Has It Been That Long?

Seven years ago, today, I moved to Los Angeles and it almost passed without notice except it is also my friend Michael's birthday. In 2005, the drive from San Francisco started early that October morning and, with my little reliable Honda stuffed to the brim, I arrived at my new apartment in time for dinner – vowing to never ever make that trek again.  Save for once when I was a passenger in my friend’s car, I’ve kept that promise.

I’ve had an interesting ride over these past calendar days. Although I can count them on three fingers, I’ve dated (yes, you read that correctly), and some friendships have faded away while some have gotten even stronger. There has been drama and then really high drama, but overall, it’s been a great ride. Finding my niche in this land of make believe hasn’t been easy, but as I said to my boss during the recent NBC Emmy Award Party, “I live for this shit.” 

I suppose the good thing about my anniversary passing so quietly is that there really is no need to celebrate. I’ve been in California for twenty years -mind boggling sometimes when I sit and let myself think about that number. There are relatives on the east coast who only see me as a shadow of a stranger who flies in once a year. People have asked me over the years if I feel as if I’ve missed anything. The answer is simply no. I’ve not missed a second of my life because this is my life, and It took many years for me to realize this, but my life is here. 

I’ll always feel a connection to the east coast. It’s where I grew up and spent my childhood. Where my parents are now the only original inhabitants left on Carney Street, where my high school friends still live, and together we can all be instantly 17 years old again, and most importantly, it’s where my grandmother is in her final resting place - a spot that gives me enormous comfort at each and every visit.

Seven years from now, will I still be in Los Angeles?  No one can predict that, least of all me – but, in a way, we’re all still growing up in the places we find ourselves.  Whatever the time frame, it’s just truly wonderful to find yourself in a place you can call home.

Tis the Season To Fall Into A New Me

This month is perhaps one of the busiest that I’ve ever had on my calendar in my life. Starting with another festive gay days at Disneyland that just came to a close this weekend, to a business trip to New York City and ending with an Atlantis Halloween Cruise to Mexico, the only thing that saddens me is that I have no time to get to my desert paradise. 

Once again, Disneyland accomplished what I always expect it to – take me away from the world and transport me to a place where there’s no room for any of the real world’s outside negative energy - unless you count some of the gay boy’s attitudes, but even that was not the norm over the course of the three days.  My friend Steve joined me for the second time this year and it was non-stop from our arrival on Friday to this morning. This time, the only thing that made me nervous was the debut of “the speedo.” No, not the name of some strange new attraction in California Adventure, but the small bathing suit that I wore to the big Sunday afternoon pool party, Plunge! Keep in mind, that never in all my years have I worn such a suit – I’ve been relegated to board shorts or long trunks and only because of my visits with the devil in his playground this year have I gotten the confidence to first, purchase not one but three of these pieces of water attire, but second to wear one  in front of gay boys whose main job is to dance on a box at parties.

What no one sees in my in-your-face flirtation is the still fat- boy inside who couldn’t even make it to the end of the fence for the 500 yard dash in middle school. And once I shove him underwater, despite his struggles to get back to the surface, I keep him submerged as best I can, and this past weekend, I think I did a pretty good job. He broke for air a few times during the Gay Disney pool party but during the beach ball fight that was raging on the surface, he got hit on the head and returned to the bottom where he belonged.

It’s been a long road to this point – since January, I have woken up at the crack of dawn and weathered freezing temperatures in the winter to sweat myself to a more healthy self. And for the first time this weekend, I thought of my former roommate and wondered what he would have thought of this time in my journey. We would have had a good laugh, I’m sure.

Bookmarking the end of October is perhaps the biggest test to that fat little boy imaginable. 3000 gay men on a Halloween cruise to Mexico. Although it was not the reason I began these early morning cross fit hellish classes, it certainly was one of the inspirations that kept me going. What I love about them is that they’ve given me confidence that I’ve been lacking for years and to anyone who wants to feel better and get healthy; this is the way to do it. There are no pills to take, no silly ab machines to give you a slimmer waist while you do the dishes, its hard work, determination and keeping a personal goal in sight that will produce the results.

I still have a ways to go to quiet the fat, unpopular boy all the time, but this October is putting me on the right path. It might be hard to get around that fence, but I’m doing it just the same.