Loring Park Episode #44: I Know There is a Rainbow

This song calms me down. We'll get to that later.

***

The day before I officially became a 28-year-old lady, I had a meet-up with some fellow writers of L'Etoile Magazine/LOLOMGBlog.com at Club Jager. I sat by a boy who looked just like Cordero, only if Cordero was heterosexual and sober. It was jarring.

The meet-up itself was enjoyable. People discussed fashion and Broadway and the closing of Cause and the Fringe Festival. Jahna, the L'Etoile editor is 31. Maggie, the LOLOMG editor is 25. Straight Cordero is 21. The girl next to me was 21. She went outside for a little bit because she was going through serious things.

"Wait, how old are you?" someone asked me.
"I'm gonna be 28 tomorrow," I said.
"You don't look it," Maggie said. "I thought you were younger than me."
"No, I'm just really immature," I said.

I don't really feel that old, though. I'm not embarrassed that my age will make me unpopular; I am embarrassed that my age points out how unaccomplished I am. I am seriously debating going back to school, because I don't want to be 30 and working retail. I want to be 30, working retail, and paying back expensive student loans (as was discussed at the meet-up). It's the American dream, isn't it?

***

He called me two days after my birthday only to ask if I was going out (I was closing).

"I'm working nine days in a row because I asked for my birthday weekend off," I said. "Thank you for wishing me happy birthday, though. That was really sweet of you. Oh, wait. You didn't."
He sounded exasperated and I couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not. "I was going to," he said. "And then I got distracted and ---"
"It's fine," I lied.
"So, how old are you, now? 34? 35?"
"Fuckkk youuuu," I said.
He laughed at his own joke and even though no one could see me, I tried to fight smiling. I always loved his laugh the most. My favorite laugh in the world is Jared's, but his is probably second. It is scratchy and full of gravel and suggests he has been smoking for more years than he has been alive.
"I'm 28."
"28 isn't that old. I'm 26."
"But all my friends are younger than me! Erin is my age and she's married, but I hang out with Joey and Jared the most, and they're 23. Everyone I know that's from high school and Stout is married or engaged and has fancy grown-up jobs."
"That's a good point. I'll bet if you hung out with people older than you, you'd feel like the young one of the group."
"True. But I'm not. I'm the old lady. But hell froze over last week and I actually had sex. At least I'm not going to be the 40-year-old virgin." I had absolutely no reason to tell him that.

He said he would be downtown that weekend. I texted him that Saturday. When he didn't respond, I was only surprised that I was surprised.

On we go.

***

Another day, another MUSCLE GAY POOL PARTY!! The man on the left is Chad Bushman. He was in my Fringe Festival play last year. (I am so nostalgic about the Fringe Festival! I wrote about it for LOLOMGBlog.com. Go look at it) When he read for the part, I immediately thought he was too attractive to do it because I had envisioned his character as more of a frumpy loser. However, he nailed it, and I realized that the fact he was so good-looking would make it even sadder that his character had completely given up on love and going to the bar.

The only other person I knew at the party was Tan Man (minus a brief and random cameo from my friend Jenny!). I mingled with him and his friends, who are all professional dancers. One was gay and one was straight and the gay one introduced his friend as "my straight boyfriend". It is a phrase I have heard a lot this summer, and I find it fascinating. I suppose the closest thing I have to a straight boy-friend is my bro-ish co-worker. To have a straight boyfriend, I think there can be absolutely no sexual tension at all, and he has to be full-on, 100% straight, not 'flirty when I drink a little' straight. I have tried straight-adjacent boyfriends that made me really sad, but that is sooooooo Season 2.

Chad's party was really fun. It was a mix of "circuit gays" and a sense of suburban normalcy. They live in Lakeville, so neighbors with kids were there (Chad and his husband have three teenagers). The moms of the group thought that the straight boyfriend looked like Maxs from Dancing with the Stars. I sat in the hot tub with the impossibly chiseled dancers because I was strangely feeling good about myself. Tan Man and I went to the bathroom together because we are girls, and he spanked me while I was peeing and I got it all over Chad's bathroom. Chad has his own cleaning business, and his home is immaculate. I felt shame, the kind you have when you're walking your dog and she decides to take a crap right in front of the church you attend.

Chad and his husband hired a bartender who had a 12-pack. I enjoyed telling everyone he was my ex-boyfriend.

That night, I came home and Jared's mom stayed with us! We went out to the bar but I got there super late because my stomach was mad at me. Jared got sick at the bar and wouldn't leave the club! It was a stressful disaster. The next day, he was miraculously on time for work while I was an hour late because I was having stress-induced diarrhea.

There was a lot of unnecessary bodily fluid in that story.

Kevin called me that day. We were going to have lunch. He said he would call me on Wednesday to confirm and then he never did. And maybe it's okay. You have to set your own boundaries. He is fixing himself and his life piece by piece, and I tend to cause disorganization.

                    ***

I was excited for the following week because my friend Peter was visiting from Washington, D.C.! We went to Flip Phone, where the theme was appropriately "Thank You For Being a Friend."

There was a shot there called "Blanche's Dream" that was a nightmare. Ugh! I love Flip Phone and I love Honey, but I cannot recommend their specialty shots anymore. Maybe the whole thing was a prank by Sophia.

Also, I have no idea where the shoes I am wearing in that picture are, and that makes me sad.

Later, at The Saloon (this show's version of "Meanwhile, across town..."), one of the cigarettes people asked Peter for a survey and he was livid. They come up to us all the time. Markie asks for our ID's and wins prizes. It's a win-win, especially for Markie, because he won a free trip to Montana courtesy of Marlboro. I wasn't even jealous, because I watched all three episodes of The Real Housewives of New York City when they went to Montana, and you could tell those ladies were all bored.

"This shit just doesn't happen in D.C.," Peter said. "But everything is three times more expensive." He was not feeling The Saloon. He asked the bartender about his Scorpio tattoo and the bartender seemed like he didn't even know what Scorpio meant. Meanwhile, we talked to a cute "straight" guy who was in the Army.

If that wasn't enough, Paul Ryan was there with his boyfriend of the week, who was hot and British. He once told me I was #7 on his sex buddies list, and the British dude must have been #2 or #3. Instead of feeling pouty and insecure, I instead decided I would attempt busting his balls all night. However, Paul Ryan is cavalier and always several steps ahead.

"Jakey," he bellowed. "I got bored today and bought something." Before I could react, he produced a key to a Lexus.
"Kiss me," I demanded. He always texts me on nights I'm closing.

Peter and I went out a few more times during his week in Minneapolis. On the last night, we met a Marine with dimples who laughed at my jokes. I never saw him again and he wouldn't get Peter's information because he had no interest in long-distance romance. It may have all been a dream. I was happy Peter visited. I know how hard it is to not only transfer schools, but to do it cross-country. His hard work and pragmatism inspire me.

I keep running into this boy. By "keep running into" I mean I have met him twice. He is 19 and he is kind of bromo-ish with a slight yet sturdy build and wears a snapback. He told me he was from Kansas and that it's very anti-gay and he seemed very sad about it.

"But I'm from Wichita," he said. "Which is the best city in Kansas."
"It's no Lenexa," I said.
"Jakey, aren't you jealous that I'm so young?" he smiled as he touched his rubber face. "I have so much collagen."
"You're out past curfew," I said. I did not want to make out with him at all.

I felt a strange impulse to photograph these two before we went out one evening. I talk so much game about flirting and drinking and clubbing, but I think I'm really happiest when it's just the three of us chilling out. Maybe that comes with getting older.

It is not always rainbows and butterflies. Some struggles are long over. Some are just beginning. Through it all, we have each other and our laughter.

                                                     ***

The funny and talented Isaac Witty put together "The 2nd Annual Be Annoying on Facebook Awareness Day". It was on a Monday night and I worked 9-6, so I headed to The Corner Bar right after work. People who knew how to do screencaps had actual examples of what they found annoying, but I am so computer-illiterate that I didn't even do that. I just stood in front of my douche shirtless selfie and talked about the time my dick pic went viral. My friend Kate is on the right and she missed my set but she enjoyed the rest of the show. We drank at the 19 afterward. My bartender TJ was there with a lady friend and looked good. He invited me to Chino Latino but I didn't feel very great. It was a Monday, after all.

Kate, however, was flabbergasted that I declined the invitation. "Boys with glasses are monsters in bed," she informed me. Sean later joined us, we played trivia, and then Sean and Kate went gallivanting while I went home. Kate lost her passport at the 19 (but retrieved it), and I got another freaking parking ticket. Before they left, we met the SEXIEST MAN EVER. Oh my god. He had shoulder length hair which isn't really my thing, but he had big muscles and made eye contact when he talked to you.

"I'm straight," he told me on the patio. "I mean, I've fucked dudes before, but whatever." I never saw him again.

My luck with comedy continued. Daryl Horner (who has been on a bit of a social media hiatus lately) graciously offered me a hosting gig at The Palace and an opening spot for him at The Pourhouse that following Friday for his DVD taping. I LOVE THE POURHOUSE.

I re-arranged my work schedule for the Palace gig and then it got cancelled. However, one of my high school friends was in town, so I was happy having the time off and was excited to hang out with her, even if it meant sacrificing the miracle that was parallel parking right in front of my building. It never happens.

She cancelled our plans while I was in her driveway.

This is why I hang out with gay men in their early twenties all the time. They don't do that shit.

The Pourhouse night was amazing. I bought a new suit from the kids' department at Nordstrom. C2 by Calibrate is my favorite!

It was that rare night when I felt like a "real" comedian, y'know? I mean, even though I was just the host (ess), I had never been to a venue where I was treated so well (part of this, I'm sure, was a testament to Daryl). I got five comped drink tickets and they let me order top-shelf with them. One of my co-workers and her husband came, as well as Sean and Jared, the latter of which I was thrilled about because his laugh is identifiable and infectious.

Needless to say, when Daryl's raucous hour was over, I was plowed. It's a miracle I was able to close the show without slurring or tripping.

We then went back to Sean's majestic apartment, where I drank even more. Sean is like The Pourhouse in that he also treats me like royalty when I visit. We stood on his balcony and listened to Mariah Carey and talked to his neighbors. Then he put on the Dolly Parton version of "I Will Always Love You."

While I was laughing and smiling, I was also crying. Maybe it's because I was mixing 5-hour energy drinks with copious amounts of alcohol.

"I loved him so much," I told Sean as he embraced me.
"I know," said Sean, even though I'm not even sure if he knew who I was talking about.

It was truly one of the best nights of my life, so it's only fitting that the following week proved amazingly difficult.

Anyone who has met me for more than ten seconds will not be surprised to know that I have issues with anxiety.

It's a double-edged sword. On one hand, it's what makes me Jakey, y'know? Especially in comedy. I am described as "high-energy." One of the comedians from the Facebook show even shared this on his own Facebook (which was super nice):

Was asked "is that just a bit or is he always like that" by a guy pointing at Jakey Emmert. I said "bit? No...not a bit. Do what so many boys before you have done...just hang on and enjoy the ride".

But I could be calmer. At work and in stand-up, I get told I talk too fast. My manager has suggested using my high energy for the better, and I found that to be constructive. I am used to being hyper and always being on Level Nine when the rest of the world is at Level Five.

But that Saturday was a different kind of anxiety. It was waking up with my heart rapidly beating on very little sleep. They closed the freeway. Jared and I were super late for work. I was such a nervous wreck that I made Jared drive. Maybe it was because Friday was such a great night that any day after that would seem like a letdown. I was drinking too much and having too much caffeine and not sleeping enough and I just needed to calm down. Tomorrow would be a new day.

The next day I felt the exact same way.

Monday came around and I just -- I could not. I woke up at 8 and work was at noon and I was going to jump out of my own skin and my mind was going a thousand miles a minute and I hated Jared and I hated everyone who was texting me and I hated myself and I hated everyone at the Mall of America and I JUST COULD NOT DO IT.

I called work and was my usual frantic self. "I'm sick!!" I cried. "I mean, I am, but I'm not!! I'm not peeing or puking but I just -- I can't!! I don't need the whole day off!! I just ... AAAGGGHHHH!"
"We'll be fine," my very calm co-worker told me. "We'll plan on seeing you at four."

Chuck took me to Dairy Queen. He is a nurse so we discussed anxiety. I went to work at five like a dedicated employee, and then Jared, my mom and I went to see a production in the Fringe Festival that my friend Robin was in. And things got a little better. I am trying to have less caffeine and I am trying to exercise more and be more aware of my emotions and control over them.

I made a CD mix with the Rainbow Interlude at the end. I listened to it over and over.

 

"Petals" is such a sad song. God damn. I didn't realize that she often performed the "Interlude" right after. Rainbow is a very good album from beginning-to-end. People don't really make albums with that in mind anymore. It initially wasn't my favorite, but it's grown on me.

I know there is a rainbow
For me to follow
To get beyond my sorrow
Thunder precedes the sunlight
So I'll be all right
If I can find that
Rainbow's end

I will be all right
If I can find that
Rainbow's end

Am I really going back to school? What if I don't get in? What if it's too hard? What if they make me take a math class? What if the 18-year-old boys are mean to me and think I'm creepy? What am I even doing? Should I just try to write a book? But what kind of book would it be? What if I lose my job? What if I stay at my job forever while my friends all get promoted and move to California? What if I lose all my hair? Will I be in debt my entire life? What is going to happen when my parents get old? Like, old old? Where will I be when I'm 30? How did my life become like this? Why did I live on the computer from ages 21 to 25 when I should have been out there living? Why can't I ever be on time for anything?

I will be all right
If I can find that
Rainbow's end

There are bugs in my room.

Next week: We say good-bye to summer! What will fall bring?

Loring Park Episode #33: They Shoot 25-Year-Old Gay Men, Don't They? (My Life in Three Months)

It's been three months, people! This episode will not be like the others. It is catch-up mode, to say the least.

What did I do this summer (and fall?)

I turned 27, which will be the most depressing thing that happens in this episode.

The night before, I brought the cast of They Shoot 25-Year-Old Gay Men, Don't They? to the Saloon for a field trip, so we could research our characters! My brother showed up for this photo op. The man in the background is T.J. the bartender, who correctly told Dane, "I'm a very important part in your brother's life." Ain't that the truth.

The real Jared was there, but the real Kevin wasn't, and the real "Randy" (Wesley) certainly wasn't. The actor who played him would see him later in September and tell me he looked too broski. I beg to differ. One can never be too broski.

As for my actual birthday, Kevin had to work and Wesley told me I looked hideous. I can really pick 'em.

The next day, Jared and I went and saw "The Heat" starring Sandra Bullock and Melissa McCarthy, and I spent $80 at Anthropologie, because I am a hoarder and that store is designed for hoarders like me.

                                THEY SHOOT 25-YEAR-OLD GAY MEN, DON'T THEY?
    My one-man show about aging in the gay community turned into an ensemble comedy about the club scene, unrequited love, and outgrowing your Peter Pan Syndrome.

In a perfect world, the real basis of these characters will show up to my apartment and sign their aliases.

It received an average of 4 out of 5 on the Minnesota Fringe Festival's website, and we had reviews ranging from 0 stars (one guy hated it. Hated it. You would think I spit on his mother), to five-star reviews from people I have never met. Our first performance was shaky as hell, but the crowd was so enthusiastic that they forgave us, and by show 3 I think we really "got" it. One of the actors quit/got fired after the first show, and my friend Liam had a cameo for the first performance, but I let him go after he kept showing up late. Theater isn't like stand-up where you can have people stall for you. The show starts on the dot, and it was a good lesson in discipline for myself as well.

It was put together in less than three months and was never going to be a polished show, but I think for the audience it was for, it was an enjoyable show, and it was a therapeutic way for me to work through what was one of the most troubling experiences of my young adulthood. Kevin saw the Saturday show and sat by my mother. He was really pissed at me because I made him fold programs in the corner, but I didn't think he wanted everybody to know that he was the basis for one of the characters.

Anyway, I just about shit my pants because the second performance was at 4 PM on a Sunday and wasn't as polished -- we were reeling from two of the actors departing -- but we did the best we could. I, however, was about to lose all bowel control, because I had seen on Facebook that Gay Oprah was going to be at this performance.

We were at the Xperimental Center of the U of M Rarig Center; and if you're not familiar, it's in the basement (the Rarig hosts three venues). So when we're preparing for our show and getting ready to enter the theater, set up, etc., we can see everybody that's going to be in line for our show. Our opening night was super exciting (we almost sold out, motherfuckers. Take THAT, Stephen Phillips and your mean 0-star review) because I could see all the people. Sunday I was stressing out because not only could I see Gay Oprah walking down the stairs, but he was wearing a shiny silver suit. Who does that? I later talked to Peter about it, and once Peter understood that Oprah is Southern, he explained that putting on your Sunday best is a Southern tradition.

Anyway, I wasn't super proud of the second performance, but I met Oprah after the show and he was incredibly gracious and very handsome in person and he smells like raspberries and strawberries and morning sex and honey. My friends make fun of me for seeing so starstruck about him ("He asked me out once," Kevin scoffed. "That's different," I said. "In your world, he is a human being. In mine, he is an omniscient diety"), but I will say, on a grown-up, adult level, that after I was visibly upset on Facebook about Stephen Phillips and his mean 0-star review, he wrote me a very nice and encouraging note, and in it he told me "Follow your art, and do it for you." I will remember that for as long as I continue to be a performer in any capacity.

Peter moved to Washington D.C. I gave him my Gucci windbreaker because the rule is that, if you let your friends wear something of yours and they look amazing in it, you just have to give them their due.

                                                 BOYS BOYS BOYS

I'll get to the problem ones in a minute, but first I will say that lately I have been hanging out with boys who a) have abs and b) are nice to me, and I keep waiting for them to turn into robots.

Tan Man and I went kayaking, which was an evil trick to lure me into exercise. WWE Dude and I see each other at the 19. Under Armour is always delightful to run into. Cagefighter and Piano Man have reached out to me. There are a lot of fish in the sea, people!

                                             FISH

I stayed at Kevin's house one weekend. The Friday night was amazing, and then the Saturday night we got in a big fight and the next day at work I cried in the bathroom. We still have moments, though, and I enjoy the moments. I like that he says "'Atta girl" when I successfully shut the bathroom window. I like that he lets me sing the Princess Jasmine part when he puts on "A Whole New World" from Aladdin. On the Fourth of July his stepdad asked why I used the ladder to get down from the roof instead of jumping off it, and he said, "Now, now. He's made of different stuff than we are". I couldn't tell if that was adorable or douchey, but I put it in my act that week, because I was emceeing for the entire week at the House of Comedy at Mall of America, and I'll be there again the week of Thanksgiving (shameless plug!) Sometimes he's mean, and it's not that I apologize for it, but I sometimes wonder if I'm the most feminine and dramatic man he's ever "been with" (for lack of a better term).

We also went to the Trail of Terror in Shakopee. His friend went with us and we got in a weird conversation on the way there that led me to icing him out. I was the only one at the attraction who was scared of anything, to the point that the actors were running ahead to tell the others that I was coming and that if they jumped out at me, they were guaranteed a loud shriek (and they got them). I held Kevin's arm the entire time and I enjoyed that he allowed me to do that.

We went to his house and felt like a scary movie. I, however, prefer scary movies if I have already seen them, so I volunteered Scream 2 or Carrie. We ended up on Cabin in the Woods, which made me scream like a little girl. First of all, it has 30 minutes of exposition and right when it started to get scary was when Kevin decided he wanted to take the blankets out of the dryer.

"This probably wasn't a good time for me to leave, was it?" he cackled from the basement. RUDE. Also, there's an oversize mutated tarantula toward the end, and that's my #1 fear (I blame Resident Evil games and Jumanji). Also, there was this:

 

Chris Hemsworth does nothing to me as Thor. Nothing. Maybe it's the get-up or the long hair. I thought nothing of him before this movie. I have realized that, only in this movie (which was filmed in 2010), I am madly in love with Chris Hemsworth.

It has nothing to do with who he might look like from my real life.

God dammit.

                                           CRYPTIC COMMENTARY

It has been six months. I almost lost friendships over it. I saw very good people as enemies or competition. I wrote a fucking play about it. I cried a lot. At dumb things. I still feel like crying when "We Can't Stop" by Miley Cyrus comes on because we slutty danced to that song a few times, and that song should not evoke pain. That song should evoke joy and the desire to do drugs.

I have not seen him in a month and I am almost okay with that.

Ok, that is not entirely true, in part because that night he told me I was balding. "That's because I pull my hair out from stress!" I yelled at him. "I had lustrous, Justin Bieber hair before you came into my life!"

I will say that I am content in the moments that I had, because as messy and confusing as it was, I had my moments, dammit, the moments that would have made Taylor Swift jealous.

                                            AWFUL ADULT THINGS

    I'm so close to bankruptcy it's not even funny. Oh, and I spent $260 at the salon for a full body wax, because I am disgusting. I won't ever have a boyfriend if I'm hairy and bankrupt, so now I have to pick one or the other. Besides, would you rather have a guy with chest hair or a guy with a bunch of ingrowns on his chest that looks like a 2-year-old did a dot-to-dot puzzle? You know it's the second one.

I got rid of cable and Internet because Comcast is the devil. As a result, I am at my mom's house all the damn time. She has LOGO!

I am going to die alone.

                                       ERIN GOT MARRIED

 My best friend got married! I look drunk in this picture, but I swear this was in the afternoon, and I was sleep-deprived and emotional. Here was my toast:

"Erin McCloskey. I was so happy to walk into this mansion and see the Eiffel Tower. I don't know if everybody here knows this, but that's where Robbie proposed to her. It's also where Erin and I became best friends. I had known her since kindergarten -- she had a long braid and I pulled it a lot -- but we weren't best friends until 17. We were on the class field trip to Paris, and we were the last two kids to go to the top of the Eiffel Tower. I was last because I lost my lift ticket after five minutes, and she was last because she ignored the instructions to wear sensible shoes, and had blisters and had to limp the whole way up.

We became best friends that day, in part because we found out we had the same favorite TV show, "Starting Over". It was the best bad show over. It was a daytime reality show in which six women lived in a house and had life coaches and goals and steps to reach those goals, and then when they got to their goal they got to graduate.  You remember! With Rhonda Britten and Iyanla Vanzant! At 2 PM on KARE 11!

Anyway, I feel that -- nine years later, and eight years after the show has been cancelled -- today is not just your wedding day but also your official graduation from the 'Starting Over' house.

You truly are family to me. My parents are here, my grandparents are here, and my aunt is here, which proves that. You're the closet thing my father will ever have to a daughter, and I am so grateful, because without you, that would be me.

I know we watched a lot of crappy chick flicks that talk a lot about how you 'found' a man or 'earned' a man or 'got' a man, and I hate that kind of language, so I am going to say that -- you ALLOWED a man in your life -- and allowed his love into your heart -- and we are all grateful. I love you."

                                      HALLOWEEN

      For Halloween, I was a man hunter and Jared was Mr. T. Literally five minutes after Jared left, someone showed up in full-on '80s Hulk Hogan wear, and the wrestling mark in me was so bummed that we couldn't have done a WrestleMania photo-op.

 I am excited for Christmas episodes of Loring Park! I should buy a slutty Santa hat.

xoxo

Loring Park Episode #32: Summer 2013 Recap MEGA-EPISODE (June)

Previously on Loring Park: Jakey went crazy! A one-man show turned into an ensemble comedy! And Pride weekend was looming ...


OK, so here's the deal. I miss this blog. I miss all of you. I miss the deep episodes with funny moments that encapsulated my best and worst evenings.

But I can't do the summer justice, because I am already three months behind. The memories will be too faded if I try to write them in the format of our previous 31 episodes. So let's buckle up and recap summer 2013, RAPID FIRE. This is going to take us from June to August, and then by Episode #33 we can be back to normal.

                                                    JUNE

1. The read-through for They Shoot 25-Year-Old Gay Men, Don't They? went swimmingly, even though I still didn't have a Jayden (twink character) and my original Randy (closeted hypermasculine broski who is not based on anybody I know) bailed out after the first reading. In a delicious twist of irony, the only gay guy he knew was Prince Eric, who was the guy that came to Kevin's apartment last summer on the first of many nights that he made me feel stupid.

2. Wesley and I went to The Saloon and he was mad at Quinn and Quinn was mad at him and then Quinn got mad at me and texted me "You should disappear for a while". I was now in a gay Mario Puzo novel. I thought I would feel a sense of victory, considering that when Wesley chose Quinn I spent an entire Sunday crying on my toilet while reading The Glass Castle, but I mainly felt bummed.

3. I ran into Under Armour and his friend Miles, who is a dreamy Nordic sex god. With a smile on his face, Miles told me all about how he still has a torch for Under Armour, and I was like oh my god, gay broski's can have feelings too! I told him to give me a hug and maybe he would feel better. It didn't, but I told him to hug me three more times. You can't shame the shameless.

4. We re-cast the broski! The actor came in wearing a douchey Nike T-shirt and I was sold! I met the twink actor through an actress who I "worked" with when I rehearsed a play for eight months that never happened. We met in Loring Park. I felt bad because he was approaching the role with a very serious actor's perspective -- What is his motivation? What is his back story? -- and I could only tell him that his character was a carefree babygay.

5. Joey, Jared and I reunited with Sina, who was visiting from Los Angeles! I made us take a cab because I was all sweaty thanks to wearing dress clothes, as I assumed Sina would expect nothing less. I was disappointed when I found out she was wearing sexy casualness. Nevertheless, I was not only happy to see her but also happy to be at the Gay '90s, because they have a big giant fan for the drag queens to cook their make-up, and I surreptitiously used it to stop being a sweat monster when it wasn't otherwise occupied.

6. A picture of my dick ended up on my Facebook for three hours before it finally got deleted. DO NOT ASK ME WHY I HAD A DICK PIC ON MY PHONE. I am not Anthony Weiner. I was only sending it to one person. Anygay, I was walking through the park while Facebook chatting, and I dropped my phone in the mud, and it uploaded to Facebook every picture that I had on file. My very own sex scandal! I panicked at The Saloon as Liam and I failed to delete it from my phone. I took a cab to the 19, where my friends Bjorn and Jody were savvy enough to take it down. They don't make a card that says "Thank You For Staring My Penis Picture in the Face and Deleting it as I Had a Meltdown at The 19", but if they did, I would frame it and give it to Jody.

It was the worst thing ever!

One of my gal pals from college was like, "That was your penis?"

Under Armour told me it was impressive.

It was not the worst thing ever but it was still quite awful!

Kevin showed up at The 19 and was his usual Hollister dreaminess. We went to The Saloon, where everyone was being really nice to me. Go figure. As we left the bar, we found ourselves guiding a bachelorette party from Winnipeg to their hotel. It was raining that sexy summer rain, where it's light and misty. I enjoyed myself because I was with five fun girls, and learned all of their names. Kevin, on the other hand, got stuck navigating with Celine, who was the bitchy maid of honor that refused to listen to his directions. The nice girls in my posse told me we could have shots when we got to their room.

"Is he your boyfriend?" they kept asking. I blushed and did not really answer. We arrived at The Hotel Minneapolis and one of the bridesmaids began to pour me Ketel One. There was a random girl sleeping in the bed who was happy to have male visitors. Kevin sat across from her on the other queen bed.

"Hey," she smiled. "You're cute. What's your name?"
"Kevin," he said.
"Kevin," she repeated. Oh, dear. This poor girl.
"You guys have to leave!" Celine yelled. "I'm tired!"
"Celine!" one of my new gal pals cried. "These boys walked us all the way here! I said they could have shots!"
"No!" Celine yelled. "We have to get up early!"

Then Celine took off her shirt and then she took off her bra. The theme of this evening was apparently nudity. "Look!" she cried. "My tits are out! This means you have to leave!"
"I don't really care," I said as I sipped the drink that was promised to me. "Gay guys aren't repulsed by breasts."
"Are you gay, too?" the girl in bed asked Kevin. He nodded affirmatively and I could hear her heart crack.

Kevin and I eventually left, and we got a cab back to my apartment. We knew we couldn't stay there because I do not have air conditioning and Kevin hates my apartment anyway. We called Blue & White but they wouldn't give us an estimate of their arrival, so Kevin scoffed, huffed and puffed and we called a town car to drive us to his house. The car arrived promptly, but the price they gave us was $20 higher than what we were told, so Kevin did not leave a tip.

We sat in his gazebo and watched the rain and I showed him the script of the play I wrote and for the first time in our complicated friendship, I think he realized that I was more than just an underachieving and unaccomplished airhead.

"He just left me," he said, and the tears on his face mixed with the rain. "There was never a warning
"Did you wake up crying?" I asked. I have never had a failed relationship, but I did wake up crying.
He nodded.
"Me, too," I said. Then I started crying, too.

In the morning he put on a red Hollister shirt and a white baseball cap. "Let's get breakfast," he smiled.
"You look so broski right now," I grinned. Then I pulled him back in bed.

7. I was sick with this cough that wouldn't go away so I went back to my doctor, who is dreamy. He looks like the husband in a Lifetime movie. He prescribed me Prednisone, but he told me he was worried because "you are already pretty squirelly." I did not know squirelly could be used to describe anybody over the age of ten. I was glad he said that, as I used it for the two stand-up gigs I had in June, which were at CAMP Bar and at The Portland Emporium. The latter venue is a house that comedians live in and they turn the living room into a stage. It was hotter than hell but it was also awesome. I wore my new Joe's Jeans.

8.  Quinn reached out to me and apologized, and I was proud of the both of us for acting like grown-ups in the situation. I know I talk way too much like I'm a Bravo Housewive, but we will always be in the same "circles", and it was important for us to be in the same room and not want to strangle each other.

9. I went to DJ Flip Phone, which is every month at Honey! The theme for June was PRIDE 1999, and I was jealous of someone who had a pouka shell necklace, in part because I was trying to track one down for the play (there was a character based on Kevin). Wesley was at The Saloon and was bitching at me to get there, even though I told him I was going to Flip Phone. Cooper gave me a ride there under the provision that I paid for his cover. Good enough!

I got to The Saloon and was wearing my LOVE IS OVERRATED t-shirt. Chuck had tied it into a knot so it was a tacky midriff belly shirt, which was fun for comedic reasons, but I couldn't get it undone. I'm sure I looked ridiculous. Wesley was angry because he can be out of his comfort zone when I am not there. "You look like a fucking faggot," he hissed. This is indefensible, but it is Wesley, so I will try to defend it anyway and say that he does not like when I dress that way because it represents an overt expression of sexuality that he cannot have in his life.

Or maybe he just thinks I'm disgusting.

I chose to go to the patio and talk to Football Guy. I always thought Football Guy's name was David Lopez, and it turns out his real name sounds nothing like David Lopez. Maybe it was a dream. Football Guy's boyfriend kept staring daggers at me, which made no sense because his boyfriend has abs that could be put in a museum. He was clearly not going to be leaving with my scrawny vanilla goodness. Calm down, girl.

Then Wesley grabbed my phone and texted awful things to Quinn from it. I was MORTIFIED because Quinn and I had just made peace! Quinn told me the next day that he figured it was Wesley and not me because of the horrible syntax and grammar, and I was relieved.

10. "You know he's unfixable."

11. He is mad at the world, and I am the world.

12. June ended with PRIDE WEEKEND!!!

I got the whole weekend off. I LOVE MY JOB I LOVE MY JOB I LOVE MY JOB. I knew it was going to be exceptional this year, because Joey is my neighbor now and we would be close to all the action. I was pleasantly surprised to see Wesley on Friday night, as when I first re-connected with him several months ago he told me he wasn't doing any Pride events in fear of being seen. I considered it a small victory for him, even if he was wearing a neon green golf knit. Jared and Joey were there too (natch!), and Wesley encouraged Jared to do the splits, which I thought was his way of trying to apologize for past boorish behavior. It was a night of warm fuzzies, y'all.

"I want to go dance," he said, but we couldn't leave because Mariah Carey was playing!

We danced to "Dreamlover" and if it would have lasted a minute longer, I would have needed CPR.
I left The Saloon that night with Joey and Sprite, along with two creepy dudes who were in the back seat with me and kept making out. And before that, there was a random drunk man sleeping in Sprite's back seat that we didn't even know! Sprite politely asked him to leave and he obliged. Sprite was driving a Ferrari and couldn't figure out how to get out of the parking ramp because he misplaced his ticket. "But I have a $20," he told the parking agent. Joey put his debit card in the machine and then the machine ate it. We mercifully departed from the garage, and Sprite told us he knew of a party in uptown. It started raining, and Sprite was driving fast. When we arrived at the house in uptown, Sprite admitted that he didn't know what house it was or who was having the party or if it was even happening. The three of us slept at Joey's apartment and the next morning, Sprite made 17 different comments about the lack of a couch.

I regrouped to take a nap, and Joey and I went emergency Pride shopping! There were new outfits and liquor to be purchased! It was fun stopping at our workplace, as our colleagues were genuinely supportive of our weekend off. Not to be sacrilegious, but Pride really is like our Christmas.

I wanted to be sure to go to an event for Pride weekend, so I chose Lollipop at the Skyway Lounge. I ended up standing in line next to all the muscle gays and felt unsure of myself. This happens every Pride weekend.

Manila Luzon of RuPaul's Drag Race was performing, and a brazen co-worker of mine instantly took a picture with her. I love it! In a delightful sidebar, her opening drag queen went to a show of mine at the U of M!

Last year at Pride I took a random picture with this super cute boy in the elevator at the Doubletree. I never saw him again but made it my profile picture when I was having a bad day. I saw him at the event and I was right next to him standing by a fan, and instead of saying anything I ran to the bathroom. I wonder why I am single.

Friends were texting me saying I should go to The Saloon, and I assured them I was planning to meet him there, but I wanted to see Manila perform first! I have had a newfound appreciation of RuPaul's Drag Race (I've never watched a full-length episode of it, but I feel like I've watched the whole show via Tumblr), and Manila looked amazing. Plus, she's from Minneapolis! Represent! I also loved that she mentioned appearing out of drag to see Raja the previous night at First Avenue. Queens supporting other queens gives me a warm fuzzy.

I was heading out when I ran into Kevin! He told me he was staying at the Doubletree. Running into him was a delightful surprise, considering that he refers to The Saloon as "the zoo".

But to the zoo I went! Jared and Joey were there again, as was Wesley and his friend Howie. Howie is twinky and attractive, and has always been nice to me. I was mature, except when we were all in line and I told a boy next to me that Wesley is in love with me and just needs to get over me. Oh! There's another new character! A boy named Hugh!

Hugh was seeing Joey for a few weeks but he wanted things to be serious and Joey didn't. He is young (younger than Joey even) and didn't know any better. He came into work once and gave Joey a rose, and I pouted because the only thing the boys I like have ever given me is a headache. I said hello to him as I waited two hours to find an empty bathroom. I reunited with Wesley and Howie near the stage. "He has a crush on you," Howie said, but I rolled my eyes and paid no attention to it. It was triangle communication. It was unnecessary. It was confusing. I went to the dance floor where I ran into Football Guy! I hoped to be an adult and say more than five words this time.

"Football player!" I cried.
"Comedian!" he yelled. I was good at this.
"Your eyes are so blue," I whispered.
"What?!"
"NOTHING!"
"Hey," he smiled. "Is that broski still giving you trouble?" Oh my god! Why am I always talking about broski when I am drunk? It must have been the night he called me a faggot.
"No, he's fine," I said.
"Okay," Football Guy smiled. "I'll beat him up for you if you need me to."
"DON'T!" I cried. "You probably could. He's up to your chest but he's built pretty solid."

I went home close to 3, and Kevin called asking if I wanted to stop at his room. I was wired so I accepted his offer. I took a bike cab because I thought it would be cheap, but it turns out it was a special event so they charged me $30 or something insane like that. I paid anyway, because Pride Weekend money is like Las Vegas money.

Kevin was staying in a room with three beds in it (a double and two singles) with a hallway separating the singles. His friend Raymond was sleeping in the other single bed, and two dudes were passed out in the double. Why was I even here? It was so late!

I don't even remember what we discussed, and I refused to take my shirt off because I had been excessively attempting to shave my chest and I was a red, blotchy unsexy mess. I still enjoyed myself because spooning is an American pastime. However, I had to get up early because I was going to watch the parade from the rooftop the next morning with Liam and Cagefighter. Ryan Robertson briefly showed up to grab some alcohol. You see everybody during Pride weekend!

I woke up with a sense of urgency in the morning. It was time for the parade and brunch, the best two things in the world! "I have to go!" I cried to Kevin, who is always a zombie in the morning. "Aren't you gonna watch the parade?"
"Mmmmmmffffffggghhh," he responded.
"Well, it was good to see you," I said. "Give me a kiss." I surprised the both of us with the level of my directness, but at least the boy reciprocated.

I sprinted outside of the hotel and the actor who was playing the broski in They Shoot 25-Year-Old Gay Men, Don't They? was outside of the hotel! I said hello, but had to be terse as I was already running late and I didn't want to keep Cagefighter waiting. I brazenly chose to wear a cut-off midriff shirt and Quiksilver short shorts as if I had the body for it. I met Cagefighter and Liam on the rooftop of Union, and we could barely see anything. We ended up going to Chambers and spent most of the parade getting drunk indoors. It was just like Stonewall, you guys.


Liam went to vamoose with others, and I was to spend the afternoon in the park with Cagefighter. Unfortunately, I totally ruined what was supposed to be a sexy afternoon. First, I had to pee every five seconds. Then I was convinced I had a urinary tract infection and then I was convinced I had a sexually transmitted disease even though I hadn't actually been engaging in that kind of behavior. Then my eyes started watering to the point that I couldn't see and Cagefighter had to guide me around Loring Park like a seeing-eye dog. He eventually got tired of me, and I didn't blame him. I took some eye drops, bought the pills that make your pee neon orange, and took a nap. I briefly went back to the park, where I ran into Becks! We discussed my Internet porn career and then his friend told me my penis looked like it had an infection, and then I told his friend to shut the fuck up. On a lighter note, I ran into my uncle Ander and enjoyed a light dinner with him, his girlfriend and a delightful lesbian couple. I felt truly lucky that during Pride weekend I could enjoy the company of both my gay family and my real family, as not everyone in my circle has that.

OK, so here's how disgusting I am. I had no clean underwear. I first went to The Saloon with no underwear, but my undercarriage was sweating profusely and I could not enjoy myself. I know, you guys. I am disgusting. I walked back to my apartment and mercifully found a clean pair. At that point, Peter had texted me and I decided I would wait until he came to my apartment. I was so excited to see him, as he was soon going to move to the East Coast for school. Also joining us was the actor playing the twink in the show. We pre-gamed at my apartment and didn't leave until midnight. Wesley was at The Saloon and was upset that I was taking so long, but that was par for the course at this point.

We got to The Saloon and Wesley was talking to a policeman. He saw my outfit and looked like he was about to hurl.
"You look like a 12-year-old girl," he said. "You look absolutely ridiculous."
"Excuse me?" I cried. "It is Pride Weekend." I looked just fine in my midriff shirt and camo short shorts. Wesley, on the other hand, was in a golf knit and what I can only describe as "dad shorts". "You look ridiculous."

Wesley's demeanor was upsetting me, so I ditched him and had a tequila shot with Cagefighter. I honestly didn't need to be with him that night. This was to be a night of fun and mingling, and his cranky pants were not going to bring me down.


I took pictures with my disposable camera (a Pride tradition!) and was happy to pose with Peter and Under Armour and random hot shirtless guys. My new tradition was to boo whenever a hot guy put his shirt back on. Peter and I continued to mingle when we ran into Kevin!

"Kevin!" I cried. "I thought you were going back home!"
"No, we got a room downtown," he said. "You guys should come after this."
"Okay," I giggled, because Kevin turns me into a teenager. There was a random short man he was talking to, but I was too full of pride to roll my eyes.

After The Saloon shut down and Pride was sadly over, Peter and I found ourselves in Kevin's swanky hotel room. His friend Raymond was in the bed again. Peter revealed his newfound BANGIN' body and talked about his exercise routine. At one point he mentioned that he benched 120 for 10 reps. I sat down next to him.

"Do it!" I joked. But then he actually did it.
"Let go of me!" Peter yelled. "I can actually do it!"
"I'm gonna fall on you and kill you!" I cried. But nope, that boy was able to bench me ten times, and Raymond cracked up.

Peter found himself, erm -- canoodling with Raymond, at which point the awkward short man came to the room. Kevin always does this. I swear, we would be at the altar and he would be like, "Oh, Jakey, this is Corey. He's gonna be my weekend husband. That's cool, right?" COMMENCE EYE ROLL.

Still, I wanted to be nice and hear the short guy's story. Turns out he was an amateur photographer. He told us he photographed both nature and porn. Um, okay, then. I just started drinking more. He mentioned something about holding grudges.
"Are you a Cancer?" I asked.
"I don't need to tell you," the short guy said.
"Really?" I asked. "I innocuously was inquiring about your zodiac sign because holding grudges is a typical trait of them. You're acting like I asked for your goddamned Social Security number."
Kevin's mouth was moving, almost as if he was trying to prevent a smile.
"Well, I'm sorry," the guy said. "I didn't know it was such a big deal to you."
"I don't really care," I said. "I was bored and was trying to make myself interested in this conversation."
"Jakey, why don't you go to bed?" Kevin asked.
"Ugh, fine," I whined, and I crawled into his bed.

"So, you're sure you're straight?" Kevin asked the gross photographer.
"Yeah," lied the gross photographer.
"But you've been tempted before?" Kevin asked.

I WAS NOT DOING THIS AGAIN. I had done this enough times. I was not going to lie in bed while Kevin banged this photographer.

"I'm leaving," I announced as I stormed out of bed.
"What, it's 4:30 in the morning----?" Kevin said.
"Whatever," I said. "Have a good night. Peace out."

I slammed the door behind me, ready to do the walk of shame down Nicollet Avenue.

It was 4:30 in the morning, as Kevin said, and there was glitter all over the sidewalk. There was also nary a soul. It was just me. I felt like I was in a gay zombie horror movie. I began to feel nervous and vulnerable in my midriff shirt and short camo shorts. Wesley was right. I did look ridiculous. Also, I think I left my keys in that asshole Kevin's hotel room.

Mercifully, I ran into Victor at an intersection.
"Jakey," he said. "Is that you?"
"Yes," I said. "Is this real life, Victor? Are we dreaming?"
"I can't find my hotel," he said. "I'm staying at The Millennium."
"I know where that is," I said. "I will take you there."

I slept in his bed. I would have spooned him but he had glitter all over his body, and glitter takes forever to get out of anything (I still had some on my face for a week after Pride, and I tried my best to avoid those full of it).

I woke the next morning, frantically calling Peter and Kevin. Neither was answering their phones. I decided to walk back to the fancy hotel, which was connected to a tower in the skyway. It was now Monday. Most of Minneapolis was in business attire. I, on the other hand, was still rocking my midriff shirt and camo short shorts. I was supporting the troops, god dammit.

They still didn't answer when I got to the Marquette Hotel, so I walk-of-shamed all the way down Nicollet Avenue again, and had to be let into my apartment by the building managers. I was preparing to write a check to replace my keys when Peter called! He had my keys! And he and Kevin were still at the hotel! I agreed to drive us to the after-Pride party at Lawrence's houses, which is a bigger deal than the damn parade.

The after-pride party is when Lawrence hosts all of Minneapolis at his house, and you basically drink more than you do during the weekend, but it is still called the Recovery Party. Just go with it.

I went over details with Peter first, and then, because I am a teenager, I asked if Kevin banged the short photographer.
"Oh, no, honey," Peter said. "That boy slept on the couch."
"He didn't even get the bed?" I asked. "They didn't even snuggle?"
"Nope. Boy got couched."

I still had to smooth things over with Kevin, so I called him as well.
"I didn't realize you were so upset," he said.
"I was projecting," I said. "I was still mad about somebody else."
"Who?"
"You told me to stop talking about him, so I don't want to bring him up."
"Well, I forget."
"The broski."
"Oh, yes. Him. Yeah, I don't like when you talk about him. It makes me .. oddly jealous."

Kevin and Raymond went to the recovery party on their own, but Peter and I had to run errands! We had to change clothes, buy underwear because my lazy ass still hadn't done laundry, take showers, stop to get his paycheck, and buy food and drinks for the party to be good guests! I was proud of us that we got there before 5 P.M., and even used blonde ambition to get from St. Paul to North Minneapolis on a quicker route than our GPS was sending us on.

"Your boyfriend is here," Liam was texting me.
"Which one?" I asked, but I knew he meant Kevin.

It was a bit awkward when we first arrived because Chuck was there. I wouldn't have said that Chuck and I had been fighting lately, but he was getting frustrated with my constant state of Kevin Kevin Kevin Wesley Wesley Wesley, and I was worried he would be upset that I arrived with Peter. Everything ended up okay, and with Peter's blessing, I went up to Chuck first.

"Your boyfriend is here," Chuck laughed.
"He's not my boyfriend," I said, and I looked over at Kevin, who was standing by the fence with strangers, smoking a Merit. His gut was protruding. He didn't use to smoke.
"Yep," I said. "That's my hubby."

Peter and I went to go make cocktails.

"Hurry up!" I cried. "I want to go flirt with Kevin."
"What?" Kevin asked, who was right behind me.
"God dammit," I said. "Hi, how are you?"

I continued flirting and mingling, but Kevin soon voiced that he wanted to go home. To be fair, it was almost 7:00 and he had been there for five hours, the first three of which were without me.

"Okay," I said. "It was good to see you."
"Can't you drive me home?" he asked.
"Ugh, nooooo," I said. "You live so far awayyyyyyy."
"Don't," Peter said. Peter was upset with Kevin because Kevin had spent much of the day boasting about his education and socioeconomic status. I tried to explain that that is because Kevin achieved such education and socioeconomic status with the stack decked against him, but, just as with Wesley, I had to stop apologizing for boorish behavior of the objects of my affection.
"I'll come right back," I said. I was upset, too, because Ryan Robertson had just shown up, and it's like, Pride tradition for me to awkwardly flirt with Ryan Robertson. I also could tell Peter was uncomfortable with being alone with certain people.
"Do you promise?" Peter said.
"Yes," I said, and I meant it.

Kevin and I got to my car.
"I had to get out of there," he said. "TOO MUCH GAYNESS. It was like the gay zoo in there."
"Whatever," I blasted, because I still couldn't believe I was doing this. "You masculine gay men think you're God's gift to the world."
"That's really harsh," he said. "Take that back."
"No," I said, because I was a mature adult.

I took my shirt off in the car because I was roasting. "Will I get sunburned in the car?" I asked.
"Really?!" he asked. "You get sunburned any time the sun hits your skin. Wow. I had maybe too high of an opinion of you."
"SO RUDE," I said. "I'm driving you all this way."
"I don't think you should go back to the party," he said. "I think we should just hang out and drink at my house."
"No!" I cried. "I promised Peter I would go back. And I have other friends there."
"Is this because I don't have a backwards baseball cap on?"
Well-played, Kevin Thomson. Well-played.
"You were really mad last night," he said.
"It was deja vu all over again," I said. "The very first time I hung out with you at your apartment you pulled that shit where you brought somebody else over. I wasn't gonna deal with it."
"Well, you clearly liked me much more than I knew you did," he said. Yepppppppppppp.

"I don't think I can ever have a relationship ever again," he said. "But my mom won't stop raving about you. I really like you, and I know you like me, and I don't know why we don't ever do anything about it."




"And now you're not saying anything."

What I was thinking: Why did this conversation not happen a year ago? Six months ago, even? Yes, I *was* crazy about you, but in January you decided you liked Quinn instead, and that was when I began learning how to let you go. And now there's this other boy in the picture who has cut my heart out and pissed on it. I just can't deal with this right now, broseph!

We clarified his boyfriend situation (his ex-boyfriend still lists them as an item on Facebook because he can't let go. Allegedly.) I told him to not expect full-on intercourse because I don't do that right now. I even used the word intercourse. I know.

I did not go in the house because he forgot he had co-workers over (Kevin is not as closeted the way Wesley is, but I don't think he is openly gay at his workplace, which I understand and respect). I got out of the car and couldn't stop smiling. What the what. I said I would come to his Fourth of July party.

"I'm over parties like the one I was at today," I said.
"I love them!" I said."I'm social! Say hi to your mom."
"See!" he cried. "Exactly!"

I stopped at the liquor store on the way home and took a cab back to the party. I sat across from someone who was telling a story, and I made the mistake of trying to dive in.
"This is an A-B conversation," he hissed.
"Well, you're a real C," is the response that I thought of four days later. I would find myself seated across from the only asshole at the recovery party. Shade is for lounging, even in the summertime.

A friend who works at CVS graciously agreed to develop my disposable camera for me. Peter and I cabbed back home to Loring Park and ordered sandwiches. I gave him my Gucci jacket as a going-away present, because I looked okay in it, but that boy just looked bangin'.

Next week: We recap July! I turn a year older! So does America! And will the show go on?

 

 

 

 

 

 

Loring Park Episode #31: Knowing the Score

Previously on Loring Park:

Holy crap, people. This episode starts at the beginning of June. We basically have to go over the entire summer in just two or three episodes. There will be drama, tears, and laughter.

It is difficult to write about things that happened so long ago. Not just from a memory standpoint, but because a lot can change in the span of a season. One of the reasons that this episode is so delayed is that much of my summer was spent working on a Fringe Festival play, which transformed from a one-man show into an ensemble comedy that I was writing, directing, and starring in.

But the other reason -- the immature, shameful reason -- is knowing that, at least for part of this episode, I'm a real piece of shit.

Here we go.