Guess Whose Back in the Muthafuckin House...

So… I've not done this in a really long time… I feel like a virgin all over again… I feel like there's so much to say….

1. The last time I wrote was Thanksgiving… I ended up going to Thanksgiving with my ex of sorts… and it wasn't a good time to say the very least… aside from getting the cold shoulder from his then new "boyfriend" I was also touted as a home wrecker by other guest in attendance… nonetheless, he broke up with the "boyfriend" immediately after Thanksgiving… and it's been a rollercoaster ride of sorts as we have tried to navigate and define our relationship in terms of being friends…

2. I moved into a new place… in Harlem… that I really love... I think that having a backyard will greatly enhance my quality of life here in NY…

3. I'm dating… on a serious kind of tip right now… I think it can be a good look for me…

4. Speaking of a new look… I have decided to let my hair grow out some and my summer sexy is in full effect, as I have been hitting the gym like a mad man…

5. I was recently invited to join my first board here in NY and I'm really excited about that…

On the inquisitive side of things…

1. How do we feel about herpes?

2. Can someone tell me the relevance of certain reality shows? I have sat in front of the TV and asked myself what's the point of watching this boring shit.

3. If you are top and your bottom has a bigger "candy man" (that's what my mother called it when I was a child) than you, how does that make you feel? Should you get over it or is it a deal breaker?

4. Is it trashy to have a hickey?

5. I was invited into a threesome… any tips?

6. I feel that masturbation at the gym runs rampant… in the shower... In the steam room… what do you do, join in?

7. There's this movie out called "The New Twenty." It proclaims that "friends are the new family." I love that concept.

8. Leanita McClain….

9. I want to pick up a cause that's center in some way in the black gay community, but my experiences in the past having really been all that positive…

10. Can I get rid of all my clothes and start over???

My Real Life Noah's Arc Episode

Like so many of us, I went out to support the Noah’s Arc movie. Although I have always looked at the show from a very critical vantage point, I still felt some obligation to go out and support. I can’t really say that I thought it was all that great of a movie as I found there to be a number of things that I saw flawed in the film. Many folks love the series and the movies because they say they see themselves in the characters – I for one have never felt that way. So it strikes me as odd that my life at the moment feels like an edited scene from Noah’s Arc.

So after me and my homie lover friend ended whatever it was we had, we decided to be friends. When he broke up with his boyfriend I was there to lend a shoulder and a hand. I would be a liar if I said the possibility of us being in a relationship didn't pop up in my head from time to time. Yet, I had met someone great that I was/am getting to know and he needed time to deal with ending a four year relationship. We would joke about him dating and so on, but it was all in jest and neither of us were really seeing anyone seriously at the moment. Last week we spoke and he was telling me about a guy that he was kind of interested in. I told him he should try it out. Though I found out last night that they been out on a date before he decided to bring him up to me. So today he invited me to have dinner with him and the guy. I feel like shit. Because out of know where all these feelings have come flooding in. Now the question is why wasn't I good enough? I am jealous. I am envious. I am hurt. I feel unwanted, undesired and relegated on to the ranks of a friend not good enough to exist with.

I'm trying to figure out what this all means. Am I in love with this Negro? Damn. I definitely need to work through my emotions. I think that I'm going to go to dinner. Look amazing. Bake a wonderful desert. Be my charming smart self and keep it moving. Let's pray that I don't fall to pieces, cry, cuss anybody out or fight.

At the end of the movie Ricky reveals to Noah that he loves him and he can't understand why Noah can't love him the way that he loves Wade. The resolution - Noah and Wade get married and everyone is happy. Only tomorrow will tell how this one all pans out.

Just Because...

1. So I went to this party an amazing penthouse apartment with views of the city. It was beautifully maintained and the party was really well organized – there was a bartender, the food was catered and the crowd was beautiful. The thing that bothered me though, was it seemed as if nobody was having a good time. Everyone seemed to be too absorbed by their new Gucci loafers or their Alexander McQueen scarf turned ascot. After 15 minutes I was bored and ready to depart. I needed a little something more – something more festive. Am I asking for too much?

2. Do we do sex parties? Is there protocol?

3. I’m going to see the Noah’s Arc movie this weekend, but isn’t the DL Chronicles like a million times better?

4. I thought Miracle at St. Ana was an amazing movie. In fact, I think I’m going to do a throwback look and rock a part like Laz Alonzo.

5. I love Thelma Golden!

6. I joined a book club and the focus right now is James Baldwin.

7. I kind of love the Housewives of Atlanta. It’s such a guilty pleasure.

8. A friend of mine is moving to Atlanta in high hopes of taking the city by storm. He thinks that his NY swagger will have Atlantans dazed and confused. I’m not sure if he knows what he’s getting himself into. Is Atlanta overrated?

9. Author and I used that really loosely, Zane, has a series on cinemax entitle Sex Chronicles, also the title of a series of her best selling books. I watched the first two episodes this past weekend and was under whelmed. The script was cheesy and the sex scenes were whack as hell. It’s really disheartening because black erotica on cable is almost unheard of, the fact that it fails to at the very least be hot is very disappointing. I don’t want to see titties flapping for 30 minutes or listen to the cheesy porn-like music.

10. I lost my blackberry last week. Other than losing numbers I may never get again, I realized that there were a number of not so appropriate pictures that were stored in my phone. I’m just going to shake my head.

11. My birthday is next week. I’ve had a recent obsession with nudity, and I am considering doing some semi-nude pictures for my birthday. I’m not sure if I’m beach body ready though? In fact, I’m not, but I am still excited by the whole idea of it.

12. I’m moving to Brooklyn.

13. I feel a little bit out of touch with all the economic stuff that’s happening right now. I have not felt any changes.

14. When I return to law school I have decided to do a joint program – getting a JD and a PhD. Call me Dr.

15. Happy Birthday Scorpios!

A Bus Ride, A Man, Questions

You never know what you're going to get on the streets of Harlem, especially on a Saturday morning before night has turned into day. Revelers head home after an evening of dance and debauchery with old friends, new acquaintances make there way to dimly lit rooms where they will exchange Hennessey flavored kisses, unbutton shirts rife with tinges of smoke and YSL and devour each other with thrust and groans, arched backs, curled toes and beads of sweat that make a trail down the spine. Oh yes, this is Harlem on a Saturday morning before the sun's arrival. I know, I have been a participant, but this morning I will settle for merely being a voyeur. Make no mistake, it aint all sexy, this is still Harlem, and on early mornings like this one you find folks making there way work - relief for the third shift, doe boys on the corner jockeying for customer and those without homes making refuge in coveys of store fronts and bank vestibules happy for Harlem's brand of peace and quiet. I am on the other hand performing a ritual different from both groups, making my way to catch a bus bound for Washington DC to see someone - a friend certainly - a lover possibly. We had met during a literary exchange on James Baldwin and have been exchanging courtesies via late night phone calls and midday emails ever since. I met eyes with the others on the street that early morning as I made my way to the train. They were just as curious about my early morning plight - urban boy carrying an overnight bag and wearing a Colgate smile - as I was of theirs. On the train I had nagging feeling that I had left something behind - yep I thought - toothpaste and a toothbrush. No worries though, this was easy enough to replace. The train was quiet, half full, and even though there was no commotion going on, you could feel energy at rest humming through the train car. Getting off the train my mind became peopled with thousands of thoughts.

I boarded the bus. My excitement weaned and was replaced by sleepiness, I knew then that skimming the pages of GQ wouldn't be enough to keep me from curling up into a crescent and placing my nocturne head on the window for a 4 hour nap. My sleeping was met with a platitude of teeth sucking and heavy sighs - I snore and find no necessity to apologize for those things that are beyond my control, so these expressions of distain did nothing more than encourage me to rest my eyes a bit. When I arrived in DC I made a mad dash to Starbucks to make use of the facilities, my bladder thanked me. After handling my business, I sent him a message letting him know that I had arrived in one piece. It was a miracle that I wasn't shanked on the bus. He was still in route. Not a big concern for me. I ordered coffee and made small talk with this Asian kid about sneakers. I was really excited once he arrived. We hadn't really made plans and check in at the hotel wasn't until 3. We did a little walking. A little talking. He seemed really tired, which was cool, but at the same time not so much, it makes it hard to wade out whether this tiredness is self-induced out of non-interest or the real deal. We had lunch which provided for a boost from the previous hum-drum. He was beginning to liven up a little bit. Once I checked in we went up to the room and talked and laughed and played. This was more like the guy I had come to know. We both needed a nap. So we slept. It was nice. He lay next to me in his boxer briefs and t-shirt. I was a taste more conservative in sweats and a t-shirt. This seemed so foreign, but at the same time very domestic - safe, at home.

We went out for dinner, and as we waited it became quite apparent that he was the "touchy feely" type. We had discussed, but I'm not sure how one really prepares for that. PDA is really not my thing. So when I suggested he stop, I felt his disappointment. I felt bad, but at the same time I didn't have ill intent and it made me feel uncomfortable. I could see that he was sensitive. If previous relationships had taught me anything, it was that I usually didn't fair all that well with guys or girls that required this kind of attention. I made a mental note. I knew this needed to be addressed. I had requested Busboys and Poets as everyone I knew in DC had made mention of it at least once. It was cool… the service horrible, but cool nonetheless. We walked back to the hotel. I stopped to get a toothbrush. It was nice. Nice to talk to a guy with a good head on his shoulders that showed consideration. He was really nice, smart and attractive I thought. Once we got back to the hotel, I felt my Scorpio nature rise within me. He indulged me, but was tired. I order dessert while he slept. The following morning eager to pick up where I left off, I felt a little let down as I felt that the goal was to please me and nothing else. We headed out and grabbed brunch in Adam's Morgan. He insisted on carrying my bag, I insisted I could take care of it myself. I like a gentleman, but I'm capable. I'm not looking for every door to be held open for me. I wasn't due to leave until seven, so after brunch we went for coffee and hashed out some things. I had a chance to meet his best friend. She was charming and called things as she saw them. I so appreciate that. Before I came to DC there was certainty. At this point I'm left with a lot of questions, some that I need to explore alone, others I need to explore with him. I arrived home after midnight. I was exhausted. And as I walked down that same block in Harlem that I had done many hour before I smiled to myself knowing that whatever happens this was a no lose situation.

Wonder...

"Janie had spent most of the day under a blossoming pear tree in the back-yard. She had been spending every minute that she could steal from her chores under that tree for the last three days. That was to say, ever since the first tiny bloom had opened. It had called her to come and gaze on a mystery. From barren brown stems to glistening leaf-buds; from the leaf-buds to snowy virginity of bloom. It stirred her tremendously. How? Why? It was like a flute song forgotten in another existence and remembered again. What? How? Why? This singing she heard that had nothing to do with her ears. The rose of the world was breathing out smell. It followed her through all her waking moments and caressed her in her sleep. It connected itself with other vaguely felt matters that had struck her outside observation and buried themselves in her flesh. Now they emerged and quested about her consciousness."

This is pretty damn close to what/how I've been feeling this past week or so. Since my "break-up" it's really been about getting back out there on the dating scene. I didn't want to spend days and days rehashing the events of the break-up over and over again. What was the point? As a result, I began to engage a few guys I had met along the way. They were all pretty different. They ranged in age from 22-32. From student to self employed. From feminine to masculine. I had my bases covered. I scheduled dates here and there… bowling… dinner… the park… a concert. It was fun. They were great guys, but I questioned how far we could go. Still I entertained and enjoyed the ride, when out of left field this kind of amazing dude presents himself. He's dope. He presented himself from a friend perspective, which I could so vibe with, but the more we talked the more I wondered into territories that expanded beyond friendship.

The homie-lover-friend called the other day. His boyfriend broke up with him. I listened and let him know I was "sorry." I thought I would get sucked back in… but all I could think about was picking up my conversation with this dude. I regard him with wonder.

Why Emil Wilbekin won't be on the "Do Right Man" List

In recent years I have grown weary of the diluted content in most magazines, especially those that specifically target the African American population. This weekend I happened to pick up a copy of Essence while waiting for my homegirl to get ready for dinner out in the city. It was the "Do Right Men" issue. It profiled black men that are on point in all aspects of their lives. They have it together professionally, they give back to their communities and they are all single (there is a section for married men) and attractive. Why not call it "Straight, Single, Sexy Black Men?" I did mention that all the men were straight, right? I thought for a second that I was maybe being a taste too sensitive, yet upon further evaluation I thought nay. This is Essence that we are talking about here - the magazine that went on a witch hunt, deeming that sisters should be leery because their men could be on the down low. The message that is promoted here is that you can not be a good brother if you fall into certain categories - gay and or unattractive men need not apply - at least that's the underlying implication in my mind. I know the old saying “that all the good ones are gay," which is not true, but when the focus is placed on orientation it almost negates his "goodness." It forces me to call a number of things into question. As black women sound the battle cry that there are no good men - I scream back “Yes, there are, they just may not look like the ones featured in Essence." And really what black women are saying when they say "that all the good ones are gay" is he looks good on paper and that's what I want. The interest isn't on the MTA worker that may in fact be a really good brother. Articles like this are a disservice to black women. It cause them to become entrenched in this Hollywood constructed idea of what you should aspire to have. It also proves to be a disservice to black men, as this "salute" creates a chasm - that "good" is only equated by certain qualities. I guess we shouldn't hold our breath in anticipation for a list that would include Emil Wilbekin or Keith Boykin.

Changing My Password

As far back as I can remember, whenever I'm dating someone, or am in a relationship, I tend to use that person's names as password - be it to log into my email, login at work or as some sort of test question if just in case I forgot a password. I know it sound a little crazy, probably even a little unsafe, but I guess the psychology behind it is that serves as a reminder of that person and your association with them as something special. Whatever the case, this morning I logged in at work, and I was informed that my password expires in 2 days. I had an option to change it now or wait. I laughed to myself because my login is the home-lover-friend's name, and as of this morning our relationship has expired. I always knew I would know when it was time. That I would have to be prepared however the situation went down. I'll spare too many of the detail, but it wasn't the best experience… It was needed though. What I found out was that his was this unsated desire to be at a higher place of enlightenment- knowing and understanding the language, the correct responses and even helping other to explore and examine themselves, all while avoiding the situation himself. How easy it was for him to point out things that I should work on, when he wasn't really willing to do any work of his own. I was made to even believe that I had created this whole relationship… he said that I didn't even have the qualities that he would want from someone in a relationship. He said he couldn't understand why I would even think that he would leave his boyfriend of four years for me. It stung. Yet, we would lie together in his bed; hard flesh pressed against soft, when he needed a listening ear I was there, when he needed financial help I was there - so I was a bit thrown. So you're a user? I was even blamed for "disrespecting" his relationship with his boyfriend - though his licking and tasting, telling me he loved me and inviting me to mother's day dinner were not forms of disrespect? I had misinterpreted it all.

I thought that I would be sad… that I wouldn't be able to get out of bed this morning… that I would cry… but I'm actually ok. I that's not the kind of "love" I want. Despite his methods, he taught me so much and I can only appreciate that. We had begun to work on some things professionally together, so I'm trying to figure out how to resolve these things without there being a lot of complication. I understand my place in all of this. I understand my error. I take it. But when it's so fucked up… it's just that… so fucked up.

So this morning… instead of waiting two days… I change my password.

Ne me quitte pas

I rose early today. It’s the first morning of solitude that I’ve had in seven week after turning my apartment into a hostel it seems. My friend and former ex was my lodge mate for almost two months. I can’t really say that it was a bad experience. We have often that we would bite the bullet and get married if we both were still single at 30. Having share this time in my too small overpriced New York apartment, I don’t think it would be all that bad. We would stay up late nights and talk about everything from Jenifer Hudson (neither of us are fans) to politics to the cute boy behind the deli case at Whole Foods often times over strawberries dipped in sour cream and brown sugar or a bubbling bowl of cheese queso and chips. It was cool. As I looked out into the streets, the overcast sky with the infinite possibility of rain, Nina softly purring Ne me quitte pas and bustle of people scurrying to the train and into taxis the thought of companionship rest heavy on my soul.

Things had been strange. My friend departed and my homie-lover-friend returned from his trip to visit his boyfriend. While he was away, our conversations had been brief but really intense. He told me how much he missed me. I missed him too. There would be moments in the middle of the night where I would want to call. There would be moments where I would run into someone that smelled like him, shared his funny blue/grey eyes or someone that had the same stride of swagger and confidence that accompanies each of his steps. Damn. Pride. Respect. Fear. All held me hostage unable to dial those ten digits.

I went of a little date of sorts on Saturday – cocktails. I followed in up with an invitation to a dinner party on Sunday. I wanted let him know that he fucked me up. That I can’t even begin to imagine my life with someone that doesn’t embodied the qualities that he possesses despite a cute face, fat ass, personality and 401k.

When he got in last night I headed over. Sweats, a t-shirt, a fitted – I was posturing. I wanted him to think that I didn’t care. I should never play poker, because as soon as I saw him the façade melted away. We talked. I didn’t want to ask too many questions. Did you break up with him? I wanted to know, but I was afraid of the answer. He asked me about our relationship and how I defined us to other people. I took the safe route and said friends with possibilities, when in my heart you are my lover, my confidant, advisor, teacher, friend and homeboy. I wanted to lay with him all night. He was nervous. I guess that meant no break-up. I wondered home around 1 – a homeless lover in search of a fix. I wasn’t sure what to feel. I texted the guy from Saturday. He responded with “what you trying to do this late.” My reply was “trying to see you.” It wasn’t truth but I need to purge my pain. What better way than slick skin pressed against each other, warm breath against necks and being inside a place that warm and safe if only for one night. Somewhere between texting and caressing my pillow, I fell asleep. The universe knows what’s right. I checked my phone and his last text asked if I was coming by or not. I responded with an apology this morning – I didn’t want to complicate his life with my shit.

The homie-lover-friend phone this morning to see if I was ok. I told him I needed companionship. He thought he was providing it for me. He is. But at the end of the day I go home alone. I don’t want that. Nor do I want to be a wet memory in between the sheets. I’m going to leave the office early today. We’re going to catch a movie. Maybe I’ll make dinner. Is this situation better than being with someone like the guy on Saturday? Who know anymore?

It’s starting to rain. I want to go out into it and let it wash me like a baptismal spray - washing away the insecurities and the unsure-ness that surround all of this. I don’t want him to leave, but I want all of him.

Damn that Nina Simone.

Studio Museum of Harlem, Dior, Love and Anthony David

Last night I had the opportunity to attend the opening of Kehinde Wiley's The World Stage: Africa, Lagos ~ Dakar, his first solo exhibition at The Studio Museum in Harlem which features ten new paintings from his multinational “The World Stage” series. It's amazing. I'm a huge fan of both Wiley and The Studio Museum of Harlem; the openings for new exhibitions are always something I look forward to. The openings usually draw an eclectic mix of folks - smart, hip, fashionable and trendsetters in their own regard and last night was no exception. The coupling of all this artistic energy and a few cocktails had me in bliss.

I have to talk about my purchase of the month for a second. I found a vintage Christian Dior track jacket this weekend. It's in great condition and a bought it for a steal. It doesn't get much better than that.

Moving on, I must admit that things are going really well with the homie-lover-friend. He's really an amazing man. I have never met anyone else like him. I've always said that my barometer for determining whether a relationship is worth it is "does he make me want to be a better man?" In this case - hell emphatically yes! We've been spending a lot of really good quality time together and merging our business interest as well. It seems to just flow. It may sound really strange, but he's taught me (still a work in progress because I have my moments) how to really love from an unconditional vantage point that's void of insecurity and ego. This means that I'm not seeking anything back in return. In this, his having a boyfriend has less of an affect on how I am able to be in this relationship because I love without the condition that he has to break up with his boyfriend. I know some folk may not be able to feel that, but that's where I am right now. I am also not going to block myself from anything else that may come along at this point. We will have to see how it all falls into place, though the homie-lover-friend has been doing a lot of talk about us settling in Atlanta.

I have officially decided that will not be returning to law school in the fall. I need to really figure out how this works into my life and things that I would like to do. I should probably be in film school or something that really feeds my creative energy. Whatever the case may be, I am in anticipation for greatness.

Lastly, I have had the Anthony David song "Words" on repeat for the last week. Check it out the lyrics really ring true.

Just Because...

1. As an adult, whenever I am visiting friends in another city, I always make a hotel reservation. This allows for my personal independence and space, but it also prevents my friends from having to adjust their lives too much. That said, a couple of friends came into town the other weekend, I informed them that I already had a house guest, but they insisted on crashing at my place. They let me know that it was fine if they "slept on the floor." I was not ok with this, so I insisted they make some sort of reservation elsewhere. It created a tense tone for the weekend. Yet, isn't my personal level of comfort important. This isn't undergrad spring break in Cancun where eight of us crammed into one room. Was I too harsh?

2. I don't really feel that I had any barbeque on the 4th, as I spent the entire time on the grill.

3. I planned a breakfast date for Thursday morning with the homie lover friend.

4. So two weekends ago I engaged in the New York Pride festivities. Actually, I went to parties all weekend - no parade and all of that. On Saturday, at the Atlanta invades New York party, a young man from the adult film industry approached me (he's one of my favorites) to compliment me on my look and to ask for my number. I obliged and took his as well. I have no intention of using it, though I will say that it did do something for my ego to have him approach me. Could I date a porn star?

5. My friends flaked on Martha's Vineyard for the 4th of July holiday.

6. Didn't the whole R. Kelly thing blow over rather quickly and calmly?

7. Fantasia and Lena Horne share the same birthday. For some reason, there is something really odd about that to me.

8. I feel like Ebony missed some key men in there top 25 "cool edition." Who would you put on the list?

9. I am glad to see the William sister back at it. Between clothing lines and dating Common, I forgot that they even played tennis.

10. So to get my mind off of the homie lover friend, my friends introduced me to some nice and rather interesting guys this past weekend. Perhaps I will go on a date with one of them and see what happens.

11. I went to a house party on Saturday and this great brownstone in Harlem. It always makes me feel warm inside to meet black gay couples being progressive.

Love Him?

"Love him and let him love you. Do you think anything else under heaven really matters? “This is by far one of my favorite quotes from James Baldwin. It's been the through-line of my week thus far, that along with "Stay Down" the Mary J. Blige joint. This week, starting last Friday, has proved to be so many things. It seems like me and homie lover friend get closer and closer day by day. The average on looker would have no question that the two of us are partnered. However I have these huge moments of where uncertainty creeps in. I am very intimately involved in all aspects of his life. At this point I am working on a business project with along with him. This has meant for me, meetings with investors, researching real estate and working with consultants on the project. He wants me to take an active role in all aspects and maybe leave my current position at some point. This would ideally be great. This is what you want to do with your partner, but because he is not, I am really nervous and scared. He's currently working on his PHD, I understand his stress level and would love to work full time while he focuses on school, but I feel like I have to have a boundary.

The problem is that my love for him has no bounds, yet the manifestation of it can't fully be actualized as the situation currently exists. How foolish would I feel having done all of these things together and he ends up sharing those things with someone else? I have to safeguard myself, right? The other night we got into a bit of an argument and he said that maybe we shouldn't do this. That maybe we should not be in each other's life at all. I cried (an ugly Oprah cry). He cried. We ended up back at the same place, but even more emotionally open having taken this moment of raw emotion as a conduit for love making. I walked home with the taste of him on my lips more confused that ever. I asked myself if one could really fight for something when there's really not any opposition, only their shadow. I am not doing anything wrong so why am I fighting and who am I fighting.

I am giving myself through the weekend to really access what it is I want and need. I know that it's going to hurt to walk away, but I may have to. I don't want to pretend. I want everyone to know that he's it. I hit the jackpot. That he's all mine. You can have it all.

Just Because...

1. So there is a rap group from Brooklyn, no less, called Thug Slaughter Force whose claim to fame is there disavowal to men wearing tight clothes, as it promotes homosexuality. There first track is dubbed “no tight clothes.” These brothers really got it fucked up, No Homo… lol… check them out if you dare…. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pABR7CoM5uA

2. So I attended New Fest the other weekend, New York’s LGBT Film Festival and saw “Ebony Chunky Love, Bitch Can’t Get a Date.” I thought that I would get some insight into the struggles that face black gay men as it relates to body image, but what I ended up getting was a story of a black man hurt and looking for acceptance from white gay men. I was not impressed.

3. Did you know that Soul Train was recently sold to MadVision, and that we should look for an updated version of the show late this year? Some things are better left as they are, right?

4. A friend disclosed to me that she never had an orgasm… Wow…

5. Please cop the July issue of GQ. The spread of Pharrell is great. I’ve always thought he was hot… but got damn… he gets better with age.

6. Speaking of publications… Italian Vogue is dedicating is July issue to black models… the entire magazine… It’s a most have.

7. Don Imus is at it again…

8. I was listening to Betty Wright’s, “Tonight is the Night.” She asks the audience to think back to their “very first time.” How was your “very first time?”
9. More than one-third — 36 percent — of New York City men who have sex with other men and have had five or more sex partners within the past year do not consistently use condoms. Is this surprising news?

10. So I took the interns out for lunch today…. It really made me feel grown manish…

Love, Heart Ache, Broiled Eel and Chaka Khan

So last Friday I took advantage of "Summer Fridays," the period between Memorial Day and Labor Day, where those in fashion or fashion related industries either work only half day or not at all on Friday. I love it. It may be one of the best perks. My homie lover friend had informed me earlier in the week that he wanted to take me out for a really special dinner. All I had to do was show up. I slept until noon, got a fresh cut and paired my fresh and rested face with a light weight slate grey summer suit, a casual, but crisp, white button down, chucks and a driving cap. I met him in Soho for dinner at Woo Lae Oak - an amazing Korean restaurant. He took the liberty of order for us. We started with Jang Au Gui; broiled eel in a sweet Soy Sauce. The presentation was great, as the ell was served on hot river stones which rested on a bed of sea salt. We followed that up with Korean Barbeque… we choose the salmon and the sea scallops. Each table is equipped with a smokeless grill - so we were responsible for grilling the salmon and sea scallops. They were seasoned to perfection. We added a couple of more dishes to our dinner and ended it by ordering three deserts - tropical snow, a green apple sorbet and a caramelized pear. It was one of the best dates I have had.

Let's fast forward to this Friday, where things have dramatically changed. Although we have spent everyday together since Sunday and they have been great day, emotional, but great, I have arrived at the place where I am no longer interested in being with someone that can't be with me in totality. I can't believe I wrote it… lol. As incredible as he is, I have to remove myself from what I feel to be is an unhealthy relationship. Maybe we just had bad timing. Maybe I needed him to show me what I really want from someone. Maybe you can have more than one soul mate. I'm not going to make some dramatic departure. We bought advance tickets to see films on Saturday and Sunday that are apart of New Fest, New York's LGBT Film Festival. After that I will slowly push back, maybe start dating again and throw myself into a few projects. This situation has allowed me to make some good decisions. Finally telling some of my close friends that I was gay, and finally deciding that the time is now for me to have that conversation with my parents. He is all about music and he exposed me a Chaka Khan song that plays on repeat in my ipod and it sums it all up:

You know it hurts me

When I can't be next to you

And though we're young I know

You feel the same way, too

Deep in our hearts we know

It's just a matter of time

'Cause we'll be together one day

And when we met

Out on the streets along the way

It wasn't by chance that we

Were passing by that day

As sure as there's a moon

And stars above I know

We'll be together for sure

As sure as that nose on your face

We were meant for each other's arms

Just as one and one make two

You were made for me

I was made for you (boy)

Don't try to hide that smile

I know that's on your face

And when you stare (look) at me

I'll look the other way

And we won't give away

What we know from the start

That we've got that love in our hearts

Deep in our hearts

In our hearts we've got that love

In our hearts we've got that love

In our hearts we've got that love

Oh deep down in our hearts

We've got that love

Oh we're very into lovin', yeah

Oh that love in our hearts

We've got that love in our hearts

Oh baby, we've got that love

A Mess

Okay… I don’t like to get too personal on here… but… I just need to write this out… I feel like my life has gotten exceedingly complicated as of late at no fault of my own. So I've been dating this guy since November - my homie-lover-friend. He's great. He's smart. He's funny. He has great friends. He's mature. He's a great communicator. And he's beautiful. I've met his sister and spent Mother's Day with him and his mother. She's from the South, so we connect on so many levels about things he just doesn't get. The issue is that he has a boyfriend that lives out of state. I knew this going into the situation - but I didn't give it much thought - I was dating - we would cross that bridge once we reached it. Needless to say, we have arrived at the bridge. I think that I may really be falling in love with him. That's huge for me. He thinks that I'm not emotionally vested in our "situation" which is partly true, as I am afraid to completely emotionally vulnerable with someone that's not 100% available to me. One of my friends chastises me for even being in this situation, while another feels that I should go with my raw emotion and stop having to be in control. In part, I think that because we are men in a traditional sense, it's hard for either of us to relinquish that. He thinks that I should cook and be in his face every minute. Yet, my vantage point is that my career, getting a JD, community service and my social calendar are important - and sitting around making meatloaf and mashed potatoes isn't what I need to be doing right now. Do I just submit? What should I do?

So to complicate all of this, an ex turned friend is spending a few weeks with me, as he has taken a summer position here in New York. A few weeks are actually six. I let my homie-lover friend know - I left out the part that it's an ex - and he wasn't happy about the amount of time I would have this young man in my space. The ex and I have a long past and both of our emotions run deep. We made a pact to get married at 30 if we were both single. I don't want to turn to him out of some kind of need, but I feel it may be possible. How do I avoid this from happening?

Wreck in the City

Though I am heading for a lunchtime viewing of Sex and the City today (courtesy of my company), a friend of mine surprised me with the purchase of a ticket for the 12:30 AM showing. Although I consider myself to be a fan on the series - these folks were obviously die hard who - having awaited the arrival of this moment since the show's conclusion in 2004. The thing that I enjoyed so much about the series was that the connection - full of candid talks, salty banner, love, men, shopping and of course sex - felt, well, real. What the movie provides is a failed attempt at re-creating the same magic - an end product that is overstuffed with superficiality and materialism, almost raunchy sex scenes and humor more appropriate for films in the "American Pie" genre. The movie was way too long, un-unnervingly predictable and the plethora of subplots made it feel like this was five episodes forced together in an attempt at weaving something cohesive. There was no spirit of freshness - the fact that the characters hadn't changed bothers me, as I expected broader, deeper more nuanced characters - yet I was left with simple contrite characters that could only be lovable to the most devoted. Should we expect more at 40? There was once a time in my life in which a fitted, baggy jeans and timbs were both sexy and acceptable for me or the guy that I was dating at the moment. Yet, as we get older and more mature what was once acceptable; just ain't any longer. The fact that he may still look good in that get-up at 36 doesn't mean that he should wear it. There has to be progression, right? In that same vain this was my expectation for Sex and the City, and I unfortunately, was let down - as a once brilliant TV show, was reduced to nothing more than 2 1/2 of branding for Apple, Louis Vuitton and Vitaminwater.

Just Because...

1. So my homie-lover-friend and I took his homegirl out on a date this past Saturday. She just had a really bad break-up and we wanted to do something nice for her, so I got us tickets to see a play by written by an emerging playwright I really enjoy. Our homegirl teaches theatre, so I thought this would be perfect. I rarely proclaim anything to be amazing. Yet, Tracy Scott Wilson's latest play, The Good Negro is nothing short of it. The writing, the direction and the acting are all pitch perfect. I had my hesitations - a show about the Civil Rights Movement - yet Wilson brings forth a fresh perspective - exposing the tension of the Movement (under the watchful eye of the FBI) brought about by jealousy and alleged affairs in this drama that takes (not explicitly) Dr. King and the Movement to task. Wilson's intent is not malicious. What she does is show a balanced picture - a man who is torn between his duty, obligation and ambitions and his personal needs and desires. Wilson also explores the toll on which all of these things affects wife. There are a number of other sub-themes that help to masterfully construct this fine work. What the audience is left with is broader more human side of what movement was about, as well as some perspective on the government's "interest" in the Movement. It makes you wonder about the "governmental scrutiny" that our first viable Black candidate for president must be experiencing. Please check it out if you are in the city. It runs through June 1st at the Public Theatre.

http://www.publictheater.org/component/option,com_shows/task,view/Itemid,158/id,904

2. Sex in the City opens on Friday. My company is sending us to see it on Friday during lunch. I’m the only man. I would rather go home, than see the movie with a bunch of folks I don’t even care for. How gay is this?

3. I bought a g-shock watch recently. It’s called the “baby g.” During my trip home, my mother asked if “baby g” stood for “baby girl.” I gave her a blank look and burst with laughter. She not funny.

4. Speaking of being back at home, Atlanta wasn’t everything I needed it to be, and on top of everything, I got stood up by friends I really wanted to see. You know who you are. Lol.

5. I watched the DL Chronicles this weekend. I really enjoyed it. It’s so much better than Noah’s Arc.

6. The new Kehinde Wiley Exhibit (I want to marry him) opens at the Studio Museum of Harlem in July. I can’t wait. Wiley, known for his stylized paintings of urban African-American male youths in poses borrowed from eighteenth- and nineteenth-century European figurative paintings, continues that process, this time with models in poses based on regional sources – this time Nigeria and Senegal.

Me and the Mystery Man

Now, I am not one to be shy or be easily intimidated, but for some reason the "mystery man" had me vexed. I ran into him at the opening of an art exhibition about two months ago. We exchanged glances across the room - he mouthed, "Good to see you here tonight" - I replies with a smile - "good to see you too." Never mind the fact that I didn't know who this man was. He looked familiar, but I couldn't place him. My hope was that, if we had met, that my impression had been a good one. While I feigned to be a true art connoisseur, he walked passed grabbing my hand to signal his departure. I was sorry that he had left without a formal introduction. So this past weekend, to my surprise, who did I run into, but the mystery man? He smiled and acknowledged my arrival to the party. I smiled; ran to the bar and hurriedly order a Ketel One and tonic. When I turned to head back in his direction, I noticed a good friend of mine was making small talk with him. I needed some quick info, so I sent my friend a text message. He ended the conversation and came to my aid. He informed me of who the mystery man was. I was impressed (I found out today that he is even more impressive than I had first thought). My buddy let me know he wanted to make my acquaintance at which point I winced; overcome with this nagging feeling of nervous energy that I had not felt since picking teams in grade school. I told my friend I needed to say hello to some folks first and I would talk to you-know-who once I was done. I forced myself in to extended conversations about the music, the housewarming I had just left and the inability to find a decent one bedroom apartment in Harlem for under $1500 - anything to occupy my time. Finally, having resolved some of my angst, I set out to meet Mr. Man, at which I was informed that he had hopped into a taxi only a few minutes earlier. I was half crestfallen; half relieved. Was I intimidated by the mystery man? Did I feel like he was out of my league? What does dating in your league mean? Is it better to date down? Help a brother out. I hear the mystery man will be attending a certain cultural event next week. Maybe I'll drop in?

Just Because...

1. Have you ever noticed that in Missy's "Hot Boys" she says that she wants a "top boy?" So is Missy a bottom? Nah, vers… lol

2. So Barbara Walters likes black D; huh … Barbara Walters now says she had a past affair with married U.S. Senator Edward Brooke. Appearing on "The Oprah Winfrey Show" scheduled to air today, Walters shares details of her relationship with Brooke that lasted several years in the 1970s. In 1966 Edward Brooke's decisive Senate victory made him the first black elected to the Senate in the twentieth century.
3. I know it's not politically correct… but if I'm going to do porn, and by do, I mean watch, I prefer coco dorm circa 2003.

4. On Saturday, we were encouraged to engage in the blackout - spend no money - in protest of the Sean Bell verdict. Any news on how that went?

5. Someone mentioned to me that the only thing worse than no money is new money… at which I noted that America is only 231 year old… so all money… here in America… is new money…

6. I'm kind of surprised that the Keyshia Cole reality show is going to be on DVD.

7. How do we feel about men in sandals/flip flops?

8. So what is it about Nick Cannon?

9. Why do I feel bad about the Star Jones, Al Reynolds divorce?

10. I’m going to a housewarming on Saturday. He’s not registered, and I don’t want to show up with the standard “bottle.” Any suggestions?

ESTELLE

So I went to the Estelle Concert last night. It was incredible. There’s nothing like a concert in a small intimate space. You can chill, grab a good cocktail or two and just enjoy the music. Not only can this chick blow, but she's a true performer that embodies what music should be; it emotes from your heart, spirit and soul. She has this kind of sexy around the way girl kind of style that is definitely hot. She was accompanied by John Legend (she's the first artist on his label Homeschool) for the song Come Over. Let me be the first to say that he’s just as fine in person. She reminds me of Lauryn Hill in that she's a vocalist and a rapper mixed with a little Amy Winehouse because of her kind of gritty English style. The album drops today. It's a must have for those who like good music.

No Homo

I have to give kudos to Morehouse Safe Space, a gay student group at Morehouse, for organizing activities aimed at increasing awareness of homophobia and heterosexism at Morehouse. Dubbed the "No More ‘No Homo’ Initiative," the weeklong campaign also seeks to eradicate one of the most commonly used epithets gay students encounter at the all-male college.

The initiative kicks off April 21 with the showing of "No Hetero," a documentary produced by three film students at neighboring Spelman College. The film uses the experiences of gay and lesbian students at Morehouse and Spelman to look at the broader issue of sexual orientation discrimination among African-Americans. On April 22, members of Morehouse Safe Space are scheduled to appear before the student senate and submit a resolution calling for more awareness of the plight of gay students at Morehouse. A panel discussion on homophobia at historically black colleges and universities is scheduled for April 23, while "National Day of Silence" activities are planned for April 24 and April 25. The week culminates April 26 with the James Baldwin Brunch, a coalition-building luncheon designed to link students with supportive administrators, faculty and activists