Busy Queen Bee
Working at the most popular gay club in Colorado defiantly puts you to the test. I spent the evening running around with an arm full of glasses, a headset full of people yelling for security to break up fights, certain bartenders yelling at me for more beer, and everyone and their mother grabbing my ass.
While working under extreme amounts of pressure may break people down, I find it exciting, and incredibly amusing. Although I have to do no-so-glamorous tasks every so often, I still find myself with a grin on my face at the end of the night.
I’ve been getting busier and busier lately, in an attempt to drown out any thoughts I may have about my friends, relationships, or family situations. Between working two jobs, trying to catch up on sleep and bills, I have been fairly successful. I haven’t had time to worry about what people think of me, because I’ve been having such a blast living life day-by-day.
My dear friend Nic and I had a wonderful brunch together a week or two ago. I was apparent that I had been completely overwhelmed by my first night working at TRACKS that previous evening, considering that I was in public wearing a purple sweatshirt, black sweat pants, green flip flops, and oversized sun glasses.
We got to sit down and talk about the crew: Steven, Eric, Nic, myself. It was nice to be able to talk to someone who could actively listen, and then provide feedback.
Steven suggested a few ways that I could improve myself; being less gay. To some degree, I know exactly what he’s talking about. No one likes a raging queen. Girl, I know I don’t. However, in the gay community I see a lot of guys snapping their fingers, and screaming “hay grill!” at the tops of their lungs, and while I admit to doing that from time to time, I also see how fake it is.
Growing up, everyone knew I was gay. Lets be real here; when I open up my mouth, a drag queen falls out and kicks you in the face. When I was younger I would always baby sit my little brother’s friends, and they would always ask me,” Matt, why don’t you talk in your normal voice?”
At the age of 13, and a freshman in high school, that’s a hard thing to hear. Living in the wet social rectum of Colorado (Longmont) surrounded my faggot hating, boot wearers, was tough enough as it was. The fact that I had a queeny woman voice that I just couldn’t shake, added insult to injury.
I don’t feel like writing anymore.
I get a lot of demands to update my blog. I know all my friends read it. (whether or not they are talking to me)
You know what? It’s not fir to me for everyone to be reading my life. Especially when I don’t want to write about it, at the moment.
If you’re reading this, and you want to know what’s going on with me, you are going to have to pull your shit together and fucking ask me.
What happens when I’m tired of being that great friend to everyone else, and I have NO ONE to return the favor?
I stop writing.
Matty B.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Listen
I was sitting on the couch watching the OC Season Three, and Ryan and Marissa finally got back into Harbor, and started applying for colleges. Seth and Summer decided that they should both apply for Brown. I decided I needed to get off my lazy ass and do something with my life. So I put on some pants and decided to take action. Nothing in your life will change, if you don’t change. So does the journey to self discovery begin.
Last night was my first night back at the gym. I think that the best way to feel good about yourself is by creating positive changes in your life. When you work out, your body releases endorphins. Endorphins make you happy. It’s as simple as that. It wouldn’t hurt to feel good about my body. Plus, my roommate suggested that I should consider getting liposuction. Although he says tons of stuff like that to validate his own personal decisions, it wouldn’t hurt to tone up, and slim down. No one likes a fatty.
I made a list of things that I wanted to accomplish between now, and the New Year. At the top of that list, was to get away from this shitty school known as the Art Institute, and get into the
Another item on my list, was to create more art. I’ve really been letting myself go, as far as art goes, with the exception of my blog, because I’ve been so busy, attempting to improve my financial standings. Well not anymore! I had my final day at Melt, and now I actually have time to do things with my life, that actually matter.
I really think that this will be a positive step for me. Taking some time to myself, observing things that aren’t a positive influence in my life, maturing and developing my body... it should be interesting to see how this plays out.
Until next time…
Matty B.
All The Leaves Are Brown And The Sky Is Grey
The past week has been over saturated. The Highs, the lows, the colors, the grays; when it was good, it was great. When it was bad, it was fuckin' ugly. All I can say is that I did NOT get the R&R that I needed. I did however, see the true colors of my friends, and have an absolute blast.
The sky has been a miserable melancholy gray for the past few days. Between the rain, the wind, and the browns of the trampled fall leaves, the city has been wallowing in its’ own self pity. As I sat under my white and green Lacoste umbrella listening to my iPod, I realized that sometimes, you have accept the fact that sometimes things aren’t always what you tell yourself they are.
I sat there looking at the world around me, the cold black streets, the dark grays and browns of the surrounding buildings. Maybe its pessimism or maybe it’s a moment of clarity, but Denver isn’t so amazing. Life isn’t as amazing as I keep talking it up to myself. I’ve been trying to convince myself that if I work myself to the bone, get in with the right people, wear the right clothes, make enough money; things will get better for me.
I went to my first 21+ night, at TRACKS, on Friday. There were maybe four people there. Okay that’s a bit of an exaggeration; however, there couldn’t have been more than 50 people there. At the hottest gay club in Denver, there were only 50 people? It was definitely a shocker and a let down. I heard Saturdays are the night to go, but was still hoping that it wasn’t the pathetic excuse that is undoubtedly was. I however, still had a blast because I had a few drinks and a few rides on the mechanical bull, with my very dear friends (and Lesbian Mafia), Bri, Rae, and Ange.
When I text Eric that night letting him know, I got no reply, as usual. It seems that more and more, he’s been screening my text messages. In fact, I can’t remember the last time he’s actually text me back. Oh yeah, he text me back on Friday, when he cancelled on me to sporadically drive to Longmont to hang out with a friend. You know, I keep talking him up to myself. I keep talking up all my friends to make them so much better than they actually are.
I suppose I wouldn’t be as upset as I am about being blown off, if it didn’t keep happening. It’s not just him, either. My friends just think that they can say one thing, and do something completely different. Maybe it’s the people I’m choosing to spend time with. Maybe I’m too easy going, and let them think its okay to blow me off. Either way, it’s fucked up, and it’s getting old. Fast.
The bus comes, and I step up, pay my fare, and sit down in the first available seat. I look around at all the different faces, and I can’t help but to wonder if something similar is happening with them.
Growing up, I had very minimal friends. In fact, I had no friends. I was pretty much a social outcast until my junior year of high school. I had been going to school with the same people for years, and no ever looked twice at me. I was hideous and overweight, and my family was broke. I lived in a trailer, for Christ’s sake. I spent as much time as I could, dancing at the studio in Boulder, because it was my escape from the loneliness of being at the bottom. Well now, I’m not at the bottom. I’m not broke, hideous or overweight anymore. Hell, while I am a bottom, my friend’s call me a “bottom on top”.
But I still have that very familiar feeling of being alone. Here I am exuding success, and suddenly I realize that I’m not as high up as I thought I was.
Sometimes, when you work for something hard enough, you actually get the desired result. That’s not the case with me. Nothing is ever handed to me, not that I would want it to. Every so often, I would like things to go in my favor.
Every so often, I would really appreciate a friend.
Matty B.
The past week has been over saturated. The Highs, the lows, the colors, the grays; when it was good, it was great. When it was bad, it was fuckin' ugly. All I can say is that I did NOT get the R&R that I needed. I did however, see the true colors of my friends, and have an absolute blast.
The sky has been a miserable melancholy gray for the past few days. Between the rain, the wind, and the browns of the trampled fall leaves, the city has been wallowing in its’ own self pity. As I sat under my white and green Lacoste umbrella listening to my iPod, I realized that sometimes, you have accept the fact that sometimes things aren’t always what you tell yourself they are.
I sat there looking at the world around me, the cold black streets, the dark grays and browns of the surrounding buildings. Maybe its pessimism or maybe it’s a moment of clarity, but Denver isn’t so amazing. Life isn’t as amazing as I keep talking it up to myself. I’ve been trying to convince myself that if I work myself to the bone, get in with the right people, wear the right clothes, make enough money; things will get better for me.
I went to my first 21+ night, at TRACKS, on Friday. There were maybe four people there. Okay that’s a bit of an exaggeration; however, there couldn’t have been more than 50 people there. At the hottest gay club in Denver, there were only 50 people? It was definitely a shocker and a let down. I heard Saturdays are the night to go, but was still hoping that it wasn’t the pathetic excuse that is undoubtedly was. I however, still had a blast because I had a few drinks and a few rides on the mechanical bull, with my very dear friends (and Lesbian Mafia), Bri, Rae, and Ange.
When I text Eric that night letting him know, I got no reply, as usual. It seems that more and more, he’s been screening my text messages. In fact, I can’t remember the last time he’s actually text me back. Oh yeah, he text me back on Friday, when he cancelled on me to sporadically drive to Longmont to hang out with a friend. You know, I keep talking him up to myself. I keep talking up all my friends to make them so much better than they actually are.
I suppose I wouldn’t be as upset as I am about being blown off, if it didn’t keep happening. It’s not just him, either. My friends just think that they can say one thing, and do something completely different. Maybe it’s the people I’m choosing to spend time with. Maybe I’m too easy going, and let them think its okay to blow me off. Either way, it’s fucked up, and it’s getting old. Fast.
The bus comes, and I step up, pay my fare, and sit down in the first available seat. I look around at all the different faces, and I can’t help but to wonder if something similar is happening with them.
Growing up, I had very minimal friends. In fact, I had no friends. I was pretty much a social outcast until my junior year of high school. I had been going to school with the same people for years, and no ever looked twice at me. I was hideous and overweight, and my family was broke. I lived in a trailer, for Christ’s sake. I spent as much time as I could, dancing at the studio in Boulder, because it was my escape from the loneliness of being at the bottom. Well now, I’m not at the bottom. I’m not broke, hideous or overweight anymore. Hell, while I am a bottom, my friend’s call me a “bottom on top”.
But I still have that very familiar feeling of being alone. Here I am exuding success, and suddenly I realize that I’m not as high up as I thought I was.
Sometimes, when you work for something hard enough, you actually get the desired result. That’s not the case with me. Nothing is ever handed to me, not that I would want it to. Every so often, I would like things to go in my favor.
Every so often, I would really appreciate a friend.
Matty B.
Thursday, September 06, 2007
Sick and Tired of Being Sick and Tired
My phone rang at 10:15am this morning. My hand surfaced out of the deep red sea of comforters, and lazily sought out whatever was making such a wretched noise, at such an early hour. Heather told me to get my lazy ass out of bed, and to join her and Beth downstairs at Panera Bread, for a bagel.
A pair of knit sweats, a Lacoste undershirt, and an oversized pair of white sunglasses later, I was munching on an asiago cheese bagel with light spread. I knew I looked a mess. It was almost embarrassing to be in public looking the way I did.
After I went back to my apartment, I hopped into the very inviting shower. I sat there for a moment, just thinking about everything that has happened over the past week. In response to my resignation at Melt, the owner offered me a pay raise, to stay for a month, and hire two people to replace me. We talked it over, and he admitted that he had been over working me, and underpaying me. I agreed to help him out, and we decided I would stay until October.
When I was on my two-hour break in between jobs, Aimee and I went toDiedrich’s Dazbog to get some coffee, and get away from the mall. Afterwards, we went to Cheeseman Park, where we just laid in the grass, and talked. She said she didn’t know how I did it. Working two three jobs, going to school, and managing time with friends… told me of her mother’s concern. I re assured her that I was going to be okay, rolled onto my back, and took a deep breath; breathing in the fresh smell of a grassy vacation.
Eric and I went to dinner at the Cheesecake Factory two nights ago, and it was absolutely delightful. We got to talk about everything that’s been happening over the past few weeks, and really get to reconnect. We made plans to hang out this weekend, and I am more than thrilled to do so.
I’ve felt so incredibly overwhelmed by the constant chaos that’s been fueling my life recently. Every morning I’m up at 8am, and every night I get home at 11:15am. Work all day, and utter exhaustion by the time I hit my pillow at midnight. I haven’t even been able to think about guys, dating, fucking, anything. Hell, I’ve barely been able to keep up with myspace.
Being disconnected from the world has completely segregated me from all my friends. It’s a lonely life, working all the time. More often than not, I’ve found that I’m always feeling alone, and depressed. Sitting on the bus, on my way home is the worst. Being plagued by exhaustion plus feeling completely isolated emotionally, is almost unbearable.
I step out of my shower, and the Muffs “Kids in America” start to play. I pat dry my face, pull on a graphic t-shirt, girl jeans, and my trade mark sunglasses. There’s no way I’m going to let myself fall into a funk. I’m young and I’ll bounce back from this! I have to. I will.
As I step outside, I realize how beautiful today is. I’ve spent weeks cooped up inside, and I could never take the time to appreciate the beauty around me. Why ruin my ONLY day off, by worrying and fretting over work?
I may have her sense of humor, her hair, and her eyes, but I am not my mother. And I am going to make the best of my days.
Matty B.
My phone rang at 10:15am this morning. My hand surfaced out of the deep red sea of comforters, and lazily sought out whatever was making such a wretched noise, at such an early hour. Heather told me to get my lazy ass out of bed, and to join her and Beth downstairs at Panera Bread, for a bagel.
A pair of knit sweats, a Lacoste undershirt, and an oversized pair of white sunglasses later, I was munching on an asiago cheese bagel with light spread. I knew I looked a mess. It was almost embarrassing to be in public looking the way I did.
After I went back to my apartment, I hopped into the very inviting shower. I sat there for a moment, just thinking about everything that has happened over the past week. In response to my resignation at Melt, the owner offered me a pay raise, to stay for a month, and hire two people to replace me. We talked it over, and he admitted that he had been over working me, and underpaying me. I agreed to help him out, and we decided I would stay until October.
When I was on my two-hour break in between jobs, Aimee and I went to
Eric and I went to dinner at the Cheesecake Factory two nights ago, and it was absolutely delightful. We got to talk about everything that’s been happening over the past few weeks, and really get to reconnect. We made plans to hang out this weekend, and I am more than thrilled to do so.
I’ve felt so incredibly overwhelmed by the constant chaos that’s been fueling my life recently. Every morning I’m up at 8am, and every night I get home at 11:15am. Work all day, and utter exhaustion by the time I hit my pillow at midnight. I haven’t even been able to think about guys, dating, fucking, anything. Hell, I’ve barely been able to keep up with myspace.
Being disconnected from the world has completely segregated me from all my friends. It’s a lonely life, working all the time. More often than not, I’ve found that I’m always feeling alone, and depressed. Sitting on the bus, on my way home is the worst. Being plagued by exhaustion plus feeling completely isolated emotionally, is almost unbearable.
I step out of my shower, and the Muffs “Kids in America” start to play. I pat dry my face, pull on a graphic t-shirt, girl jeans, and my trade mark sunglasses. There’s no way I’m going to let myself fall into a funk. I’m young and I’ll bounce back from this! I have to. I will.
As I step outside, I realize how beautiful today is. I’ve spent weeks cooped up inside, and I could never take the time to appreciate the beauty around me. Why ruin my ONLY day off, by worrying and fretting over work?
I may have her sense of humor, her hair, and her eyes, but I am not my mother. And I am going to make the best of my days.
Matty B.
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