He’s a gay Asian from New York.

I know this because back in 1998 when I stumbled across his website, this is what appeared as his tagline. I was simply looking to see if there was, in fact, a djparis.com. Turns out there absolutely was and is.

Now, as a straight  Caucasian  from Chicago this could not have been more hilarious for my family. Of course they started telling everyone that their son had built a website and to go visit djparis.com. Which, naturally, is an awesome joke.

D.J. is a great guy. (I’m talking about me – zing!). I reached out to him back in 1998 and asked if I could have an email address with his domain. He thought the idea was hilarious.

I have to credit him with being an inspiration to me finally getting online to start a blog. His website has changed probably a dozen times over the years. When it launched it received a ton of publicity for being a popular gay men’s resource for all things New York. He’s received  accolades  and was one of the early blog pioneers.

I remember when he added a webcam feed so you could watch him work and live twenty-four hours a day. Today that sounds like a self-absorbed douche move, but at the time it was a really innovative and cool idea. And I did check the webcam every once in awhile to see what I would have been doing had I been gay and Asian. He was always integrating new ideas and features to his site and it was exciting to watch it evolve.

We’ve tried to meet up a few times when I’ve visited my sister in New York, but it hasn’t worked out. We’ve played Words with Friends and he’s always beaten me. I don’t ever assume, however, that I can beat an Asian at games academic. The next time I head east I’m definitely taking him out for a cocktail in the Village. That’s not a gay/Village joke – my sister lives there. I could insert a really great gay Village joke here, but it would be too easy.

If you haven’t found your same name internet opposite I encourage you to do so now. Be careful though, not everybody will strike awesome like me. You could find out your person posts weird religious rants on Facebook or is into that disturbing My Little Pony adult online thing. Don’t be too quick to give out your P.O. Box.

Also, if you learn that your  doppelganger is doing five to ten in San Quentin for aggravated battery but loves to use the prison library computer, proceed with caution. He’s going to need a place to crash when he hits parole.

Even though we’ve never spoken on the phone or seen what happens when two D.J. Paris’ shake hands (my suspicion is the world will implode onto itself), I feel a connection. Not a connection that weirdo twins have where they know when the other person is having sex and stuff. A milder kinship. Even so I need to thank him for when I saw my name on his extremely popular website I realized it was possible for me to build something of value online, too.

I don’t know if gay people celebrate Thanksgiving but, if they do, I hope D.J. has a nice holiday. I’d like to mention that he’s staring in a new film coming out shortly. Watch the trailer here.

image courtesy of djparis.com

Focus on someone else other than me.

It’s time to acknowledge my girlfriend Jessica for a for a few reasons. First, and most recent is that she stayed behind in Chicago while I went to New York to hang out at BlogHer for the weekend. While this doesn’t unique I should mention a few items.

• She doesn’t live in Chicago, but Atlanta
• She drove up from Atlanta to Chicago to do this

And, oh yeah, this is the second time she’s made the drive in the past two months.  The drive is about 13 hours and I’m not sure a woman ever spent thirteen hours doing anything for me – and I once was married!

So, okay, she drove up and hung out and watched tv in your condo all weekend. Cry me a river!

Well, it’s true that she probably plowed through seven seasons of Law and Order SVU. Still have never met a man who watches that show, by the way. But it’s also true that she totally redesigned and organized my entire closet.

When my then-wife had moved out during our separation she emptied our bedroom closet which was entirely stocked with her digs. I assumed she was coming home, so I kept my clothes in the second bedroom. After she divorced I just never moved the clothes back into the master bedroom. Plus, two of the clothing racks had ripped out of the wall.

I have always meant to get it fixed up, and even drew plans. My mom even gave me her credit card number to do this for my birthday. I just never made the order for some reason. No psychological block or anything – I just sort of forgot. I’ve been dressing in my second bedroom for five years, so I wasn’t that uncomfortable with it.

Finally Jessica was disgusted enough to take action. Not only did she completely redo the closet, but then moved ALL of my clothes over there. This was a major taks, and I had no idea she was doing it.

This is reminiscient of her second visit when I woke up late in the morning and she was already going through my kitched reorganizing things. When she saw me she became nervous and asked if it was okay that she was moving things around.

Okay? You’re asking me if you can voluntary do physical labor to better organize my kitchen? Hmm… Let me think about whether this offends my sensibilities. Well… this is a tough decision, and I’m not happy about it, but, okay, go ahead.

A woman was reorganizing my kitchen and cleaning and throwing out my old, gross crap! Jackpot, right!

During BlogHer Jessica sent a few photos and I nearly cried. Not only did she drive up from Atlanta, shuttle me to the airport, take care of my dog, water the plants and flowers, but then install closet hardware and move all my clothes into such closet.

If you are not familiar with how I met my girlfriend, you should click here to read the story – trust me, it’s worth it.

I’d also like to say (although I think I’ve written this before but too lazy to check) that the only reason I have her in my life is that I started a blog. She was a reader and I pursued her because she was a hot reader. Here we are nearly a year later, and I couldn’t be happier.

Okay, that’s enough about her. Let’s get back to the most important person in the universe. I’m looking at him in the mirror right now. Handsome mofo.

Jessica is at a fashion conference and so I have the dogs to myself.

Dirk is rotund while Meepers is fit.  That’s all that is necessary to say.

Now you understand the animal situation in my bed, let me explain what else is going on this week.  On Wednesday I head to NYC for BlogHer.  It’s a blogging convention for – wait, for it – ladies.  Four thousand bloggers and their estrogen will be filling downtown New York for three days.  Why am I going?  First of all I only know like two guy bloggers.  Plus, many of my readers are also girl-bloggers.  Lastly, the website I write for, AimingLow, is hosting one of the after-parties.

The two keynotes are Katie Couric and Martha Stewart.  I very well my start menstruating during their talks.

What I learned at BlogWorld last year was that it is very important that I find my tribe.  I can’t tell you how valuable it was to meet people with a similar passion.  There are a ton of travel bloggers, mom/dad bloggers, fashion bloggers, memoir bloggers, and even one guy who bragged about how he beat cancer.  What a showoff!

Up until last year my favorite annual activity was going up to the Renaissance Faire.  Now, before you label me as “that guy who goes to Renaissance Faires” please realize I don’t dress up in the outfits. I don’t speak the queen’s  english. I don’t play D&D, and I understand the joust is fixed.  But for some reason I dig it.  There’s a lot to do and tons of great shows.  If you’ve never thrown an axe into a wall, fired a crossbow at a target, or taken down a turkey leg, I feel sorry for you.

Also, if you’ve never seen an overweight chick in a  chain-mail bikini, you simply haven’t lived.

But now I have two things I look forward to each year.  he Renaissance Faire and blog conference.  Those are my things.  Some guys go to Las Vegas and others white water raft.

You know what I just realized – not once has anyone invited me to Las Vegas nor white water rafting.  And I know my friends do stuff like that, the jerks. I hope they capsize while rafting down the Hoover Damn. (I tried to tie those two things together as best I could)

Anyhow, I wrote a post a few weeks back about  how you need heroes.  You also need fun shit that you do every year that you’re into.  Find your tribe of losers who are into the same lame stuff that you dig.  Two of my readers met at a Harry Potter meetup group, and have been dating a year.  And they’re super cool.  They were also super ashamed of being Harry Potter nerds, and while I totally judge them as misfits for it, I also admire their dedication.

Be proud to be into your stuff.  Share your nerd below.  We’ll all judge you.  Immediately.

photo credit:  Templarion  via  photo pin  cc

So, this year I decided to do something that made sense for me.   Do I even like plays?   I have no idea.   I haven’t seen a traditional play since high school and that was the one I was in about the Scopes monkey trial (I had one line).

My friend John works at The Goodman and told me I should buy a subscription to their upcoming season.   I did, and purchased two seats for the next five performances over the year.   If you’ve ever done this you know how insanely expensive it is.   I just didn’t want to go to five plays by myself.   Seemed way too sad to me.

I figured this would be a great idea if and when I start dating again.   But since the only woman in my life who was a potential dating candidate rejected me for fear I may pass on unfavorable genetic qualities to her future child, I don’t have anyone to ask.

My mother is an obvious choice, but she’s visiting my sister in New York currently.   They just saw The Book of Mormon and said it was amazing.

Anyway, in an extreme act of generosity, my parents recently handed down one of their cars since my ex-wife took ours when she moved to California.   You’d think I would have crossed off “Send a thank you note” off my to–do list by now as it’s been a few weeks, but I haven’t yet.

I don’t want to come off like a selfish dick because the fact is that I call them nearly every day, and am always overthanking them for the car.

Tonight’s the first in the season,  Red.

So, since I didn’t really have anyone here in the city to ask, I called my father who lives three hours away.   I’m sure he’s been a little lonely since my mom is out east this week, but I wasn’t sure if he could take time off in the middle of the week to see a show.

He was thrilled.   We’ve never done a father–son play date (who has?), but it just seemed like the perfect fit – two guys who don’t go to plays going to a play together.

I’m just excited I didn’t have to hock the extra tickets on Craigslist and have to sit next to the bozo that can’t find a date either.

Actually, I paid, but it was her idea.

In my profession, which is managing Chicago real estate agents, I am constantly recruiting.

Many firms simply do a terrible job of supporting their realtors and leasing agents, and I am always reaching out asking if they would be interested to join our firm.

I try to schedule one to two interviews a day, spending an hour with each recruit.

This morning, halfway through my first meeting, the woman I was with asked, “Hey, I’ve never been to Manny’s Deli.   Want to do the rest of our interview there? ”

I’m lucky to be around the corner from the best deli in all of Chicago.   If you’ve eaten at Katz or Carnegie in New York, you know the value of an amazing Jewish deli.

Since it was only 10:45am, I wasn’t ready for pastrami or corned beef on rye.   I ordered matzo ball soup and she did the same plus a knish.

And then I forgot to eat the rest of the day.

I really just get so busy, I have a hard time remembering to eat at work.   If I don’t schedule it, I often times just don’t end up eating anything.

It’s not just forgetfulness, however.   There’s clearly a disconnection from my body going on.   I am working on this with my therapist.

I have protein bars in my desk, so it’s not like I eat nothing during the day, but it’s clearly not enough.

Today, aside from the soup I had at Manny’s, I only ate two protein bars.

And here’s what happens.

By the end of the day, I’m obviously wiped out.   But it’s more than that.

I start to get emotional.

You know that one friend who,   every time he gets drunk, turns into a sobering mess of, “I love you!   No, I mean I really love you!”

For my group of friends, this would be Brian.   We all make jokes about how many beers it will take until Brian starts crying and telling us we’re the greatest guys in the world.

Now, lest you think I am making fun of Brian, I am not.   Personally, I’m touched to hear this sort of thing.   I wish I had the courage to show such vulnerability.

But, since I don’t drink, and the Western world doesn’t generally associate emotion with masculinity, it’s difficult for me to share at this level.

That is, until I stop eating.

By the end of the day today, I was consumed with gratitude for some of my agents.   I even called a few and left voicemails telling them how thankful I was that they worked with us.   I was drunk on low blood sugar.

Now, the real work is to figure out how to get to these feelings without starving myself.   And then to have the courage to say them aloud.