Wednesday, July 26, 2017

My 32 Year Old Gay Asian Body



I feel as though everyone has experienced some sort of body dysmorphia / self consciousness in their life.  More now with Instagram hotties getting a shit ton of attention.  I really like this picture above, but I can't stop starring at that gut that rolls over my waist band.. so that means I won't post it on instagram/facebook.

I've once daydreamed that in my 30's I would have an amazingly ripped body that I wouldn't mind showing off.   Or even in my 50s like this Singaporean hottie Chuan Do. But I've shifted my focus to lowering my cholesterol with turmeric and cardio and I'm proud to say that I'm healthy!  I have a goal of losing some weight so that I'm no longer considered overweight for my height based on this random chart below.  But I'm not willing to compromise what brings me joy: delicious food from different places; in moderation.. and small slices of pizza.



Body positivity is important and body obsession makes me roll my eyes.  Folks that are body obsessed seem so one dimensional and empty.  They complain the most about their bodies when they're the most fit in the room and they don't seem to talk about anything interesting. Anyway... I'm being judgey.

I wonder why at times I feel so self conscious about a little belly fat. It seems that being trim, having abs means having a normal gay Asian body.  High metabolism and smooth dolphin bodies seems to be expected.   I keep seeing unsolicited large group photos of trim gay Asian men in my social feeds even though I've unfollowed many vanity profiles.

Do gays-with-abs ONLY hang out with other gays-with-abs?   Is it that ONLY gays-with-abs post large group photos on social media tagging each other multiple times at shirtless parties so that they keep popping up in my feed? Like women's magazines, I'm inundated with... hashtag impossible body goals.  But these aren't photoshopped celebrities.

These are standard gaysians separated by one degree.


If this is what being gaysian means, I'd feel extreme anxiety to keep up.

For a second, DadBod was talked about.  Attractive dads who were busy with family and raising kids.  Their belly fat became charming. But what about the men who can't easily become dads aka - gay men?  Without children to take care of in our 30s it actually seems lazy to not take care of your body because you have the time.  To add to that the gay community completely hijacked what being a daddy means any way.  I am neither definition.




After seeing a couple of pictures from the bonfire I got really self conscious, but just needed to be reminded that it's all in my head.  I was assuming what typical gaysian bodies looked like and started comparing myself to others.  But fuck that. I'm healthy, happy and I planned a kick ass bonfire called "Beached Whales." Come as  you are, we don't give a fuck and you shouldn't either.

Saturday, July 8, 2017

The Lost Knight

I love line dancing.  I love the cupid shuffle and the wobble.  And thanks to Dance DTLA, I learned Footloose, Mambo6 and Despacito.  After the event, I had all this energy that I needed to burn off.

A post shared by Christopho (@letopho) on

Jimmy asked me "if it's okay that he went to West Hollywood" after line dancing.  He asked me if "it's okay" because he knew that he would be leaving me on a Friday night with nothing to do and taking all our friends with him.  And he felt guilty because he knew that I would be lonely even though we had already spent together line dancing for two hours.   But again,  I need this independence and do things that I want to do and avoid places that I hate.

Ern agreed with me, "I don't understand the appeal, they go and they complain about it after."  Anyway, to each their own.  Any way.... DO SOMETHING OTHER THAN WEHO.  Anyway.

I found myself walking to Sunset Ave. where I walked into The Lost Knight.  I was pulled in by the live music by The Colour Coast.

I stood there ironically in a WeHo appropriate tank top drinking a Hendrix soda.  Something different. I observed ... hipsters, yes I think these are hipsters.. celebrate a birthday, chat in the patio and looking pretty fashionable in dark clothing with random holes.  I spotted some gays.  I also noticed that this camera was left on the table for 10 minutes until finally, its owner grabbed it.  I guess, I'm in a safe space.  I liked it here, but I'm sure my friend would ask to leave after 20 minutes because it's not gay enough.  Which is annoying because you can make a place gay by filling it with gay people.. any way.



A guy approached me and said, "hey."  I looked around seeing if he meant to talk to someone else, but then he put his hand out to shake mine.  "How's your night going?  What are you doing here?"  He looked 20 years old, white kid with a nice grin and obviously buzzed.

"Oh, I live nearby, I was lonely so I thought I'd just check this place out."
"aww," he was absorbing my honesty, but proceeded, "I play in a band here, but not tonight, come check us out on the 21st, we're performing next door!  We're called Sinner Lady.  We have an instagram if you want to follow it."

I added him.  There were four photos.  They looked like a high school garage band.  I was amused.  I chatted a little more than said good bye and tapped his chest for ... some weird reason.  I remember when I was like that, I would approach ANYONE and would chat about nothing.  I was sort of looking to do that tonight, make a new friend the old fashioned way: without a screen, but without seemingly like I was hitting on them. Not brave enough tonight.

Prior to wandering to The Lost Knight, I messaged everyone.  I went through my phone book. It was already midnight, people were settling in.  I texted a friend from work who's been the only person I could jive with.  "I wish I saw this message 10 minutes earlier, I was actually at Gold Room!" he responded.  I love Gold Room. This guy - super friendly, super interesting and not in engineering or sales.  This guy would actually be someone I'd hang out with outside of work. #missedOpportunity next time.  It made me happy that he existed, it made me sad that I was feeling alone despite how many people are in this city.  I think New York would crush me.

I pulled out my phone to text Jimmy, "hey, I'm pretty lonely right now.  Would you be okay with me going on Jackd / Grindr to find someone platonic to hang out with?  I understand if that makes you uncomfortable and won't do it."  I looked at the text and deleted it.  It was 1AM, what "platonic friend" am I going to find at this hour?  And all this text would do is make Jimmy feel even more guilty for leaving me and ruin his time, make him feel obligated to stay home in the future with his codependent boyfriend who hates WeHo.  I decided to let him live.

I wandered home at 1:30AM after my second drink and silently people watching.  I walked through Echo Park Lake and noticed young couples enjoying the warm night.  Two skinny gay latino guys were holding hands; something Jimmy and I would never do... any where.  Jimmy came home 20 minutes later and we drove to Taco Bell together.

He told me how he went to Cantina and Rage and I think I lost a few neurons hearing about it.  "Let's plan an event at Oil Can Harry's [where they have line dancing]" he suggested.  He put his arm around me.   And I kissed him on the cheek.  I don't give him enough credit for how much he understands me and eventually I'll learn to do other things on my own without the desperation.

Tuesday, July 4, 2017

Alone with Your Thoughts

I'm trying to understand why I'm unable to appreciate time alone; after-all it's supposed to be good for me. But instead of turning the time into productivity, like I promised myself in the last post, I end up psychoanalyzing myself. Or watching sad Jollibee commercials which is up there with those Thai ones.

I'm helping a friend out with his podcast.  He wanted to interview me about "values."  And during our preliminary conversation I fell into a rabbit hole of talking about my self realized quirks.  Things that you sort of keep to yourself because you don't want your friends to think you're completely insane or incomplete.  Made me realize that it's been a while since I've talked to my therapist.

My blogspot therapist. I need to unload because I find myself unable to move forward and be productive during my moments alone.

Food Poisoning
On Wednesday last week I got food poisoning from a salad I got from work.  I threw up in the streets trying to release a burp by forcing a cough.  There was a lot going on.  I rested in bed for two days. I found myself uncomfortable until finally I had a greasy slice of pizza and kombucha.  That seemed to have healed me.

A few weeks prior my parents told me to avoid food shipped from China and Vietnam because of how dangerous and dirty it can be.  I argued that American processed food is just as bad and stubbornly denounced their concern.  "That's NOT how I like to live.  Show me proof that it's dangerous from a credible news source and then I'll listen."  I work in advertising, "organic, free range, gluten free" are all hype words that don't mean anything.  Unless you farm your own food, you're fucked either way.  And as proof, I got sick from a salad from work that has one of the highest "American food regulations" that my dad trusts so much.

Values: No Waste
My friend is very intrigued by my "no waste" life policy.
"Chris, you are so 'no waste' that you finish the broth of a noodle soup."
"why is that so unusual?" I thought to myself
"Did you grow up poor? I'm just trying to understand the source?" He questioned.
"no, pretty middle class.. but my theory is that people who did grow up poor are more wasteful because as they find success, they relish in no longer needing to live like that to survive."
"Interesting." He seemed to not really agree.
"Though they're related, there's a difference in not wanting to waste and being cheap.  For instance, I want your leftovers NOT because I don't want to pay for my own meal. Rather, I want your leftovers because I don't want it to go to waste.  It's purely because everything especially food has a purpose and it's awful for things just to be thrown away if they can be eaten or used."

This is why I'm enjoying selling my things on OfferUp.  It's not because I can make money but rather I can give/sell to someone who truly needs/wants it.  No only did these objects serve their purpose, they have another opportunity to continue to make others happy.

I sound insane, but I reassure you that I'm not cooking meat from roadkill.

Anyway - there's a rush you get by finding good deals and also by using things that you already have. Recycle, Reduce, Reuse.  No waste.

How is 2017?
Like for many, 2016 was an awful year for me.  2017 is just coasting along.  It's a year of breaking a few traditions like not going to Bay to Breakers or going on a trip during Fourth of July weekend.  It's a year of realizing that I'm 31 and things are going to continue to be the same if I don't do anything about it.  It's a year of not being evicted and celebrating.  And we've got our house party themes lined up.

  • Phoenix: Rise from the Asses - Fire and Feathers
  • Crowning: A King and Queef Party - Royal theme
  • Gaytorade: What Team do YOU Play for?  - Back to school, sports tryouts theme
  • Boo, You Whore!  A Mean Girls Halloween with Sexy Rodents of Ghouls 

Was excited to do a bonfire in July but with a shit ton of maybes, I'm thinking of moving it to August.  That's really the only thing I want to "achieve" this year is a fun bonfire.

Family


Alysia asked me to come with her to San Jose.  She said that she would appreciate the company during the drive and I took that opportunity to see my family.  My dad planned a trip to Capitola for Father's Day and we had an amazing time.  It's a quaint, hidden gem beach town next to Santa Cruz with these colorful houses.  There was no wait for lunch with a view and parking was easy.  We walked around and sat on the beach.   It was a wonderful outing that we haven't done in a while because my brother works odd hours and is too exhausted.  But he's making more of an effort.

My dog stopped eating and will probably pass away soon.  That will be a sad day for the family since he's been with us for 17 years.  He's deaf and looks lost wandering the halls of our house. But I'm glad I got to pet him one last time.

My dad retired this passed Thursday.   More like he got laid off, but with a very sweet severance package.  With that, he's going to continue to oil paint. He's taken a few of my travel photos to paint from.  Here's one from Paris.  Not bad!  Next is Sapa, Vietnam.


Basic Queen
I sat there with the most basic queen at a pool party.  Initially turned off by the repetitive sounds coming from his jambox, and then again as he made insensitive cancer jokes about people we knew.  I watched as he changed out of his swimsuit and into street clothes exposing oddly placed muscles.  Body shaming him in my mind, it was as if he was working out specific parts, but nothing that tied the thing together.  He looked lumpy.  Nothing he talked about was interesting aside from our mutual friend in New York who is "so cool."  That I could agree with.  I was a bit shocked that he knew him since I've thought of him as a bit disconnected from... the scene sounds like an appropriate word here.  I glanced around the hotel room: kettle vodka and two forms of drugs I've never been introduced to until now.

Is this... gay?  Is this gay culture?

He was a nice person.  I politely engaged in what I could as they described their friends from a scale of "averagely toned" to muscularly beefy.

Value: Trust In People
I told my friend that I trust that people are innately good, which is why I talked to strangers when I travel, but probably less so now that I got pickpocketed in the Athens, Greece metro.  But I don't trust people to properly execute things.  Not that I'm the best planner, but I know what you need to consider to get from point A to point B in the most efficient manner.  I know that's how my mind works.  I also know that a lot of people don't think like that.  I ALSO know that it's often not my place to criticize, but it's so hard.  And when I'm proven wrong, I'm pleasantly surprised.

Again, I sound insane or at least neurotic.


Alright - that's all for now.  Thanks for listening, I can continue living a productive life as a seemingly well adjusted gaysian in Los Angeles again.  Talk soon.