I talk to myself a lot

I was walking home from the train the other day and I was thinking about something, I think it was my Old Testament teacher, and I realized I was moving my lips. I then realized I probably looked as crazy as the randomly-shouting street people who hang out near the methadone clinic near my house. It wasn't really a big revelation, but sort of sad that the "crazy" is starting to get out of control. Maybe it's because I don't talk to any people for days at a time and I just HAVE to talk. Who knows.

Is time even moving?

Well, it's halfway through the week, a good solid hump-day, and I'm bored out of my mind. Not because there's nothing to do; exactly the opposite, really. I'm supposed to be researching junk mail for an advertising project (my senior thesis, or "capstone project" in Loyola-speak) but I told myself that I was going to do that after I go to the gym, but I'm putting that off too, just because it's kinda far away. Not that far, only a 10 minute bike ride, but it just feels early to be starting the chain of events that will end with me doing the research. If there was ever a better reason to pointlessly post a blog, I never heard it. Oh, there's also tons of stuff I should be doing for the clubs I'm in, PRSSA and IABC, since I decided it was a good idea to have an executive board position in not one, but TWO student organizations my senior year. Who am I trying to impress? Oh yeah, graduate schools and prospective employers. Regarding employers and this blog, I'm always half-worried that something I write will bite me in the ass, but I'm also half-hoping that someone will read this blog and offer me a job writing for gawker.com or something. I have journalistic cred! I'm taking Reporting and Writing this semester, sees ah canz write storees.

Actually, I really just wrote all this because I took this really cool, semi-anonymous picture this weekend and I thought it would be perfect for my blog. Also Hannah Montana was a repeat (well aren't they all) and so was Ned's Declassified Survival Guide, Law & Order, True Hollywood Stories: ANTM and after that I just stopped channel surfing, it was making me sad.

Fine, I guess i'll go! Unless there are some new blog posts that I've missed..... I'm gonna go check that out.

Don't you find abandoned senses attractive?

Chicago is such a bustling place, it always amazes me when I find another really unique part of town. I was driving around Bucktown the other day, looking for a maternity shop called Belly Dance, but me and my friend got lost and ended up in Ukranian Village. It's a super hipster part of town, and it gave me a really different look at Chicago than the one I get at Loyola's Mag Mile campus and my Uptown home. It's just another reinforcement, telling me I made the right decision to move here. I can't wait until I have a real job and can look at apartments in all parts of town! Not just the cheap ghetto where I can afford to live.

Another story: I chugged three beers when I got home from picking up the supplies for my latest promotion because I was so pissed off at the manager. The dude who I was picking the stuff up from, the manager, took an HOUR AND A HALF to give me a t-shirt, hardhat and box of tissue samples. Seriously, I have shit to do! So I took the edge off with the beers, then I packed up my books and went to class. Needless to say, my notes are not very coherent (or existent, actually) from the first hour of class. Hey, college is almost over and I'm not going to be able to do this at a job, so I thought I'd take advantage of the anonymity of night class. Hell yeah.

My other Site

I accidentally typed in www.gaytoast.blogpsot.com.... see the blogspot part is spelled wrong.... and it took me to some bible site. I thought it was funny.

TIES

I officially have a tie fetish lately. I know I said I couldn't afford second-hand clothes, but I realized that Yellow Jacket is just way over-priced. So what I really liked there were the ties, and now I have bought about 15 new ties from Goodwill (in Kansas on a family visit), a random antiques store and Chicago's Village Discount Outlet. I love them all. Too bad I don't have a job where I have to wear ties. See, that would make it a normal purchasing spree. This lack of practicality makes it a full-on fetish. Anyhow, I love them.

Secondhand Change

Hey I was out walking around Chicago the other day, under the guise of "working" for the magazine I intern at, and I found a really cool vintage store called Yellow Jacket. But, at the same time, I realized I was too poor at that point in time to even afford second-hand clothes. Sad, right? But, I guess it's something that happens in college. I'd rather it happen now than when I'm 23, out of school and don't have the possibility of new employment right around the corner. That's what I've been telling myself lately, that a great job is just around the corner (i.e. after graduation) and I will be making BUNDLE$. Hmm we'll see how that goes.

A month later...

Jeez it's been a month since I was fired and I sort of have a new job? I've been doing the "gigs" on craigslist.com. They pay more than $10/hour and I get to sleep in usually. The downside is that the jobs aren't regular, and I haven't made enough money to pay my rent. Good thing my mother still sends money! Passing out flyers while wearing a bathrobe on Michigan Ave was a pretty fun experience, though. I hope someday I can tell this story to someone and sound like a cool person.

On a side note, I always have great ideas for shit to write about, then when I get on here all I do is write about my stupid job. I'm going to try better. I mean, I'm a single, gay, hearing-impaired, cash-strapped, recreational-drug-using senior in college. Shouldn't my life be more interesting? Really, I'm gonna try.

Ha!

So, I totally got fired from my job. I guess passing out at your desk (which was located in a conference room, not even in a cubicle) is never a good idea. Even if you put a pen in your hand so it looks like you are writing something. Oh, and reeking of alcohol probably had something to do with it too. Whatever, temp jobs suck anyway. They can stuff their own damn envelopes. On another note, I'm on my way to being broke. Yay! At least I still have an unpaying internship. That will prevent eviction! Wait, no it fucking won't. Ah, fuck it. And, this picture is of the door of opportunity closing in my face.

Fabulous!

So, I'm gay. The title of this blog may have given that away, or maybe you thought it was some sort of inside joke, or an allusion to something literary, but it's not. I wanted to put gay in title. And I was eating toast at the time. So that's the story of my blog title. But what I wanted to get into today was how complicated being gay can make things. The other day, my boss (famale, just turned 30, very pretty and fun, not married and works out at the same gym as me) asked me if I had a girlfriend. I don't, so I said no. Then she asked, "Do you want one?" This was my third week at the job, and I totally froze up. How does one answer this in a socially acceptable way that doesn't make the other party feel like an insensitive ass? So I said, "Maybe, who'd you have in mind?" Luckily my boss was only making a half-assed effort to hook me up with her previous assistant and the conversation/topic/issue never got any further than a promise from my boss to give said female my e-mail. (haha, rhymes) So I never had to say anything that explicitly said I was gay. But, why didn't I want to? Maybe it's because I work in the office at a factory where the twenty-odd 40-something men who work there are probably homophobic. Maybe. But I kind of liked the fact that I was not ooozing homosexuality so blatantly that my boss thought I would make a good match for someone she knew. I like people thinking I'm straight! They actually think I'm straight at my other internship as well. We are working promotions at the Gay Pride Parade and my supervisor is falling over himself to make sure I'm not offended that I have to participate in such an event. But why can't I just say, "No! I'm so excited to be part of the Gay Pride Parade! I'm totally gay myself!" It's cuz I don't have any gay pride. Or, I do, but only when I'm part of an anonymous crowd at a parade, or in a notoriously gay neighborhood, or very drunk at a skanky gay bar. I feel like this should bother me? But at least if they asked me outright I would certainly say "Yes, I'm gay." But until then I am thankful for this passport to the straight world where I can be someones sister's blind date and innocently enjoy jokes about a pirate theme for our parade float from "their" side of reality.

... the fairest of them all?

Living in Chicago, the third-biggest city in the United States, is quite an experience. (Yeah, we lost "second-city" status to LA, but only in statistics, not in spirit!) As a college student, I rely on public transportation and my own two feet for most of my daily trips. This is a great way to save money and get exercise. However, it's made me extremely self-conscious about my appearance. Not self-conscious in a shy, don't-look-at-me-way, but self-conscious in a "alright, I probably rate an 8 today, I should work on that for next week!" way. The biggest problem is the mirrored windows that line almost every street in the Loop. When I am running errands for my boss, I can't help but stare at my reflection as I pass by, taking notice how unflattering these jeans really are, how lame my walk looks, how immature my unironed shirt comes off, and how my haircut belongs in the suburbs. It's prompted me to spend way too much money on jeans ($110, ben sherman, availabe at Macy's) and pay someone $50 to cut my hair (salon blonde, on north ave. in wicker park) which is a lot compared to my regular $13 cut at supercuts/hair cuttery/great clips, but less than what my roommate pays for his cut. I've also spent time trying to walk differently. This is the weirdest side effect of living in the city. Its also a little uncomfortable, but after doing it for several long walks on my way to job interviews or to the post office, I can't tell the difference anymore between my regular walk and my "sexy, mature, city-resident" walk. When I switch back and forth I get confused and eventually give up. Can you really train yourself to walk differently all the time? Or does it always have to be a conscious effort? I don't know. But I do know my ass looks better in the mirrored windows when I'm doing my "sexy, mature, city-resident" walk so it pays off, even if I'm the only one who notices. Well, me and the people working on the other side of the window. Maybe one of them will ask for my number soon! haha well not until I start ironing my shirts that is.

Witty title, snarky content

Blogs have become my newest addiction. I can't sit down in front of a computer with an internet connection without checking four or five different blogs to see if there is a new post, even though I just checked before I left the house to go to work/school. And once I get through the cycle of those blogs, of course I check again since in the six minutes that have elapsed, Perez may have found a new pic of Britney or gawker.com has skewered another book review. It didn't used to be like this; my addiction to myspace and facebook seem to pale in comparison of my dependecy on blogs. Let me tell you how it all began.

I started a new job that had me sitting in front of a computer for six hours a day. This was new to me, since I worked at restaurants and retail stores before this. I was a good worker in the beginning. I would diligently input all the data that was stacked in front of me, never straying to the internet fuction of the computer. But one day the pretty blonde who started working with me was staring a pink screen. I was confused; why wasn't she inputting her data?? I glanced over and saw the now-all-too-familiar perezhilton.com logo sprawled across the screen. I asked her what it was, she responded with a fact about the then-emerging relationship of Jennifer Aniston and Vince Vaughn. Intrigued, I signed on. Five pages of celebrity pictures and gossip later, I was a fan.

I could check perez once and day, and that was enough. But then I realized he updated it throughout the day. So i would check twice, then three time, then as often as possible to end the monotony of data entry. It was officially a problem. My checking became so frequent, perez couldn't add pictues fast enough. I needed a new fix. Through some at-work googling, (or is it googleing? google-ing?) I found tmz.com. Then gawker.com. Then gofugyourself.com. Then thesartorialist.com. Then all the blogrolls of these blogs sent me into a blog-reading frenzy that has resulting in the favorites that I now frequent a minimum of five times daily.

And here I am now, starting a blog. And why? Because I ran out of postings to read. So I thought I would blog about it. Is that irony? No, it's the next stage of my addiction. Just watch me start posting five times a day. Actually, you probably won't have to worry about that since I don't possess the wit or snark or grammar to do this that often. But, you never know what horrible depths a depedency will throw you to.