MasculineCurves

my life in wanderlust...

Hey fellas! Just a quick note to update you all on what's going on with me. Unfortunately, I haven't been able to post any blog updates as I've been too engrossed in corporate 9 to 5 bullsh&t this week. This really breaks my heart because, as you know, I love blogging and I don't so much love corporate life. It's this disposition causes me to fantasize about a life in Wanderlust. That said, allow me to point you in the direction of my other blog Aaron in Wanderlust. Here's what's new over there:

The Paralyzing Fear of Success: Why do I allow the fear of success to paralyze me? And can I over come it?

The Vision Board: Okay, so this was my first attempt at a “full-length” vlog post, so brace yourself to see me as a “talking head” for the next nine minutes of your life. Please try not to count the number of times I say “uhm” or “vision board.” Hopefully, I’ll get better at these video posts as I become more familiar more comfortable being on camera.

On the bright side, tomorrow is Friday and I couldn't be more ecstatic to see the weekend come. Hopefully, the weekend will afford me the opportunity to plan some blog updates. Till then... ciao!

Aaron in Wanderlust

Today marks the debut of my new blog, Aaron in Wanderlust. How is this different than this blog, you ask? Well, it's more about my personal journey in life and everything I will strive to accomplish by age 40. And today this journey will take me on a 10 hour road trip. So won't you please come and ride with me?

P.S. Don't worry. I don't intend to shut the MasculineCurves blog down. We'll still keep up our mischievous antics here.

if only I were a New York City blogger...

I love reading blogs. It’s my favorite form of entertainment outside of Desperate Housewives and the new Desperate Housewives replacement GCB. I especially enjoy the “New York City” gay blogger who writes about his real life in the big city. Needless to say, I live vicariously through the New York City blogger. His life is clearly more exciting than mine. He works a cool job, makes lots of money, is up for the occasional one night stand, works out like a gym bunny and has time for a serious dating life. I mean, who is this guy? To be clear, I’m not singling out any particular blogger here. This is just an observation I’ve made about the gay bloggers in New York City... and I LOVE THEM!

As for me, I’m your typical midwestern gay. My days and nights aren’t nearly exciting. I’m closer to 40 than 30, I’m a slight bit overweight, I’m single and I have a dog named “Four.” I’m too modest to write about my one night stands and I can’t even remember the last time I’ve been on a real date. Of course I aspire to be a body conscious gay guy, but that’s only an aspiration at this stage in my life. About the only thing I have on the New York City gay blogger is that I have an awesome apartment that’s three times the size of his at a third of the cost. 

So what is life like for the midwestern gay blogger? Well, this morning I woke up, took the dog for a walk and spent the bulk of the afternoon cleaning the apartment and doing a shit load of laundry. This evening I’ll  meet up with my friends Frank and Jess for dinner at Johnny Mangos. And afterwards we’ll probably hit a couple bars in the Tremont or Ohio City neighborhoods. 

I enjoy hanging out with Jess and Frank. The last time we treated ourselves to a night out I found myself in the back seat of my car making out with some hot stranger named Matt. Now that’s a blog for another day...

f*ck me...

My Christmas present to myself this year was an iPad 2. Now, just a few short months after Christmas the iPad 3, or iPad HD, is here. Aaaahhhh.... f&ck me! And yes, I am one of those Apple freaks that has to have the latest and greatest.

So a friend just texted me and told me he's already placed his order....... Aahhh... f*ck me!

this-that-and-the-other-thing

I don't know the source of this image, but I found it one one of my favorite tumblrs and thought it wildly appropriate to illustrate this post.

For some reason, out of the blue, I suddenly find myself attracted to white guys. Not that I haven’t always been an equal opportunity dater, but it seems as though white guys have been turning my head a lot more than usual lately. Is it possible that the types of guys we find attractive come and go in spurts? After all, the first guy I ever kissed was white, and then somewhere in my mid-twenties I went black (and now I’m coming back?)

Perhaps, my heightened lightened sensitivity stems from that wild night a few weeks ago when I went out with a group of friends, got all drunk, and found myself making out in the back seat of my car with a rather attractive blue-eyed guy named Matt who had the cutest dimples. He was visiting from Rochester and was an excellent kisser. Or perhaps, because I am half-white myself, I’m pre-dispositioned to be with a white guy. 

So my question of the day is: What to do when you find yourself in a flirtatious situation with someone whom you presume to be out of your league? What I’m getting at isn’t a race thing, per se. I wouldn’t want anyone to read into this post that I feel white gays are superior non-white gays. That’s not at all what I’m getting at (although my therapist has told me that I may have some underlying race insecurities contributing to my self-esteem issues). I’m mostly concerned about what do I do when I come across a guy that I am innately attracted to but think he is way too hot, too smart, or too this-that-and-the-other-thing to want to be with me.

Case in point: Recently I’ve been running into this white dude at yoga whom I find outrageously compelling. Let me describe him: he is about 5’10”, light-brown hair, hazel eyes, and has the most adorable boyish face. His build is eye-pleasingly athletic much ado to the yoga I’m sure, and being that I peg him to be in his mid-twenties he is surely in his prime as far as desirability. I mean, he is droolingly hot. Get the picture!? I’m pretty sure he is gay because we don’t have yoga-mat carrying metrosexuals in Cleveland. (Isn’t “metrosexual” the white people’s equivalent to “the down low” anyways?) 

I usually catch him with a head nod as he exits the from the advanced class and I enter for my Yoga Power Basics. And on those occasions I’m feeling limber enough to take the advance class we sometimes make what I perceive to be lingering eye-contact in between poses. 

So here’s where my insecurities kick in. Why is it that I think this hot yoga dude might have the slight bit of interest in me? He is beautiful and practically a full decade younger than I. Wouldn’t he want to be with someone just like him? Maybe he’s not making eye contact at all; maybe it’s just a simple glance and I’m reading something completely different into it. Or, perhaps he’s deeply conceited because he knows he’s gorgeous. I bet he’s thinking “Yeah, I know you want some of this. Keep dreaming you chunky little mulatto.”

Or, what if he is flirting with me in hopes of hooking a rich sugar daddy? Surely he’ll be disappointed when he gets ahold of my bank statements. And at age 36 am I really ready to start calling myself a “daddy”?

What if... what if I give into the notion that it is possible that he might genuinely be interested in me? Is it possible that attraction can be a mutual feeling and I don’t have to worry about this-that-and-the-other-thing?

The G-Midster

So, I took a couple vacation days from work and won’t go back until Wednesday. Hooray for me. These are much needed mental health days because those m-f’ers at the office are going to make me lose my mind. That aside, I took today and tomorrow off so I could begin the process of visualizing what life will be like when I become a full-time photographer/blogger. 

So far today is perfect. I woke up around 8 a.m., a full hour and a half later than I would have slept had I gone in to work, yet not so late that I feel guilt for sleeping the morning away. I perused the internet a bit, checked in on my favorite blogs, and read up on Oscars news. Then I threw on some sweats and took the dog on a long walk. He loves his walks. Breakfast was a bowl of oatmeal then I was off to shower and dress for my day as a blogger. 

I chose my clothes for today with little care. A simple black button down with Cuban shoulders and a pair of jeans that are frayed along the bottom. Not frayed because I payed $100 for them to be that way, frayed because I am 5’5” and the cheap Mossimo Target brand jeans I buy are always too long and drag along the bottoms of my shoes. I dabbed a little hair gel on my curls and took a look in the mirror. There I was, some sort of gay middle-aged hipster. I guess that makes me a g-midster (note to self: title this post “The G-Midster). 

By 11 a.m. I’m sitting in my neighborhood coffee shop sipping a $3 cup of some exotic Central American blend and typing this post on my MacBook Pro. I’ll spend the next few hours here working on upcoming blog posts and browsing the web. Lunch will be a soup and sandwich combo from the counter, and I’m a happy little blogger. I’m happy because the coffee is good and one of my crush-object baristas is working today. He’s a mid-twenties white guy with untamed dark brown hair, light facial scruff, and a sweet piercing on his lower lip. Did I mention his eyes are dark and his lips are  an ever-so-kissable shade of pink? I guess he’s the true hipster. (Okay, Aaron, time to snap out of this mesmerization!)

If all goes well, my plans for the rest of the day are to post a couple blog posts; work a bit on my next photo-book MasculineCurves Volume II (buy Volume I here); and perhaps I’ll drop-in on a yoga class this evening. I figure I might as well indulge in yoga while I still have a corporate salary coming in. It enrages me that yoga has become such a luxurious trend in our culture that only suburban housewives can afford it.

So speaking of salary. Will I ever realize this dream of becoming a full-time photographer/blogger/g-midster? I logged into my Google adsense account today and was thrilled to discover I’ve made a whopping $68.98 in the past year from leasing ad space to Google. Hint: You can help support this blog by making a donation via PayPal (upper right column of blog).

Anyways, that’s all for now. Life is good, and I am one hip G-Midster!

me, myself, and (an) i(Phone)

So, here I am. The DesperateArtist behind this blog. I rarely take/post self-portraits for two reasons. One, poor self-esteem issues (yes, that coming from a photographer). And two, I'm not quite certain if I want to be an anonymous blogger or an out, proud, and loud blogger. I found the inspiration to take these this morning when I was washing my face and noticed the radiance of the sun-light coming through my bathroom window and how it reflected off my eyes. So now that you see the troll behind this blog, will you still love me? And yes, I am fishing for compliments.... haha.

 

Today is going to be my day!

This morning, as I was walking my dog, I happened to find a $20 bill on the sidewalk. Literally, I looked down and there it was right under my feet. Today is going to be a great day!

you can get addicted to a certain kind of sadness...

A friend brought this song to my attention a few weeks ago and now I see it is making the way through the blogosphere. I was reminded of it the other day when I heard it pumping through the speakers of my neighborhood coffee shop. Somebody that I Used to Know by Goyte is such a “soundtrack-of-my-life” kinda song. It summarizes the bitter-sweet moment when you come to the realization that someone who was once the most important being in your life has simply become “someone that you used to know.”

In my mind, this song plays in the background every time I scroll through the contacts in my address book. Amazingly, I still can’t bring myself to hit the delete button on that ONE person despite the fact that he is now merely someone that I used to know...

I told myself that you were right for me,
But felt so lonely in your company
But that was love and it’s an ache I still remember
Now you’re just somebody that I used to know

 

there's always tomorrow...

I must say I'm a little disappointed that I did not go to yoga immediately after work like I had planned. Instead I opted for an evening of television and web surfing. This means I've gone two consecutive days without doing yoga. I'll be back on track tomorrow... namaste

Me, LUXE, and a Lenny Kravitz look alike...

I know that I’ve posted about this restaurant before, but I just can’t say enough how much I love, love, LOVE, Luxe Kitchen & Lounge. Last night, after seeing The Artist at the Capitol Theater, my friends and I stopped by Luxe and put our name in for a table. I was a bit pissed that the hostess with the Pat Benatar hair told us it would be 45 minute wait when it really turned out to be over an hour and a half. I couldn’t pull the “don’t you know who I am card?!” because believe it or not my status as a blogger carries little clout in the Cleveland restaurant scene. 

While we were waiting I had a one three of their suberb martinis. They have one of the most exotic martini menus I’ve ever seen. I don’t recall the name of this martini pictured above (I think it was my third) but it’s a close second to my favorite, the Simplicity which features hints of pineapple and garnished with a sliver of basil. 

Finally we were seated, and I’m glad we waited because it was well worth it. I had the filet over a bed of potatoes au gratin and it was totally out of this world. I mean OUT OF THIS WORLD. Who would have thought to do potatoes au gratin with cheddar and blue cheese? Amaaaazing! As much national press as Cleveland restaurants get I’m surprised that Luxe flies under the radar as it does. And I hope it continues to fly under the radar because in all selfishness I’d hate for a 90-minute drop in wait to turn into a 30-day reservation lead time.

Another reason to love Luxe (as I mentioned in my previous post) is the male eye-candy in the front of the house. One of the hosts, a Lenny Kravitz look-a-like, is a main attraction here and one of the most beautiful men on Cleveland’s west side. He was looking damn fine in his skinny jeans last night. I’m sure I blushed when he said “Hey, how’s it going?” seeming to acknowledge that he’s recognized me as a customer there before. Throughout the course of dinner Lenny and I locked eyes a few times, which made me think we were making some sort of flirtatious connection. But you all know how I tend to make up these kind of fantasies in my head, right? 

Life is Good (part 2)

Let’s pick up where we left off the other day, shall we? What did I mean by my cryptic post “Life is Good”?  Well, as you all know, each and every day I go to work at a day job that I absolutely can’t stand. But instead of allowing myself to grow into another middle-aged gay man stuck in a rut, I provide myself “little reminders” that I have the power to change my life. It’s sorta my very own “it gets better” project. Every morning when I arrive at my office I write down three phrases. Let’s explore these phrases a little deeper:

I do what I WANT in my life

Notice the all caps emphasis on the word “want.” This is my reminder that life is short and it’s the only one I have. So why not make the most of it and follow my heart’s desire? If I don’t want to spend my life at a dull monotonous corporate job then I have the power to change that path. And there’s nothing wrong with that.

They don’t own me

The “they” I’m referring to is my employer. When we hate our jobs we display a negative disposition towards our bosses and the higher ups which leads us to assume we’re stuck in a miserable self-actualization. But quite frankly, this job is stress that I don’t need in my life. That’s why it’s important for me to remind myself that they really don’t own me. They can’t force me into submission. The very worst that could happen is they let me go. And if that happens, so what? I didn’t like the job anyways! I’ll move on. It’s refreshing to come to the realization that is the very worst that could happen. No one owns me, and no one can make me do things I don’t want to do. 

Life is Good!

And finally, it’s important to remind myself that life is indeed good. I am grateful for many things. I have my health, I have my brains, I have my creativity, and most importantly I am fortunate to have life. Every moment I get to choose how to live my life. Every morning when I get in my car and drive myself to work it’s a choice. And if someday I decide I no longer want to do that, then I don’t have to. I have choices in life, so life is good!

Life is Good

Maybe I finally figured out a way to approach my days with the right frame of mind. Or maybe it’s all the yoga I’ve been doing over the past few weeks. Or may it’s the yoga that’s put me in the right frame of mind. But yesterday, I woke up and I just knew it would be a good day. And it was. The weather was unseasonably warm, the sun was out, and I received an unexpected invitation to attend the opening of a posh restaurant.

I went to work with a smile on my face, which hasn’t happened in a very long time. So what is it about my daily routine that has changed my frame of mind? I think it’s because I’ve gotten into a routine of writing down “little thoughts” that remind me of important things about myself that are easy to forget if I don’t keep them in the forefront of my mind. No, it’s not like Memento, I don’t have short term memory loss. I’m practicing the art of positive thinking. Every morning when I arrive at my dreaded day job I write down three little phrases on a piece of scratch paper and sit it by my computer so that at any point in my day I can look down and be reminded that:

I do what I WANT in my life

They don’t own me (my employer is the “they”)

Life is good

What is the significance of these reminders? I’ll explore in tomorrow’s blog post. Stay tuned...

wanderlust

Believe it or not, wanderlust is a big word for me. Of course I've heard other people say it, but I've always been hesitant to use the word because I wasn't certain of the context to use it in. So I looked it up on dictionary.com:

wan·der·lust [won-der-luhst] noun a strong, innate desire to rove or travel about.

Interestingly, this word somes up exactly how I visualize my life to be... someday. 

life, or something like it...

Wassup fellas?! It's been a while since I've actually blogged about life on here. And despite the fact that my other blog Life of a DesperateArtist is supposedly my personal journal blog (I haven't updated it in months - still not certain if I want to try and do two blogs), I thought I'd catch you all up on life, or something like it... Be forewarned, this post is unedited and off the cuff, so please bare with me on my grammer and spelling.

So I'm driving a new car these days. Okay, so it's not actually new, it's "certified pre-owned" which is a fancy way of saying used. Last month on a cold icy night I found myself colliding into another car. No injuries, but two totalled automobiles. And that was the end of my beloved Honda Accord and now I'm in a Toyota Scion xA. It's quite a bit smaller than what I'm used to, but that's okay with me. It gets great gas mileage and is a rather cute zippy car with a lot of pep. 

What else is going on? Hhhmmm... Well, I am still working a corporate job that I absolutely loathe. That situation isn't changing, nor resolving itself, and it's the bane of my existence. I can honestly say this job is the source of any and all unhappiness I'm experiencing in my life at the moment. I turned 36 last October and this month marked my 12th year working for this company. This means I've literally spent a third of my life at this job. In these twelve years my hair has thined, turned a bit gray and I've gained 50 pounds. To say I'm stuck in a rut is an understatement, but I'm not quite certain how to get myself out of this situation. I could look for another job, but I know that the corporate world is no longer a good fit for me. I guess one could say that I still don't know what I want to do when I grow up. Which is odd, because I've been an adult half my life. I still have this dream of travelling the world and being a photo-blogger. I suppose it's more of a fantasy than a practical reality, but it at least has me thinking about launching a kickstarter campaign to support some iteration of this dream.

Speaking of photography, I've sorta put down my camera for the time being. Part of the reasoning behind that is lack of any free time outside of my miserable job, part of it is finances. Yes, it also takes money to hire guys to step in front of the camera. I don't know if I'll get the opportunity to do much shooting this year, but I do hope to finally publish my long anticipated (only by me) photo book. I don't want to jinx the book by talking too much about it, but it is almost complete. It will be a retrospective of my male nude art series from 2004-2011. It's currently in layout, the narrative is complete, and I am fortunate to have a friend editing it. So look for that to come this year.

All that said, let's end this post on a good note. The most exciting thing that's happening in my life right now is the fact that I've rediscovered yoga. I first got into yoga about four years ago but somehow fell out of practice. I was inspired to start practicing again when a friend of mine invited me to try out a Bikram studio that recently opened here in Cleveland. As it turns out I'm not really a Bikram yoga kind of guy. Although it's very physical there's absolutely nothing meditative or theraputic about it. I did, however, find another studio which is fitting that need, Cleveland Yoga. Here the instructors follow the Baron Baptiste philosophy of power Vinyasa, which is both physical and meditative. I'm two weeks into my practice and I've already dropped about six pounds. Which almost  seems too good to be true, but it is amazing yoga. And although I do love the meditative aspects of yoga, I won't lie I am looking to reap the physical benefits as well. Yoga is the one thing in my day that I actually look forward to. Especially after a long day at my crazy job.

Anyways, that's all for now. I have to go clean my mat and get ready for yoga. And that's life, or something like it...

The Candid Life of a DesperateArtist

As I mentioned in a previous post, I’m currently working on an experimental blogging project. It’s my personal journal blog. What’s this all about? You see, I love blogging and have been going at this blog for four years now. I love blogging so much that when I started I ran out and told all my friends (and some family) about how I was making my little mark on the web-o-sphere. What I didn’t stop to think about is the fact that these people might actually read it thus making it a bit difficult for me to share certain aspects of my life candidly. And, as you might guess, a Desperate Artist has plenty of thoughts, opinions, and personal stories. And while I don’t mind seeking empathy from complete strangers (oddly), I am completely horrified by the idea that people I know in real life might be peeking in on my inner most perspectives on life.

That said, my new spot, The Candid Life of a Desperate Artist,  is a space where I can be... well.... uh.... candid about the everyday happenings of my life. A space where I can let my inner exhibitionist out. A space where I can talk about my experiences in love, relationships, and all the physical stuff in between; or perhaps even go on a rant about what it’s like being a gay man of color in a hetero-oriented corporate world. For obvious reasons, I’m not posting a link to the new blog here (I still have this weird paranoia that the higher-ups from my 9 to 5 know about this blog and are monitoring everything I post). But if you’re a stranger to me, then I’d like to welcome you inside my world. Send me an email at aaron@masculinecurves.com with “The candid life of a Desperate Artist” in the subject and I’ll respond with a link to the new blog.

champagne wishes

I arrived at an undisclosed location deep in the hills of West Virginia late yesterday afternoon. Upon my arrival I was immediately whisked to a patio where I spent the bulk of the evening sipping champagne, watching the sunset and listening to the crickets chirp.

I had to escape the city, the nine-to-five, my everyday life. It was either that or a nervous breakdown (he says sarcastically). I'm on a mini-vacation, dreaming of a life less complicated and dreading my return to reality. While I'm away I'll be thinking about how I can make change for the better in my personal and professional life. I'm also working on my experimental blogging project. Could a new blog from the DesperateArtist be on the horizon? More on that soon...

The Sunday evening blues...

It’s Sunday evening and just like any other Sunday night, I have the blues. I’m dreading going back to work tomorrow and I’m so depressed about it, I’ve made my Sunday evening dinner out of Haagen Daz, Hershey’s Syrup, and chardonnay. Like I’ve mentioned before, I can’t really blog too much about my work situation because I have this persistent paranoia that my employer is aware of my secret blogging identity. I feel like the higher ups are keeping an eye on me to see if I slip up and blog some confidential corporate secrets so they can fire me. You may think people getting fired for anonymous blogging is folklore, but it really does happen and I work for the very type of corporation that would put the time and resources behind such a witch-hunt.

So needless to say (without saying too much), I’m still trying to figure out what to do about my 9 to 5 situation. Last week was a roller coaster week. After returning from the long weekend I was pounded by a ton of emails from my boss stating his commands for the week. After the third such email (which was shot out prior to 8 a.m.. mind you), I had to restrain myself from walking off the job. Then Thursday came and it was a great day! I made a presentation to one of our senior executives and saved the day. It was a round of high-fives and empty promises of promotions for everyone.

A few weeks ago I blogged about becoming a full-time blogger. Well, that’s just fantasy, but what a great fantasy it is. In the past quarter I’ve made less than $100 from blogging. So unless the advertisers start rolling in or Bill Gates chooses to make a generous donation (via the PayPal button in the right column - hint, hint), I guess I’m going to have to move on to plan B. Yep, I’m dusting off the old resume. Enough said for now; let me stop before I begin to sound like the bitter old queen who got chewed up and spit out by that big hairy honker also known as corporate America.

You probably think this blog post is about you... don't you? don't you? don't you?

What do you do when someone who broke your heart many years ago still occasionally flirts with you? Let me set up the scenario of this stream of text messages. My friend and former obsessive crush object recently got a high-profile job (unbeknownst to me). I had contacted him the other day via text message to ask him about writing a piece for this blog. He kindly declined explaining that in his new job he could not make public statements about issues. This is understandable because whatever he said would be google-able (unless I posted it as anonymous, which would degrade the creditibility of the piece). 

His texts are in the gray bubbles. As you can see he teased me a little bit by calling me “handsome.” If I were so handsome then why aren’t we together? There was a time when I would have been all over that shit. But now, I just think it’s kind of amusing. I’m so over it. And as much as I enjoy our friendship I will say that he’s so vain he probably thinks this blog post is about him.

P.S. I'm really just posting this blurb to yank his chain a bit, but let me go on to say this. He is so fine that we would have all really enjoyed the naked pics! 

Betty White, the Home Depot, and 10 inches of wood...

I don’t know why I feel compelled to rent a third-floor apartment in a building that’s as old as Betty White. Probably because, just like Miss White, I find it to be absolutely charming. Of course there’s no central air conditioning which means July and August can be brutal. So today I finally got around to installing my window air-conditioning unit. 

As I fitted the unit in the window I made the revelation that I needed a couple blocks of wood to brace the mechanical monstrosity. Since I didn’t have any 2x4s laying around (why would I?), nor a table saw nearby (huh?), this was indeed handy-man work that required a trip to the Home Depot. 

Needless to say, a visit to my neighborhood Home Depot never disappoints with its promises of aisles of hardworking construction-type eye candy. But alas, today’s excursion to the home improvement emporium was a bit out of the ordinary. Sure, all the do-it-yourselfers and side-job handy men were aplenty. One by one they strutted up and down the aisles in their tattered muscle-filled tees and paint-splattered jeans. But all this is beside the point. It was wood I needed and wood I would get. 

Today the service at Home Depot simply sucked. None of the employees seemed to know anything about the lumber department. Every time I asked for help I got one of three responses: “I’ll go find someone for you,” “Our saw broke and we can’t cut wood today,” “So and so called off and we’re just too busy.” After about a half-hour of attempting to find someone to help me in the lumber department I got fed up. And if all my years working retail taught me anything it taught me to throw a fit and ask for a manager. And that’s how I got a 10 inch piece of wood for free!