Lady Gaga.

SNL is back.  The cast is meshing.  For a few years, it was just ok.  They've finally clicked.  A presidential election year helps.  Lady Gaga preformed this week. She was perfection.

I've listened to the new album on repeat since it came out.  She's calmed down.  Maybe matured? This album is less obnoxious.  She's no longer trying to scream.  This album is art -from start to finish.  I'm obsessed.  Her voice is the star... her talent is what comes through. Her ability to tell a story, in lyrics.  It's all so personal on this album.  

I forgot this album had been released.  I found it on Spotify, and I was caught off guard.  I haven't read any reviews. I feel like they'll bash it.  It isn't the dance album you expect from her.  It's her.  Just her.  It reminded me of when Pink released 'Funhouse' in 2008.  

Watch her performance from SNL.  It's worth it.  It isn't the flashy Gaga people expect, but it's the real  her.  And if you haven't already... give the album a try.  

 

I’m Annoying… I’m Well Aware…

I make an obscene amount of eye contact with random people on a daily basis. I’m a weirdo.  Awkward eye contact, and I smile, as if I know them.  We are connected, except we aren’t.  I want to feel connected though.  I don’t know why.

When I was kid I would get really annoyed with my father.  We would be out to dinner, and he would strike up a long conversation with the server.  We would be on vacation and he would start talking to the staff or random people we would meet as if he knew them.  “Dad, why are you asking a million questions to someone you don’t know?”  He still does this to this day, and often, afterwards my mom will ask him why he insists on talking to everyone.  I am my father in this way. 

I understand this quality about him now, as an adult, as I am the same way.  I want to know your story.  Who you are in the world?  I want to feel connected.  I’m sure it annoys the people around me.  I was riding in an Uber this past weekend… I started chatting with the Uber driver.  Where are you from?  How long have you been here?  Why did you move here?  It’s a really great city you’re going to love it.  I looked over at my friend, as he rolled his eyes.  I knew why.  I was the eye roller as a kid… “Dad, don’t just start talking to random people.”

I’m attention needy.  I don’t like to be alone.  I don’t like to feel alone. I think that’s part of it, but also, I just genuinely like people.  Everyone has a story to tell. What’s yours? What can I learn from you?  That’s part of the reason I am starting a podcast.  I’ll share my story, willingly, but for me, it’s about hearing other people’s stories.  I want to learn from others, and their experiences.  What fuels who you are in the world….

As I sat at ORD waiting to board a flight...  I looked over at this couple with their baby.  How old is she?  She’s so cute.  She’s so big for eight months old, and also so smiley.  This couple, with their eight month old, traveling back to NYC.  They live in Brooklyn.  I got on the plane, and I sat next to this little girl.  Her mom and sister on the other side of me –they looked East Coast wealthy .   I’m good with kids –they like me.  The mom said how they were visiting family in Chicago.  Their uncle lives here.  They live in Connecticut.  We talked about the zoo, and school, and about what sports she plays, and her favorite subjects in school… Reading.  “Mine too,” I said!

I’m annoying.  I don’t care.  Here’s how I feel about it… If we are here, in the same place, at the same time… it matters.  There’s a reason.  I will always reach out.  I’m currently on my flight back to Chicago.  I’m sitting next to this guy… his headphones in…I would try to connect otherwise…. Alright, to be honest… it’s mostly cause he’s really cute.  I give no fucks if he reads this as I type… 

Do What Feels Right...

I cancelled on a wedding this past weekend.  I was a plus one.  I couldn’t do it.  I was in a weird place.  I couldn’t be around people.  I felt bad, as I sent the text, ‘I’m sorry.  I just cant do it.’  I’ve been sick.  Some weird coughing thing the doctor said was nothing, and would pass.  I shouldn’t be smoking –I’m sure that doesn’t help.  I had a little bit of a meltdown about something else, and so between those two factors I just couldn’t do it.

I do improv around the city.  I get on a stage searching for a laugh and validation. And even outside of that I’m so fucking annoying.  It’s like I’m constantly screaming, ‘pay attention to me, please.’  It’s obnoxious.  I don’t know how to shut off.  I don’t know how to sit and listen. 

Growing up I was never the popular kid.  In fact, I was kind of a loser who had no friends.  I had a few friends, but I was never the popular kid.  I kind of knew people that ran in various circles –the jocks, the nerds, the weird ones, etc.  I never had really close friends though.  I was shy and reserved.

I grew out of that in my 20’s.  I became someone different after college.  I know why, but I’ll save that story for another time. I have a great social circle now.  This past weekend, as I hung out with friends, I chatted about the struggle of working at home.  I miss being around people.  What about the other people that work remotely she asked.  We talk occasionally I guess.  ‘Henry, you’re an organizer.  You bring people together.  It’s what you do.  Just build a community.  Even if it’s virtually.’  She is right.  I bring people together.  I’m good at it.

In turn, I’m constantly trying to be funny, or entertaining. I get along with everyone.  I’m easy to talk to.  I’m genuine.  I’ll talk to your 80 year old grandmother and be polite and kind, and then I will entertain you’re 10 year old cousin, and I’ll dance with your mom.  I’ll sit at a dinner table of people I’ve never met, or hardly know, and we will all be best friends by the end of that dinner.  I bring people together. 

I don’t know how to turn that off.  That part of my personality is like autopilot.  I want us all to be friends.  This weekend though, I couldn’t do it.  I don’t like letting people down.  I usually stretch myself thin trying to accommodate people.  I’ll make too many plans.  My friends wonder how I do it… so do I.  As I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized sometimes you have do what’s best for you.  I did that this weekend.  I couldn’t be on.  I needed to be off.  I needed to be around people that I could just be me around.  Often times when I’m conflicted about something I’ll call my friend Amy, ‘’I don’t know what to do? What do you think I should do?  I just need advice.’  Her advice is consistent…. ‘Babe, do what feels right… ya gotta do what’s best for you.’  I’m getting better at taking that advice.  This weekend was best for me.  I hate letting people down, but that’s life… sometimes you let people down. 

 

 

Da Cubs...

On a flight from Chicago to New York.  After a long night of drinking too much.  The Cubs won.  For the first time since 1945 they are going to the World Series.  I wasn’t a crazy sports fan growing up.  I didn’t go to the Friday night football games in high school.  I was the awkward gay kid that was always picked last in gym class.  I was so happy last night though.  I was happy for Chicago.

I grew up here.  I spent one year living in an apt that didn’t have a Chicago zip code.  And I hated it.  I love Chicago.  My dad was a city employee.  We had to live in Chicago.  I grew up on the south side.  I went to Catholic schools.  Mostly white Irish kids.  I had a very stereotypical Chicago childhood.    

I went to college at DePaul.  In the heart of Chicago. In my 20’s I toyed with the idea of moving to NYC.  The diversity, the theater, the way the city feels so alive always.  I wanted to be a part of that.  I couldn’t pull the trigger.  I was ingrained in this city.  My family, my friends… my life was all here.  My friends in New York didn’t seem happier then I was in Chicago. 

Five years ago I moved to Wrigleyville.  Wrigleyville is manic.  It’s young and loud and busy.  It’s the neighborhood most people would move to right after college.  I basically live in a frat house.  I moved into my apartment when I was 28.  A few years too late.  I didn’t care. Last night, at the bar I live above, as the Cubs scored two outs off a hit, and clinched their spot in the World Series I was reminded all over again why I love this city.

I’m not a sports fan.  I don’t watch consistently, but I get how people do.  I get why they care.  In the ninth inning last night Chicago was united.  We were one.  This city has done so much for me.  It has given me more then I have ever given it.  I love walking around at night.  I wander.  In the stillness and darkness of the city, as it slowly shuts down, and it calms me.  Chicago isn’t the safest city statistically speaking, but I have always felt safe. 

Chicago is my safety blanket.  I hate leaving.  Even for a few days.  The best part, for me, of traveling, is seeing that skyline when I land.  I’m not a nomad.  I’m a stayer.  I like consistency.  Chicago is my consistency. 

I saw grown men cry last night, at the end of that baseball game. They’ve waited so long.  This franchise means something to so many.  It means something to me.  People in Chicago are kind.  And though the neighborhoods are somewhat segregated it’s diverse.  Last night was proof of that.  As this city came together in the streets.  We are all the same in this city.  The next week will be interesting, as Chicago prepares for a possible World Series win.  I’ll be in the heart of it all.  The Chicago flag has hung in my apartment since I moved in five plus years ago, and has been tattooed on me for even longer.  This week matters, for sports fans, but also those of us that love this city.  We’re in it together this week, Chicago…. With love, Henry 

This is the Last Time... Promise...

This is the last time I’ll talk about this.  I promise. 

Last night I was out, watching the Cubs game.  Snapchat refreshed.  Who is he with? I guess he’s moved on.  I took it personally.  You’re throwing it in my face.  It was too much for me to handle.  I drew the line.  I blocked on all social media channels.   I don’t want to know.  This is about to get really fucking candid… but here we go…. Bare with me.

I’m 32.  I spent my 20’s being dumb, and dating everyone, and being super indecisive about what I wanted out of life.  That’s ok to do in your 20s.  By 30 I knew what I wanted.  I was no longer that confused kid trying to figure it out.  I can tell you exactly who is right for me.  I thought he was right for me.  He was kind, and sweet, and he was genuine.  He had a good relationship with his family, and a good group of friends.  Those are things I need in a partner. We spent a lot of time together.  Hey, meet my mom… hey, meet my closest friends… I’ll let you into my world in a way I haven’t with anyone else.  I fell for him in a way I didn’t expect to.  It consumed me.  And I was ok with it.  

And then it was done.   And I look back at the photos on my phone.  It was ok in July. What happened in three months?  How did we let that go?  Could I have fought for it?  Could we have fought for it?  There wasn’t enough closure for me. 

This is my closure.  I wanted it to work.  I’m sorry it didn’t. I'm sorry for the role I played in that. Here’s my truth though… I’m human.  I’m flawed.  I’m sometimes broken.  I’m not perfect.  I’m the brown kid that grew up in Chicago.  A little rough around the edges.   I’m also the kid that worked really hard to get to where I am.  I’m funny, and I’m driven.  I’m the guy that will work really fucking hard to make you happy.  The person that will get along with your parents… assure them you’re in good hands.   I’m the guy that will make sure you don’t stress out about the little things…. I’ll fix those things.  I will remember not to put onions in the tacos, and to save you a piece of the red pepper.  And I will always make sure you’re ok.  Even if it’s at my own expense. I’m that guy.  That is who I am.

I wish things would have gone differently.  I was left broken.  I don’t let people close enough to break me.  I did this time though. 

My friends got married in June.  I was the MC.  They picked John Legends, ‘All of me,’ as their wedding song.  I made the intro.  Please welcome to the floor for their first dance… and I hit play.  I looked up, from across the floor, and he stood next to my mom, and we made eye contact.  I smiled, and he smiled back, and in that one single moment I felt different. I wanted to always feel that way.   I’m 32.  I know what I want.   I wanted that.  To always feel different.  

This is probably too much to post.  It’s honest, and raw.  But it’s real life.   I needed to tell this story.  For my own sake.  It's so easy to be mad, or angry, but let's be honest... in life, the best thing to be is grateful.  I'm sad right now... but I'll be ok.  With gratitude.... -Henry.

Popping Melly in the Clurbbbbb

I popped a Melly last night.  Doesn’t that sound like some exotic club drug all the kids are taking?  It’s really just my nickname for Melatonin.  It's a natural sleeping aide, but it sounds way more exciting if I just say I popped a few Melly’s last night.  I’ve actually never been a drug person.  In fact, two years ago, I was at Lollapalooza and I vowed never to go back after seeing so many kids being carried out on stretchers.  It depressed the fuck out of me.   Anyway, I don’t even really take over the counter drugs unless it’s really necessary.  I just feel like there’s better ways to heal. 

I popped the Melatonin, watched SNL, and settled into bed ready to get a goodnights sleep.  No dice.  I couldn’t sleep.  I tossed and turned all night.  I crawled into bed at midnight, and at 3am I was still not able to fall asleep.  The Melatonin usually works.  It didn’t.  Sometimes I struggle to shut off my brain.  As much as I want to, I’m just not able to.

I’ve never been a good sleeper.  When I was kid I would make my mom stay up until I fell asleep.  I was scared of everything.  I didn’t like sleeping even as a kid.  My mom would stay up watching the news or some sitcom on TV, or doing things around the house until I finally passed out.  Even as a child though, my brain would keep running.  I remember being a kid, and for some reason, all the anxiety would hit me at night.  It’s not much different as an adult.

My days are busy, between work and my social life and just trying to keep my life organized and running.  I’m not good with silence –I constantly want people around me to distract me from thinking.  Last night though, I couldn’t kick the anxiety, about how this new job is overwhelming me.  About how I feel like I’m not good enough at this, and a lot of other things.  About how busy I am the next few weeks.  About my personal life and why it didn’t work out the way I thought it would.  Social media distracts me, as I’m checking in at 2am.  No one is up at 2am you idiot…

There’s too much distraction for my generation.  There’s too much going on, and if you don’t want to ever shut down you don’t have to.  I often times chose never to shut down.  It exhausts me.  I go on minimal sleep quite often.   That’s not healthy.  Sleep is essential.  I know that, but not even the drugs work. 

I finally fell asleep around 3:30am.  I was up by 7:30am.  I cannot sleep in -there's too much to do.  I went to the gym, and I got an Americano on the way home, and here I am at 5:30pm hoping tonight is different.  Maybe at the end of the day, I’m still just still that kid, laying in bed, scarred of everything around him… except this time, there's no one waiting up for me to fall asleep. You're on your own kiddo... 

I'm Old... but, Not Like, Super Old

I went on a date last night.  I shouldn't be going on any dates.  I'm not ready.  I did though.  With a 22 year old.  I'm 32.  I'm too old for that.  Right? He was really kind, and not a bad conversationalist, but like he just graduated from college in June.  We live in different worlds.   As to be expected, when I have ten years over you.  He was shocked I had been in my apartment for over five years.  That’s a thing for adults.

There has to be a window -25 to 35 seems fair for me right now.  We sat at dinner and talked about his life post college, about working as a barista in the morning, and stylist at a retail store.  An art major from the same college I went to, so many years ago.  At one point I asked, ‘Where did you live on Campus?'  He told me which building, 'Oh me too!' I replied.  'It was there when you went to school there.'  He quickly apologized and I laughed.  ‘Are you calling me old?’  I told him not to worry about it.  It was a fair reply, I was, in fact, only the second person to ever occupy my dorm room 14 years ago when I was a freshman.  

He talked about being sacred, as an art major.  "What do I do?'  I don't have an answer, but, I'm envious that you pursued your art.  I never had the guts.  Not till 31.  I'm not saying it's too late, there's always time, but it's more difficult the older you get.  Besides, even at my age, I often feel lost, and like I don't know what I'm doing.  You figure it out.  Somehow.  I sat across from him, and thought, I could be your mentor.  Help you navigate the world –like an alumni big brother program.  That should really exist. 

Anyway, he was really nice, and seemed genuine.  He text me right after, ‘I had so much fun –I hope I could see you again.’  Nice gay boys are hard to find.  But like, I’m I was 10 when you were born.  I remember 1994.  Like, vividly remember 1994.  Mostly Michael Jordan’s failed attempt at a career in baseball.  Also, watching episodes of Roseanne when they premiered live on television. 

I’m in a weird place, coming off the heals of something that didn’t work out with someone else, so I probably just need to take a step back anyway.  I give too much away to soon.  I jump in too quickly.  I’m too kind to a fault.  That’s not always a bad thing, but also not really healthy.  Point is, I need to evaluate cautiously what I feel has potential. Also, I'm still not over the last guy I was seeing, which isn't really fair to this guy even if I thought it was worth pursuing.   I don’t like to waste others time, or my own.  As I sit trying to write this, while also toggling between work stuff, and discussing the improv show I’m trying to plan.  I take on too much.  Is it worth it?  Sometimes, yes, but sometimes it’s not. 

I text my friend this morning, she asked, ‘will there be a second date?’  I feel like that’s the polite thing to do.  See it through, but knowing that I might always feel unsure about the age difference always. Maturity matters.  That only comes with time, I think.  Also, I’d like to be a stay at home dad, so like, how do I do that? My dating profiles should just read, ‘Currently seeking someone who wants to have kids, let me raise them, but like, I’ll keep the house in order too, and I’m great at a cocktail party when you need someone to entertain your executive friends/coworkers.’  

 

 

Hello... It's Me....

I don't know what this will be.  However, I talked about starting a blog.  Years ago.  I have a bunch of short stories that I've written over the last few years.  Maybe this will be a place for them.  At some point, it'll be for a podcast.  Just me, and my friends chatting.  And a gallery... pics of my dog, mostly.  Billie.  

Last night, at a bar, I was talking with my friend about his current relationship... 'STOP!' I said. 'We can't talk about this right now.  Save it.  It's a good conversation.  And I have some thoughts, but I don't want to this right now.  Save it for my podcast.'  I randomly fall into these conversations that I'm sure are universal.. about insecurity, and relationships, and trying to navigate life. I don't know about you, but I ask myself daily, 'what the fuck am i doing?'  So that's what this blog will be about... trying to figure out what the fuck I'm doing. 

Anyway, it's Saturday afternoon.  And I, for some reason, agreed to host a dinner tonight for a friends birthday.  So, I should probably clean my apartment.  And like organize my life.  And pretend like I'm an adult.  I also just realized the chicken isn't defrosted.  Not off to a great start, eh?