Recently in Daily Life Category

Hey Y'all,

I know I'm the last person to say this but I wanted to wish all of y'all a happy new year. I know I was M.I.A. all of last week as I was on a mini vacay, you know, recharging the proverbial batteries and all, but I'm back now and ready to swing into action.

As I've said before, I'm not one of those "new year, new me" people. I'm basically the same dude I was the week before last, just growing and changing, little by little each day, with no regard to the calendar year. I have no major, life changing resolutions this year, well, they're not very dramatic anyway. My goals are to finish and get my book out to the public, be a little better with my money and to take more pictures this year. So many great moments pass by throughout our lives and we fail to document them. That's all.

Thanks so much for reading and supporting the blog this past year and be on the lookout for the second anniversary of the blog in February.

Much love,
-Adam

Well here we are, on the last day of the year of our Lord 2008. For some it's been a great year, for others, not so great, especially on the financial tip. Before I go to church and out to party tonight I could not let this year go out without sharing my 8 lessons I've learned in 2008 just like I did last year, listing 7 lessons I learned in 2007 (You can check out that post here). So here they are:

Lesson One:
If it's too hard, it ain't God.
When God has something for you, he has it just for you. Whether you're into it or not, writing is something God had for me. It just comes naturally. I wanted to share my writing with people so I started a blog, people came. Many others have started blogs and people didn't come. It's probably not what God had for them. I suck at basketball, I'm pretty sure that's not what God had for me, but it's certainly what God had for Shaquille O'Neal. After taking that small step of faith, starting the blog I never knew that it would grow as much as it has, but it has. Even the book thing, I never really planned on writing a book. When I was seven years old my second grade teacher told me that I was gonna grow up to be a writer and that I should dedicate my first book to her, but I never really thought about it again after that. Fast forward, I'm an adult and I'm writing my first book.

This even goes for things that we ask God for. You praying about that new job, new car, or even just a way to pay your rent this month. Hey, I feel you, times are hard. But just know that if you're expecting something from God you don't have to lie and scheme to get it. Just do all you need to do and he will do the rest.

There's a song that they used to sing in church when I was growing up that said "What God has for me, it is for me." and it's true. When something is yours, it's yours. You don't have to stress it because whatever you don't get wasn't for you anyway.

Lesson Two:
Listen to your heart, it doesn't like to be broken.
The reason why we're in relationships that continually break our hearts is because we don't listen to our hearts in the first place. I was in a relationship where I knew from the beginning that he was not right for me. The things he would do, the things he would say. I knew after a couple of weeks that we we're not gonna make it for the long haul, but yet and still I kept holding on, letting my mind rationalize why I shouldn't let go. Cherishing the far and few good times, fear of being alone, fear of seeing him with someone else, the whole while, ripping my heart into shreds. If I had listened to my heart in the first place and let go before I got in too deep I would have spared myself a lot of pain. A lot of times we see the mind as smart and the heart as this wild free spirit and we tend to ignore our hearts, but in matters of the heart, the heart knows best.

Lesson Three:
Don't forget about your friends.
Y'all know how much of a romantic I am and how much I love me some love, right? Right. Coming into the year 2008 I promised myself that I'd take my focus off love and concentrate on strengthening my current friendships as well as acquiring new friends. 'Cuz you know how we can get when there's a new man in our lives. He becomes our instant everything and we tend to throw our friends, the ones who have been there for us before this new man came along and will be around after he goes along (if he goes along), to the side. I still wanna fall in love, and I know it's out there for me and that it'll come eventually, but while Mr. Right is on his way here, I'll be hanging out with my friends.

Lesson Four:
You can't be in a relationship all by yourself, no matter how hard you try.
Relationships should flow organically, in a symbiotic way. Yes relationships are work, but it's gotta be a labor of love and the both of you have to be working together because neither of you can quote-unquote "make it work" alone, no matter how much you do. It's like Deborah cox says in her song "Play Your Part", "Love is like a see-saw. It takes two in order for it to work..." If you're doing everything and they're doing nothing, you're in a relationship by yourself anyway, so being by yourself isn't much of a stretch, at least you could date. In a nutshell, don't ever bother running after anyone because you'll never catch up.

Lesson Five:
In a relationship I have to love you more than I love us.
I was in a relationship with someone where when we started I loved the idea of us more than I loved him. A lot of times we'll meet someone and be into him and want to fit him into our little box, our ideal, our perfection, our perfect couple, without getting to know who he is. In getting to know him I learned that he was not a person that I could be in a relationship with and that half of that time, the time we (I) tried to make it work, I didn't even like him all that much and we always argued. I still loved him, but we just couldn't quite get along in a relationship. We were in different places and wanted different things. I tried to compromise, in essence, change to suit him, which made me resentful and would then lash out at him because my investments in the relationship didn't yield the results that I expected in that he never compomised himself for me. He just wasn't in that symbiotic, give and take relationship space. Everything was all about him. I was doing all the giving and all he'd do was reap the benefits of my sacrifice. In loving myself and even him I realized that we're better just being friends. But if I had just gotten into who he is instead of who we could be from the get go we could have skipped all the drama, tension, and anxiety and just been where we are today. When you really love the other person for all that they are, the good and the bad things and are still cool with all of that, the us part will fall into place.

Lesson Six:
They always come back...
I wrote a blog post about this last week but I'll touch on it again. So you're hurt, wondering why such and such never called you back, why so called friend played you the way he did, especially when you were so good to them etc., etc., etc. I'll tell you this. Keep on living and I promise you that all those people will try to come back into your life again. And when they do you'll be over them and then wonder why you were ever so into them in the first place. Trust me.

Lesson Seven:
My silence speaks a thousand words.
When you're done with a microphone what do you do? You put it down and you walk away, you don't continue to speak to it. And that's exactly what we should do when you are done with a person and/or a situation. A lot of times we argue about something or respond to something they say in an effort to get that proverbial last word. Why? If there's nothing left then there's nothing left to argue about. And since there's nothing left then there's nothing that needs to be corrected or set straight. Let them feel the way they feel even if it's wrong. The case is closed so why are you still litigating? Why should you care about their opinion of you anymore? It's over. In saying nothing, you've said everything.

Lesson Eight:
Things are easier said than done but if you just did them there'd be nothin' else left to say.
If we spent half the time we spend obsessing over, whining about, and complaining about what we don't wanna do and just did it. We'd get a lot accomplished.

So that's it. I'm so excited to head into '09. I'm not one of those weird, new year, new beginning people, but I have to admit that all the hoopla is exciting. I wish you all a happy, healthy, prosperous and drama free 2009.

Much love,
-Adam

==========
Playing In The Background...
"Up"
by The Saturdays
from the album "Chasing Lights"
==========

Hey y'all,

I hope you all had a lovely Christmas weekend. Mine was great. I drank a little, partied a little, and ate a whole lot. I even cooked Christmas dinner for my friends. Y'all ain't know I could cook, did you? There's two rooms of the house I do my best work in, the kitchen and the bedroom. LOL

My little sister and her husband came up from down south for the weekend. She hadn't been to New York in a few years and he'd never been to New York so I got the chance to play tour guide. We all had dinner and drinks together, her and him along with me and my friends. It was cool that I finally got a chance to invite my sister into my gay life here in New York. It was nice for her and my brother-in-law, a straight church-going couple to eat and drink with gay folks and see that we're all not so different after all. Especially for him, a straight black man to see that not all gay men are triflin', nasty-ass queens trying to always "turn somebody out". It was a great experience. You know me, always trying to bolster gay-straight relations.

I want to wish all of you a very merry holiday season and a healthy and prosperous new year. Thank you all so much for reading and visiting the blog and for all the emails over the past year and even for stopping me on the street and telling me how much you read and enjoy the blog.

I appreciate you all so much, probably more than you know.

Much love and holiday cheer,
 -Adam

==========
Playing In The Background...
"Happy Holiday"
by Faith Evans
from the album "A Faithful Christmas"
==========

Last night I stopped by the laundromat to pick up my clothes (cuz, like who has time to wash their own clothes anymore?). When I walked into the laundromat I was greeted by my favorite of the girls who work there. Every time I see her we talk about all kinds of things, mostly love and sex, comparing my experiences as a gay male and hers as a straight female and she always takes good care of me every time I come. She was standing there with another woman who was looking me up and down. It almost felt as though they were talking about me before I walked in.

As I reached for my bag of newly washed and folded clothes the lady chimed in:

"How u doin?"

"I'm good."

"Where you live at, the Dunbar?"

"Nah, I live in a building up the street."

"Hmmm. You handsome too. Where ya girl at?"

At this point my homegirl is smiling from ear to ear. I was smiling too as I answered her.

"Nah, I'm gay."

She looked a little shocked. Probably because she didn't expect someone fairly masculine, low key and just regular like me to be gay. She and many straight people don't realize a lot of this time that the gays come in many shapes, sizes and dispositions. We're not all flaming queens, no offense to the flaming queens, y'all know I love y'all, probably a little too much at times, but that's a whole 'nother blog post.

"Oh aight. That's cool. Y'all are my best friends. Do you boost? Cuz' I know y'all can boost somethin' terrible."

"No I don't boost."

I told my little story to say this. Telling that woman at the laundromat that I was gay filled me with so much pride. Not like late June, walk down the street in a rainbow thong pride, but a more internal sense of pride. I thought about all of the years that people weren't proud to tell someone that they were gay and all the years that people were afraid. I thought about the gay men who in a situation like mine wouldn't have told a woman who was interested in them that they were gay.

This is definitely a new day. As we as gay people make our presence known to the masses via TV, music, movies, the internet and other media we shouldn't forget about the people in our own communities. The new gay rights movement in the US definitely gotta evolve to be a grass roots, person to person thing as well. Our battles aren't just for the lawmakers on Capitol Hill, but for our neighbors we see everyday. Sure, people see the Logo Network and shows like "Will & Grace", and may even understand the plight of the gays, but it's not real and we're not real, until people can say that they actually know a gay person. That personal connection with people is the only thing that's really gonna dispel the stereotypes and break down barriers.

I feel in my own little way that I taught that woman something, that all gay people aren't a certain way and that we don't all steal ("boosting" is stealing, just in case you didn't get that) and that we're normal everyday folks just like everybody else. With that knowledge next time someone says to her that all gay men are like this or like that and that all gay people steal, she'll be able to say, no that's not true, there's this gay guy around my way who's not like that. And maybe, just maybe, when or if gay marriage rights hits the ballots here in New York that woman will think of the handsome guy from around the corner that she met at the laundromat that night before she steps in the voting booth. Equal rights, that's what I want for Christmas.

Merry Christmas Y'all!

==========
Playing In The Background...
"My Christmas Prayer"
by BeBe Winans
from the album "My Christmas Prayer"
and
"What Child Is This"
by Vanessa Williams
from the album "Star Bright"
==========

"Don't it always seem to go, that you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone?"
-Janet Jackson

Hey everybody,

I know I haven't been writing that much lately. A lot has been going on that I'm not necessarily all at liberty to talk about yet. Often times I've described situations in my life as "pending litigation" in that I can't really speak on it because I'm not done with it and I haven't really formed a full viewpoint on it yet.

In other news. I'm still looking for a new job. I left my last job earlier this year to pursue freelance graphic design, something I'm hating more and more by the second. See, this is the thing, I love computers and graphic designing... for me, and maybe a friend here and there, but to take on clients and do it for other people to make money has become unbearable. Graphic and web design used to be something I loved to do and now I've ruined it by making it a job. I spend more time drumming up new clients and chasing current clients for my money than actually designing. I'm not a graphic designer, I'm a collections agent. I'm not patient enough for this shit. And on top of that people are so damn nitpicky when it comes to this design shit, nitpicky without knowing what the fuck they want or a clue of what the fuck their talking about. I'm so over it.

I actually miss the days of having a nine to five. Waking up and doing the same thing every day and knowing that you're going to get paid the same thing every week, such bliss. That's the thing about life, we think we know what the hell we want until we actually get the shit. I can't deal with the entrepreneurial drama right now. I've got a book to finish. How am I gonna write when I'm always out looking for the next client? I'm in need of some stability right now at least until this whole writing thing blows up. And I actually miss having a reason to have to get up and get out of the house every day, and seeing people, I used to see people.

I miss the hotel business, it's the only business I know and being away from it for so long has shown me how much I love it. You really don't know what you have until it's gone. Joni Mitchell ain't neva lie! I was out walking around with resumes the other day, leaving them at different hotels when I ran into this guy that I used to manage back in the day who is now a manager. That got me to thinking, damn, if I had stayed where I was back then, who knows where I'd be now. I've got some serious catching up to do. I tell you, the grass always looks greener on the other side until you find out your next door neighbors been spraying their shit with green paint all these years.

For those of you reading this at work, hating your job, think before you do something you'll regret (I know someone needed that). There's a million unemployed bitches out there who would love to be sitting in your cubicle right now.

As you're reading this I'm probably the huge job interview I'm scheduled to be at today right now. Pray I get this job. It's my dream job and I want it so bad and I'm perfect for it. I have faith that it's mine and I'm walking in it. At this point I've placed it all of it, the job, my life, my finances, and all of my other "its", in God's hands. He knows much better than I do.

So that's where I've been. Looking for work. I'll keep you all posted with what happens.

==========
Playing In The Background...
"Got 'Til It's Gone" feat. Q-Tip
by Janet Jackson
from the album "The Velvet Rope"
and
"All In His Hands"
Dr. Charles G. Hayes & the Warriors
from the album "The Remix"
and
"Be Grateful"
by Walter Hawkins & the Love Center Choir
from the album "Love Alive 2"
and
"It's All In Your Mind"
by Mya
from her album "Sugar & Spice"
and
"Hotel Lobby"
by Utada
from the album "Exodus"
==========

PS: There was a question asked about my blog changing formats. My blog has no format, it's my life, I'm the format. On this blog I do many things, all extensions of my life and personal interests. Sometimes I write about what's going on in my life, sometimes I write about my favorite music, sometimes I answer advice letters. Different readers like different things. I get emails from people who love that I expose them to new music, others who are inspired by something I learned after going through a bad relationship and others who love to read and respond to my advice letters. At AdamsWebLog, there's something for everybody and not everybody is gonna like everything I do or say here all the time. So if I do a kind of post that's really not your taste, hold tight, I'm sure that the next post, or the one after that, or the one after that will be one that's probably more your thing.

"I've always depended on the kindness of strangers."
-Tennessee Williams

"Everybody's a stranger until you get to know them. Even when you were born, yo mama was a stranger. You had to get to know her ass too!"
-Adam Benjamin Irby

So I went out with some friends on Friday night, let's call them Mitch, Norman, and Jackson. I don't go out to the clubs much, but it was Jackson's birthday and that's what he wanted to do so naturally I followed suit. Before going out to the club we chilled at Mitch and Norman's place (they're roommates), getting a little drunk and whatnot.

We left their house at around 1:30am, our first stop being a neighborhood house party, the birthday party of this kid me and Mitch know off MySpace. We stayed there for about 20 minutes, just enough time to mingle a little and drop off our alcoholic contribution to the soiree. From there we took a cab to the club arriving around 2:30am. I had a great time there, chillin' on one of the couches, saying my hellos, catching up with people, being shady to ex dates, you know, showing my face to the kids, letting them know I'm still alive, all while floating on my champagne-chronic-induced cloud. Before you know it, the party was over. It seems to go by even faster when you're under the influence like we were. All that floating and talking made Norman and I a little hungry so we all went to a diner a block and a half away where Mitch, Norman and I ended up ordering food. The birthday boy, Jackson along with Mitch wanted to drink some more as well. Knowing our limits, Norman and I were done with drinks for the night. When the waiter came Jackson and Mitch ordered drinks, but the waiter declined their order, saying that they couldn't serve any alcohol past 4am. This setback didn't deter them from their goal of getting even more fucked up that night, so they went out and got some beers from the corner store to drink outside while our orders were being prepared. They drank and came back just in time for our food to be served. We ate, talked and laughed and eventually we left the diner as day began to break.

After piling back into another cab to reach Mitch and Norman's place we step out to the sounds of music, club music, vogue music, coming from an iridescent cream-colored, luxury SUV across the street and halfway down the block. We see about five or six kids falling out of it, dancing, voguing and dipping onto the asphalt. On our way into the house Norman and I are looking at them like, wow, what the hell are these queens doing over here, because they obviously were gay. After somehow being beckoned to come over before I knew it they were in the house. See that's where it gets fuzzy, I can't exactly, exactly recall how they got into the house and with exactly what permission, because it all happened so fast and I was so fucked up but, hey it wasn't my house. I was a guest there as well so I went with the flow. It's all in fun, right? I do remember that Norman didn't seem all the way okay with things, but he didn't put up much of a fuss either.

During the time that they were there, once they'd all arrived from both cars, in total about nine of them to the four of us, three on the couch in front of me, three on the other couch turned perpendicular to the right of me, the other two or three scattered about the room, I can't say that I felt particularly threatened or really uncomfortable in any way, although we were severely outnumbered if some shit were to go down. It just felt like a continuation of the party. Music was playing and of course Jackson had to let all of our guests know that it was his birthday. He even tried to get them to sing "Happy Birthday" to him but they were too drunk to oblige. Upon further questioning we learned their names, and that most of them were in the ballroom scene, what houses they were in and we even found out that they were coming from the same club that we were at earlier that night. I'm not sure exactly how they got into the club though as a few of them were obviously underage, especially the eighteen year old in their company who wasn't doing a good job at holding his liquor between drunken yells of "Work Sasha bitch!" at Beyonce every time her image showed up on the TV screen. They all just seemed like a bunch of harmless kids to me.

After passing around their big-ass bottle of Georgi vodka amongst themselves and to Mitch and Jackson, Mitch suggested starting up a game of spades. Norman began to further express his opposition to the impromptu party that had developed by asking Mitch to put the playing cards away. That action basically signaled the end of the party and a few awkward moments later all of the kids began to say their goodbyes and file out one by one, the last of them telling me and Norman, who was sitting on the arm of my chair by that time, that we looked good and alluded to the idea of him staying and possibly have a threesome with us. We smiled and sent him on his way.

After regaling each other with stories about the evening we all ended up falling asleep, Me in the chair I was sitting in the whole time, Norman down the hall in his bedroom, Jackson on that couch that was perpendicular to me and Mitch on his bed, which was behind that couch. After waking up a few hours later, my neck all fucked up from sleeping in that chair to the lovely image of my friends, passed out, drunk and snoring all around me I decided to make use of that couch that was right across from me. It was a daybed as well so I let it out, removed Jackson's jacket from the head of it, took the two burgundy pillows I found from under the jacket and continued sleeping. A couple of hours later I woke up to the sounds of Mitch and Norman rifling around me.

"Oh my God! I can't believe this! My $1400 computer is gone!"
Norman exclaimed.

"Say what?"
I questioned back.

"My computer, it was right there last night, right where your head is."

"Nah it couldn't have been here. I let the couch down and everything, I woulda seen it."

"Oh my God! They stole my computer."
Norman lamented, pacing back and forth around the house.

As Jackson was awakened by our conversation, in shock and disbelief we both started checking for our things. That's when Jackson realized that his wallet was gone from his coat pocket. Mitch explained that when he woke up he checked for his wallet and discovered that his credit cards were gone. When he went to go to cancel them via Norman's computer he realized that that was gone too and that's when he went into Norman's room and woke him up and they in turn woke me up and here we are. As I checked my pockets, ready to survey my potential losses I realized that all my shit was was still there, my wallet, my keys, my iPod, my phone, right in my pants pockets where and how I left it. I almost didn't wanna tell them. Just then Mitch realized that his Christian Dior sunglasses were missing too.

In the midst of all this loss and misfortune I felt really weird sharing with my friends how fortunate and vigilant I was. I sat on my coat the whole time those kids were there and I always try to know where all my vital shit is at all times. Unlike my friends here, I'm a native New Yorker, I was raised not to trust anybody I don't know around my shit and those kids were no exception. I felt terrible for Norman though, he had a MacBook, just like I do, the same exact one and Lord knows I'd be so hurt if something happened to mine. Especially some ol' avoidable shit like that.

To be continued...

==========
Playing In The Background...
"Blur"
by Britney Spears
from the album "Circus"
==========

This has been my romantic life for the last couple of weeks:

Adam meets boy.
Adam and boy talk.
Boy comes to see Adam.
Adam cooks dinner.
Adam and boy have have a good time.
Adam fucks boy.
Adam and boy cuddle.
Boy tells Adam that he'd like to get to know him.
Boy has to leave so Adam walks boy to the train station.
Adam and boy make plans to see each other again.
Adam texts boy.
Boy never texts back.
Adam hasn't heard from boy since.

Adam meets another boy.
Adam and boy talk for a couple of weeks.
Adam and boy have actually known and liked each other for a while but have never made any moves toward each other romantically.
Boy comes to see Adam.
Adam and boy mess around.
Boy sucks Adam's dick.
Adam and boy cuddle.
Boy spends the night.
Adam cooks breakfast.
Adam and boy make plans to see each other again on Sunday.
Boy leaves.
Sunday comes and goes, Adam doesn't hear from boy.

Yeah, so that's it. What's weird about it all is that situations like these don't hurt me as much as they used to. In years or even months past I'd be a basket case, calling and texting trying to find out what happened and what went wrong. Now I don't bother. Situations like this annoy me more than anything. I LOVE honesty and I HATE my time being wasted. If someone only wants sex or a hot meal or a place to stay for the night and is not attracted to me, I'm absolutely fine with them telling me that. Lord knows I'm honest with people about how I'm feeling. I don't have the patience to lead anyone on. At the end of all the day honesty is always the easier choice. If someone told me to my face 'Adam I think you are the ugliest thing on Earth' I'd have more respect for them than if they sat up in my face lying and telling me how cute they think I am. I don't why they stopped calling and at this point I don't care. It is what it is.

The bright side to situations like this is that they tend to make for good blog posts. Being a blogger I tend to think of my life and it's misadventures in terms of blog posts. Something happens and I'm thinking 'this would make for a good blog post' or 'how do I present this situation in a way that makes for an interesting read?' or 'what am I gonna have Playing In The Background... when I write about this?' I'm not sure how healthy that is, but what's tragedy good for if you can't exploit it for your professional benefit? Ask any of our favorite singers, songwriters, poets and writers that question. What has driven a good portion of the most prolific music, art and books of our generation? Pain.

Speaking of pain, rather than wallow in all of this and fall into my rut of emotional eating and beating myself up asking why, as of late I've taken all of that energy and have used it in a much more beneficial way. I've been hitting the gym pretty hard lately. As soon as my mind started to drift into why the second boy hadn't called yesterday I jumped up, put on my sweats and sneakers and headed right to the gym.

Turning 25 has really had an impact on me. I'm not a kid anymore and my metabolism ain't gettin' no better. As I get older I'm realizing that it's gonna take a little effort to stay in shape. It seems like everywhere I look, especially in the New York gay scene filled to the brim with aspiring actor/model types, everyone around me has pecs and abs and what not, especially these kids coming up, the eighteen and nineteen year olds. What the hell are these kids eating nowadays and why didn't anyone feed it to me?

After slightly letting myself go this past summer I begun to look at my body and myself differently. Seeing Madonna, a white woman literally twice my age and five years younger than my mother dance, sing and jump rope across the stage of the Izod Center earlier this month, doing more physically than I could ever dream of without as much as taking a breather, really put things in perspective for me. One of my secret dreams has always been to have the quote-unquote "perfect" body. Perfect for me at least, as perfect is relative. I never wanted to be one of those big muscley guys (I never liked big muscles and yes I made that word up). I've always fancied leaner, more cut up and defined body types. As of late I've been working toward that and it's been working. As always I wanted to share my fortune with you so I decided to post what I call:

Adam's Lazy Man's Guide To Fitness

On average I've been going to gym about five to six times a week lately. Now I'm not one of those people who is just loves to work out and loves the gym. I'd much rather be home watching "90210" eating apple pie and ice cream. I'm no gym rat and Lord knows that with working out there is pain, not horrible gut wrenching pain but pain nevertheless, well actually it's more discomfort than anything else, but as I've started to see results I've learned to appreciate the pain and it becomes worth it. As horrible as going to the gym regularly sounds for a lazy person like me, the more I incorporated it into my regular life I've come to realize that it's not so bad, but this isn't an easy place to get to. I realize that I'm no fitness expert or guru but these are the steps I took to get there. Hopefully I can help out a fellow lazy person.

1. Understand what working out is, what it does and why it does what it does.
2. Make going to the gym as easy and as not a big deal as possible.
3. The only thing we have to fear is fat itself.
4. Understand that "A shitty workout is better than no workout at all."
5. Understand that one of the best things about working out is that it counteracts all of the horrible foods you eat and will make you able to eat them with less consequence.
6. Align yourself with one of those crazy people that actually enjoys working out.

1. Understand what working out is, what it does and why it does what it does.

I've never been one of those "because I said so" people. Whenever one of my parents or someone older than me uttered that inevitable phrase during my childhood as reasoning for me to do something they commanded that I do it often fell upon deaf ears and subsequently a sore behind, but I didn't care. I'm not the type to do shit just to do it, I gotta know why I'm doing it. This carried over to my adulthood. While we know that working out and weightlifting builds muscle and gets people into shape many of don't know why, well at least I didn't. When this was finally broken down to me in a simple yet still cerebral way it all made sense and thus made working out something of interest.

This is how it was broken down to me. Working out basically works like this. To lift weights the body uses its various muscles. When we lift just the right amount of weight that pushes those muscles to their limit, they tear, hence the pain/discomfort/fatigue of working out. When those muscles tear the body naturally rebuilds them, but when the body rebuilds them it rebuilds them bigger and stronger. So if you continually increase the amount the weight you lift over time you continue the process of ripping, tearing and rebuilding the muscles of your body, hence the terms bodybuilding and ripped. Once you're satisfied with your size you won't need to increase the weight you lift. Protein in your diet helps a lot in this process, hence why people who work out are always drinking those nasty-ass protein shake things. For me understanding why and how this whole thing works made it more desirable to do and gave me some kind of direction to go in as far as all this fitness stuff is concerned.

2. Make going to the gym as easy and as not a big deal as possible.

Out of all the rules this is probably the most important for lazy people like us. If working out becomes to complicated we aren't gonna do it. In order to combat the arsenal of excuses I've built up for not going to the gym I've made going to the gym as easy as possible. I joined a gym six blocks from my house. In the past I'd joined gyms that were further away and as a result I found myself not going and the key to the whole gym thing is to go as much as possible. If you can drag your ass there more than likely you'll do something. Just getting to the gym is half the battle.

3. The only thing we have to fear is fat itself.

The gym can be a scary place. It can be pretty overwhelming for a beginner. All those muscular people banging and clanging weights doing all kinds of different exercises on different machines, levers and pulleys moving about as you wonder what its all for. Most gyms offer some kind of personal training assistance for beginners. It's not Hollywood celebrity caliber but it's cool to have to someone show you how all the machines work. Pay attention because when the introductory period of maybe a 45-60 minute session or two is over you're on your own, unless you decide to buy more sessions and that can get really expensive. Plus it's not really all that necessary.

In the beginning don't expect to be "He-Man" or anything, more than likely your lazy ass won't be able to lift as much as the gym regulars. My tip for beginners is to use the machines instead of free weights and be sure to read the directions on them before attempting them, also watch other people use them before you try them out. Your first trial on or with anything should be on the lowest possible weight setting just so you can get the movement together. After that find a weight that's mildly uncomfortable but that you can still move. You're just starting out so don't set crazy unrealistic goals for yourself. Pick a weight that you can move 10-12 times. The last few repetitions should be a little but not too difficult, you should feel them. Do the normal 3 or 4 sets of 10-12 repetitions with a short rest between sets. If you can't finish all the sets and reps just do it until you're tired, don't push so hard at first the point is to get yourself used to the whole gym-going life.

A lot of people, mainly men are intimidated by the gym as beginners. Lord knows I was. Here you go in your regular life smart as hell, shitting on those whose mental prowess is inferior to yours or maybe you're smooth, Mr. Man, Mr. Cool, with your big ol' dick, and/or your pretty face, Mr. Ladies Man or Mr. Mans Man (depending on whichever way you swing) or maybe you're rich and powerful, with hundreds of corporate minions trembling at every syllable that escapes your lips, well none of that shit matters at the gym. All of your status symbols, titles, bank accounts and all that other shit is checked at the door. The gym is all about physical strength and everybody has to start at the bottom.

It can be quite embarrassing not being able to lift weights as heavy as all the musclebound dudes around you. If you see five guys bench pressing two and three forty-five pound plates on each side you will probably feel a little foolish lifting the bar. Which for a lot of people can bring back terrible repressed memories of high school weight room. The easiest way to combat this is to start out using the machines. In most gyms the bench presses and dumbbells and other free weight activities that the bigger and more experienced people use are usually separated from the workout machines that smaller more inexperienced people tend to use. In my gym I'm lucky enough to have the free weights and the machines on separate floors, downstairs and upstairs respectively.

The cool thing about machines as opposed to free weights is that the machines do a good portion of the work for you, not so much of the lifting but of controlling the weight. When you bench press or do dumbbell curls not only are you lifting the weight but you have to use your strength to control the weight as well. Machines do the control part for you, which takes great stress off of the beginner. Losing control of a weight while lifting can cause great injury. The absolute best thing about machines though is that most of them are constructed so that no one can really see how much you're lifting. It's a great way to build yourself up so that when you do graduate to using free weights like I have you will be strong enough to not have to start out with the bar.

Now of course we all know that it shouldn't matter what people think about how much we can lift. And we should all be able to lift that bare bar with pride without our insecurities getting the best of us. A wise and strong man once advised me not to care about what people may think about how much or how little I can lift. That I should concentrate on me and what I need to do, fuck everybody else. Everybody, even the big and muscley guys had to start somewhere. The thing to fear is not the stares and snickers of the muscley guys, but the effect that fat, fast foods and the sedentary lifestyle of most Americans will have on our health. All of our insecurities won't matter once we're morbidly obese or once our arteries are clogged with fat and we have a heart attack. The only thing to fear is fat itself.

4. Understand that "A shitty workout is better than no workout at all."

Unlike like damn near everything else in life I see the gym as a quantity over quality thing. Don't not go to the gym because you feel as though you don't have enough time to devote to it. I say all you really need at the absolute least is a half hour a day. I'm way too lazy and too busy to spend three and four hours a day at the gym and besides after an hour to an a hour and a half I start getting bored anyway.

A wise man once told me that "a shitty work out is better than no work out at all". Many times I find myself getting to the gym an hour or even as little as forty minutes before it closes and although I don't have much time to spend there I still go as I don't wanna get out of the habit of going. Even if I'm kinda tired or really don't feel like going I still muster up the strength to go. I just probably won't work as hard but so what. I don't beat myself up over it. The key is to make the gym like eating and sleeping, a regular part of your daily life.

5. Understand that one of the best things about working out is that it counteracts all of the horrible foods you eat and will make you able to eat them with less consequence.

The coolest thing about going to the gym is that you feel a little better when you eat all the junk foods you like because you know that you are gonna eventually work them off (as long as you don't start eating more junk food because you started working out), but what's even cooler is that when you really start getting into the workout groove you'll want to eat better because you know that it will accelerate the results that you are seeing. So basically you're psyching yourself out, but instead of psyching yourself into thinking that Mr. Whatshisname is really gonna call or that some fake-ass bitches who aren't worth your time anyway really do like you, this psyching out is gonna actually do you some good.

6. Align yourself with one of those crazy people that actually enjoys working out.

You see those crazy-ass people at the gym, the ones that seem to be enjoying themselves, lifting those weights, all muscley and chiseled. These muscle people, although they are a different species from lazy folk like you and me do live outside the gym. It would do you some good to get to know one of them and even start working out with one of them as it'd be quite encouraging to you. I wouldn't advise that you start making conversation with random muscley strangers at the gym (although it wouldn't be terrible or anything), but rather think of people you know who work out regularly. C'mon you gotta know somebody, and if you're gay you have no excuse. Find that person and tag along with them to the gym.

I've aligned myself with a friend of my friend who lives down the street from me and works out at my gym. Not only does he work out regularly at my gym, he works out with his lover regularly at my gym. They are both "He-Men" who live together, are in a long-term relationship and are very much in love. It's a great thing to see. So not only do they encourage me to stay fit, their example encourages me that true love and finding the one (or at least the one you can learn to tolerate for the long haul) is possible.

Although I don't work out with them everyday, because I'm not trying to impede upon their couple, bonding workout time (I have better manners than that). I have taken what they've taught me and have applied it to my workout routine.

So, relax, follow these rules and working out shouldn't be so bad.

==========
Playing In The Background...
"The Workout"
by Utada
from the album "Exodus"
==========

==========
Don't you just love it when you hear a song that summarizes your life and exactly what you're going through at that moment. I was on the train the other day and this song came on my iPod and I almost busted out laughing. I always loved this song (and Christina Milian I'm a huge fan of her and her beautiful self), but now it carries with it an even greater meaning. Christina, how'd you know?

Play this as you read this blog post:
Christina Milian
"Foolin'"

==========

Hey everybody,

It's been forty-one days and forty-one nights since the last time we talked, sure I've written about some stuff, answered some questions and have even given some advice but it's been a while, forty-one days to be exact, since we talked expressly and specifically about me. For anyone who hasn't read the last "Life Update" post, click here to check it out and catch up before you continue.

When we last left off I was depressed, recovering from the embarrassment of having a not-so-great turnout at that "No Shade" party thing I was involved in planning back in August and I had finally put my foot down regarding breaking things off with Pubby and had taken the drastic measure of changing my phone number to ensure that I wouldn't go back on my word.

The day I posted that last "Life Update" post, September 1st, Pubby called me, we talked for a while and I told him that I was changing my phone number and that I was not giving it to him and that I didn't wish to speak to him any longer, that I was tired of him using me, loving me in private and not in public, it hurt way too much. I was tired of being played and tired of the back and forth. I was tired of loving someone who didn't love me the same way. We ended our phone conversation awkwardly. Once the blog post I wrote about it was published he replied to it, it shocked me to see his name in my email box as he'd never replied to any of my blog posts before. But as he said in the letter he only replied to my blog post because that was the only way he could contact me. I read his letter and it was more of the same ol' thing, more of him turning things around and not taking any responsibility for his part in anything, as usual, like I'm crazy. I read it two more times and I deleted it. I deleted it from my email box. I deleted it from my phone. I deleted it from the server. I deleted it from my life. As much as it bothered me to do it I let him have the last word. We haven't communicated since. It's really over.

Many of you criticized me for doing something as drastic as changing my phone number to solidify a breakup, saying that I was only running away from my problems. With all the love in my heart I must say, no offense, but fuck you all, ye naysayers. Changing my phone number was the best motherfuckin' thing I've done in a long time. As the weeks rolled by, the act of changing my phone number became less of necessity and more of a symbol, a symbol of my strength, strength to admit that I was weak and needed a change. If I were as strong then as I am now I could have kept my perfect phone number the way it was, but I wasn't. Sometimes when you're not strong enough to walk away from something you've gotta run away, hence the change of phone number. In the past I've compared my relationship with Pubby to a drug addiction and when you wanna get over a drug addiction you go to rehab. When Britney and Lindsay and all the pop tartlets we know and love go to rehab they it's always located far away from the drug-ridden clubs of LA and New York because there's no way you're gonna get off drugs if you're around the shit all the time. That's why most rehab centers are in Idaho and Utah and other middle-of-nowhere, out-of-the-way places. No matter what anybody says, you are responsible for your happiness and your sanity. Do whatever you must do to maintain it and if people can't understand it, fuck 'em, with all the love in your heart. (LOL)

The more I took the focus off of Pubby and myself with him and onto me, I realized that I didn't want to call him and I was glad that he couldn't call me. Yeah, we could have emailed each other, but I didn't and he didn't. What I did was the best thing for me, I deserve to be happy, I deserve someone who is absolutely nuts about me the way I was for him and in a secondary way what I did was the best thing for him too, with me out of the picture he could stop using me as a crutch and focus on the person he's with. There's no hard feelings and I wish him all the best. PRAISE THE LORD, it's really over, no more "Foolin'" for me. I'm free, thank you Jesus.

In other news I'm very proud of myself because I've really gotten up on my exercise game. I've been in the gym at least four to five times a week for the past few weeks in preparation for the fall photo shoot I'm planning and because it's just good for me. It's about time I change the face of the blog again. I'm officially 25 so it's time to put all the silver shit away now. Look for a new photo shoot and a blog redesign in the next couple of weeks.

As far as my book is concerned it's in the research and development stage. I want to thank everyone for all of the numerous inquiries about the status of the book. It's coming, but I'm definitely not trying to rush it. As I've said many times before my life is a constant fight, a struggle against mediocrity and I refuse to put out just any ol' mediocre-ass book. So many books get published every day and slide right under the radar. I definitely don't want that for my book, but to answer your questions again, it's coming along. A special thanks to James Earl Hardy for all of his support and advice regarding my first book.

There are also other HUGE developments underway that I can't even speak on as of yet and I'm SO excited about them.

I wanna thank you all for your thoughts and prayers and encouragement and emails and MySpace and Facebook messages. I get them all I read them all and they encourage me sooooooo much, more than you probably realize. ((MUAH))

==========
Playing In The Background...
"Foolin'"
by Christina Milian
from the album "So Amazin"
and
"So What"
by Pink
from the album "Funhouse"
==========

==========
I'm reposting this one because it's one of my absolute favorites and it came to my mind because I'm on my way out to the barber shop to see my fine ass barber right now.

Enjoy.

Originally posted on September 5, 2007 7:14 PM
==========

Ahhh yes, the barber shop. "The Black Man's Country Club," as a black man the barber shop has been a part of my life as long as I can remember. I remember hating it as a child though. Every other Saturday my mother would give my oldest sister money to take me to the barber shop. She would take me to her friend's barber shop to get my hair cut. And of course her friend was the most popular barber in the shop and of course everyone wanted to go to him to get their hair cut and of course it would take all day long. She would make me wait, and wait, and wait for him even as other barbers anxiously stood around with empty chairs. I hated the barber shop so much that I grew a high top for a few years as a child, but even that you have to fade and shape up. The end of the haircut though was always the worst. That spray with the minty green alcohol would sting so much. What the hell did they used to cut my hair with, a rusty meat cleaver?

In my preteen years I changed barbers and started going to the barbershop by myself. I wouldn't have to wait for my sister's barber friend anymore. I could choose any barber I wanted, whoever's chair was free. I was in and I was out. That's until the first time I got "zeeked". Getting zeeked is getting a fucked up haircut. There was nothing you could do to reverse a zeeking, once it's done, it's done. Your only choices were to go bald or stay indoors until your hair grows back right. I got zeeked by this drunken, yellow-eyed barber (didn't realize that at the time) once when I was 13. He cut my hair way too low and I hadn't fully grown into my head yet, and having hair on my head had caused the top of my head not to tan the color as the rest of my face. I looked crazy. When I looked in that mirror and saw my head I wanted to kill him. As a remedy to the situation I went home and pretended to be sick for a whole week until my hair started to grow back. I could not let the whole eighth grade see me looking like that. To this day my mother doesn't even know I was faking that whole thing.

But when I grew into my teen years and now into my adult years started to became more of a pleasure than a mere necessity. Besides the obvious feeling of wanting to look good. I started getting into how sexy some of these barbers are. The barber shop, like most things can be so homo-erotic. Get into it. There's me, the customer in the big leather chair and my sexy ass barber giving dap to his last customer. He flashes his million dollar smile at me and asks "What do you want?" If he only knew what I really wanted, too bad all these other people are around.

I look ahead and see him in the mirror as he walks up behind me to unfurl the black nylon barber cape that he fastens around my neck ever so gently, his every touch sending electricity to the nether regions of my body. I catch a glimpse of his ass as he turns around and begins to fiddle with his barber's instruments. He stands in front of me at 1:30 and then 10:30, his body slightly leaned over cutting my hair down. The light scent of his cologne is intoxicating as I watch my hair drop to the floor. I close my eyes as he slightly brushes his fingers against my face and I let the hum of his clippers relax me.

He stops, switches clippers and steps to me, the closest he's been to my face yet. His left hand lightly lifting my chin as he lines me up. I look at his face, my eyes tracing his strong masculine features and jawline, then I look to the right at the glass cookie jar filled with condoms and lube packets, then down to the left at the bulge in his jeans, then back up into his beautiful brown eyes that hypnotize me, up to his perfectly edged up hairline and back down to his juicy pink with lips with that thin mustache that rides them so perfectly. I want to kiss him so bad I could taste it. If he could only see how hard I am under this cape. If only he knew how badly I wanted him to rip this cape off me and ride me until we both climax.

He pulls back from me, lightly places his hand over my eyes and sprays three strong misty puffs of green alcohol over my head, then he removes my cape and lets me get a once over in the hand mirror. Alas, my haircut is over and I didn't even get to cum. That stings more than the alcohol. I come back down to reality and see all the pictures that line his barber's station. I forgot, he's straight. I conveniently forget that every week I come in.

I look good though, as usual he did a good job and I give him a good tip, not the tip I would have to have given him though if the situation were different. But it's worth it, anything to see him flash that smile at me again. Now I have to find a way to hide this erection I've got and not make eye contact with anyone as I leave the barbershop. I'll be back next week though.

==========
Playing In The Background...
"Dirty Mind"
by Prince
from the album "Dirty Mind"
==========

Believe it or not, there are people out there who don't like me. I know, it's crazy right? I've always felt like I'm a pretty likable guy. I've always felt as though if someone didn't like me it's their issue because I try to be the nicest person I can. I pretty much still hold on to that. Regardless of my theory though, there are five people in this city who I know don't like me. And I mean yeah, I have a whole slew of haters, but these five people actually know me, at least kinda sorta, at least they've had interactions with me. Haters and other people who don't know me and don't like me for no reason, they just simply don't matter.

Anyway, like I was saying, there are five people in this city who I know don't like me in varying degrees and for various reasons, but at the end of the day they just aren't feeling the kid. I'm not losing any major sleep over it, but I would be lying if I said that it didn't bother me just a little, especially because some of it is my fault.

So, the First Person who doesn't like me, well he has good reason. We kinda used to be friends, casually though, we even messed around once. Well, I flirted with his boyfriend, it was after they broke up, but still it was wrong. That was my bad. I apologized and everything. It wasn't as heartfelt as it should have been but it was an apology nevertheless. I've seen First Person since the incident and we spoke. I mean it has been a long while, but we're far from cool.

The Second Person who doesn't like me doesn't like me because he got into it with one of my good friends. After a while that all subsided and we would speak when we saw each other, but since then he's gotten really friendly with First Person and as of late isn't speaking to me again. This usually wouldn't bother me as I wouldn't even know that Second Person even existed except for the fact that back when things were good Second Person was at my house once visiting me along with my good friend, so we've met previously and on top of that Second Person works at a neighborhood business that I frequent. So I see him at least a few times a week, but we still don't speak.

The Third Person who doesn't like me is someone who I hooked up with two years ago who's mad at me because on that night I mentioned, when my good friend came to my house with Second Person I mentioned casually that Third Person and I messed around. I figured that it was no big deal and we that we're all adults here. In all actuality I was really talking to my good friend, but Second Person happened to overhear. Little did I know Second Person knew Third Person's boyfriend and told him and everyone else who'd listen about it. Yeah, Third Person had a boyfriend, he didn't mention that on the night he came by at three in the morning. All this talk got back to Third Person and he figured that I was out there trying to brag about having had him when it wasn't even like that. He started popping shit with me over the internet talking about how he wanted to fight me. I told him to bring his ass over, he knew the address, it was the same one he came to when he came looking for dick at 3am. He still never showed up. I saw him last week, the first time I'd seen him since this all went down, we didn't speak.

The Fourth Person who doesn't like me, doesn't like me but I'm really not sure why. We met online last year and I thought he was really attractive. He came over and we talked, nothing happened between us and he left. While Fourth Person was over we talked and discovered that we worked in the same industry and he was told me that he needed a job. I gave him the info for my job (which I never do) and told him to pursue it and not to mention that he knew me (because if they knew that he knew me they probably wouldn't hire hi ). That was the last time I heard from him, he stopped calling me. One day I'm at work, I look up and there he is, Fourth Person, he got the job. It wasn't my job though, it was a position lower than mine. Even with that I didn't give him too much attention though because hey, he stopped calling me. I'm not gonna jock him like that, it's not that serious. A week later I got an email saying that he got fired. I kinda wanted to know what happened. My curiosity getting the better of me, I'd hit him up online intermittently, saying hey, even going as far enough to assure him that I was not trying to pick him up. Still no response. One day I was chilling at my friend's house, he came by he saw me there, we spoke and then he left suddenly. I won't be conceited enough to say that I was the reason why he left but I can't help but wonder. I saw him last week as well and we didn't speak. He can't possibly think I had something to do with him being fired, can he?

The Fifth Person who doesn't like me, doesn't like me in a way a little different from the first four. Fifth Person doesn't like me, like me, like romantically. The first time I saw Fifth Person I saw him at his job, I figured that he got down (was gay) and my feelings were confirmed after seeing him around at parties and in the gay-borhoods of the city. For whatever reason I never walked up and talked to him before. I ain't gon' lie, I get nervous trying to approach guys I like, you wouldn't know though, but even with that, the opportunity never really presented itself. One day I saw him online so I sent him a message. I sent it and he never replied back. I checked the message and he opened it. Damn. On another occasion I sent him a message again. I even told him that I'd developed a little crush on him (yeah, I know, that shit was extra), again same result. He's fine, but he's just not feeling me. I know the cardinal online rule, I'm a proponent of it. You send a message, you wait a while, they're still online and you know they opened it, no reply back, they're not interested. The there's no point in being a stalker and making yourself look crazy. It's just that, as fucked up as it sounds, me saying this about myself but, I'm not used to this kinda thing, rejection from somebody I kinda got into like that. Guys I like don't usually reject me, at least not lately, within the past year or so. A part of me wondered, why is he not feeling me? I don't get it. Oh well, I shook the dust from my feet and moved on. His loss.

It's crazy but, as much I'd like to walk up to each one of these five people, stretch out my hand and proceed to talk and mend fences with them I wonder, how realistic is that? Peace talks happen between two parties, but the two parties have to be willing to talk and settle their differences and be cool. Like I said before, I don't lose much sleep over those who don't like me but if I had my way I'd like for us to all be okay. But considering that there are only five people in the world I can think of who are not okay with me, mostly for dumb ass reasons, I'm a really fortunate guy, believe it or not.

==========
Playing In The Background...
"Womanizer"
by Britney Spears
from the album "Circus"
==========