I know I'm cute. I don't think I'm handsome. And I'm okay with that.
But I do love receiving compliments, especially when they come from good-looking strangers. It suddenly puts on a lot of weight. It's one of the many superficial things that never fails to put a smile on my face. Man, I'm so shallow! Well, at least I'm honest.
I get compliments often. I hear a lot of "You are so cute" or "You are so adorable", but never "You are so handsome". I heard the H word being said to me in San Francisco quite a bit. This weekend, I heard the H word quite a bit too: at a house party, in a restaurant, in a club, even in the street.
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Here's some of the highlights:
A week ago at the airport coming back to Toronto, a female security officer looks at my passport picture then coldly asks that I take off my sunglasses. I oblige. Just as I do, she blushes almost in awe: "Wow, you're so handsome."
It was unexpected so I gracefully give her a nod of thank you. Off I go with the biggest smile in the world.
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On friday night, I took my good friend, Scuba, to a downtown restaurant. While showing him pictures of San Francisco, a young & attractive woman on the next table taps me on the shoulder. I look her way and so does Scuba.
To Scuba, she says: "Your friend here is so handsome. You two make such a great couple!"
I'm quick to reply: "Thank you. But we're just friends." The young woman apologizes, but again compliments that I'm just "so handsome".
How is one supposed to react? Seeing that I don't get a scene like this often, I say: "Oh thank you. Please don't stop. Keep the compliments coming." We laugh together.
Afterwards, Scuba whispers to me: "How can she compliment you and not me? Bitch!"
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Zipping past Church street yesterday afternoon, still nursing a hangover from both Friday and Saturday night, I walk pass a bar with a huge window where four (maybe five) lesbians are shouting enthusiastic commentaries to passer-bys.
I was cautious, so I gave no eye-contact. Hopefully they won't notice me. Looking ahead, I hear one of the girls yell: "Hey!...Hey!" From the corner of my eye, I see one girl squarely pointing her finger at me. I hear one of the girls take note of my tattoo. I hear the H word, and then I hear another girl scream out the 'S' compliment.
I'm "sexy"? Hmmm. Wow. For that brief moment, the girls seemed to go crazy. I had no choice but to look back and see their smiling faces. They're probably drunk I pressume. But I nod back in acknowledgment.
Since I got back from out west, the mass inquiry is constant: "Did you have fun? What did you do?"
My short answer became: "Had lots of fun. Did everything."
For the first few times, it was a fun reminiscing question to answer. But the repetition became annoying. I wanted to write about my adventures. It might have to wait until I calm down.
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SUBMISSION #8
This is Sissy Spacechik. When I got his email, Sissy asked me to be "nice" to him. I was dumbfounded as I have followed his blog almost from the very beginning. I have nothing but great things to say about this hot flight attendant. I'm more than willing to stick my tongue in kiss his ass.
Aside from giving us an insight to the worldly adventures of his job, one of the things that make Sissy's blog special is his audacity to be downright honest with himself. He even writes: "Without the work I fear I'm terribly boring, humourless." - May 24, 2004
Another reason I tune to Sissy's blog is the way he gives us a very human account of his lasting partnership with his boyfriend: the flaws, the turbulence, and the loving instances. It's not easy exposing one's vulnerabilties for all the world to judge. And for that, he has received some nasty hate mail. ***(To D: I heard it through the grapevine.)***
Anyways, send him some love. He really needs it especially as of late as he contracted chicken pox from one of the passengers. He does have a request though: "I like pictures. ANY KIND OF PICTURES... just give me something to do.....please!."
It's 3am and I'm still wide awake. I guess I'm still on PST time.
On an unrelated matter, I am quite the carnivore. I love my chicken. I have something I call "protein day".
Around 11am, I buy a whole cooked chicken. I slowly consume it. By the time the clock strikes 3pm, it's all skin & bones and I would have disposed of the carcass diligently.
I was feeling silly one afternoon a few weeks back and decided to take pictures of the chicken at my desk. Beware, these pictures are not for the weak-kneed and only for serious carnivores. lol.
I left sunny California having had the time of my life - only to be welcomed by an angry thunder storm in Toronto.
After three and a half hours of being stranded, first inside the plane and then at the airport, I wasn't bothered one bit... YET! After feeling so "high", I expect a bit of depression to set in the next few days.
So here we go again. Another submission to the SHOWER room gallery.
Also, a few have pointed that I should be fair and post my own submission. I will comply with your request, so it will be coming. Stayed tuned. In the meantime, I'm off to a little two week road trip driving along the pacific coast highway. I'll periodically check in the SHOWER room. I will post from time to time, (predominantly travel pics I suspect).
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SUBMISSION #6
A view from above the showerhead, meet Panchesco. I'll refrain from using his first name. Panchesco has a striking set of eyes. It's quite distinctive. And, he his a matching full set of (unwaxed?) eyebrows and facial hair that nicely compliments his face.
Panchesco was hesitant with submitting a shower pic as he claims he would "usually sizzle and melt into a pile when wet". Besides those eyes, I'll tell you what's so sexy about this guy. He has such a wonderful sense of humour. And that is a VERY sexy quality, and always a turn-on. To me, sense of humour is what differentiates hot guys from attractive guys.
And...I'm crazy about the way Panchesco pokes fun at himself, showing off his goofy fun-loving side. (I especially dig his Zorro eye-mask). Totally hot, him and his (inconsistent) west-coast tan.
There's also his photo archives - catch a glimpse of the beautiful people he encounters, alongside other fellow bloggers. If you're familiar, you might be able to pick off those western bloggers one by one.
I have a to-do list before I leave town in less than two days. On an errand run late last week, I find myself exiting out of the Queen street subway station. Up two sets of escalators, I ended up in the men's department trying on the best pair of jeans that has ever showcased my ass. Wow. I really like their stuff. It fits me well and they're fairly reasonably-priced too.
Out came the credit card.
It's hard to tell from pictures sometimes, but you have to come meet me in-the-flesh in order to do a touch/feel firmness test. You can tell I did lots of squats last week, baby!
So what is it with my recent butt-pic postings? You like? I thought so.
I've been quite busy. Will be updated later today. In the meantime, I forgot to mention that I put up a guidelines page for showerroom pic submissions. Check it out.
So... with all this talk of Loneliness, this is my testimony on "the bigger picture". I wasn't just pouring my heart out for nuthin'.
The blogdom universe is littered with so many fascinating individuals who dress their sites with laughter, sex and fluff. But from time to time, they also share their humanity. For brevity's sake, I can't list them all:
There's the bright sunshine, Snacky, who is a tad younger but is seven-fold more accomplished than I. Like myself, he has indulged. He partied with his liver, and he has pursued varied roads: travel, sex, religion, to name a few. Recently, he has encountered a brick wall. "I'm looking for something. For what, I don't know. I just want to be impressed. I need to be. Please..." - April 27, 2004
And then there's Sissy Spacechik. He has been with his partner for 12 years and has also encountered a brick wall. "Why am I not sexually attracted to him?...I want it to, but I have no idea how... I think that's wrong. It can't be like this for the rest of my life; or can it?" - April 21, 2004
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To Snacky: Would it comfort you to know that even the most accomplished of individuals encounter the same brick wall? "There's nothing more depressing than having everything, and still feeling sad." Janet Jackson confesses this on her record, The Velvet Rope.
To Sissy: Relax, babe. This is normal. There's lots of psychological-monkey-sex mumbo-jumbo experiments that address this. After 12 years, what you're feeling is inevitable. It's hormonal more than anything else.
And to give you my take to your question on whether this monotony of life will persist, I'd like to give reference to one of the most touching films I saw in 2003, Lost in Translation. When a lonely married woman, Scarlett Johannson, establishes a bond with an older married actor, Bill Murray, she asks him if married life gets any easier. First, Bill nods no. He contemplates, and then says yes.
After 26 years, I don't think life will get any easier or any better. Perhaps, it's premature of me to be dispatching statements of this nature. I have to appreciate this brick wall for what it is. And then, be comfortable with embracing this certainty. I've come to the conclusion that only I am responsible for my own happiness.
There, that's my big revelation. Perhaps you were expecting something a tad more profound. Or maybe, this is profound on its own.
Can I enjoy this emptiness that I feel? Hey, I'm a natural optimist, so I'll be fine.
After my weekend of introversion, I awoke on a curious Monday morning. For some reason, I find myself smiling with that glimmer of hope I'm aware strangers and acquaintances usually see in my eyes.
To break the tone of the previous posts, here is another submission.
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SUBMISSION #5
Meet Corin, AKA The Corky. I've been a fan of this blogger for the last half year. I think it's because he's so secure with himself. That's the impression I get when I read his words. And, ofcourse I just think he's so damn handsome. Sigh.
Did I mention he was a porn star in movies in the past? Err... maybe I'm not supposed to... tsk tsk tsk. Anyways, Corin actually sent me a few photos. The ones you see here are pre-cropped already... My my - if you could only see what the uncropped version looks like... I feel so priviledged as I think wet t-shirts are such a turn on, especially when a beautiful specimen like Corin is wearing 'em.
With denial, emptiness, abandonment, then comes desperation.
It's easy to fall into all sorts of temptation that bring about temporary happiness. I see it, it's so accessible: sex, drugs, alcohol... the things people do to avoid loneliness.
Recently, I was asked this question over the phone by someone I see myself falling in love with (if I give in). But he is so far away. 'Are you okay?' He asks.
Damn right I'm okay! I'm in the right circumstance to easily fall into infatuation. I mean... it's inevitable!
I have this belief that one magic component to finding love is by having a small portion of loneliness in your heart. That's when a person, such as I, become receptive and open to emotions. It goes both ways though: either love or hate.
It's been some time since 'loneliness' has shown its' face. This emotion is suddenly so alien to me. The last time I felt this way was a year ago when things didn't end well with a guy I cared for very deeply. At the time, I felt lonely but I was never alone. I had great friends who supported me.
This time around, it's different because on top of emptiness, there's abandonment. When the two closest people in my life for whom I had been their constant rock of support, detaches themselves from me, I feel...
I haven't done anything wrong. It's just that people grow & people grow apart. The path of struggles that my two closest friends are heading is towards a different direction away from me. That's okay. Maybe I'm "too happy" for them. Friends this good will always care for each other regardless.
I usually deal with loneliness by keeping busy. As I pointed to my friend Scuba: sometimes when you're lonely, you don't even know it. It's like being happy. You don't know that you are having the time of your life until the emotions pass. Recognition is not immediate. But unlike Scuba, I decided to embrace these emotions head-on. This past weekend was an introspective introvertive exercise. I wanted to get at the heart of the truth and turn it into gold. The last time I did this, I came away with much creative angst. I started painting nine self portraits, one after the other. That was February 2003. I haven't had the same creative drive since.
So, I was hopeful. It did give me some clarity. It made me think of my current relationships and the rich histories I have with my close friends.
I never felt much need to go outside my circle of friends. But looking back at old posts of my old blog, this whole scenario has been escalating for the last half year. I didn't even realize it. Ultimately, this void manifested itself in the form of this blog.
Facial.
New haircut.
New shirt.
New pajama bottoms.
Coconut Cream Pie ice cream.
Relaxing on my bed.
Four lit candles.
Peach-tea scented incense.
Tory Cassis on the stereo.
All self-indulgence.
I don't feel guilty. After all, I am the most important person in my life. Why shouldn't I keep rewarding myself?
After awhile though, it gets boring. A curious emotion surfaces: 'Emptiness'.
I went out with *Scuba* a few weeks ago. He wanted to see my new place, and catch up on things. We went to LUB.
Amidst the loud music, Scuba's cellphone rings. He picks up. "Shit, I shouldn't have picked up." He tells me it was Shy Guy, the boyfriend. Apparently, when Shy Guy found out that Scuba was out and about in the village, and of all people, with me, Shy Guy ditched his friends and rushed to LUB to check up on us. I can't really blame Shy Guy. I'm bad influence. (Here's why... though Scuba has never really come out with the full truth to Shy Guy. It was just a kiss... wink wink.)
Anyways, our night of potential fun ended abruptly. Shy Guy leaves us but not before instructing Scuba to meet him at his bed later. On the car ride back to my place, I let it all out.
I told Scuba that he's not stupid, and he had known for over a year that Shy Guy is not the guy for him. He agreed. I went further to say that deep down, I know he's feeling lonely, that Shy Guy is his safe haven for attention and "love". I felt he is still with Shy Guy simply because he doesn't want to be alone. "It's okay." I assure him. "it's not a crime."
Loneliness is similar to happiness in some ways. Often, you don't know that you're having fun until it's over. I tell Scuba 'this' loneliness is not over that's why he hasn't realized that he has actually been lonely. I didn't expect him to agree with me as he's been in denial for some time. But he did. I was merely relaying an observation.
Just as he nod in agreement, he gave me a quick hug and booted me out of his car. I was standing in front of my building like a lost puppy, watching him drive away. I think he has had enough of my "talk". It wasn't incessant or overbearing, just the truth.
And sometimes, the truth hurts.
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I haven't heard from Scuba in two weeks. I fully expect him to still be with Shy Guy. Aw, the things people do to avoid loneliness.
So here's the dealio: I need a new alias. The consensus is that DTB sucks. You don't have to tell me this. My creative juices has run dry for a distinctive yet catchy name.
He suggested 'WK' as in 'Wet Knickers'. I thought it was cute, but I was worried that it might be a tad perverse.
He suggested something along the lines of 'Sponge Bob Square Pants'... That's another cute name. But the word Sponge is so undesirable. Sponge the Mighty? The Mighty Sponge?
What about 'GNC'? Guy with Napoleon Complex. Hmmmm...
God, help me find an identity!
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SUBMISSION #4
Meet Mike, a veteran blogger. From his site, it's evident that he's developed quite a following discussing Broadway, Playbill headlines, and NYC life specifics..... on occasion some porn talk. Assessing the look of his site, I presumed Mike was quite the conservative. But as he assures me...
Do not be fooled by his baby face. Like Britney, he's not so innocent. He sent me shower pictures at 5 o'clock in the morning.
Less than 24 hours earlier, I asked this eloquent 27 year old a for shower pic. He was quick to reply that he didn't have anyone to take pictures of him getting wet. A few hours after that, I receive another email. Apparently, he invited an amateur shutterbug to his place for the night. (Do tell us what happened, Mike! LOL.)
Mike was going for that grin of "innocence" on the above picture. I think it was well captured. But as he points to me, it was "ironic given what was going on behind the scenes".
I have a to-do list before I leave town in less than two days. On an errand run late last week, I find myself exiting out of the Queen street subway station. Up two sets of escalators, I ended up in the men's department trying on the best pair of jeans that has ever showcased my ass. Wow. I really like 
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