Monday, December 22, 2003
The Latest Circular
Keep On Blawgging
I definitely enjoy reading the 'personal journal' type of Blog -- and I've bookmarked a number of them, all shapes and sizes. I periodically stop by to see how everyone's doing. I've noticed in my travels that a few go ballistic about fellows who, maybe, do nothing more than type about trying to quit smoking or changing a lightbulb or a great sale at the mall. Or how boring their math class is. But I disagree -- if it's genuine, it's worth memorializing.
When I recently checked up one, I could tell something had happened from the tone of the most recent entry. I ended up printing out the whole blog (yup!) and read it over the weekend. I won't link to it, but I will provide the url: It's: www.our-special-place.blogspot.com.
It was created last summer for two people to communicate with each other. At the beginning, they are very much in love. But as time goes on, they drift apart until, with the most recent entry, it appears their relationship is over.
As I read, I kept asking: Who are these people? I kept reading to find out more about them and to see what would happen. I could empathize with what those two felt. Are they still in love? I think they are.
Although you can tell their gender from their names, l wish I didn't to even give me that clue because what they had to say was universal. Over the course of five months or so, things happened (we can speculate, but we don't know what specifically), and they as people changed. I'm grateful to them for sharing (whether they realize it or not), and for these blogs for them to express it. Ahem, uhm, so... thank you, members of our-special-place.
And I thought Jesus was the Reason
Okay, enough of the sickening sentimentality. On the opposite end of the electronic spectrum: I've been a-chattin in the chat rooms for the past year or so. I have met some cool folks, chief among them my landlord J, and D. Even though it's another form of communicating, it frequently seems like nothing but crossed signals, hurt feelings, and downright rudeness. I have very mixed feelings about chats.
I thought I'd get some dates out of it. And when that failed, I posted an adult pic and went Pigslut Supreme. That failed, too -- well more accurately, it was disappointing. And so more recently, I began desexualizing my profile. The last thing to go was my former scintillating screen name, changed in favor of one I hope is "quirky and humorous" -- just like me, of course! (P.S. "ezurge" is now an available screenname on gay.com.)
Lately, I'll do a kamikaze run through everyone on the chat -- looking looking looking for ... something. Even folks without "adult interests" seem to be looking for a hooking. Maybe it's the season. Oddly enough, I have a circle of non-jerks with whom I regularly chat. As dating material, they seem to be either too young or too old, either too gray or too grassy green.
Somewhat to my surprise, I used the chats to book two dates for this past weekend. (hmmm, so maybe chat rooms aren't *completely* worthless...)
It's My Party
"Do I look like my photo?" asked Bachelor #1 when he showed up at our designated neutral, well-lit public spot. "Yes, you do," except that in the photo you appear about twenty pounds lighter. We played a couple of rounds of pool, and he was fun and intelligent. He has an interesting job that brings him into contact with a lot of fields I'm interested in: Local politics, independent movies, architecture, and the downtown "scene".
I let him give me a BJ. I had this fleeting guilt about that, but nobody forced me to go through with it: You could say I was freely expressing my sexuality. If he calls, I guess I'd see him again...
Bachelor #2 has been one of my regular chatty Cathies. Other than I think he's too young, I don't know much about him except for his love of hamburgers and a 1998 Grand Am -- and you don't have to read too much here to know that I'm not exactly a Grand Am-drivin, hamburger-eatin kinda guy. But he persisted in wanting to meet, so I agreed. I typed out a place and time, and gave my number if something happened and he couldn't make it. "Kewl," he typed back, "L8r."
I made it a greek buffet, cheap, in the college district. It's a place where students eat solo, with papers spread out on the table. In case he didn't show, I brought a magazine and my journal. And he didn't show. And I was relieved. Afterwards, I took myself to see "Pieces of April". I laughed. I cried. (Maybe you would, too.)
It was the best date I'd been on in a long time.
Creative Writing
Seeing that movie reminded me of a half-finished project I had begun a couple of months ago. I'm disappointed with myself for not plugging away on screenwriting. But, thinking about the story again last night, it took yet a different turn. Keepin it real, bloggss, that's near the top of the list of 2004 resolutions.
In the mean time, I'll keep on blawgging.
I definitely enjoy reading the 'personal journal' type of Blog -- and I've bookmarked a number of them, all shapes and sizes. I periodically stop by to see how everyone's doing. I've noticed in my travels that a few go ballistic about fellows who, maybe, do nothing more than type about trying to quit smoking or changing a lightbulb or a great sale at the mall. Or how boring their math class is. But I disagree -- if it's genuine, it's worth memorializing.
When I recently checked up one, I could tell something had happened from the tone of the most recent entry. I ended up printing out the whole blog (yup!) and read it over the weekend. I won't link to it, but I will provide the url: It's: www.our-special-place.blogspot.com.
It was created last summer for two people to communicate with each other. At the beginning, they are very much in love. But as time goes on, they drift apart until, with the most recent entry, it appears their relationship is over.
As I read, I kept asking: Who are these people? I kept reading to find out more about them and to see what would happen. I could empathize with what those two felt. Are they still in love? I think they are.
Although you can tell their gender from their names, l wish I didn't to even give me that clue because what they had to say was universal. Over the course of five months or so, things happened (we can speculate, but we don't know what specifically), and they as people changed. I'm grateful to them for sharing (whether they realize it or not), and for these blogs for them to express it. Ahem, uhm, so... thank you, members of our-special-place.
And I thought Jesus was the Reason
Okay, enough of the sickening sentimentality. On the opposite end of the electronic spectrum: I've been a-chattin in the chat rooms for the past year or so. I have met some cool folks, chief among them my landlord J, and D. Even though it's another form of communicating, it frequently seems like nothing but crossed signals, hurt feelings, and downright rudeness. I have very mixed feelings about chats.
I thought I'd get some dates out of it. And when that failed, I posted an adult pic and went Pigslut Supreme. That failed, too -- well more accurately, it was disappointing. And so more recently, I began desexualizing my profile. The last thing to go was my former scintillating screen name, changed in favor of one I hope is "quirky and humorous" -- just like me, of course! (P.S. "ezurge" is now an available screenname on gay.com.)
Lately, I'll do a kamikaze run through everyone on the chat -- looking looking looking for ... something. Even folks without "adult interests" seem to be looking for a hooking. Maybe it's the season. Oddly enough, I have a circle of non-jerks with whom I regularly chat. As dating material, they seem to be either too young or too old, either too gray or too grassy green.
Somewhat to my surprise, I used the chats to book two dates for this past weekend. (hmmm, so maybe chat rooms aren't *completely* worthless...)
It's My Party
"Do I look like my photo?" asked Bachelor #1 when he showed up at our designated neutral, well-lit public spot. "Yes, you do," except that in the photo you appear about twenty pounds lighter. We played a couple of rounds of pool, and he was fun and intelligent. He has an interesting job that brings him into contact with a lot of fields I'm interested in: Local politics, independent movies, architecture, and the downtown "scene".
I let him give me a BJ. I had this fleeting guilt about that, but nobody forced me to go through with it: You could say I was freely expressing my sexuality. If he calls, I guess I'd see him again...
Bachelor #2 has been one of my regular chatty Cathies. Other than I think he's too young, I don't know much about him except for his love of hamburgers and a 1998 Grand Am -- and you don't have to read too much here to know that I'm not exactly a Grand Am-drivin, hamburger-eatin kinda guy. But he persisted in wanting to meet, so I agreed. I typed out a place and time, and gave my number if something happened and he couldn't make it. "Kewl," he typed back, "L8r."
I made it a greek buffet, cheap, in the college district. It's a place where students eat solo, with papers spread out on the table. In case he didn't show, I brought a magazine and my journal. And he didn't show. And I was relieved. Afterwards, I took myself to see "Pieces of April". I laughed. I cried. (Maybe you would, too.)
It was the best date I'd been on in a long time.
Creative Writing
Seeing that movie reminded me of a half-finished project I had begun a couple of months ago. I'm disappointed with myself for not plugging away on screenwriting. But, thinking about the story again last night, it took yet a different turn. Keepin it real, bloggss, that's near the top of the list of 2004 resolutions.
In the mean time, I'll keep on blawgging.