Hello again,
The last time I wrote I think I was still working in publishing, and trying to get an interview at Conde Nast.  Since then? I've changed directions quite a bit.  I have applied to and attended medical school.  I just finished my basic sciences, and at the end of this week am moving to Chicago to start my clinical rotations, and prepare for my boards.  It's been a weird few years, but I was recently asked to provide a website on my resume, and I think FaceBook should be private, so here we are.  I might have to edit some of my earlier posts depending on what residency programs I apply to, but I still think they are funny and convey my waning personality, so for now they stay.  This post I just want to get something up that's current and use this as kind of a journal/update page to mark my big accomplishments.  I generally don't love it when other people tell me about their accomplishments, and well, who'd read it if that's all there was, so I'm going to try my best to find the best way to deal with that issue, but not tonight.  Tonight is just to check in, restart, and say hello.  See you soon!!

Genius on the Other Side?

     So I have a friend and she's out visiting in the bay area,

and while there she tweeted that she's considering making a go at "the lesbian thing", it got me thinking...Maybe I should give straight another chance?  I mean this gay thing isn't really working for me.  Seriously, I don't have a problem with being a homosexual, but the gay scene is so lame, and I live in New York City.  I would rather jump into a wood chipper than show up at any gay bar.  I'm serious you know, every time one's written up as "the best" I turn up ready to find my park of bumble-bee suited mates, and it turns out that by "best" the reviewer meant loudest.  Seriously, I've tried all kinds of gay bars, in every neighborhood, and they are all so weak.  Either they are full of party bois (really? party bois? with an i? it's 2012 and ur still acting like '90's ravers, really?) who call me "Hey Bitch!"; or they are full of middle aged repressed suburbanites who stain their dockers over some ethnic bartender who can't figure out which end of a Boston Shaker is up

(yes, East Village gay bars I'm talking to you); or they have some shameful 40 something bartender with his 'roided out physique watering down drinks and throwing way too much shade at his guests (read: Splash!), or they are sex clubs where hairy old men want to team up on someone while he lays back gyno-style in a sling (...and we're in Chelsea), even the hipster bars are so beat with their foolish looking staff, and overly anxious door people, I just want to be like: "relax you work at a bar, this isn't that important, and stop looking in the mirror" (you were my greatest hope Williamsburg...) and they all smell exactly the same, like a basement full of condoms, which is basically what they are.
     None of these things describe the place in which I want to do my drinking.  Honestly, I don't see how any self-respecting guy could identify with any of these choices.  Unfortunately that means that I don't have a place the hang with other gays, and enjoy their company.  As a matter of fact most of the time being with a group of gays is a deterrent.  I have a friend who does a drag act and it's really fun, and when you're in the mood, she's really sharp and upbeat, but the crowd that she draws is so horrible that I almost never go (and that's not just me, I know a lot of gay guys who are bothered by loud bossy queens...in the crowd, not on stage).  And before you call me self-loathing, or uber-critical, because I don't want to be identified as gay, I'll tell you that I quite love myself, as a mater of fact I'm the most selfish person I know and I wish sincerely that more people were like me; and in terms of being critical of other gays: of course I am, I have to be identified with those people and most of them are an embarrassment.

     I'm not going to lie, I don't have a great record when it comes to gay relationships.  My longest relationship was seven months, and toward the end he told me he'd been thinking about suicide.  I was in school so I wasn't necessarily that attentive, and I broke up with him in order to focus on my MCATs, but still I missed suicidal tendencies, obviously this wasn't a priority.  That's not even the worst of it, I once broke up with a guy because I saw him run while wearing loafers.  Then there was the one who informed me, through pursed lips and cocked shoulders, that I was a very "independent sleeper" (throughout the night I would move further and further away from him), also the time that I fell asleep while a boyfriend told me his "coming out" story--would you have stayed awake to hear that?(SHRUG).   Then there was the guy who got a new dog that was so adorable: his dog ran away...so did I --what, animals have more sense than people.  So I've been gay in New York for over ten years and have yet to meet any legitimately serious guys.  So maybe that's it, huh?  Maybe that's the ball game, we wrap it up and start over?

     The only problem is that I am not sexually attracted to women, oh and also that I would feel bad treating a woman like I treat men, but other than that I'm all set...but I can't go without sex, because I do love it; and I'm from Connecticut, so I can't be in one of these new-fangled relationships where she's cool with me going out every-other Tuesday in order to sate myself (ew)...no, that's not going to work.  Alright, well there goes that idea...
     So I guess for now I'll just continue to hang out with straight guys and women, and just enjoy my nights off.  No such a bad situation, actually sounds quite enjoyable...ah the drinks!

Genius at the Turn

So, it's  a new year, and you find that the first day of it is a day-off.  Many of us have made ridiculous resolutions, and I do believe most of them are, but here's the thing: there's a reason that the new year gets marked with resolutions, there's a reason that it's considered a turning point.  We've just spent the past, what? six weeks celebrating, and eating, and boozing, and now we're back from the holidays and it's January.  It's cold and harsh, there's nothing good on TV, you're broke from buying all the food and booze, and now everything seems gray, but stop your whining, because

                                                                      IT'S A NEW YEAR!!!.

We've just left a season where dreams come true, and hope abounds; the last vestiges of that are New Year's resolutions.  "Don't worry that there's nothing meaningful to look forward to fat-ass, in the new year you're gonna get in shape and find someone to love you", or "So what, you didn't get kissed at midnight, this year you're going to travel, and meet a foreigner who's stricken by your unique looks and he'll sweep you right off your feet, and then you can bring him back here and show all these cunts who've been callin' you ugly, how good that foreign dick is.  So bring your homely ass to Russia, where they fuck mules!"   See?  You can make anything possible with a New Year's resolution about it.  "This year I'm going to fly around the world!"  "This year I'm going to open my own business!"  "This year I'm going to be faithful to my wife!"  No you're not-- but you're gonna spend a LOT of money trying.  

What I'm saying is let's be a little more realistic with these resolutions and maybe they wouldn't fail so miserably.  And please stop making it about finding someone to love you.  I have talked to so many people this season, men and women, who were like "2012 is my year to find someone", why?  What's so mystical about 2012?  It's not even a cool number, it's not a palindrome, or like an irrational number, it's a whole integer---BO-RING, -- and further you know what's attractive about some desperate soul, searching for love?  Nothing.  So stop looking, because I have the answer and it's right in front of most of you, but I like to be able to take credit so I'll be able to say "I told you so..."  The answer is this, one simple resolution that will put you in such a wonderful frame of mind, that your quality of life will only improve: In all facets of life, if you can do something, then you should do something.  That's it, it's the best resolution, and one I've decided to make for myself.  I may be tired after work, but if a friend asks me for drinks I'll go, and I may be counting my dollars after holiday spending, but if a charity I believe in asks me for a little more, I will give.   If I have to stay a little later at work, then so be it.  If I have to commit to something long-range without being certain, then I'll just have to hope it goes well.  It's about the experience. It's a bout a higher quality of life.

Now I understand that as a comic bad instances are more beneficial to me than most people, and I'm a bit more adventurous than some, but not as much as others. The people I know who take the biggest risks, and live without shame are the ones enjoying their lives the most.  I hope to be counted among them, and I hope the same for all of you in the New Year--it's a big hope, but not impossible.  So go for a run, or make a too fancy dinner for yourself, waste an afternoon at the movies, and yes always have sex with whoever you want,











                                                           You can thank me next Christmas!
     

Genius humbled...well almost

    So again I've been away for a few weeks, and of course it's the holidays, so people are letting all kinds of things slide.  This blog will not be one of them!  The reason that I haven't been posting is that I got jumped on my way home Thanksgiving night.
     It took all of ten seconds, and although they didn't actually get anything, thanks to my supa slick fighting skills, I did end up with a black eye, and a pretty swollen face.  This lead to three days off from work to think about my current state of affairs...dangerous territory.  I skimmed the highlights of pretty much all of Elizabeth Kubler Ross'    

          stages of dealing with disaster.  Of course anger was a big one, and then on to sorrow, more anger, then dread.  My friends were great and called me all the time, but I was pretty much alone in my apartment for three or four days before I ventured out into public with my big new face.  It was at some point during those few days that I had an epiphany:  I had gotten beaten up, I had a pretty lame black eye, and my face hurt constantly.  But that was it.  It could have been way worse.  I could have gotten a broken nose, or worse broken teeth, I could have been stabbed, or shot, or even killed.  And I don't mean that as a simple occurence, I had the actual realization that I could have ceased to exist after that night.  It freaked me out.
      I love my brain, though, because over the course of those few days my shame turned to fear, which turned to anger which turned to entitlement, then pride.

 I haven't been physically threatened like that since I was in the Navy, and even then it was usually some weak townie in a bar fight.  You see, I did have a terrible night that night, and a few bad days since, but I got through that.  I know now that if pressed I will react and hit a bitch!  I know what I will do, and that I can handle myself.  So yea, the aforementioned realizations were terrifying, but they have laid way for this excellent confidence.  I'm not saying I would ever want this to happen again, but since it has, I am taking the best parts of it, and I'll leave the rest.  I now wear my shiner like a badge, and although most people don't want to fuck with me anyway, you should see how fast guys at the gym, or ladies in the Duane Reade get the fuck outta the way when I stare at them with my zombie eye!  I'm not using this to bully others though, I just appreciate the reaction.  The best reactions though comes from the hustlers, and the low-lifes that try to hassle you for a dollar or a cigarette, or even more.  It's like word spread from that night, because whenever I'm on my way home now, and they try to stop me, they see it in my face, or more accurately in my eye, that I'll rumble if an asshole wants to come at me, and they'd b dealing with a Super-Hero style ass whoopin' and they don't want any of this, so they just shut-up and walk away.

     So yea maybe it took a few pretty rough moments, and some dark days, but I'm better now then I was before.  So for those assholes who roughed me up, I'm still mad, but a little grateful, because they changed my attitudes, and made me way more self-aware, which is a good thing.   I'm not about to become a vigilante, but I'd consider it...        

Joan Jett w/Foo Fighters - "Bad Reputation" Live at MSG NYC 11/13

This is Joan Jett (yes, the one and only) playing with the Foos at MSG. I can't describe this, just watch and you'll see!

More Intelligence

So I've been away for a while, hopefully the two earlier articles are enough to keep you entertained.  I've been thinking for a while about this article that I'm going to publish it's about turning 30, which I did last week.  Which is why I haven't posted in a week or so.  See my birthday was Wednesday, and my friend Anson's was on Sunday, and this has basically been birthday week.

  My birthday was awesome,
 and Anson's was even better.  Sunday night we went to Foo Fighters

at Madison Square Garden.  The experience was incredible.We were right up front, I mean if I could jump higher I could have touched Dave Grohl.

Why didn't I try?  Anyway there's a clip, which I'll publish, of the Foos with Joan Jett.  It's insane!
So here's the thing: people always give me shit about the crush I've had on Dave Grohl since I was like 17.  I don't know what it is but he's just awesome.  When I saw them the other night I finally got it.  He's great at what he does.  And I don't mean that as a euphemism, I don't mean like wow great, meh.  I mean as in like he's one of the greats, yeah him.  I also feel like he'd go and get drunk and just b real cool about everything.  That's what's attractive.  He's gotta know how good he is, and yet he'll down some Jack and a Natty Light in a minute, awesome.  So even at 17 or whatever I had wonderful taste. This is just another case of me being right.

                                                                             See?!?
-Genius  

Wise-Ass

When I was a kid a child psychologist told my mother that I had ADD.  And basically, they were going to medicate me and I’d be on ritalin for most of my formative years.  They then went on to explain that my hyper-activity, and personality would diminish, and I’d become far less rambunctious, and thus would be easier to deal with.  Thank God my mother’s a bitch, because she basically told them, “No, he won’t be medicated, you’ll just have to deal with him”, I was never put on ritalin or anything else.  Most people I know, especially guys, were informed early-on that they had ADD, and I guess depending on whether or not their moms were bitches, they were either medicated or not.  It’s a slippery slope. (I know adults who will pop an adderal to beat a hang over, that’s true.)  Thankfully my mother mother taught me early on, “drugs are bad” and my creativity flourishes! 

Strangely, it’s not just me, people have always said that my generation was prone to ADD.  Are you serious?! Of course we were, follow this set-up: we first had TV, then cable, then MTV, then VHS, then upgraded from a Walk-Man to a Disc-Man, then Laser Disc, then DVD, finally around high school the world got cell phones, then we got our iPods, then iPhones, then MacBooks, all of this mind you, while still taking the SATs, applying to college, playing high school sports, learning how to drive, dating, drinking, learning how to pack a bowl, and of course discovering the wonders that are the pubescent human body.  Of course we all have ADD!

But, so what?  Maybe ADD is the way it should be.  Who cares if you can focus on one thing and accomplish it, when you can do five things at the same time?  As long as shit’s getting done, right?  For instance I’m writing this blog while I’m at work, and later when I edit this I’ll be at home: probably checking email, watching HULU, and, if I know myself, there will be a window of porn somewhere.  Maybe the phone will ring and I will incorporate it into what I’m doing.  I somehow have become “the Blob” of multitasking--nothing stops me in my tracks, I just incorporate it and move along.  So I’ll have a conversation with my best friend, while writing, and checking scores for the Yankees and the Giants, and ordering a sick new shirt from snorgtees; it would take me too long to do each of these things at their own time, and to be honest I don’t have the attention span.

I’m not the only one either.  Like I said, this is a generational thing.  Look at Occupy Wall Street, they are basically a protest for those with ADD.  When asked what they were protesting by a New York Times reporter, the answer came back, they were protesting the following (and I will summarize, as the answer was about three paragraphs, and well, it rambled): the lack of accountability of corporations, the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, the general state of the environment, and the U.S. Economy, and something about how the U.S. is viewed in foreign countries.  First of all, I agree with them on most of these issues, except the views of foreigners, because, I mean, they’re foreign, why would anyone care about their views?  Seriously though, they are protesting the right stuff, but all at once?  I mean, pick a topic people.  No one can take it seriously when all the protesters are shouting different things.  I had a friend who was in Washington Sq. Park this weekend and almost got arrested, now he wasn’t part of the protest, but he was in the park.  He told me that he heard at least five different chants going on at once.  And these people are serious and willing to get arrested for their beliefs, and yet refuse to coordinate a singular statement.  

It’s not just the message that lacks focus either, I’ve seen signs at NYU encouraging students to go study on Wall St.  Literally, go protest, but while you’re there make the most of your time.  It’s like someone’s mother came up with the concept, “Well you can go down to the protest, but you’d better bring this book along, and do five math problems before you pick up even one sign, and make sure to call me and text me every fifteen minutes so I know you’re safe.”  Done!  24000+ videos on YouTube, mom.  You can just click refresh and see how safe I am.  No joke, people are doing all sorts of things during this protest, streaming and blogging, and posting to YouTube, and FaceBook.  Why would they focus on one thing when they can get tons of shit done at once?

The best part is how stymied the institution is.  I mean Bloomberg’s furious, so are several of the large banks and brokerage houses on Wall St., and the best part is their reaction is very much the same as that psychologist who told my mom that I needed Ritalin: They don’t know what to do, they don’t have an answer for people who just say, “No, I refuse.”  It’s brilliant!  I won’t do what you told me I have to do, and now you have to deal with that.  

If Bloomberg actually wants the protests to stop he should just have the demonstrations crop dusted with Adderall: suddenly you’d have protesters with incredible clarity and need for efficiency, and they’d probably just return to work, but of course that won’t happen so until then, our ADD asses will continue to demonstrate, and write, and blog, and post and change things so that the world better fits us, instead of making ourselves easier to deal with...