Run away to Paris. Gaze at the pink and pistachio glow of macarons in the window on Boulevard Saint-Germain. Listen to Joni Mitchell. Meet an Argentinean man in the Latin Quarter for drinks. Melt into his accent and kiss him goodnight, but return to your apartment alone because his face doesn’t look enough like the man’s you are trying to forget.
The Hills was a brilliant show for many reasons, one of which being that people continually tuned in, despite knowing that nothing ever happened. Each episode ended with the viewer wanting more and accepting that they would never get it.
Somehow my smallness in Los Angeles made me resilient. I began to realize it was the effort of trying that made me matter. Failure to try became paramount to failure in of itself. Essentially, success was no longer mandatory, while willingness was everything.
The longer I live in New York, the more protective I feel of California. In fact it seems like the more I fall in love with New York, the more I love California. Does that make sense?
I have lived in Los Angeles for over 12 years now, and one of the things that has made it a pleasant experience is finding ways to avoid driving, especially during rush hour. While I’ve used public transportation in L.A. off and on throughout the years, for the last six months, I’ve been regularly taking the bus to work — which makes me an aberration amongst my friends in this city…
Bonjour, Madame,” a sparkly flight attendant says. Her powder blue eye shadow takes me back to seventh grade. I blink hello. I’ve been butchering French for a month and cannot bring myself to utter one more word. I cannot wait to lean my head against the cabin wall the entire eleven and a half hour flight to Los Angeles. Last night’s farewell party was epic. That techno music is still pulsing through my eye sockets.
This is what draws me to Provincetown. It represents homosexuality at its most kooky and irreverent. You see a gaggle of old gay men in a restaurant at happy hour who look like they’ve been friends for decades and it fills you with a sense of pride and belonging.
With the many warm little clusters of people huddling together around tall buildings, the “cities” that dot our landscape like a misshapen constellation, it’s sometimes hard to understand why absolutely none of them are interesting or relevant. None of them, that is, except New York City.
This how you live the life of Bret Easton Ellis. Go to lunch with someone and barely speak. Leave lunch and wait until you go to dinner. The three hours you have between dinner reservations will give you serious anxiety and you will have to just drive on the freeway to deal with it.
Sexuality is so personal. Conservative parents, fear of disownment and religion definitely play a role in someone ‘s decision to remain in the closet. But at the end of the day, it’s all about whether or not that person can feel okay about loving another man.