The night after

Ever had one of those days when you had fun the night before and were still buzzing with it the next day? That's me, today. Actually, tonight. 24 hours after I get home from a night of Long Islands at the Union Station and I still feel slightly drunk. I mean, come on. I only drank 2 Smirnoff Ices tonight (at home) and that about tipped me over the edge. Guess my liver isn't too happy with me at the moment.

Call me out on this, but isn't there an unwritten law that hot bartenders at gay bars are supposed to wear shorts and t-shirts to show off their hot bods??? Well, Howie (the sexy one) behaved himself last night and wore a pair of shorts that showed his legs and ass to perfection. Gotta love Howie. He's got that dark, curly hair that I would just love to run my hands thru. Mmmmm! Kyle (the bartender that just exudes SEX), on the other hand, broke the law. He actually wore jeans! (gasp!!!) And they were the most unflattering pair of jeans I've ever seen. They did absolutely nothing for his ass(ets). When I called him on it, his excuse was "it's getting cooler out lately". Hmmm, if you're that chilly come over here, I know I can keep ya warm.

Still, I have to admit, I had a great time undressing him in my mind. I wonder if Kyle looks as good without clothes as he does with clothes? But I wander... I was going to reiterate (just for my friends and my new readers) that I love Howie to death and would do him in a heartbeat. BUT, I would let Kyle do my in the middle of the bar with everyone looking on. Y'all didn't know I was such an exhibitionistic slut, did ya?

Damn, starting to speak hick again. Gotta lay off the hooch tomorrow night when I go clubbing. Can't be doing this on Sunday when I go to the photo lab to do more prints.

I think I mentioned previously that I had processed my film for my Art 400 class on Moanday. Well, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday were all dedicated to producing contact sheets and various types of prints. They are f*ing AWESOME. I showed Jay, my masseur, what I had so far and he was impressed. According to him, I have an "eye" for the art. Makes me wonder why the hell I'm an English major. Oh, yeah, I remember. The curriculum for an art / photography major was insane. (but I never said that outloud!) Maybe, if I can get my scanner to do what it was designed to, I will post some pics for viewing.

I spent a lot of time today helping Angie (another photography student) get caught up. She was still working on processing her film and hadn't gotten around to making any contact sheets or prints. So, I helped her out until they closed the photo lab and kicked us out. I think there was a problem with the processing of her film because we couldn't get the contact sheets to come clean (er, not too light or dark). We made 3, but she is going to have to go to Colleen and have her take a look at them.

I've been spending the last few days reading the Chad Fox blog, trying to get an idea of what blogging is really like. I have to say, this guy is a BLAST to read. If you've ever wondered what gay life in San Francisco is like (or could be like, if you were THE Chad Fox) when you have ADD (the adult kind) and thing for photography and blogging, then this is the blog for you. I've been reading his post in order, from the earliest to the latest, and I think I am getting an idea what Chad is like. And his blog, too, for that matter.

Chad is an EXCELLENT photographer. He has some images of his friend Daigle that are to drool for. Can't remember where they are, at the moment, but if you take the time to go through the blog you will find them. Chad has also posted an image of his ass (well, half his ass) and a rather pornographic shot of him giving a bj to his (now ex) boyfriend! He's also related some stories of how he lost his underwear at a couple of bars. Very funny! Ah, to be young and hot. Oh, wait, he's only 2 years younger than me. Guess that means I'M YOUNG! WOOHOO!

I have to ask... Do we have a "Trannyshak" here in Columbus? I think that's a bar in the good ol' SF. When I first ran across that name in Chad's blog, it was in relation to a computer failure, so I thought Trannyshak was gayspeak for RadioShak. Y'know, like Homo Depot.

Hmmm, guess it's time for another internet quiz:


You Are The Suave Gay Man


What Type Of Gay Man Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

Once again, if I looked like the stud in the picture, I probably wouldn't be blogging about what I haven't been doing lately. Being gay and single ain't all it's cracked up to be. Mmmmm, crack. They say crack kills, but oh, what a way to go! Pounding and grunting and sweating and...

Sorry, got carried away. But, please, feel free to fantasize! :)

Belli, this kitten is getting tired. If I'm going to have any energy for dancing I'm going to have to hit the sack (alone again, dammit!) soon. 'Sides, I feel myself starting to think in hick again. Guess I need to head back to the hills and get it outta my system again.

Buona notte, tutti! xoxoxoxoxo

Dropped

OK, finally decided to drop a class. Now I only have 3 classes, none of which are on Tuesday / Thursday. I thought that I could do 20 hours, but... Oh, well. Something about this quarter feels different. Mebbe it's the party-boy in me coming back to life. Helene said I was nuts, but what does she know. She won't even go dancing with me. Weirdness. After all, she likes to hang out at gay clubs / bars.

Processed my first batch of black and white film today in my photography class. I didn't do too awful bad. The last few pics on each roll was ruined because the film kinked up. The rest look good, tho. Next time I'll know how to hold the film as I unspool it onto the reels. At least I wasn't the only one who made a mistake. Another guy did the same as I did, but only to one roll.

Saw Dean today. He is looking hot as ever. Damn, wish I had the balls to ask him out. I have a feeling that a stud like him could really rock my world (amongst other things). However, I was on the phone listening to Helene whine about how her gay boyfriend is mad at her. Well, mebbe mad at her. Str8 girls, they have more drama than any twink I have ever known! Because of HELENE he got away! :)

Anyway, where was I... Oh, yeah, time for another quiz. I found this one a while ago, but I don't think it accurately represents me. But, then, that could just depend on who you ask.

Take the quiz:
"Your Bedtime Body Language (PICS)(Guys Only)"



Face Down
Studs who sleep on their stomachs have passion and energy. Your a hands on guy who tends to be punctual and successful. One caveat: Your propensity to hog the bed space with your sprawling position suggests you might be a tad controlling.

Hmmm, I know I do NOT look like that when I sleep. I mean, come on, if I looked that sexy I wouldn't have any problems finding a man. Then again, what do I know. I can only see myself thru my eyes, and I remember how good I used to look. Guess it's time to hit the gym again. And again, and again. Back on the high protein diet, too. That seemed to work last spring when I lost 15 pounds. You remember, back when I was drooling after studly. Er, I mean, Kevin.

That's all for now, ragazzi. I must be off to bed and pretend to get to sleep before 3 am. Mebbe if I found a decent club to go dancing at on a Moanday night I could wear myself out faster. Then again, I only got 4 hours of sleep last night...

Allora, sono stancho. Ciao, tutti!

Recovery Mode

Yes, I know, I shouldn't be out hitting the clubs all night, but what can I say? I LOVE TO DANCE!!! Well, I wasn't out all night, either. I hit the Union Station and played pool for a few hours with this cute neo-goth. Then he left and, since I couldn't get anyone to play with me (pool, you perverts!) I headed out for Axis. It was a little early, but I was bored and Howie (one of my favorite bartenders) was working hard and couldn't chat.

When I got to Axis, there wasn't anyone there. So I had another drink and hung around on the wall, watching the drag queens getting ready for their show. When the drink was done I hit the dance floor. It was just me and a little, black drag queen in training. Did I care? NO! Eventually more and more people arrived and joined us and I got lost in a crowd of gyrating, hot, sweaty people (most of them guys who kept taking their shirts off!!!). I think I danced 3 hours straight, except for one bathroom break. Y'know, there was actually a line for the men's room. Knew I shoulda gone to the ladies... :)

Anyway, I had a great time, even if I was by myself. I don't remember how many times I let my hand graze someone's arm, ass, chest, back. I may have even hit a crotch or three! Hell, I even took off my shirt near the end. Good thing I had a sleeveless T on underneath. Don't need to go scaring everyone. :)

But, in the end, I came home alone. Probably a good thing. I've been carrying a low grade fever for the past few weeks. Don't need to be getting a potential bf/lover sick on the first night.

So, I didn't get home until 3 and got to sleep sometime after 4. Then I get up at 10! WTF! Now I have to fight sleep off so that I can get all my homework done.

I was crawling through blogs this morning and found a link to one of those cool quizzes that tell you something about yourself. Very accurate, for me:



You are savvy, sassy and always on the go!
Even if it means borrowing someone else's
car without asking! Sometimes you say
the wrong thing at the wrong time, but
that's why we all love you!

Which Golden Girl Are You?

Hmmm, I think I remember holding a knife and laughing maniacally. Once or twice, anyway.

I have done a bunch of other quizzes, but I will add them in a bit at a time over the next few posts.

Well, tutti, I must be off. Chaucer ain't gonna read himself.

A domani!

Sorry I was away soooo long...

You know how it is. Once I was away from school, and since I don't work, I got extremely lazy and partyboy-ish. Sitting down to post a blog was not at the top of my agenda, while drinking and chasing guys was. So far, nothing new on the bf front. I keep meeting a LOT of cute guys, possibly interesting guys, but I just don't have the bahogies to go up and introduce myself.

Went to Helene to Tradewinds last weekend and had a BLAST! I forgot how much fun dancing is. Actually, I forgot how good I am. Not was good as Helene, of course, but not bad. I'd say I'm better than most straight boys, but, then again, who isn't!

So, classes have just begun. Can we say "stressed"? I don't know why, but this should be that difficult. After all, I took 20 hours last spring and did OK. I just didn't have to develop my on pictures for photography. This quarter I do. We just had a basic intro to what is involved and it was LONG AND INVOLVED. And that was just processing the film. I don't know what it will be like to actually do the pictures.

Well, much as I'd like to procrastinate, I have a lot of homework to do before Moanday. I have another blog for classes (http://someosustudent.blogspot.com). If you're interested in what I'm doing there, take a look!

Ciao tutti!

Okay, so I just had to add this and post again. I think it accurately describes me (LOL):

The Exotic Lover 50% partner focus, 23% aggressiveness, 60% adventurousness

Based on the results of this test, it is highly likely that: You prefer your romance and love to wild and daring rather than typical or boring, you would rather be pursued than do the pursuing and, when it comes to physical love, you concentrate more on enjoying the experience rather than worrying about your performance. This places you in the Lover Style of: The Exotic Lover. The Exotic Lover is a wonderful Lover Style, and conjures images of the exotic, romantic hero out of a romance novel, or perhaps a slightly dangerous and deadly sexy femme fatale from a noir mystery. The Exotic Lover loves pleasure and is a treasure to date, though it can be difficult to do so because they sometimes tend to be mysterious and reluctant to commit. In terms of physical love, the Exotic Lover can be quite surprising, as they are often more exciting and adventurous than predicted. Given a little freedom, and the right lover, the Exotic Lover can be a delight in bed. Best Compatibility can probably be found with: The Liberated Lover (most of all) or the Devoted Lover, or the Romantic Lover. Thanks Again! -- THE LOVER STYLE PROFILE TEST

My test tracked 3 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender: You scored higher than 27% on partner focus You scored higher than 4% on aggressiveness You scored higher than 52% on adventurousness

Link: The Lover Style Profile Test written by donathos on Ok Cupid

What a week!

Ever had one of those days where you have a lot of important shit to do but just can't seem to do it? The whole past week has been like that for me! I have two papers due, one last Thursday and one today, neither of which is done. That is the whole reason that I'm up at such an ungodly hour. I at least need to get the one due for today done. The other I'll take in tomorrow and just kiss ass.

Why did I procrastinate so bad? I just can't seem to focus. (Yes, Mama Laura, I've been taking my meds.) All I've wanted to be is a party boy. I want to go out, get fraggin' wasted, pick up some stud (or get picked up), and have some really wild sex. Do you realize how much self control it takes to just sit at home and do nothing?

I've had a couple of online invitations to chat. One is a guy from Russia, another from Washington (the state), and two from here in Columbus! There is also one in Akron that I want to get to know better. Dark hair, hazel eyes, dark and moody... Just my type. At least, the type that I'm attracted to the most. Gonna have to take it slow and easy with him. I've read a some of his journal entries and he expects to be "hooked" into a conversation by a guy, not have to lead one.

Well, my papers aren't getting done this way. Must run.

Ciao tutti!

New Clothes

Okay, my new friends Helene and Kona came over and completely trashed my wardrobe. Evidentally, if I want to get out on the market, I need a set of clothes that says: "Sono qui, sono strano, sono favoloso". Maybe not the best translation, but my italiano is rusty. Although there were some things that they liked, I've got a whole list of things that need updated.

Guess it's off Lazarus, Penney's, and whatever stud shop I can find to locate what I need. I don't think a quick stop at the Thrift Store is going to work. If they found me there, or in clothes I bought from there, they'd shoot me.

Not exactly what I was planning on doing tonight, but maybe I can hit The Old Bag of Nails for a drink or two after spending beacoup bucks. Besides, a lot of cute guys hang out there!

Ciao tutti!

Why Bagelbuoy?

So, you are probably wondering why I chose bagelbuoy as my blogspot name and email addy. Well, even if you're not, I'm gonna tell ya anyway.

One guess who it references... Yep, you're right. It's still all about Kevin. I know, I know, this is getting creepy. You would think I would get a life outside of my infatuation, and I have, but sometimes wallowing in my own misery is just gratifying.

On the last day I actually saw and spoke with Kevin, he mentioned that he wanted to stay in the EU, if he could find a job. Since he was a US citizen and only had a Bachelor's of English in Pre-Ed, I told him that the most he could hope for was a job as a bagel boy in some Parisian cafe.

This quarter I took another class in creative writing and I decided to have my final project be about my rollercoaster ride from the Spring Quarter. Since I wanted the "Scooby-doo" ending, I had Kevin send me an email from Paris, asking me to join him there. The email addy he used was bagelbuoy@yahoo.fr. Just to make sure that some French stud didn't get hammered with junk mail from my class, I tried to get a yahoo mail account as either bagelboy or bagelboi. Both were used. Then my genius kicked in and I thought buoy, with the way we pronounce it in the US, sounds an awful lot like boy.

So, bagelbuoy was born. I decided to keep it as my own, just as I have several others I collected over the years: mrkmurfitt, tomf, and now bagelbuoy. Mrkmurfit is the first guy I had a crush on, way back in high school. TomF is a guy I worked with for 4 years. TomF and I flirted with each other the whole time but neither of us had the bahogies to go to the next step. Now there's Kevin as bagelbuoy.

Allora, ragazzi, I must go. If it's Friday night, it's pizza night AND, if I hear from Rick, it's party night.
Ciao tutti!

What did I do?

To continue in the same vane, I'm a nervous wreck. Throughout the past six weeks I've sent a few emails to Kevin while he was in Europe. The first few weren't so bad. All things considered they were rather tame. The last one wasn't bad either. It was just last week and it was after I'd seen him at the airport (after I'd calmed down). I just told him that I'd seen him waiting for my airplane but a brain fart kept me from saying anything.

It was one of the ones in the middle that scares the crap outta me. First off, I was very drunk. Drunk enough that I couldn't remember sending it. At first I thought it was just a dream, but I kept having this nagging suspicion that there was something to it. So, after a few weeks of looking I finally located it. It wasn't anything overt, but there was this undercurrent of... Desperation? Desire? It's really hard to figure out. My friend Laura, after I forwarded it to her, just said, "Oh, my". Nothing else, just those two words. Then she comes back and says, "It wasn't that bad".

Yeah, right! Like I believe that.

Now my biggest fear falls into two areas: Will he respond, giving me a chance to figure out if there's a possibility of a relationship? OR, will he do nothing and force me to move on?

Part of me, in my head and in my heart, is yelling and screaming, "Do nothing! Let it go, don't respond!" Pathetic, I know. If he were to just let this go, I wouldn't have to do anything. I could pretend to get over it and move on. I'll let my friends find me someone to distract me.

Yet, the other part of me is hurt because he hasn't responded yet. He's been home for five days. He's had time to talk with his family, catch up with his friends, look at his email. Just not enough time to reply to me and either say "bugger off" or "let's meet".

Whichever way it goes, whatever happens, there'll be no regrets. Not on my part. I will always love him. It is irrevelant if he ever returns the feeling. It is irrevelant if he ever knows how I feel.

Y'know, love sucks!

Here I Go

Okay, most of you who are reading this now know me and know how hopeless I am when it comes to matters of love. After ten years I finally allowed (yes, the wording is correct) myself to fall for someone else. His name's Kevin. He's cute, he's sweet, he's everything I was looking for. But, since it's been so long since I felt this way, I never said anything to him. I'd fogotten how. So I let myself love him from a distance and I pined and whined, then I wined myself into oblivion. Without going into the heartrending details, let's just say I had it bad and my friends were getting tired of listening to me.

When the quarter was over he graduated and left for Europe and I spent six weeks getting over him. Every morning, every evening, all I could do was think of him. There's a song that I think accurately describes how I felt (still feel). "On my own, pretending he's beside me...." Anyway, it's "On My Own" from Les Miserables.

It was hard, but I have just begun looking at other guys. So, now there's Dean. He's cute and friendly and nice and I'm actually thinking of asking him out. It's just, there is nothing there. There is no spark like I had with Kevin. Still, I have hope that something will come of it.

Now for the kicker. I went to Chicago for the pleasure of business last week. The usual cliche thing happened: my plane was late. So there I was, sitting at the gate, reading one of my Bond books, riding on the fumes of the previous night's alcoholic binge and only 3 hours of sleep. I have to admit, I like the eye candy and I was checking out every guy that went by. About twenty minutes after my plane was supposed to arrive, I look up and these two guys walk by. The one furthest from me was hot. The one closest to me was even hotter and I thought, "Damn, he looks like Kevin." Then, that guy looks over in my direction and it was Kevin.

I just sat there. My heart's pounding, my palms are sweaty, I'm light headed, and I didn't say a word. Not a fucking word. All I could do was sit there and watch him walk away again. I let him walk away once before and it nearly tore me apart. Now I've let the same thing happen again. It was a one in a million chance of ever seeing him again. If my airplane had been on time I never would have seen him. Curse or Blessing? Or Both?

What can I say? I'm hopeless!