Devon Hunter

Okay, so this week has been a mixed bag… The trip to Florida has not been the financial windfall I’d hoped it would be; however, I have had a good time with my travel companions, and I’ve learned alot. This alone makes the voyage worth it.

But there is still a great deal to contend with in my head. I don’t want to focus on any of that noise: There are some points of improvement, and these are the lights I want to focus on. My roommate got my car to start, and she said she drove it around the block - it seems to be running just fine. The silicone I used to patch some tiny holes in my convertible top have held through several heavy storms. I got the electric bill transferred into my name at my new apartment, and they didn’t ask for a deposit. And my landlord is going to let me leave a month early from my lease (and will simply keep the deposit), so I don’t have to pay rent on two places for September as well as August. WHEW!

I do try to look for the humor in life. Without it all of this would be utterly unbearable. Although I still have some bridges to cross as I leave the clubs and enter escorting, I can at least put a few checks in the boxes on my list of items to accomplish. So… in the interest of finding the fabuluscious points of gay light in all this ridiculous Frankensteinian darkness I offer you a song from “Rocky Horror Picture Show:”

I am fucking fabulous!

People can say whatever else they want about me, but one trait should outshine all of them: I am resilient. I don’t understand how or why I attract the type of Mongolian cluster fucks that are magnetized to my presence, but I have been given the gift of survival. I find a way. Therein lies the balance, I suppose.

Because of complications with money that began when I went to Biltmore a few weeks ago for a vacation, rather than do the third Sean Cody movie when it was offered to me, I am under some extreme financial strain. In retrospect I should not have taken that particular weekend off with that particular person. The trip has definitely not proven to be worth the loss of thousands of dollars. The views of nature were pretty, and I had a good time, but now I find myself wishing I’d just gone to San Diego when they asked me to. The positive: I have remembered why it’s important to look out for practical needs before fantasies. I’m not bitter. Sour perhaps, but not bitter. I’ll be sweet again in time. (Please remember honesty and communication in your interactions with others.)

Also, this weekend we’d booked 14 models for a project to have only three show up. Some fast proactive thinking on my part saved the photoshoots, but the stress wasn’t needed. But this too ends happily: We got pictures of eight models, and the diversity is very nice.

Oh, I have made a decision: I will never dance at Secrets again. I will keep going to D.C., but not to be at that club. I have peeps in the capital city, but Secrets will never exploit me again. So, there’s another happy conclusion.

However, one issue that has come up in addition to the rest: My car won’t start. I got back from an intensely overwhelming trip to D.C. to find that the battery in my car had died completely while I was gone for four days. When we pulled it out it was obvious that it was the original manufacturer’s part: My battery was eleven year old! Impressive, but going dead when I needed to get to Atlanta was extremely unhelpful. It was 8:45 on a Sunday night. I was lucky to find an Adanced Auto that was open until 11:00 pm. Replacing the battery caused an arc of electricity, and the fuses blew. They couldn’t be taken out without special tools. It was 10 o’clock at night, a thunderstorm was blowing in, we’re replacing parts to my car in the dark, and I need to get to Atlanta by 1:00 in the morning. Not happening… At least not with my car…

But this is where the deal gets sealed: I know I am fucking fabulous, because of the people who surround me. I know some total angels. If I weren’t amazing I wouldn’t be loved by amazing people. “Show me a man’s friends, and I’ll tell you his character.” Mhm. I must be pretty fucking fabulous, since the people I know are absolutely incredible.

My family and friends encourage me and help me. My roommate, her boyfriend, and my nextdoor neighbor are going to get my car running while I’m gone (or at least try to). My roommate took me to Amtrak at 1:00 am, so I could take a train to Atlanta. I’m travelling in Florida with two guys who are wonderful people. My collaborators at home and in D.C. inspire me with their generosity and faith in me. What else is there to say? How could I ever doubt that I am loved? The proof is in the pudding:

I. Am. Fucking. Fabulous.

Hi again, Devon - just read your post ‘…in the end’. What a testament to vulnerablility and strength! In fact, just from reading your thoughts in this short time that I’ve discovered them, I am struck with the idea that your vulnerability is your strength! As difficult as I think it must be, you are able to experience that one moment of float, of balanced well-being, long enough and often enough to experience the vulnerary effect that brings healing and a renewed sense of purpose. I hope to enjoy your insights for a long time to come and to learn to be willing to exert the effort that brings that moment of float into my experience, even if only once in awhile…always hoping to go from good to better. All the best to one of the best!

Dear Tom,

You have no idea how much I needed to be reminded of that post. The last few weeks have been pretty rough. Honestly, they’ve sucked ass. Badly. With sandpaper. But I couldn’t remember which post you were replying to, so I went back and reread “…in the end” - and I made myself cry a little. Being a sextuple Cancer ain’t easy.

Life is full of rhythms, and those cycles, by their definition, have high and low points. May and June I was definitely cresting. July… well… not so much. It feels like a nadir, if I’ve ever had one. However, I wanted to thank you for reminding me that I already knew that everything will be okay in the long run.

Yesterday I said to Keith Bailey, the photographer with whom I’m collaborating on a new project, that I feel like I have never in my life been in the right place at the right time. What total nonsense. That statement leapt out of my head and mouth because of tension about money. Take money out of the equation and there is a very simple truth: I have always been exactly where I needed to be, exactly when I needed to be there. Over the last few weeks I’ve been wanting to throw my hands up in resignation about almost every single aspect of the various situations that blend together to make “my life.” But that’s not really a mature option, now is it?

Thanks again Tom - you brought me back to center. I feel a little better. I think. (Surrender is difficult - it is an act of humility, and humiliation is painful at times.)

You know what? I have been in a funk for a couple days, because of this past weekend in Atlanta; however, my trainer Carrie was talking to me about a show called Intervention. I went and checked some clips out. Let me just say this: MY LIFE IS NOT SO BAD. Jesus?!  HAHAHAHAHAHA That was exactly what I needed to see.

I’ve mentioned in the past that my family knows what I do for a living and is supportive and encouraging. But lately I’ve had a few people question the veracity of this claim. “Your mother couldn’t possibly (insert whatever she couldn’t possibly do here).”

Well, last night Mom called me while I was at Swinging Richards in the dressing room. I specifically answered it, “Hey, Mom!” just to see what the other dancers would do. It was very cute: They looked at me like I was a third grader who’d been called to the principal’s office.

After a minute I said, “I have to get ready to get on stage - I’m at the club.” All their eyes got big. It was cute. But, if you still don’t believe me, look at the comments on my Michael Jackson memoriam. Incidentally, for people who don’t want to bother reading that long entry about fitness and diet that has a link to your left, then just watch this video, and you’ll know how I maintain my body: