Auden - &apos;In Memory of W.B. Yeats&apos;'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-8730187345902222811</id><published>2006-10-23T18:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-28T12:17:00.292-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dating'/><title type='text'>This weekend's dates</title><content type='html'>I had three dates this weekend:  a Friday evening movie and dinner; a Saturday brunch and a Sunday evening cocktails and dinner, with three different guys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FRIDAY:  I had been out once before with this guy, an architect.  An incredibly nice guy, he is becoming acquainted with a friend of mine and shortly prior to meeting my friend had contacted me on &lt;a href="http://www.friendster.com"&gt;Friendster&lt;/a&gt;.  I have enjoyed our two dates but didn't feel much of a connection and will need to speak to him about that.  I hope he can become a friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SATURDAY:  This guy contacted me on &lt;a href="http://www.gay.com/"&gt;gay.com&lt;/a&gt;.  He just recently moved to the city.  Very talkative and a little to pushy.  I have received several e-mails a day from him.  After our brunch, we each went our separate ways and that evening he sent me an instant message asking if I would like to go out to the movies on Sunday.  On Sunday, I knew I was going to have a busy day with work (deal signing) and thus wouldn't be available.  I let him know and on Monday morning he e-mailed me asking whether the deal had signed.  I let him know it did and he responded with "Great. Now I'll have you all to myself".  He has sent several messages of this type both prior to and after meeting on Saturday for brunch and it feels slightly stressful.  We barely know each other and he has already thrown out the topic of exclusivity as well.  Not seeing much of a future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SUNDAY:  I was on &lt;a href="http://www.gay.com"&gt;gay.com&lt;/a&gt; while on conference calls on Sunday and a guy sent me a message.  I read his profile and saw his pictures. I thought he was attractive and we had a conversation over Instant Messenger.  He asked if I would be up for meeting for a drink and I ventured.  We settled on meeting at G Bar in Chelsea at 6.30pm.  We met, had a couple of drinks and then decided to grab dinner.  We went to this Thai restaurant on 8th Ave.  After dinner, we decided to grab coffee at &lt;a href="http://www.starbucks.com"&gt;*$$&lt;/a&gt; to continue our conversation.  Throughout the evening, I had to keep checking my blackberry every time it went off because of the darn transaction that was supposed to sign (it did sign, at 4 am Monday morning).  I found him to be very nice, quite possibly because he was born and raised abroad and moved to New York to pursue a degree in fashion and then ended up staying here.  I'm hoping we will get together soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although it is fun to meet people, I am growing a bit tired of having to balance it all out.  Too much work involved in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-8730187345902222811?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/8730187345902222811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=8730187345902222811&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/8730187345902222811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/8730187345902222811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/10/this-weekends-dates.html' title='This weekend&apos;s dates'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-3035482920450802179</id><published>2006-10-20T14:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-20T14:27:34.960-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Dinner...</title><content type='html'>Went to the gym last night, felt like I needed a workout.  My gym attendance has been spotty lately, between work and social commitments.  Alas, I felt the need and went.  Saw many new people at the gym and bumped into someone I had met at Opus 22 one Sunday over the Summer. We chatted briefly, he asked how I was doing, and about the guy I was dating.  I briefed him and then he brought up The Devil Wears Prada and said that from now on he would call me "6" because of the whole Stanley Tucci/Anne Hathaway conversation regarding her dress size.   It made me chuckle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, walked out from the gym and grabbed dinner... My gym has a &lt;a href="http://www.wichcraftnyc.com/"&gt;'wich craft&lt;/a&gt;, so I ordered what turned out to be an amazingly tasty sandwich:  grilled cheddar, smoked ham, pear and mustard on cranberry-pecan bread.  Tantalizing!  I had a glass of valpolicella at home with it and just kicked back.  Wonderful way to wind down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-3035482920450802179?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/3035482920450802179/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=3035482920450802179&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/3035482920450802179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/3035482920450802179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/10/dinner.html' title='Dinner...'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-475200022569272002</id><published>2006-10-19T15:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-19T15:24:40.177-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Dove Beauty Campaign</title><content type='html'>I have to hand it to Dove, for actually "making it real". By analogy, gay men are also subject to the same distortive effect of advertising. I haven't seen a picture yet in HX, Next or Metrosource of a regular guy. Dont' get me wrong, they can be nice to look at, but the entirety of advertising/marketing efforts are skewed; feelings of inadequacy can't be helped.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, next time I need 6-pack abs, I'll just photoshop them in. I am sure there is a feature in PhotoShop to do that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Consider this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/MFPGa0pKyTg" width="425" height="350" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-475200022569272002?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/475200022569272002/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=475200022569272002&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/475200022569272002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/475200022569272002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/10/dove-beauty-campaign.html' title='Dove Beauty Campaign'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-116106186828372946</id><published>2006-10-17T00:49:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T15:19:57.111-04:00</updated><title type='text'>This Monday Surely Didn't Get Me Down!</title><content type='html'>Work was blah today... little things coming back to my desk, conference calls that got delayed, drafting that was just tortuous.  But then, an e-mail.  A reminder.  L.J., my friend C.C.'s friend, e-mailed.  A.B., just writing to confirm you will be coming to the benefit tonight, for the Actor's Fund of America, to see "The Best LIttle Whorehouse in Texas".  I cringed.  I forgot.  It was one of those things I confirmed to thinking I would cancel or L.J. would just forget... big corporate event, so many people, I would slip into oblivion.  I hadn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seven o'clock in the evening and it was time to bolt from the office.  Make it or break it.  I dashed to the theater, on 52nd, between 7th and 8th.  I thought I would have to put on a good face.  I arrived and see C.C., we embrace, kiss, chat.  She looks luminous, just got back from home, had a great time.  L.J. arrives and we walk in.  The theater is full of very handsome men, I trip up as I walk, not looking where I'm stepping, distracted at the sights.  Then I think actors, nah.  I bump into a co-worker with whom I am staffed on a project, she ends up sitting next to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We listen to Liz Smith give a moving speech, references to Ann Richards, etc.  Funny, moving, thoughtful, provoking.  Curtain raises, show begins, laughs abound.  The performance is odd, as actors have books in their hands, and glance for a reference to their lines.  Then I realize, this performance has been put up in a matter of weeks, with actors from all over Broadway, as a benefit.  And yet, the pull it off perfectly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I laugh, I joke with my co-worker, with L.J., C.C.  The actors are enthralled at being there, they have a glow, a joy.  It's contaminous.  They are amazing, in short.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Intermission...  some watch is being auctioned.  I wonder on over, mere curiosity.  A Cartier Roadster, Men's.  Who know's what it was, but I was possessed and bid.  I walked around, came back.  Someone else had bid.  No, that watch is going to be mine.  I bid again.  I walk around, came back.  Someone else had bid again.  That watch will be mine.  I bid again.  Call to the show.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Second half of the show is even more mesmerizing.  What voices, what passion.  I wondered what it would be like to have that passion in my line of work.  I lose my train of thought as laughter takes over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The show comes to an end.  I run to the lobby and linger.  Where do the bids stand.  I have been outbid, the jerk walks away and says, at least it will cost you more.  I can't care.  I end up winning the bid at below what I had expected to pay for the watch.  I pick it up tomorrow.  The owner of Wempe has my picture taken, cards are exchanged, contact information taken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't even think of sleeping right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-116106186828372946?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/116106186828372946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=116106186828372946&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/116106186828372946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/116106186828372946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/10/this-monday-surely-didnt-get-me-down.html' title='This Monday Surely Didn&apos;t Get Me Down!'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-116101289504857890</id><published>2006-10-16T11:21:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T15:19:57.039-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Weekend</title><content type='html'>This was a fun weekend.  I got out pretty early from the office on Friday - at least by my standards, 6.30 pm.  I ran home, dropped my things off and headed to "People" in the Lower East Side.  &lt;a href="http://www.joelderfner.com/blog/"&gt;Faustus, M.D.&lt;/a&gt; was giving a reading there at 7 pm and so I thought it would be a good opportunity to see him live.  Of course, I got there, saw him and then didn't know how to approach him to say hello, and I didn't.  The reading was very entertaining and he is very funny in person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that, I had dinner with an old friend I haven't seen in a while.  He has gone through some tough times, being unemployed and unable to find a new job.  He seemed in good spirits, very jovial and conversational.  It was nice spending time with him again, as he holds a special place in my heart.  After my break up from my 4 1/2 year relationship, he was the first person I met and he helped me at a difficult time in my own life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday was the typical personal training session at the gym.  I dutifully report that the abdominal section is still in repose and not nearing 6-pack status.  The workout was very good and my trainer was a blast.  He keeps me moving and flexing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that, I ran to an appointment to see an apartment.  This building, in the Village, just got refurbished so I thought I would take a look.  I was very disappointed.  I went home, did some work and then got ready for my evening at Radio City.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I met my friends at Ritz, a new bar in Hell's Kitchen, or new to me at least.  We had a couple of drinks and then strolled on over to Radio City.  We got there just as the show was opening and from then until the end of the show, I did not stop dancing.  It was liberating.  My friends had a good time and I bumped into several other acquaintances during intermission.  Such a small world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that, we had dinner at Hell's Kitchen, one of my favorite nouvelle Mexican cuisine restaurants.  Our conversation was diverse, from dating, to not dating, to work and fashion.  It was nice to kick back with people I hold dear.  The couple that invited me to this show is the couple that got married in the Berkshires.  There was a lot to talk about, from wrapping down the wedding to their future plans.  It was terrific to see that marriage is no longer impossible and that stability and love can be found.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Following our dinner, we went our separate ways and I decided to go bar-hopping, alone.  It was nice to just spend time with myself, to contemplate recent events and my life as it now stands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ended up at a bar near my apartment and bumped into, yet again, another friend.  He was there with a group of his friends and his boyfriend.  I got a chance to spend time with him and with one of his friends  he has been meaning to introduce me.  His friend and I had a nice talk about restaurants, New York, the concert and cuisines.  He seems like a really nice guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday was just a relaxing day at home.  Had coffee with a guy I met on gay.com, definitely too young for me, but nice all the same.  The rest of the day I just stayed at home, played with my dog and watched junk TV and movies.  FYI, Scary Movie 4 sucks.  What possessed me to put that on my queue?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-116101289504857890?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/116101289504857890/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=116101289504857890&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/116101289504857890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/116101289504857890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/10/weekend.html' title='The Weekend'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-116067478044983768</id><published>2006-10-12T13:37:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T15:19:56.960-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Barbra Streisand - Concert at Madison Square Garden</title><content type='html'>I got these tickets from my firm to the box at the Garden to see Barbra Streisand.  The show was great.  I am realizing I like it more when the concerts are about the artist's performance and vocal capabilities and not bright lights, lots of dancing, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The show was brilliant, Barbra was funny and she did a skit with a George Bush impersonator.  Although it was funny (the impersonator nailed him to a peg), it really wasn't necessary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-116067478044983768?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/116067478044983768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=116067478044983768&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/116067478044983768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/116067478044983768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/10/barbra-streisand-concert-at-madison.html' title='Barbra Streisand - Concert at Madison Square Garden'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-116058490582544099</id><published>2006-10-11T12:34:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T15:19:56.882-04:00</updated><title type='text'>James Blunt - Concert - Radio City Music Hall</title><content type='html'>My friend L.C. invited me to the James Blunt concert at Radio City Music Hall last night (10/10/06).  I am a fan of James Blunt, I had heard his song "Beautiful" sometime ago and ended up purchasing the CD.  I don't normally buy CDs, just occasionally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I truly enjoyed the CD and play it quite frequently.  I have even cited one of his songs, Goodbye My Lover, on this site.  I find his lyrics to be passionately powerful, a pouring of the soul if you will.  And with my romantic life in shambles, not being able to get things right, the words are a subterfuge for my emotions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The concert was magnificent, not a showy, glammed-up event.  Just a singer/songwriter, performing his tunes.  And that was more than enough.  L.C. and I did shed a tear with Goodbye My Lover.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that, we went to Bar Americain to have a glass of wine and catch up.  She confessed she thought that the guy wasn't that hot, but that she hadn't told me because she felt it wasn't really important.  She did of course say that I shouldn't feel or get down because of him.  I assured her that in this case, my initial reservations had proved correct and that I was glad I hadn't completely let me heart go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I walked into the office today, e-mailed her to thank her for a fantastic time and 20 minutes later won 2 tickets to see Barbra Streisand at the firm's box in Madison Square Garden.  I immediately called L.C. and asked her to accompany me.  So, tonight we are off to see Barbra, and I truly hope she tells someone to *fuck off*.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday, a colleague invited me to see The Pet Shop Boys at Radio City Music Hall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three concerts in one week!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-116058490582544099?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/116058490582544099/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=116058490582544099&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/116058490582544099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/116058490582544099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/10/james-blunt-concert-radio-city-music.html' title='James Blunt - Concert - Radio City Music Hall'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-116044650314264421</id><published>2006-10-09T22:08:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T15:19:56.796-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Guy 5 - Coffee</title><content type='html'>I had coffee with the guy this evening, a sort of vent what you will meeting. So, after talking and asking him why he would decide at dinner on Saturday to wrap his arm around me, hold my hand, rub my leg and, essentially, put on this show with this couple we were having dinner with, his response was "I don't know". Men just need to grow the fuck up and take responsbility for their actions. And not accept or allow their "date they are no longer interested in" to pay for their dinner when they have known for some weeks they are not interested in that person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, he basically said that although I was smart, funny, handsome, generous, nice, decent, etc., he couldn't get himself to feel attracted to me because I do not have a gym body, i.e., six pack abs and a rock hard body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I basically told him I found this to be shallow, extremely superficial and something he would have, or should have, realized by our second or third date. Not two and a half months after dating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the end, he came by my apartment to pick up a sweatshirt and then offered to be friends. I guess he didn't understand it when I told him that I found his superficiality to be disturbing to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-116044650314264421?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/116044650314264421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=116044650314264421&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/116044650314264421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/116044650314264421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/10/guy-5-coffee.html' title='The Guy 5 - Coffee'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-116040963644018783</id><published>2006-10-09T11:55:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T15:19:56.728-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Guy - What it boiled down to</title><content type='html'>So, after a couple of very slow weeks with the guy, and a dinner on Saturday with a couple we had met during the Berkshires weekend, things have come to an end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In his words, although the chemistry is there and I am nice to hang around with, he just doesn't feel like ripping my clothes off when he sees me.  So, I am an ugly guy I suppose.  I guess what pisses me off is that he didn't say something sooner and still was able to accept invitations, dinners, etc. on my ticket.  So, in addition, I feel used. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After dinner on Saturday, he didn't want to stick around and said he would head home in a cab with this couple we had met.  I knew then that it was done with.  He had said he would call Sunday and he didn't.  Further confirmation.  Then an e-mail today with a short message that we should get together tomorrow night to talk over coffee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wasn't in the mood for protracting anything any further, so I called him and said I think I know what you need to talk to me about.   And he hesitated, and then said he just wasn't into me.  Story of my fucking life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-116040963644018783?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/116040963644018783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=116040963644018783&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/116040963644018783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/116040963644018783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/10/guy-what-it-boiled-down-to.html' title='The Guy - What it boiled down to'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-116015660168051931</id><published>2006-10-06T13:42:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T15:19:56.660-04:00</updated><title type='text'>:-)</title><content type='html'>I am in love with Tim Gunn's vocabulary and I think he is hot!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-116015660168051931?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/116015660168051931/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=116015660168051931&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/116015660168051931'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/116015660168051931'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/10/blog-post.html' title=':-)'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-115884960657919712</id><published>2006-09-21T10:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T15:19:56.596-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Movies</title><content type='html'>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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-115884960657919712?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/115884960657919712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=115884960657919712&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/115884960657919712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/115884960657919712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/09/movies.html' title='Movies'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-115855069682140269</id><published>2006-09-17T23:21:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T15:19:56.528-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Guy 3</title><content type='html'>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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-115855069682140269?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/115855069682140269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=115855069682140269&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/115855069682140269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/115855069682140269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/09/guy-3.html' title='The Guy 3'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-115820489460479307</id><published>2006-09-13T23:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T15:19:56.443-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Globalization... of Stereotypes</title><content type='html'>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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-115820489460479307?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/115820489460479307/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=115820489460479307&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/115820489460479307'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/115820489460479307'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/09/globalization-of-stereotypes.html' title='Globalization... of Stereotypes'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-115766463301344728</id><published>2006-09-07T17:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T15:19:56.350-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Feeling like an outsider again...</title><content type='html'>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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I yearned to be back home in New York.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-115766463301344728?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/115766463301344728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=115766463301344728&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/115766463301344728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/115766463301344728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/09/feeling-like-outsider-again.html' title='Feeling like an outsider again...'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-115708056527339310</id><published>2006-08-31T23:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T15:19:56.273-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Guy 2</title><content type='html'>So, I have been seeing (dating? hanging out with? what?) this guy I met on, of all places, &lt;a href="http://www.gay.com"&gt;gay.com&lt;/a&gt;.  We chatted early July and suggested meeting for coffee.  Unfortunately, he had plans for the coming weekends, I was busy with work and the like.  We finally were able to meet on a Saturday afternoon, at 3pm at a coffee shop in my neighborhood.  What I expected to be a 1 hour tops coffee "date" turned into a five hour conversation. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that, we came to my apartment as  I needed to walk my dog, continued our conversation.  Nothing happened, we said goodbye and he left to meet up with some friends for dinner.  I carried on.  I played by the rules and didn't want to call or follow up for a couple of days.  My past experiences and showing my excitement of meeting someone I feel attracted to or interested in have always ended in failures.  So, a couple of days later I planned on calling.  Two days later he sent me a text message.  A week later I called him on a Monday and suggested dinner.  We had dinner that evening and, after dinner, kissed goodnight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next week, we met again for dinner on a Wednesday night.  We had a great time and suggested doing something over the weekend.  I had plans that Saturday evening and so he suggested meeting up with me after my dinner.  We did meet at the restaurant, where he met some of my friends.  We were at One If By Land, Two If By Sea and he met us there for dessert.  He dressed to the nines.  As he walked in, I could tell, for certain, that he had dressed to impress.  The fact that he did meant (means) a lot to me.  I notice these things, these apparently seemingly minor efforts and put a lot of meaning into them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After dinner, we went to Little Branch for drinks.  Our dated didn't end unti Sunday evening.  Sunday we had brunch, walked around in SoHo and then ended up going to a movie.  It was just so nice to have someone to spend time with and enjoy it, hoping the day wouldn't end.  This past weekend, we did pretty much the same.  Dinner, a show and brunch the next day with a friend of his.  We spent Sunday together once more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since we are both leaving on a vacation over the Labor Day weekend, we had dinner last night.  It was fantastic but I now feel a little anxiety and insecurity.  We've spent time together and had a great time, but now I wonder, what is too fast what is sufficiently slow?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next week, we are having dinner on Wednesday with friends of his.  I feel nervous because there is a degree of involvement (meeting friends, etc.) but where are we?  At &lt;a href="mailto:T@T"&gt;T@T&lt;/a&gt;, my therapist said that I should just relax.  Yes, so easy to do. "Uh huh," I said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So he is off this weekend, as am I and I am left to ponder where, if anywhere, will this lead to?  And why can't I just "go with the flow"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-115708056527339310?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/115708056527339310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=115708056527339310&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/115708056527339310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/115708056527339310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/08/guy-2.html' title='The Guy 2'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-115620003249991069</id><published>2006-08-21T18:39:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T15:19:56.190-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Guy</title><content type='html'>So, I've met this amazing guy and have had four dates with him and am completely and utterly nervous because I don't want to screw it up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-115620003249991069?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/115620003249991069/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=115620003249991069&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/115620003249991069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/115620003249991069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/08/guy.html' title='Guy'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-115498635617121723</id><published>2006-08-07T17:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T15:19:56.120-04:00</updated><title type='text'>New Trend?</title><content type='html'>So, my new thing is to refer to Starbucks as *$$, but nobody gets it.  I feel lonely...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-115498635617121723?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/115498635617121723/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=115498635617121723&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/115498635617121723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/115498635617121723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/08/new-trend.html' title='New Trend?'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-115496564482939819</id><published>2006-08-07T11:46:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T15:19:56.057-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What not to do on a date, or after a date.</title><content type='html'>Please venture &lt;a href="http://prdifferently.typepad.com/my_weblog/2006/07/how_not_to_act_.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; and read.  Boys, don't do this [PERIOD].&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A.B.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-115496564482939819?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/115496564482939819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=115496564482939819&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/115496564482939819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/115496564482939819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/08/what-not-to-do-on-date-or-after-date.html' title='What not to do on a date, or after a date.'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-115342552290945349</id><published>2006-07-20T15:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T15:19:55.992-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Scent of a Man</title><content type='html'>I purchased, over a year ago, a cologne that I truly loved on first smell.  They say that our olfactory sense has a better memory than our other senses and is a powerful cognitive, although majorly subconscious, sense. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This cologne - I have sworn myself never to reveal the name as it is "my little secret" - is one of those things that I just cherish.  Many people have complimented me on the scent, inquired as to the name and come up and sniffed my neck.  It's funny and it's conversational.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, my former assistant didn't see me in the elevator as she was walking out.  Half and hour later, she walked into my office to say that although she hadn't seen me in the elevator, she realized I was there because of my cologne.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stepped out to get coffee this afternoon and, as I came back into the building, the female security officer turned to me and said that she really liked my cologne.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;R.G. loved the scent as well.  I think he may be the only one that "knows" my secret.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have (or had) a secret!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-115342552290945349?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/115342552290945349/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=115342552290945349&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/115342552290945349'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/115342552290945349'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/07/scent-of-man.html' title='Scent of a Man'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-115255490896577260</id><published>2006-07-10T14:05:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T15:19:55.924-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A month has flown by</title><content type='html'>A month has flown by and I don't know what happened. I got distracted by much dating going on but, it seems, nothing has come of it. I met three different guys at about the same time and, though they all seemed nice, nothing really sparked. I guess I just really need to take a break, re-focus and center myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps, again, by not looking, I shall find.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On other fronts, work has been crazy, keeping busier than I expected, but not enough to keep me away from the gym. I am becoming, slowly and surely, an assiduous gym-goer. And it's fun. Recently, I graduated from "running" on the elliptical to running on the treadmill. And let me tell you, running is cathartic. I am focused on one goal, making it to my 30 minutes. And I am almost in a trance as I run: the pounding feet, the concentration, the coordinated effort and the sweat. It's fantastic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-115255490896577260?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/115255490896577260/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=115255490896577260&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/115255490896577260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/115255490896577260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/07/month-has-flown-by.html' title='A month has flown by'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-115047114445353256</id><published>2006-06-16T10:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T15:19:55.859-04:00</updated><title type='text'>T@T - Lo Mundano</title><content type='html'>I woke up late on Thursday, having been to an event the prior night. That coupled with stress relating to my job situation, well, my therapy session was left in a forgotten void. At 8.45 am, as I was leisurely walking my dog, it dawned on me. As I got into my apartment, my phone was ringing, I answered and it was my therapist. I apologized profusely, almost to the point of self-flagellation and he said I was being too hard on myself. We ended up having a phone session, and no, it wasn't that kind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We talked mostly about dating and my therapist asked me, "Well, what is that you want from dating?" I had to think about that for a minute. I suppose that what I want, I said, is the mundane. He asked what I meant by that. "Lo mundano" seems to be so natural to me, that I didn't really think I needed to explain it. Apparently, cultural differences necessitated some form of clarity. I responded, I don't really want a "Hollywood" relationship -- like the one's I see in the movies -- where everything is seen through rose tinted glasses. It isn't the endless emotional spiraling sensation. Those things are nice, but they aren't the things I seek. Should they come or be part of the package, that would be wonderful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, what I look for are the smaller things. The devil is in the details. Cooking for someone; bringing him a cup of coffee; observing him sleep; watching him read a book; watching a sunset together or taking in a movie; a kiss goodnight; a call out of the blue; a hug that touches my soul; the knowing someone, perhaps better than you should; a penetrating gaze that acknowledges your essence; to love, to be loved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That, to me, is the mundane and that is what I aspire to have in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-115047114445353256?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/115047114445353256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=115047114445353256&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/115047114445353256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/115047114445353256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/06/tt-lo-mundano.html' title='T@T - Lo Mundano'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-115014766939098682</id><published>2006-06-12T17:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T15:19:55.794-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Dating</title><content type='html'>So, the dating continues.  Aside from the SCA guy and F.M. (who never called back), I've met a couple of other guys.  I don't know whether it is that I am "jaded" or that these people just don't inspire me, but they all fall into the category of "not worth my time" or "nice guy, potential friend". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have insisted that the attraction and chemistry I have had with C.T. (who has not been written-up here as of yet, dates back to 2004) and R.G. are precisely the sentiments I aspire to have with respect to the person who will become part of my life.  Everyone else is just in passing.  Is that being jaded?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take for instance G.J.  A person who saw me at an event I attended and then found me on &lt;a href="http://www.friendster.com"&gt;Friendster&lt;/a&gt;.  We corresponded and finally decided to meet for dinner.  He's vegan, I'm not.  The whole back and forth on where to go was a bit boring, but we decided to go to an Indian restaurant.  I love Indian and so, it wasn't a bad option; but the conversation on where to dine detracted from the whole occasion.  G.J. is a nice guy, regular in appearance and looks, of normal intelligence and passionate solely, for the most part, on a film he has screenwritten.  The night passed by like a piece of driftwood on a lake with a mild breeze, sufficient impetus, but not full force.  I don't think I'll see him again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday, I met a person from &lt;a href="http://www.gay.com"&gt;Gay.com&lt;/a&gt;.    We had chatted over a year ago and then struck up a conversation again recently.  I suppose my new pictures had an effect.  We met, had drinks.  Again, nice guy, but not for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love is elusive.  Like porn, you mostly know it when you see it.  In the interim, I feel like that piece of driftwood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-115014766939098682?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/115014766939098682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=115014766939098682&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/115014766939098682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/115014766939098682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/06/dating.html' title='Dating'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-114927971907872519</id><published>2006-06-02T16:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T15:19:55.728-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Next...</title><content type='html'>So, went on a date with &lt;a href="http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/05/mojo.html"&gt;Subway Guy&lt;/a&gt; yesterday.  It was a very candid experience.  He was in SCA (sexual compulsives anonymous).  Date over.  He explained to me his proclivity, his going to bars and enjoying oral sex with go go dancers, sex clubs, etc.  Kudoz for being honest, but run while I still can.  That is too much to take on.  Next...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I gave F.M. a call and left voicemail.  I hate voicemail.  That was Tuesday.  No return call yet.  Next...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-114927971907872519?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/114927971907872519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=114927971907872519&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/114927971907872519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/114927971907872519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/06/next.html' title='Next...'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-114910675488081019</id><published>2006-05-31T16:18:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T15:19:55.660-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Idle hands are the devil's workshop...</title><content type='html'>Your results:&lt;BR&gt;&lt;B&gt;You are &lt;FONT SIZE=6&gt;Spider-Man&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/B&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;TABLE&gt;&lt;TR&gt;&lt;TD&gt;&lt;TABLE&gt;&lt;TR&gt;&lt;TD&gt;Spider-Man&lt;/TD&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;TD&gt;&lt;HR ALIGN=LEFT NOSHADE SIZE=4 WIDTH=70&gt;&lt;/TD&gt;&lt;TD&gt; 70%&lt;/TD&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/TR&gt;&lt;TR&gt;&lt;TD&gt;Green Lantern&lt;/TD&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;TD&gt;&lt;HR ALIGN=LEFT NOSHADE SIZE=4 WIDTH=70&gt;&lt;/TD&gt;&lt;TD&gt; 70%&lt;/TD&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/TR&gt;&lt;TR&gt;&lt;TD&gt;Catwoman&lt;/TD&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;TD&gt;&lt;HR ALIGN=LEFT NOSHADE SIZE=4 WIDTH=70&gt;&lt;/TD&gt;&lt;TD&gt; 70%&lt;/TD&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/TR&gt;&lt;TR&gt;&lt;TD&gt;Superman&lt;/TD&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;TD&gt;&lt;HR ALIGN=LEFT NOSHADE SIZE=4 WIDTH=60&gt;&lt;/TD&gt;&lt;TD&gt; 60%&lt;/TD&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/TR&gt;&lt;TR&gt;&lt;TD&gt;Supergirl&lt;/TD&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;TD&gt;&lt;HR ALIGN=LEFT NOSHADE SIZE=4 WIDTH=50&gt;&lt;/TD&gt;&lt;TD&gt; 50%&lt;/TD&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/TR&gt;&lt;TR&gt;&lt;TD&gt;Batman&lt;/TD&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;TD&gt;&lt;HR ALIGN=LEFT NOSHADE SIZE=4 WIDTH=45&gt;&lt;/TD&gt;&lt;TD&gt; 45%&lt;/TD&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/TR&gt;&lt;TR&gt;&lt;TD&gt;Wonder Woman&lt;/TD&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;TD&gt;&lt;HR ALIGN=LEFT NOSHADE SIZE=4 WIDTH=40&gt;&lt;/TD&gt;&lt;TD&gt; 40%&lt;/TD&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/TR&gt;&lt;TR&gt;&lt;TD&gt;The Flash&lt;/TD&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;TD&gt;&lt;HR ALIGN=LEFT NOSHADE SIZE=4 WIDTH=40&gt;&lt;/TD&gt;&lt;TD&gt; 40%&lt;/TD&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/TR&gt;&lt;TR&gt;&lt;TD&gt;Robin&lt;/TD&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;TD&gt;&lt;HR ALIGN=LEFT NOSHADE SIZE=4 WIDTH=27&gt;&lt;/TD&gt;&lt;TD&gt; 27%&lt;/TD&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/TR&gt;&lt;TR&gt;&lt;TD&gt;Hulk&lt;/TD&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;TD&gt;&lt;HR ALIGN=LEFT NOSHADE SIZE=4 WIDTH=25&gt;&lt;/TD&gt;&lt;TD&gt; 25%&lt;/TD&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/TR&gt;&lt;TR&gt;&lt;TD&gt;Iron Man&lt;/TD&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;TD&gt;&lt;HR ALIGN=LEFT NOSHADE SIZE=4 WIDTH=20&gt;&lt;/TD&gt;&lt;TD&gt; 20%&lt;/TD&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/TR&gt;&lt;/TABLE&gt;&lt;/TD&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;TD&gt;You are intelligent, witty, &lt;BR&gt;a bit geeky and have great&lt;BR&gt; power and responsibility.&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;IMG SRC="http://www.seabreezecomputers.com/superhero/pics/spidy.gif"&gt;&lt;/TD&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/TR&gt;&lt;/TABLE&gt;&lt;A HREF="http://www.seabreezecomputers.com/superhero"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Click here to take the "Which Superhero am I?" quiz...&lt;/A&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-114910675488081019?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/114910675488081019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=114910675488081019&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/114910675488081019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/114910675488081019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/05/idle-hands-are-devils-workshop.html' title='Idle hands are the devil&apos;s workshop...'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-114900951497828854</id><published>2006-05-30T13:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T15:19:55.595-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Mojo...</title><content type='html'>It's back baby!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess the funk is over. After the mourning, the sense of loss, the despair and all those wonderfully unpleasant feelings, it seems I got my Mojo back as my friend L.C. says. The only problem is that the mojo has a little quirk to it now... it attracts 23 - 26 year olds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have traditionally dated men slightly or not so slightly older than myself, anywhere from 35 through 45. Not a strict rule, it has just so happened that way. I find myself attracted to more mature, more established men who have, for the most part, been able to evolve past the partying, the drinking and sexual escapades to the theatre, the movies, fine dining, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My M.O. has usually been that. Until a few weeks ago. First, this guy, &lt;a href="http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/05/another-one-bites-dust_10.html"&gt;T.M.&lt;/a&gt;, happened. He's 24. I bumped into him Sunday night at The Cabañas at The Maritime Hotel. Friday night, after &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0376994/"&gt;X-Men 3&lt;/a&gt;, I decided to stop by Mr. Black, a bar on Bleecker and Broadway. I thought I would have a drink, feel a little less lonely amidst the crowd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ended up bumping into acquaintances. Those times you wish you didn't only because you would like to be on your own but are obligated by social grace to be friendly and talkative and inquisitive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Around 1 am, this guy begins talking with me. He looks young, but I think that it will be the usual 5 minute conversation. We ended up talking at length. The guy is quite handsome (F.M.), 23, out of college, working in an equity firm. He ended up giving me his number and asking me to call him to go out. More happened, I won't divulge that here though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In addition, there are a couple of more guys, 24 and 23 as well. My friend L.C. is all for it but I tell her that I have my reservations about younger guys. They tend to party too much, to want to do the same things I did at that age and that I am now beyond. I don't judge them at all, hell, I did it. My reservation is that they are probably not for me precisely because of being at that stage. L.C. says that I am "thinking too much" and that I should "go with the flow and enjoy myself". Why make something serious before its time. My thoughts are simply why waste my time. Ugh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is in addition to a guy that chatted me up on the subway on Friday and a person I once had an encounter with who invited me to his barbecue party on Monday and was affectionate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, seemingly, the Mojo is back. Let's hope it lasts!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-114900951497828854?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/114900951497828854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=114900951497828854&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/114900951497828854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/114900951497828854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/05/mojo.html' title='The Mojo...'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-114866141286492684</id><published>2006-05-26T11:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T15:19:55.523-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Dinner</title><content type='html'>Last night I had dinner with my friend H.P.  H.P. and I met a couple of years ago and he has become a true friend, those you know will be lifelong.  H.P. is sophisticated, articulate, intelligent and funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a great conversation and a good time just hanging out.  His partner wasn't able to join unfortunately, work got in the way. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;H.P. said that I seemed to be doing well.  I'm glad to see that it is starting to show and I'm not the gloomy old me I was a couple of months ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feeling refreshed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-114866141286492684?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/114866141286492684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=114866141286492684&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/114866141286492684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/114866141286492684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/05/dinner.html' title='Dinner'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-114849957707490242</id><published>2006-05-24T15:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T15:19:55.433-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Second Chances?</title><content type='html'>At one point while I have been living in New York, I gained a lot of weight.  My highest ever, at 194 lbs occurred in the summer of 2003 as my most recent relationship came to pass.  Depression, sadness, work, stress, anxiety and implacable loneliness were all addressed with food.  Once my waist line began inching to the 36" mark, I realized it was time to take action.  Dieting began and by the winter of 2004 I had lost 25 lbs.  During that time, I met various guys.  Very few of them progressed passed the proverbial cup of coffee or first "date".  I attributed it to incompatibility or lack of chemistry, either on my part or theirs.  After they each waned, I really didn't make an effort to carry on a friendship thinking that if they too had an interest, they would make an attempt as well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Following that 25 lbs loss, I gained back 5lbs, completely within range.  Flash forward to May 2006.  I have lost another 15 lbs from January to the present, weighing in at my all-time lowest.  Size 31 waist, very slim, features that have become pronounced and angular; the camera is loving me and I'll tell you why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have profiles on &lt;a href="http://www.connexion.org"&gt;Connexion&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.friendster.com"&gt;Friendster&lt;/a&gt;.  I meander on them see if there is anyone that catches my attention and, sometimes, send them a message.  Hell, isn't that what those sites are for?  Well, as of late, and as a result of my new pictures, several of those guys I once met or went out on one date with (and by several I mean more than 4) have looked at my profile in the past couple of weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They have also e-mailed me to compliment me on my pictures and "new" looks and see if I would be interested in getting together, for a drink, you know?  It's flattering, yes, but at the same time I wonder... why have I all of a sudden become worthy of their attention.  A couple of years ago, they actually met me face to face and moved on.  Clearly, they didn't find me attractive, intelligent, smart or funny enough.  So, why am I now worthy of their attention?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The truth is, I am not interested because I feel that all of a sudden the interest (whether it be for a friendship or romantic in nature) is misguided and superficial.  Now that I'm not the "ugly duckling", what type of people do I want to associate with.  The people that know me or the people that like the way I look (and may or may not know me). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll take the former.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-114849957707490242?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/114849957707490242/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=114849957707490242&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/114849957707490242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/114849957707490242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/05/second-chances.html' title='Second Chances?'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-114830854015493174</id><published>2006-05-22T10:34:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T15:19:55.371-04:00</updated><title type='text'>An Ever Present Absence</title><content type='html'>I received over the weekend an e-mail from a dear friend back home. We do not speak often or communicate frequently, our lives have put us on busy and differing paths. However, he is a guy that came into my life and has remained present in it, despite time and distance. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently, G.R. broke up with his partner of 4 years.  A very dramatic relationship, I heard through mutual friends that things had not been good for a while and that it was most likely they would end their relationship.  Incredibly, I never met G.R.'s partner, as I had already moved here when they began dating.  By all accounts, his partner was nothing to write home or elsewhere about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;G.R.'s e-mail informed me of his move to a new apartment, the start of a new life on his own, the 30+ lb weight loss and other things.  I responded letting him know I was delighted to hear from him, to know that he was moving on and that he had lost the weight he had gained. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;G.R. responded that evening, and as I read, I felt a twitch of nostalgia and a pinch in my heart.  He said (translated) that despite the distance, I was a person what was ever present in his life and he wanted me to know that I am important to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish we could all, and I include myself, take the time in our busy lives to tell those that are important to us just how much impact they have in our lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-114830854015493174?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/114830854015493174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=114830854015493174&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/114830854015493174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/114830854015493174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/05/ever-present-absence.html' title='An Ever Present Absence'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-114769798845445244</id><published>2006-05-15T08:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T15:19:55.263-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Reading Kick</title><content type='html'>Late to join the bandwagon, I recently picked up "&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://search.barnesandnoble.com/booksearch/isbnInquiry.asp?z=y&amp;isbn=0316776963&amp;amp;itm=1"&gt;Me Talk Pretty One Day&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;" by David Sedaris. More out of a need to sit down and read something rather than to follow a trend, I began one evening a nice journey. The book was short-lived, I devoured it and, as I did, was reminded of so many things in my life. I think that Sedaris has, what one friend calls, a keen eye for what is obvious. His writing is not earth-shattering, it isn't a discovery proper, but more an ability to focus on those small things that we pass on lightly as we grow. We forget and fail to pay attention to them as more "important" matters take over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Following that, I went on a shopping spree and have purchased his other books and will begin shortly reading them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the interim, I am loving Jhumpa Lahiri's "&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://search.barnesandnoble.com/booksearch/isbnInquiry.asp?z=y&amp;isbn=039592720X&amp;amp;itm=1"&gt;Interpreter of Maladies&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;", it is bittersweet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-114769798845445244?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/114769798845445244/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=114769798845445244&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/114769798845445244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/114769798845445244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/05/my-reading-kick.html' title='My Reading Kick'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-114769795703259929</id><published>2006-05-15T08:58:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T15:19:55.197-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My (Growing) List of Pet Peeves</title><content type='html'>I try to keep an open mind about the people I meet.  I attempt to not keep steadfast rules and, in doing so, have realized that some things I thought I disliked, can actually be attractive to me.  However, there are certain things I just cannot tolerate.  Herein follows a list of such things:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; 1. Men who wear socks with sandals; Men who wear gym socks with dress shoes.&lt;br /&gt; 2. People who enjoy chewing their gum with their mouths open, similar to cows grazing.&lt;br /&gt; 3. People with poor dental/oral hygiene.&lt;br /&gt; 4. Lack of basic table manners.&lt;br /&gt; 5. Chewing with mouth open.&lt;br /&gt; 6. Burping (in front of people); if inevitable, failing to excuse oneself for so doing.&lt;br /&gt; 7. People who do not think before they speak and gravitate towards stock phrases:  "I'll call you", "I am so stressed out", etc.&lt;br /&gt; 8.  Lazy people.&lt;br /&gt; 9. People who drink too much or whose only idea of fun is drinking.&lt;br /&gt;10. People who lack the courage (i.e., balls) to be honest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;True, some of them are quite generic, but if the red flag goes up, I am learning to just move on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-114769795703259929?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/114769795703259929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=114769795703259929&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/114769795703259929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/114769795703259929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/05/my-growing-list-of-pet-peeves.html' title='My (Growing) List of Pet Peeves'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-114729084539793213</id><published>2006-05-10T15:54:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T15:19:55.130-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Another one bites the dust</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About two weeks ago, as I was walking home from dinner at Wallsé, I discovered a new bar in my neighborhood, Mr. Black. I walked in, had a drink and then headed home. As I crossed Broadway, I bumped into an acquaintance (V.R.) and his friend (T.M.). We conversed briefly, the usual pleasantries. As I was bidding them farewell, T.M. insisted I join them. There was a trace of a sparkle in his eye.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Quite a strapping fellow, blue eyes, dark brown hair and tall, I thought that he was decidedly too young. I thanked them and then headed home.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;Monday, I attended the Lambda Legal Liberty Awards dinner, a gala fairly attended by the legal community. V.R. was there, as was T.M. and we ended up bumping into each other and talking once more. T.M. seemed to show interest and I thought perhaps this is something I can entertain. After the dinner and the cocktails, T.M., and M.I. (also there) and others ended up going out to a bar and T.M. insisted I go. I did and we had a drink and a pleasant conversation. He wishes to go to law school, is working as a legal assistant, hails from New York. Seems like a nice guy. I decided to leave as it was getting late and T.M. said he too was leaving.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;I thought we would each take a cab home, say our goodbyes and perhaps talk the next day, as we had both exchanged cards. T.M. decided we should take a cab together and so we did. As we dropped him off at the corner of 29th and 2nd Ave, T.M. turned to me and kissed me, a long, deep kiss. I hadn't expected it, but wasn't opposing myself to it when it happened. He got out of the cab and we said goodbye.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;At this juncture I thought that he liked me and would probably accept a date, so I thought to myself that I would call him the next day and ask him out to dinner for Saturday. I arrived home and as I was settling in, received a text message from T.M., to which I responded and then went to bed.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;On Tuesday, I called T.M., and got voicemail. Remember my history with voicemail: I hate it. I left him voicemail and he didn't respond until the evening (I was in the subway, so he left voicemail). I returned the call and we had a brief conversation and then he said that he needed to be honest. He is dating someone, and although it hasn't arisen to the level of commitment, he&lt;br /&gt;felt it wouldn't be right to not disclose that. By the same token, he said he couldn't expect me to just wait around to see if things didn't work out with this person (I thought that was a little too forward looking and presumptuous). Finally, he said the dreaded "I would love to be able to hang out with you though". I told him that he had my number and could call if he so desired. I&lt;br /&gt;wished him luck and we then hung up.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;If you are dating someone in whom you are interested, don't kiss other guys.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-post"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-114729084539793213?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/114729084539793213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=114729084539793213&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/114729084539793213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/114729084539793213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/05/another-one-bites-dust_10.html' title='Another one bites the dust'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-114728521454254562</id><published>2006-05-10T14:18:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T15:19:54.985-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A sentiment</title><content type='html'>Empty words,&lt;br /&gt;Hollow thoughts,&lt;br /&gt;these are your sustenance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Weapons of candor and&lt;br /&gt;meaningless insights,&lt;br /&gt;the journey to their significance is lost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-114728521454254562?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/114728521454254562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=114728521454254562&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/114728521454254562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/114728521454254562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/05/sentiment.html' title='A sentiment'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-114719059368885833</id><published>2006-05-09T12:02:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T15:19:54.776-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Today's Words of Wisdom</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.tarot.com/go/google-ig/rss-horo-dailyhoroitem/?sign=aries" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Although yours is the sign of self-determination, the focus in your life is currently on your relationships. Both personal and business relationships might feel a bit strained, but this isn't necessarily a real crisis. More likely, a string of minor annoyances makes you aware of what's not working, rather than what is. There may be nothing to do about it and nothing to fix. Remember that circumstances are in a state of flux.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday, May 9, 2006&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I already knew that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-114719059368885833?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/114719059368885833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=114719059368885833&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/114719059368885833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/114719059368885833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/05/todays-words-of-wisdom.html' title='Today&apos;s Words of Wisdom'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-114710458825269937</id><published>2006-05-08T12:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T15:19:54.715-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Weirdness becomes me.</title><content type='html'>I curse my own stupidity.  Saturday morning, a call, V., M.I.'s friend.  Dinner Sunday, his place, he and his boyfriend (J.) are cooking and would I mind lending them two folding chairs.  8.00 p.m., bring a bottle of wine.  M.I. is coming with F.A., the guy he has been dating.  Cringe.  Don't go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday, M.I. calls.  Going to dinner tonight?  My response, I'm not sure, I may just stay home and relax.  No, he says, you should come, it will be fun.  As an afterthought, with a hint of warning, he mentions that he will be going with F.A. and that I will get to meet him.  Cringe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;V. stops by with J. to pick up the chairs and insists I go.  I succumb. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M.I. and F.A. arrive half an hour after I do.  F.A. turns out to not only be quite attractive, but nice.  M.I. seems nervous and misplaced, almost a character from a Woolf novel.  A little anxiety or anticipation, nervousness or awkwardness.  I feel slightly more confident.  Empowered even.  A sense of security is exuded.  I become funny, sarcastic and lively.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then, M.I. asks what I think of F.A., whilst F.A. is seated next to me.  It perhaps was not so much the question, but rather the manner in which it was asked.  A slight grasp of the shoulders from behind, a breath on my neck, a whisper in my ear, a squeeze of my shoulders.  And no answer.  A faint "he's nice"; but no honest assessment.  A desire of distance and space.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dinner carries on as I am enveloped in thought and emotion.  I observe F.A.'s hand gently caress the back of M.I.'s head.  Compunction.  The thought flashes through my head.  Why am I undeserving of having someone.  The thought was not "Why does M.I. have someone", but questioning my self-worth, yet again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The conversation carries, I continue lost in thought.  I feel the weight of a stare.  F.A. is observing me as my eyes had begun to glisten.  I turn.  The stare is broken.  I quietly say my goodbyes, thanking the hosts for a lovely evening.  M.I. obsequiously says farewell, a hug, several kisses, a squeeze and another embrace.  The sense of artificiality too overwhelming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I slowly make my way home and think of R.G.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-114710458825269937?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/114710458825269937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=114710458825269937&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/114710458825269937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/114710458825269937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/05/weirdness-becomes-me.html' title='Weirdness becomes me.'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-114676816348984323</id><published>2006-05-04T14:27:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T15:19:54.648-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Reading</title><content type='html'>I recently bought the book "&lt;a href="http://search.barnesandnoble.com/booksearch/isbnInquiry.asp?z=y&amp;isbn=0385334583&amp;amp;itm=1"&gt;Giovanni's Room&lt;/a&gt;" by James Baldwin on the recommendation of this &lt;a href="http://shadesofgray.typepad.com/shades_of_gray/2006/04/giovannis_room.html"&gt;blogger&lt;/a&gt;. I must say, I was, am, happy to have read it. Lately, my reading has dwindled: dating, work, exhaustion; all have contributed to my decline in reading habits. But something about the post made me want to read the book. I felt drawn to read it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amazingly, I finished it relatively quickly (it is not a long book by any stretch, I was just able to focus on reading it within the constraints of work, sleep and other activities).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is saddening. Not just because of the ending, of which we are made aware of in the first couple of pages of the book, but rather because of that certain and well-known state of human affairs when we, as individuals, are unable to express our true selves -- and not in the trite, cliche-ish sense of the phrase -- and share our feelings with and for those persons that come into our lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That inability is a prison without bars, a painstaking way of semi-living. I truly cannot fathom not communicating our feelings, it seems to me to be the natural and instinctive manner in which to relate to other people and, perhaps, the reason why I bore of conversations that center on the banal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, David, the principal character in the book, is unquestioning of himself and his orientation; not unnatural when we first realize our attraction to the same sex. But his path is one of sadness and self-destruction. He lacks the desire to live fully, to love and to be loved. Like many people I have known. But why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-114676816348984323?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/114676816348984323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=114676816348984323&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/114676816348984323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/114676816348984323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/05/reading.html' title='Reading'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-114719453136135613</id><published>2006-05-04T13:08:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T15:19:54.913-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Thursdays @ Therapy ("T@T")</title><content type='html'>Last Thursday, I had my weekly therapy session. I have been in and out of therapy many times, for varying reasons: parents' divorce; sexuality; suicide of a teenage friend; stress; etc. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The purpose of my sessions is to figure out those patterns in my behavior ("schemas") that are self-perpretuating and adverse to my happiness.  Sometimes, the session involves the use of imagery to pinpoint a feeling or sensation and understand it better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During my session, the image that came to mind on my feeling lonely was that of me, as a child, sitting at my desk, doing my homework assiduously.  My mother was in her room, watching TV, my brother downstairs playing around and avoiding his duties and my sister in her room in her crib, asleep.  I sat there, practicing my penmanship, to get it perfect.  Writing, erasing, re-writing, erasing.  It had to be perfect.  I was alone and felt the void.  The void that continues to this day.  I am searching to fill that void by doing what is expected of me by my parents, my superiors and even the most unimportant people in my life.  Then... and now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The name of the schema is subjugation: an inordinate need to please others while sacrificing oneself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a child, all I can remember is trying to always make those around me happy and to be pleased with me.  So now, my imagery shows precisely that, my desire to please my parents by being the dutiful son that did his homework and was responsible, while just wanting to be a kid.  I feel like I have been an adult since I was 6 or 7.  That's a tall order.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm rambling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-114719453136135613?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/114719453136135613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=114719453136135613&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/114719453136135613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/114719453136135613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/05/thursdays-therapy-tt_04.html' title='Thursdays @ Therapy (&quot;T@T&quot;)'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-114661875304420458</id><published>2006-05-02T21:08:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T15:19:54.578-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What the F**K?</title><content type='html'>So, a day or two ago I e-mail a guy on &lt;a href="http://www.connexion.org"&gt;Connexion&lt;/a&gt; with an e-mail saying "Hi, great profile, take a look at mine and e-mail me if you would like to start a conversation."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He responded that same day. The next day he deleted his profile. What the F**k? I am convinced I have this effect on people. One e-mail and profile deleted... &lt;a href="http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2005_10_01_gaymanjourney_archive.html"&gt;I must have this effect on people&lt;/a&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Help!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-114661875304420458?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/114661875304420458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=114661875304420458&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/114661875304420458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/114661875304420458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/05/what-fk.html' title='What the F**K?'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-114658654350698373</id><published>2006-05-02T12:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T15:19:54.508-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Today's Horoscope</title><content type='html'>With the Moon moving through your 4th House, your moods may shift several times throughout the day. You could be uncertain about how you should respond to a situation that's unfolding in your life. Your head tells you one thing, but your heart has a different agenda. As much as you want to be understood, be careful not to overwhelm others as you seek emotional support.&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday, May 2, 2006.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmmm....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-114658654350698373?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/114658654350698373/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=114658654350698373&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/114658654350698373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/114658654350698373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/05/todays-horoscope.html' title='Today&apos;s Horoscope'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-114653044088227170</id><published>2006-05-01T20:34:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T15:19:54.440-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Movies</title><content type='html'>I am a big movie fan. Lately, I really haven't been feeling the urge though to go out to the movies. Mostly because many of my friends don't enjoy it as much as I do and see the idea of going into a theater for 2 hours as a waste of time when there is "so much to do".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, in that vein, I have become more of a DVD person, subscribing to &lt;a href="http://www.blockbuster.com"&gt;Blockbuster Online&lt;/a&gt; and setting up a queue of movies I want to watch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, before my friends arrived for another dinner I cooked for them, I started watching Shopgirl, which I finished moments ago. I was impressed with the humanity of the characters and their weaknesses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Steve Martin is both afraid of falling in love and at the same time, desiring a part of Claire Dane's character as a cautionary measure of not letting go and being hurt. In the end, he says that he misses her, although he kept her at bay in order to never have to miss her. Powerful and bittersweet, but marvelous nonetheless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so buying it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;p.s.  I actually do, on occasion, go to the movies alone, but doing it all the time takes the fun out of some of it too.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-114653044088227170?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/114653044088227170/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=114653044088227170&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/114653044088227170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/114653044088227170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/05/movies.html' title='Movies'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-114609261875591823</id><published>2006-04-26T17:49:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T15:19:54.310-04:00</updated><title type='text'>*Sigh*</title><content type='html'>It has been quite a week, busy with work and all.  After a nice and calming weekend in which I attended two parties, Monday felt like payback for an enjoyable weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At Saturday's party, I actually met &lt;a href="http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/04/not-so-anono-anymore.html"&gt;C (a/k/a "Secret Squirrel Agent 000")&lt;/a&gt;, an incredibly smart and wonderful person and her husband (a very, very smart guy).  We had a fascinating conversation on the crossroads of economics and psychology, the "rationality" of consumers and meditation.  You know, your typical New York conversation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a blast at the party and so told S.  It was a lot of fun.  I met one of S's friends, a very nice chap, handsome, engaging, funny and slightly giddy.  He was very kind and prepared me a drink and we started a conversation and throughout the evening continued bumping into each other and talking.  He seemed like a nice guy, the type I might (may) pursue.  The one if is that he does not live in New York.  I have always thought that long-distance romantic relationships are difficult.  Then again, I thought tattoos were unattractive (and dated a person who had one and found it so sexy).  I guess I will just try not to think too much or overanalyze as I tend to do.  Maybe my therapist will have some insight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for M.I., we had brunch on Saturday and all is back to normal, thankfully.  He is even telling me about a guy he likes and his sort of dating.  I do the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-114609261875591823?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/114609261875591823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=114609261875591823&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/114609261875591823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/114609261875591823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/04/sigh.html' title='*Sigh*'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-114591706916466918</id><published>2006-04-24T18:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T15:19:54.250-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Just can't get this one out of my head</title><content type='html'>So, I loved the song "Beautiful" by James Blunt.  So what, mainstream has influenced my musical tastes, shoot me.  In any event, only a week ago did I decide to buy the album at Tower Records.  I thought, what the hell, maybe the guy is actually talented. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have listened, over and over, and over again, to the album and downloaded it to my nifty little iPod.  But there is one song that has gotten to me and I cannot get it out of my head.  It's entitled "Goodbye My Lover".  These are the lyrics which I have found quite powerful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Did I disappoint you or let you down?&lt;br /&gt;Should I be feeling guilty or let the judges frown?&lt;br /&gt;'Cause I saw the end before we'd begun,&lt;br /&gt;Yes I saw you were blinded and I knew I had won.&lt;br /&gt;So I took what's mine by eternal right.&lt;br /&gt;Took your soul out into the night.&lt;br /&gt;It may be over but it won't stop there,&lt;br /&gt;I am here for you if you'd only care.&lt;br /&gt;You touched my heart you touched my soul.&lt;br /&gt;You changed my life and all my goals.&lt;br /&gt;And love is blind and that I knew when,&lt;br /&gt;My heart was blinded by you.&lt;br /&gt;I've kissed your lips and held your head.&lt;br /&gt;Shared your dreams and shared your bed.&lt;br /&gt;I know you well, I know your smell.&lt;br /&gt;I've been addicted to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye my lover.&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye my friend.&lt;br /&gt;You have been the one.&lt;br /&gt;You have been the one for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a dreamer but when I wake,&lt;br /&gt;You can't break my spirit - it's my dreams you take.&lt;br /&gt;And as you move on, remember me,&lt;br /&gt;Remember us and all we used to be&lt;br /&gt;I've seen you cry, I've seen you smile.&lt;br /&gt;I've watched you sleeping for a while.&lt;br /&gt;I'd be the father of your child.&lt;br /&gt;I'd spend a lifetime with you.&lt;br /&gt;I know your fears and you know mine.&lt;br /&gt;We've had our doubts but now we're fine,&lt;br /&gt;And I love you, I swear that's true.&lt;br /&gt;I cannot live without you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye my lover.&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye my friend.&lt;br /&gt;You have been the one.&lt;br /&gt;You have been the one for me.&lt;br /&gt;And I still hold your hand in mine.&lt;br /&gt;In mine when I'm asleep.&lt;br /&gt;And I will bear my soul in time,&lt;br /&gt;When I'm kneeling at your feet.&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye my lover.&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye my friend.&lt;br /&gt;You have been the one.&lt;br /&gt;You have been the one for me.&lt;br /&gt;I'm so hollow, baby, I'm so hollow.&lt;br /&gt;I'm so, I'm so, I'm so hollow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;©2004 Custard Records&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, call me a romantic, but this pretty much sums it up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-114591706916466918?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/114591706916466918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=114591706916466918&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/114591706916466918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/114591706916466918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/04/just-cant-get-this-one-out-of-my-head.html' title='Just can&apos;t get this one out of my head'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-114564947452160519</id><published>2006-04-21T15:38:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T15:19:54.174-04:00</updated><title type='text'>One of the gayest things ever...</title><content type='html'>I have a running list of activities I would like to do.  Each year, as it begins, I write out things I haven't done that I would like to try to accomplish.   This year's list is quite extensive and more keeps getting added on as the days go by and ideas creep into my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, for example, this year I proposed to go to the gym and to lose weight.  Both are being accomplished, I have lost 15 lbs since January 1 and have been keeping regularly scheduled appointments with the trainer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In addition, I penciled in the following activities:  learn to scuba dive, learn to sky dive, do bungee jumping, go to a shooting range, try a cheese tasting at Artisanal, take up Tae Kwon Do again.  So far this year, I already learned, and got certified in, scuba diving.  Yippee!  Any divers out there?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did that back in March, took a week off and went to Grand Cayman.  It was a fabulous trip, ate like a king (lost one pound though!) and learned to Scuba.  The experience was amazing and I am glad I finally did it.  Plus, I do feel proud of myself for setting a goal and accomplishing it.  That, and I have opened up new horizons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple of years ago, I took a wine tasting class (quite lengthy, it was an eight-installment course, two hours each installment).  I met my dear friend L.C. at that course!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, my list for this year has shortened since I have checked off Scuba Diving.  Instead of now concentrating on the additional activities I have set up for myself, yesterday, as I was reading &lt;a href="http://www.timeoutny.com"&gt;TimeOut&lt;/a&gt;, I read an article on p 56 of this week's edition (551) on "Zen and the art of flower arranging".  Now, I am adding it to the list.  Now remember, it is a running list and I can (and have) carried activities over to the following year.  But the thought of actually learning to make a floral arrangement for my home is something I think would be novel and calming at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is, however, one of the gayest things ever, but maybe it will be a venue for a creative side in me I don't know exists?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-114564947452160519?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/114564947452160519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=114564947452160519&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/114564947452160519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/114564947452160519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/04/one-of-gayest-things-ever.html' title='One of the gayest things ever...'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-114564583076464647</id><published>2006-04-19T14:54:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T15:19:54.112-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Recognition</title><content type='html'>I am receiving an award next week for my work and contributions in assisting a client to apply for political asylum in the United States. The organization giving me the award is the organization that referred my client to the firm I work at.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first, I reacted negatively to the thought of receiving an accolade. A variety of reasons jumped to mind: we have not yet filed the documents to the case; I am just doing my job, what anybody else would do; I am no more special than the 100s of other attorneys that do pro bono, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It really wasn't until yesterday evening that I started to look forward to the event (scheduled for next week). I have never been good with compliments, they make me inherently uncomfortable. It turns out that because I feel "unworthy" and "defective" I have trouble accepting a compliment or an award.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I have decided to embrace the opportunity and accept that sometimes, I do deserve to be recognized for something. We'll be filing papers for my client soon and I hope we get asylum quickly, for his good sake. He is an angel and has taught me a lot. His life puts me and mine in such utter perspective.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-114564583076464647?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/114564583076464647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=114564583076464647&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/114564583076464647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/114564583076464647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/04/recognition.html' title='Recognition'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-114538940341388437</id><published>2006-04-18T15:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T15:19:54.049-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Feeling The Pangs of Indifference</title><content type='html'>Slowly, frustration and resentment begin to transform into indifference. Indifference is not a bad thing. It is a distance sufficiently removed from a person, an object or a thing so as to feel neither good nor ill will. WordNet defines indifference:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;"&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;indifference &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;n &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;1: unbiased impartial unconcern&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;2: apathy demonstrated by an absence of emotional reactions [...]&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;3: the trait of lacking enthusiasm for or interest in things generally [...]&lt;br /&gt;4: the trait of remaining calm and seeming not to care; a casual lack of&lt;br /&gt;concern [...] &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a class="small" title="Click for more information about this dictionary" href="http://dictionary.reference.com/search?q=00-database-info&amp;db=wn"&gt;Source&lt;/a&gt;: WordNet ® 2.0, © 2003 Princeton University"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mother and father had a very troubled marriage. Nowadays, my mother would be considered an abused wife. We, in turn, children of an abusive father, physically and verbally. My mother's fortitude following the end of that marriage, and her courage in finally breaking free, are something I have always respected and admired. She married at 22 and says that during her marriage, she just didn't know better. In some remote part of myself, I feel pity for her not knowing better. We appear and represent ourselves to be such strong, courageous, self-assured individuals that it is almost incomprehensible why one would put up with treatment like that she endured.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then, I look at myself and feel much the same pity I have, on occasion, felt for her. I am no weakling, no push-over. Or, is that how I think of myself? Why has my tolerance level not been breached yet with R.G. and the other men I have dated? I by no means intend to equate what my mother went through with my experiences with these guys, but ultimately, the underlying reasoning is much the same. If a person does not treat you in the manner you need and expect, aren't you, in much the same way, accepting and condoning some form of mistreatment?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am terribly saddened that things with R.G. didn't work out. For many, many reasons. I thought that he could be part of my life in a grander scale; he had what it takes. For some reason or another, he didn't feel that with respect to me. And sometimes, you just can't explain your reasons. The reason's of the heart are sometimes inexplicable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But following our not working out, R.G. has adopted, in my view, a very questionable manner of comporting himself. To ignore a person, avoid them, fail to respond to a call or a message, is rude. That rudeness may not necessarily be intentional in and of itself, but rather a form of eluding the issue in hopes the matter will go away, but it is still perceived as rudeness. It is sad that things could not have been handled in a more civilized fashion because I would have loved to have him in my life as a friend, if nothing more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so, as time goes by, I am beginning to feel indifference grow in me. I don't feel ill-will towards R.G., I don't feel like embracing him to show some modicum of affection. I am just seeing another human being, like countless others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mother is, as you may well imagine, a wise woman. Following her divorce, she did feel resentful, spiteful and, perhaps, even hatred towards her ex-husband (ok, ok, my father). But, with time, she grew indifferent. She summarizes it well, with a brush of wisdom: the opposite of love and affection is not hatred. Hatred demonstrates that one still has feelings for a person, albeit negative. The opposite of love and affection is indifference; the lack of any feelings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-114538940341388437?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/114538940341388437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=114538940341388437&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/114538940341388437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/114538940341388437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/04/feeling-pangs-of-indifference.html' title='Feeling The Pangs of Indifference'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-114521551223231255</id><published>2006-04-16T15:16:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T15:19:53.916-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Communication Isn't a One Way Street</title><content type='html'>I attempted calling R.G. on Friday, twice. I ended up leaving voicemails that went along the lines of the following:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hi R.G., it's A.B., I was hoping we could chat. Give me a call when you have a chance. I hope all is well".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;followed by&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hi R.G., I called you because I hoped we could talk. I was hoping we could be friends but I have this sense that you have been avoiding me and all. It's been a bit awkward lately, but if you think we can be friends and would like that, let me know, one way or the other. You know where to reach me. Take care, A.B."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought, at worst, R.G. can at least maintain a friendship, but I think that even that is dashed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have not received a response to my voicemails. One would think that communication is the basis for any form of a relationship. But, R.G. has been reticent to communicate anything. I am perplexed.  Or perhaps, not perplexed, but realizing that R.G. handles ending a relationship by not looking back or not attempting to keep the good or recover what is recoverable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A.B.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-114521551223231255?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/114521551223231255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=114521551223231255&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/114521551223231255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/114521551223231255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/04/communication-isnt-one-way-street.html' title='Communication Isn&apos;t a One Way Street'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-114504476252531284</id><published>2006-04-14T15:54:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T15:19:53.854-04:00</updated><title type='text'>How Does One Read Between the Lines</title><content type='html'>I had that conversation with M.I. last night, in the middle of the hustle and bustle of Blue Ribbon Bakery and on the walk home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently, I am just not good enough at reading between the lines. Quite simply, M.I. loves me like he loves any other friend. The late night calls to say he is safely tucked into bed, the invitations to have dinner with him, the confidences and conversations, the holding of my hand, the use of an affectionate "pet" name, the utterance "I love you", etc. are all friendly things with no ulterior motives. This is fine with me, as I had not built up any expectation given our past history and his candor on Monday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amidst my prevailing sentimental and emotional confusion (not attributable to M.I.), the last thing I want to deal with is a person that only complicates my life and doesn't really add much to it. Yes, M.I. is a form of company/companionship, but so is my dog. And my dog is, at least, unconditional.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A.B.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-114504476252531284?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/114504476252531284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=114504476252531284&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/114504476252531284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/114504476252531284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/04/how-does-one-read-between-lines.html' title='How Does One Read Between the Lines'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-114480894442214469</id><published>2006-04-11T22:08:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T15:19:53.787-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I Had A Bad Day</title><content type='html'>Seemed to be going well, was in fairly good spirits and ended up going to the gym.  My New Year's resolutions this year included, among others, losing more weight and going to the gym.  I hired a personal trainer and have been assiduous about my appointments (two a week) and trying to go on my own to do some exercise.  It seems to be working.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I attend the same gym R.G. goes to.  I have been a member for about 3 years and had stopped going and then decided to start going as part of my resolution.  In addition, it is the "gayer" of the gyms in the city, so, it is refreshing to see more gay guys and serves as an incentive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This evening, I got out relatively early from the office and went to the gym.  I didn't expect to see R.G. as he had told me over a week ago he would be away this week on business, so I didn't think much of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I arrived at the gym, changed and headed up to start weight-lifting.  Half way through my routine, I saw he was there and eventually he walked by, sufficiently far away that it wasn't really necessary to say hello.  He did, however, seem to look in my direction twice.  I was listening to my iPod and lifting away, so I didn't interrupt to say hello or wave a hand.  Since I had this sensation that he has been avoiding me (I had asked him out over a week ago, he said he would get back to me, he didn't follow up, I e-mailed him and he cancelled without offering a raincheck), I didn't really make an effort to say hello.  It seemed like he was leaving, so I thought ok, now that's over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He ended up coming back up to do cardio and we inevitably saw each other, so it was a forced hello.  I felt uncomfortable because, although I am hurt, I certainly still have feelings for the guy.  It is an extremely difficult situation for me that I simply do not know how to graciously handle without coming across as rude or impolite or spiteful.  I was walking towards the water fountain and just lifted my hands and said hello with my eyes.  I didn't know if it was appropriate or not.  I then returned to finish my abdominals and on the way back, saw him again on the treadmill, so I walked up and said hello and asked "How's it going", at which time he removed his head phones.  I repeated "How's it going", he faintly said "ok" and I said, "Well, gotta go".  It was awkward and uncomfortable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw him again in the locker room as I was drying my hair and we barely acknowledged each other.  I got dressed and left while he was probably showering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it all boils down to not having had any form of closure.  My therapist says that although closure is a nicety, we aren't necessarily entitled to it.  Although that may be true, sometimes one good punch is better than several small ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Funny, I haven't really mentioned my therapy here before.  I sort of felt it was a form of weakness or mental debility.  I have been going for some time now and the underlying theory is that we all, to lesser or greater degrees, have behavioral patterns that we sometimes are not aware of and that reverberate in our lives.  We tend to repeat that with which we are comfortable, almost inevitably with the same exasperating results.  I've pinpointed some of my patterns but have had trouble correcting them.  Part of the process is, precisely, to write out what it is that affects me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I try to convince myself that R.G. has already abandoned me.  Abandonment is one of my greater fears, it traces back to an absent paternal figure, people coming and going in my life with no permanence &lt;em&gt;in&lt;/em&gt; my life and a perceived abandonment of my mother, who always saw me as the stronger child that didn't need supervision or nurturing.  Ouch.  So, with R.G., the fear was that he would not be a part of my life. Now that that result has materialized, I should be able to move on.  My greatest fear is present and I am still here.  If it hasn't killed you, it will make you stronger.  But, I am constantly reminded of R.G. (and I constantly remind myself of R.G.) and that does not help to move on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt embarassed and ashamed today when I saw him, and I do not know why.  Why should I be ashamed or embarassed?  I think I feel that I screwed it up.  In the sense that I had someone good (or that I thought was good at the time) and sabotaged it.  I guess that is something I will need to think about heartily in the days to come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alas, it wasn't the best of days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-114480894442214469?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/114480894442214469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=114480894442214469&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/114480894442214469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/114480894442214469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/04/i-had-bad-day.html' title='I Had A Bad Day'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-114477179691488295</id><published>2006-04-11T11:41:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T15:19:53.671-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Not Suprisingly</title><content type='html'>Remember M.I.? Let me refresh your memories: &lt;a href="http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2005/06/hope-is-last-to-die.html"&gt;1&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2005/07/honesty-is-it-best-policy.html"&gt;2&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2005/07/oblivion.html"&gt;3&lt;/a&gt;. M.I. recently came back into my life, with all the issues going on with R.G., I didn't put much stock in M.I. and thoroughly convinced myself and told myself over and over, don't fall prey again to your emotions. M.I. was making it clear we were friends and I was entirely fine with that. I was well aware of his shortcomings and had no intention of getting swept in. Fine, dandy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently, M.I. has been inviting me to his place (three times now) to watch Desperate Housewives on Sunday night and have dinner. Fun, innocent, something friends would do. I was happy to go as I enjoy the show and had fun just shooting the breeze. On one occasion I met his friend, V. V. just started a relationship with some guy. The second time I went over, V. was there and incessantly asked M.I. and me why we weren't dating. After responding concisely to his questions, he continued to badger us with more questions. The evening was completely awkward because it is precisely a topic I did not want to revisit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the evening was coming to an end, V. and M.I. dropped me off at my apartment as they were heading to a bar in the Meatpacking District. As I was saying my goodbyes, I recalled how much I didn't appreciate M.I.'s intense partying and drinking and how that made me feel insecure, the partying and meeting guys, hook ups and late nights. It was a passing thought the moment M.I. pecked me on the lips as he has done as of late (and appears to do with his friends generally) and said "I love you". As I was metaphorically picking myself up off the floor I had no ready response. I looked at him and said, "Well, have fun at the [bar]. Good night." This came out of left field.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I walked back to my apartment, I wondered, perhaps he just meant "I love you... like a friend" or "I love hanging out with you" which would have been fine. But "I love you", those are words one does not use lightly. So, I thought, perhaps M.I. has developed feelings for me. Time has gone by, we have hung out as friends (i.e., without any expectations or pressures) so, quite possibly, he felt a twitch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I won't say that this did not have its impact on me, it caused me to wonder. On advice of a third party, I decided not to call him and wait it out, perhaps have a face-to-face talk and figure out exactly what was meant by that utterance. I tried to talk about it at one point, albeit over the phone, but he skirted around the issue. I thought, OK, I won't push this and let it be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We saw each other Saturday at a party and didn't speak or interact much. Bad sign I thought. Sunday rolled around, Desperate Housewives again (but it was a repeat so we didn't watch it). V. was there with his boyfriend. V. said that M.I. is the type of guy who likes what he can't have, and the minute it becomes available, he loses interest. Light banter, slight discomfort. Bad sign I thought. Monday came and at 5, a call, "Any plans for dinner?". Now, at this precise moment, my better judgment hollered "don't do it"... "Sure, 8 p.m. ok?". Insta-dinner plans at 8 it was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For other reasons, I was in a quite cheerful mood as I walked into the restaurant and spotted M.I. As I sat down, I engaged in idle conversation and inquired about his night out and his Monday off (he didn't go to work). In less than 3 minutes, I learned that M.I. had gotten home after 5 a.m., had attempted to pick up a guy to take home with him but was cut-off by a third guy that took his guy out from under him and that at the gym that afternoon, a guy masturbated in the shower with the door ajar for his viewing pleasure. This guy is such a keeper. I will not pass judgment on M.I. for what he chooses to do, I can only say that this is definitely not the type of person I would like to have in my life as a partner. I have enough problems as it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After those 3 minutes, I felt an impulse to stand up, say good night, and go home, make up some phoney excuse... a bad case of diarrhea coming on or something. But, I thought that would be too rude and stuck it out. I had a great meal for $22 (wine, appetizer, main) and then walked home. As we said our goodbyes, M.I. said he would call me the next day and the following message flashed by in my brain "that is a call you will let go to voicemail".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-114477179691488295?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/114477179691488295/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=114477179691488295&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/114477179691488295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/114477179691488295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/04/not-suprisingly.html' title='Not Suprisingly'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-114470555617304051</id><published>2006-04-10T17:29:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T15:19:53.609-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Not So Anono Anymore</title><content type='html'>I have been discovered! I must say that this blog has been mostly an exercise for me in writing out my feelings. Seeing them in black and white (or 1's and 0's) has helped me assess the varying situations in my life while preserving some degree of anonymity and receiving the occasional feedback from those that comment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unbeknownst to me, one of my internet profiles contains a sufficiently catchy phrase that when searched leads the searcher to my blog thus allowing an individual of sufficient and voracious intellect to put 2 and 2 together and discover my true identity. Alas, my cover is blown! So here goes a shout out to S. and to his friend C (hi C!). They are, to my knowledge, the only two persons who know who I truly am. S. has been sworn to secrecy (are you reading this S.?) and, by proxy, C.!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The funny thing is, S. knew about this blog before he and I met and as things were falling apart with R.G. So, he had an advantage over me in knowing about my prior history with R.G. and the emotional fall-out that ensued. I must say that despite having this knowledge, S. acted like a true gentleman and never brought it up during the times we met. Today, while we spoke over the phone, S. revealed to me that he knew about the blog. Yes, I was a bit startled, but thought that in all, it was funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I recently went on a trip to the Caribbean during which I had much time to think about my emotional state relating to R.G. and my meeting other people. S. was one guy I had met a couple of times prior to my trip and is a genuinely nice guy. In addition, we have an acquaintance in common. My conclusion during my trip was that I wasn't ready to put myself out there again and that it was not fair or proper to meet people because I could inadvertently lead them on. I guess I need to straighten many things out (Why do I want to be in a relationship? Why do I fear abandoment? Why do I have trouble trusting those persons I am emotionally involved with? etc.).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After coming back, I met with S. to tell him that, unfortunately, I was not (am not) over R.G. and was not ready to meet someone else and give them a chance. S. was extremely understanding and we have since then been in contact. Some good things do come from dating :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I wonder, will R.G. have read this? Or M.I? Uh oh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, anyhow, I promised S. he would make a guest appearance in the blog. Perhaps he'll even comment (anonymously).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-114470555617304051?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/114470555617304051/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=114470555617304051&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/114470555617304051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/114470555617304051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/04/not-so-anono-anymore.html' title='Not So Anono Anymore'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-114167008011959924</id><published>2006-03-06T13:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T15:19:53.489-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Art...</title><content type='html'>I marvel at how some artists are capable of nakedly exposing their inner most turmoil in unidimensional fashion.  This weekend, I went to MoMA to see the Edvard Munch exhibit.  He painted "The Scream", a riveting representation of psychosis. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The exhibit should not be missed as it assembles a variety of the artist's works and gives us more than a glimpse into a life of angst and pain.  Most fascinating of all is the "Sick Child and Mother" (I believe this is the title).  The mother's pain and the child's innocence are confounded and heartgripping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Get thee to MoMA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-114167008011959924?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/114167008011959924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=114167008011959924&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/114167008011959924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/114167008011959924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/03/art.html' title='Art...'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-113995061844638364</id><published>2006-02-14T15:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T15:19:53.428-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Loss...</title><content type='html'>Mourning is not for death, it is for loss.  And loss comes in many shapes and sizes.  I think that one of the most beautiful poems relating to loss is Funeral Blues, of W.H. Auden.  It is a powerfully succinct description of what loss is:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;Funeral Blues &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,&lt;br /&gt;Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,&lt;br /&gt;Silence the pianos and with muffled drum&lt;br /&gt;Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead&lt;br /&gt;Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,&lt;br /&gt;Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,&lt;br /&gt;Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;He was my North, my South, my East and West,&lt;br /&gt;My working week and my Sunday rest,&lt;br /&gt;My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;&lt;br /&gt;I thought that love would last for ever; I was wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;&lt;br /&gt;Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;&lt;br /&gt;Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood,&lt;br /&gt;For nothing now can ever come to any good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;W. H. Auden&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope you enjoy it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-113995061844638364?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/113995061844638364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=113995061844638364&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/113995061844638364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/113995061844638364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/02/loss.html' title='Loss...'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-113986912136479366</id><published>2006-02-13T17:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T15:19:53.368-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Reality Has Settled In...</title><content type='html'>Timing, it just can't be manipulated. Sometimes, things are cosmically meant to be, at others, no amount of effort will conjugate two diverging paths.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;R.G. and I are in absolute limbo. I am ready and willing to talk about something more substantive and serious, whereas R.G. says that the serious conversations we have been having have instilled in him fear and a desire to place distance between us. His fears of commitment and of intimacy (talk about timing, he just logged on to IM as I am drafting this) seemingly outweigh by far any benefit I may contribute to him and to his happiness. Essentially, I am not fitting into the equation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel resentment and sadness, for it appeared to me that we not only were equals with many interests in common, but that there was also that ever so elusive and hard to define "chemistry". I am at a loss to understand why on Earth someone would allow themselves to miss out on forming a bond with someone they have stated, time and again, is perfect for them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend, L.C. wrote this to me today:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Big hug to you my dear dear friend. You are the most generous soul that I know and I love you for it. I am sorry that some of my advice sounded harsh today but I hope that you know that it came with the best place possible and with much love and care. Me hearing your stories has made me more sad as it reminds me of where I was a month ago missing the way things used to be with [her guy]. It has taken me longer than I ever thought to "get it" and as sad and heartbreaking it may be right now, it is something that will also put you in a better position. I feel much better for having moved on as you can not make someone care or give you more than they are capable. Sadly for R.G., he is missing out on the best thing that has happened to&lt;br /&gt;him. It is definitely not about you as you are beautiful and wonderful on many levels - please don't ever second guess that! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Love you heaps,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;L.C."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;She is such a wonderful friend.  I wish she were a guy sometimes.  I am deciding that I must make the effort to move on. I am, finally, after 2 and a half years, ready for a serious relationship. If the person I wish to form that bond with is not emotionally available and able to do so, I can't sit around and wait to see if he, at any time, will be ready. If the future holds him to be present in my life, it will happen. For the time being, I will need to move on.  Now to actually do the moving on.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-113986912136479366?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/113986912136479366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=113986912136479366&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/113986912136479366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/113986912136479366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/02/reality-has-settled-in.html' title='Reality Has Settled In...'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-113874074949433006</id><published>2006-01-31T15:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T15:19:53.307-04:00</updated><title type='text'>State of Uncertainty...</title><content type='html'>There is possibly nothing worse than being in a state of uncertainty. To relinquish or to lose control of one's destiny (or what one thinks one is destined to do) has grave implications on your footing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;R.G. and I have had a difficult time recently. His issues about relationships, commitment and intimacy are at the forefront right now. He is deathly afraid of being hurt and suffering another romantic loss. At the same time, he insists, I am perfect for him. Why, even his therapist seems to agree by his own admission. So why hold out? I truly have never understood human nature. Chimeric as it is, and whimsical as we may be despite our rationalizations, we inevitably falter in attempting to grasp at its foundations. Wittgenstein said it best when he referred to each mind being a universe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you like someone, are attracted to them, why not take the leap? Haven't we always pulled ourselves up from a break up and, eventually, moved on? Ultimately, any relationship has an emotional price tag to it; no guarantees. Why would you allow that "risk" to prevent you from getting to know and perhaps at some point forming a more enduring connection with someone you find attractive and "perfect"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For me, that is precisely what makes many gay men jaded: the inability to look at their past and the associated baggage as an experience but not a limitation on their future relationships. Once you become limited or allow yourself to be limited, you become jaded. I've always thought that we all have baggage... some of us know how to pack more neatly than others, that's all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;R.G. and I had had plans on Sunday to have brunch with friends of his and hang out. I called him on Sunday morning but did not hear back from him after our morning conversation. At 7pm, I received a text message with a lengthy message and an apology for not calling. I fumed. How dare he treat me so disrespectfully and with such blatant disregard for my time. I decided not to call him or respond and do so when I was more level-headed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Monday, he called me in the late afternoon to apologize and to say that he had spent his entire hour with his therapist talking about me. She told him, if nothing is wrong with him (me), what's the problem R.G.? I told R.G. that it seemed to me that he needs space and that I would let him decide if and when he would like to go out and see me or communicate since I had evidently overwhelmed him with my affections and kindness. As a result, I relinquished control and ceded it to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say I am heartbroken on many levels. Suffice it to say, deep down, you know when you have met someone you know you can forge something meaningful and lasting. R.G. was the second person in New York who has (or had?) that potential.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alas, I now must hold tight to my promise and wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.B.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-113874074949433006?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/113874074949433006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=113874074949433006&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/113874074949433006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/113874074949433006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/01/state-of-uncertainty.html' title='State of Uncertainty...'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-113789822514012201</id><published>2006-01-21T21:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T15:19:53.244-04:00</updated><title type='text'>That Romance...</title><content type='html'>That romance has gone well. R.G. and I had a fundamental misunderstanding on whether we were exclusively dating or not, for I had misunderstood when he said back in December that he wasn't going to be dating anyone else that it meant he wanted to be exclusive. Why else would he forgo dating others if not only to date me? Well, given his new job and bouts of unavailability, we had a conversation last week in which he explained that by dating me, he was not prevented from going on a date or being introduced to other guys by his friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, suffice it to say I welled up, for I thought we were on a more serious level than that. The blow was hard and I have now realized that part of the enchantment has been lost only because of this event. However, I have not given up hope but am now understanding that he and I are dating (going out continuously) and that we will see how things progress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week R.G. and I had dinner with a beloved friend of mine to commemorate her birthday and celebrate. R.G. was funny and even joked about his other "dates", saying that he would let me know when he was on one. I didn't laugh, but when he said that he couldn't help but think of me when he had been on a date, I felt pangs of bittersweetness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, one week later, we had brunch at his place with his friends, the married couple. We had a great time, but now I am not sure whether we are dating or whether we are just hanging out. Perhaps, somewhere, he may be thinking, this guy is too intense for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although a little of the enchantment is gone (it always does tarnish a little), I am hopeful that R.G. and I will continue to go out and get to know each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time, and only time, will tell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A.B.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-113789822514012201?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/113789822514012201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=113789822514012201&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/113789822514012201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/113789822514012201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/01/that-romance.html' title='That Romance...'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-113622154367095954</id><published>2006-01-02T12:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T15:19:53.180-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy New Year</title><content type='html'>Happy New Year to all!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A.B.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-113622154367095954?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/113622154367095954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=113622154367095954&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/113622154367095954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/113622154367095954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2006/01/happy-new-year.html' title='Happy New Year'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-113598216435947914</id><published>2005-12-30T17:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T15:19:53.097-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Absence... it makes the heart grow fonder</title><content type='html'>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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't wait to see him on January 3, 2006.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is going to be a New Year for sure (for me).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A.B.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-113598216435947914?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/113598216435947914/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=113598216435947914&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/113598216435947914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/113598216435947914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2005/12/absence-it-makes-heart-grow-fonder.html' title='Absence... it makes the heart grow fonder'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-113537408828171499</id><published>2005-12-23T16:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T15:19:53.032-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Whirlwind Romance II</title><content type='html'>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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can this be "L"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A.B.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-113537408828171499?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/113537408828171499/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=113537408828171499&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/113537408828171499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/113537408828171499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2005/12/whirlwind-romance-ii.html' title='Whirlwind Romance II'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13336840.post-113353713766701882</id><published>2005-12-02T10:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T15:19:52.967-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Whirlwind Romance?</title><content type='html'>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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have tried various internet sites for dating (not the hook-up type), such as &lt;a href="http://www.match.com"&gt;Match.Com&lt;/a&gt;. 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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A.B.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13336840-113353713766701882?l=gaymanjourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/feeds/113353713766701882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13336840&amp;postID=113353713766701882&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/113353713766701882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13336840/posts/default/113353713766701882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gaymanjourney.blogspot.com/2005/12/whirlwind-romance.html' title='A Whirlwind Romance?'/><author><name>Anono.Blogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11308552998335356682</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
