Out N About New York

The Hiki Tiki Rooftop Glamour Porch!

2010-08-26T11:49:00.004-04:00

For Real! Seriously!

Bliss In the Pines- a Weekend Adventure!

2010-08-26T11:31:00.003-04:00

For Real! Seriously!

Day Tripping to Fire Island

2010-07-08T09:58:00.002-04:00

For Real! Seriously!

Caribbean Fashion Rocks!

2010-05-26T15:52:00.003-04:00

For Real! Seriously!

A flow Affair Benefit

2010-05-26T15:13:00.003-04:00

For Real! Seriously!

Pahae

2010-05-26T14:59:00.003-04:00

Okay most of you know that I'm slowly trying to merge this blog into a video blog on facebook. If you Haven't done it already, then you need to friend on facebook First name "outnabout" last name "NY" below is one of the recent video blogs i posted on facebook.

For Real, Seriously!

World Aids Day 2009: Out of the Darkness

2009-12-03T10:58:00.014-05:00

Hello OutNabouters! I know it’s been awhile since I’ve blogged about something, but it doesn’t mean that I haven’t been OutNabout. A lot of the recent events I have been attending-- I’ve previously blogged about as this blog has come full circle having been around one whole year, and many of the events are annual events. But I would like to blog about a new event that I attended that I hold close to my heart because it affects so many people.

One time… I got an email from a woman named Krishna from the Gay Men’s Health Crisis Center in NYC asking for flaggers for an event in celebration and remembrance of World Aids Day December 1st. I had no real idea what this celebration was about, but an opportunity to share flagging, and also to be part of an event that speaks about something that really affects my community, my friends and myself so deeply, --I agreed to do it.

The event was called “Out of the Darkness” and it was the 18th gathering of people to reflect and read the names of those we have lost to AIDS. The event will continue to happen annually until the day comes when there will be no need to have a World Aids Day because a cure has been found, OR we are able to Act up, Fight Back, and Fight AIDS till it is non-existent.

The event is in two parts. The first part began as a candlelight vigil at the Trinity Lutheran Church of Manhattan at 6:00 PM. From there, people would march in a procession to the Broadway United Church of Christ where 30 minutes of time would be devoted to the reading of the names of people we have lost to AIDS. It was at the second church that I was asked to flag in honor of those who have departed us, and to support those of us still fighting the disease, and also to support and educate others about the prejudices and struggles of HIV.

When I got to the beautiful church on 93rd street, several flaggers were already there dressed in white with red AIDS ribbons. It was there that I learned that during the early days of the AIDS crisis in the mid 80’s, the AIDS pandemic had hit the gay nightclub scene so hard that there was a decline in flaggers and flag dancing. It later became a tradition to do a flag dance in honor of a friend who died of AIDS.
At one point, dance floors became so full of flaggers honoring departed friends that it became too much for the gay community and flag dancing was stopped. I realized now why Krishna had invited flaggers. Because flagging in remembrance of departed friends to AIDS was a tradition. I felt extremely honored to be there.

There was no fanfare opening up the gathering. At 6:30 PM the reading of the names commenced. Mike Richards, Dan Williams, Tim Scott, Willie Ninja… the names continued on. Baby Jessica, Eduardo, Fernando, Alejandro, Richard- people with no last names… Music was softly playing in the background.

Seven minutes into the reading, I found myself overwhelmed. So many people lost. Tears freely started flowing from my eyes. How could we have lost so many people? 8 minutes into this and no end in sight of the names. I couldn’t help but worry how it would feel to one day to hear any of my friends names amongst those being read, or maybe even my own name. Halfway through the reading, the procession from the candlelight vigil arrived. The church started to get so full, that more folding chairs had to be brought out.

At 7 PM exactly, the reading of names stopped. I know that there were many many more names and not all of the names were read. They could have read for hours. The pastor of the church invited people to call out the names of loved ones they had lost to AIDS. I found myself surrounded by people shouting out the names of departed loved ones. I also realized how lucky I am to have not lost anyone yet. I counted my blessings as I wiped my tears.

After a brief music interlude, the flaggers were invited up to flag. I flagged with all my heart. I felt like crying but at the same time, also felt joy to be here part of this celebration of life amongst some of my closest friends doing something we love to do- Flag dance! What an honor! What a gift!

Brent, Founder and President of the American Run for the End of Aids (AREA) shared a poem he had written called “Beach Glass”, reminiscing about his early days on Fire Island dancing at a beach party, surrounded by flaggers, celebrating life amidst the AIDS crisis. He asked if this was the price that gay men had to pay in order to feel love.

I contemplated that without equal rights to express our love such as the legalization of gay marriage, society maybe be plunging such issues as HIV into the darkness- making it worse. When people have to hide what they are doing-- we make it seem like a crime to love one another, is this what happens?

A Woman named Gay performed a song in English and in French entitled “Hymne a l’Amour” (Hymn to Love).

Evelyn then came up to speak about her son who she lost. She shared how her sons last few months were wonderful as it was when he started to really open with her. When he passed away, so over wrought with grief, she decided to volunteer at the Gay Men’s Health Crisis Center. She continues to volunteer there today and will do so until the day they tell her she is no longer needed because a cure has been found. HIV doesn’t only affect its’ victims, it affects their loved ones too.

Carol and her son Trammell came up to speak afterwards. Carol told the story of her baby daughter who was born sickly. How Carol herself was not in a high risk group.
How she did not engage in risky sex, or drug use, nor had blood transfusions. How the doctors kept testing her child for everything except HIV because there was no reason to believe that her daughter would have it. But when all the test were exhausted and that was the only one left, and it came back positive, Carol had to have herself tested because logically that is where her daughter would have got it from. Carol was also positive. Carols daughter was given only a short time to live, but years later, on her 6th birthday when asked what her birthday wish was she replied “I want to live and be 7 years old and lose my baby teeth because then I won’t be a baby anymore”. Three months after her 7th birthday, Carol noticed her daughter squinting. She told her mom that her head hurt so badly but she didn’t want her mommy to worry. She died. She still had all her baby teeth. Trammell then spoke about having a mom who is positive and how her health is constantly at the back of his mind. HIV can affect anyone, not just gays, not just drug users, but mothers and fathers, daughters and sons, babies.

Simply Rob from the group El Grit de Poetas came up and shared some spoken word- Poems he wrote about being a positive gay man. He shared a story of how he was invited to a dinner and everyone ate off of fine China while he was invited to eat off of paper plates because he has HIV. He has made it his mission today to educate his friends and the masses, about the prejudices of HIV. You cannot get HIV by sharing a cup with someone, or shaking their hand.

The elaborate House and Ball system of Harlem—the people who invented vogue-ing has been in existence since the 1920’s during the Harlem Renaissance. Formal competitions occur in the form of grand balls held by the houses. Hector Xtravaganza, grandfather of several of the houses, age 51, shared what it was like to be an HIV positive person in the early 80’s. How his parents believed that AIDS was god’s punishment for gays and drug users. How he has forgiven his family for not being open and discussing sexuality and STD’s (I feel like my parents were this way, even embarrassed to talk about this stuff). He is making sure that the kids and grandkids in his Houses are all educated to protect themselves, and fight the prejudices that come with it. HIV is not punishment for sinners, it can infect anyone. No one is immune. You can protect yourself through education.

Hector’s Son Luna and his grandson Dominique shared what it was like to be able to go somewhere and be accepted for who you are no matter what your sexuality is, how you dress, or if you have HIV or not.
They are proud of their families in the House and Ball System of Harlem. People with HIV need support from their loved ones, not prejudices and rejection.

To show her love and support Tiah Legacy Carrera performed the number “When Love Takes Over”.

The next part of the gathering though somewhat strange to me, woke me up to the importance of why people choose the type of protections they use when having sex, or choose not to. This was the Blessing of the Safer Sex Kits. “We Bless the condoms, Female Condoms, the lubricants, and we bless the people who may not have the luxury of using protection because of fear of abuse, or the need to feel intimacy or human touch that outweighs the harsh realities of living with HIV and AIDS…..”

Then the Evolution Dance crew of America’s Next Best Dance Crew slammed the audience with an amazing performance!

And then the Reverend Pat Bumgardner of MCC called us to action. She asked that we write our congressman to not cut HIV budgets. She said that if you can twitter or go on Facebook and write random things about yourself such as going to the bathroom or feeling a certain way, you can take an extra few minutes to write your congressmen about something that really matters. She is right. Don’t be afraid to speak up for the issues you believe in.

The night ended with more song as everyone was invited up to dance. After the formal gathering, I took the time to take a look at some of the Artwork and quilts around the church. On the Altar of the church were 3 pieces by W. Maxwell Lawton. His partner graciously shared his work showcasing his struggle with HIV before he died. One piece spoke to me loudly. A bold Statement. I don’t really know what the piece was meant to portray, but to me it was that of Jesus covered with Kaposi Sarcoma lesions. I nicknamed this piece the “AIDS JESUS”.

Above our heads hanged four large quilts. The quilts were covered with names and sayings of people who had gone before us. They were very moving.

As I left the church that night, a big part of me felt wonderful that I was part of this celebration, but a big part of me just wanted to go home and cry. So many people affected, so many people lost. I think I will continue to go to World Aids Day until I too am told that there is no more World Aids Day because a cure has been found.

I am lucky to not have lost anyone to this disease. I urge all of you, my friends, to talk openly with one another about it. Talk to your kids about it. It is important that we learn to protect ourselves, and to fight the prejudices that HIV brings about. The only way that someone with HIV can stay well is if he or she has our support. HIV affects everyone, not just gays, not just people of color, not just drug users. It affects anyone who is not educated enough to protect themselves. If you think that you are exempt, remember so did Carol and her daughter. It is not punishment for being bad, because HIV can happen to good people too.

My friend Karl who is HIV positive once told me that when we shine light into the darkness the darkness ceases to exist. It’s time to shine the light on this guys!

For Real! Seriously!

Wenches, Wizards, and WILLIAM!!

2009-10-08T18:11:00.008-04:00

One time... In Atlanta, a ton of my friends decided to sign up to work the renaissance festival (work and get paid to be there-- there are some people who "work" it for FREE because it’s the only place they can dress up that way and be accepted!). My own roommate Andrea worked there as a town wench. My good friend Dewayne was some sort of town mayor, Derek was the king's horn player (who announced the king in), and my beautiful friend Tisza was the Fairy Queen complete with glitter and wings.

Me and my "Non-renaissance" friends decided to go pay them a visit.We drove maybe 40 minutes south of Atlanta to this giant field that had been turned into a medieval town. We watched Jousting, and had tea with the fairies (well actually the fairies had tea with us-THE FAERIES!). We ate turkey legs with no utensils, and tried on armor and sword fighting. We had a blast! Since moving to NYC, I have not made it out to the renaissance festival upstate where Tisza (who now also lives in NYC) continues to work every summer. Part of the reason is that like most New Yorkers, I gave up my car and have no real way to get there, and am iffy about taking public transportation outside of the 5 boroughs. I love the Ren Fair. I think it's because growing up in Hawaii we never really got to experience medieval life even though we had our own Hawaiian kings and queens. It's very different.

Herbelicious called me one Sunday morning and said that there was a medieval festival in Fort Tryon Park in Washington Heights. I quickly did an Internet search and found a link to the annual festival. Last year 40,000 people attended! Was this a renaissance festival being held yearly here in the city right under my nose? I called my friend's Ben and Tom who live right near the park to ask them. No Answer. An hour later, Herbelicious and I were in a gypsy cab on our way to Fort Tryon Park.

On the way there Ben called. "Hey guys! Why don't you stop by our apartment and we can head over to the medieval festival together". Herbert and I asked the gypsy cab driver to drop us off near 190th street. From there we headed to Ben and Tom's Apartment. Outside of their apartment building was a "Medieval Flea Market" that the residents of their building had put together. Nothing of interest to me (though I will need things for my new apartment October 15, I’m not sure what my decor will be so I will hold off).

"Hey Guys... how are you?" said Ben. "You know..." said Tom, "We have never been to this festival. Every year it falls on a weekend that we are never in town for. This will be our first year!"

We walked to the park noticing the Goth and medieval folk dotting the crowd along the way. Just like the Ren fair in Atlanta, these people were the people who came here because this was one of the acceptable places to be dressed this way in public (well besides the East Village). I thought how great it was that this was happening before Halloween when costumes were abundant. I secretly wished I had dressed up, maybe in a leather coat of armor with spikes, or as a fairy prince with glitter and wings.

It was the perfect fall day to hold such a festival. It was cool but not too cold, and the sun was shining brightly. As we entered the park, the group organizing the event asked a donation of $2.00. I was expecting to see the park turned into a medieval kingdom just like in Atlanta.
Instead, it was more like a medieval street fair held in the park. Tents lined the sides of the walkways with artisans displaying their goods as well as minstrels and street performers. What I was not expecting to see was how crowded the walkways were. They were so packed I understood now how 40,000 people could be at this event.

I stopped by a tent where women were spinning yarn and weaving. I watched for a moment. Ben and Tom stopped by a boy wowing the crowd with his skill at Devil Sticks. He was adorable! We watched for a few minutes.

Suddenly I heard the sound of belly dancing cymbals and drums. Ever since attending Habibi here in NYC, I have been intrigued with belly dancing. I'm a pretty good belly dancer myself. The hip movement in belly dancing is so similar to Tahitian hula that I picked it up very quickly. I rushed to the where the drums were just in time to catch the start of several full figured women dressed as gypsies belly dancing right there in the street. I noticed that though they were dressed like gypsies, they had on belts that looked very Polynesian, almost Tahitian in fact. Their belts had shells and tassels that accentuated their hip movements. I need a belt like that for Habibi!

While I was watching the dancers, Ben and Tom headed over to the “Ye Fried Dough" stand for some funnel cake. I really wanted a turkey leg, but didn't want to stand in a line that was half a mile long for an 8.00 piece of turkey. It smelled so good though. I'll get one on the way out I thought to myself, that way I can take it home and eat it with rice.

As we headed to the center of the park, we ran into a wizard and a wench. I quickly took the opportunity to be photographed with them as "Wenches, Wizards, and William!"

At the center of the park, we found an "arena". This was where the jousting would take place. Currently there was no jousting, only a man doing tricks with a hawk. I wasn't clear if there would be jousting.

Near the jousting arena was another food area. Now was my chance to get a turkey leg. The lines looked shorter here! “No More Turkey Legs—SOLD OUT” read the sign. Damn!

It was there that someone nudged me and said “what is this? Medieval hip hop?” I turned in time to catch a guy in full medieval attire WITH…corn rolls! Corn rolls of blond weave in black hair! He was really into the spirit! AWESOME!

We continued past the interactive storytellers deeper into the park still. This was actually my first visit to Fort Tryon Park.
In the middle of the park stands a large building, almost like a castle. Herbelicious and Tom explained to me that a lot of the old convents in New York were brought here brick by brick from old convents and castles in Europe. This was once a convent, but now was a museum. I’ll have to check it out on another visit.

We headed down and around, stopped and watched a Magician, and back up again. It was there that I saw the maiden riding what appeared to be a UNICORN!
Not even at the Ren Fair in Atlanta did I ever see a unicorn! “It’s not a horse father, it’s a YUUUUUNEEEEECORN!”

It was on our way out that I noticed the fenced off area full of kids in armor and Nerf swords fighting.
It was like a dog run—if you know your dog… err… kids are cry babies or too aggressive, or you don’t want them to get hurt, don’t put them in! The kids in there were going crazy! I was just like that as a kid, except instead of a Nerf sword, I had a plastic samurai sword that came in a two pack from the corner store in Whitmore or from Big Way Supermarket.

I never got my turkey leg, and the only fairies I saw were the hot gay boys of Washington Heights who came out in droves! Eye candy everywhere! Still, it was a nice day to be out. Maybe next year I’ll dress up.

For Real! Seriously!

Touching the Hearts of Men: Rowe Gay Mens' Labor Day Retreat

2009-09-11T15:38:00.035-04:00

One time… when I was a kid, my father started recording movies from HBO onto VHS tapes. We had this extensive library of mostly B-movies and all of our friends and relatives would come over to borrow them. 3 movies to a VHS tape-- a great deal. We were the “Netflix” of Whitmore Village before there was even such a thing as “Netflix”—and we did it for free!

My older brother would spend a lot of time watching these movies.
He had his favorites, and one of his favorites was the movie “Meatballs”. I watched it over and over with him. It was a movie about summer camp. I guess he liked it a lot because in Hawaii, there wasn't really such a thing as summer camp. Camping consisted of going to the beach, or pitching a tent in your backyard for the weekend. Even places like Camp Erdman or Camp Kualoa were only for 3 days at a time, nothing like summer camp in the movie “Meatballs”.

My older brother and older sister would often have my dad pitch a tent in the backyard and have all their friends come for a sleepover. In the morning, I would unzip the doors of the tents and jump on everyone waking them up. I think I was four or five years old at the time. I never had any of my friends come for a backyard sleepover, even when I got older. Maybe it was because my grandfather covered all of our grass with concrete and turned our yard into an outdoor patio.

When I was in high school, I saw the movie “The Breakfast Club” and had the same sort of reaction from it as the movie “Meatballs”. Mrs. Kawaa, our leadership teacher explained to me that the reason people relate to these movies is because they are about groups of kids who do not have a sense of belonging, who find their place in the world utilizing a thing she called “group”—like group therapy.
They learned at camp, (or in detention) that they were really all alike, and that in order to feel accepted, all they had to do was be themselves--Something a little hard for a closeted gay boy like me to digest.

For the past few months, living in NYC, I have been feeling like a leper-- Like I don’t belong. I’ve been going through a mild depression. You’ve read in my last couple of blogs about my so called dating life – that is one of the ways I have been feeling rejected. This depression has manifested itself in me reading self help books and excessive drinking. I needed to stop.
I needed to go to summer camp and just be myself.

And that is why when my friend Ben offered me a chance to teach flagging at his “gay spiritual retreat” up at the Rowe Conference Center (camp) for Labor Day weekend, I seriously considered it. But words like “spiritual retreat” brought images of shamans, and psychics, and preachers singing Kumbaya around a fire and left me feeling kind of iffy. Ben assured me that this isn’t what his camp was about--This would be a weekend for me to really be myself, be alcohol and drug free, to meet great people, and to learn my place in our community as a gay man. I agreed to do it.

Before I go on, I’d like to explain that Rowe turned out to be an amazing place where I could just be me. It was because Rowe fostered an environment of freedom with no judgment. In order to continue fostering this environment and out of respect for my fellow brothers, I will be telling you this story from my point of view—My story and no one else’s. I will not share other people’s stories from camp, what they did, or photos,-- just my own. I want my brothers to know that what happened at Rowe stays at Rowe. That everything that happened will remain sacred.

On August 15, Ben called me to make sure that I was registered for camp so that he could add my flagging workshop to the schedule. I still had doubts about attending at that time, but decided “why not?”

I called Rowe to book. “Which housing would you prefer? Your own tent, a tent that we pitch, an un-winterized cabin, a winterized cabin, or a dorm in the farmhouse?” the woman asked.

“Which ones have the nicest bathrooms and where would you personally stay?” I asked. “Definitely the farmhouse” she replied.

Friday September 4th, I found myself with a suitcase, a sleeping bag, and a duffle bag of flags (way over packed), in a car for the 5 hour drive to the Berkshire mountains where Rowe is located.
The ride was pleasant as Tom (Ben’s partner) and Karl filled me in on the details of the camp without really filling in the details. I asked if there would be bacon. They weren’t sure since Rowe is known for having delicious but HEALTHY menus. We passed cities, and towns, and eventually came into green farmlands where my cell phone ceased to work. It was going to be a truly unplugged weekend.

We pulled into the camp grounds and up to the farmhouse (where I would be staying), which housed the registration desk, a living room, and the dining hall. Ben greeted us with hugs on the porch. Ben had this strange but calm serene grin on his face. I wasn’t sure how to take this. Images of gay men sitting around a campfire singing Kumbaya filled my head. “Where are you staying?” Ben asked. “Right here in the farmhouse” I replied. “Wow!” said Ben. “You got good housing”.

I checked in, put my stuff in my room, and hung out on the porch for a while, meeting guys as they arrived--all who were very friendly. I was waiting for Tom and Karl to come back from putting their stuff up in their rooms somewhere else on the grounds.

I decided to go sit in the farmhouse living room and wait.
I could still feel the traffic of NYC racing through me. With each breath of clean fresh air, it started to dissipate. Guys were coming in and hugging each other. It was nice, and I so wanted to be a part of their mini reunion.
They turned and introduced themselves to me and made me feel very welcomed. When Karl and Tom came back, they suggested we head up to the Rec Hall where we could start working on our mailbox bags. I think I was starting to get that calm serene grin on my own face—And I WAS LOVING IT!

When we got to the Rec Hall, Karl Immediately sat down and started on his bag. I was at a loss for ideas. There were a ton of guys already working. I sat down and started working on mine. Jose across me started a conversation with me.
He made me feel special, like I belonged. Jose finished before me and went to put his bag up on the “Wall of Fame”. Another guy Christopher sat down across from me. Watching me fold some origami flowers, he decided that I must be an art teacher. I laughed about that. When I was done, I put my bag up on the wall of fame and went to ride the rocking horse that was there. It was so nice to be a kid again. Some snacks were being offered as people were working. Fresh fruit, meatballs, and BACON STUFFED MUSHROOMS!! We had bacon!! Yay!

After “arts and crafts”, we headed to our first meal in the dining hall. All the men gathered in a large circle for grace.
Someone read a moving poem for grace. We sat down and the kitchen staff informed us that the camp was a green place and that our napkins would be our napkins for the entire weekend. They provided us little cubbies to store them in after each meal. Dinner was refreshing, nourishing, and delicious. Pasta with chicken, and salad with fresh organic ingredients from the nearby farms.

After dinner I had a bit of free time. I checked out the bathrooms. The farmhouse bathrooms were the most private—the nicest. Although though they had paper towels, they encouraged the use of cloth hand towels. I sat in the farmhouse living room again with a cup of herbal tea and just took the day in, breathing and enjoyed the company of others. I was starting to feel a sense of community.

At around 8PM we headed to the Rug Room in the Rec Hall where our first session began.

I love the Rug Room. No shoes allowed, huge comfy couches, and lots of throw pillows and places to sit on the floor. Hanging above the mantle place, a painting showing all the religions of the world living in harmony. Ben, Andrew, and Don went over the rules of the camp. They expressed that we were here to foster an environment of absolute openness, and absolute safety.
This meant that here at Rowe there was absolute trust and support. No one would be asked to do something they did not want to do, and no one was to be photographed without their permission. When we were to share stories, we were only to share our own stories, and no one else’s. And then Don went into the “sex talk”. Just like a nervous father, he explained that we are all adults and that he encouraged us to enjoy one another’s company. He asked that we just be aware and respectful of others around us, and that there were other ways to show affection besides sex, like “taking a walk” or “cuddling”. He left it at that.

After the pep talk, we played some group games where I learned to ask for the things that I wanted, and to say no to things that I didn’t want. I learned to take deep breaths. We also learned to give delicious gourmet hugs to one another. This turned out to be the highlight of the weekend. Whenever I felt needy, or overwhelmed, I would get a hug, from ANYONE and breathe. It was nice. It was like monkeys, who when stressed would cling to one another until the stress went away. Let me tell you, it works. I hugged and was hugged all weekend long.

After the session we met in our small groups. This was a group we would regularly check in with and discuss topics. This group became my family while I was there--My own "breakfast club."

I ended my night in the farmhouse living room once again, with another cup of herbal tea chatting with Matt and a guy named Rene- the music director of the talent show. I felt a speical Connection to Rene (pronounced Reenee), and Matt.

I stayed up until 2 AM sharing with Rene and Matt. Rene asked me to join him in singing for the puppet show the following night, and also convinced me to sing the song I was toying with for the talent show on Sunday. When I finally crept into bed, I realized that I had not unpacked my bedding and to be respectful and quiet to the other men sleeping in my room I decided to just make do. It was a restless night for me, but usually the first night is always restless especially on a full moon accompanied by the sound of coyotes’ howling outside.

I missed early morning yoga (I was too tired after that restless night) got ready and headed to the living room where I had another cup of herbal tea waiting for breakfast. The air was cool and crisp, and breakfast was amazing. Pancakes and BACON!! Yay!

After breakfast it was back into another small group session where I think I shed my first tears being confronted with who I really was.
My new family was amazing and supported me through saying exactly what I needed to hear. I learned to listen. Burgers for lunch, and then it was time for the afternoon sessions.

There were several sessions to choose from, from Emotional Freedom Technique, Astrology, to Tantric Massage. I chose to take Bens workshop on the “Hunter and the Hunted” where i felt like Ben was describing me to a Tee and using the blog I wrote on dating to teach the session. He was not. It hit me hard but I learned so much.

For the second afternoon session, I taught my flagging class to 6 eager people who learned to flag and even put together some choreography. I learned a lot about my own skills as a teacher, and patience.
I used free time afterwards to write notes to people in their mailboxes while some people napped, went on walks, or went to the lake (the ledges which is clothing optional!). I also joined in a game of Wolf where Jade and I used our sweet innocence to decimate a whole village!

Dinner was to be followed by a puppet show and ritual. As soon as I was through eating, I changed into warmer clothes, sprayed on some bug spray and headed out to the field to learn the song I was supposed to help Rene sing. John, Jade, and Stephen, were already there. Rene tried to teach us some simple back up rifts, but we ran out of time. The puppeteers needed Rene to work with them so we had to wing it. Jade, John, and I made up notes and chords, singing words such as “scissors, scissors, scissors” over and over again to stall while the puppets caught up. I don’t think anyone really realized we were making it up. Stephen did a great job on the drums.

The Puppet show was amazing. Giant puppets and shadow puppets were illuminated by candles in paper bags and Flashlights. It told the story of how at the beginning of time, people were actually two people fused together and how god pulled them apart.
Because they were pulled apart, we are now constantly in search of our “lost brothers” who were pulled from us,-- but each of us have it in ourselves to be strong alone. The story left me feeling sad. I realized that I was amongst my brothers. The ritual around the campfire followed. We each lit a candle. It was too overwhelming for me. I was amongst other men who truly understood and accepted me.

I broke down on Rene’s shoulder crying. Both he and John embraced me in a safe comforting hug. We all lit sparklers and I was a kid again laughing and smiling.

After the bon fire, Rene had to go work on the script for the talent show. After a day of being emotional and my allergies starting to act up, I didnt feel like doing much, so I opted to write a few notes to people, reflect, and hang out with John. We were waiting for Rene to finish. At Midnight, John and I were ready to turn in. I popped my head into where Rene was and said goodnight to him. I left the Rec Hall.

A few minutes later, Rene was chasing after me saying he was done. He offered to walk me to the Farmhouse.

Rene made me watch the giant spider that lived on the Rec Hall porch build a new web.
As terrified of spiders as I am, I somehow felt safe with Rene there. We ended up driving one of the golf carts back to the Farmhouse, and on the way, we found a rainbow colored Hula Hoop-- the perfect prop to be used as a time machine in Rene's talent show. This time when I crept into my room, my sleeping bag was set up and I went right to sleep.

Sunday was beautiful and breakfast was followed by a beautiful walk to the lake, then another emotional group session, followed by lunch. After lunch it was time for workshops.

I opted to take John’s nature walk since I was starting to feel a closeness to him as well (after the previous nights events). The walk was beautiful. We learned about the layout of the land, and picked herbs and made a wonderful herbal tea. I spent the rest of the afternoon with John hanging out where Rene was working on the talent show stuff. We knew that Rene was stressing from putting the talent show together for that night.

I wanted to be there for Rene so that when he looked over, he would know that I was there to support him just as he was for me at the camp fire when I broke down. At the end of the session, he worked with me on my song for the talent show. Both him and John eased my fears.

As we were prepping for the talent show, the Drag Workshop was taking place. I should have done it, but felt I wasn’t ready this year (though I know some of you would have paid to see me in drag!). I definitely want to do it next year. As I watched my brothers transform I was envious. I saw strengths in each of them that I admired. The queens within brought this out. I think it was very therapeutic for them. Once fully dressed, they held a reception where they traded kisses for money. The money goes to scholarships for people who could not afford camp.

We took our “ladies FOR the night” (not ladies OF the night) to the farmhouse for dinner. The dining hall was beautifully set up, and candle lit. When I was done eating, I headed up to change into my red shirt for the talent show.

I met John in the Rec Hall and sat down extremely nervous to be performing in the talent show. The talent show turned out to be fun. People shared songs, poetry, skits, comedy-- everything! Even the drag queens performed a number. Then it was my turn to sing. My voice was hoarse from allergies and being emotional. I got my strength to sing at first from John and Rene (who I practiced with), and then from the whole group. There was no judgment here. I sang my heart out. At the end of the talent show I flagged.

After the talent show, the most amazing dance happened. Everyone slow danced for 2 minutes with someone, and then at the sound of a bell, we traded partners. We continued trading, sharing, and thanking one another, until we had just about danced with everyone. It was so sweet. Then a whole bunch of people flagged!!

I left the grand ball with someone special and we headed back to his private tent. We cuddled in the tent the whole night, sharing stories, deep secrets, crying, laughing, and sleeping. Early the next morning he walked me back to my room. I got ready for breakfast.

I sat with my group at breakfast. This would be the very last time our whole group would be together-- since Eli was leaving early. Then we headed up to the Rec Hall. Some friends were on the floor of the rug room with open arms waiting to cuddle with me for this last session there. We cried as people stood up and shared some of their most intimate secrets. And then it was off to our final Small group.

In this final Small group, I was able to thank my group for being them. I thanked Stephen for his calmness, Eli for his eagerness, Kevin for his strength, Joseph for his way with words, and Doug for his wisdom and insight. I cried a lot. Then we headed back to the Rec Hall for a closing ceremony. We had to look each man in the eye, not touch them, not hug them, and not speak to them. Just look them in the eye acknowledging them for being them and for being there. It was the most difficult and emotional circle I have ever been in. Then it was goodbye.

Camp was an experience I will never forget. I learned so much about myself—my REAL self. I realized that the person I was at camp was the person I aspired to be in my everyday life—someone who lived honestly and kindly with others and the earth. I made some lasting bonds with people.

The next few days after camp were an adjustment for me. I cannot wait for next year. And next year maybe Ms. Honey Teriyaki will make an appearance!

I leave you with the words to the song that I sang at camp:

No Matter What—Andrew Lloyd-Webber

No matter what they tell us
No matter what they do
No matter what the teach us
What we believe is true

No matter what they call us
However they attack
No matter where they take us
We’ll find our own way back.

I can’t deny what I believe
I can’t be what I’m not
I know our love’s forever
I know no matter what

If only tears were laughter
If only night was day
If only prayers were answered
Then we would hear god say

No matter what they tell you
No matter what you do
No matter what they teach you
What you believe is true

And I will keep you safe and strong
And sheltered from the storm
No matter where it’s barren
Our dreams our being born

No matter who they follow
No matter who may lead
No matter how they judge us
I’ll be everyone you need

No matter if the sun don’t shine
Or if the skies are blue
No matter what the ending
My life began with you

I can’t deny what I believe
I can’t be what I’m not
I know this love’s forever
That’s all that matters now no matter what.

For Real! Seriously!

It's Britney Bitches!

2009-08-27T14:47:00.024-04:00

One time… I met a boy in a bar. He was Filipino and everyone thought we were cousins. We started making out (hey we were really drunk). Everyone in the bar was into us being “kissing cousins”-- like we were circus freaks. We told people that our parents were embarrassed that we were gay and to keep the secret in the family-- so we did! People ate it up. We were the star attraction at the bar! We made out all night and then exchanged numbers and friended each other on Facebook. A couple days later I text messaged him. I asked when I would see him again-- he didn’t respond.

About a month later, I ran into him at another bar. He was friendly, and again we told people we were cousins-- but no kissing this time. Later, I text messaged him to see what was up with him and he didn’t respond. What a total Asshole!

A few weeks later I got an email from him on Facebook:

Hey William,

Sorry I haven't written or texted. I'm kinda embarrassed about my behavior that night. I was drunk and dealing with a recent breakup. I still hope we can be friends!

Hey... I saw on your profile that you like Britney. Are you going to her show? I got this code for great seats for $10 and $30 (plus the horrible surcharges of course)... but the $30 seats are first level from floor! This is only for the show on the 26th. Dirt cheap! Those seats are regularly $160!

Here's the code: CVFANDF (put this in the "special offers and promotions" for "any price")

Have a great weekend.
Your cousin,
Ben

I was the REBOUND GUY??? Whatever!

I quickly pulled up TicketMaster and put in the code.
Sure enough, Amazing seats exactly where Ben said they would be. I called Herbert. We tried plugging in 2 seats but it kept shooting us in the $10 section way up in the stratosphere! We decided to buy separate seats in the $30 section and we would finagle our way to sit next to each other when we got there. Ben was forgiven. I shared the code with a bunch of girls on my floor at work.

I don’t care what any of you have to say that is bad about Britney Spears-- I love her. She is an entertainer. So what if she uses a vocoder-- who doesn’t these days? So what if she doesn’t dance full out--who does? It’s all about the back-up dancers anyway. The girl knows how to put on a show. And let me tell you, she got her groove back. And for someone that everyone seems to always be trashing, she sure is SELLING OUT arenas, selling albums, and last year she swept the MTV VMA’s. So the Bitch is doing something right. (except finding a man! all her back up dancers were so hot, yet she chose Federline???)

As a Gay man there are 3 goddesses on earth I believe you must see. Madonna; Kylie (who is SOLD OUT!! WAH!!); and Britney Spears. All 3 know how to put on a show. It doesn’t matter that Britney does not sing a single word and the whole show is lip synced, it’s still an amazing spectacle to behold.

The day of the concert, my friend Jeff (who went the night before) called me and said to wear something sassy since the concert is a gay Mecca (and my future husband might be there).

I decided to wear my red carnival shirt that says “STAFF, we’ll do it for a quarter!”—I thought it was circus sassy and appropriate. Besides, it’s my favorite red shirt. I always get noticed when I wear this shirt.

We got to Madison Square Garden early-- not sure if the concert would start on time since Madonna’s concert supposedly started at 8 but she did not make an appearance until somewhere closer to 10 with no pre-show!

We browsed the Britney paraphernalia for sale and some random girl even came up to me and asked me if I wanted to smell like Britney as she sprayed me with Britney’s Candies fragrance before I could even say no.

When we got to our seats, we realized that they were AMAZING. The stage was right in front of us set up like 3 rings of a circus.
Herbert decided to sit with me and as people started filling in we would ask to switch so that we could be next to each other. An usher appeared, looked at our tickets and told Herbert he was in a completely different section. So much for trading seats as I watched Herbert walk to another section. Herbert had the end seat of a row that was completely full except for one other seat in the middle. His seat was just as amazing, actually even more so.

The Pre-show started promptly at 8. Some girl named Kristina Debarge, and then some unknown boy band named One Call--
nothing special.

As they were singing, a girl and her boyfriend came up to me and insisted that I was in their seat. I started to argue. We pulled out our tickets and the guy quickly informed me that I too was in the wrong section. I realized that I was supposed to be in the same section as Herbert-- in that one empty seat!

I walked over to the section Herbert was in and immediately started asking people if they were together and if they could move over one seat. Everyone moved with no arguments and no issues.
I sat down next to a surprised Herbert, and to strange looks from the Asian girls who had just moved one seat over.

I later realized that the reason that everyone moved with no issues (and the Asian girls gave me strange looks) was BECAUSE my shirt said STAFF and had a carnival logo on it. They all probably thought I worked there! I sat down just in time to catch Jordin Sparks wail at the top of her range some of her most famous hits including No Air. The girls in front of us immediatley liked Herbert and me (the gays). One of them started talking to us about how she (Jordin Sparks) was better than Britney. As IF!

Once the pre-show was over, a time clock came on stating “The Circus will begin in X Minutes” counting down to Britney. I suddenly got a phone call.
“Are you wearing a red shirt bitch?” It was Ben all the way in section 86. He had spotted me!--(told you I always get noticed in this red shirt). I walked over to wear he was. His seats were even better than mine! (we were in section 97) NAILS!

I headed back to my seat as Herbert headed out to get himself a snack. At 30 seconds left in the countdown, Herbert appeared with Beer!
The lights dimmed… 10…9…8…7…6…5…4…3…2…1 and up came…. The Big Apple Circus! Britney tricked us! Actually, the performance was amazing—acrobats and gymnasts, clowns, the whole shebang, but really, it was the Big Apple Circus.

Then the lights dimmed again coming up on Perez Hilton (one of Britney’s biggest fans) dressed as a circus freak announcing the arrival of Britney Spears.

Britney dropped out of the ceiling in a golden ring as she performed one of the most amazing opening numbers I have ever seen for a concert: Circus. It was brilliant! Full of acrobats, and gymnasts, smoke and lights, there was so much to look at, it was overwhelming. I must say, the theme of circus is a brilliant theme to stage a comeback tour—and Britney ran with it! It’s Britney Bitches! She’s back!

She followed up that number with Piece of Me where she paraded herself around the stage in a gold cage like a fabulous exhibit (which she is), as headlines of newspapers covered the video monitors. --You want a piece of her?

She did not perform Gimme Gimme (from her darkest hours). Instead, she created a techno version of the song and had dancers perform an Asian
kung Fu-esqe dance to it. I do not believe she will ever perform that song again.

The show is bespectacled with circus acts, magic tricks and even a Bollywood number to Me Against the Music.

Britney then toned the lights down to a calming blue, got on the microphone, and in the most baby munchkin voice said “Thank you New York” and then she proceeded to climb onto an umbrella swing to sing her sad ballad-- EVERY TIME.
Well, she didn’t actually sing it, even though at one point she grabbed her gut and pushed on her diaphragm to give her extra air to hold the note out. Whatever!

As an added bonus, she threw in the number Slave for You!

And Toxic!

She winded the show down with another favorite-- Hit Me Baby One More Time and a video slide show of all her songs to the music of Break the Ice.

Her Final number- Womanizer, she was dressed as a sexy police officer. The whole show closed with fireworks and confetti! The crowd went wild.

After the show, the Britney gang met for karaoke at Xes bar and lounge.

Everyone was talking about the concert. Even the girls the next day at work. It was well worth the $30.00 bucks.

Now if only I could get Kylie tickets for real cheap!

For Real! Seriously!

The Sweetest Tea!

2009-07-28T11:35:00.009-04:00

Just sit right back and you'll hear a tale,
A tale of a fateful trip
that started from this tropic port
aboard this tiny ship. (Okay maybe not a tropic port)

The mate was a mighty sailing man,
the skipper brave and sure.
Five passengers set sail that day
for a three hour tour, a three hour tour.
(okay there were 6 of us not five)

The weather started getting rough,
the tiny ship was tossed,
If not for the courage of the fearless crew
the minnow would be lost, the minnow would be lost…

One time… A group of .
French people who were colonizing Morocco decided to liven up their boring afternoon tea by turning it into an all out party with music and dancing (and debauchery)—henceforth the tea dance was born. Tea dances eventually became the staple of genteel and high society; a chance for the rich to hob knob with one another. Today tea dances refer to any casual afternoon party.

In the gay world, tea dances or T-Dances usually refer to a Sunday afternoon or evening party, BUT may also a have reference to the cruising for anonymous sex between men in public restrooms or “tea rooms”. This past Sunday, I attended a T-dance aboard the Queen of Hearts riverboat for a Sea Tea.

Two years ago my friend Joe first called me about the Sea Tea in NYC and said “let’s do it”.
It costs $22, includes dinner, and a 3 hour tour (like Gilligan’s Island) aboard a riverboat with a cash bar and DJ. It sounded like a great deal. HOWEVER, little did we know, this particular T-Dance we attended 2 years ago was for ugly men only (well not really but that’s what it seemed like). For 3 hours we were stuck on board a riverboat with the ugliest men ever! STUCK like Gilligan! The bartender understood our dilemma and was kind enough to make us EXTRA STRONG Long Island ice teas in BIGGER CUPS so we could deal with all the ugliness. By the end of the trip we were trashed!

On Pride weekend this year, I gave the Sea Tea another chance and had a blast!—AND... there were CUTE BOYS! So, when I looked at the Sea Tea Schedule again and saw that this weekend was “Will Clark’s 6th and Final Bad Boys on the Hudson Sea Tea”, and that next week was Gay Officers Action League (the ugly Sea Tea that Joe and I first went on), and the week after that the Gay Men’s Choir, I knew that I had to get on the Sea Tea just one more time this season while the theme was going to be good.

Will Clark is a producer who fund raises for BREAKING THE CYCLE, an HIV campaign that spreads awareness and provides funding for research and other HIV organizations. Will Clark is known to do this using gay porn stars! Bad Boys on the Hudson was exactly that. I would be STUCK on a boat for 3 hours With HOT PORN STARS and STRIPPERS! YAY! (Just in case the rest of the cruise was ugly, I invited a big group of my friends including Joe again so that if anything, we would still have a good time).

I bought my tickets from the store called Wear-Me-Out (and a cute swimsuit too) on the Friday before. The next day Joe went to get his tickets and was told that they had sold out. “Why is everyone going on this Sea Tea?” the clerk at Wear-Me-Out asked. He sent Joe to another location for tickets. Joe got his tickets from Steel Gym.

We decided to meet at XES for drinks beforehand.
At 6:15 PM as Herbert and I exited the subway train at the stop near XES, we were greeted by a huge thunderstorm. Pouring rain, lightning and LOUD thunder, strong winds, even hail! Though XES was only one block from the train station, there was no way we could get to it. We hunkered down with the other 30 people in the train station and just watched the water come pouring down the stairs. It was like being in a bad horror movie, hunkering down as some giant sea creature trashed the city above us.
I didn’t even have phone service to call Joe to let him know what happened. Herbert was in a panic. “I’m not going out on the water in a storm” he repeatedly said. I suggested that large storms like this pass within minutes and that we would probably be fine. A couple of people stripped down to their bikini and swim shorts (guess they came from the pier) and braved the rain. I was wearing my swimsuit under my jeans—I could have done that too, but didn’t want to mess up my hair! At 6:50 PM with no sign of the rain ending, we decided to head down on the train to Christopher Street--the station nearest the pier --and see what happens.

At the Christopher Street station it was blue sunny skies. I quickly called Joe and told him that we would meet him and his friend Rebecca on the boat. The four of us met on the pier and waited for 2 other friends to arrive. The Queen of Hearts would set sail at 7:30pm.

At 7:25 PM Frankie and Pedro still had not arrived! My heart was racing. They called me and said “we are in a cab”. I quickly replied “if this boat sets sail before you get here, I’m leaving without you”.

At 7:29 PM they arrived (just in time) and we all boarded the ship. We were immediately greeted by the sight of hot Porn stars in nothing but underwear and leather attire posing for pictures and asking people to buy raffle tickets. We All ordered drinks from bar and headed up to the top deck (the dance floor) and open air.

Herbert was still very reluctant. “This sunny weather is just the eye of the storm. I don’t think we should be doing this!” he said.

Rebecca began working the room asking random gay boys if they had previously met her before. LOVE IT!

On the top deck, I decided to approach one of the porn stars and ask him what the tickets were for. “They are for different prizes” said the hot almost naked star. “The tickets are a dollar each all going to HIV charities, but for $10 dollars I’ll use the roll of tickets to measure your inseam, and for $20 you can measure mine“he said.

Figuring it was all for charity and since I was taller than he was-- and would get MORE tickets, I opted for the $10 measuring of MY inseam.

He quickly got down his knees and immediately starting biting my cock through my jeans. OMG!! I immediately got aroused as he continued to play with me this way as he slowly measured my inseam using the tickets. It was so hot! I only wished that I had asked for the $20 dollar version—would he have allowed me to do that to him through his leather jockstrap? After I was rock hard, he stood up, collected the money gave me a thank you kiss and handed me my tickets. Everyone around immediately swarmed to buy tickets from him including Pedro who insisted that the only reason he was buying tickets was because he “won his bike” from a raffle on a sea tea last year. For me, I didn’t care if I won the raffle at this point. I already got my $10 worth.=)

We roamed the ship mingling with the crowd before deciding to head downstairs to dinner on the second level. I really wasn’t hungry and basically ordered another drink and had some pasta salad. As we were dining, another porn star dressed too in a leather jock was accosted by Rebecca. Not wanting to spend another $10 to $20 dollars on tickets just so that I could have this guy molest me, and wanting a picture for this blog, I offered him 5 bucks to pose and take a regular picture with me. He agreed.
As I stood up next to him and started to smile, He immediately pushed me down to my knees and shoved his full basket in my face. It was hot! People egged me on. Hell for 5 bucks what the hell… I did what I wanted! When it was done he said… “Maybe you should pay $10 for that”. He thanked me and handed me 5 tickets.

We roamed all the decks of the ship enjoying the debauchery of it all, Rebecca commenting “I’m a gay boy in a girls’ body! If I were a real gay boy I’d probably get more cock! Straight men are so boring!” I love Rebecca! Joe kept spilling his drinks on himself--not sure if it was because he was as drunk as I was, or if because the ship seemed to be rocking more and more as the weather starting getting worse again.

Another round of drinks and our group separated.
While having some dessert on the lower level, I got a text message from Joe. “Come up to the dance floor, there is some live cock up here”. We headed up in time to catch several of the porn stars put on a live show for us. HOT! HOT! HOT! (and I'm just a pervert).

When the show ended, a flagger appeared.

He was okay. Being one of the core team members of NYC Flaggers, I introduced myself to him. He quickly handed me his flags. “Go for it” he said. I quickly climbed on the box and I put on a show despite my injured wrist.
I could feel the ship really rocking now. I mean really rocking. Lightning was lighting up the skies on the horizon. Maybe Herbert was right-we could be in danger. Suddenly, large waves started washing over the sides and spraying the crowd. We quickly headed downstairs where we would be shielded from the elements.

On the lower deck, the porn stars had gathered and were announcing the numbers from the raffle. I didn’t win, but like I said… I already got my money’s worth.

We went back upstairs, and danced a little more. The weather seeemed to be holding. It was nearing 10 PM and the ship was going to dock. It was so hot and humid on the ship I had my shirt half off. I had to use the bathroom. Pedro followed me. As I entered the bathroom, Pedro waited outside. The stalls were all full. As I waited, a hot couple behind me said “that’s a really hot look for you, with your tan skin and white belt, shirt pulled up”. They started rubbing my stomach. Just then the stall door opened and a leather daddy came out and I saw another guy behind him jump off the toilet. I had found “The Tea Room”. I really did have to pee and Pedro was waiting. As I stood in the stall peeing, the couple behind me kept saying “don’t you know there is a 3 person minimum in the stall here?” If Pedro wasn’t waiting for me I might have invited them in.

As I exited the bathroom, I looked down to the lower level and saw one of the porn stars Ty Hudson autographing his pictures.
I quickly rushed down and asked if he was selling them. “No, I’m giving them away” he said. I quickly found the two that appealed to me most and had him sign them as he explained to me that some guy wrote his college thesis on the last porn film he did (okay, compared to that guy maybe I'm not all that much of a pervert).

Just as he finished singing his name, the lights flashed signaling that the boat had docked and that we all needed to disembark.

This was one 3 hour tour that I wished did get marooned like Gilligan.

We headed to a pizza place for some late night pizza (as we usually do after a night of drinking in NYC). As we were headed to the train station, the sky opened up again for round two of the storm. Herbert starting freaking out again. “We need to hurry and get underground” he shouted.

We quickly headed to the safety of the underground as the giant monster trashed the city above us again.

For Real! Seriously!

Fire Island Part 1: Cherry Grove

2009-07-20T14:13:00.011-04:00

One time… I was reading the comments on my blog (yes I read them so please write them because I do enjoy them and listen to what you have to say!), and Chelle wrote:

“Hey do you know I heard of Fire Island only because I was watching real housewives of???? One of em...”

She was talking about the Real Housewives of New York City and an episode where Bethenny announced that she was going to Fire Island or as she called it “Gay Island” and how she “just wanted to dance until her tits fell off”. I think everyone was secretly hoping they would actually fall off... They didn't.

Fire Island is an Island resort community off the coast of Long Island. Many people know of it because of the movie LAST SUMMER (1969), or the gay references to it on the show Will & Grace.
Only two communities on the Island are gay communities--The Pines (the men) and Cherry Grove (the women). They have earned the reputation of being a place in which gay people can go to escape New York City and lose their inhibitions. The Pines and the Grove are open to all people despite your sexual preference.

I first heard of Fire Island as a young gay man discovering a hot series of gay porn movies by Michael Lucas (see my pic with him in the previous blog!) called Fire Island Cruising.

Each year I make a trek out there at least a couple of times just to enjoy the beach and the men. I don’t have to worry there, about getting beat up for being gay (yes, prejudice is still very strong against homosexuals even in NYC).

When I got Chelle’s comment, I realized I had not made it out there yet and it was already mid-summer! I decided to make a trip.

You can take the Subway to the Train, then to the ferry-- a total time of about 3 hours, or you can drive out to the ferry in Sayville from 1-2 hours depending on traffic. My friend Jose offered to drive and my new friend Pedro joined us.

It was a rough Sunday morning for me because I was out the night before celebrating Herbert’s birthday, and Jose wanted to leave early.
I probably had only 3 hours of sleep!

Once we were passed the Cross Island Expressway there was no traffic and we got to the ferry in about an hour.

Normally I go to the Pines, but lately everyone has been complaining that the “Chelsea Boy attitude” has gotten bad and that Cherry Grove was becoming the more pleasant place to be.
We decided to go to Cherry Grove.

After purchasing $14 round trip ferry tickets, we boarded (the top level of) the ferry and headed out to open sea.

It was such a beautiful day and the combination of fresh air, the ocean, and some nice lebeesians (lesbians) sitting behind us made the 20 minute ride pleasant.

As we neared the shore of Gay Island, the first things we saw were the resorts and mansions, followed by small boats docked.

As we pulled up to the dock, it was a welcoming sight to see the American Flag flying high, NEXT TO the Gay Rainbow Flag—freedom to be gay!

Once docked, we headed straight up the boardwalk passed the dunes to the beach.
The dunes are a very important part of Fire Island. It is what keeps Gay Island from washing away. The beach itself
is not as beautiful a beach as Hawaii, but nevertheless, it is a beach and you can hear the ocean, and smell the ocean. We met up with another group of friends, spread out some blankets, put our beach towels on top of that, shucked down to our swimsuits, and laid out.

Although it was a beautiful day--81 degrees, the Atlantic Ocean is still very frigid. You might walk in or jump in quickly, but it is way too cold to stay in for any extended time. For me, it was a time to catch up on my Harry Potter Reading, even-out my farmers tan by only putting sunscreen on my arms, AND a time to show off my ASSets.

Oh Yes its mine, yes it’s real, and yes it’s spectacular!

A few brave souls show off everything! (I'm not that comfortable)

We enjoyed the beautiful weather and the ocean for a couple of hours before we decided to head for some shade and really explore the Grove. Cherry Grove, like the pines, is full of boardwalks and cute beach houses. Jose, Pedro and I walked around looking at people’s houses and gardens, trying to figure out if next season we might want to go in on a timeshare. I think I will.

It’s amazing how each house has its own little personality. You might find a much lived in beach house, next to a very well groomed house. You might find a house with very manicured gardens, or one with wild English gardens. Jose caught a picture of me and Pedro looking at a garden… we look like Jehovah’s witnesses trying to get in! (Not that there is anything wrong with being a Jehovah’s Witness).

Cute shops and bars pepper the boardwalks.

Just past the houses next to the dock is the main resort in the Grove called the Ice Palace. They have a beautiful swimming pool that you can pay to use. They also have a dance floor where they hold afternoon parties (tea dances). We opted not to dance or use the pool this time, but decided to have some food and drinks at The Island Breeze.

It was getting to be late afternoon and the combination of salt air and sun made us tired. We decided to line up for the next ferry and head back to the mainland. The sun starting to set over the ocean made for some beautiful pictures.

As we pulled up to the mainland harbor, they killed the boat engine and we coasted in.

It was a perfect day to spend with friends on the beach. As we were leaving, I heard a lesbian say "it's time to find a new island, all the straight people are taking over!". As much as I would like to say everyone is welcome, I do find myself becoming resentful that a lot of straight people are coming to Gay Island simply because they saw how wonderful a place it is on TV. The thing is, we Homosexuals made it this way because straight people made it difficult for us to go anywhere else. Now that straight people want to come, we open our doors with welcome arms, BUT... Straight people please keep this in mind: This is still a gay resort. If you do not want to see 2 men kissing or 2 women kissing, or people being comfortable with themselves, then dont come. Don't take from us this one last place where we can still be gay. You have already taken away Chelsea and our right to get married. You guys do not approve of us showing affection in YOUR public places, so it is only fair that you follow those same rules YOU created in our public places. Fair is Fair.

Now as for the Pines... That is another outNabout adventure that I will have later this summer-- and you can be sure I will share those debaucheries with you then...

For Real, Seriously!

Serendipity!

2009-07-07T16:02:00.010-04:00

One time… In 1853 in Saratoga New York,

a bitchy queen by the name of Cornelius Vanderbilt repeatedly refused to eat the French fries that came with his meal, bitching that they were cut to too thick, were too soggy, and full of grease.
He kept sending the fries back to the kitchen where the chef George Crum repeatedly tried to cut thinner fries (and probably spit on them) only to have them sent back again.

Finally, Chef George Crum decided he would fix this queens bitchy attitude by slicing the potatoes so paper thin and frying them really crispy in the grease. Initially Vanderbilt bitched that they were too thin now to eat them with a fork, but upon having a few, realized that they were delicious. Instantly they became a hit and everybody in the place wanted a serving, and before long, the whole world wanted some. Serendipity: the invention of potato chips.

Sometimes, the best things are discovered serendipitously. Several things happened to me this way in this past week. For instance...

The world is mourning the loss of the King of Pop Michael Jackson.

He passed away on June 25, 2009 at 2:26 pm. I was at work when a bunch of media buyers started stirring as the reports of his death came over to us on TMZ only 7 minutes after it happened.

Call him what you want, a freak, a child molester, a star, a tortured soul--whatever you want, but you cannot deny that he was a musical genius who changed the face of entertainment. Most of us can think of a different Michael Jackson song (and nose) for every momentous occasion in our own lives.

I was going home on June 27 from a dance gig, when the subway trains in NYC went awry. What should have taken me 15 minutes to get home from Harlem’s 125th street had already taken me 45 minutes, and I was still at 125th Street! I called Herbert (He usually has a good sense of direction) who guided me further into Harlem’s east side by mistake. I was trying to get to another train line. I headed west in hopes of finding the D Train.

SERENDIPITY! I came across the famous Apollo Theatre where a celebration of Michael Jackson’s Life was taking place.
Up on the marquis were the words: In memory of Michael Jackson a true Apollo legend. Below the marquis, were thousands of people laughing, crying, and mourning the loss of the musical genius.

The whole block was lined with people of all ages, singing and exchanging his music, --signing the walls to express their love for this man. It was overwhelming and amazing.
I couldn’t help but to wipe a tear away from my own eyes. I am glad that I happened on to this celebration of life. I never even thought to go down to the Apollo to be a part of this, and here I was being a part of history.

The next morning when I got out of bed, I immediately fell over in pain. My right heel hurt. 2 weeks prior, my doctor told me that I needed to stay off of it for 10 months. No dance gigs. The dance gig I did the day before (against doctors orders) must have done more damage. I had the NYC Gay Pride Parade today. I was supposed to march with the New York City Flaggers alongside the S.W.I.S.H. float! What was I going to do?

2 hours later, some ice and an anti-inflammatory, a slight limp, and I was on my way to the parade. When I got to the parade SERENDIPITY!—because of my injury I was allowed to ride on the S.W.I.S.H. float rather than walk the pavement.

But wait. SERENDIPITY again! But who should be walking by and stopping to look at our float but Gay Porn King himself Michael Lucas and one of his hotties. I quickly jumped off the float and posed for a picture—this was one hot manwich!

Not even one week later,
having gotten the Friday off for the 4th of July holiday, Herbert and I decided to venture out for a Thursday night on the town.
The city was dead. Most of the gay boys had headed to either Fire Island or P-Town. Every bar was dead except one: Splash. But it was college night and sure to be full of twinks. Ugh! I like my men manly, muscular and hairy NOT boyish and hairless.

Just as I was about to call it a night, Herbert noticed one of the twink go-go boys. “I think that’s the boy from the Beyonce viral video for Put a Ring on It” he said.

SERENDIPITY!
(okay, not really but yes really), suddenly the song came on and sure enough, Shane Mercado began doing the choreography that made him famous across the world on YouTube as the skinny boy in underwear and a nipple shirt, prancing around like a girl in his dorm room.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I0Rjc7HSt0E

2 days later, I was helping my friend Pedro scope out new places to live since his current nutcase roommate tried to commit suicide yet again.
We had taken the dreaded G train (the only subway that doesn’t go to Manhattan) to places such as Clinton Hill and Bedsty in Brooklyn. Scary!

We later found ourselves in Woodside, Queens. A nice cute neighborhood at Rita Brady Square and 61st Street. SERENDIPITY! A street fair! It was way past lunchtime and we had not had breakfast either.
SERENDIPITY again!
A booth that said Dollar burgers! And I’m not talking about crappy thin burgers, these burgers were better than McDonald’s, fire grilled and flavored in Garlic, Bacon, BBQ, or Ranch. Why had I not seen this booth at any other street fair in NYC before? Because the booth was sitting in front of a butcher shop.
Ottomanelli’s Butcher shop had decided to throw up a booth for the day. The burgers were Delicious!! And only $1 dollar each! Who could complain?

SERENDIPITY yet again!
The apartment in this neighborhood was just the right size, price, and in a great neighborhood. My friend will take it! We head back to the train. SERENDIPITY yet one more time! Fried Oreos!
I had heard of fried Twinkies (NOT twinks), on the food network, where sugary treats like Twinkies and Snickers bars were battered and deep fried. The hot oil changes the composition and flavors of the treats making it into a different treat altogether. I had never tried any of them, but now was my opportunity.

I watched the man batter and deep fry six Oreos. He then dusted them with powdered sugar. I bite into one. The insides are warm and gooey, almost like caramel except not caramel and still Oreo tasting. I end up eating 5 out of the six, Pedro having only 1.

Sometimes, the best experiences come from the things that we don’t plan. Sometimes we need to just wake up, leave the house, and see where life takes us.

My mother claims that she had her tubes tied after my brother was born so I was an unplanned pregnancy. Like I said....the best things in life are sometimes unplanned.

For Real! Seriously!

Adults Only!: Folsom Street East

2009-06-25T17:35:00.011-04:00

***The following blog is intended for mature audiences only***

***It contains pictures of nudity and adult language. If you are under the age of 18 please shut your bowser now***

One time… In Atlanta, this older couple that I barely knew at the time, Ed and Brian-- came up to me on my birthday in the night club where I was a club kid, and gave me a box. I opened it to find a pair of expensive black leather pants. They were made of REAL leather. I was so excited! They asked me to try them on and they fit like a glove. I couldn’t believe they got the size exactly right without asking me my size, or measuring me. Or maybe they did measure me somehow whenever they would cop a feel of my ass as I walked by. I asked them how they knew my size and why me.

“We saw them, knew it was your birthday, and we thought your ass would look good in them. We just guessed at the size” they said.

I decided to wear them the next night to the “fetish” club called the Chamber.
I wouldn’t say it was a hardcore fetish club, because it had become trendy for everyone (guys and girls, weirdoes and preppies) to go and watch the fetish shows. There was a guy in the show (that I knew) who was getting whipped that night. After the show, I asked Carlos “Do you like getting whipped?”

“Not really” he replied.

“Then why do you do it?” I asked.

“Because it pays well and I have a high threshold for pain” he said.

Watching Carlos get whipped was hot!
I thought to myself-- maybe I’d like to get whipped and get paid for it too—not that I had a high threshold for pain, but simply that I might like it.

I never explored those options, nor did I really explore the world of leather. I am fascinated and turned on by it though. I consider myself sometimes submissive in bed, and don’t mind the occasional spanking,
slaps on the face, being spit on, or WS (Okay I know this is TMI for some of you!). I think it’s hot to be dominated by a really rough manly guy. Guys like those in the Tom of Finland artwork that portray gays to be tough and masculine-- real men.

Anyway, the really big leather festival in the United States takes place on Folsom Street in San Francisco. I have never been to it, but would like to go one day.
NYC has its own version of it called Folsom Street East. It takes place in the summer on 28th street in front of the Eagle (the gay leather club). I went last year and the eye candy was amazing. I knew I was going again this year.

This year Folsom Street East took place on Father’s Day. I decided what better way to celebrate than by spending the day looking for a hot leather daddy! There was a chance of rain, but I knew I had a really big umbrella!
The eye candy wasn’t as great this year, though I’d say that the people were much more daring. There were naked people outNabout everywhere!

Herbert, Ivan and I decided to find a nice spot,
sit, and people watch. The amount of diversity in things that turn people on is amazing. From guys who like being tied up as if being kidnapped by a spider, to guys who just like wearing ropes as clothes.
A lot of these guys were not that hot, but the thought of them just walking around in nothing but rope was somewhat erotic and quite a turn on- not that I’m ready to go naked in public with anything on but rope.

The atmosphere just oozed sex. There was a stilt walker who had no problems bending over to let a guy lick his ass.

Or how about the guy in shackles who found a dominant master and deiced to just go behind some scaffolding and let him tweak his nipples and make out.

Penises were flopping around everywhere! There were your average Joes walking around naked. Then there was your Latin guy, semi hard, uncut,
and flopping all over the place! HOT!! They were trying to recruit men for their nudist group.

And then there was the guy with the freakishly fat cock wrapped in towel.
I told Herbert “this is what happens when you use your penis pump (like Austin Powers) too much!” We watched a guy attempt to swallow it only getting the head in his mouth. Feeling a bit self-conscious, they headed behind one of the tents! Is this legal? Someone else commented “talk about pride, if I had a cock like that I’d show it off too!”

There were tons of people who despite the hot humid weather, still wore their latex/PVC outfits (the animals as they were called).
One of them was sweating so much, we watched a trickle of sweat leaking out of his pant leg… or was that sweat? Hmmm….

Who knew that ski gear could be so erotic?

Several girls walked around in fetish gear also, one asking another guy to whip her on her titties.
We watched and winced as we heard the whip crack as it slapped her boobs leaving what look like scratch marks that a Tiger would make. She loved it.

Even Sarah Palin was there walking around!

At last year’s Folsom event, I fell in love with a guy walking around in jeans and a harness. He was there again this year, and this time I spoke to him and asked if he didn’t mind posing for a picture. He is the epitome of hot! Perfect in every way… and NICE too! Why can’t I find a boyfriend like this? Why can’t I look like this? (I’d date myself!).

Since it was Fathers day, of course I found myself a daddy! Well actually I was too shy to ask him to be my daddy. I was too shy to even ask him for a picture. Herbert asked him for me! “Oh daddy, I’ve been really bad!”

A couple of celebrities showed up to the festivities. Famous gay porn director Chichi La Rue hosted the shows that were taking place on the main stage (mostly rock performers) and from Project Runway Jack Mackenroth (perhaps getting design ideas?).

At around 5PM it started to rain. Lucky I brought with me a big umbrella. Me and several friends with umbrellas, banded together, and just watch the naked gay boys scrambling for cover. It was rather funny actually.
What where they afraid of? Messing up their hair? ‘Cause they sure didn’t have to worry about getting their designer clothes wet.

Another funny thing was the table set up for Crystal Meth Anonymous. What is so anonymous about walking up to a table in the middle of a crowded fair to say you have a problem with crystal meth? (Crystal Meth is NO LAUGHING MATTER!)

The highlight of the whole day though, was watching this big burly tough guy get spanked. He was getting spanked hard and his ass cheeks where crimson. As he got smacked harder and harder, his dick got harder and harder.
It was hot watching this big tough guy get dominated like that. You could see the crowd adjusting themselves as it happened. When he was done spanking him, the dominant master sweetly kissed him and his wounds, to show that he loved him. It was all so hot! Even the hottie that I see every month at Habibi seemed to be enjoying the show.

After posing with Mr. Leather for some pictures, Herbert, Ivan, and I decided to grab some dinner in Chelsea.

Reflecting on the whole day of events, I realized that I’m not exactly sure to what extreme I would like my sexual limits pushed—though I do want them pushed. I don’t want to be beaten to a pulp or made to do things that I don’t want to do, or be degraded and treated like an animal. But I do know that I find a manly man, in control, knowing what he wants, extremely hot—especially if I can totally trust in him to let go, knowing that he won’t hurt me. I also think that NYC is great in the fact that so many diverse people can live together and celebrate their diversity with such a street fair.

I once wrote 25 random things about myself and mentioned "fetishes I did not care to discuss"... now you know....

So… with that being said… who wants to be my daddy?

For Real! Seriously!

Black Sesame Ice Cream???

2009-06-16T18:27:00.026-04:00

One time… (I don’t remember any of this) as a baby, my grandfather who was visiting Hawaii from the mainland came to visit. He took me out to a Dairy Queen and that afternoon, brought me back home to my parents with really bad brown squirts…My mom told him it was the ice cream.

One time… as an adult…while touring with a children’s theatre company based out of Atlanta, I complained every single afternoon of having mild stomach pain (no squirts or gas, just pain). Tisza was on that tour with me and she said to me :

“Maybe it’s something you are eating every day. Is there something that you have consistently every day?”

I thought about it.

There was something I was having every day: MILK CHUG. I always stopped by the convenient store and bought a banana and a MILK CHUG for breakfast. “Maybe you have a milk allergy or are lactose intolerant” Tisza said.

I stopped drinking milk for a whole week. I even cut out cheese and ice cream. That whole week I did not have any stomach pain. I went to my doctor who said to me “you are probably lactose intolerant. Ask your parents, especially your mom, because it’s really common in Asians”.

“But I have been having milk and cheese and ice cream my whole life!” I explained.

“Well, people can develop lactose intolerance, especially since we are not baby cows and shouldn’t be drinking baby cow formula” my doctor said.

I called my mom.

“Yes, you always had a problem. Remember when your grandfather took you to the Dairy Queen?” she said.

“I was a baby!”

“Well you had diarrhea all over the place, it was running down your legs” She told me.

“When were you going to tell me this? You always gave us ice cream and milk and cheese when we were growing up!” I asked her.

“Because milk is good for you, good for you bones. Besides, you stopped getting sick after a while”.

From that point on, I stopped eating all dairy products which was a HUGE mistake. I didn’t get the upset stomach anymore, but when I did have milk—it was really bad. Diarrhea 20 minutes afterwards that smelled like a rat crawled up my ass and died—10 days dead! When I was having the daily milk chug, I had some sort of tolerance. Now I had none.

Today I take a pill every morning called Digestive Advantage Lactose Intolerance.
It’s much cheaper to pay $10 for 30 pills and take it every day once a day, rather than buy Lactaid pills at $8 for 10 and having to pop two EACH time I have something with milk in it (which could be several times a day).

Because of the magic pill I’m allowed to have Ice cream. Digestive Advantage doesn’t always work though. SOMETIMES, (not always) I will still get diarrhea but with Digestive Advantage, at least it’s not 20 minutes later. I won’t even have stomach pain. I’ll just go to the bathroom and notice that it’s not solid.

Some of my friends say it isn’t fair. They think that I can skip the pill, pig out on a large meal,
and then for dessert have some sort of milk product—where the milk will go right through my system taking the large meal (and all the fat and calories) along with it. Sometimes, after a large meal if I feel bloated I will do just that, drink a glass of milk. TADA! Instant flat stomach! HA! (yes thats really a pic of my stomach-- is my new years abs plan working??)

I usually take my pill every morning because I want to be able to have milk products, especially to cool off in the hot NYC summer months. So what do I do to cool off?

Well, I could go chasing after the Big Gay Ice Cream Truck, but there is really nothing gay about it (except maybe the way I run screaming after it). It’s still Mr. Softee Ice Cream just hiding behind a rainbow colored logo and clever marketing.

Or I could have
famous Soap Opera stars like Aiden Turner and Kamar De Los Reyes from All My Children come to my office and make me smoothies. But that doesn’t happen every day.
Besides, it makes it a little awkward fawning over a soap star especially when his wife works for the same ad agency. Just think how embarrassing it would be to explain drooling over this picture on your desktop-- to his wife!

So… to cool off, I head down to the Original Chinatown Ice Cream Factory just off the corners of Bayard and Mott Streets in Chinatown.

It is considered one of NYC Chinatown’s oldest businesses having been there for over 28 years.
Known for their uniquely flavored ice creams, they have taken America’s most popular dessert and coalesced it with an exotic Chinese twist, that makes them an unofficial landmark.

As you walk into the very busy store,
you will notice such flavors as Ginger, Almond Cookie, Wasabi, Zen Butter, and Black Sesame to name a few--not your average flavors.

I decided to go for their signature flavor of Black Sesame Seed. The cream itself looks exactly like Oreo Cookies and Cream until you get up close and realize all those tiny black flecks-- are toasted black sesame seeds in vanilla ice cream. The vanilla ice cream is just the right amount of creamy and just the right amount of sweet. The black sesame seeds gives it an Oreo-esque flavor (or is that my mind just playing a trick on me?), but with a hint of (burnt)toastiness that totally compliments the cream. DELICIOUS! Even Herbert who tried a bit of mine said that the next time he came he would get the black sesame seed ice cream.

Herbert decided on the Zen Butter. It looked like a creamy French vanilla ice cream but the taste was to die for. We couldn’t put our finger on it at first. In the cream you see toasted white sesame seeds, but there is something more to it. It wasn’t until later that I picked up a menu and saw that it also contained peanut butter. This did not taste like JUST a peanut butter ice cream. It was DELICIOUS and like its name, brought you a sense of sweet Zen.

If you are looking for a nice way to cool off this summer, and are sick of the overly sweet flavors of Coldstone (in my opinion), try The Original Chinatown Ice Cream Factory. If anything, you get to try something new and I promise you won’t be disappointed.

As for my lactose intolerance….Did the milk pill work for me?

I wasn’t running to the bathroom 20 minutes later. I got home several hours later with no stomach pains or excessive gas. But the ice cream still went right through me. Instant flat stomach.!

For Real! Seriously!

Not Just Elevator Music Anymore...

2009-06-05T12:36:00.011-04:00

One time… I met a boy at a club. We played a really intense flirtation game, and then I got sick, left him at the club, and woke up on the train the next morning in Brooklyn. The following week, I ran into the same boy at the same club and again the really intense flirtation game began. That weekend was my birthday and I ended up with someone else, but not before giving the boy my number.

He called me and the following weekend we met for drinks. He had a cold and wasn’t feeling well, but didn’t want to lose me again for the third week in row. After a night of partying, he insisted that I go home with him to his house on Long Island. We knew nothing was really going to happen because he was sick and he started coughing really badly.

To be honest, I really enjoyed his company, so I said why not? -- It doesn’t have to be about sex; and we headed to his house. It was a big beautiful house, in a nice neighborhood full of trees. It did not feel like NYC anymore, but rather like a real neighborhood. It was an amazing spring day. The sun was shining brightly.

He put me in his bed, a very nice sleigh bed with all white down pillows and a white down comforter. It was like lying on a cloud. He opened up all the windows of the house so that a nice breeze was blowing through it. It was very relaxing, and we fell asleep.

A few hours later, I woke up to find that he was in his living room putting a DVD in.
He explained to me that he had made a donation to a foundation, and they had sent him a DVD and tickets to the concert of a jazz musician by the name of Chris Botti. He just wanted to put the DVD in for music and he was coming back to bed. I sat down on his black leather couch and watched for a minute. I LOVED the music. It was a jazz trumpet player playing his own rendition of Ave Maria with the Boston Pops orchestra. We decided to watch the whole thing. I got cold on the couch and like a gentleman; he covered me with a blanket.

I was mesmerized by the music. It was so calm and relaxing. Chris Botti played the jazz trumpet while special guest like Sting, Lucia Micarelli, Katherine Mcphee, Josh Groban, Steven Tyler, Sy Smith, Yo-Yo Ma, and John Mayer performed. One of the Josh Groban songs made me cry.
I fell asleep again with the breeze blowing through the house and the relaxing jazz sounds of Chris Botti playing on the surround sound stereo system. It’s one of those pleasant kinds of moments that get etched in your mind forever. I woke up coughing—I think I caught his cold.

Growing up in Hawaii, I was never a big jazz fan. One time… in the 6th grade, Kenny G released a song called Songbird and everyone I knew loved the song. But that was pretty much the extent of my jazz exposure until I reached college. As a music major, I had to take classes on music history and ethnomusicology, where I learned about jazz, and how musicians would all take turns improvising melodies over the same 5 chords. I could appreciate the musicianship and how talented jazz players were, but I never really liked it. I classified it as elevator music that only old people like my parents listened to.

But here I am on a couch loving this jazz concert of Chris Botti.
Is it that I have finally matured enough to really appreciate jazz? Am I just getting old? Or is there something more to Chris Botti?

I knew that I wanted a ticket to the concert in NYC on June 4th -- not because the boy had a ticket and was going (I Like him a lot and we are becoming great friends, but he has a lot of drama including a boyfriend!).

Chris Botti would be playing at the Beacon Theatre on the upper west side. With my work schedule getting more and more hectic with the upfront negotiations beginning (the negotiating season between ad agencies and TV Networks), and me having to stay later and later, I decided I would buy a ticket the day of the performance. In the meantime, the CD on my IPod would do.

The night before the concert I realized that as much as I wanted to go, maybe I should spend that money on something that I needed—not that I didn’t have the money, just that I’ve been trying to really budget my money. I text messaged the guy and told him I hope he enjoyed his concert tomorrow.

He text messaged back: “How do you remember the concert is tomorrow, I forgot about it”.

“I remembered because I wanted to go and was still thinking of buying a ticket” I texted back.

“I have an extra ticket, you can come with me, and the tickets were free remember?” he said.

“Why me?” (And not your boyfriend I thought).

“Because you deserve to go”.

He told me to meet him in front of the Beacon at 10 till 8 the next night. All day at work I was worried that this would be the night that we pull an all-nighter and I wouldn't be able to go. I got out at 7:15 PM and headed on the 2 express train one stop from Times Square to 72nd Street. The Beacon Theatre was literally in sight of the 72nd Street station.

On the corner of Broadway, ticket scalpers shouting “Chris Botti, Chris Botti tickets”. A Woman walking next to me asked her friends how much she thought tickets to the concert were for. Having looked online several times, I kindly informed her that the cheapest tickets I saw were $50. “Oh I got my ticket for less than that, I was wondering about tickets from the scalper—I’m sitting way up there and maybe he has better seats. Are you going to the concert?” she asked.

“Yes” I replied.

“Where are you sitting and how much did you pay?” she asked.

I really didn’t know where I was sitting and the tickets were free, so I lied and said “in the orchestra, and I don’t know how much they were, a client of mine gave it to me”. I got worried. What if my tickets were right next to hers and not in the orchestra!

When I got to the theatre I looked up at the marquis.
It said in bright lights CHRIS BOTTI SOLD OUT TONIGHT. If I had purchased a ticket day-of-performance like my original plan was to be, I would not have been able to get in. Wow! Can you believe my luck?

I met the guy at the Starbucks on the corner. We ordered some coffee, he handed me my ticket. Row K Orchestra. Awesome seats! And I’m not next that lady!

We entered the theatre just as the lights went down and Chris Botti opened up with "Ave Maria"--just like the DVD. We got to our seats and I was immediately mesmerized. The whole audience was mesmerized.

Chris shared stories between sets about how he dropped out of college 4 months shy of graduating to play with Frank Sinatra, and how he toured with Sting who in the same day wrecked him AND made his career by taking him out of his band, and making him the opening act.

Chris’s band is amazing too.
I cannot even begin to describe his drummer, his piano player, and his guitar and bass players.
All I can say is go buy the DVD "Chris Botti in Boston" and you will understand and see firsthand how amazing they are. Remember, I am not a jazz fan!

There were two special guest performers from off of the DVD.
Lucia Micarelli, a very talented violinist whose rendition of Emmanuel with Chris actually made me cry. I have never heard the violin sound so clear and haunting. The other guest was Sy Smith, who happens to be the cousin of the guitar player.
Sy is a singer with one of those really sweet voices. She sang “The Look of Love”. She is also talented in that she can scat bebop and sound exactly like Chris Botti’s trumpet.

There were even funny moments like the band beginning a number having no clue where their drummer stepped out to-—he just wasn’t there! and the piano player had to call the dummer up to come back on his cell phone. And a moment when the guitar player decided to play Rod Stewart’s song “If you think I’m sexy”.

They also did the Flamenco Sketches—originally made famous by Miles Davis. It is one of those songs that each of the musicians would solo on over the same 5 chords—just like I learned in college!

They ended the whole evening by turning off all the microphones, and lights (except for one spotlight) and Chris stepping into the audience, and playing the last song as if we were in a dark smoky bar. AMAZING!

As the lights came up, I got to see the newly renovated look of the Beacon Theatre.
It was stunning. Golden statues of Greek gods. I’d say this was one of the most beautiful theatres I have ever been in.

Chris Botti is an amazing musician, and I have to hold him up there with my favorites, and do I dare say... yes up there with Britney and Madonna. Britney and Madonna know how to put on a show. But Chris Botti knows how to put on a show with just music, not dance, not words, but pure music. That is true talent.

He will be performing this concert again in New Jersey in November (he is on a 5 year world tour), and at the end of this year, he is doing a 3 week residency of 44 shows at the Blue Note Jazz Club in New York so be sure to catch him. In the meantime, check out the DVD CHRIS BOTTI IN BOSTON. It will be well worth your time to culture yourself with some jazz music.

For Real, Seriously!

A Lazy Saturday Afternoon in NYC

2009-06-01T15:11:00.010-04:00

One time… On a Tuesday morning, I woke up feeling achy, and hot. My night clothes were soaked from a fever. With the current pandemic of Swine Flu in NYC, I immediately went to see my doctor.

“Does your throat hurt?” he asked. “No” I replied, “but it does feel like its closing up, I figure from my allergies acting up”.

“Based on what your throat looks like, I’d say it SHOULD hurt. It looks pretty bad, I think its strep not Swine Flu” my doctor said. He prescribed me an antibiotic.

The next morning, Wednesday, My throat was on fire and I felt even worse. I stayed home from work. I returned to work on Thursday, but was still extremely tired.

By 10AM Saturday morning, I was starting to feel like my old self again. It was a beautiful sunny morning. I was too lazy to make breakfast, so I ran to the McDonald's one block away from my house, and ordered a meal and a vanilla iced coffee (I asked them to put only half the vanilla syrup in so it wasn’t too sweet—they usually put too much). My coffee was just right. I opened all the windows in my bedroom and the sun and breeze was streaming through. I turned on some Kristine W (Save my Soul) and stared out the window as I updated my Facebook page.

I was antsy to get out but knew that I should still take it easy. I called Herbert and Mykel and informed them that I wasn’t going to be at flagging class in Central Park today because I didn’t want to push myself doing anything too strenuous. Besides, the pollen in the park would probably kill me.

The day was absolutely stunning. I had CABIN FEVER! Alana called me and said “it’s so nice out let’s head to Fire Island!” I was so tempted.

My friend Frankie called. “You need to stay in the city and take it easy! and NO ALCOHOL!—it keeps your antibiotic from working” Frankie said. Frankie was right. I called Alana and told her that if I went to Fire Island it would be too hard for me to resist partying rather than get the rest I still needed.

At 1PM I couldn’t take it anymore (I’m not a TV watcher) so I decided to take a shower and head down to the city to catch the end of flagging class, and maybe entice a few people to have a late lunch or iced cappuccino with me at an outdoor café.

When I got to Manhattan, I headed straight to Starbucks to get me an iced cappuccino. Just then my phone rang. It was Lisandro. “That is why you are sick drinking all this cold shit. Remember me when I was sick 2 weeks ago with that bad cough, it was cause of all the cold drinks I kept drinking; don’t drink cold things while you are sick!”

UGH! As much as I wanted to believe this was a Latino (and Filipino) wives tale about drinking cold things when you are sick, something told me not to get anymore iced coffee. I called Quinta (who for the summer is living in a fabulous apartment right at Columbus Circle and Central Park South- Overlooking Central Park). “Zach and I are headed to the park to have a picnic, meet us at my building and we’ll walk over”.

I met them at their building and we walked across the street in time to catch the end of flagging class. I was able to convince Mykel, Herbert, and Marguerite to go for some food. We decided on Burger Joint in the Parker Meridian, not an outdoor café, but the most amazing burgers in NYC.

After eating, I was still antsy to be out. So I said “Let’s go to Times Square and Flag!” The city of New York recently decided to block off some of the streets in Times Square turning it into a pedestrian mall. They even put out lawn chairs. It looked so trailer park! White people in flip flops sitting in lawn chairs wearing 5.00 shades they just bought off the street corner (I just bought 2 pairs of 5.00 shades!).

Marguerite had to use the restroom and since there are no real public restrooms in Times Square, I suggested a place I use to go and hang out at whenever I needed a toilet or place to sit down when I first moved to NYC: The Marriott Marquis Hotel.

Now listen carefully folks. If you ever find yourself in Times Square (or NYC for that matter) and need a place to sit, use the toilet, or get out of the elements, head to the Marriott Marquis Hotel on 45th and Broadway (the Marriott probably doesn’t want me blabbing this). I learned this from another New Yorker when I first moved here. It’s a little tricky. Their lobby is on the 8th floor, NOT the first floor like a normal hotel. Just walk in as if you were a guest of the hotel. No one will stop you. Either take 7 escalators (like we did) up to the eighth floor, or take the speedy glass elevator up. Just so you know, there are restrooms on every floor going up to the eighth floor so if that’s all you need then by all means just go to the second floor; AND the restrooms are BEAUTIFUL and CLEAN. We used the restrooms on the second floor, but then decided to head to the Atrium Lounge on the eighth floor for some drinks (no alcohol for me!).

The Atrium lounge looks like something out of an Arnold Schwarzenegger film. You can see the balconies of the rooms above, with the great glass elevators zooming up and down overhead. You can occasionally even see a woman’s black or red panties under her dress as the elevator zooms up. Alana claims to have had sex against the glass in the elevators (can you say minute man!). There are also a ton of couches to sit on.

We quickly grabbed a table next to the giant stone waterfall encased in glass. Mykel and Marguerite ordered Stoli and tonics, Herbert ordered a beer, and I ordered a virgin (like me) coca cola—yes WITH ICE Lisandro! (cough cough)

After a couple of rounds, my second drink being and orange juice (without ice cause I started coughing again), we checked out the hotel's chocolate bar. I think for 16 dollars you can get your fill of scrumptious chocolate desserts.
The centerpiece of the chocolate bar is a human torso made of chocolate. We did not partake in eating any chocolate--not for 16.00 dollars anyway—you can get free samples at the Hershey store or eat M&M’s on the sly at the M&M store.

We headed downstairs to Times Square. It was still beautiful out. Times Square on any given day plays host to a ton of characters all hoping to make a quick buck from tourist looking for photo opportunities.
From Mickey Mouse, Donald and Daisy Duck (I think Disney’s copyright on these characters have expired which is why they can do this but I’m not totally sure), and Elmo.

Who wants a picture with Mickey in NYC? If I wanted to see Mickey I’d go to Disneyland!

I even caught Hello Kitty in the crosswalk (not a good place for a cat—a busy street).
There was also a guy selling Obama condoms saying they were the “ultimate stimulus package for HARD times”.

On one of the center Islands you will usually find Statue of Liberty characters—guys or girls painted green. To me they look creepy, but I guess to tourist, it could make for a cool picture with them in Times Square. Marguerite and I decided to add to their photo op by flagging right between two of them.

On one end of Times Square is the TKTS booth, famous for offering half price tickets for day-of-show Broadway performances. They recently renovated the booth turning it into large red bleachers that everyone likes to sit on. Herbert decided that it would make a great picture to stand in the middle of the bleachers and flag. It did look cool, a sea of people and one guy flagging!

As we finished snapping Herbert’s photos, a woman stood up and started shouting it’s my birthday. A guy nearby clad only in boxer shorts and a tank top asked her name. “Mary!” she replied (how generic).

“Everybody sing happy birthday Mary” shouted the boxer boy. Everyone (including us began singing) as boxer boy appeared to do what looked like an erotic dance for the woman. People are crazy.

We headed to the very center of Times Square, and on an island that barely fit 3 of us, with traffic zooming by, we took a photo of Herbert,
Marguerite, and I flagging. It’s a great picture!

From there we headed to the other end of Times Square where the police station is, and the giant Yahoo sign. We posed for a few more pictures before parting ways to head to our subway trains.

Despite not really doing anything, I had a great time. This is one of the reasons I love NYC so much. You can pick a random place and even if you did nothing there but just sat and people watched, you would have a great time. Lazy Saturday afternoons in NYC are great!

For Real, Seriously!

I'd Date Myself in a Tuxedo!

2009-05-19T16:26:00.010-04:00

One time… as a child, I remember watching some TV show and at the end of the show, the announcer said “Guest of the show stay at the world famous Waldorf=Astoria Hotel”. The Waldorf =Astoria (notice it’s a double hyphen = people use to say meet me at the hyphen) has become a famous landmark hotel known for luxury.
It’s even rumored that one of their chefs created the recipe for red velvet cake-- a very luxurious velvety cake.

I know that I have truly ARRIVED in New York City when I can say that I was invited (and attended) a black tie event at the World Famous Waldorf=Astoria Hotel.

My corporate philanthropist friend Jose received 10 tickets to the Hispanic Federation’s Annual Gala fundraiser, and was kind enough to invite me, Quinta, his date Matt, Thomas Krevor-- Executive Director of the Hetrick-Martin Institute (The Harvey Milk School), and several others.

“Established in 1990, the Hispanic Federation is a service-oriented membership organization that works with over 90 Latino health and human services agencies to promote the social, political and economic well-being of the Latino community”. This year’s gala event theme was Taking Causes to Heart.

This being a Black-tie affair , I had to rent a tuxedo. I thought that renting a tux from the Men’s Warehouse on 46th and Madison would be a wise choice since it was near Jose’s office (whereI I would be getting ready) and also because its prom season and they had ads in their windows advertising tuxedos for $59.

The Tuesday evening before the Thursday event I headed to the Men’s Warehouse. I love how literally a few days before an event you can just rent a tuxedo in NYC. First off, among the tuxedos in their catalog, not one was $59. Secondly, most of the tuxedo rentals started off at $170 dollars and up.

I settled on the two cheapest ones in the rental catalog for $109.00. I chose a lapel collar type only to be told that it really wasn’t in fashion and that if I was choosing based on price to take the other suit. When you think about it, I really had no choices! The suit I settled for was a regular tux with the satin stripe down the pant leg; and a black vest and regular tie (I don’t care for bow ties). They told me to pick the tux up between 12 PM & 5 PM the next day.

On Wednesday I went to pick up the tuxedo. After trying it on, I realized the pants were too short and the sleeves on my jacket too long (for tuxedos, its customary to show off the cuffs of your white shirt beneath the jacket). They told me to come back at 6 PM to retry it. I didn’t make it back. I hoped that it would fit the next day.

I went at noon on Thursday to pick my suit up. Everything was perfect. I rushed over to Jose’s office dropped off the tux and told him I would be back at 5:45 to get ready and that we get to the Waldorf=Astoria by 6:15 PM for the reception ( before dinner).

It was a rather hellish day at work, and I left the office at 5:05 PM (rare to leave that early on a hellish day). My plan was to head up to 51st and Lexington to the New York Sports Club (the gym I belong to—though not the branch I frequent) that is nearest to Jose’s office, to take a shower. Jose called me and said that he had gone home early to get ready and was driving back and he would be in the city by 5:45 PM. Quinta called me and said she had her dress with her and would like to get ready at Jose’s office at 5:45 as well.

The locker room of the NYSC at 51st and Lexington was full of hot fit Brazilian men! OMG it was like live Brazilian porn! (They weren’t having sex, just hot naked bodies everywhere). And of course, the one time I would just like to sit in a hot steam room looking at hot naked Brazilian men,
I only had 20 minutes to get in and out. I take a quick shower, shave, brush my teeth, wipe the drool from my mouth as I look at the guy next to me, change, and head 2 blocks over to Jose’s office. As I’m nearing Jose’s office, my phone starts ringing. “William, It’s Jose, I am stuck in traffic just go to my office and I will be there shortly”. I stop off at Starbucks and grab some iced green tea for Quinta and me.

I meet Quinta in the Lobby of Jose’s office. We sit down. I had broken a little sweat on the way (from the walk and from thinking of all those Brazilian boys I left behind). We sit outside at some tables catching up and cooling off. It was actually kind of a muggy day out. Not the best weather to wear a tuxedo in. Quinta was in jeans. She was going to change upstairs (like me) when Jose arrived.

5:50 PM Jose calls me again. “I’m still in traffic. Ask security if they will let you up to my office and let you change”. I put Jose on the phone with security and listen as the guard say “we do not open up any of our tenants office, it’s against our policy”. Quinta and I would have to wait.

6:10 PM (The time we were supposed to be at the reception!) Jose comes in all dressed. “Sorry I’m late, traffic was really bad and… I forgot my office keys!”. He turns to security and asks if they will open up the office for him. Security won’t do it. Uh oh! How am I going to get dressed!! Security and Jose start calling extensions to see if anyone is there! No Answers. Then a woman Jose knows comes out of the elevator. “Sure!” she says “I can key you in”. Whew! As we head toward the elevator, a cleaning person comes out and he offers to let us in instead, so the woman can go home. We ride up in the service elevator.

After we are done Changing, and I realize how hot I look in a tuxedo (I would date myself in a tux), and Quinta is dressed in her cocktail dress, Jose explains that we will not be able to get back into his office tonight. CRAP! I was planning on leaving my bag of stuff there and retrieving it after the grand ball. Now I had to grab my house keys and anything else I might need to get home that night and get everything in the morning. This means that I have to ride the subway late at night to the Bronx, in a fancy tuxedo.

6:40 PM. We finally make our entrance. The Waldorf=Astoria hotel was built in 1931 and is known for its Art-Deco design.
It’s lobby adorned with deep rich woods, with a clock tower in the center. Upstairs richly carpeted hallways with Chandeliers.

Even the elevators were made of stainless steel (or silver) ornately designed complete with the dial that looks like a clock above the door telling you what floor the elevator is on.
I commented that it was just like I use to watch on Sesame Street—Grover using that dial to count floors.

The upper floor Hallway leading to the reception and ballroom was cleanly tiled a black and white checker board pattern and much of the walls up lit by sconce lighting.
I couldn’t help but get that eerie feeling that this place was haunted, like the hotel in the Shining.

We were very late for the reception, and only had time to grab a glass of wine (Quinta and I were able to steal some sort of fried patty thing), and meet a few people before being ushered into the ballroom. The ballroom was beautiful, almost like being in Carnegie Hall or a Paris opera
house with a very ornate ceiling and large chandelier, complete with what looked like balconies of box seats.

Our tables were beautifully decorated with square vases of flowers submerged in water, with floating candles. The effect of the candles reflecting off all of the wine glasses on the tables was stunning. Also on the tables were our programs, and a listing of items up for silent auction including: a L’Oreal gift basket; Broadway show tickets; and trips.
On each chair, a large black purse—yes-- a purse! These were our gift bags! Thoughts of getting beat up on the subway in a tuxedo and holding a large purse filled my head.
Also on our table was the appetizer: Sugarcane Skewered Shrimp, with Buasacaca Salad (basically salsa).

The event was hosted by Julie Banderas, A Fox News correspondent.
New York’s governor Patterson was also there on hand to help present awards to Les Good Stein of Newscorp; Jose Zambrano L. of Zuma Holding; Kyle E. McSlarrow of the National Cable & Telecommunications Association; and also the Violence Intervention Program.
A lot of the presentation was done in Spanish with subtitles, and since I had left my glasses in Jose’s office I was as blind as Governor Patterson!

I wasn’t too impressed with dinner.
First off, it was served at 9 PM. The last meal I had eaten was at lunch. By the time dinner was served, I was so hungry I had eaten my shrimp appetizer,
and even chewed up the sugarcane skewer for all its sweetness (I remember chewing sugarcane as a kid in Hawaii). My spice Rubbed Tournedo of Beef was rather dry, but the Jumbo Lump Crab Cake was AMAZING!

As we ate dinner, we were entertained by Venezuelan Jazz Flutist Huascar Barradas.
The music was beautiful. Quinta could not help but to marvel at how skillful Huascar was with the flute. She explained to me that in order for him to make some of those sounds,
he had to be really skillful with his tongue! I think she was about to orgasm in her pants as she sat there watching him.

Halfway through the Dinner, Quinta and I snuck off to use the restroom as well as to take pictures posing next
to pieces of furniture as if they were priceless antique pieces in our own homes.

My favorite part of the evening was the dessert Bar.
Just outside of the main ballroom, a table with an amazing spread of rich treats including Flan, assorted mini cakes, and a cappuccino mousse.
Next to the dessert table, a full service coffee bar serving coffees, Café Con Leche, and Cappaccino. The Cappaccino was to die for!

As the evening faded into dancing, the group at our table decided to call it a night. On the way out, me and Jose decided to be ghetto and swing by the Coffee Bar and fill our “purses” with canned Bustello iced Café Con leche.
I think I took 5! Jose took 6!

We stopped in the Grand Lobby on our way out for some final photos with the clock.
Somone was grabbing my ass during the group photos!!

On my way home, I decided to wrap my purse in my leather jacket. Everyone on the train looked at me but no one said a word. They probably thought I was just some building security officer, or Hotel Concierge on his way home from work.

When I got home, I opened my purse.
Goya Products! Bustello Coffee! the usual pens and things, a CD of Huascar Barradas, a Mini bottle of Hennessy, and 5 canned Bustello Iced Café con Leche which I enjoyed every day since. Does anyone know where I can buy more?

For Real! Seriously!

Billy's Birthday Bash!

2009-05-06T12:57:00.020-04:00

One time… my birthday fell on a Friday, and I decided to make it a weekend birthday celebration! I took my birthday off from work so that I could spend the day pampering myself.

Friday morning (May 1st- My Bday) started off with millions of messages on Facebook wishing me Happy Birthday, and millions of phone calls. My favorite call of the morning was from my friend Harsha who is currently in India. Calling all the way from India made me feel Special.

My Favorite message on Facebook was from my friend Shinji who recognized that I had changed my profile picture to one of me blowing out the candle on a Mont Blanc Cake (Japanese Cake).

11 AM, first stop: DnB Hair Colour Group on 23rd Street. When I first moved to NYC back in 2004, I asked Kirk (my roommate) where I could go to get my hair cut. “DnB Hair Colour Group on 23rd and 7th” he said. “They are fierce and they know how to cut Asian Hair like yours". I have very straight wiry hair. I have had stylist complain that they have gotten splinters in their hands from my hair. When I got to 23rd and 7th, I couldn’t remember the name of the place. There were no salons on the corner of 23rd and 7th.

I looked up and saw a sign: International Salon. That must be it I thought to myself. The International Hair Salon must be what Kirk was talking about since only a place like that would know how to cut Asian hair. I rang the doorbell and they buzzed me up.

As soon as I got to the second floor and into the Salon, I realized that this was not the right place. 3 Black Drag Queens (one weaving a girl’s hair) greeted me. “You need a haircut honey?” one of them said.

There was no way I could respond with “just looking”, so I said yes and sat down. She/he did a good job, and Kirk later explained that DnB Hair Colour Group was not on the corner but just off the corner of 7th Avenue. About a month later I went back to DnB where Vivian, this fierce Asian girl, cut my hair exactly as it should be. I have been going to her ever since.

On my birthday, I figured I’d drop in and make an appointment for the next day. As soon as I walked in Vivian said “I can take you now”.

The shampoo girl washed my hair gave me a quick head/shoulder/neck massage and Vivian went to work giving me a really short summer haircut. I loved it!

Then it was off to the Chelsea Pier Day Spa where I met Herbelicious.
I was there to get a one hour facial using a gift card that I had. The Spa is part of a huge sports complex/gym and a purchase at the Day Spa entitles you to use the facilities for the rest of the day. The Spa provided Herbelicious and me luxurious terry cloth robes.
We enjoyed a few minutes in the steam room and sauna, and a nice shower before Yuli, my therapist, saw me. Upon meeting me she asked “Are you Filipino?”

“Yes!” I replied.

“Good, I am Indonesian, so I know your skin type”. She examined my skin and determined that I SHOULD have normal to oily skin but had normal to dry skin because the products I use were clogging up my pores. She informed me she would do a Glycolic Acid Peel to provide exfoliation and cell renewal. She told me that this would unclog my pores. She massaged my face with cleansers and steam, covered my eyes with moist cool towelettes, and covered my face with hot and cold towels.
I was in heaven practically falling asleep to the calm classical music being piped into my semi dark room. She followed up with the peel, a facial, and a shoulder and neck massage. She then started to perform extractions of my white and blackheads. She followed that with another cleansing and a mask. I’m not sure what the mask was, I had my eyes closed the whole time. It felt like she covered my face with cheesecloth, and then started to use what smelled and felt like paper mache paste. She finished up with moisturizer and sun protection. It was an enjoyable experience.

When the hour was over, she advised me to change the facial soap I was using as it was too harsh and to start using Cetaphil.
She also told me that in the fall I might want to opt for microdermabrasion to help with the scarring from my teenage years.

After getting dressed, Herbelicious and I decided to head to the Chelsea Market for lunch. On our way there, we stumbled upon an open warehouse where there appeared to be an art exhibit.

We weren’t sure if we were allowed to walk in, or if there was another entrance to this “museum”, or maybe this was actually the exit.

Herbelicious and I slipped in. We looked at the interesting exhibits of chickens nailed to the walls, cardboard furniture, famous Filipino boxer Manny Pacquiao (I’m Filipino!), Neon signs etc. It was kind of fun, (and free?), and I felt like Ferris Bueller away from school for the day. Off to Chelsea Market.

I first heard of the Chelsea Market from watching the Food Network years before I moved to New York City.
I especially wanted to go to this place there that served several types of pot pies.
Herbelicious and I couldn’t find the place, but we settled on a cute café called the Green Table.
I ordered the Pot pie (which was amazing), and Herberlicious ordered their signature burger that had bacon and kimchee in it! In the middle of lunch I received a phone call from my friend Patrick in Chicago.

“William, its Patrick. Some people want to say something to you”.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” I heard a group of kids singing. It was Patrick’s class. Patrick is an elementary school teacher. That was so Sweet!

A quick run home to the Bronx to change and it was back to the city to meet my friend Tommy to watch a live taping of The Big Gay Sketch Show (that airs on LOGO).
The show is like Saturday Night Live --but with sketches pertaining to gay people. My good friend Joe (Tommy's Boyfriend who couldn't make it) knows that I like the show, and was able to secure me tickets to see the live taping. We sat in the front row!

My favorite character on the show is that of a little British boy named Fitzwilliam, who wants nothing more than to be a little girl and have a vagina. He has a horse that he calls a unicorn “whose mother (the horse that is) abandoned him when he was 4 because she is an alcoholic”.

I was hoping to see a new sketch of Fitzwilliam. And guess what? I got my Birthday Wish! This time the horse err... Unicorn was slitting his arms and legs because he will never be as thin as the models in all the high fashion magazines. I’m not sure if I’m allowed to say this before the show airs, but Fitzwilliam will also finally be getting his wish—a Beverly Hills vagina! We couldn’t take pictures during the taping, and in all the pictures I did take, I realized my face was so oily and shiny (because of the facial?).

Another quick bite after the show at this great place called B-Bop on 54th and 9th and then it was home for a quick shower (to wash my greasy face) and off to No Parking for Strippers and a performance by the gypsy woman herself Crystal Waters-- ladadi ladida!

All day Saturday I did absolutely nothing! But I knew that my birthday celebration was going to continue as Herbelicious had plans for me.

It started off with an 8:30 PM dinner at Ippudo (the great ramen noodle shop I blogged previously about).

Many of my good friends were there: Ivan, Alana, Herberlicious, Michelle, and Johnny.
Ivan entertained us with his high fashion modeling poses, as Alana tried to compete but could only do sexy poses—borderline porn!

Alana surprised me with a birthday cake from the Philippines! a Pianomo Roll!

And then it was off to the bar URGE for more strippers and where to my surprise most of my friends were! It was a night of drinking and catching up with all of them. I was trashed with all the free birthday drinks!

We ended the night at Splash dancing, where Herbelicious, Michelle, and Ivan retrieved my valuables from me (after the last black-out incident at Splash they wanted me to be safe) and headed home. I stayed back since I had the attention of 3 suitors.
Let’s just say that I went home with 2 of them, where we made manwiches and enjoyed brunch the next morning watching the Harry Potter Movie. What a great Birthday Weekend, the BEST EVER! Thanks Everybody! (especially Herbelicious, Alana, Michelle, Brian & Eduardo).

For Real, Seriously.

Do I need an Intervention?

2009-04-21T14:33:00.005-04:00

One time…I fell asleep on subway on my way home from a bar in NYC… and I woke up on the complete OPPOSITE END OF THE TRAIN LINE that I live from! In my defense, something was extremely wrong and I suspect it’s one of two things: either someone slipped something into my drink at the bar, OR the combination of Claritin and alcohol really kicked my ass.

Let me explain why I think it’s one of these 2 scenarios.

One time in Atlanta… I was really thirsty from dancing all night. I saw my friend Disco Princess drinking a coke. I came off the dance floor and asked for a sip. Disco Princess told me he just wanted one more sip and that I could have the rest. He took one last sip and I downed the rest of it. “Did you just down that whole drink?” he shouted.

“Yes, why?” I asked.

“Because! You Idiot, there was G in it!” (GHB-Gamma Hydroxy Butyrate- the Date Rape Drug).
“I thought you knew that I was sipping it to get a buzz off it!!” Disco Princess shouted at me.

The room started to really spin and I didn’t know how to stop it. I could barely keep my eyes open. Disco Princess was busy making out with some boy in the corner and refused to help me get home (which was across the Street!). Another boy said he knew where I lived. He put me in his car, and drove me across the street. He sat with me in his car for 30 minutes.

“I want to watch you a minute to make sure you’re okay before I let you go”. When he thought I was okay, he helped me into my apartment told me to eat something and sleep it off. All I had in my apartment were some oatmeal cookies. I ate them, and immediately wanted to throw up. I went straight to my roommate’s bathroom (my bathroom was too chic to mess up). I threw up the cookies. I realized that I was freezing cold and turned on our gas fireplace, and lay down on the floor in front of it. I fell asleep. A couple of hours later, my roommate found me in a puddle of my own sweat. He was cursing.

“If I ever catch you doing G again I’ll kill you myself” my roommate shouted. He was a paramedic. “ Do you realize what happened here? Your blood pressure dropped so much—to a dangerous level and that’s why you sweated so much. You could have died!” I woke up sick that morning, and really horny. I vowed to stay away from G from that day on.

Scenario Number 2: One time… my Friend Tyler came to visit me in NYC. My allergies were acting up and so I took some Claritin.
We went out to a club called The Park. I think I had 3 Gin and Tonics (not a whole lot for me). The last thing I remember was spilling my friend Tony’s drink, and buying him a new one. The next morning I woke up in my bed completely rested with no recollection of what happened or how we got home.

I asked Tyler what happened. “Well…” he said, “at around 3AM you came up to me, you seemed fine, but you looked tired, and said we had to go. You got our coats out from the coat check and then we went outside. You said we needed to hang outside for a while-I’m not sure why, but we did. Then you started walking and I followed you. We walked maybe 10 or 12 blocks to a diner. You ordered food and I ordered food, but you passed out. So I ate. Then you woke up, had your food boxed, went to the bathroom, paid for the food and said let’s go home. We got on a train, but I wasn’t sure if it was the right one. You passed out again. Then at some stop, you woke up and said we needed to switch trains and we did and got on the D train and came home. “

I had no recollection of any of it. It was like I was on autopilot. I got on the internet and saw my friend Tony on. I apologized for my behavior the night before. “What are you talking about honey he said... last night you were fierce! The life of the party!”

“I wasn’t trashed?” I asked.

“If you were I didn’t notice” said Tony. Scary.

April 19, 2009: I find myself waking up on the D Train at 8AM-- on the complete opposite end of the train line from where I live.
I had taken Claritin the morning before since it is allergy season. Actually I have been taking it for over a month now. I have also been drinking on weekends with no black-outs or auto-pilots. I remember meeting Alana (my high school prom date) for drinks at Chevy’s the night before.

We had a couple of drinks before we went to Splash. At Splash we had a couple more drinks and danced, but I just wasn’t feeling any kind of buzz. Alana said she was tired and wanted to go home. Me thinking with the other head between my legs put Alana in a cab and went back in.

I had 60 bucks and some free drink coupons to use. I went downstairs to where Alana and I were dancing and ordered another drink. I remember I met a guy named Kevin who I had friended on facebook but that I had never met in person until now. I also remember talking with a hot couple who told me they had been together for like 14 years. I was making out with the two of them and starting to feel a buzz. I remember meeting a hot Argentinean guy who told me he was straight and showed me pictures of his girlfriend, but kept grinding against my ass and making out with me. And then it gets fuzzy.

I knew I would probably get laid from either going home with the older couple, or the guy from Argentina. Argentina guy asked me what I was drinking and I went with him to the bar. I ordered a Gin and tonic and when I tried to pay, the bartender said “your money is no good here as long as you’re with him” (he pointed at the Argentinean guy). I had to pee. I excused myself and went to the bathroom. As far as I know I peed, but I might have thrown up.... I don’t recall.

I didn’t think I was gone that long, but when I got out of the bathroom, the whole downstairs of Splash was cleared out and the lights were on.
I tried to find any of the guys, but couldn’t. I went upstairs, it was too crazy and the room was really starting to spin. I decided to leave.

I don’t remember getting my coat, but vaguely remember stumbling to the train station. For some reason I’m sure that I went to the 34th Street Stop. I don’t remember. I remember the 59th street stop so I know I was going in the right direction. At Kingsbridge, I remember feeling so sick that I said to myself “one more stop and I can throw up and go to bed” (there was track work so the train wasn’t going fully to the end of the line where I live).

Suddenly I woke up. It was 8 AM. Sun was streaming through the train car windows and there were trains on either side of my train. There were 3 other people asleep on the car. Sunlight! My train never goes above ground! Where Am I? Am I dead? It’s so quiet and peaceful here. The sun is so beautiful.
I realized I was in the train yard! I looked out the window and saw the sign “Stillwell Avenue”. I ran to the train map. Stillwell was on the complete opposite end of the train line from where I lived! I realized that I had passed out on the train and because they were doing track work at my stop the conductor didn’t go around waking people up as he usually did. The train just unloaded, reloaded and reversed back on its path toward Brooklyn. I was 2 hours away from home!!

I called Herbelicious. I started to tell him what happened but then my phone went dead!

The whole time on the 2 hour train ride back to the opposite end, I kept thinking that it was so cold on that train, and that I reeked of alcohol. When I got home, I made another discovery. All my cash was gone, my iPod was gone, and my T-Shirt was gone!! WTF! Did this happen in the club or on the train? No wonder it was so cold—I was half naked! I have a vague flashback of the couple lifting up my shirt.

I took a shower, ate something, and fell asleep on the couch. I woke up to a soaked pillow. I felt sick and I was extremely horny. G? Or Claritin? I was really thirsty.

Monday Morning, I ended up staying home from work because now I had the runs.

At least I am safe, and nothing seriously bad happened. It could have been worse.

For Real! Seriously!

Amen for Ramen!

2009-04-09T16:09:00.017-04:00

Featured Reader: LISA outNabout at Wailua Falls on the Hana side of Maui Hawaii!

One time…. In NYC, I found myself addicted to Ramen noodles. ADDICTED. I craved it. Ever since eating at Sategaya (see my earlier blog on Sategaya), I have been on a Ramen Binge. I’ve been eating Ramen outNabout as well as at home almost constantly. I discovered that the East Village of NYC seems to be the war zone for the battle of the Ramen restaurants. On almost every block you can find a Ramen shop. So how do I know which one to choose? I ask my soul mate who took me to Sategaya in the first place (he is somewhat of an expert). This time, he recommended Ippudo, another Ramen house that is famous amongst Japanese locals, as well as in Japan.

Most of you still think of Ramen as the freeze dried sponge of noodles that you make at home. But really good Ramen starts off with the soup.
There are several types of soup bases, but really good ramen doesn’t take 3 minutes to make in your microwave, but rather days of boiling meats and vegetables to make luscious and sometimes creamy and flavorful soup bases. Ippudo is known for their amazing soups. Then there are the noodles. Ippudo makes their noodles fresh in their basement. You can even watch the noodles being made on a machine through a glass window while you wait your turn to use the restrooms.

This Ramen adventure to Ippudo began with a phone call to Robert who works at the Little Hair shop in the East Village, just blocks from Ippodu. I knew that Robert, being both Japanese and from Hawaii, would appreciate a good bowl of SAIMIN (what we call Ramen in Hawaii). “I get off of work at 6:30” said Robert. “Meet me at the salon, and I think maybe some of my co-workers will join us if you don’t mind”.

“Sure!” I say. Herbelicious and I love Robert’s co-workers-- a Hodge-podge of hair artists who are just great people with great energy to be around. We get to the salon just as it is closing and the last customers leaving. After a quick clean up, Petra the owner counsels and supports her staff on the rough diamonds they encountered that day. I think Petra is an amazing boss. She then gets one of her staff to pour us all a shot of Don Julio! And then it was off to Ippudo.

On our way to Ippudo who did we run right into but Ms. Top Model herself TYRA BANKS! She was being assisted by to people and appeared to be limping. She was even more beautiful in person. Herbelicous called out his favorite stalker line that he says to all the celebs he meets on the streets of NYC: “OMG I LOVE YOUR SHOW!”

“Thanks” she replied with a smile as she limped away.

Ippudo is located at 65 Fourth Ave at 10th street (just across the street from the Astor Place Train stop. Upon walking in, you will immediately notice the trendy atmosphere. Almost like a nightclub.
Who knew that you could build such a trendy place based on noodles and soup? Our table wasn’t quite ready so we all sauntered up to the bar where FREEZE DRIED RAMEN NOODLES with glass over the top as the bar itself.
Behind the bar the wall was lined with bowls! We all ordered a Japanese beer and settled in the corner and talked about our day, and how Petra should have us over sometime and make us some kicking Caribbean food (hint hint). Petra is Asian, but was born and raised in Trinidad.

When our table was ready, the host led us into a large dining room where immediately the whole staff stopped what they were doing and all yelled Irrashaimase! (Welcome in Japanese). In the center of the room was another trendy piece of art, what appeared to be a giant tree or umbrella made of bamboo.

Our host led us to our table complete with tatami mat seats, ropes, and Japanese writing engraved into the wall behind us. Though I could read (pronounce) the characters on the wall, I did not know what they meant. To the right of our table was the glass enclosed kitchen where you could watch the noodle chefs make our meals.
We decided to share an appetizer platter complete with Octopus salad, fried fish cakes, and the most luscious piece of pork with fat that just melted in your mouth. The pork was like eating Kalua Pig (pig cooked in the underground oven) from Hawaii. We also ordered edamame.

Upon looking at the menu, we realized that unlike Setagaya which only has Shoyu (so sauce) based ramen soups, Ippudo had several different kinds:
Tonkotsu which is a meat based soup, Miso Ramen which has a Miso based soup, and the regular shoyu based ramen.

Petra and Victor (her Husband), Dane, and Me ordered the Akamaru Ramen: “The original tonkotsu soup noodles with Ippudo’s special sauce, miso paste, and fragrant garlic oil; slices of simmered Berkshire pork, cabbage, onions, kikurage & scallions".

Herbert ordered the Miso Ramen: “Soy bean paste ramen noodles soup, tonkotsu based soup with slice of Berkshire pork, minced pork, cabbage & scallions”.

Robert ordered the Shiromaru Hakata Classic: "The original tonkotsu soup noodles with slices of simmered Berkshire pork, kikurage, red pickled giner, menma, hard boiled egg, sesame & scallions".

And Dustin ordered the Spicy Tonkotsu Ramen because he likes it spicy: “The original tonkotsu soup noodles with hot sauce, ground pork, cabbage, onions & scallions. Your choice of spiciness, mild, spicy or extra spicy". Dustin ordered it Extra Spicy.

When the food came it was sheer bliss. Nothing could be heard except the moans, grunts, and slurps of the ramen being eaten.
In Japan, it is actually proper to slurp ramen so that you get the noodles and the soup at the same time and experience the sophistication of the flavors on your palate.

Personally, I liked the noodles at Setagaya better, but there was no arguing that the broth here at Ippudo was nothing short of amazing.
We ate everything in our bowls and drank all of the soup.

After dinner, we all shared some Green Tea Creme Brule which was just the perfect amount of sweet along with hot tea or Ocha. In Japan, it is known that all the good restaurants serve you ocha for free.

One quick stop to the bathroom where the giant face watched you pee, and it was goodbye to everyone. It was a wonderful night of good food, with good friends, and good conversation. I got my Ramen fix for the night! I only wished that my soul mate, who recommended this place to me, was there to go home with. I miss him a lot, some days worse than others, but I know that he is doing great things on the other side of the world. I’m doing great things on this side of the world.

For Real! Seriously!

One of my Passions: Flagging.

2009-03-26T10:26:00.017-04:00

Featured Readers: Tim and Emilio- New York Residents outNabout in Vermont

One time…. I saw a really hot shirtless circuit boy on the dance floor of the now infamous but defunct 24-hour Gay club Backstreet Atlanta. He was flagging. I was mesmorized. What is flagging? It’s form of spellbinding dance using pure silk. There are no rods or poles, just tiny weights. The motion of the cloth is that of the infinity symbol: a figure eight winding and unwinding itself…forever! It‘s a very spiritual and uplifting activity for me and I have made it one of my passions. The day my soul mate left to the Middle East, I cried. And then I picked up a set of flags and I spent the afternoon flagging. It helped me work through the emotions of my loss. I think about him every day.

I have flagged everywhere. I have flagged in clubs, parks, private parties, and company parties. I have flagged on the Savannah’s of Africa, the beaches of Hawaii, and Victoria Falls. Not only does it lift my soul, but it lifts everyone who watches. It is such a beautiful experience that I love sharing it. Until recently it was only seen in gay clubs or at circuit parties. I want to change that. Something so positive and uplifting should be shared with the mainstream. Myself, Mykel, Lefty, and Tigger, all artists, all friends, decided to take over the leadership of New York City Flaggers: The Community of Artists. Together, we want to spread a positive message.

How did this all start for me? Let me explain….

When I was in second grade, my neighbor Evelyn came home with a set of poi balls. She said it was for the May Day festival. May Day is celebrated on May 1st (my Birthday!) and in elementary school each class would learn and perform a Hula dance for our parents in a school wide show. Poi Balls are used for a hula dance from New Zealand. It consists of 2 balls on strings that are twirled around and used to do tricks. According to the Maori People of New Zealand (the warrior people of Polynesia), it teaches hand eye coordination. Evelyn said they learned to make them in her 4th grade class and were learning the hula and tricks for May Day. Over the course of the next few days, she taught me and Charmaine (our other neighbor) how to make our own set and she taught us the tricks. We became quite good at it.

Fast Forward. I am a club kid on the Dance floor of Backstreet watching this flagger. I can’t help but notice that he is controlling the flags much like a set of poi balls. I approached him. I asked him about the flags. He hands them to me and says “go for it”. I realized that they are weighted and if I twirled them like I twirled the poi balls, that I could do what he was doing… well not quite, but pretty close. “Have you flagged before?” he asked.

“No” I replied, “but I have spun poi”.

“Oh yeah? You spin fire? It’s almost the same as flagging” he said.

I had no idea what he was talking about-- spinning fire. I asked him where he got those flags and he said that he made them. “Its part of the initiation into the tribe, you have to make your own flags at some point” he said. He gave me a website. I ran home and checked it out. The tribe was community of artists, performers, flag spinners, poi spinners, and fire twirlers (poi balls set on fire!). They had directions on how to make flags. I had a sewing machine so I immediately went to the fabric store and bought all I needed. About 4 hours later, I had two sets of flags—A bright orange sparkly la-me set for me, and a bright sparkly purple la-me set for my friend Sam. I was never great at flagging, just good.

A brief history lesson. Flagging or Fanning may have started in the gay disco scene in the late 70’s and early 80’s when clubbers danced with large fans which eventually gave way to a form of fans that had no spines, but rather a flexible weight. In the late 90’s, with the introduction of the rave and circuit scene flaggers once again found their place in the nightclub dance culture—Where I found it. If you ask me how it started, I would say that it came out of drill teams and color guards and evolved. That in the past gay boys wanted to twirl the flags for the marching band but only the girls were allowed to. I think they are allowed to today. I really don’t know.

2004. I am now living in NYC and find a class called FLOW. It is a flagging class. On my first day, George the teacher introduces me to a bunch of great friends “the tribe” and tells me to reverse the direction that I’m spinning the flags. All of a sudden I can easily do all the tricks!

Life in NYC consumes me. I’m struggling to survive. Little did I know that maybe flagging was the grounding that I needed to balance me. At the same time, the tribe slowly dwindles.

2009. Mykel a talented singer/dancer/artists/flagger calls me. He asks me and Lefty to meet him in a restaurant. “I want to bring back this wonderful community that we had. I think that under our leadership along with Tigger, we can do it.” We talk. I realized that this is what’s been missing: the friends- the tribe, dancing, expressing myself, creating, and the sharing—lifting myself up as well as the others around me. We re-created together NEW YORK CITY FLAGGERS!

We hold a bi-weekly very fun, social, non-threatening work-out of a dance class in Chelsea. If you have ever had the desire to learn to dance but thought you just weren’t really a dancer then NYC Flaggers is for you. If you ever had the desire to perform in a show or parade but never thought you would be given the opportunity, then NYC Flaggers is for you. If you’ve ever had the desire to be an artists and paint, or choreograph, then NYC Flaggers is for you. If you feel out of shape but want to have fun working out then NYC Flaggers is for you. If you want to meet a cool group of people who have no judgments about anyone then NYC Flaggers is definitely for you! Check out our website for more pictures, videos, and our schedule of classes at:

http://www.myspace.com/nycflaggers or check us out on FaceBook under New York City Flaggers!

Mykel who is our artistic director is also a talented singer/songwriter who is also about to release a new dance single. NYC Flaggers will be there to back him when the single hits the charts! We will be there performing for his live performances. Believe me, the new song is HOT! We have been waiting for a hit song with such a great message for a long time. Congrats Mykel!

http://www.mykel.info/

We have also booked several of the parades in NYC-- the Dance Parade, Gay Pride Parades, and even the Puerto Rican Day parade. We are in talks now with some community groups to help use flags as a positive way to spin their positive messages to the community.

If you have nothing to do on a Thursday or Saturday, come out and flow with NYC Flaggers! You’ll help change the world!

And guess what? Life in NYC doesn't consume me anymore. I consume it. My feet are now firmly planted and only my hands are in the air... Holding a set of flags!

For Real! Seriously!

Little Life Lessons

2009-03-11T20:22:00.006-04:00

One time…. I met a boy and fell madly in love with him. But the universe said to me that the time just wasn’t right for us. The universe is pulling us apart even though we don’t want to be. I have been in a mopey kind of mood ever since. I am lovesick. All of those plays and sonnets of Shakespeare that I read in high school completely make sense to me now. I am physically drained, mentally drained, and emotionally drained. I cannot eat or sleep. Every song on the radio now holds new meaning for me.

I am still going to work every day, still going to the gym, and still going to dance class. I do this to try to maintain a sense of normalcy in my life. My body feels worked out! Maybe I will have abs by the end of this ordeal. Herbelicious keeps bitching at me that if I do get abs (from being love sick and not eating) that he will never speak to me again! NAILS!

As much as I will miss this amazing boy after he leaves on Saturday, I have learned so much from him and this experience: little life lessons. For that I am eternally grateful to have met him. I know that I am extremely lucky. I Always have been lucky, and feel that I always will be lucky.

I know that this blog is supposed to be about me being outNabout in New York. I just haven’t really been in an outNabout type of mood lately. Instead, I want to share some of the life lessons that I have learned from this amazing person. I think we can all use them to make ourselves better people. Some of them make me laugh and some of them make me cry. Take them as you wish. Use them.

1. Make everyone you meet feel as if they are the only one in the world that matters. Make it seem like the whole world has gone away when they are with you. Even when you are with a group of people. Make everyone in the group feel this way.

2. When asked to do something, always say “why not?”. When you say why not, you are not saying no, but rather opening up yourself to try new experiences.

3. Always speak the truth.

4. Do not be afraid to explore—ALONE. Don’t limit yourself from experiencing things and visiting places simply because you have no one to go there with. Besides, you just might make a new friend-- maybe even meet the nicest person you have met in the last 20 years of your life!

5. Make sure to always save your quarters (so that you can do your laundry).

6. Be like “Moving Rubber”—Strong enough to hold things, but flexible enough to be open minded to new things.

7. If you are not going to cook, or can’t cook, then make sure you really enjoy eating out! Eat good food. Take pictures!

8. Know your priorities and obligations. Make appointments. Make sure you keep them. Even if it seems like your obligations might hurt someone, just tell them. They will understand, and respect you more in the end.

9. Always share your million-dollar smile! It will get people to smile their million dollar smiles back.

10. Listen to the music of Jason Mraz. His music is deep but very uplifting. Even his sad songs sound happy.

11. Don’t scare your friends while they are in the shower. Think about it, they are naked--they feel most vulnerable.

12. If you wake up late and find that you are still on time for work, know that you can now sleep in every day and still be on time!

13. Don’t be afraid to drink wine out of a plastic kiddie cup.

14. Drink Matcha Green tea. It will give you energy!

15. Don't be afraid to tell someone that you have been thinking about them. It will make their day.

16. Hickey's on your neck are not necessarily trashy... they show the rest of the world that someone loves you.

17. Don’t be afraid to fall in love, let yourself go, and emotionally connect with someone, even if you know it will only be for a short time. The highest vibration in the universe is love; don’t deny it. Just enjoy yourself even if it’s only for a moment.

18. Laugh A lot. At everything!

Goodbye doesn't mean anything. It's the time that we spent together that matters most, NOT how we left it.

I'm going to miss you. And when you feel alone, just remember that someone in the world loves you--ME!

For Real! Seriously!

Just for this Moment

2009-02-26T13:59:00.010-05:00

One time …. I got this email that said that people come into your life only for a season. At the time, I didn’t give it much weight. I always felt that I WAS that person going into everyone else’s life just for a season. I was always the one to leave. I left my family and friends in Hawaii. I left my friends in Cleveland, and then I did it again and left my friends in Atlanta ultimately landing in New York.

I always said that every single person should spend at least 1 year of their life living in New York City. It is the most exciting place in the world, and at the same time the loneliest place on earth. It’s so hard to meet people here for any type of lasting relationships. Living in New York is also the greatest learning experience you will ever have in your life. I have been here for 5 years now, and am still living and learning.

A few weeks ago, someone came into my life and made such an impression on me that I have been changed forever. His exciting career is now taking him away from the U.S. to another country. He is the person who has come into MY life only for a season. That email I had received now holds more weight than ever, and because he is leaving in 2 weeks, I am trying to make the most of my time with him—making every moment count.

A lot of my friends said to me: Why would you waste your time on someone you knew was leaving? My answer to them is that connections like these are extremely rare, and though I will probably feel like I am dead inside when he leaves, I will have learned so much from the experience. He came into my life for a season to teach me about all the things I had forgotten about; Things like love, compassion, acceptance, laughter, romance, not compromising who I am, even culture identity and self acceptance. Until I met him (I think my friend Katrina put it best while describing her own situation) everyone else was just a stand in. Maybe it’s just me who feels this way and not him. But because the connection is so amazing, I want to believe the feeling is mutual.

I won’t print his name, or his picture, or what he does for work because he asked me to protect his identity, and I am asking those of you who know or have met him, to refrain from giving away his identity when you comment, or in any way else.

I spent an afternoon outNabout with him having lunch in the east village. We wanted Japanese food and we had heard there were some amazing noodle shops in the East Village. When I was in college, I worked at a Japanese noodle shop in Waikiki as a waiter serving Japanese tourist. It was a good deal. I also studied Japanese language (reading writing and speaking—yes the characters even) for 5 years (I’m losing it now though) but the noodle shop was a great place to practice as well as to learn how to cook amazing Japanese dishes that I still use to wow my friends today.

There are a lot of these noodle shops on St. Mark’s place in the east village. We browsed several of them trying to decide. I laughed when I saw one of the shops (that was not open for the day yet) with a handwritten sign saying that the Japanese Mafia was not allowed in there. Kind of ballsy to write such a thing. Isn’t that inviting them to just target you?

We settled for Ramen at Setagaya. Ramen in Japan and the rest of Asia is a meal, not a freeze dried sponge of noodles with a salty soup packet that you microwave and eat in your college dorm room or when you are sick. Real ramen uses fresh noodles, fresh meats and vegetables and homemade broths.

Apparently Setagaya is also a well-known Ramenya (Ramen Shop) amongst Japanese tourist and Japanese locals. The place was packed, everyone speaking Japanese. It’s a tiny little shop with a large table in the middle holding about 10 people, and then a counter that runs the perimeter of the room with maybe another 20 seats. Very Japanese. They also had a TV that showed Japanese Game shows on it. The particular show we were watching coincidentally was of teams battling to see who could make the best Ramen using secret ingredients (sort of like Iron Chef Meets Top chef). Setagaya is a tiny place, but they have wait service.

We both ordered the same exact meal Gyolou Ramen- noodles with Pork shoulder and veggies in it YUM! The bowls of noodles were HUGE. I could only eat about half of it.

We also shared a seaweed salad (I actually don’t know what’s in seaweed salad-- I think it’s all fake seaweed) but it taste really good; and we shared an order of Gyoza (Pot Stickers) which were okay. Mea, Janet, and Mijin (the owners of the noodle shop I worked for in Hawaii), if you are reading this, You STILL have the best gyoza I have ever tasted.

My dining partner laughed every time the waitress brought out a dish because I was photographing them for this blog. Funny as he thought it was he started taking his own set of pictures! We were laughing so much I spilled my glass of water which traveled all along the counter and onto some Chinese girl’s jacket... sorry!! He kept laughing at me as I tried to clean up the mess with napkins. He said to me “The waitress saw the mess, and doesn't care about it, why should you?” and we laughed some more.

At 3 PM, the waitress put up the “CLOSED” sign in the window. How odd! The place was packed, why would you close? I guess to give the staff a break and to do some cleaning before the dinner rush.

I highly recommend noodles from Setagaya. I’m taking Herbelicious, Robert, and Ivan there soon, though I’m going to miss being there with my special friend.

We spent the rest of the afternoon roaming the city laughing and enjoying each other’s company. I am going to miss him very much when he leaves. He has changed my life and I hope that I have somehow changed his. I feel a very strong connection to him like I have known him all my life. I have not felt this way about anyone else since my first boyfriend-- and I chalked all those feelings up to first love. Maybe its love, maybe it isn’t. I don't know. Will I ever see him again after he leaves? I don’t know. I hope so.

To Him: If you are reading this, know that you hold a very special place in my heart. I miss you already.
________

I am trying to figure out what it is that makes this connection so special. A wise woman recently told me that if I can figure that out, even when he is gone (physically), we will always be connected--the connection will always be there.

If I can truly figure out the conncetion that we share, I can use that knowledge to connect with every single person I meet every day for the rest of my life. Maybe not as intense of a connection, but none the less, a speical connection. Can you imagine what a fabulous life you would have if you made sure that every encounter you had with someone left such a deep impression? I want to live that kind of life…..

For Real, Seriously.

Scammed on the Streets of NYC!

2009-02-18T16:36:00.012-05:00

Featured Reader: Don outNabout by the pool in Odenton, MD

Scammed on Street

One time.....I was on an errand for my boss headed up to 50th and 3rd Avenue. Around 47th Street, a car pulled up. I can’t really tell you the make of the car other than it was a silver SUV. The guy was desperately trying to flag someone down-- Anyone. I felt sorry for the guy. He barely spoke English (or so I thought).

He called me over to the car. He asked me how to get to JFK airport. He apologized that his English was so bad. He kept apologizing. He kept trying to ask me things in Italian. He asked me if I was Italian because of my complexion. I said no that I was Asian/Hawaiian. He asked me if I lived in NYC. I told him yes. I told him that I didn’t know how to get to JFK from where we were because I didn’t drive in NYC-- that I took the train everywhere. He said it was okay. This whole conversation was done in broken English and Italian.

He started to pull away, then stopped and called me back over to the car. He said to me he was “looking for a man”. I immediately thought is this a pick up? Was he looking to get laid before he went home to Italy? What a pervert! He wasn’t all that attractive, though his accent was a little sexy. He explained to me that he was here for fashion week (it is fashion week here in NYC), for the Reportage Georgio Armani show. He said that he had several leather jackets with him for the show, but that he was returning home to Italy and that there would be a hefty tax for returning back with all those jackets. He said he was already taking 6 back for his family but had 3 extra that he was willing to sell.

Alarms went off in my head SCAM! SCAM! SCAM! I told him to give me his business card and I would call him later. He said he was leaving for airport now, that there would be no later. He pulled out a business card that had the name Salvatore or something on it with what looked like the Armani symbol.
It looked legit. He gave me the card and then he got out and opened the door to the back seat. He pulled out a brown leather jacket. It looked nice. He opened it up, showed me the lining showed me it said made in Italy.

He showed me the Armani Buttons. I’m not a fashionista like Herbelicious so I wouldn’t know the difference. It looked real to me. I dialed Herbelicious to see what he would say. He didn’t answer. PRESSURE!!

Salvatore started pulling out 2 other leather jackets still in plastic and on hangers both black leather. They were nice. He opened them up showed me the linings saying made in Italy. Told me that one went for $1200 the other for $900 and the brown one for $1100. He said “I am a good man; I just don’t want to pay tax. I don’t need this jacket. I make you deal, you pay me for one and I give you all 3”.

“How much?” I asked.

Give me $800 price of one jacket and I give you grand deal”. I walked away. SCAM! SCAM! SCAM! was going off in my head. He pulled me back. “You don’t want good deal? Help me out?”

“I don’t have $800 dollars” I said, “sorry”.

“I tell you what…. what you have now I give you deal. I don’t need jacket; I cannot afford tax in Italy”. I looked at the jackets again. “Are you sure they are real?” I asked.

“You open, you try on. You feel. You smell. Its leather” he said. I had a flashback to the pleather jacket I had once bought at Macy’s a few years ago. That Jacket cost me $80 and everyone thought it was real, and that jacket didn’t look as real as these. I had that jacket for years. Just this morning I was thinking that it was getting warmer and that I didn’t really have a spring jacket. These would work.

I felt the jackets, and even smelled them. They were like leather. “How much you got? You help me out please? I need to get directions still and go to airport” he said. Quickly thinking I said $150. I said $150 because if that pleather jacket from Macy’s cost me $80, than surely 2 of these would cost me $150 and he was throwing in a third one for free. (What does pleather stand for any way?) He made a face. For a second I thought he was going to just give me only 1 of them for that price. He reluctantly agreed to give me all 3. I pointed to the bank behind us. I needed to get out cash.

I took out $200 put $40 in my pocket and handed him over $160. I didn’t think he would have change. He didn’t. He said thank you and handed me the bag and got in the car. I stopped him again. I told him to wait as I looked at the jackets again. He stopped and even held the bag open for me as I looked at the jackets. The linings all looked fine. I guessed that $160 for 3 jackets that looked pretty good was a deal even if they were fake. Inside I was hoping they were not.

He sped off really quickly-- I mean really quickly. Vanished. I had a feeling at that moment I was scammed. I don’t recall him taking back the business card, but I no longer had it either.

Herbelicious called me back at that very instant. “What’s up?’ He asked. “Well I will tell you what happened in a bit. I think I was scammed on the street-- but maybe not, you tell me. Let me finish the errand for my boss and I’ll call you back”.

I finished the errand.

I called Herbelicious back. I told him what happened. “It’s a total scam! He was on the news and everything selling things from shoes to ripped suits. WILLIAM!! You know better than to buy things on the street. Are you back at the office yet? Let me see them. My friend bought a suit one time from the same guy i think, and it looked good but when he got home the inside didn’t even have linings!”

I had a sick feeling in my stomach. I spent money I shouldn’t have spent-- Money I could have spent on more important things! “Call me when you get back” Herbelicious said.

I got back to my desk and typed into Google “Salvatore Jacket Scam”. Sure enough articles come up with people spending way more money than I did. One guy even gave him a $500 dollar gold bracelet. I felt sick.

http://www.ripoffreport.com/reports/0/382/RipOff0382085.htm

Herbelicious came to my desk. I pulled them out. “Wow, these are actually nice” he said. Herbelicious tried them on.

I tried them on. They actually fit me pretty well. “They look good on you” Herbelicious said. He checked the linings. “You made a good deal, but this was a total scam. I wish I answered my phone! I wish I was with you! I would have said to him how he sold my friend a crappy suit!” I still felt sick to my stomach.

A co-worker walking by saw the jackets... "wow, what is this, you selling leather jackets on the side?" They were good enough to fool her.

Later that day I told a good friend Mykel what happened. He said "Sounds to me like you didnt get scammed at all. You made a conscious decision for a price based on what you knew, and got 3 of them! thats not a scam at all that's a deal!". I still can't help but feel that I wasted my money.

At least I have 3 coats for the spring now that look pretty good. I’m never buying anything on the street again. The signs were all there and I ignored them. Maybe I still am the Nice Naive Hawaiian Boy everyone thinks I am after all.

For Real! Seriously!

Photo credits: http://theovalcorner.blogspot.com/

A Real New York Moment: Subway Fights Part 2

2009-02-12T10:23:00.008-05:00

Featured Reader: Alika outNabout at the Coca Cola Store- Hotlanta, Georgia!

Sometimes being outNabout has nothing to do with being in a physical place, but has to do with experiencing something so unique and different, it could only happen in NYC.

A Real New York Moment :

One time... I was on the 4 Train going home. I hate taking the 4 Train. Every time I take the 4 Train, something crazy happens: a fight; a crazy preacher, or there would be a homeless person begging for money but expects you to give him more than a dollar- not just spare change; crazy stuff like that (I guess normal for the subway now that I think of it-I just feel awkward on the 4 Train). This afternoon was no exception.

I was on the train standing near the door when I noticed the cutest Puerto Rican woman sitting across me reading a book. She was like Rosie Perez, cute- but you could tell that she was feisty. She wore a Gay Pride necklace, black string with rainbow hoops on it. This woman wearing her necklace so full of pride brought me such a great feeling.

The guy sitting across from the woman noticed her too. He was a big Spanish guy maybe 6’3” or 6’4” and muscular (Hot!). He was wearing black tech pants, Converse shoes, a T-shirt, and over his head a do-rag. “I see that you are wearing a Gay Pride necklace. Are you a lesbian?” he asked the woman.

The Woman looked up and replied “I am”. She went back to her book.

“Maybe you just need a real man to show you how it’s done” he told her. Some people snickered and he had the attention of the whole train car now. I got scared. He might not bash a gay woman, but he might bash a gay man, so I turned my attention elsewhere and tried to butch it up as much as possible. I tried not to be noticed. I did turn the music down on my Ipod though.

“No thanks” said the woman, “I tried it. I have two kids, a son and a daughter. I’m pretty happy being a lesbian thank you”.

“Do you have a girlfriend right now?” the man asked.

The woman replied, “Yes I have a partner. We live together”. She was annoyed and tried to get back to her book.

“Interesting” said the guy. “Can I ask you a personal question? Do you kiss your partner in front of your kids?” he asked.

“Yes” replied the woman. “Why?”

The man appeared annoyed. “Now I have nothing against gays” he said, “but when you kiss your partner in front of your children that’s just morally wrong, morally wrong. Kids shouldn’t be exposed to that- to your lifestyle”.

“Morally wrong to show another person unconditional love no matter who they are?’ she replied. “I’m not teaching them to be gay; I’m teaching them to love unconditionally that is not wrong at all”.

“No it’s morally wrong! You planning on teaching your son how to stick something this big (he made an O with his fingers) into a hole only this big too?” (He made a smaller O with his fingers implying anal sex). The Lord Didn’t intend for that. Like I said, I don’t have anything against Gays, but when you involve your kids it’s just morally wrong!” People on the train started laughing. You could see the woman getting heated up. She looked like she was about to burst.

Suddenly she stopped. She took a deep breath. She collected herself and then asked the guy “do you think that it’s morally wrong for a man to hit a woman?”

“Yes” he replied, “I think it’s morally wrong for a man to hit a woman”.

“Why?” She asked.

“Because the woman is the weaker sex. A man is bigger and stronger than a woman. A man hitting a woman is morally wrong”.

“Even if the man is being attacked by a woman, like to defend himself?” She asked.

“Yep, even if a woman started it, it would be morally wrong to hit her. He should be stronger in the mind and know how to deal with it”.

“Well then good” she replied, “because right now I’m going to kick your mother fucking face in, and you are not gonna do shit ‘cause for you to do something to me would be Morally Wrong!” The Woman got up and threw her book down. Suddenly, the train came to a stop and the man bolted off the train.

The woman picked up her book, turned to everyone and announced “I’m sorry everybody, if I knew I was going to be talking about my personal life, I would have printed programs and handed them out”. The whole train car started clapping and several people came over and hugged the woman. It was nice to see all the support this woman got, and I realized that this was something that could only happen outNabout in New York City. I also realized that this is exactly why I don’t like to take the 4 Train.

For real. Seriously!

Thursday Night Fever: A 70's Disco Party

2009-01-30T16:58:00.015-05:00

Featured Reader: Priscilla lounging outNabout in Kent, Washington (State)

One time… the ad agency I work for, decided to throw our annual holiday party at the end of January! We were so busy with a huge business pitch this past December, that the powers that be decided to postpone the party till the end of January (1-29-09). Was it worth the wait? Totally.

It was a 70’s Disco party held at the Tribeca Film Center in NYC. A costume party! Having just worked the Studio 54 party as a dancer at the Hollywood Casino for New Year’s Eve, I knew exactly what I needed to wear: A John Travolta-esque tight fitted pants (that showed off my ass); long sleeved unbuttoned shirt with a gold chain (showing off my hairy chest); a vest; slicked back hair and dark shades.

The Tribeca Film Center is the perfect venue to throw a 70’s Disco themed party. Loungy rooms both upstairs and downstairs with bars that were big enough to hold our entire company, yet small enough to create the intimacy of a chic nightclub. They even had a movie theatre, and... A large spinning disco ball!

Desiree, Herbelicious, AnnMarie and I got to the venue early to take pictures (before the crowds came) as well as to get changed. Once we were dressed, the staff of the film center (decked out in their tie dye T-Shirts) confused us for the band that would be playing that night (I think that is why they let us put our things backstage rather than in coat check). I was decked out in my Saturday Night Fever get-up; Desiree in her 70’s Go-Go Girl dress; Herbelicious in his “Rico” costume complete with Afro and feathers for his hair; and AnnMarie in her 70’s Flower Power outfit.

In the main bar, we began snapping pictures of the venue for the event planner.

We had a hard time just taking pictures of the venue. We were too cute. We started posing: Charlie’s Angels; the staircase; and of course, some scandalous Studio 54 shots of Desiree’s legs.

We headed downstairs to the Bacardi Lounge to the FREE photo booth! First Herbert and Desiree, Then Me and Herbert, then Herbert and AnnMarie, then me and Desiree (And later me and Geia).
The Bartender downstairs offered to take some of the margarita salt and make some lines for us on the bar to do some “authentic” 70’s cokehead pictures. We decided to pass on those types of pictures. Don’t want that kind of "gossip" being passed around the work place.

After the photo booth fun, people started arriving for the party. We headed back upstairs to the main party room. Coming up the stairs, Herbelicious and I realized that people did not recognize us.

They especially didn’t recognize Herbelicious under all that hair, and no one seemed to be looking at my face while I was wearing those tight pants. “Nice Pants” people shouted to me from down the hall (lucky I was wearing a dance belt so that it wasn’t too vulgar—well maybe my ass was).

Not too many people came in costume, but those who did went all out. Big Afro’s seemed to be the theme of the night. My favorite afro was the big blonde afro worn by Chauncey-- she could have been Beyonce straight out of the Austin Power’s movie. Chauncey won the contest for the best outfit.

After a couple of announcements by Herbelicious (shouting RICO!) and Desiree pretending to be a singer, the “real” singers came out. They started off with "Disco Inferno".
The dance captain from my New Year’s Eve Casino gig was right. Every time I heard that song, I would feel the intense need to perform the choreography. Herbelicious and Desiree took to the floor jive dancing and go-go dancing. Herbelicious in his wig and funktified clothes looked strangely real and natural.

The lead girl of the band looked strangely like Drag Goddess/Sex Kitten Heather Daniels from the Atlanta gay scene; who also looks like Paulette from the movie Legally Blonde!

After a quick bite to eat of the really greasy food, on our way back downstairs to the Bacardi Lounge, Herbelicious and I ran into my boss. She seemed to recognize Herbelicious, but not me! I swear I heard her say “Nice Pants!” (Later she put 2 and 2 together).

Back upstairs, the band brought out two of their own go-go dancers decked out in gold-outfits and gold wigs. I must say, that I was a little jaded that my own company didn’t hire me to do this gig. The company I danced for would have had 8 dancers and did choreography, not just shake our asses like these girls did. They brought out hula hoops but couldn’t seem to spin them. Desiree showed them up! She not only did one, but 3! I too had to show these go-go girls up-- I decided to flag.

I flagged on the side as the band performed YMCA and Macho Macho Man. But then the lead singer came down to me and said “I want you with that-- up here on stage”. Being the attention whore that I am, I put on a show. Pictures were snapped left and right because straight people aren’t familiar with this gay dance form. Someone in the audience said “that boy has Broadway skills”. Another person said “He use to spin fire in a hula show in Hawaii”. Our finance guy moaned “this is turning into a gay club!”

The party was in full swing now. People were drinking and dancing and having a dynamite tubular time. They even had the movie “Saturday Night Fever” playing up on the video screens. People were snapping pictures of Desiree’s and my gold chains: Sexy and Single.

It was starting to get late, and since Tribeca Film Center is near the Bottom of Manhattan, and Herbelcious, me, and Desiree live in the Bronx, we decided to head home.
We went backstage and changed our clothes. There was no way we could head home on the subway like that. Desiree commented that we were like models just finishing a funky photo shoot.

On our way home, Herbelicious commented that he had nothing to eat at the party because the food wasn't so great. We decided to grab pizza at Famiglia on 44th and 8th, one of the usual pizza stops after a late night of partying. We so hungry! We WERE like starving supermodels who had just finished a funky photo shoot. We took the train to 145th street before Herbeliciouis said “screw this, let’s take a cab the rest of the way”. That is what we did.

For Real. Seriously.