As I devote more and more time to ancillary projects, this blog has fallen a bit to the wayside, but will stay up for as long as I can maintain the hosting.
Now that I have a platform at Huffington Post, I’m tempted to devote my fun posts to Arianna’s fab group blog. I'm glad to contribute a gay voice to the bunch.
I'm going to be blogging at alexgeana.com, my pro site, because I can have a varied platform, as I have more projects to content to. I'm going to focus strongly on things that are interesting to me, not necessarily in the mass-over-use-of-pointless-topics kind of way, yet write about stuff that influences my work as a writer, I have a full range of interests beyond dating.
Charting the course and progress of this blog has been amazing and has truly helped me craft and hone my writerly voice, to cut my teeth and force me to produce usable work. I think every writer needs to blog, it helps the words come smoothly and makes it easier to find inspiration for larger and more powerful topics.
That said, thank you for being on this wonderful journey with me. I know over the months as I've been to overwhelmed to write new things, I've lost many long time readers, so really this post is for the blogging universe, a virtual thank you for helping me understand a new dimension to creating work and being able to find my own baring.
I just finished a novel and will work on getting that published, I'll begin work on a new play shortly.
Thanks for reading.
AG
Okay, all this hard work has paid off. The cast is great, I'm really excited about the performers and what they've come up with. We've come a long way since the staged reading.
That said. Buy tickets people. Come see a show in Midtown. Go to Three Tables and buy tickets.
The Opening Night Party
Effen Vodka is sponsoring our vodka open bar, Martinis for all. Because of the early sell out. Everyone can come and you can even invite friends that aren't going to the show. Drink people drink. We want a great crowd, and great energy in a very cool bar. Join us.
November 3rd
Upstairs at the Ritz
369 46th Street
btw 8th and 9th.
The Opening Night Party is made possible by the generocity of Tommy Greco the owner of The Ritz.
More Gay Dates will be coming to you at the end of November.
Save the date peeps. I'm happy to announce the opening of Tommy's bar The Ritz. It'll open Friday the 22nd.
The Ritz
46th Street
btw 8th and 9th.
I'll have a moment to take pictures this weekend, I'm quite excited. Let's see what it looks like. Keep up with One Gay Date at a Time to find out about the opening.
Send the info to your friends.
In the mean time I need an intern. I've been going nuts. Three Tables is in production. It's been going great ... my job, is of course omnipresent. I've also picked up a new blog client. So that said, this blog has been left by the way side just a bit.
I'm looking forward to inviting everyone to the show. It's been coming along swimmingly, yet ever so stressfully.
We're also working on the site for the show, it's still being built but you can check it out. Three Tables
Recently, as cycles continue, an ex-boyfriend has moved to my area, we've been bumping into each other on the train or when we're out drinking. He also broke up with his most recent fling.
I have to admit to still having a crush on him, he has given me some very fond memories. He broke up with me, because he was new to the city and wanted to experience the wide world of New York men, then I fell into an odd little relationship. He came after me with much force and hotness. Yet because of my unfounded loyalty for a new relationship, I said I couldn't hook up with him.
It's true that men go after the unavailable. Now I sort of want him, I'm clueless how to go about it. I've text messaged him, he responded of sorts, I haven't called. A bit too shy actually. It's as if the gay gods are putting us in each others orbit - but just being shy about putting us together. I've been thinking a lot about his smile during these odd dates. I love the way his face lights up. Yes I'm being mushy, yet I'm sort of shy about picking up the phone and calling.
The one to two phone call rule applies to all dating scenarios. When we bump into each other we're always talking about hanging out. So yes I'm reluctant to call and I'm no good about being forceful. Hence the paradox of shyness.
I've been on ten dates without any good conversation. I'm sort of baffled, where has passion and good talking evaporated to.
First there was the 2 hour walk through central park where we talked about the weather. Simply talked about people on park benches and well, nothing. He told me nothing interesting about himself and I in turn tried to nudge the conversation to something a little more interesting, such as the color of socks in winter. Yes, I was truly trying for topics, because earlier in the two hour span of walking, I tried the then current war in the Middle East (I mean, war in Middle East now-a-days can mean anything and anywhere) yet I drew a blank stare. I gave up.
Then there was the blond hottie and cute cuddler, who just wanted to make out and chill, which was totally fun for a while. Then well, turned pointless.
After that came the video game addict.
But for some reason, all these 10 boys have all wanted to buy me something.
I also, like to ask people questions about who they are, what they do, how do they like they're jobs, maybe find some sort of connection. Any connections to actually, find out if I like the guy. During this 10 date process, most of my questions were greeted by one word answers, i.e.
I ask: "what do you do?"
Silence, birds chirp, I check out his cute little nose.
cute boy: "Accounting"
I think I hear siren, some
He stares forward, I sigh a little - shake my head, smile
He looks at something in the distance
I ask again: "How do you like it."
Cute boy buys me lollipop
I think I need to stop dating, just drinking. Or maybe I should attend a poetry reading. Hold on, only dirty old men that sleep next to their gin martinis go to that.
I don't know if I'm just melancholy and my depression has once again reared it oblong face, or it's the weather. I think it's mostly the weather that's made me poopy and somewhat drowsy constantly.
I've been feeling like a wet puppy recently, the spurts of rain, me forgetting my umbrella ... all these things. Then again, being overworked hasn't helped, I have stress, lots of it. I have so much stress, I havn't wanted to move or work, just sleep. Watch TV and randomly surf the web. It's like my thoughts have feed into themselves and won't let me go. Churning at night, not allowing me to sleep. Simple things, like finding a director for my play and how to write about arts and crafts have been consuming my unslept moments.
I actually had a massive pissing contest with someone. I finally stood up for myself. Someone who shall remain forever nameless in the blogoshpere was trying to couch me on how I should write, without ever having read my work. I found that to be the poorest of form.
Then I'm left to read fiction in the New Yorker, it seems like they have been publishing work about family, rape, incest, or cell phone family plans. I'm thinking of writing something that drones on and on and gets nowhere quickly, just like this blog post, then submitting it to the New Yorker, yes that is my new master plan to achieve accepted writer status. After reading their fiction I went on to read the five hundredth mention of a young writer who was published in aforementioned magazine to be offered a $500,000 dollar book deal, they went on to write about incest and drug addiction. So the cycle continues.
I need to get out more. I really do, I'm blaming this all on the weather.