My milkshake...

Since the break up, I keep telling myself that I need to put myself out there in an effort to move on. But this past weekend shall go down in history as one of the best observational studies I have ever personally conducted to serve as a testament to the challenge that I now face.

Friday
I had dinner with Gianni (formerly known as Carl), Donatella and friends of Donatella at the Landmark Diner after the Vibe Awards (a HOT mess!). Donatella and I go to the bar to smoke and converse. She tells me how she was going to get one of her friends (who we left seated at the table) to buy her some Ferragamo but she has decided against it because she is deciding to seriously commit herself to her boyfriend in Toronto. I puff...exhale...and puff again as she goes on about how she needs to stop gold digging. I keep my comments neutral as I listen to her lament. I wonder why she feels that she HAS to get as much as she can from men? I then ask her what are the guys' expectations from her. She SWEARS that she isn't sleeping with them. Okay...

The friends were dismissed and myself, Gianni, and Donatella ended up at Halo and then to Club Colours. All the while, I began to understand much more readily Gianni (who happens to be one of my best friends) and Donatella's relationship. They have this warped dependence on men/boyfriends that I haven't figured out. I'm realizing that it is okay to be in a relationship wherein one person is more of a provider of sorts. (I guess!?!) But Gianni and Donatella...they have significant others who are providers yet they are still seeking "things" outside of the relationship. I can't handle the "get what you can get" mentality. However as an aside, I have my own issues with this topic and gay men. I think each man should be independently living or atleast have the ability to be independent within the relationship. In other words, HAVE YOUR OWN SHIT! I have problems with the idea that one man is looking for another man to take care of him. And I later try to explain to Donatella that there is an entirely different dynamic and expectation that exists in gay relationships...while some men do exactly what she is doing, others do not. And in my experience, that type of role playing isn't what is necessarily expected. Then we party hardy...run into other friends at the club...but I meet no dates.

Saturday
Went with Nicole to see My Boyfriend the Stripper. It was surprisingly lighthearted and comical. There was only one black actor (unless you count Matthew Rush who I don't think identifies as such). And the one black character had to be a tired hypocritical academician who fucks the young white boys he teaches. That left me disgruntled...but I laughed anyway.

I then met up with Gianni for a fashion show at the Biltmore. There we watched another friend, Maxwell, walk the show. I thought that this would provide the perfect opportunity to mingle since the Beautiful Ones were out. But my Gaydar was just not in good condition at this point. What is with this Metrosexual bullshit!? Every goodlooking, polished, stylish, sexy brother that seemed to reak GAY...later turned out to be questionably straight at the end of the night when the question was posed to friends and associates. What!?!

Myself, Gianni, Maxwell and two other friends then are invited to a houseparty whereby I vicariously learn that gay men can be so TIRED as it is discovered that two of the passengers in the car are sharing the same date while the entire caravan heads to this houseparty where, OF COURSE the guy in question is there waiting. Things are explained with an "it's a small world" philosophy. No hard feelings. I'm certain that all parties will continue to "date." I guess you might as well share a man in this day and age...

Most people from the party eventually filed out and went to the Brutha2Brutha party at Spice. As I look across the dancefloor I wonder how Atlanta can be home to so many black gay men... {My milkshake brings all the boyz to the yard...they're like its betta than yours...} And in between the boom of the 808 the thought was abruptly broken. One of the people that came out with the group is female and this guy is really "doing the most" to get her attention. She obliges with a dance. He is stuck to her like a bee to honey for the remainder of the night. Why!? Then I remember that this event is for "men in the life" and the life, I reckon, includes such intermixing. She tells me later how he adamantly proclaimed that he was a top and continued to describe "how he gets down." Funny!?

Sunday
I thought long and hard about Friday and Saturday. The pessimist in me sees all of the barriers that I face. I chill at home all day long. I only left the house to return a DVD to Blockbuster. I talk on the phone with friends and then fall asleep.

Today
Back at work...Thanksgiving potluck (I don't eat everybody's cooking!)...ate all of the "safe" foods. Office chatter: Micheal Jackson, Gay Marriage, Thanksgiving plans, blah blah blah...I close my eyes real tight and wish that I was a Hermit crab with a shell to retract into.