crane collapse, NYC gentrification and on being a social outcast...

Sad news today in the Big Apple, another crane collapsed on the UES this morning. 2 people (construction workers) were killed. It's been all over the news. Sad, but more frustrating that we can't maintain safe construction sites. I bet the Bloomberg administration is up in arms about this. I can only hope this will prompt better safety standards for other cranes and sites being built elsewhere in the city. I being a preservation-yuppy am all about decreasing the amount of construction going on in this city. When I lived down in SoHo on Varick St, they began building the Trump SoHo tower. I recall many were up in arms about this god-awful glass building soaring above the quaint 3 story brick and iron-cast buildings, which gives SoHo it's own historical integrity. I don't know how they got the zoning clearance to build such an impersonal ugly looking skyscraper. It's gentrification, and it's becoming more apparent each day as more and more rich people from Europe move here to fill these rich 1.1+ million dollar condos. I for one would never want to live in a glass building. Although I'll gladly take a nice brownstone anytime...preferably in Chelsea, W20-22nd St, anywhere btw 8th-10th Ave. As I walk by these gorgeous tree lined streets, thoughts of my tragic financial state and lack of security kick in, for I know I will never be able to afford these places...unless of course I marry a rich sugar daddy. Better get on that soon before I hit 30. Since moving to Manhattan I have become somewhat obsessed with real-estate. Many of my colleagues look at me strangely when I discuss the crisis of the housing market as if I am speaking like a middle-aged gay man going through the throws of his gay-mid-life crisis. I can only conclude the reason why I feel the way I feel is because I have an old soul. I never felt like I was truly the age I was. Whether I was 8 or 18, 20, or 23...I have always felt beyond my years. This has made me feel at times very isolated from the rest of society. Coming to the realization of being an outcast is not easy, however those close to me are always there to comfort me and share their own experiences. I am thankful for being aware of what I know is right and it has definitely helped in times of turning away from something you know isn't going to work in the long run. All in all I just keep waiting for the moment where it won't feel so depressing at times. Perhaps in a couple of years? Who knows. In the mean time, I know the most important thing to do is to stay busy with my practicing, working out, and staying informed.

On a completely different note, I watched this documentary called A Very British Sex Scandal: Docu-Drama It was VERY informative and well made. It's in 8 parts on youtube. This is the kind of stuff that keeps me balanced and clear.

on dealing with pan-handlers/beggars and down right crazys...

I have always tried to be compassionate of those less fortunate than me. I am thankful for the roof over my head (even though there are loud obnoxious ri-ri-kids above banging into things)and for food, etc. That being said, those less fortunate than me (and the majority of NYers) stop at nothing to beg for some "spare change." We are faced with this EVERYDAY, EVERY HOUR, EVERYWHERE!! I swear if I had a dime for everytime someone asked me for change, I think I'd have my tuition paid for by now. And although I usually do have some bit of $$ on me, I rarely give, because I know most of these people do have shelters to live at, or at least city-assistance. Or they just may be downright liars and really be rich financial investors, like this guy

I swear there are times when I really just want to yell, why don't you pay me for MY DEBT!! See these pandhandlers may have "0" $$, I have some NEGATIVE $30,000. Whose worse off now? hmmm?

That is why I am so grateful for the invention of the IPOD! Just a few circles to the right, and presto...you're no longer connected to the comments of, "Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen, so to bother you, my name is Joe, I'm homeless, spare some change, food, etc, yadda, the shelter is going to kick me out tomorrow (he said that yesterday and the day before, coincidently on the same train at the same time)

This is when you can tell a true New Yorker from a tourist. New Yorkers ignore, tourists give more.

on being a coffeeholic...

Prior to moving to the big apple, I generally maintained a decent enough schedule that required little caffeinated support. That has certainly changed over the year. Now I am a full blown caffeine addict But thank God for not having to sacrifice my full blown addiction for the sake of pregnant wives as depicted in Scrubs Cuz we know I ain't getting a girl pregnant anytime soon! ahahahaha.
Foregoing a day with out my coffee, latte, cappachino, or espresso. (red-bull and other energy drinks apply too) is like a day without sunshine. The smell and taste of
Joe brings more than a buzz, it actually has a calming effect too! It really keeps me from crashing from all the hustle and bustle of the city...

And who can blame us New Yorkers? All that walking, all that climbing up and down subway stairs, carrying our crap EVERYWHERE, working, running errands...it's EXHAUSTING!!! I have never had to expel such an exuberant amount of energy EVERYDAY! That being said, coffee has been my friend for quite some time. My newfound appreciation for $$Expensive$$ coffee has certainly added to the financial woes of moving here, but I figure we all have our guilty expenditure. I could be smoking, endangering my lungs and hacking up a storm, or not have such a low tolerance for alcohol, hence having to spend more on drinks. No instead I decide to drink caffeine and destroy, well I guess my stomach...I can't handle too much of it at a time...I have had some "moment" shall we say where I've "paid the price" like this celebrity after his Starbucks latte....ooooohhhh!
I guess it's an easy way to ahem...detox? lol.
But going back to my expensive taste and endless search for the best coffee in Manhattan. I can surely attest that Cafe Grumpy on West 20th St btw 7th and 8th in Chelsea is BY FAR the BEST place to go for coffee. The staff are super friendly and very knowledgeable about the different blends and monthly selections. The cafe is super cute too, I want that desk in the back! I've taken the majority of my coffee loving friends there and they too have loved it. Taking my dad this summer, so I'm sure he'll be revved up for that...literally! Until next time...

Sex and the City, New Fest and PRIDE oh my!

Though it's three days till the month of June, it might as well be bustin' out all over With the NYC premier of Sex and the City happening tonight, the whole city is celebrating amidst the sweltering humidity. I for one am very stoked and plan to see it Friday (pending availability). Then from June 5th-15th NewFest will be premiering over 250 films. I am particularly interested in the closing night gala of Were the World Mine and other films such as Ready? OK! and The Sensei

All in all it's going to be a great month. This years pride will actually be my first and although I'm sad I won't be in my native state to celebrate in SF, I figure NYC will be just as great. Until next time...

on becoming a gay-nun...

I grew up as a kid always attending church every Sunday. I always had the most admiration for religion until well...I found out it condemns the "homosexuals." My views have been skewed due to the Christian fundamentalists, or Jesus Freaks as I often term them. Yet I have always maintained a sense of spirituality and sense of humor with religion. After all, there's always a good sex scandal with priests and alter boyz
And who could forget the classic line from Sex and the City when Samantha discusses her newfound "religion"

Samantha: I masturbated to my priest... Friar Fuck!
Carrie: Okay, I think we're going to have to get Charlotte a crash helmet.
Charlotte: You have a priest?

Samantha: [referring to a "hot priest"] Look at his robe. So "Robin and his Merry Men."

Yet on Saturday, my sense of humor diminished quickly as a close friend of mine suggested (half-jokingly) that I should look into becoming a gay-celibate priest. We were having brunch at Eatery and of course I being the hopeless romantic, was drooling over all the cute waiters, who coincidently all bat for the Rainbow team. Upon finishing our brunch, my friend grabs the tab and squiggles my number on the receipt for the server to pick up which would somehow explain the shy glimpse and awkwardness when he'd pour my coffee. (three times to be exact) Although I did find him attractive, I was in no position to pursue things further. (after all he wasn't THAT great at attending to my every needs ;). We left, or shall I say I left in a hurry as to quickly relinquish the embarrassment incrued upon our lovely dining experience. And that's when my friend half joking said (after I told her I wasn't ready to start picking up on waiter boyz) "you know, I wonder if they have a place for gay priests because you're certainly on your way to becoming one." THE NERVE!!! I actually chuckled at first, mainly because it was a clever witty comment, one that I certainly couldn't come up with as quickly, but 5 seconds later, I felt like I was going to cry because it felt so true. Having been more or less celibate (minus the quality time with my left hand) with guys for the past three years, it certainly had a stinging reminder that yes, I am still single, and 2, yes I am not getting laid anytime soon. My friend of course apologized, and I forgave her by waving my hands in the motion of a cross.(admonishing her sins away) But the thoughts of why I'm single and yes (sigh) slightly lonely did envoke a vast array of emotions I have tried to suppress over the years....you know, keeping busy, spending time with friends, yadda yadda. I look at guys my own age (yes 23...soooo old lol) and wonder how they are able to live such Samantha Jones lifestyles and not give a hoot about the deeper stuff (and I'm not talking dildos or butt plugs) They think with their dicks and nothing more. My conscious somehow gets the better of me everytime preventing me from taking part in that crazy activity of random hook-ups. Factor in the high standards, and there you go. Doesn't matter how much you try to shut it off (or have it heavily intoxicated), it's always there and always prevails. Why those close have admired my consistent moral, I have not come to the realization that this is entirely a good thing. Instead I feel more isolated and yes, sexually frustrated. I know patience is important to have, and lord knows I struggle with that, but I wonder when that time will come before I do indeed turn into a gay-nun.
BC