This is the one with a missed connection.

Do you know what Craigslist Missed Connections is?  If not, here’s a snarky explanation that makes you feel stupid for not knowing what it is:

Oh my god! You really don’t know what Missed Connections is?  Did you just get the Internet or something?  Don’t answer that. Anyway, Missed Connections is this page on Craigslist where people post stories about when they came across someone who they wanted to talk to but didn’t.  Just about everyone (well, except you) reads this page and looks for people who are looking for them.  Like, “Hey, I saw you in the grocery store buying melon and I totally thought you were hot.”  And then the hot melon buyer could respond and connect with someone they were too afraid of connecting with in real life.  Get it now??

So I received a message from a friend telling me that there was a Craigslist Missed Connection posting that was probably about me [link].  It says this:

Barista at Starbucks – m4m

This is the one that is deceiving.

I’ve got y’all fooled.

A couple of weeks ago someone I work with told me that she believed me to have a “crazy social life.”

Granted, this comment came after I told her about a night where I got crazy drunk…fell asleep at a guy’s house around 2:30am, took a taxi to my car at 5:00am, and made it to work by 6:00am.  But the truth is that I’m not a crazy partier.  Up until recently I’ve never even been in half of the gay bars in Phoenix.

And yesterday a different girl that I work with told me that I seemed like a guy that has “a million friends.”  And I just laughed.  I laughed because I’m not.

In the past five years I’ve put way too many of my friendship eggs in my boyfriend’s baskets.  Meaning when I was in my relationship with Mr. D, I should have developed friendships with coworkers and created my network of friends.  Instead I worked on building friendships with his friends…and I really miss seeing those people regularly now that we’ve split.

Then soon after Mr. D and I broke up I jumped into a relationship with Drew.  And I did the same stupid thing – developed friendships with people who I’d rarely see again after things with Drew didn’t work out.

I could count all of my good, local friends on one hand.

I’m not super-social.  In fact, I’m sitting in my bedroom now eating peanut butter out of the jar watching Dexter on Netflix. How does that image make me look?

I  need to work on creating and maintaining a good group of friends.  Sure, I might date a bit during this time…but my main focus in the next six months is to find some really good friendships.  Who’s in?

If I were a new year resolver, this could very easily be turned into a resolution.  But instead I’m just going to call this a “goal” for the new year.

This is the one where I come out to Joan.

About seven years ago (shit time flies!!) I started a job at a Club in California developing a literacy program for adults and children.  It was one of the last times that I was truly excited to go to work every day.  I spent a lot of time with a woman my age named Joan.  We shared an “office” which was basically a storage closet with a big Rubbermaid folding table in the middle and a power-strip that we used to plug our laptops in.

Joan had the same work-ethic as me, and we would often leave work at the end of a day, drink coffee or eat dinner than go back for one or two more hours of unpaid work.

I was totally over worked and underpaid, but we were really happy.

During our many chit-chats I learned that Joan was a year out of a really long-term relationship.  And even though she was the one that broke it off with her ex-boyfriend, she was having trouble moving on.  Coincidentally I was about a year out of a really long-term relationship and even though I was the one that broke it off with my ex-boyfriend, I was having trouble moving on.

In the first few months of our friendship, we were really just coworkers that spent a lot of time together.  And I was a bit guarded about telling her that I was homosexual.  I could tell that she was very liberal, accepting and would have no problems with the gay thing.  It was just very personal and I didn’t feel comfortable yet.

One night we went out to a Vietnamese restaurant and we were talking about her relationship.  I was, as usual, using ambiguous pronouns to describe my ex, but then she asked me a question that totally confronted the issue and I could no longer skirt the question.

“So, where does she live?” she asked about my ex.

“He lives in Los Angeles,” I said correcting and answering her.

“WHAT?!” she gasped.

“I know.  LA is so far and inconvenient.”

We laughed about my response for years.

I really enjoy funny coming out stories.  Recently my manager at Sbux was talking to me about baking and she said something like, “it’s a really good recipe you could bake for your girlfriend.”  And I was like…”I haven’t had a girlfriend in a few years.”

How quickly should you correct someone when they assume you’re straight?

This is the one with a new relationship status.

[Insert sad trombone sound here]

Saturday night I took Drew to dinner and the conversation that happened after just lead us to this point. I didn’t have any intention of breaking up with him when we sat down, but after talking I figured out that he wasn’t able to give me what I needed from him at this point. So it’s over.

Totally sad and heartbreaking…becuase he’s a freaking great guy. It just didn’t work out.

I know some of his friends read my blog (hi). And I know that you guys are team Drew…but I hope you still come around and read and invite me places.

This is the one about an old crush.

First of all, that little picture for this blog post took me entirely too long to make.  I drew it…and it’s just a copy of the Foursquare Barista badge (which I totally have).  I was just in the mood to draw something, but then I couldn’t come up with anything so here you go…blatant plagiarism.

Well this post is about a really old crush that I used to have.  Back in California I was part of a writers group that would meet at a local Starbucks and we’d share our writing with one another and offer criticism and feedback to one another.

We would normally meet at a Starbucks close to my home, and I started crushing hardcore on a barista that worked there.  It was really lame.  I was like 22 and he 18/19ish.  I’ve blogged about my barista fetish before [read it here], so just wearing the green apron gave him a few points in my book.

As time passed I learned more and more about him, and these new details should have clued me into the truth that it would have never worked.  He smoked (I can’t kiss a smoker); his big dream in life was to open a medical marijuana facility (I can’t raise my kids on drug money); he dropped out of high school (we’d never be able to compare our Senior Proms!!); and I’m pretty sure he wasn’t even interested (I guess that is a bit of an impediment).

I started forcing my friends to go sit at this coffee shop so I could snag a little conversation with this guy, and all my friends kept trying to gently tell me that I was stupid for imagining a relationship with this guy.  “Umm…he lives with his parents,” they’d say.  Or my favorite, “The only vegetable he eats is marijuana, and I’m not sure that counts.”

I knew deep down that it would have never worked…and you should always listen to your friends.  But haven’t you ever tricked yourself into overlooking the many flaws of someone who is super sexy?

I did eventually see how dumb I was being – perhaps if he had reacted to some of my subtle flirting we would have had a fling, but nothing long-term – and gave up.  Before I moved to Arizona I met up with a friend for one last cup of espresso at that sBux, and the sexy barista said something like, “woah, haven’t seen you in a while.”

And I was like, “I’ve been busy getting ready for a big move.”

And he was like, “cool.”

And I was like, “see ya.”

This is the one where I do the time-warp again.

With a few edits, here is a Facebook message I received from an ex-boyfriend last week:

Hey. I know it’s been awhile, but just wanted to say hi. I thought of you this morning as I purchased tickets to the midnight screening of Rocky Horror for tomorrow night. You popped my Rocky Horror cherry on your living room floor many Octobers ago. I think of you every time I watch it. I remember thinking it was ‘alright’ after that initial viewing, but it’s definitely become a favorite over the years.  And now I’m popping my boyfriend’s Rocky Horror cheery tomorrow night! Hope you’ve been well. I check out your blog occasionally. Maybe one day we’ll hang out if you’re ever in LA or if I ever find myself out in Arizona.

First up, if you’re reading…Hi David.

What joy this gives me.  You know, as my late husband, Ephraim Levi, used to say, “Knowledge of kitschy musicals, pardon the expression, is a lot like manure.  It’s not worth a thing unless it’s spread around encouraging young things to grow.”

This was a LONG time ago.  He’s talking about the fall of 2000.  And I was such a different guy then.  But the fact remains that I’m the kind of person that likes to expose people to classics.  In the last few months I’ve forced…well, encouraged Drew to watch Waiting for Guffman and Hello Dolly both of which he said he enjoyed.  Meanwhile, Drew forced…encouraged me to watch The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy and some Zombie movie and I fell asleep during both!  I’m a jerk, right?

But it is Rocky Horror season.  I’ve googled around and I can’t seem to find anywhere in the PHX area that screens it.  Unfortunately.  At least I have the Rocky episode of Glee in a couple of weeks.

Are any of you time-warpers?

This is the one from three years ago today.

Three years ago I wrote a blog post about getting cyber-stalked…and kind of liking it.

This is what I wrote on September 28th, 2007 [link]:

I went to a concert in Los Angeles last weekend, and I met a guy that was really handsome, and all-around pleasant.

We couldn’t talk too much because the music was loud, but I had the opportunity to drop a couple of details about my life, and I learned a little about him too.

I didn’t give him my telephone number or my email address. I did think about slipping him my business card, but that’s kind of lame. So you can imagine my surprise when I got an email from this tall/dark/handsome cliché of a man this morning.

He did some googling and figured out my name, and found the political blog that I run. His email said this:

Mike: I enjoyed meeting you last Saturday and wish we could have talked a little more. If you’re interested in chatting, email me. Maybe we could arrange to sit together again–this time in a locale that will allow us to get us to know one another better.

Sweet huh?  I feel like a character in some chic-flick.

Every once in a while I like to click back and see exactly where I was one, two or three years ago.  Just another reason I like having a blog.  You should make one, really.

As it turns out the guy that stalked me was totally creepy.  Read this post: This is the one that is a follow-up to the stalking post.  If this was Bridget Jones’ diary, it would have ended better…but I would have been a chubby, emotional woman.  Let’s call it a wash.

This is the one where I introduce you two 2 Drews.

I haven’t blogged too much about my bf…mainly because I didn’t want to jinx anything.  It’s kind of like a woman not telling people she’s pregnant until the little fetus really takes hold.

Now that there is a story that I want to tell you guys, I have to take the chance and throw this up here.

So I’m dating Drew.  He’s wonderfully smart and caring with a little touch of nerd.

Bethany and I have conversed about how personal our blogs should be…and she has decided to exclude some of her life (mostly things about her daughter) and I’ve decided to exclude nothing (except maybe a story or two about my bowel movements).

So this is Drew…but I have another Drew in my life.

My new roommate is named Drew too.  How fucking confusing, right?  To be completely honest, I had second thoughts about moving in with Drew because of his name.

And then I kind of fell in love with the apartment.  The fake wood floors, the in-unit Washer/Dryer and the 6 mile commute to work (as opposed to my 50 mile commute now).

So now I have two Drews in my life.  I’m sure nicknames will emerge.  But until then, you’ll just have to figure out which one I’m talking about.

This is the one where I look like a complete ass.

I was kind of hesitant to post this story…but then I thought honest blogging is good blogging.  Then I thought a true lady doesn’t kiss and tell.  Then I thought a penny saved is a penny earned.  And I started getting all of my clichés all confused.

So whatever.  Here’s the story of that time when I was a selfish ass.

About 7 or 8 years ago, when I was living in California I was dating this guy (whose name escapes me…Darrell?  David?  Who the hell knows?!).  Physically, the guy was an 8 or 9.  He kind of looked like CNN’s TJ Holmes, minus the suit.

We did normal date things.  Dinners.  Movies.  Visits to the beach.  Whatever.  But I started noticing that he was hesitant to get too intimate.  We would make out, but when I’d try to get second base, I’d get the mormon-brush-off.

We were like three or four dates in and  I was starting to realize that aside from his CNN anchor looks, there wasn’t much else that  I liked about the guy.  He was going to school to be a veterinarian.  Loved horses.  Spent all of his free time at the horse stables.  And the closest I’ve been to a real horse was when I rode the stagecoach at Knott’s Berry Farm.

So it fizzled.

He was going to come over to my place to watch a movie for our fifth or sixth date, and I made a resolution.  I was done.  This movie date would be our last get-together, but maybe I could get more than a kiss…if you follow.

He showed up and we watched a movie.  We rolled around on the bed, but I didn’t get anything that I had hoped for.

After the movie I was kind of a jerk.  He wanted to hang out some more but I did that fake yawn thing and looked at the clock.  He got the hint and left.

For a normal person, this story would end now.  But for some reason my life is stranger than fiction, and too many of my experiences are worthy of a tele-novela plot point.

Please remember that when I said “goodbye” that night, I had every intention of never seeing this guy again. I like a little hard-to-get…but I’m no fan of unattainable.

Later that night I got an email.  The gist of the email was this, “I like you a lot.  I’ve been less-than-honest.  I was diagnosed with HIV about a year ago and I thought you should know before we get any more intimate.”

Fuck.

What were my options after that?

1. I could ignore his email.  Dodge his phone calls.  And look like a complete ass.

2. I could respond that I wasn’t really interested in him, and it had nothing to do with the HIV.  And look like a complete ass.

3. I could lie and continue to date him for a while and slowly break it off.  Stringing him along and looking like a complete ass.

What would you have done?  I ended up going with number two.  It was the only honest approach…but I’m sure I came out of it looking like an ass in his eyes.

What would you have done?  Additionally, would you pursue a relationship with someone if you learned early on (way before you LOVED the person) that they had HIV?  I’m super-curious.

This is the one that deals with the tough stuff.

My friend Kerri took a break from her blog to do some selfish things…like have a baby.  And when she was getting ready to burst she asked for some of us to write guest posts for her site SixUntilMe.com.

This was back around the time that Dan and I broke up, so now you have the incredibly depressing story of how diabetes affected my love life.
Read it on Kerri’s page here.