Juice with Junior

I love this time of year.

Summer starts this month, you can (usually) leave your house in just a short sleeve shirt, or perhaps a tunic, and be comfortable. And this time of year gives me the excuse to wear my other favorite fashion accessory: a pair of sunglasses.

I F'ing love sunglasses.

Sunglasses, put 'em all on me dontcha wanna see these sunglasses on me... Sorry, for the love of Heidi Montag, I will never do that again. What was I talking about? Oh, I know. Sunglasses. I love them. I'm addicted to two things in life. If I was ever rich, my house would be filled to the brim with sunglasses and journal and pen sets, because one can never have too many sunglasses and journal and pen sets. A few summers ago, I literally bought 5 pairs of sunglasses and then promptly returned 5 pairs of sunglasses when I realized that I already owned 10 pairs of sunglasses I wasn't wearing at home. That's why for the past few years, I've decided to nix buying sunglasses only to lose them or break them, and instead be happy with the ones I have, the ones that fit my face.

That is until I went into Lens Crafters to get a new pair of real prescription glasses and saw a pair of Ray Bans (below, so pretty) that needed to be cradled in my bosom for all eternity.

And that's when I encountered my current dilemma: the sunglasses didn't fit my face.

So I put that pair down, although I really loved them and tried on another pair. None of them fit. Not a single pair of Ray Bans fit what I was slowly learning was a freakishly ginormous head that sat atop my shoulders. Each one was too tight, pinched at the ear, or the lenses (I seriously typed "eye holes" until I could remember the correct word) didn't align with my eyes.

What world had I been living in walking around thinking my head was normal sized when it is clearly large enough to have satellite moons orbiting its circumference?! So I decided to think back upon my glasses wearing years and figure out why none of these sunglasses fit.

I've always had a big head. That is well known. I've also always worn glasses, but what I came to understand was that the glasses I wore as a child must have been adult-sized glasses because child me had an already adult-sized head. Thus, when I grew up, and my head became the mammoth thing it is now, the sunglasses makers had nothing that could fit it. Okay, that's not exactly true. I have a pair of sunglasses now that I love. They're a pair of $12 no name aviators that I think I bought at a Hot Topic in the 90s, and despite my head also having a round chipmunk shape, which is also the shape of the aviators, they look nice on me.

So over the years, I ditched my other sunglasses in favor of this pair.

I may have coveted other sunglasses, which were curiously all aviator styled, but I kept the one pair of aviators I like. The problem is now the aviator style is so outdated. I want to look like John Slattery! I want to put on a pair of black, square Ray Ban sunglasses and walk down the street like I own it.

I will trip over something, I'm sure, but at least I'll own it for a little while. But no, I can't. Because of my big head. This is when I decided to turn my frown and see if they make sunglasses for big headed people like me. So I put in the same amount of effort as anyone doing research nowadays: I did a Google search.

"Sunglasses for people with big heads". Enter. Fatheadz Sunglasses. Well, um, that sounds accurate.

Let's take a look…


Ugh. These are worse than my aviators. And they're 4 times the price. The bridge on the nose is too wide. No, no, no, these will not work.

The next search result was for a website called Wide Sunglasses.com. Well that's certainly more respectful than Fatheadz. What do they got? I would like to now break from the story of this post to reprint, word for word, the first two paragraphs I saw from this website because they are both hilarious and heartbreakingly true:

"So you were born with a big head. You had no idea until one day you decided to buy sunglasses and then viola! you realized non [sic] of the readily avialable [sic] sunglasses will fit your big, gorgeous, homongous [sic] head. You are not alone. Infact [sic] there are thousands like you. According to google, over 5000 searches are made every month for people searching for the exact same thing you are searching for now. Before we get carried away, lets establish that you indeed have a gigantic head or face."

I do have a big head or face, snarky Wide Sunglasses.com person, I do! Anyway, the Wide Sunglasses place was simply selling what I believe are a one-size-fits-all pair of glasses that look like a cross between a virtual reality screen and those things you use to look directly at the sun with.

So not my style. That's when I decided to just go to the source, so I dialed up the Ray Ban web site, stared in desire for a bit, and typed in "big head" into the search engine…


Don't I know it.

So I guess this means my dream of looking like James Dean (left) minus the me being black and not a beautiful dead movie star, which are all minor details, will never happen. Or will it?

I have a whole blog network out there (this is slightly exaggerated) who may have big heads and may need sunglasses too! You heard what the Wide Sunglasses.com person said… "5000 searches"!

Someone out there has to have found a pair of nice looking glasses for big-headed people! So that's what I want to know!

Do you have a big head?!

And have you found a pair of Ray Bans or Ray Ban style sunglasses that fit your ginormous head? If so, where did you get them and how much did they cost and where can I get them? No pressure.

I'm convinced I'll find a pair that fit and the fad will be over. It's just my luck.

When I first saw this store, I walked by not really paying it any mind.

Then, I stopped. "99 Cents. Everything 99 Cents or More." Hmm... Wouldn't that just make it a "Regular Store"? Riiiiiiiiiight? *cocks head to one side*

It actually changed my whole life philosophy. Now everything is within my reach. A fancy house? It's just 99 cents or more! A brand new car? Please, it's just 99 cents or more! Methinks someone doesn't realize that the "Or More" is hindering sales.

This would be a store FAIL, except it's so meta, maybe it's a WIN?

Editor's Note: I really hope you guys read the Re-Post from last week because we are diving head first into the hot mess that is my "love" life again. Please put on your life preservers and hold your breath, cause I can't save you. Do I look like a lifeguard?

Let's begin.

Remember, back before I took my extended life-falling-down-around-me vacation from the blog, I told you about a guy I was flirting with who I couldn't figure out if he was gay or not named Charlie, because of his resemblance to a one Charlie Brown?

You do? Great. And do you also remember how, after I told you guys about him, the collective response was that it was useless for me to pursue a sexually-ambiguous man?

Just in case there was any gray area about this, Allan actually wrote in saying "My golden rule about men with ambiguous sexual orientation. I stay away from them." See, that was easy, Junior. You have clear cut documented proof that it is better to let this man go and cast your net back in the sea. Okay, so, um, yeah. I listened to your advice. I ruminated over it. I pondered it. I drank tea while sitting on window benches watching the rain softly fall while thinking about it.

Then, I sat up and made a decision. I decided to fall in love with Charlie.

It seemed like a good idea at the time! And, just so you don't think me frivolous, this was not a puppy love or a friendship love or a "you're the only hot guy I see everyday so I pick you" love. I was in love with him. He could do anything and I thought it was the cutest, most bestest thing in the whole wide world. He could talk about his bowel movements and I thought it was simply adorable!

He Could Talk About His Bowel Movements And I Thought It Was Adorable.

Yes, I fell in love, which was dumb, you told me so, but we're not at that point yet. Let's go back to the winter. Back then, I was employed someplace where I am no longer employed and Charlie was employed there too. We saw each other all the time. I'd asked for rides home every once in awhile and he always said yes. I didn't pry about his personal life. I wanted him to be gay, but I didn't ask. He didn't to me. I thought he was cute. I didn't press the issue only because I am sexually attracted to most people on the face of the earth. I'll just get over this Charlie thing, I thought.

That's when Charlie and I started to become friends. We were a part of a larger group of people who all worked together, so at first I hung out with Charlie in a group.

Then, we started getting lunch at work together (he usually paid until I felt guilty, then I paid until the feeling went away). Then, we'd see each other on the weekends. Then, we started seeing each other before work, during work, after work, and on the weekends, etc. There was a point when I saw Charlie more than anyone else I knew. For example, I may have seen any of my other friends, let's say, for 7 hours a week back then. In comparison, that same week, I was probably around Charlie for 60 hours. I was always with him. People at work were starting to think we were roommates. Then, after some time, people at work were starting to think we were a couple.

Let me explain. The reason I fell in love with Charlie was because, while everything in my life at the time was so difficult to handle, falling in love with Charlie was so easy. It was so natural. He's such a sweet-natured, lovable, considerate, warm-hearted guy that I urge anyone to try to not fall in love with him. I'm still a little in love with him, but it's over. Again, I'm getting to it. Anyway, I just slid into the love like I hit the crest of a water slide. It felt nice. He was so kind to me, attentive, always complimenting me, being affectionate, paying for things, going out of his way to tell me about something funny that happened to him to try and make me laugh.

Because of all this, I got wires in my brain crossed. Instead of processing Charlie's behavior as a guy who's really nice, my brain started processing his behavior as "he is your boyfriend."


This caused me to act flirty and giggly when he was around. I would wait anxiously for him to show up if he was picking me up (which he always did, imagine for a second a guy you like parked in front of your building waving you into his car, yeah, I fell in love. Sue me.) and I would be so open when I was with him. I have always thought of myself as pretty guarded until I get to know people, but I guess, I'm more transparent than I think.

During this time, we had a new guy start working with us. Nice guy. Nothing really to mention except that one day, he walked up to me and started talking about Charlie. Oh, here's the other thing: I would often talk about Charlie to other people. Like he was a college class and I was the best student, and it was my responsibility to share my class notes. We were talking and the new guy looked at me and asked "You and Charlie are just friends, right?"

"Yeah, what do you mean?"

"Oh," the new guy said bashfully. "Every since I started, I always thought you two were a couple."

WTF.

(Side note: the new guy wasn't asking me this because he himself was gay or into me or anything like that. He had a girlfriend who came in to the store a lot. He was asking because he's a nosy person.)

So people were assuming that Charlie and I were a couple. Before I could even figure out if Charlie wanted to be coupled with a dude, I had other people doing the pairing for me.

At least they weren't like "I always thought Charlie liked you, but was a couple with Frank." That would have hurt my feelings. If any guy was gonna be maybe gay with Charlie, it was gonna be me!

I was the one he'd wrap his arms around when he'd get too drunk at parties. I was the one who'd spend all day talking with him and driving with him in his car or talking about movies or music or... HE'S NOT YOUR BOYFRIEND, DUMBA$$!!! This realization would hit me at sudden moments when I would realize that Charlie wasn't kissing me (ever) or hugging me (when sober) or telling me he loved me (when sober or drunk), and he certainly wasn't sleeping with me (never ever ever). I was living in a fantasy world, but I was around him too much and I liked it too much to breakout.

That's why I never asked him point blank if he was gay. Saying "yes," would mean new possibilities that maybe in my current state, I wasn't ready to handle. Saying "no," would mean devastation and possibly admitting I was attracted to him, which is something I fiercely didn't want to do.

I was stuck. Except not. Remember last time I blogged, I told you about a girl who kept popping up in Charlie's orbit? Well, if this was a sitcom, she was becoming a recurring character, and I, as a lead, was not happy about it. Rumors were abounding that she was his girlfriend and in his eminent Charlie Brownieness, he was too shy to tell anybody about it. Shyness and sexual ambiguity were starting to get all jumbled up. One side of the coin means this is just a straight guy who doesn't like talking about his sex life (which is perfectly reasonable).

The other side means that this is Junior's boyfriend.

Which did you think I preferred?

Like the rest of the world, I am in deeply, madly, head over heels in love with Pippa Middleton (right). If you don't know who I'm talking about, you need to click here and stay there for the rest of your day because I can't deal with you right now.

Not knowing who the gorgeous, cosmopolitan sister of Kate Middleton, Queen of England and the World and Glamour is a crime as far as I'm concerned.

She's that amazeballs. I, also like the rest of the world, came to know Pippa, which I call her because I am in love, after the April 29th Royal Wedding of Prince William and Catherine of United Kingdom fame, when she both looked amazing in Alexander McQueen and looked amazing while managing not to get thrown up on by a bunch of little children (royal children with weak constitutions at that!)

Now, there was much to be distracted by at that wedding: Prince Harry's hotness. HATS! Prince Harry talking waaaay too much. TREES! James Middleton's speaking voice. THE QUEEN! Prince Bill's nervous laugh. Camilla looking comfortable for once. catherinemiddletonIguesswhatever.

But the real star of the wedding was Pippa. Now, she's an international celebrity and my new person of interest. Why? Because she's beautiful, related to royalty, doesn't have a job (or does she? the fact that it doesn't matter is fantastic!), and gets to bash around London from now until eternity doing whatever the F she wants with whomever she wants. Basically, this girl is living the life that I asked Jesus for when I was 12. He gave it to the wrong person! But instead of getting jeals, as would be my natural reaction, I can't help but love Pippa, which is why I've instituted "Pippa Watch" at the blog.

It is a highly sophisticated (me logging onto Yahoo) piece of equipment that will track Pippa's movements and report on anything noteworthy that she does that we all need to know.

Like "Pippa Woke Up Today!" or "Pippa Stubbed Her Toe! Send Flowers to Pippa!" You may wonder why I created this machinery for a person I've never met. The answer would be because I have this secret hope that Pippa sees this, falls in love with me, and I get to be her boyfriend/best friend, move to London Proper, and try on her clothes. Or basically become George Percy. Side note: click Percy's name and read that article. It is important that you know who all of Pippa's friends are.

It is also important that we decide who has the most British sounding name in that article. My vote goes to the genius of "Alice St. John Webster". Whomever created that is excellent.


Okay, today's Pippa Watch item is that appar Pips has broken up with her boyfriend Alex Loudon (above). As I am Pippa's new best friend, this event automatically means that Alex Loudon is now my boyfriend. It's like when the Vice President becomes President if something happens to the President. It's automatic. Oh, I forgot to mention that while I'm dating Pippa, I will also be dating men.

British men. A lot of them. Pippa understands because we're cool like that. I am also totally wearing one of her scarves when we go out tonight. Cause we're like this. *crosses fingers* Kisses.

Anyway, this event is super important because it A) means that any man standing next to Pippa automatically becomes a love interest (see Percy right, sunglasses will never look that good on me) and that B) the path is clear for her to marry Prince Harry, which will happen regardless of how much they each try to fight it.

Okay, it's Question Time: How much do you love Pippa? There is only one acceptable answer to this question. How much did you love The Royal Wedding? I seriously can't remember a time when more people were just filled with plain old happiness. I think the last time was when we had that National Party for Obama becoming president. I thought the national party was gonna become a weekly thing, and then everyone was all "What about the economy?"

Whatever. Lastly, how much do you want me to change my name to Junior Archer Westmoreland III when I move to London? Because I have the paperwork right here, I just need official approval...

Hey, remember how you were just asking me what's been going down in the Ukraine recently.

Well, the answer is this (and fabulous)...

This video is like the universe. To say that there is so much doesn't even begin to describe the vast, endless amounts of stuff that we have to talk about regarding it. Okay, let us try to make it past the tip (all puns intended), although I know we are all collectively kvelling right now.

If you already familiar with this video and this group, go ahead and appoint yourself Deputy Mayor of Fabulous Town, because I had no idea. The group's name is Kazaky, they are from the Ukraine as I said, they are what dreams are made of, they have released two or three singles so far with "LOVE" coming out at the beginning of the year, they are Oleg, Arthur, Kirill and Stas (don't ask me who's who), and I first became aware of them from Ali's Blog way back in February. Yes, February. I've been walking around with the knowledge of these long-legged bi-gender glamazons for almost half a year and I've been waiting to tell you! Don't you see how much I suffer for you?!

Anyway, question time, what do you love about Kazaky, what do you really love about Kazaky, and what do you love most about Kazaky? Put on your heels and tell us…

p.s. if they ever released a work-out video, I'd buy it. No joke.

I'm getting a little tired of sorrow and remorse. By now we all know that unfortunately-named, highly-married New York State Congressman Anthony Weiner (left) sent some mildly explicit photos to a lady he encountered on Facebook.

Before I get to the sorrow and remorse thing I said at top, I have a few things to say about the sentence I just typed. One, this is the second time this week I have mentioned a United States Congressman. I feel like a real, true Washington insider. Let me get down to Dupont Circle and muckrake with all the filibusters… Did any of that make sense? I feel like at least part of it did. Two, aside from how they were discovered, the images themselves were more tame than when Rep. Aaron Schock (R-IL) (third Congressman ref!) took his clothes off in my bedroom for Men's Health.

Seriously Japan is a literal puddle of radioactive waste. Let's focus, people. Third, and this brings me closer to that thing I can't stand: the point, this is the reason why I'm not on and don't like Facebook.

Now let's start over. I'm getting a little tired of sorrow and remorse. I'm just over it.

Weiner had a press conference this week where he admitted to doing the thing we all knew he did in the first place (that being sending the pics), and apologized for blatantly lying about it for a week. Sure apologize for the lying, but the rest of it… puhleeeaze! What he should have done is gotten up on the podium and said "I took a boring picture of my junk and sent it to a girl waaaay out of my league in the hopes of getting laid. Then, I lied because I didn't want anyone to find out."

Why do I think Weiner (yes, I'm laughing as I type his name because the joke never gets old) should have reacted this way? Because he was doing his job: representing his constituents.

People in New York, L.A., Chicago, Sheboygan, all over the U.S. and the world treat much more explicit and blatant photos of their junk like baseball cards. Look people have been taking pictures of their junk since the camera was invented (read the wiki for pornography) and now that it's so easy to take a picture of your junk and disseminate (eww) it to the world, pictures of junk are literally everywhere. Junk in underwear. Out of underwear. Naked. Not naked. Junk. Junk. Junk. The Internet is literally 99.8% pictures of people's junk. The other .2% is Groupon (this may not be accurate). I don't need Weiner to be all apologetic about the stupid photos. Just move on. What he did was not strange nor was it even that original. He's just another person in today's world with chronically high self esteem who took a bad picture of their junk and thought it was gonna be life changing. I'll break it down.

There are no pictures of my junk on the Internet. None. Search as much as you want, but my junk has and always will be separate from the World Wide Web. The reason for this is a simple one.

I have low self esteem. I'm a firm believer that no one wants to see a grainy, low-resolution image of my junk. No one wants to see a grainy, low-res picture of anyone's junk, but people keep sending them because a lot of people have this idea that their junk looks good.

They think that not only does their junk look good, but it looks good enough to make someone else want to have sex with them because of the goodness of said junk. (See also every profile on Manhunt, site NSFW or life).

I have diagnosed these people as having chronically high self esteem. It's a problem. They should all see their local doctors.

In the meantime, I have a message for them…

June is Gay Pride Month and as a celebration of gay prideness throughout the land, I am changing up The Sunday Swoon for the month of June... and for the rest of the year! Instead of picking just people at random who's pretty for the sake of pretty... I'm picking gay men at random who are pretty for the sake of pretty! The Sunday Swoon will now solely feature gay men who I think are adorbs and don't get enough attention for that fact. It's a way of oogling guys who are also raising the visibility of our community and showing people all the facets of gay life. It's such a beautiful thing!

Okay, today's guy is Rep. Jared Polis (above).

Polis is one of the few openly gay members of Congress. He's in the U.S. House of Representatives and is from Colorado. He is totes adorbs. I noticed him from across a crowded room a little while ago and knew that I had to pick him because he's the perfect example of someone who's changing the face of gay and also has the hotness. I can recognize this because I'm also changing the face of the...

Okay, moving on. I picked Polis because I also think he looks like your boyfriend. Not your boyfriend, but like the perfect boyfriend. Couldn't you just picture it?

You've had a hard day at work and you're all on your cell...

You: "I was just gonna order in tonight. I'm really tired."

Polis: "Oh, no. Did you want me to stop and get you food at that place that we went to that time?"

You: "No, Jared, you don't have to. You're busy being a United States Congressman. I'll just order in."

JP: "No, honey, I want to. You just go home, put your feet up, watch all those episodes of 'Parks & Recreation' you DVRed and I'll be home with food right after I finish my Congressman stuff."

You: "You're so sweet. What would I do without you?"

JPizzle: "No, what would I do without you."

You: "Love you."

J to the, P to the: "Love you too."

I think this post has proven one thing conclusively. I need a boyfriend.

Goodday.

p.s. if you have any great undercover gay hotties I should Sunday Swoon, let me know!

I'm not purposefully trying to make one of my first posts back wrap around such a heavy subject; it's just that I'm trying this thing where I plan stuff less and I just write what I feel at the moment I feel it.

We'll see how it goes.

Anyway, today I was over at Lazy Circles, which you probably already are every single day because it's that good, and I saw this post about how the White House themselves have posted (third-hand info... gotta love my journalism skillz!) a special landing page for its lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender issues page in commemoration of Gay Pride Month. All of this is fantastic and I am in complete concurrence with it all. The page also features a moving "It Gets Better" video featuring many WH staffers talking about their experiences with being gay, coming out, etc. This is fine, I guess. No, it is.

I guess. Sure it is. Maybe? Did I just say "maybe"? I don't think I'm allowed to say that. Um, well, okay. I guess I have to come out about something right now, don't I? Alright, here it goes... I have always been bothered by the "It Gets Better" movement. There I said it. If you're going to stone me, could you do it after the 4th of July because there's a party I want to go to and then you can kill me after?

I shall now proceed to backtrack. I'm good at this, don't worry.

I'm well aware of what the "It Gets Better" project is. Dan Savage started it last year after the (continuing) rash of suicides by youth who identify as LGBT as a way of informing not only them but also the world that gay people lead all kinds of different extraordinary lives post-bullying and that bullying by itself is wrong anyway and one shouldn't base the decision to live on the moment and moments after it occurs. I get it. I love all that. I love the fact that people have so widely, so quickly embraced the concept as a way of connecting with young people who struggle with both their sexuality and other people's often negative reaction to it. I even like Savage. I read his advice column in "The Village Voice," and while he can be brusque and arrogant a lot of times, I often agree with him, and who the F cares if I think he's arrogant. I would prolly too if I was a successful person (which is something that I'm A) working on and will B) never happen). It's just the "It Gets Better" thing has always rubbed me as an interesting message to promote, especially to young people. I'll explain.

I've watched a few "It Gets Better" videos (like the one below with Glee's Chris Colfer, who is my personal hero and future leader of the whole planet) and the thing that bothers me about them is two-fold: first, it's this idea that the where you are can't improve, that you have to go somewhere, travel far and wide, escape somehow and find this mystical land where gay people run free and chocolate pours through the streams (this is a variation on the speech Ennis Del Mar gives Jack Twist in "Brokeback Mountain." Ignore that please.) That if you, gay-identified young person being bullied, hold on one more day, things will go your way. You will find this Oz, this Narnia, and you'll look back and see how foolish you were for not believing that you could be happy in the future.

The second prong of my discomfort with this whole big national thing that everyone loves is...

Um, what if it doesn't get better?

It's a simple question. What if you gay-identified young person being bullied... By the way, I try to always say "gay-identified young person" because there is nothing more that I hate than when people call kids "gay." Kids are not gay. Kids are not straight. They are kids. Their sexuality is developing in much the same way you wouldn't call a tadpole, a frog, I think. It's not a frog yet because it isn't old enough. Kids aren't old enough to have labels. It limits their discovery of who they are and forces them into boxes that may not be right for them as they get older, but all this is another post.

Getting back to my original point... The crux of these videos, the whole movement, is that there will be a time when you grow up that it gets better.

I'm suggesting the alternate strand: what if it doesn't? People of the world, I have provided pitchforks to the left and torches to the right. I just ask that you give me a heads-start to run before you start chasing...

Let's as quickly as we can, break down both parts and do a sum-up, shall we? Firstly, there is a part of me that really doesn't like the whole "you can get away find a better day" mentality of some, if not most, could be all of these videos. It becomes a kind of ghettoization of gay identity: an association that it can only exist where other gay people exist, in cities usually but really wherever you are not where you are, and that once you leave you will be happy. This simply isn't true. Yes, of course, there are many LGBT people from less inclusive, accepting places who left and lead happy, fulfilling lives, but there are some who don't go anywhere and lead miserable lives or happy ones.

It can depend on the person, but I think moreso, it depends on the strength of will. The determination to show people to teach people to tell people and, hopefully, to change people so that you as a gay person can stay put and be happy and if you want to go someplace else you can and if you don't, you don't have to. Strength of will, what does that mean? I think, and this is my opinion, that it means the ability to push back within the lines so that eventually those lines move. I think it means teaching young people how to value themselves as individuals so no matter what happens to them from being called "faggot" to the most vicious beating that lands them in the hospital they know they have value. I feel like "It Gets Better" is so passive.

It could be lacking that vim and vigor necessary for adequate push back. I don't want to say that it is because obvs the movement is a movement and I haven't watched every video but I'm talking about feelings now... There's no reason that it can't be better right now. How exactly we can go about doing that is something I would need to think more about, but I know it's not really happening.


I was gonna get into the story about how I, growing up as a gay black kid in schools with no other gay black kids, I laid down the law with my peers that I was to be treated... yada yada yada. I'm running out of time and space and nobody cares. My first point leads into my second point which is "It Gets Better" is a lovely idea, but it may not be true for all. I will use a personal example here.

I was teased when I was growing up, sure. It was bad for maybe 2 years out of a total of 12 years of education around other young people. It really wasn't that bad. Entering the "real world" is when I've experienced most of my bullying. From people around you not wanting to be around you because of your sexuality to taunts to family members even questioning you, these are all forms of bullying that adults do to adults. While these are often not as overtly serious as what happens to kids in schools, I think it's dismissive to teach kids that "Hey, this S is happening now but when you get older, it just all goes away." Not true. I am always aware of my surroundings and who I'm with because at any time someone may want to hurt me because of who I am (not to mention the color of my skin).

That's why I have a problem with "It Gets Better"... It teaches few lessons in how to recognize, confront, and neutralize bullying so that you'll have these skills to take with you your whole life. The funny thing is I believe that every person who's made one of these videos could easily make another one discussing the skills they learned for how to tackle bullying head on.

Unfortunately, that's not the point. Maybe I could create a little addendum, if you will...

We could call it "It Gets Better (Right Now If We Work Together and Although This BS Will Be With You Your Whole Life, Here are Some Tips About How to Deal With It)".

I don't think it's as catchy, but let's try it... What do you think? Are you a fan of "It Gets Better"? Have you made a video that you would like to share? Have I completely missed the boat? Discuss...

You don't have to tell me twice. I know. There are a whole bunch of you out there serving me total stank face. You know what? Maybe I deserve it. Alright, let's not all rush at once; I said "maybe." I know. I left the blog. You guys were my guys and I left you. For that I am sorry. I wish I could have taken you with me on my strange, erotic (this is not true) journey from then to now, but I couldn't. I just couldn't. There was too much stuff happening outside and inside, and none of it was fit for your consumption. Hell, it wasn't even fit for mine and I was the one wading through it everyday with galoshes on up to my knees still getting wet from the junk I dealt with. Can we all just breathe in and out for a second and get over any resentment or bitterness we may feel because I left. Breathe in. And out. In. And out. Doesn't that feel better?

Doesn't the blog look nice by the way? I did a redesign because I was tired of not having a sidebar anymore. You have no idea how much you'll miss a sidebar until you don't have one anymore, so the first chance I got, I picked a new template with a sidebar. Will you stop looking at me like that? I know you didn't come here to here about redesigns and sidebars. Although, I will add, that this redesign took F-O-R-E-V-E-R. I literally tried about 20 different templates, configuring each one, until I found one I actually like. See, I consider this here blog as an extension of myself. When I write to you guys here, it's like you're inside me. Wait. I'm rephrasing. It's like you're inside my mind, and the old blog look just kept reminding me of the past. So I wanted a fresh start that made me think about the future. But the past. Oh, how it looms. See it there. All loomy.

Well, so okay. Why did I suddenly stop blogging for the umpteenth time and why do I expect you guys to just pick up right where we left off? To answer the last part first, I don't expect you guys to pick up where we left off. I left you, and your lives moved on so I am deeply, profoundly in agreement with you if there is no room left in your hearts or minds for Juice with Junior. There are no hard feelings. I lost those with the 10 pounds I lost while I was away. Yeah. I totally lost 10 pounds. Jeals? I know. We'll chat afterward, this is serious business. *Clears throat* I don't expect you to jump back into the crazy. I can't even say I would if I were you. Would I like you to jump back in? Of course I would. Who has a pool party and sets out all these wines and cheeses if they don't want people to show up. But I understand if you don't. I may cry. I will definitely eat all the cheese.

But I will understand.

Now to answer the first part last, well folks, let me put it this way. Junior has grown, child. I was always a complainer. I have been my whole life. It's what makes my stories sing in that particular "I can't believe this happened to me" kind of way. But, as I had long suspected but never really understood until now, is that whenever you complain too much, God crooks her eyebrow up and says "I'll give you something to complain about" and such is what happened to me. The period of my life with me not blogging was the single biggest upheaval that I have ever experienced in my entire life. The sh!t was real. Some of it was bad. Some of it was good. Some of it was great. But all of it was real. My patience, my resolve, my energy, my commitment to myself, my fear of the unknown, my fear of other people, my belief in those I held dear, my willingness to try new things without question, my comfortability in my own skin was all tested like a mutha while I was away, and what's the verdict?

I survived. I maybe even thrived. No I thrived, I'm calling it, and I'm happier now than I have been in, um, 6 years, which is a long time. I love my life now. I think it's headed in a really positive direction and I'm ready to share that with you guys again. I think I'm calmer. I'm less afraid. I definitely think I'm funnier. That's why I decided to start blogging again because I couldn't waste the funny. I'm sorry, what? No, just repeat yourself. Oh, you want me to tell you exactly what happened while I was away? Well, I'm obvs keeping a lot of it close to my vest because I was my life and it all shaped me (and I will be using it as fodder on the blog natch) but I'll give you a tasty taste as my mom says:

I... Was unemployed, was depressed, gained a friend, my sister went crazy, gained another friend, got fat, got really depressed, hated my apartment, lost a friend, my mother went crazy, gained another friend, went on a job interview to work with a porn star, lost another friend, lost fat, my father lost his job, gained an appreciation for money, my 29-year-old cousin had a heart attack, moved out of my apartment, one of my (straight) friends told me he loved me, burst into tears, paid off three of my credit cards (again), my sister went crazy (again), got a job (huzzah!), lost another friend, another one of my (straight) friends told me he loved me, had an acute depressive episode, ate a Zebra Cake, wept over not having a boyfriend, my father got a job (huzzah 2x!), and I watched "The Good Wife" every single week because that is just a really good show and Julianna Margulies totally deserves the Emmy this year. Whew! It's tiring just typing it. Imagine living it.

But I'm back. I'm wonderful. I hope you are too. Look at me, Mr. Self Centered, how are you doing? You look great. Anyway, so as I said, I'm blogging again and I made some changes. The blog is gonna be a little different because although so much as changed, so much is still changing, and I have no time. I literally have to run to a place where I'll have no Internet for the rest of the night. I have no time. So I will post when I can (I PROMISE) and generally be involved more than I was before. I made one other significant change. I deleted about 600+ posts from the blog. I know you can't really "delete" stuff off the Interwebs, but you know what I mean. It's not here on Blogger anymore. Why? The short answer is I was tired of looking at the posts. The long answer is that the posts just didn't represent the person I am now. The me who cares but doesn't. Who's obsessed but not obsessive. Who's funny haha, not the other one. I just couldn't stand looking at them anymore, plus, a lot of those posts were bad. Really bad. Don't worry. If it's a post you remember fondly, it's prolly still here. I could talk about the ephemeral nature of blogging but I don't have the time... I love you. I missed you. I'm back! Whooo!

This is my "soft" opening. I'll have a grand opening next week. But not too grand of course.

Kisses,

Junior