Today people found out whether or not they won a senior superlative (Best Smile, Most Attractive, Biggest Slut, etc). I was up for Most Artistic and the given, Best Dressed. Since Freshman year I've payed close attention to what I've worn, and I can honestly say I've never "scrubbed" to school or really anywhere for that matter. I don't even own sweatpants. I wear a tie everyday. I wear shoes a size to tight. I haven't worn blue jeans in about a year.
Well, I was voted Most Artistic, and that was nice because I didn't expect to actually get it. I didn't, however, win Best Dressed. I kind of figured I wouldn't though. I got the feeling that the Universe was planning some cosmic irony, and it's all kind of a popularity contest. While I'm a well known guy and well enough liked, I'm not really popular.
Oh well, I guess I'm not bothered really. As someone reminded me "We'll all know who the real best dressed is." Whateva, whateva. I guess I'll go get those sweatpants now... (No, no, no. Never. Ever.)
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Monday, February 15, 2010
I am Poor
Okay, I'm not poor. I'll explain in a bit.
Friday I didn't do much. I went to Steak N' Shake with Isabella, Melisse, Adam, and James. Jon, Brett, and this other kid named Josh came too and they were all high from pot brownies. So basically they acted ridiculous and we all ate. Then we all made plans to go to Jon's house, but I decided not to go. I've had a shit load of homework to do this week so I figured I'd probably better get it done over the weekend. And, Jon and his friends are kind of lame when they're high, so I told Adam this and to tell them I was busy and that I'd just see them later. When I got home I got a text from Adam that read:
Josh you were totally right. They being completely retarded right now and not the fun kind of retarded.
Josh is always right :)
Anyway, Saturday was much more exciting. Melisse and I were supposed to go to Boca with my friend Stephanie because she got invited to a party. To put it frankly (which I love doing) Stephanie is ghetto and Melisse and I are very much not. Regardless, I wanted very much to go to Stephanie's party. She told me at the last party she went to some guys were playing beer pong, and then a crew of guys came in, shoved everything off the table and started doing lines of coke. That's something that I feel I need to see. (For the record, I don't do/have never done drugs, nor have I ever drank or been drunk, or even smoked cigarettes) Melisse then informed me that we were invited to a party at our friend Kayleigh's house. So we decided to both.
We got to Kayleigh's and Melisse says to me: "I'm getting drunk. For real." She then proceeded to down in the course of the night two glasses of wine with orange juice, one glass of just wine, two bud lights, and then drank some wine out of the bottle. That's my girl.
Eventually we left Kayleigh's and went to go get Stephanie and meet up with her short friend Marco. Melisse, by this time drunk, declared "This is a midget's house!" upon entering his home. We then drove all the way to Boca to find out the party had been moved. Instead of trying to find out where it had been moved to we decided to just go back to Kayleigh's house.
We got back and Kayleigh was drunk off of her ass. She kept on falling over and screaming. So I kind of walked around taking care of her and Melisse (for example, having to fight a broom away from Kayleigh to sweep up glass from a bottle that Melisse broke), but I didn't really mind. I kept on trying to make sure Melisse would eat, but she refused to eat anything that wasn't healthy. When I tried to get her to eat pizza she said "I'm an ADULT! I don't eat pizza! ONLY HEALTHY FOOD!" so I had to give her carrots. I called Isabella and Adam and got them to come over.
When they arrived they looked at Melisse and Isabella asks "Is Melisse really drunk?" Melisse then proceeded to spit out carrots. By this time, I had also decided it was a good idea to put Kayleigh's weave on my scalp. I looked great, haha ;D. Eventually Melisse started spitting water on herself and went to sleep.
When Adam came over he awkwardly started chatting up this girl he likes, named Missy. She and Isabella convinced him to get drunk, which was fun because he never drinks. He got slightly tipsy. I made sure that Adam asked Missy to hang out with us tomorrow that way he could hang out with her on Valentine's Day.
Sunday, was Valentine's Day and Adam had made plans with Missy to hang out with us at the mall. So Adam texts everyone trying to get them to come to the mall but James and I were the only one's who showed up. So we went to go visit her at work, and convinced her to come hang out with us later.
Then James, Adam and I went to go get something to eat and James asked the question. Every gay guy, at some point, gets asked by his straight friends about their sex life, they're just always a little bit curious.
"Josh... this is gonna' sound really awkward..."
"I'm sure it won't."
"Um... so like are you a giver or a receiver?"
It was kind of cute I guess. Out of my friends I'm actually the only non-virgin, which is kind of cool, I guess? Maybe? I don't know, it doesn't really matter at all.
I ended up taking Melisse out to Falafel Bistro (a Mediterranean place), for dinner for Valentine's Day because we agreed to go on a date. She's an ADULT who only eats HEALTHY so instead of chocolate I brought her a fruit bowl and some bubbles. We had a nice dinner and I told her about all the funny stuff she did when she was drunk because she didn't remember any of it.
Today, I didn't have school because of President's Day. James invited us to go to his private beach resort in Boca (James is a millionaire) so Isabella, Adam, Melisse, and I all went with him. This is when I came to the realization that I am poor.
(Melisse and I, being poor).
It was a really, really, really nice beach resort. However, rich people who live on the beach tend to be fat and have leathery skin, so I guess I'd rather be attractive and young than rich? Eh. The resort had all sorts of things like little beach attendants, and $16 water and croquet and I don't even know.
When we decided to get lunch our bill was $130. That's ridiculous. The food, however, was delicious. We also noticed on the menu that there was ice cream worth $1000. Who pays $1000 for ice cream? Did I mention that the ice cream had on it edible 24kt gold leaf. Yes, apparently people who are rich enough actually eat gold. I, am poor.
All in all though, it was a really fun weekend and I hope next week turns out to be just as good. I'm sure this post is a mile long. Whateva, whateva.
Friday I didn't do much. I went to Steak N' Shake with Isabella, Melisse, Adam, and James. Jon, Brett, and this other kid named Josh came too and they were all high from pot brownies. So basically they acted ridiculous and we all ate. Then we all made plans to go to Jon's house, but I decided not to go. I've had a shit load of homework to do this week so I figured I'd probably better get it done over the weekend. And, Jon and his friends are kind of lame when they're high, so I told Adam this and to tell them I was busy and that I'd just see them later. When I got home I got a text from Adam that read:
Josh you were totally right. They being completely retarded right now and not the fun kind of retarded.
Josh is always right :)
Anyway, Saturday was much more exciting. Melisse and I were supposed to go to Boca with my friend Stephanie because she got invited to a party. To put it frankly (which I love doing) Stephanie is ghetto and Melisse and I are very much not. Regardless, I wanted very much to go to Stephanie's party. She told me at the last party she went to some guys were playing beer pong, and then a crew of guys came in, shoved everything off the table and started doing lines of coke. That's something that I feel I need to see. (For the record, I don't do/have never done drugs, nor have I ever drank or been drunk, or even smoked cigarettes) Melisse then informed me that we were invited to a party at our friend Kayleigh's house. So we decided to both.
We got to Kayleigh's and Melisse says to me: "I'm getting drunk. For real." She then proceeded to down in the course of the night two glasses of wine with orange juice, one glass of just wine, two bud lights, and then drank some wine out of the bottle. That's my girl.
Eventually we left Kayleigh's and went to go get Stephanie and meet up with her short friend Marco. Melisse, by this time drunk, declared "This is a midget's house!" upon entering his home. We then drove all the way to Boca to find out the party had been moved. Instead of trying to find out where it had been moved to we decided to just go back to Kayleigh's house.
We got back and Kayleigh was drunk off of her ass. She kept on falling over and screaming. So I kind of walked around taking care of her and Melisse (for example, having to fight a broom away from Kayleigh to sweep up glass from a bottle that Melisse broke), but I didn't really mind. I kept on trying to make sure Melisse would eat, but she refused to eat anything that wasn't healthy. When I tried to get her to eat pizza she said "I'm an ADULT! I don't eat pizza! ONLY HEALTHY FOOD!" so I had to give her carrots. I called Isabella and Adam and got them to come over.
When they arrived they looked at Melisse and Isabella asks "Is Melisse really drunk?" Melisse then proceeded to spit out carrots. By this time, I had also decided it was a good idea to put Kayleigh's weave on my scalp. I looked great, haha ;D. Eventually Melisse started spitting water on herself and went to sleep.
When Adam came over he awkwardly started chatting up this girl he likes, named Missy. She and Isabella convinced him to get drunk, which was fun because he never drinks. He got slightly tipsy. I made sure that Adam asked Missy to hang out with us tomorrow that way he could hang out with her on Valentine's Day.
Sunday, was Valentine's Day and Adam had made plans with Missy to hang out with us at the mall. So Adam texts everyone trying to get them to come to the mall but James and I were the only one's who showed up. So we went to go visit her at work, and convinced her to come hang out with us later.
Then James, Adam and I went to go get something to eat and James asked the question. Every gay guy, at some point, gets asked by his straight friends about their sex life, they're just always a little bit curious.
"Josh... this is gonna' sound really awkward..."
"I'm sure it won't."
"Um... so like are you a giver or a receiver?"
It was kind of cute I guess. Out of my friends I'm actually the only non-virgin, which is kind of cool, I guess? Maybe? I don't know, it doesn't really matter at all.
I ended up taking Melisse out to Falafel Bistro (a Mediterranean place), for dinner for Valentine's Day because we agreed to go on a date. She's an ADULT who only eats HEALTHY so instead of chocolate I brought her a fruit bowl and some bubbles. We had a nice dinner and I told her about all the funny stuff she did when she was drunk because she didn't remember any of it.
Today, I didn't have school because of President's Day. James invited us to go to his private beach resort in Boca (James is a millionaire) so Isabella, Adam, Melisse, and I all went with him. This is when I came to the realization that I am poor.
(Melisse and I, being poor).
It was a really, really, really nice beach resort. However, rich people who live on the beach tend to be fat and have leathery skin, so I guess I'd rather be attractive and young than rich? Eh. The resort had all sorts of things like little beach attendants, and $16 water and croquet and I don't even know.
When we decided to get lunch our bill was $130. That's ridiculous. The food, however, was delicious. We also noticed on the menu that there was ice cream worth $1000. Who pays $1000 for ice cream? Did I mention that the ice cream had on it edible 24kt gold leaf. Yes, apparently people who are rich enough actually eat gold. I, am poor.
All in all though, it was a really fun weekend and I hope next week turns out to be just as good. I'm sure this post is a mile long. Whateva, whateva.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
There is No Coming Out Story
Today, a kid in my school, who I'm kind of friends with, got kicked out of his house for being gay. He'd been outed by his brother to his parents, and they just aren't supportive. It reminded me a little bit of how I'd been outed to my parents. They never kicked me out but sometimes I wish they had.
I came to the conclusion that I was gay when I was twelve. I'd always known that I'd liked guys, and I knew that being gay meant you liked guys but I just never thought that I could be gay. Gay was a word that my friends and I used to describe things we didn't like, so in my little head I obviously couldn't be gay.
However, when I was twelve I put two and two together and came to the realization that I was gay. After a little while, I decided that I could tell my two best friends. I told them in school during one period. Well by the next period people were calling my gay and giving me strange looks. It turns out that one of my 'friends', Kyle, had taken the liberty of telling his whole class the next period.
Despite my attempt to fight the rumors, everybody knew anyway. Except for my family. Foolishly enough, I came out to my sister. Immediately she told my parents. Then I had to have a talk with them about how I couldn't be gay, and how it says in the bible that homosexuality isn't allowed. (My parents aren't religious. My mother is Jewish too. I don't know why they even brought it up). Then my brother over heard me talking to my then boyfriend a few weeks later and went and told my parents. And once again I had to have the same talk. After that my parents and I just fought for years and didn't get along. It was around these times that I began to with that they would just kick me out, or even hit me so that I could call Child Protective Services and get out of there. They were never, ever physically abusive and in their defense they didn't know how to deal with the situation, but the emotional toil they put me through was difficult, so much so that now I don't really have very many emotions today.
By the time I was fourteen I had come to terms with it, and by then I would tell most people that I was gay if I was comfortable enough, the exception being family members. However, around the time I started high school my family had become well enough acquainted with the idea. We don't talk about it, but instead of saying "when you get married to a girl," they say "when you get married to a person," which is progress I guess. My mother is the only one who's still rooting for team straight (she asks me if I get girls' numbers -__-). My brother is the only one who's outright said that I was gay, which I guess is pretty cool. And in terms of other people, everyone can figure that I'm gay. And if they can't I correct them.
When it comes down to it, I think my parents would rather I engage in multiple sex partners at once than be gay. I remember once, my friends Carla and Isabella were in my room with me, and my mother was coming in to ask Carla something. We heard whispering to my mother though, saying "Make sure you knock first, just in case."
Just in case what? Just in case I was having sex with both Carla and Isabella? So yeah, progress is a slow thing.
Anyway, the point of this was to say that I don't have a big coming out story. I know a lot of gay blogs have one, or are about guys in the closet or something of that sort; I don't have that to offer. There was never some great epiphanous moment where I told my parents and we hugged and they said they accept me blah, blah, blah. Maybe one day, but probably not.
In other, way, way, way terrible news Alexander McQueen died. He was a really esteemed and important British designer; one of my favorites. Here's a video of one of my favorite collections of all time:
R.I.P.
I came to the conclusion that I was gay when I was twelve. I'd always known that I'd liked guys, and I knew that being gay meant you liked guys but I just never thought that I could be gay. Gay was a word that my friends and I used to describe things we didn't like, so in my little head I obviously couldn't be gay.
However, when I was twelve I put two and two together and came to the realization that I was gay. After a little while, I decided that I could tell my two best friends. I told them in school during one period. Well by the next period people were calling my gay and giving me strange looks. It turns out that one of my 'friends', Kyle, had taken the liberty of telling his whole class the next period.
Despite my attempt to fight the rumors, everybody knew anyway. Except for my family. Foolishly enough, I came out to my sister. Immediately she told my parents. Then I had to have a talk with them about how I couldn't be gay, and how it says in the bible that homosexuality isn't allowed. (My parents aren't religious. My mother is Jewish too. I don't know why they even brought it up). Then my brother over heard me talking to my then boyfriend a few weeks later and went and told my parents. And once again I had to have the same talk. After that my parents and I just fought for years and didn't get along. It was around these times that I began to with that they would just kick me out, or even hit me so that I could call Child Protective Services and get out of there. They were never, ever physically abusive and in their defense they didn't know how to deal with the situation, but the emotional toil they put me through was difficult, so much so that now I don't really have very many emotions today.
By the time I was fourteen I had come to terms with it, and by then I would tell most people that I was gay if I was comfortable enough, the exception being family members. However, around the time I started high school my family had become well enough acquainted with the idea. We don't talk about it, but instead of saying "when you get married to a girl," they say "when you get married to a person," which is progress I guess. My mother is the only one who's still rooting for team straight (she asks me if I get girls' numbers -__-). My brother is the only one who's outright said that I was gay, which I guess is pretty cool. And in terms of other people, everyone can figure that I'm gay. And if they can't I correct them.
When it comes down to it, I think my parents would rather I engage in multiple sex partners at once than be gay. I remember once, my friends Carla and Isabella were in my room with me, and my mother was coming in to ask Carla something. We heard whispering to my mother though, saying "Make sure you knock first, just in case."
Just in case what? Just in case I was having sex with both Carla and Isabella? So yeah, progress is a slow thing.
Anyway, the point of this was to say that I don't have a big coming out story. I know a lot of gay blogs have one, or are about guys in the closet or something of that sort; I don't have that to offer. There was never some great epiphanous moment where I told my parents and we hugged and they said they accept me blah, blah, blah. Maybe one day, but probably not.
In other, way, way, way terrible news Alexander McQueen died. He was a really esteemed and important British designer; one of my favorites. Here's a video of one of my favorite collections of all time:
R.I.P.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
History.
I've always known I was adopted. From a very young age I could tell. My parents and my siblings are all in love with sports, I hate sports. I'm artistic, my family isn't. I can sign tolerably well, my family isn't allowed to sing 'Happy Birthday.' I'm also much smarter than my family.
Also, I'm black and they're white.
Well, actually, I'm half black and half white. What happened, is my parents had two children naturally, and then they wanted to adopt. That's where I came in:
My birth mother and birth father were having an adulterous affair, and then she got pregnant with me. She couldn't keep me because she already had four other sons (slut ;D), and he couldn't keep me because he didn't want his wife to know about the affair. So I was put on the market and I was adopted, and ever since one day old I've been living with the family I have now.
Perhaps it's possible that my status as an outsider stems from the fact that I've been different from my whole family at birth (obviously there are a few other things aside from the fact that I'm half black, and adopted that make me an outsider, but for now I'll stick to this topic).
My parents have no black friends, nor do my siblings. They're not obviously not against black people or anything, they just don't have any friends who aren't white. It's always amusing when I point this out to my parents, because they get really upset. I think that they try very hard to be socially acceptable.
I remember one time my mother was flipping through a magazine and she goes "Joshua, there are no black people in this magazine!" I hadn't noticed, but I guess there's some sort of buzzer in her head when the media doesn't represent the racial percentages of the country correctly. Who knows?
What's strange though, is that living my entire life around white people, I forget a lot of the time that I'm not white. For example, in my government class when I read about how different races vote and the different statistics, I always group myself with the white people, and have to go back and remind myself. It's not just me though, I've had whole conversations with people and then they stop and say "Oh! I just realized that you're black!"
In their defense I'm quite light skinned. People usually call me "mocha" or "cappuccino" or some other coffee flavor. I also don't act like the stereotypical black person; I'm kind of a grammar nazi and I don't do baggy clothes. Again, outsider.
Every now and then though, I wonder what it would be like to fit in, and be a normal guy... then I remember how perfect I am and make out with myself in the mirror. ;D
Also, I'm black and they're white.
Well, actually, I'm half black and half white. What happened, is my parents had two children naturally, and then they wanted to adopt. That's where I came in:
My birth mother and birth father were having an adulterous affair, and then she got pregnant with me. She couldn't keep me because she already had four other sons (slut ;D), and he couldn't keep me because he didn't want his wife to know about the affair. So I was put on the market and I was adopted, and ever since one day old I've been living with the family I have now.
Perhaps it's possible that my status as an outsider stems from the fact that I've been different from my whole family at birth (obviously there are a few other things aside from the fact that I'm half black, and adopted that make me an outsider, but for now I'll stick to this topic).
My parents have no black friends, nor do my siblings. They're not obviously not against black people or anything, they just don't have any friends who aren't white. It's always amusing when I point this out to my parents, because they get really upset. I think that they try very hard to be socially acceptable.
I remember one time my mother was flipping through a magazine and she goes "Joshua, there are no black people in this magazine!" I hadn't noticed, but I guess there's some sort of buzzer in her head when the media doesn't represent the racial percentages of the country correctly. Who knows?
What's strange though, is that living my entire life around white people, I forget a lot of the time that I'm not white. For example, in my government class when I read about how different races vote and the different statistics, I always group myself with the white people, and have to go back and remind myself. It's not just me though, I've had whole conversations with people and then they stop and say "Oh! I just realized that you're black!"
In their defense I'm quite light skinned. People usually call me "mocha" or "cappuccino" or some other coffee flavor. I also don't act like the stereotypical black person; I'm kind of a grammar nazi and I don't do baggy clothes. Again, outsider.
Every now and then though, I wonder what it would be like to fit in, and be a normal guy... then I remember how perfect I am and make out with myself in the mirror. ;D
Monday, February 1, 2010
Terrence
So I had a pretty good weekend, and a pretty good day today as well. I'll overview.
So Friday, we had a party in honor of my friend Terrence. There wasn't any special reason we were having a party for him, we just kind of felt like it. So we decided that we were all going to dress like him (we all wore sweater vests and glasses) and we all wore Yale stickers (because he got accepted to Yale, because he's a smart mother fucker.) We never ever get to hang out with Terrence on the weekends because he's busy saving the world ("Guys I can't come to the party I'm feeding the homeless today."), however he promised us he'd be at this party.
Of course, he didn't show up. It got to be around 11 at night, and we were tired of waiting and he wasn't answering his phone. So we drove to his neighborhood and looked around trying to find his house. Eventually we found his car and rang his doorbell. His mother called us h00dr4ts. Whateva.
On Saturday I went to an award show for that art competition I submitted to. I ended up winning gold on my portfolio, which is good because it puts me into the running for a scholarship. I was supposed to go to a party with my friend whose parents were out, but she canceled her party. Lame.
Sunday, I slept (almost)literally all day.
Today, was good, in that school was easy and it was just a nice normal day. Then I got home and in the mail I got two letters. One was from the UCF honors college saying that I'd been accepted. I didn't really care but it made my mom happy. Then I got a letter, stating I was a finalist in the National Achievement Scholarship, which means I get money from schools :D (Of course, Terrence also got this Scholarship). So, things turned out pretty well the past few days. Hopefully tomorrow works out too. :D
So Friday, we had a party in honor of my friend Terrence. There wasn't any special reason we were having a party for him, we just kind of felt like it. So we decided that we were all going to dress like him (we all wore sweater vests and glasses) and we all wore Yale stickers (because he got accepted to Yale, because he's a smart mother fucker.) We never ever get to hang out with Terrence on the weekends because he's busy saving the world ("Guys I can't come to the party I'm feeding the homeless today."), however he promised us he'd be at this party.
Of course, he didn't show up. It got to be around 11 at night, and we were tired of waiting and he wasn't answering his phone. So we drove to his neighborhood and looked around trying to find his house. Eventually we found his car and rang his doorbell. His mother called us h00dr4ts. Whateva.
On Saturday I went to an award show for that art competition I submitted to. I ended up winning gold on my portfolio, which is good because it puts me into the running for a scholarship. I was supposed to go to a party with my friend whose parents were out, but she canceled her party. Lame.
Sunday, I slept (almost)literally all day.
Today, was good, in that school was easy and it was just a nice normal day. Then I got home and in the mail I got two letters. One was from the UCF honors college saying that I'd been accepted. I didn't really care but it made my mom happy. Then I got a letter, stating I was a finalist in the National Achievement Scholarship, which means I get money from schools :D (Of course, Terrence also got this Scholarship). So, things turned out pretty well the past few days. Hopefully tomorrow works out too. :D
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