twenty-something

Anyway, I went to Linens & Things the other day, shopping around for a new comforter, and there I was confronted with THE NATE BERKUS COLLECTION. So the dude is hot -- kinda looks like the dad from Gilmore Girls, who was in that gay movie with that guy from Melrose Place -- and his picture is all over the place. And then it turns out his stuff isn't so bad.

In fact, one thing in particular was so not bad that I obsessed about it for a few days. A "coverlet" -- whatever that means -- in "Rust" (looks orange to me). Said "Rust coverlet" had been in my thoughts since Saturday, so today I took a trip back to LnT and picked up this "Queen Coverlet":

Yelli, my bed is orange now. When are you coming back to Vermont so you can sleep in it?

Now I'm not the biggest theater fag at all so, really, I have no idea what I'm talking about. But I did like this show. A lot. It's the story of an up-and-coming Hollywood star who falls for a (straight) male hustler (with a girlfriend) while in New York to accept an award, a story as told by the star's hilarious agent and beard. I suppose the show says a lot about what it means to be a celebrity and/or a homosexual in the world today, but it really shines when it's about these two men -- the movie star and the hooker -- falling into something. For a play with such a superficial synopsis, there's a surprising amount of heart and humor.

The movie star is played by Neal Huff, whom I also saw (also naked) in Take Me Out a couple years back. I enjoy this guy -- he's got a good everyman sorta presence (even when playing a celebrity). Plus he's got a hot hairy chest and a cute butt. Speaking of naked -- the hustler is played by Johnny Galecki, best known for playing Darlene's boyfriend on Roseanne, and you get to see his (enormous) penis in this play. (Sadly, you don't get to see Neal's.) The nude scene comes after a lot of build up and it's titalating and well deserved. Even when these guys aren't naked, they're sparkling on stage, especially when together. They're both funny, (mostly) sweet, charming, sexy, and heart-breaking.

Aside from the love story here, the highlight of the play is Julie White (whom you may recall from Six Feet Under, or as Nadine from Grace Under Fire). She's the acid-tongued agent and would-be narrator. She's vicious and hilarious throughout the entire play, sometimes vulnerable, always spiteful, and often evil. She's amazing. Loved her! Forget the cock, I would see the play again just to see her.

The set is really well done and the music fits well (it's not a musical at all -- it's just like interludes between scenes). The play's only weak spots may be it's semi-quick finish, which would feel very contrived if we didn't live in a post-TomKat world. The end worked well, very well, but I would've liked another scene or two. And the actress who plays the hustler's girlfriend was cute and funny, but sort of paled compared to the rest of the cast (which probably isn't the actress' fault -- it could just be the character).

Second Stage is a cool theater, too. Very orange. And Randy Harrison, Justin on TV's Queer as Folk, was sitting a couple rows behind me.

What an exciting night at the theatre!

The Little Dog Laughed is at the Second Stage Theatre until January 29th. It's 20sum Approved -- so go see it if you can!

I'm back in Vermont. The house is quiet, lonely. Even the dog is mellow, not demanding any attention tonight. I thought I'd dig having the place to myself, but after a social long weekend in Boston, I'm not eager to sleep alone -- be it alone in my bed, or alone under this roof.

It was a fine trip to Beantown, full of holiday-flavored Starbucks drinks, futher shopping procrastination, and even more beer that usual. Thursday I spent as I planned -- in a self-imposed exile. I spent it alone, in town, without my usual support or defenses. I strolled the streets solo, ate by myself, and ended up in my comfy hotel bed before midnight.

Friday was spent out and about, some of it in frigid rain, much of it with my ex-boyfriend. Ended up in Fanieul Hall that night for dinner and drinks with a few quality folks, including said ex and his older brother. A slightly awkward night saved by a decent cover band at Paddy O's. Straight people are so weird.

So I did see Brokeback Mountain on Saturday with Yelli, Natalie, and Matt. We chased that with dinner at Fire + Ice (yum), sipping caramel apple martinis and sitting next to a plump, odd British woman whom we dubbed "Nanny 9/11" (That one's for you, Nat.). With full bellies, we ended up an odd house party in Somerville (where I got to see a few familiar faces, ones I don't see very often these days). Got back to my hotel at 4AM. Ugh.

I'm a tired boy this evening, but it was worth it. Good times.

So here are five quick thoughts on the much-hyped cinematic event of 2005:

1.) Harvard Square is a cool place to see a movie, but the seats suck. My butt was numb before any on-screen buttsex -- and that's no good.

2.) I need to get this out of the way next: seeing The Princess Diaries' boobs was disturbing. Very, very disturbing. In fact, anytime Anne Hathaway (Lureen) was on screen, was I was fighting hard to suppress giggles, even in her final, powerful scene. Giggles. I think it was all of the ridiculous hairstyles. And that Disney thing, too. (See also: 2005 Guide to Modern American History As Told Through Anne Hathaway's Hair in Brokeback Mountain - via towleroad.)

3.) Everybody else can go on about Jakey (so over him, the actor) and Ledger (so powerful, the actor as Ennis). They rocked. The film was breath-taking with the two leads together on screen. But how about the supporting cast? I thought everybody put in stellar performances -- despite the fact that the female casting in general was distracting for me. Besides Princess Diaries (as I mentioned above), you have powerful parts played by actresses best know for very silly parts -- on Dawson's Creek (Michelle Williams), and in Scooby Doo (Linda Cardellini) and Scary Movie (Anna Farris). They all did great -- especially Williams (ex-Jenn) and Farris (in a brief-but-delightful surprise cameo) -- but the giggle factor, which not as high as it was for Hathaway, was always in the background for me.

4.) I'm shocked that I haven't seen more blog-ink spilled over David Harbour, who plays Randall Malone (Anna Farris' husband). Granted, he only shows up in one scene, but he's a fairly important character -- and really, really cute. Considering the gay blogs that I read (check the blogroll), I'm really surprised that I can't recall a single mention of this hunky, bearded man (on the right, clean shaven). He was much hunkier than Jake and Heath (but maybe that's just me). He looks kind of like a lost Fisher brother from Six Feet Under. I hate when people say "woof" about hot scruffy guys -- really, really hate it -- but Harbour kinda makes me want to say it. Is that a good thing? (Anybody have any other pics of him?)

4.) The hype -- and expectations that come with it -- will ruin this movie for many folks. It didn't ruin it for me, but it might have.

5.) The two straight women in our party were the ones crying. Heartless Matt was dry as a bone. My eyes were misty and I shed a single tear. I wanted to be sobbing. I wanted the film to take hold of me, bend me over and make me it's bitch, but it didn't. It was emotional, powerful, really good -- but it just didn't hit me the way I wanted -- expected -- it too. Ultimately, I found Annie Proulx's tale in its original, print form to be much more affecting. Is it because I'm a reader? A writer? Because of The Princess Diaries' tits? I don't know. But I read the story three times in the past week. I cried the first time. The film is effective and well-done, remarkably faithful to the original material -- but the prose, man. You gotta read the prose.

Alright. It's time to sleep.

Apparently a gay kid in Bethel, Vermont gets made into a jock. (Well, if playing soccer makes you a jock, then I was a gay jock in high school too.) And, supposedly, this ep is inspirational.

The kid's big brother was Dunc's floormate in college. And it's a small world afterall.

MTV, always good at reruns, is playing the show again tonight at 8PM, tomorrow at 4PM, and Wednesday at 6PM. I think I may have to watch it.

[Via Towleroad.]

Today I was send the photo above (and this story) from the parade. The photo had also been published on the cover of Vermont's little-gay-paper-that-couldn't, Out in the Mountains. If you care to play "Where's Waldo?" for a moment, you'll notice that hidden in the picture is not only a soaking-wet and frumpy-looking me, but my soaked-and-skinny teenage brother.

The kid ended up on the front of the gay newspaper just weeks before he began his freshman year of high school at a private Catholic academy, weeks before he began football practice, and he was completely unfazed. My family also, apparently, appeared in footage on the news that night, and my sister was very upset that she didn't get to see herself marching in the gay parade. But she told all her friends.

I love those kids. I think overall I'm proudest to be related to them.

Futher proof that, regardless of how mature and thoughtful I pretend to be, I am really a third grader at heart:

"You see?" said Dumbledore quietly, holding his wand a little higher... "You will not object to getting a little wet?"

"No," said Harry.

"Then take off your Invisibility Cloak -- there is no need for it now -- and let us take the plunge."

- Harry Potter & The Half-Blood Prince, pg. 556

My New nickname is Captain Freaky A. Moronville.
Take The Third Grade Insult Generator today!
Created with Rum and Monkey's Name Generator Generator.

Happy anniversary, Vermont Civil Unions.

Guys... I think I may be a hetero... *burp*

Two years ago, when I first discovered Friendster, I commented that they should combine it with Manhunt to make Trickster. It appears that we're one step closer to my dream of the future.

iTrick is a program that gay boys can use to keep track of, well, their tricks. This is no joke or *ahem* trick -- this is a real program that actually has a lot of fun and useful features. Enter in all your past, present, and future men, rate them, detail your encounters with them, attach photos, and so much more.

Disturbing? Yes. Practical? Maybe not for somebody in Vermont with a boyfriend-type-person. But for the sluts in more urban areas? Start keeping track now.

Here's an official description:

Do you meet guys online and hookup with 'em?  Ever lose track of 'em?  Ever figure out that you're talking to the same jerk that wasted your time a few months ago?  Ever have a bro ask if you want to hookup again and you can't remember who the hell he is, or what he looks like, much less if he was any good at it?  If you can answer yes to any or all of these questions then iTrick is for you!

Maybe I work and live in too-P.C. of a place, but after a slight chuckle in spite of myself, I found myself fairly offended -- but more so, interested in learning more about this particular controversy. In my undergrad, I did some work in media studies, particularly relating to images of gay people and Asian people, and especially the intersection of both. So I'm finding this subject quite facinating.

The Advocate has an interesting piece in it's March 15 '05 issues by John Caldwell called "Invisible no more: It's been a year since an offensive feature in Details inspired unprecedented activism and visibility among gay and lesbian Asians. So how much has really changed?" It's well done and really through provoking. An excerpt:

That invisibility is one reason both gay and straight Asians were outraged by Details magazine's "Gay or Asian?" stab at humor. When Wong first saw that April 2004 feature he was offended but not surprised by the sarcastically captioned photograph of a young, spiky-haired Asian man dressed in metallic shoes and a V-neck T-shirt. Portrayals of Asian men as sexually ambiguous or purely feminine are still quite common, he says: "This is an issue that the gay Asian community has faced time and time again. There's so much ignorance."

Nearing the one-year anniversary of the Details article, Wong says little has changed for gay Asian people. Yes, studies have been done and pro-Asian programs implemented, "but there's still a lot of work to be done. We need to really speak out on our own invisibility."

Glenn Magpantay, cochair of Gay Asian and Pacific Islander Men of New York and a staff attorney with the Asian American Legal Defense and Education Fund, agrees. He helped organize a high-profile protest outside the Details office in Manhattan that resulted in a full-page apology from the magazine. "[But] we are still finding homophobic articles in the Asian-language press and anti-Asian caricatures in the gay media," he says.

The Details controversy did shed light on the pervasive stereotypes and general lack of positive representation that Asian men continue to face. Despite the success of gay Asian stars like Alec Mapa and B.D. Wong, "gay Asian men are still not perceived to be popular," says Lee, who has featured young gay Asian characters in his independent films Drift and Ethan Mao.

The WOW Report has a funny post on the real reason Ken and Barbie split. So wrong, yet so funny. Check it.

Yeah, I'm being tounge-in-cheek. But it helps.

AICN reports that there's an "Ambiguously Gay Duo" feature film in the works. Remember them from SNL?

In my search for more info, I found this fun little "interview" with the cast of the upcoming "Strangers With Candy: The Movie" (which I am so jazzed to see).

Gotta love that Amy Sedaris...

Polo shirts. Rugby shirts...

My obsession of the moment (and I do mean moment, as I have just been stuck on this idea for about thirty minutes) is gay mens rugby.

Oh, yes. For the uninitiated, there is such a thing. And, apparently, it's big in Boston. There's a real team, the Ironsides, and its all gay guys. And they play for real. This totally rocks. And, apparently, there's a whole gay sports community in town (PrideSports Boston). Who knew such things existed?

The city is a place of wonder and magic, and I am a wide-eyed country mouse.

Anyway, I was "recruited" for the team on one of my visits to "Boys Town" in Boston last February. Well, let's just say some of the guys were there, and they talked to me, and were disappointed I didn't live in town. (I was so flattered that I carried around their business card for about nine months until I finally took it out of my wallet not long ago.) And I suddenly realized, today, that I could be living in this magical, wonderful, gay-jock city this year!!

So I visited their website today. It's filled with pictures of cute men, camaraderie, acceptance, and open-mindedness. (They even start their season with a pub crawl! I love pub crawls!) Here's an excerpt of their mission statement:

A Diverse and Committed Group of Men
The men who make up Boston Ironsides come from wildly varying backgrounds both on the field and off. We have players just out of college, and players who have lived half of their lives since college. Some of our members have been playing Rugby for years, while others have only just started. We celebrate the differences that make us strong as a team, and look forward to continuing to add new diversity to our ranks.

Of course, these things will never happen. But it's a nice thought, eh? Me on a rugby team, even a gay rugby team? It'd probably be worse that episode of Friends where Ross plays the game to impress his British girlfriend. The fact that I am resorting to Friends references in a post about a manly sport shows you my potential. I may have "the build" for it, I may be fairly masculine, but do I really have the demeanor? At least I'm open to the idea. Look at me. Mr. Open-To-New-Things.

Ok. Maybe I can just be a groupie. Mmm... groupie...

A top story on Yahoo! this Christmas Day. Maybe this is from the deleted scenes of Pee Wee's Christmas Special?

Researchers find gay penguins in Japanese aquariums: report

Sat Dec 25, 1:31 AM ET

TOKYO (AFP) - Researchers have found a number of same-sex pairs of penguins at aquariums in Japan, with an imbalance between the numbers of male and female birds suspected to be the cause, a report said.

A research group led by Keisuke Ueda, professor of behavioral ecology at Rikkyo University in Tokyo, found about 20 same-sex pairs at 16 major aquariums and zoos, Kyodo news agency said.

FULL STORY

Just told the fragmented, twenty-minute version of my coming out story to my co-workers today as part of a "life map" exercise in a a diversity staff meeting. I haven't told my story as an over-arching narrative in ages, and I hadn't really even thought about it until a few weeks ago. It was kind of crazy. I shared more personal stuff than I would've expected and realized I'm not a very good oral storyteller. I went on longer than the two people before me, and then I didn't leave enough room for anybody else to go after me. And I indirectly made somebody cry.

It felt good. Not the crying, but the sharing. I guess maybe I'm not so "post" gay / "post" coming out stories as I thought...

One of the straight white guys in the office told me I should write a book.

VH1 rocks. I thought I Love The 80s was amazing, but the new rounds of programming this channel is pumping out... my god, sheer brillance.

Screw music videos. Their original programming is just nutso pure pop culture pleasure. Best Week Ever... Motormouth... John Mayer Has a TV Show... Most Awesome Bad Songs...

Today I caught the new Mayer show, and also an ep of their "I Loved My High School" talking-head-fest -- which happend to be "The Gay Episode." Hysterical, honest, sometimes stereotypical and often universal, My Coolest Years: In The Closet was just suberb. It featured various "celebrities" like Survivor's Richard Hatch, Jonny McGoven (aka Gay Pimp), and Jill Sobule (ya know, the 90s song "I Kissed a Girl"?) talking very frankly about porn, first times, gym class, and various other teenage experiences. I'm sitting there watching, just sort of mouth gaping, shocked my the imagery and dirty talk, by the honesty, but the lack of censorship.

This isn't Queer Eye gay. This isn't five guys running around, mugging it up, playing it up for the straights without really pushing any buttons. This isn't just Carson making harmless, "witty" little comments about fashion and body odor. This is actually brave and, as much as a single episode of some little basic cable show can be, ground-breaking.

This is the oddly sexy Gay Pimp talking about being "faggoty," "jerking off" (with no bleeps!), and his first time "knocking on the gay door."

This is uber-annoying Ant (from "Last Comic Standing") talking about feeling up stoned straight guys at the movies.

This is beautiful Tammy Lynn Michaels (aka Mrs. Melissa Etheridge) talking about her first time in a gay bar and saying "Muff Diver" (with, sadly, a bleep).

This is real and true. I think it was the most honest gay thing I've ever seen on TV. Bravo, VH1!

So Rutland has a gay bar. And it is called Shooka Dooka's.

This isn't Rutland's first gay bar, mind you. There's a vague history of them in the minds of many Vermonters. I remember one when I was coming out in high school -- I can never remember the name of it, but I do remember going, once, to some "T Dance" on a Sunday my senior year. I lurked on the edge of the dance floor as I watched my friends dance (this was before I had truly discovered the joys of alcohol). A handsome guy came up to me as the place was closing. He said he'd been watching me all night (I was oblivious). He gave me his number. He looked a bit like Val Kilmer.

I called him a week or so later. We met for coffee downtown. He revealed he had mental problems and lived in an apartment above somebody's garage. He was quirky, but probably fuckable, but I was innocent, so I just had him bring me home and that was that. I don't remember his name.

Back to Shooka Dooka's -- I went twice over Thanksgiving with Greg, both Thursday and Friday nights. We made a pact before we descended on Rutland that we would go, so when I picked him up T-Day Night, it was on our agenda. We drove by once, twice, maybe three times (still not a lady). Finally, I parked and we embarked on our Rutland gay bar adventure.

Admittedly, I reverted back to my high school self. I was nervous and a little freaked. Why? I go to the bar here in Burlington now without batting an eye.

The bar itself was a letdown. The space itself is surprisingly nice. Well, not nice, but it has potential and character. It's big, and there are many different facets -- two bars, a couple different rooms, a big dance floor, a live-music stage, many televisions. It was obviously an old Rutland redneck bar, but now it had a rainbow flag or two. I wanted to buy the building, move it to a city, sink a million into it, and open it as my own little gay bar. But, yeah, back to reality...

Night one was uneventful. The "crowd," though small, was colorful. Among them: A stern-but-friendly lesbian bartender. A semi-cute obvious regular in a ball cap and slight southern drawl, who harassed said bartender by telling her he was drunk enough to "eat her poontang" (Greg, incidentally, became smitten with this charmer and we ended up trying to find him at another bar after we left and went to Denny's). A young-ish lesbian couple (?), half of which seemed familiar. And a kind-hearted black man who eyed us since we entered, so outgoing it bordered on functionally retarded. He came up to us to chat and filled us in on some of the bar's story. Among other things, we learned that the last Saturday of the month is always "Men/Bear Night," and that he DJs then.

My heart skipped a beat when a group of people came in shortly after us. It was mostly girls (three or four of them), a handsome and tall gay guy, and finally -- a truly beautiful man, all baseball cap and single earring, in some North Face-ish jacket, oozing masculinity, oozing straight, newbie, or closet case -- ya know, any of those things I always fall for. I was immediately smitten. Increasingly long story short: the girls came and asked us to dance. We did, but I reverted to my high school self again. I wasn't drunk (I was driving) and I couldn't dance. I stood awkwardly, swaying a bit, on the big, empty dance floor, watching my man sit on the sidelines, one of the girls almost constantly on his lap. What a waste.

The second night was much busier, but I guess my perception was off from Night #1. I mean, at that point, 20 people would've felt like 200. But still, the place felt not just fuller, but almost full. There were people of all ages, shapes, sizes -- well, all but really attractive or appealingly intelligent. But I guess that's just Rutland.

Greg and I lurked for a bit. We ended up sitting at the end of the bar, by the front of the place, directly in front of the large picture window. Undoubtedly, foolish people like us were driving-by the place all night to check out the novelty of the gay bar, or to scope it out before they went it. All night, we were the first (and maybe only) ones they saw. I hadn't been the face of homosexuality in Rutland in years.

The handsome and tall gay guy from the night before was there, suddenly bleached blonde. I said hey, and he joined us for a while. Marshall was his name. Kristen, my best bud from another life (Rutland High School), breezed through. She looked amazing and, well, breezy. She, a stanch bisexual, said she was "sick of lesbians" but then proceeded to leave us for the girl drama in the other room.

A cute but creepy guy began to cruise Greg. He was cute. Nice face, short hair, glasses, decent build -- he looked a bit like Wesley from Angel. The thing was, he was wearing an ugly yellow jacket tied around his waist as he circled the bar. It was just horrifying. Eventually, he sat near/next to us, and we mostly ignored him. Finally, while Greg was in the bathroom, I caught his eye contact and couldn't not say hello. So we struck up a conversation, and this Charlie ended up being a pretty nice guy. A fellow RHS graduate (surprisingly, class of '82 - I would've said '90 at the earliest - we looked young), now a wine dealer in Boston, he was home for the holiday. Add a couple other random gay guys through out the night (all of us were just in town for Thanksgiving), and you got our posse for the night.

We stayed until 2AM, and the place didn't seem to be closing. They stopped serving and things had wound down a bit, but in many ways, things were still in full swing. Greg and I left for Denny's, without any boy adventures, or any interest in having any. But I guess that's just Rutland.