The club was packed full. I hadn’t ever heard of the headlining DJ, so I spent most of my time on the roof deck, having drinks, and laughing with friends, while music from the billboard charts, were remixed and blared from the speakers. In fact, I didn’t spend any time listening to the music. Saturday at Vinyl was about me and my friends having fun, and letting loose. It was an opportunity to escape the gay scene, and spend time with people I really cared about.

The first thing he said to me was, “I’m cool with gay people. My friend is gay. I’m cool.”

I looked up from my drink, and raised my eyebrow at him, challenging. I replied, “Is that so? Well I’m glad you feel that way. I on the other hand, don’t have a taste for them, as a whole. I try to look past their sexual identity, and know the person behind the dick.”

He smiled. “I like you,” He said with a wink.
I laughed. “I figured you would.” I replied, as he sat down next to me.
“I’m Ortiz” He said.
“I’m Matty Beautiful”
“And you are.”
“Do you read my blog?” I said with a slight sneer.

Five minutes later, as I was finishing the drink he bought me, he introduced me to his four friends, that were coming over. Apparently, they were in the Navy, and on leave for a few days. I couldn’t help but laugh, and think to myself, of course they’re on leave. How convenient. An hour passed, and two of them latched on to my girl friends, while the other three boys talked to me, and posed for myspace pictures.

I felt Ortiz’s hand on my thigh, as we all positioned ourselves for the extensive amount of pictures Kara wanted to take. Apparently it was an oddity to my friends, how i managed to shmooze boys, even at one of the most notorious straight clubs. I was actually surprised myself, considering that I’ve been to Vinyl a hundred times, and hadn’t have this kind of luck. I also haven’t had huge blonde hair, so perhaps that played a little roll.

We went downstairs to the main floor. My fabulous friend Ms.Easy was dancing on a box, and yelled down to me. I reached up and gave her a hug. When I turned back around, I wasn’t accompanied by just Ortiz, but his two friends as well. I raised my eyebrow, and thought to myself, well this will be interesting.

I was the only person in my group that walked out of the club with a grin on my face. The disgruntled girls trudged behind me, jealous. I couldn’t help but smile. I ran over to Kara, grabbed her hand, and we drunkenly skipped and danced through downtown.

I sat down in the car, and closed my eyes. One hand on my back, one hand in the back pocket of my jeans, one hand on my neck, and another on my thigh. A soft kiss on the lips, in a crowd of rough people dancing. Hot breath in my ear, those drinks really started to kick. Both arms up, my body dancing side to side, smooth stomach exposed..

The car stopped, and my eyes jolted open. Kara was laughing at me. Apparently I was snoring like no one’s business. I laughed as I stumbled out of the car, and fumbled with my keys. I lied in my bed, and fell asleep instantly.

Satisfaction.

My gay friends always ask me how I “bag the straight guys”. To be completely honest, I have absolutely no idea. I think it’s because I don’t pretend and try to be this macho Abercrombie guy. I have feminine qualities about myself, that come completely naturally, and I think that those appeal to straight men. I always have my face on, and clear, perfectly air brushed features will attract anyone.

Don’t get me wrong, I frequently get the brunt end when it comes to my mannerisms. It’s frustrating when bitches at the club talk really loud about how their man doesn’t need make up to look gorgeous In reality, a little concealer would help with their patchy, red skin. As for those girls, I would be jealous too if I wore Claires eye shadow and NYC eyeliner. How embarrassing would it be to see a boy with better make up than you? Very.

While I may get a lot of shit from a lot of people (friends included), I think I’ve found a really happy medium: noticeably wearing make up, but not drag queen or tranny. What’s wrong with a boy being beautiful? Not a damn thing.

Push me. And then just touch me. ‘Till I can get my satisfaction-“

Matty B.

“New York City! I Be The Mother Fuckin’ Greatest! Work It Out!”

I was reading the headlines on the CNN website this Wednesday afternoon while at work, and in the center of the page, was a story detailing the increase of visitors to New York City. Considering my love for the city, I had to click the link and see what all the fuss was about.

“Forget the Empire State Building. Some New York tourists are eager to see the city's other landmarks: Carrie's stoop, Charlotte's gallery and that restaurant where Samantha threw a martini in a boyfriend's face.”

The article was about how people all over the country, were paying thousands and thousands of dollars to book vacations, where they could lead the “lavish” lifestyles of the characters from Sex and the City. One vacation company even offered a four-day stay in a four star hotel that included, dinner at restaurants frequented by the SATC characters, shopping at their favorite boutiques with personal stylists, and the option of Botox injections.

As I finished reading the article, I sat there screening it, smiling to myself. I couldn’t help but to think of my own experiences in New York City. I think that you should always create your own adventure, when you travel somewhere distant. I remember the excitement of getting on the wrong train, the relief and relaxation of finally getting to my destination.

I stared off flying into Boston. Ashley and I thought that it would be cheaper to fly there, and then take a train to New York. Plus, we’d have the opportunity to see more than just the city, and it would feel more like an adventure. And it was.

I was there over a year ago, but I can still feel the buzz when I think about it. Waking up at 7:30am to get an espresso from Central Perk (yes, it exists), walking through the littered streets of the city all day, followed by lunch at Moonshine Café (where the character Mary Jane, from Spider Man, worked). My days were filled with little adventures. I never did the same thing twice, because I had too many opportunities to try something new and different. It was my first time experiencing a world outside of Colorado. I jumped at every new opportunity, and gladly took every wrong turn; always finding a new and exciting adventure.

Everyone warned me that I would experience culture shock, because I came from a mountain town, in the middle of a land locked state. They couldn’t have been more wrong. From the second I arrived, I knew that it was going to be the city that I wanted to spend the rest of my life in. The vibrancy of the colors of the people that lived there, and the thick, rich culture that surrounded you, was inspiring.

I dreamed of moving there as a child. I always knew that I would be bigger and better than the tin can that I grew up in. I look at my top friends on myspace, and have a sense of respect and admiration for the people that I see. People like Brett Ellis and Clint Catalyst really inspire me to be a unique, honest, and expressive person.

While I may love the indi-pop culture icons, I know that I have my own name to make in that world. Considering I live in a city and culture completely that’s vapid of original thought or individuality, I think that I’ve made an admirable impression.

How can you make a splash, if you’re stranded in a cultural desert?

“The skyline looked like crooked teeth-”

Matty B.

"The Flower Said I Wish I Was a Tree, The Tree Said I Wish I Could Be, a Different Kind of Tree.-"

There’s something cleansing about an early morning rain. When I woke up this morning, I couldn’t help but feel a little refreshed, after taking a long hot shower. After toweling off and selecting my outfit from my closet, I turned to look outside to asses the weather. Wet. There’s a tree that grows in my neighbor’s yard that branches out right up to my window that drooped lazily under the weight of the freshly fallen rain.

Sometimes I lie in my bed and look out the window, and think about how I used to play in this old tree house when I was a kid. It’s easy to wish life was that simple, again. Getting mad when mom made us stop playing groundies on the play ground to come in and go to bed, or waking up early, because we knew my older brother CJ was going to come and visit us.

When I was a little kid, I always dreamed about growing up, and getting as far away as I could, always desperately trying to escape the clutches of my crazed mother. Little did I know, with adult hood came adult responsibilities and adult feelings. In a matter of years I went from hide and seek in our yard, to hiding from ex-boyfriends, and seeking new ones, at the club.

I’m not playing in a completely different fantasy land, though. I’m living in a world, where people are pretending that they are celebrities, and lead this fabulous, gaudy, luxurious lifestyles. In reality, they’re just sluts, and have fucked everybody. My mystical back yard has broadened to Cheeseman Park, the club scene, and house parties. I’ve just traded my super hero powers for the power of persuasion and gossip. Now, the dragons I used to battle as a kid have grown into skinny white boys that wear knock off Burberry, and drive their mommy’s convertible.

I thought by dating someone a bit older than I normally do, I would find someone that had more substance, and lived their life down here on earth. What I found, was a little too much substance.

He was smart, funny, very clearly successful (judging by his convertible BMW, his Dolce and Gabanna jeans), but I just didn’t feel that spark. He was significantly more educated than me on current international events, and considerably more traveled. Then again, who isn’t? I’ve only had to opportunity to leave Colorado once. It’s a challenge to gain worldly experience when you’re land locked in state full of heterosexual Caucasian Christians, who think by going to church every week, they make up for their secret methamphetamine addiction and solicited homosexual affairs with prostitutes. Sound about right, Reverend Ted Haggard?

Yesterday afternoon, he drove us to a very inconspicuous Chinese food restaurant a few miles east of downtown, on Broadway. While the food was delicious (it actually might have been the Chinese food I have ever had), I felt like I was Carrie, when a date of hers would take her to a very seedy restaurant that was filled with what she later realized, were married men. I didn’t mind, however. It was private and quiet, where we had the opportunity to talk.

Mere minutes into talking, I knew that I wasn’t quite at his level. This, we both recognized, was because of the significant age gap. (He’s three years younger than my mom… making him 34) As much as I consider myself to be mature and experienced with men (and life), it took someone with his mind to bring me back down to earth. I’ve been living in my own fantasy world, where I thought that I was this smart, educated boy beyond his years, where I considered to know a lot about what’s going on in the world. After being lost in his conversation for a few moments, I realized that I had started slipping into thinking like the every gay man I hate.

We drove back to his house, where we hugged, and parted ways. I sat in my jeep for a moment, thinking about how vapid I must have sounded, talking about indi-pop bands, and the salon I worked for. I stopped at Diedrichs on my way home to grab a non-fat white mocha, and spend some time by myself. It had started to rain, and all I wanted was to sit on the patio, smoke a cigarette, drink my favorite cozy beverage, and watch it pour.

A smiled at the barista’s cute attempt at flirting with me when I ordered my drink, but I was in no mood to play cute little hipster. It was strange. For the first time in as far as I could remember, I felt that I wasn’t intelligent enough for someone. It definitely sent me for a loop, and sparked some inner thought. I thanked him, said goodbye, and left him with a wink and a smile.

I sat on the patio for over an hour, blithely staring into the rain, lost in thought. Here I was, wanting more out of people, and the minute I meet that someone who has more, I am completely overwhelmed. It was almost amusing how I’ve turned into a modern day Goldilocks (platinum hair and all). This boy is too hot. This man is too old. This bed is too small… Well the chair at Diedrichs was just right.

You can call me picky if you will, but I think it’s imperative to be as selective as possible while dating. You can’t force something that’s not right. You have to meet someone that is on the same level as you, otherwise it just won’t work. I’m not ready to have a big adult job, with a fancy car. I don’t want to have to live with the OCD of wearing all designer names, all the time. I still want to get dirty when I play with my brothers, and mess up my credit. I think I need to take a step back, and enjoy being 18 for a while. I can have a fabulous apartment and shiny mid-life crisis car… when my mid life comes. Until then, I’ll be fabulous driving around in a car I can afford, living the life of a teenager.

I guess this fisherman will have to look for younger fish in the sea. (If you can call Denver a sea, that is.)

“Monday, Monday. Can’t help that day.-”
Matty B.

"Clumsy"

The weather today was cold and moist. Snow fell from the sky like large, wet kisses, landing on my cheek and nose. I pulled my scarf around my neck, and wrapped my coat tightly around my body. I fumbled with the keys to the salon, as I tried to balance today’s newspaper, a venti non-fat white mocha, my iPod, and my makeup kit, all in one hand. After resting the contents of my arms onto the front desk, flicked on all the lights, and began my daily routine.

The quiet of the empty salon is calming. I like to come in early so that I can make a daily agenda for myself, and take my time preparing for a busy day. After I empty the dishwasher, count the cash, and complete my confirmation calls, I often stand on the balcony that overlooks the outdoor mall, and drink a piping hot cup of coffee, while I smoke a cigarette.

During down time, I chatted up my friend TC, whom I’ve been mildly hitting on over the past few months. I find that the furthest I get with someone is usually flirtatious texting, and a few dates. I rely a lot on my clever wording and witty banter, which are more often than not; lost on the person I’m talking to. For instance, I’ve been talking and seeing Vad for months, but it never developed into something sustainable. Between my heavy dance schedule/ full time job, and his master’s degree, we just never have the opportunity to see each other. This is a complete shame, because he’s a wonderful man, that I love spending time with.

This of course isn’t an isolated situation. I meet someone really great and fun to be around, we totally hit it off, and then we just drift apart. I don’t necessarily consider myself to be pessimistic. I just would hope that someone could maintain an interest in me past the bedroom. What’s more pressing, is that I have yet to meet someone that holds my interest .
tayranrichardson You just haven’t found the right one!
MattyBeautiful: something to that degree
tayranrichardson (3:38:29 PM): So what else is going on? Are you talking to any boys at least?
MattyBeautiful (3:38:46 PM): I talk to plenty of boys. Nothing seems to out.
MattyBeautiful (3:39:02 PM): just horn dogs usually
tayranrichardson (3:39:21 PM): I totally get that...
MattyBeautiful (3:39:37 PM): it happens. I’m 18, tall, and blonde. That’s what people see.
tayranrichardson (3:40:24 PM): Maybe that’s what you portray
MattyBeautiful (3:40:44 PM): Have you read my profile? Better yet, have you read my blog? I think people will see what they want, regardless of how I try to portray myself.

As I got ready to leave for the day, I thought to myself about what TC and I had talked about. Maybe I’m not portraying myself in the right way. I spend a lot of time evaluating how I am perceived by others, so as to better my character. Maybe the trick is to stop putting so much pressure on how others see me, and focus a little more on how I see me.

Maybe then I’ll see someone worth seeing.

”A girl like me don't stay single for long-.”
Matty B.