Hey old friend. Life is good.

Mission 1. Hook up with someone as old as my mom (54) and as young as my sister (20) in a month.
Mission 2. Live a completely gay lifestyle (without the gay sex) for a month.
Mission Three: Live without an apartment for a month.
Mission Four: Reconnect.
Mission Five: Re-take the SATs.
Mission Five: Become a PUA (Pick Up Artist) and wing Cali to 5 F-closes.
Mission Six: Live Life.

I thought of you this weekend. The collective you, the you who I spent nearly every waking hour documenting my life with not so long ago, the you who I have recently become unattached and transposed. But there was one thing I wanted to say to you.

Hey old friend, life is good.

I was not so thrilled about living a life on display, so I have chosen not to do it. New relationships, new friends can see what I did that year. Because all of those crazy mishaps were a part of me. They helped me understand and grow. They helped me reelect my own love of life and participate in its workings more than any other time. But now, I am more that a documentarian, and you are more than a eavesdropper.

I went to Palm Springs this weekend for Gay Pride weekend. It reminded me of you. That’s why I am writing. God knows, I have been an absentee blogger for some time. But I remember the old days of virtual gaydom. That crazy month that we spent together, talking and listening. I forgot about most of it, but it all came streaming back as I entered what will not doubt set the bar for the gayest hotel I have ever stayed at. But enough of that.

It was so much easier just being me this time around. Not trying to fool or assimilate. I was a guy out with old friends, drinking and carrying on. There were no agendas. There were no preconceptions.

I am becoming quite the connoisseur of gay bars, from Santa Monica to West Hollywood to Pennsylvania and now to Palm Springs. And as I recall each and every one, the only thing I can say is it is all different, it is all the same.

Some things I learned this weekend:

I can sing every word from Escape (the Pina Colada Song), but I don't like getting caught in the rain.

The guys in Palm Springs are either 60 or 20. Ever scarier, they kind of look the same.

If you are an old gay man on steroids wearing nothing more than a mystic tan you will be mocked by other gay men. Oompa Loompa is what you will be called. Get off the juice.

I look good pretty good in a pink cowboy shirt.

Listen to your friend’s advice when he says, “If you have to go to the bathroom, let me know and I will escort you.”

G-strings are never flattering on guys, no matter how you are built.

Never try to outgay a Gay guy. You will fail.

If you are not a bartender, never take your shirt off in a gay bar, no matter how narcissistic you are. Especially if you are straight, oops.

Don’t get so wasted at a gay bar that your friends will begin using you for parlor tricks.

There is no greater sign of coolness than being a gay guy who brings a straight guy to a gay bar. That one is a bit confusing.

Regina Spektor could get me to do anything if she asked in song.

If you nickname a person after a state, you will most likely never forget his or her name.

Even with the badge of pride that comes with such an effervescent score, never pick up the straight hot-blonde bartender in a gay bar. Knowing you could should suffice even the biggest ego.

Whenever I hang with my gay friends, I am wholly diabolical for at least 10 days following.

That’s about all I will share. On the personal front, everyone in my life is doing well. New people, new challenges , new places to make mistakes. I have a new job, new industry and some new friends. Life is new, but the old is never forgotten. At least for me.

So for all of you wondering if I am still alive, I guess the answer is yes. At least for now anyway.

Currently in My 25 most played:

Regina Specter
Azure Ray
Placebo
Ottmar Liebert
Brian Jonestown
My Morning Jacket

Currently watching:
Shark
Heroes
Lost
Sunny in Philly


Anyway, look me up on Myspace. Be seeing you.


Peace

RL

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