Cleaning day

I took Friday off to clean my apartment, which is something I do from time to time, though I do find my efforts futile in a way. I spent the whole day taking recycling downstairs, doing laundry, putting away clean clothes, and throwing things out. I also did two hours of cardio - an hour on my stationary bike, and one hour on the treadmill at the gym. While exercising, I sped-read my way through four months-worth of old New York Times's that I had stacked on my computer, and which had become an oppressive mountain of late. When newspapers stack up like that, I am consumed with terrible guilt - as a book publicist, I know that there might be some tidbit in one of the papers that I could parlay into a booking for one of my authors. So I can't bring myself to throw them out! That's why, when I finally got to the bottom of the pile, I was reading a New York Times from October 30, 2010. Once, a long time ago, I threw away an even bigger stack of papers and magazines that I had been saving in a plastic tub - at Vicki's suggestion - and I cried myself to sleep that night, and have been haunted ever since by what I might have found, what I might have been made to believe.

After a hard day like that, what better way to unwind than with a terrifying movie in which a hard-working book publicist is stabbed to death and then dumped off a building? That's why I went to see "Scream 4" with Chris and Kirk. Here I am, wearing a Helmut Lang t-shirt I'd found that day on the bottom of a drawer, along with my "punk-rock" pants from John Varvatos. If I ever get stabbed to death and dumped off a building, I hope I'm wearing Helmut Lang. What a fabulous way to die.

Slobber on the neck

What a good sport Oliver is! I wanted to blog about the Gee Henry / Sarah Hall / Richard Milward show so that my cousin Alyse would feel bad that she didn't get there on time. And I wanted to make her jealous, too. So I slobbered on her boyfriend's neck! He's a good person, with a good sense of humor. I'm still wearing Helmut Lang in this picture. I don't remember what Oliver was wearing, but I hope it went well with slobber.

Seen in the audience at a Richard Milward/Sarah Hall reading

I decided to come out of retirement and play a couple of songs as "Gee Henry" at a British-themed Richard Milward/ Sarah Hall reading. Here were three ladies in the audience. I won't give their names, because I work with them, but I love them! I want to hang out with them after-work, but my one invitation thus far, to a dance thing at Juilliard, illicited no replies from any of the three ladies. I will keep trying, though. As a publicist, and as a middle-aged man in the gay mileu that is NYC, I am quite accustomed to rejection! The reading was held at the Slipper Room, a venue that is heavy on burlesque performances. As a nod to the venue's history, I wore a black, see-through shirt made by Helmut Lang. (I've had that shirt for ten years and have only worn it twice! What price, haute couteur?). And what a strange evening it was. I chose to sing two songs about topics that I and the authors share a fascination for: drugs and skin. And I refrained from over-sharing about my people (the Antiguans) long and complicated relationship with the British, which was probably for the best.

Weirdly zippered shirt

Wore my inexplicably zipped Helmut Lang shirt. Asked my most recent, but over, crush to take this photo, and he did. My crushes don't last as long as they used to these days. These days, if I like someone, I get their number and wait 5 days, then leave them a voicemail. But then nothing happens. It took a long time for me to learn that you're supposed to wait 5 days before calling someone if you like them. Maybe while I was learning to play that game, everyone moved on to a new game?

Ran into Menalik, too, on the day I wore this shirt. Earlier in the year, he told me he liked my jacket, and I was so happy - I felt as if he was accepting me on behalf of the younger, effortlessly fashionable, generation. The kids have finally tuned in to my look. In much the same way, during our last lunch, when movie star-handsome Matt from Out magazine gave me a hug, I felt as if the gays had finally accepted me as one of their own.