The online diary of a gay courtesan.

I get a massage almost weekly without exception. I need them. Between working out, dancing, traveling, and life I have to. I don’t have health insurance, so I have to take care of myself with exercise, diet, and massage. I intend to add a bit more cardio to my life, and I am going to (at some point finally) add yoga back in as well. I really cannot recommed enough that you find a massage therapist with a healing touch.

And how can I not share that with someone who needs it? A friend has been in pain. Finally last night I convinced him to go with me. I got mine done, and then he laid on the table after me. It was so gratifying to see the changes in his body taking place as Ron worked the knots, kinks, locks, blocks, and regrets out of my friend’s back, legs, arms, neck, and feet. I felt like I’d done a double-session, just by watching the second hour. I was surprised at how nice it was just to watch the process that I find so healing.

Today my friend is smiling, breathing, laughing… He always does this, of course; however, today he is doing it with a levity of spirit. And that is really amazing. Both because he feels better, but because I do too. I really enjoyed doing this for him, and I hope I can keep tripping over little ways to give back to the people who feed my spirit.

I have to confess I’m a tad overwhelmed by the volume of private responses I have received concerning “Randy and Matt, or: The cycle of guilt and cowardice.” But more than that, I am particularly moved by the empathy and compassion so many of you have expressed in emails. I want to take a moment to tell all of you that this means very much to me, and I am sopping up your kindness and feeding my soul with it. I got an in-box full of Love Gravy!! Pass me them biscuits, boy!

I also want you to know that I am feeling better. Some of you expressed some concerns, and I definitely didn’t mean to alarm any of you. I don’t want to go into much detail right now, because it gets so complicated and confusing as the situation evolves, but let me say this: Matt and I spoke for 3 1/2 hours last night. A great deal was revealed, and it is yet another example of how my life is sometimes a Sit-Com writer’s wet dream come true… The comedy of errors I’m capable of is pretty staggering at times.

But that’s what happens when I feel compelled to fill in blanks where communication should be doing it for me. I will say more later, but for now I want to address two readers in particular:

(From J.N.)
“…The moment of clarity that comes with ‘I have met the enemy and it is I’ is earth shattering. But, at the same time, it can be an extraordinarily liberating feeling precisely because it DOES allow you an opportunity to break a cycle (or cycles for that matter).

“…while the gallon of arsenic Randy fed you over years is on a completely different order of magnitude to the ounce of arsenic you have given to Matt, it does not change the fact that you are giving him arsenic. Again, this does not negate what Randy did. It does not excuse it. It does not undo it. BUT, I think it does mean that we kid ourselves if we think we cannot and do not warp ‘Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.’”

J.N. – You are exactly right. I wonder if, on some level, the magic mirror cracks in the fairy tales because of the wicked queen’s finally seeing herself as she is? And while I am not ready to explain yet what I mean by it, I am completely relieved to find out that Matt did not think I was doing anything that I feared I was. However, (for argument’s sake) let’s say I was, in fact, feeding Matt poison: I do not regret the miscommunication, because I have had the revelation you mentioned. Cycles can be broken. I am glad Matt doesn’t feel poisoned, but I am even gladder that I know to make sure I don’t start.

(from Clint)
“…I was going to talk about how each one of your blogs that I’ve read have affected me, or changed my perspective. But, really, I’m sending this email more as a thanks. Remember that even on your darkest days, when you blog, you have several people that learn something about themselves. And on your good days, you have several people who celebrate with you.”

Clint – In your email (which I have grossly abbreviated here, I’m sorry) you said you believe that if you “Give to the world the best you can, the best will come back to you.” I cannot stress enough that this (although much more eloquent than what I have written) is the foundation of almost everything I want. A reader named J.C. asked me what I want from my interactions with people, and I eventually said “honesty.” But I need to amend this, so that it includes your words as well: I want honesty, but I want to remember (as much as possible) that, even when I don’t like what I learn, if someone gives me honesty, I have to accept it as the best that person can give me, and I have to give it back to him/her in the spirit of appreciation.

Thank you, all of you, for your kindnesses. Some will regard it as weakness or soppy emotional quibble/piddle/drivel; however, never doubt that giving the best you have rewards EVERYONE in the long run. Ripples in the pond, Clint, ripples in the pond!

(fade up to Star Wars theme song by John Williams)

Okay, sorry for the overly dramatic beginning. Well, my roommate got my car started, and all the electrical bugs got fixed, but the Miata ended up costing me $500 more anyway: The rear brake calipers started leaking, and they sprayed brake fluid all over the brake pads… Long story short: Had to get new brake pads (which were more than 50% worn anyway, so no biggie – they would have needed replacing anyway soon), but I also had to get new brake calipers. But the car drives like a dream again. Just have to figure out where the water is coming from that is flooding the floor panel under the passenger seat… HMMMM! Anyway, there you have it.

BUT!!

There is something wonderful to share: While I was getting my brakes fixed I went to lunch. At the table next to me were two of the happiest women I’d seen in a long time. They were having such a good time together. OMG! Their energy was captivating. They were laughing deep in their bellies, and it was like listening to music. They had beautifully braided hair, and their dresses were covered in colorful African (or African inspired) designs. Their bangled jewelry clinked like little bells every time they’d throw their hands up in hysterics. They were so happy!

“I’m sorry to interrupt you.”

“Yes?” one said with a delightful glitter in her saucy eyes.

“I’ve been having a rough time lately, and, although I’m not listening to your conversation, I can’t help but overhear how happy you both are. I just wanted to tell you that I feel better for having heard real friendship next to me.”

“AWWW! That is so sweet! And you know what, baby? Whatever is getting you down… It’ll pass.”

“I think it just did.”

Now… time to go pack some boxes, so I can start moving into the new home I’ve found for me and Sméagol. He’s playing in the tape and cardboard: He’s always so happy to see all the new places to hide and ambush me from. His collar jingles as he’s playing, and it reminds me of the laughter of the two friends.

I feel good.

No real depth to this entry; however, there is something to be said for levity and brevity, n’est-ce pas? Although it was a sparse weekend in Atlanta, I had a really good time. Something made me feel really alive while I was dancing, and I think that this “something” was the realization that, come what may, I am doing what I enjoy.

Suddenly it didn’t matter that the crowds were thin. I let go of being tired. I was able to not feel sad that I was missing “my” bed/shower in D.C. There was my body, my sense of humor, and the music. And that was enough.

I had a great time, and I met my weekly goal. What else is there to demand of life? I got to see my friend Chris, and I enjoyed the company of (most of) the other dancers. I met a wonderful girl named Jen who comes to the club with her sweet gay roommate, and I got to do pushups and abs with Preston in the VIP lounge. I also found out I can get health insurance of some kind at a discounted rate through an arrangement between Swinging Richards and Afleck (sp?). So… there you have it.

I’m about to go get a massage.

In the first “Food for thought” entry I discussed my supper at Taverna Plaka in Atlanta, Georgia. That was a wonderful experience, but not quite perfect (but through no fault of the restaurant itself). Something was missing for that dinner: Company. Meals are the very essence of quality time for friends and family, and I wasn’t able to share my pleasure at Taverna Plaka (but next time I will go with a friend).

Today I had lunch with my friend Joe. We went to Fogo de Chão in Washington, D.C… Ohmygosh!! It was one of the single most spectacular lunch experiences I have ever had. It was an event. The setting is immaculately clean and beautifully designed, the Brazilian/Portugese servers are prompt and courteous (almost to the point of embarrassing me), and the food is both visually and nom-nom-nomerifically stunning. It was almost overwhelming, it was that splendid.

We started with the “salad bar,” though I feel I do it a disservice to call something that looked more like landscape architecture a salad bar. I don’t know what else to call it though. It was perfect. I would almost venture to guess that each greenbean was placed strategically on the serving platter, and that each shaving of Parmesan was carved with care (so as to give the illusion of perfectly homey crumbles). I was nearly scared to touch anything. But I did. And it was yummy!

The meat portion is interesting. Each person at the table is given a round piece of paper that resembles a coaster. One side is red, the other is green. When the red side is up no one will come offer you his meat (if only it were that easy in the clubs, right?). But when you turn the green side up within moments a gentleman with a particular type of meat (sausage, chicken, lamb chops, leg of lamb, filet mignon, etc.) will come and offer you some of whatever is on his skewer. After I got a cut I left my green light on, and immeditely someone else came and offered me something else. I said, “No, thank you,” and he went away confused. Then immediately a third came… and then I was getting panicked… Finally Joe said, “You have to turn your coaster back to red.” Ohmygosh! Fabulous!

At any rate, Joe and I sat for what must have been nearly two hours talking. And you know what? The meal was superb, but it was made all the better for sharing it. With Taverna Plaka I was reminded that food is joy. But with Fogo de Chão I was reminded that people with food lifts that joy to inspiration.

I don’t socialize near enough in my personal life. I just don’t. I get tired of deflecting assumptions and defending my choice of career. I get tired of expectations, and I am generally worn out of people’s company after the weekend; however, this trip to Washington, D.C. has reminded me that I really do love people. Yes, I needed a reminder.

While I’m praising Joe’s company and Fogo de Chão I should also heap some praise on Dr. Terry Gerace. What a perfect host he is. He, as you may remember from my other postings about him, is a huge portion of the energy behind the FUK!TS I came here to help promote. He is also the owner and operator of what is probably one of the single most amazing Guest Houses/Bed and Breakfasts you’ll ever hear about: The Artists Inn Residence. It’s uncanny – he found a muralist who can do trompe-l’œil effects so well that I thought the wooden staircase was marble until I actually stepped on it. Amazing!

Dr. Terry spent three years on the house, and it features many reclaimed works of antique metal, stone, and wood. I’m staying in the Shakespeare Room (each room is themed to focus on a particular artist: William Shakespeare, Leonardo da Vinci, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, Katherine Hepburn, Salvador Dalí, and Duke Ellington). It’s quite simply the most relaxing and intriguing sleep over I’ve ever had (which is almost as insulting as calling the vegetables today a salad bar). The format is adjusting from nightly/weekly rates to monthly rates, so if you are planning an extended stay, you should definitely consider contacting the Artists Inn Residence, which is right in the middle of DuPont Circle.

Joe and Terry (as well as many other recently discovered precious friends) remind me to invest in people more deeply than I have in years. They are fantastic people. Between food, conversation, and hospitality they have made my visit here both constructive and very happy. As I venture more and more outside of the clubs in pursuit of my adult entertainment career, I am finding that this is a journey I should have started sooner. I am excited again about the possibilities that wait ahead.