Boy, do I have some Tales to Tell...
Tuesday, February 24, 2004
 
As many of you know, things bother me. Certainly, a lot of things about the gym bother me. Lack of air conditioning, broken equipment, poor staffing: it all bothers me. But this all pales in comparison to the fact that the leader of the country that I immigrated to AND became a citizen of AND gladly & willingly pay taxes to BOTHERS me.

I am concerned that George and Laura Bush don't think that gays don't deserve the same rights as heterosexuals. I am very concerned that the Bushes think that being gay is so lowly that they want to make it unconstitutional for us to receive the same rights as any other human being who lives in the USA. Isn't that what gay marriage is really about? What we really want is to have the same rights that heterosexuals get when they get married. That's all. That simple. We just want to be treated like the rest of the human race which we happen to belong to. We don't want special treatment. We don't want different treatment. We just want what all other human beings who get married are allowed to get when they do get married.

Why do George and Laura think that we don't matter? Why don't they see us as human beings who contribute to this world equally as the rest? Are George and Laura really that ignorant that they can only think that marriage is between a man and a woman? Fine let it be legally defined as between a man and woman. Then change the laws allowing for civil unions between both homosexuals and heterosexuals. Marriage used to be the way society defined how two people entered a legal and loving partnership. That is no longer true. Our world has changed.

What bothers me is that the country that I belong to and which I contribute to is run by someone who considers me second-class. It bothers me that he may get re-elected. It bothers me that the most-likely Democratic Candidate for the President also does not believe in same-sex marriages. Where is the world who watches Queer Eye and Will & Grace? Where is this supposed world where homosexuals are allowed to exist with the same rights as others? Someone please tell me so that I can move there. Later.
 
Sunday, February 15, 2004
 
Happy Day-After-Valentine's Day!! Yesterday was my six year anniversary. Yes, yes, I know. My anniversary is on Valentine's Day. How sickly sweet. We met during one of my STEP aerobics classes. I was the teacher and he was a student with tons of questions about getting into better shape. To be honest, we actually met before Valentine's Day but we have both agreed to calling February 14th our anniversary because of the following:

Six years ago, I went to the NYSC in Scarsdale, New York to co-teach two Masterclasses (A body sculpting class and a STEP class). It actually took my co-teacher and I about 45 minutes to drive up to Westchester County to start teaching at 8:00am. It was Valentine's Day and we decided to call the classes "The Sweat (not Sweet) Workout". My friend Bobby taught most of the Body Sculpting Class and I was to teach most of the STEP class.

So, after Bobby had finished teaching the Sculpt class, I was preparing to teach the STEP when Bobby started excitedly saying, "Look! Look!". I responded, "Bobby, I am trying to set up my mic!" He then said, "Turn around and look, NOW!" I turned around and there he was. My beloved had come to Scarsdale all the way from New Jersey to take my Masterclass as a surprise.

He had to take the Path Trains from Jersey City to Manhattan, take the Subway from West 34th Street to East 42nd Street/Grand Central Terminal, take the MetroNorth Rail from Grand Central to Scarsdale, then take a taxi from Scarsdale station to NYSC. I'm not sure if I stopped smiling. All I know is that I must have exuded happiness because for years after that class, some of the students drove into Manhattan every Saturday morning to come take my class.

Prior to him, none of the other men I dated did anything quite amazing. Let's just say I was impressed. So, six years later, here we are. Thanks to the gym. And you know what, even if for some reason we don't stay together, Valentine's Day will always be special. Later.

 
Wednesday, February 11, 2004
 
I've often wondered if the Women's Lockerroom has the same uneasy feeling as the Men's Lockerroom at the gym. Do Ladies have the same sense of "anxiety" that most Men's Lockerrooms have?

"Anxiety" can mean several things. There are times when I feel that the lockerroom is just one big gay porn film waiting to happen. The place is hot, humid, and heavy. All kinds of skin exposure is going on. Men just wiping their freshly exercised bodies dry of either sweat or water from their hot, steamy shower. Bending over to wipe their lower extremities with all kinds of appendages dangling here and there. All it's going to take is one couple to start touching each other and... OY!

"Anxiety" can also be when men are nervous about being in the lockerroom. Like the guy who keeps his towel around his waist as he tries to slip his underwear on or off despite the fact that he can barely keep his balance. C'mon give me a break: if your dick was that interesting, we still would not look. Or the guy who bumps into you and still won't say excuse me or make eye contact for fear of you trying to pick him up for a quick one in the steam room. Yeah, like that ever really happens. (Note to straight men: if a gay man checks you out, you're still hetero. If you suck his cock in the shower stall, then you're gay.) Plus, when did it become offensive to look at someone? It's offensive to lear and salivate at someone. But checking out your fellow gym member's ass is not a crime. Hell, I feel priveleged if someone continues to look at my fat ass.

Is this "phenomena" just relagated to Men's Lockerrooms or do Women share the same "anxiety"? Is it just city gyms or are the gyms in our suburbs similar? These are the things I wonder as I slip out of my tight spandex shorts and jockstrap. Just wondering. Later.
 
Friday, February 06, 2004
 
Can one get too old for the gym? The other day, while teaching class at a gym in Chelsea, I all of a sudden felt old. Not old and decrepit. I still think that I am in better shape than a large amount of the gymrats. I just felt that I was no longer one of the younger ones at the gym. Some of the "new faces" look like they belong in middle school.

Maybe it's the fact that their skin looks so vibrant and supple. Mine looks "lived in". I don't think that is bad. I like the fact that I am beginning to look mature; I spent most of my life being labeled as a "young one". Finally, I feel like I am being taken seriously.

Maybe, it's the fact that I don't dress like them. I just find it unnecessary to wear a knit winter cap while working out. I don't have the latest "in" gym wear. I just can't see paying a lot of money for the latest Nike Dry-fit stuff. I kinda like my spandex gym shorts and tight sleeveless tee.

Maybe, I am just older. I just turned 34 and I think that becoming more than one-third of a century old qualifies me as "not a young one". Maybe. Later.
 
Wednesday, February 04, 2004
 
I am horrified. Absolutely horrified. While serving lunch at the private school cafeteria I cook for, I overheard some 8th grader metion that he was "doing Atkins". After recovering from shock, I began to wonder what media and and it's sources are doing to upcoming generations. It seems like we went from one extreme to another: Over-eating to excessive restriction. Should kids in grade school really be "dieting"? More importantly, what are parents teaching their kids? Do today's parents realize that their actions speak louder than words? Remember those public service announcements where the child tells the father that he learned to smoke pot from him? Maybe we need to have the same things for eating habits.

I am tired. I am very tired of hearing the general public talk about reducing the number of carbohydrates they intake. Overall, I guess this is fine but the wording is scary. Rather than talk about reducing your "carb intake", talk about eating a more balanced meal. Better yet, GET YOUR FAT ASS TO SOME EXERCISE, QUICK! Is the problem really what we eat? I don't think so. Some of the people I know eat anything they want and yet still are very healthy. The bottom line is: as long as you have some form of regular exercise, you can intake almost any type of calorie within moderation. I myself enjoy crispy chicken skin once in a while. I certainly don't make a meal of it. Secondly, I make sure that I get some execise on a regular basis.

I am disgusted. I am disgusted that as a society, we always want to find the "band-aid" for our actions. We go on the South Beach Diet because somewhere in our past, we forgot about portion control. We cut out entire food groups because we think it will help us achieve our health goals in one-fourth of the time. We attend the gym religiously for two weeks in January because we think it will make up for being absent for the past two months. We sue, protest, and boycott because we don't really want to admit that we do have control over our actions.

I wish I could have told that 8th grader's parents to take their horribly disgusting tired fat ass to the gym, stay away from the Hagen Daaz, and start being a good example to their children. Later.
 
I'm just writing down some of the things that run through my head.

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Location: New York, New York, United States

Eating up the City before it eats me up. I'm a freelance cook who spends his free time working out, cooking for "my man", and wondering why the Right is so concerned about my bedroom.

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