One of the major obstacles to me being in a relationship is, unlike apparently most of the population, I don't need to go out and do a lot of stuff. I don't need clubs, I don't need to visit peoples' homes, I don't need to go to parties.

I'm content building a comfortable world of my own to live in. Movies, music, tv, food, maybe a glass of wine on the balcony or a walk through the park. Farmer's market on the weekend, or maybe the used bookstore. Simple pleasures...and the comfort of developing a routine.

It's rare I've found a guy with whom that vision is compatible. Must there constantly be the expectation--even if it's unspoken--to venture out of the apartment in an effort to find something new/exciting/entertaining/whatever?

I'm not saying that our deciding to go to a gallery opening or a bar one night is a bad thing because it's not the two of us curled up on the couch watching Glee.

I'm saying that it should be the exception, not the rule. Let's develop a routine together, and then we can look forward to the occasional diversion.

My ex and I rarely ventured out except to do the same small handful of things. And it was great. We developed this supremely satisfying comfort zone. That's what I want.

Too green?

Minor epiphany. Minor because it seems insightful now, but might change with the light of day. We'll see.

I've always struggled with the why of living. I don't have the comfort of some religion to assure me that a blissful eternity awaits me after I die. And I don't believe in any pseudo-supernatural force binding us together (karma, etc.). So for a long time I've accepted that my life exists, not with a pre-determined purpose, not with a deity guiding me and protecting me. Not even with non-religious spirituality to make me feel like we're not all randomly flying above the universe's trapeze without a net.

And it's been tough figuring out why anyone with my philosophy should live. I have no heavenly salvation to work toward, no karma points to rack up and avoid coming back as a turkey. I'm not in love and likely won't end up paired off in a "reason to live" romance. My work is nothing more than a job, and I'm not wired for college so it's unlikely my work will ever be more than a job. So why live? What reason do I have to be on this planet, if I know my life will end one day and that'll be it? All this will ultimately have been for nothing; I'll decompose, my belongings will be sold or given away eventually, and everyone who ever knew me will die one day too. Our species will eventually die out, perhaps the planet will give rise to another, but eventually the sun will go nova and the universe will collapse in on itself. Lather, rinse, repeat. Where's the happiness to be found in that? The hope? The comfort?

Finally, it occured to me--the answer has been in front of me all along. The little things! I've always held what I think is a special appreciation for the little joys in life. The perfect piece of sushi, the smell of rain. A roller coaster. Driving with the windows down. Our lives are filled with all kinds of joys, big and small..and each person's list perfectly unique, and utterly different from the next.

When you can learn to appreciate those little things that bring you joy, to really cherish them...you begin to see what fun it can be to live on this earth. There are an awful lot of things to enjoy here. And since our bodies provide us with the capacity to enjoy, and it's such a good feeling, why not do it? Why waste a perfectly good body by not taking full advantage of its complex sensory system?

My philosophy is ever-evolving, but I see this being a potentially defining moment. And I think there's something to be said for my approach, because there's no proseltyzing, no ridiculous rules, just enjoying the countless simple things in life that make us feel good.

Interestingly, one would think that freedom from the shackles of religion, plus my new-found perspective, would give me carte blanche to do whatever awful thing I wanted. But I still find myself goverened by a set of principles. Sure, you can attribute me not robbing banks to a fear of incarcertation, but what about the perfectly legal things I could do, but don't? Toying with people's emotions could be a lot of fun. Or destroying people's hope. Lying, manipulating...it could all be addictively fun. But I have no interest in hurting anyone, and I disapprove of anyone doing so. Fascinating.

So, whenever I find myself wondering what it's all about and why we're here, I'll remind myself that those are silly questions that a human being can't possibly grasp and will never hold the answers to, if there are answers at all.

And then I'll go get some sushi.

The hotel is confirmed (technically a "hostal",  though it's not a hostel like I imagined...there are no dorms, it's just a smaller, privately owned hotel). I've got my Madrid maps downloaded to the iphone. My coworker who was born and raised in Madrid has been giving me all kinds of ideas. And while I wish I was staying longer than 4 days, I know I'll enjoy it.

Last time I was in Europe, it was by myself. I wonder what it'll be like with someone. Not just a travel companion, someone I'm dating. The mind reels.

I'll be scrambling to get a lot of work done before I leave, because it is most certainly going to pile up while I'm away. If there's a chance to get some emails sorted while I'm over there, I will. Nothing worse than coming back from vacation to 200 emails.

Now it's just a matter of resisting the temptation to compile a list of 75 things I want to do there. Trips like this aren't about checking off as many things as possible, it's about enjoying yourself. Relaxing, feeling the whole vibe of the city. Living it, experiencing it. I never understood people whose whole vacation was a frantic blur of tourist attractions. If I come back having spent most of the time eating tapas, drinking wine, listening to music and wandering around...it will have been a good trip. And if I see some cool sites along the way, so much the better!

Perhaps an even greater temptation? Not coming back. Oh, to work from anywhere.

April 10th through the 14th, yeah!!!

Still have to figure out where we're staying, and begin my crash course in Spanish. I've got some audio lessons that should be enough to allow me to function. I'm hoping to find a furnished apartment like I did in New York--that's really the way to travel. But they average €100-ish! Seems a bit steep, but I'm still looking. Would love to stay in Chueca...apparently that's the trendy area that all the gay professionals gentrified and made one of the swank parts of town.

I'm looking forward to lots of tapas, lots of wine, and lot of live music. Probably a decent amount of shopping. And most likely the Prado museum (though I'm not spending all day in there!).

One thing I won't be doing is over-planning. The most fun is had by just wandering around and seeing what looks interesting.

I really love opening the windows and playing music.

Things are on cruise control. The job, the relationship...everything just seems to be coasting at 45 MPH. I'm not sure if that's good, or bad, or both. Or neither.

The excitement of recent was my stepdad needing a double-bypass, which I'm pleased to say went quite well and he's making an excellent recovery. It's made me call into question some of my decisions in the most unexpected way.

I'm known for not taking any crap, especially in the past year. If you let me down, I'll write you off and move on with my life, content to never see or speak to you again. It comes from having been consistently let down by so many people over so long. Not all major let-downs, mind you. But constant little things. An unreturned call, dinner plans canceled at the last minute, lying about who you slept with, ad infinitum.

My stepdad's operation reminded me of our mortality...of how tenative this all is. But instead of making me feel pleased at having made such strides at improving my quality of life by removing the unreliable people in it...I find myself questioning whether t might've been better to have had the past year filled with a handful of let-downs, and a larger number of good memories with the people I stopped seeing. After all, they were flakes, but they were fun.

If I'm on my deathbed, looking back at my life, am I going to look back at this chapter pleased? Comforted by the knowledge that I stood for what I knew was right, even if it meant more nights at home watching tv? Or am I going to be saddened by the relative absence of memories, despite the cost of frustration?

I honestly don't know!

I day dream about running off to some far away city on the opposite coast and totally reinventing myself. I wouldn't even tell anyone I was going...I'd just rent a storage building, hire movers to get all my nice new furniture to the U-Stor-It, and ride off with nothing but a duffel bag and maybe a few things. I'd get a roommate or two, put a mattress on the floor and pin up a few posters, and work at a Williams-Sonoma. I would dazzle old ladies by teaching them how to make the perfect crepes. I'd read Shakespeare in the park after work and play volleyball and go kayaking in the summer. My roommates would have Friday night pre-game at their house and then we'd make the circuit, seeing local bands and singing karaoke. Then we'd go for brunch the next morning and hit the farmer's market. The owner of the local sushi place would call me whenever she got something really amazing in, and the barrista at the coffee house would always ask me to teach her something in sign language.

And if things ever got too complicated, I could just pick up and do it again in the next city.

Why do I fantasize so much? And in such detail? It's not like my life is filled with drama I want to escape--my job is going well, my relationship is on autopilot but by no means difficult, and I hardly see any of my old friends any more. The few friends I have are the ones I feel I can count on, and I don't see them frequently.

The answer, I think, is that I want to run away to become someone totally different. I don't like the person I've become...I feel boring and stuffy. And shy. I want to break out of all this. I want to be fun again!

What happened? How did I lose all my energy? The energy to do fun things, to meet new people, to live! It slipped away from me so slowly that I didn't even realize it until it was too late. 

I have to get it back. Is medication the answer? A change of venue? I don't know, but I suspect I'll try both sooner rather than later...

I'm so proud that the face of my country, the man who represents us to the world, is a Constitutional Law scholar. That's an amazing feeling. If ever anyone were needed to undo the damage caused by the blinding incompetence of that last fool and his cronies, it's my man Obama.

I won't agree with him on everything. But that's ok, because he's smart, and he surrounds himself with smart people who want to work with him to make the world a better place. I forgot what it was like to be proud of my country.

It feels good.

It's been a protracted dilemma for me--eliminate people from my life when they disappoint me, thus eliminating the chance of being let down by them again...but at the cost of having fewer people in my life, leading to loneliness.

Or forgiving flakyness and general disrespect, with the intention of having more friends but ultimately leading to an abundance of people who treat me poorly.

I suppose everyone deals with this at some point, perhaps often. And those I've spoken to about it all say the same thing..."He just canceled dinner plans at the last minute, let him off the hook." Or, "She just didn't call you for a couple weeks, it's no big deal."

Maybe you can forgive that kind of silliness, and if you can, you're a better person than I. Because I can't. Every time I look in the mirror, I would see someone who allowed himself to be walked on.

So I watch the number of people I spend my free time with reduce, but with them go the prospect of being flaked on. This leads to more time on my own (and solitude is peaceful to me) as well as time with a smaller number of friends, but a group I feel I can count on.

The end result is positive, but the reason I'm writing about it is...the ends aren't as positive as the means. Sure, a friend didn't call me for a month. I didn't call them either. So it works both ways. My rationale? I left a message and never got a call back, and I refuse to keep calling because that seems desperate, which I'm far from.

Add to that the admittedly bitter thoughts I have about those who I've recently, for want of a better term, written off. People I've known for years, felt close to, but who I simply can't meet more than halfway anymore. If this were purely logical, free from the emotion of disappointment and frustration, I'd feel more confident about it.  But knowing how annoyed I feel, and how hurt, makes me question it's rationality.

So yes, the ends are positive. But what a murky path to reach those ends.

Such is life, I suppose :)

Change.gov.

You can vote on questions you want answered by Obama, or vote on questions already asked by others. The questions with the most votes get answered next week.

All I'm gonna say.

Why do I still go out to the club?

Granted, it's not often. But in the past few months I've been several times--including last night. It was a rare opportunity to see some friends I seldom see anymore, thanks to our inability to pick up a telephone. I had a nice time at dinner before; there were two guys I hadn't met who joined us, and they were quite nice. The problem is the club. I'm not conversationally engaging like I used to be (which is a cause for some concern, mind you), so I usually end up just reacting to whatever is said around me. I rarely talk to strangers and I'm certainly not going to hit on someone. Even when I was unattached, that was a no-no...I prefer to be hit on, so I know where I stand, but that happens with such infrequency. One wonders if it's my look or my disposition. Perhaps both?

They say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result. Why, then, do I still go? I suppose I'm clinging to the hope that I'll have another "on" night like I used to every once in a while...you know, a night where you're feeling good and having fun and you're witty and flirtatious and all those fun things. What I wouldn't give to feel good about myself without the cause being someone else. Instead of feeling attractive because someone says "you're cute" (a rare occasion), how great would it be to just look in the mirror and like what I see? I think I'm getting there, slowly. But conditioning takes time to re-program.

I could probably make it easier on myself by not going out, but of recent it's been my only social outlet. If I knew anyone who wanted to do something more cultural like the symphony, or even dinner at a nice restaurant, or even a Jeopardy or Scrabble night, I would happily invite them. Alas, my friends--younger and older--don't seem to care about anything that engages the mind or taxes the wallet.

Are there any gay guys out there who aren't poor and uncultured? I'm not asking for a band of uber-droll Ralph Lauren models. Just a small group of friends who enjoy something besides Bravo. Try as I might, I haven't met anyone who didn't fit the stereotype around here. Even at work!

How do you meet other reasonably smart, reasonably successful gay guys? I suspect they're not going to the bars, or chat rooms, and since none of my friends are like that, and they don't know anyone like that, I'm basically insulated. Am I missing something here?

And thanks for letting me rant. It's a beautiful day, and I feel better getting that out. Think I'll hit the farmer's market!
 

Mental health day, I guess. You'd think I would be well-rested after the weekend, but really Sunday was the only chance I had to take it easy. Mum came to visit and we shopped the rest of the time! I can't complain, though, as I now have a gorgeous tv and a new printer. And a Christmas tree. A first for me since 1998, when I struck out on my own and ended up a lost 18-year old, 3,000 miles from home. I needed a Christmas tree then; something to make me feel like it wasn't just another day. Like there was hope. I haven't needed one since because I've been close to the family and spent Christmas there. But I find myself making this apartment into an actual home for myself instead of just a place to live, and somehow it felt right to decorate for the season. I hate the camera on my phone but it'll have to do:

The bedroom is basically finished:



Just minor things left to do in the apartment now. A picture or two above the tv, a coat rack, a mirror over the dresser. It's starting to feel like home...which of course means I'll probably be moving in two months.

Right now my biggest grips about the apartment (aside from not having a dishwasher, which I can't really do anything about), is all the paper. I have papers everywhere, it feels. Mail, mostly. Bills, catalogs, reciepts, magazines, ad infinitum. I've been working on scanning some of this stuff so I can get rid of it, but I worry about my forgetfullness. It's hard enough remembering to pay a bill with a paper copy sitting in a stack on my desk, but emails? Forget it. And none of those systems seem to work for me. You know, set aside a certain day, put them all in one place, blah blah. Some of us just don't work that way, try as we might. But I'm going to try.

I've been wanting to have a dinner party for some time, and now that I find my place in a state that I can feel proud of, I'm still apprehensive. But this time it's not the place, it's the people. I want something fun and not too stuffy, but still nice. Table linens, not paper plates. And I don't really know that many people that either A) I could invite to an evening like that, knowing they wouldn't embarrass me, or B) would enjoy an evening like that, either because of the non-chain-restaurant menu or the moratorium on toilet humor. Am I the only twenty-something who likes sitting down to a candle-lit dinner with friends with jazz playing and trading funny stories that don't involve bodily functions?

I bought a Jetta today.

She's pretty. I'm excited!

Five weeks ago I was hired by a company that bills apartment residents for their utility usage. It's interesting, and the people are very sweet. Plus I've had several chances to shine by showing people better ways of doing things (those countless mail merges at the last job finally pay off.) But I'm still nervous because I've seen 5 people from various departments get terminated since I started, so in the back of my mind I'm always wondering if today's going to be the day they decide I'm just not working out and BAM, back to square one. After such a long and frustrating job search, I don't enjoy the thought of having to look again. So here's hoping it all works out.

Around the same day I started the new job, I went out with a guy (Rob) who I had briefly chatted with online, and we seemed to click, but I was in no place for dating and I was told that was what he was in the market for, so I decided to shy away. Anyway, months later we are getting our hair cut at the same place and he messages me that night to ask if it was me. We talked some more, and I agreed to meet him for a drink. It ended up being quite enjoyable! And we've been seeing quite a bit of each other the past month or so--but not too much, because after avoiding dating for so long, the last thing I want to do is make some amateur mistake like spending every waking moment with him only to get crowded and have my runaway freakout. Nope, wanna do this right. He's incredibly patient with me, despite my frequent difficulty at opening up. And we laugh. And have interesting conversations. And watch Jeopardy together. I'm still adjusting to some things though; he's like 180ish which is a big change from the 28-inch-waist guys I have historically gone after. And he's uber-complimentary, which makes me uncomfortable. But he has so many good qualities that I want to give it the chance it deserves, because how often do quality guys come along?

My apartment is coming along nicely. Rob helped me put in this IKEA pendant light over my dining room and I finished the window treatments. Just need a buffet and that room will be done! Then it's on to the bedroom. The parents have offered to get me a bedroom suit for my birthday so now I need to shop around and see what's out there...

Here's the dining room:


This was taken on my iPhone--that I WON! It was crazy, a friend invited me to the resident party at his building, and the gym they have a partnership with was having a drawing for an iPhone and I won it. I was SOOOOOO scared they were going to figure out I didn't live there and ask for it back, so I got out of there the minute they gave me my gift card! Naturally I already had AT&T and just upgraded my phone 5 months ago, so my $200 Apple gift card wasn't enough to upgrade...so I just bought the 8gig and added it to my existing line. Now I have two lines and a family plan, even though I don't use the old phone. Hey, it beats paying $200 more for the upgrade or $175 to terminate the contract. Even if the family plan is $25ish more a month...I'd rather pay a little more at a time than a lot all at once. (And thank god I found a way to convert existing songs to ringtones--I was NOT going to pay $.99 per ringtone for songs I already have like Apple wants. Greedy bastards.)

And my Jetta now has 103,000 miles on it, so it's time to start shopping for a new one! Mom got a Beetle recently and while it was in the shop she had an 07 Jetta for a loaner. I like! And if I can get the payments right, I'll go for it. Right now I don't have a car payment so going from nothing a month to $300+ a month is a bitter pill to swallow. Will do what I can to keep it below $250. We'll see.

This is addictive.

How many countries can you name in 5 minutes?

I've played twice, scoring 50 and then 62. I should be getting over 100 IMHO! So I'm gonna practice till I do :-D