Was a complete and utter bust. The party was simply not at all what I had wanted it to be and I request that you consider this a public apology to all who were kind enough to grace the party with their presence.
And a deeper apology to those who came who did not know me (not that you'll read this) and whose only impression of me now is that I have no idea how to throw an enjoyable get-together.
The whole concept of the venture was to engage Pride Weekend in such a way as that I could actually involve myself -- to find something that brings to Pride what I think is so wholly missing from it now.
But ::sighs:: this really just proved to me that Pride and I do not mix.
|Of Beds and Men.| So my roommate's mother and brother have breezed into town to deliver goods from the great, white middle of Pennsylvania: clothes, a mattress for me (they own a bed/furniture store) and a chest of drawers for my roommate whose had to contend with living out of boxes for far too long. Her mother leaves today: she's a dear sweet woman who is perfectly willing to spend 12 hours out of 30 in a truck simply to bring her daughter things that her daughter would not need had her daughter possessed fewer things to begin with. Her brother, on the other hand, is staying. And with him stays his perfectly molded, taught body which, apparently, is probably going to go mostly bare over the week that he will be staying with us. I don't really mean to be a total pervert, but it was very hard not to just gawk at his rippling back as he slept this morning whilst I readied to start my day (have I told you how much I adore short, muscley, cute, smart guys?). And I'm torn because as much as I want to ChristinaAguileraDirttyBritneySlave4UTLCRedLightSpecialLovin' to him (and I really think he's less than a perfect 0 on the Kinsey scale; and I wouldn't because he's my roommate's brother and that would just be odd), I also find myself hating him, but for all the wrong reasons. He's gorgeous, ripped, kind, intelligent, artistically talented, easy going (which is probably a result of all of these aspects combined with the next) and comes from what I would really describe as the perfect family unit. I hate him because I feel like he has everything that I utterly lack, at the same time, all experiences with him only underscore the genuine goodness of his character, which makes it terribly difficult to actually dislike him, which only makes me want to dislike him all the more. But perhaps I can leave the reflections be and just think, "Ahh, there is a beautiful, curly-haired, half-naked boy, glistening from the sweat of early summer New York City humidity, dozing away in my apartment at this very moment. Life is good."
I went to an Ivy League undergrad.
I go to a top NYC law school.
I date men (well...).
I live in Bed-Stuy.
I don't need more to say,
just more room to say it.
Etc.