Worlds & Time

Saturday, September 30, 2006

First Rejection

I'm generally a depressed person. I remember being depressed when writing the "Hypocondria Today" post below. Or at least wondering if I was depressed.

So, now that I've got my first rejection letter (a really, really short form rejection letter from Tor), I should be depressed, right?

Well, I'm not. I mean, it hurts, but I mean, duh. I didn't have illusions about it. It would have been nice to have been accepted, but let's come on people, crap like this gets published, so obviously previous publication is about a thousand times more important than writing ability. (I'm not recommending that book by the way. By fourth book, when I knew that every conversation had to be repeated by every major male and female character before the plot could progress, so every time something was said I groaned.)

So, obviously the next place I turn is Eos, who published Convergence by Sharon Green.

The real problem is, the book that I'm submitting is part of my baby, and usually the book, movie, song that is the artist's baby sucks. Now, granted, I don't think that "Endless Light" (which is the working title of the series, and is better sounding than the throw away title I made up for the book submission) sucks, but how would I know. No one ever thinks that their own writing sucks.

Granted, Mike and Jeff liked it. But they liked the ideas. How well I'm translating that onto the page is debatable.

And, you know. I'm kinda okay with the idea that I got a rejection letter. It would have been cool to be accepted on my first try submitting, but that's not realistic. Maybe within twenty?

Also, I should really work on a couple of short stories and shop them around. Now, all I have to do is find a magazine that publishes gay-themed science fiction, and I'm set.

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Thursday, September 28, 2006

Showbiz Moms & Dads

Does anyone else know who Christopher Paolini is?

Well, if you don't, he's a New York Times bestselling author, and he's 22 years old. His wiki page is here.

Somewhere in here, there is something that I find awfully painfully ironic. It's the same feeling that you get when you sometimes feel that somewhere out there, the entire universe is laughing at you, and no one has told you why.

I finished the first real draft of my book when I was a sophomore in high school. This is about the same time that I gather that Christopher Paolini would be starting Eragon.

And Chris is a best-selling author now, and I'm working the desk at a small hotel with no foreseeable future.

I can only wish that I'd had the kind of support that Paolini had from his parents. They self published his book, and then took him on tour to promote it. They spent their time on him, and they turned him into a star.

He's not the only one. Aside from the show "Showbiz" Moms & Dads, there are always more examples that I can think of. Just about anyone on American Idol has the support of their family. Watch "Inside the Actors' Studio" and see how many credit their parents, who may have moved to Hollywood, or perhaps took odd jobs so that their kids could have a chance to become big stars.

I'm not an actor, or a singer, or a musician, but writing is a pop-phenomena now. My hero is J.K. Rowling, but I know I'll never make it to here level. Chris Paolini's already got the secondary pop-writer spot covered.

I'm be okay with a David Eddings existence. Or maybe a Piers Anthony existence without all of the speculation about pedophilia.

Being a text only counterpart to Gabe and Tycho would be absolutely incredible.

But I have to wonder, if I'd had parents that would have gone to the floor for me and my writing the way that Chris Paolini's parents did for him, would things have turned out different for me?

Eh, we'll never know.

P.S. This a "blame my parents" without actually blaming my parents post. There are things that have happened in their lives which I imagine never happened to Chris's parents. The major sickness, the splitting up, the jobs that I guess kept them tie down.

This is wishful thinking. Nothing else.

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Hypochondria Today

I don't feel well. Specifically, I'm suffering from my fourth low grade migraine in less than a month. Despite the fact that I'm functional due to the miracle of Excedrin, I don't think this is normal.

I don't have health insurance. I can't go get it checked out, because if it is serious, then it will become a pre-existing condition, and I won't be able to get health insurance for it later.

Also, I'm saving because I want to move. New Mexico is killing me. Mike won't return my calls, I'm not sure how I feel about Jeff, and I dont' have anyone in the Santa Fe area. So I want to get out of here.

However, I just spent ~$700 dollars on my car, I just blew $200 dollars on basically nothing but crap that I don't need (although I thought I did at the time) and tomorrow I have to loan a minister $50.

So, can I really afford to start health insurance? Won't I have to wait for a month or so anyway to get checked out anyway? So that's two months of premiums for a diagnosis that I don't want to hear anyway.

This is just like me. I know I'm a hypochondirac. I know that this is probably something like having a bad diet, and if I went to see a doctor, he'd tell me that it's nothing, but I wish I could go see one so that he could tell me that it's nothing.

You know, thinking about it though, I can't decide if I'd rather have Brain Cancer, or nothing wrong with me.

I must be depressed again.


Sunday, September 24, 2006


I do art. A lot of it.

Most of it is written, and most people no longer consider writing art, and I have a tendency to agree with them. Writing is media not, and there isn't much media that's art.

Even the stuff that I eventually plan on publishing, it's not art, it's simply stuff that lives in the back of my mind, day in, day out. Maybe, when I start publishing, the characters that live in me will be able to get some rest.

Jonathan might as well be looking over my shoulder, nodding his head while he munchs on some chips. He's my Tyler Durden, and he knows it.

You know you're a Mary Sue, right Jon? Fast cars, lots of money, and power beyond anyone's ability to comprehend. That's what a Mary Sue has, and so you're a Mary Sue.

Jon wants me to point to another character, he doesn't like to think of himself that way. There is another character that I should accuse of being a Mary Sue, but telling the name would be giving away secrets. That's books away, remember?

Back on the point, I do art. I draw. I can't draw a human figure worth a darn, but I draw all of the same. Someday, someone's going to find the set of 13 panels that I did two years ago in Albuquerque and assemble them. The 3 interior panels are on my wall, but the rest are all over the country. The didn't do what I wanted, but it's still a work of art. Probably one of the largest ones in existence, actually.

There are what, six close panels after that? One went to my old boss Sara. The other five went to family members.

The four outlying panels are the really tough ones. One when to the Dark Amyrlin, one went to the Uncle that I've never met. One went to Isabelle. One went to GEMINI.

I've got copies of them, but the originals are interesting too.

I'm almost done with one. I'm thinking of calling it The 50th Symphony, but that would be pretentious, and possibly insulting. The other working title is The Unfinished Symphony. We'll see which one is more fitting.

The process is something that I love. It's very specific. First is the outline. Always an outline, because I like the way the chaotic interior of the work is offset by the clear and definite lines of the exterior. The outline is done with a pencil, a ruler, and a compass, and usually a triruler as well. Recently, I've been using a circle sheet to create nearly perfect circles, which look nice against the perfectly straight lines.

One the outline is done with pencil, then I trace it with a pen with a superfine nib. This will be the pen that I'll be using for stage 2. Right now, I've only got two Pentel pens that work for this, and so I really want more. The store that I bought them at is in Albuquerque though, and the branch her in S. Fe doesn't carry them.

This part is called fine line, and when I'm doing it, it's religious. It takes a fair bit of concentration, and I used to do it while I was in classes that I didn't like, and now I do it while I'm watching television. Inside the outline, Iwant as little while space as possible while following whatever pattern or rule that I've decided on. It's all very demanding.

It also takes hours. I've put easily 30 to 40 hours into the Symphony already, and I'm only 75% of the way through the fine line work. Probably another full week's work before I start the blocking.

When I'm doing fine line, large black areas waste ink and destroy the fine nibs, so I don't do more than outline them and fill in the corners and small sections during fine line. Blocking is when I go back and fill in the dark spaces. There have been a couple of times when I've seriously considered not doing the blocking at all, leaving the space white, but at this point, I've always filled it in. Experimenting with the blocking is still in my future.

That's when I erase the guidelines. I should use a lighter touch when I draw them, because sometimes they're to dark to cleanly erase, but when I'm done, it looks pretty amazing.

This, of course, would be the perfect time to show you an example of what I do, wouldn't it? But, of course, I don't have an example right now. I was supposed to, but I don't.

So check in the day after tomorrow, and I'll post an example then for you all to see.


I told you I'd have examples, but I'm not sure how this is going to work, so bear with me. If nothing else, I'll just post links.

Also: forgive the poor quality. I was using an old digital camera, and it doesn't always work great.

This first one is one of the six close panels from the 13 panel set. Yes, it's a picture of an original.

This second one is a picture in my apartment:

And a really lousy detail from the left hand one in the picture above:

Sorry about the blurry nature of the pictures, but you probably get the idea.

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Tuesday, September 19, 2006

Marc Broussard

So, here's a story about what happened last night (I'm writing this tonight, the night of, but it won't be posted until tomorrow).

I'm listening to Marc Broussard's CD Carencro, which Scott and his wife gave me for giving him a ride home. I suppose I shouldn't listen to it right after a live concert, but I think I can handle it.

Ah, well, that's fast forwarding a little bit.

Lance Bass came out of the closet. Everyone and their mother added him as a friend on their Myspace page, and since the rumor mill had gotten around to me early, I already had him as a friend (along with 10,000 other people). I spent some time being a good consumer and checking out the links that he had on his page, and one of them was Marc Broussard.

Now, the first two times I looked at his website, I don't think I noticed anything unusual, except I thought it was an interesting choice of music for a bubblegum pop star like Lance Bass to include on his page. Then again, I remember that one of the 98 Degrees boys listed Sade, so I guess that the music listings are more personal than I sometimes give them credit for.

Then, randomly, about two weeks ago, I was clicking through, and I saw that Marc's website listed a gig at the Santa Fe Brewing Company. The Santa Fe Brewing Company offices are about two minutes from my house, and the restaurant is about five minutes away. It's in the building of my first summer job, which was Wolf Canyon Brewing Company back in the day.

I thought that I'd missed it, but I drove past it this morning, and the sign was up, and I was surprised to find out, yes, it was on a Monday night.

I debated whether or not to go, and finally decided to. I invited my mother, but she declined to come with me, so I go out alone.

They've changed it a lot from when it was Wolf Canyon. Wolf Canyon was a lot fancier than what Santa Fe Brewing Company is now. The tables used to be sheathed in copper, instead of plaid or sunflower patterns. The food didn't come on trays, and they used to use real glasses for everything, even sodas.

It's also a really poor venue for a show. They had the stage set up in a good place, but on the ground level there are about a dozen posts that block the view of the stage. I got a good seat though, on the left side of the stage, about twenty feet back.

Marc's website listed the start time of the gig as 7:30, so I decide to show up early, and got there at 7:00pm, only to find that they'd pushed it back to 8:00pm. So I had time to eat, which was good, because the chicken Cesar salad was cheaper than I expected, and it was actually tasty.

The opening act was a guy named Valdez (I didn't catch his first name), and Michael Kopp. Valdez was the main guy, and he introduced them, and said a couple of things that I really didn't catch, except for that Kopp was going to be playing the electric cello.

So, the opening act was decent, not great, but interesting because I've never heard an electric cello before, and it was an interesting instrument. A little violin and a little percussion, the way Kopp played it, anyway.

Kopp reminded me of my father, actually. They're probably about the same age, and the both have a kind of far away feeling to them. Kopp has much longer hair than my father, and while he would play, he would head bang, and a couple of times I think his playing was a little out of tune because he couldn't see to hit the right notes.

He also had this interesting way of holding up his cello after each song. Most of the time he would even stand up, and hold it up, like he was praising it, or perhaps supplicating to it. In the end I decided that I really liked the electric cello, and there were some interesting songs featuring it, including one that I liked with a eastern or mid-eastern feeling.

There were two people that set up for Marc. One was at the table when I bought a ticket, and he was somewhat bitter about there not being any advertising for the show, and he didn't like the idea of half price for students (I really liked that idea). The ticket guy mentioned that it hadn't even made the paper, which I agree is sad. Anyway, he's the one running the sound board.

The other one was wearing a red shirt, and what looked like jeans that were cut off close to the length of capri pants. This guy went into my notebook as "red shirt" and he was really pretty, and the capris made him seem gay. I just thought I'd mention him, because he was one of the highlights of the night.

So finally Marc comes out, and actually I was calling him "red shirt 2" in my notes because he was wearing a red polo, one of those French caps . . . I can't remember the right name at the moment. Before I get to the playing, I just want to say that he's heavier than he looks on the cover of his CD (I checked after Scott gave it to me) and he's standing on a shag rug with no shoes on while he's playing, which was an interesting quirk. He also has a full beard now, which is very different that the picture.

The opening number was a solo, a sad piece about a boy named Casey that is the heir to a funeral home chain. I know that it's cliché to describe a voice as soulful, but Marc's voice was ten times better than Valdez, and you could hear absolutely every single word he spoke. I could even hear the accent, and that's quite a trick when you're singing.

Everyone pretty much stopped. Maybe some of them knew who he was, but I wasn't even sure that it wasn't just a band mate. It didn't matter, because it was so powerful that everyone was spellbound.

The next song, I guess is a new one that is going to be on his upcoming album . . . which I'm going to buy, because they've got me hooked. Anyway, the song was about having a good body image, and it actually reminded me of Christina Aguilera's song "Beautiful" in a really deeply moving way. In hindsight, I guess he wrote it because he's on the heavier side, but really, when he sang it, I thought it was about a girl. After all, he's a musician, and he's not obese, so really he probably gets tons of love.

The band joined in for the third song. The drummer was a thin white guy named Sean Gilmore. He seemed kinda white trash (I feel bad about saying that, but not enough not to say it). The bassist was black, and named Calvin Turner, and he was also really cute. They sang backup for a couple of the songs (it took me much too long to figure that out).

It was probably just the song, but they got about nine times louder for a while after the band joined in. I noticed that red shirt was off to one side, taking pictures while they were playing.

It was still good music though, and after they finished the third song, Marc had to check the score of the game. "Still 3-nothing?" he asked, and people laughed, and then after every other song, people would call out the score. It was a game between the Jaguars (who I've never heard of) and the Saints (take a wild guess) but I think the Jaguars won.

They played a lot of interesting music, and they had a lot of fun up on the stage. Sometimes, Marc would sing a line, and the bassist would imitate it on the bass. There were some drum solos too, and there was one at the end of the song that made Marc laugh right at the wrong time, and he had to pick up the song after a pause.

The sixth song was "Save Me," and I guess it's his big hit, because the crowd just went wild with it. Even I had a really good time with it. Granted, I also had to go to the bathroom right in the middle of it, but it was still beautiful.

I think my favorite song live was "Lonely Night in Georgia" which was a different arrangement than the one on the CD. It was much sadder, for one thing, and slower, and he gave it this heart wrenching twist. The vocals on the CD are all uniform, but performed live, he hit it with absolutely every ounce of soul behind it.

After ten songs, which was the song that he laughed and had to pick up, incidentally, the crowd just wouldn't stop clapping. I stood, and so did nearly everyone. The clapping must have gone on for a minute and a half. He came back, did another song with his band, and then another solo, but instead of the funeral motif where he started, this one was a love song, and that one was great as well. It was a nice song to end on, because it had some hopeful language in it, so it was slow but uplifting.

So, that was the concert. I should mention, there can't have been more than 40 people there, and I think he's probably a big enough name that 40 people should be insulting, but I had a great time, so I hope he knows that those of us that were there had a phenomenal time.

Before the concert, I don't know how I heard it, but I overheard two people in front of me mention that they'd caught a cab out from downtown and it had cost them a lot of money, so I approached them and offered them a ride back into town (even though I live right across the street from the venue).

I didn't catch her name, but Scott was the husband, and they were from Boulder. They told me this story about how they went with their son to one of Marc's concerts, and their son was such a big fan he tried to get out of the underage section with a fake ID, got caught, and got arrested. And then they waited until after the concert to go get him out of jail.

Anyway, they had an extra CD, I guess, and they gave it to me for giving them a ride. I was trying to save them some money, but I probably didn't save them that much because of how much CD's cost. I actually was somewhat surprised about that. I mean, I thought they'd try to give me a couple of bucks, and I was going to refuse it, but I couldn't refuse the CD. As I pointed out at the beginning of the story, I've been listening to it, and it's really good.

I got them back to their bed and breakfast with some "creative driving" and headed home. Overall, it was a really good night.

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Monday, September 18, 2006


I'm pro-marriage.

Not just gay marriage, either. I'm pro-hetero marriage too.

About a year ago, a peripheral friend of mine got married (hetero marriage). She was about three years younger than me at the time, and I suddenly realized that for the first time in my life, I didn't get the "spidey sense" tingle that I usually get when people get married during her wedding.

I think I cried. I might not have.

I haven't kept in touch with her, which is a crying shame, because I really, really want to know how their marriage is doing.

Eliott's (hetero) wedding is coming up in January, and I don't get a warning from that either. But then again, Eliott's know this girl for longer than he's known me, and I trust him to make the right decision. Which is odd, because I could see that he was having problems with his on/off girlfriend of more than a year.

There are a lot of people that I think do really well in marriage. But the only one that I can think of that happened when the participants were between 18 and 24 that I think is worth anything was Debbie's (the one I talked about first). So now I'm curious to know if I have any sort of sense for these things.

Here's one problem. Two friends of mine moved in together, and it totally blew up in their faces, and it's freaking mindless. I'm ticked about it, because gosh darn it, it involved me. I couldn't say anything though, even though I knew it was a bad idea at the time. If you want something, I've seen people make it happen, but this wasn't one of those times.

And later, I would learn exactly how right I was.

All of the above stuff was pretty specific, so here's some vague musings on the rest of it.

If you're in college, you're too young to get married. You can date, but wait 'till after graduation to marry. Or one of you should leave college when you get married. College is a big deal. Marriage is a big deal. Eventually, something's going to come up to make someone choose between their marriage, and their school. If both people are is school, that'll put them on mutually exclusive paths.

If your husband/wife is surrounded by beautiful people of the sex that he or she is interested in, you can choose to understand what's going on, or fight against it. Granted, I think that either way, you're going to loose.

Marriage isn't a now thing. Six months isn't enough time. Come back three years from now. If you're still dating, I'll send away for an internet minister certificate and marry you myself. The number of people that are "different" and have "special" relationships that will last is vanishingly small. You might be ready, but what about your partner? This is a two person deal, you know.

I'm not ready for marriage. I know that no matter what, it's going to be a few years. I simply don't have the experience with relationships that I need to have. Someday, I hope that will change, but don't have any illusions, that change isn't going to come over night.

So, yes, I'm pro marriage, but there are a lot of marriages that I'm against. Brittney and Cletus, for example, is not a marriage, it's a game show. The children they've had pretty much proved that. Tomkat is . . . well, something. Something not good.

"Love" is not rational enough to make a decision about marriage, which, oddly, is why I think the state should be involved. Otherwise, the idea that this is some sort of contract with real consequences might not strike people.

I guess this has turned into a rant. I remember Thomas and Dustin though, and I never, ever want people to be in the middle of that, especially if I'm one of the people. T & D was quite painful to watch, and probably heart rending to be a part of.

And here's the end of the rant, a quip:

Marriage doesn't solve things. It really all is about communication.

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Wednesday, September 13, 2006

Wants vs. Needs

Issue 1:

I want for one of my best friends to not be dating my other best friend's girlfriend. Especially since it destroys what small fragment of a social life that I had left. I want to know if at any point I could have made things better, or if I did make things worse.

I need to be able to figure this out in a way where everyone isn't fighting again, and so that they'll talk and forgive.

Issue 2:

I need to move to go somewhere and do something.

I want to move to NYC and work at a beautiful hotel as an assistant manager while I write in the evenings. Or to Miami Beach (and do the same thing). I don't have enough money to do anything of the kind, but staying here doesn't seem like it's going anywhere. I could stay with E., but he's getting married. Yarg.

Issue 3:

I need to get into shape.

Okay, that's a lie. I want to get into shape. Kevin says he should be a personal trainer, and I wish I had enough money to hire him. I'm afraid if I say anything else, it will destory the semi-self improvement kick that I've been on recently.

Issue 4:

I wish I was published. I'm a writer, dammit, and I don't have a magazine article to my name. I need to do something or other. Publishing a book (or books) would be preferable, but publishing a movie review would be acceptable.

Issue 5:

As pointed out in issue 2, I'm leaving, and that usually means that I'm going to meet someone for some sort of relationship so that I can painfully break up with them (or at least the idea of them) right before I go. I'd like this person to be smart, funny, and a D&D player that looks like Mason Wyler. Realistically, I'd take someone that won't freak out about the fact that I'm leaving.

There's a to-do list in there somewhere (in order of screwed up wish fufillment priority):

1. Get published.
2. Get in shape.
3. Date.
4. Buy a wedding present and move to New York.
5. Play D&D. Somehow.

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Friday, September 08, 2006

Just Visiting

I'm not a good host.

Not because I don't try. Completely the opposite, in fact, but I guess the whole sheltered life thing is worse than I thought.

So, I had a friend from Rochester visit me for the first time, which was cool in that I got to see Matt again, but it also reminded me that I didn't really have any friends good enough to come out right away. And all of this is compounded by the fact that he's a better friend to the first guy I had a disasterous relationship with than to me.

Anyway, Matt comes in and we come to dinner at my work. The guy, aside from being intelligent and interesting, is also a deeply committed evangelical Christian. I forgot to ask him if that's how he defines himself, but as far as I can recall it's close enough.

So, most people would assume that we wouldn't get along, but we do get along. We had a long circular conversation about religion and I finally found someone to ask about possibly starting a Bible study online, and he gave me some tips and tricks. Turns out that we both use Bible Gateway for our online Bible needs, but he suggested a concordance to help me get started. He suggested two types of textual studies. The first is OIA, which stands for observe (and read) the text, interpret (and put in historical context), and then analyze (and if you're a Christian, adapt). The second is literary analysis, which helped him understand some interesting construction details about evangelism that I think are cool. Or at least, I think so. I forgot my notebook, so that's all from a hazy memory.

Depending on how well you know me, this is either odd or understandable. If you think it's odd, then you probably don't know enough about how much time I spend online at IIDB and CF.

Anyway, I love religion. Especially pop cosmology (i.e. angels and demons). It's a lot of fun, but I'm still an atheist. I have too many issues with the problem of evil and etc. to believe in a god.

I've been thinking of starting a bible study. At IIDB though, it would probably go in the Biblical Criticism and History forum, and well, I don't speak Latin, Greek, or Aramaic, so I'm worried that my intro level Bible study will get outpaced pretty quickly.

My own forum is dead, so, can't go there, and CF is so much worse than IIDB.

So, I'm kinda torn about what to do.

So, back to Bible Study . . . no, back to being a bad host. At the end of dinner, I showed Matt the check. I'd specifically reminded myself before dinner not to show him, and then I couldn't figure out the tip, so I had to show him how much it cost.

Darn it. Strike one.

The next morning, we drove up to Bandelier National Monument to see the cliff dwellings in the canyon. I'm not an early person, and I forgot the entrance fee. Matt had it, and I think he felt guilty about dinner (he shouldn't have, it was a treat for me too). Strike two.

He left that afternoon. About three hours later my mother is talking to me, and says, "Hey, did you feed him lunch before he left?"

Er . . . no. Darn it. Strike three.

So, yeah, I'm a horrible host.

Also, horrible other thing that happened real quick: S. mentioned that Mike might be worried about being physically affectionate with me when he's straight and can't back it up with sex.

What? He thinks what?

I'd date Mike in a second if he was gay, but he's not. I understand that. I'm not expecting sex from him, and darn it all if I was worried about our boundaries already. I really needed to talk to him alone so that I could set him straight on the whole physical contact issue, and I never got the chance when I was up in the 'burke this Wednesday.

So, Matt, if you're reading this, I'm sorry, and Mike, I'm not ever going to ask you to sleep with me.

Eh . . . I really just need to call both of them.

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Monday, September 04, 2006

Random Thoughts on English, Body Image, Sluts, and Sex

First, have you noticed that aside from numerous minor spelling mistakes, I use real words and sentences?

I've had a couple of messages on myspace from people recently (probably due to that seem to be trying to hook up. (Just for reference here, I'm talking about things are obvious hook ups, like: "u can hit me up for a g8 time l8r, dude." If we've been talking about KH2, then you fall into the "cute" category, so don't worry about it.)

The odd thing is, most of them can't seem to use basic English. If you're cute, it doesn't matter so much, but if you're not cute and you're talking like a five year old, what am I supposed to think. What am I supposed to think about how the question is phrased?

The answer to the question is usually yes, I want to have sex with you, but I don't even know how to respond to "u wnna hook up sme tme?" Not when you put it like that.

You know what would be cool? I'd really like to interview someone about their sex life. In real English. With me taking notes. If you're interested, let me know and I'll type it up for this blog or something. I'll keep it annonymous if you want. If there's one kink that I have, it's voyerism.

Second, my body image has been going really down recently. I need to work out, but I hate it and it hurts when I do it. But every time I take one step in the right direction I take a step back.

So, basically, I'm a lot heavier than I want to be at the moment, and I'm really hoping that the neurosis will lead to some sort of eating disorder.

Third, remember how I marked off that blog entry a while back with warning labels? Here's another one:

If you're a family member or a co-worker of mine that doesn't want to know about my sex life, you might not want to read further. It's about sex and it's mildly graphic. And when I say mildly, I'm lying.

Bobby's latest blog entry is called "Everyone Loves a Slut" and I couldn't agree more. I love sluts. I recently sent a friend request to Mason Wyler who's an absolutely gorgeous porn star. Oddly, my favorite picture of him on Myspace is this one:

It's so happy and full of personality, and really makes him seem a real person (and I'm sure he must be). Just like how the articles about Fredrik Eklund made him seem more real. I guess I'm just odd like that, but I really like the guys that are happy with who they are (and who wouldn't be happy as a porn star?).

Why do I love sluts? I don't know. A visit from a really good friend recently reminded me that I don't believe in sin, and so I don't believe that random hookups are a bad thing. Except that I guess that I'm terrified of them because I don't seem to interact with people well. Did you read above, about how I want to interview someone about their sex life? I wasn't joking about that. I'm a really strange guy, and I'm worried that unless I appear normal, guys won't like me.

Anyway, so there are guys on Myspace that I'm interested in that I can't even get up the nerve to simply approach, and to the tell you the truth, I can't handle the pressure. I'd like to meet them on my terms, which is tough because my terms are bizzare and disorienting. Like doing interviews, or playing board games.

And I'm not just saying that. I like interviews and board games, and I'd be perfectly happy playing in a no pressure situation where I'm in control.

How strange is that.

Last point: I'm really bad at bottoming. I really wish I was better, but I guess when you skip out on the learning phase, you're screwed, in a literal and figurative way.

It's painful and uncomfortable, and I'm sure that it's not supposed to be, but I don't really know. It's wasn't as bad as the first time, but it's not something that I could be content with all the time. This is probably why I think Mason's such a good porn star, actually.

On the other hand, I'm a big proponent of at least the idea of versatility.

I'm going through a high sex drive phase though (which is interacting oddly with the poor body image). So great, whatever.

Anyway, that's too much information. But I should be going. I'll continue with a more detailed investigation of my kinks some other time, and that will be way, way too much information.

Have a good night.

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