The official move was on the Sunday before Thanksgiving. And since moving in together, I had to “trick” the boyfriend into tossing several of his possessions away. Before you crucify me, I will list a few items for your judging pleasure.
1. An old napkin from his 3rd job.
2. A shriveled up Magazine with Thalia on the cover.
3. A shirt that no longer fit him that also had 6 holes in it.
4. A package of oatmeal. Really?
5. A belt that never should have been designed. (I should’ve taken a twitpic of it)
But now, I come home to find more items being tossed out as he frantically goes about his new-found pass-time, “This has a spot on it” or “This towel no longer provides that fluffy comfortable feeling”.
I also participated in the ritualistic “parting” of several items so it was all fair and dandy for this Mexican too. And while strolling to the train this morning–of all the garbage bags sitting in a heap on our corner–someone managed to rip open our stuff and spread it about like is was garage sale season in Oklahoma. I wasn’t sure if I should have been flattered or horrified?
And all the while, as “the move” occurred, I couldn’t help but wonder, “Does the concept of compromise increases when you take that leap and move in together or should it have been present–and in equal proportions–all along?” Did you have to throw anything out in the name of compromise? Leave a comment.
With my work, and his photography, it’s been a while since we’ve been together, just the two of us. I often wonder, How do you go on a date with your boyfriend when real life gets in the way?
Well, I wouldn’t be a sex/dating/relationship blogger worth my laptop if I couldn’t get to the bottom of things–so It was time to get intimate with my man. I set it up. It was going to only be me, him and our animalistic desires…even if it killed me!
Cris: I have arm fat.
Nando: Jesus, I can’t handle this now Cris, I’m getting ready for my date.
Cris: Did you not hear me? I said I have arm fat! I’m not calling to go over football scores.
Nando: What category problem is this? Food, shopping or hair?
Cris: All of the above!
Cris and I have been BFFs for over 26 years. Anyone who knows me, knows Cris–or at least has heard of her. We met in Texas in the 4th grade since that fateful day in 1984, life just hasn’t been the same. And in our daily calls, she’s in Iowa and I’m in Brooklyn, we decipher our problems through a system we’ve created and developed–we separate our problems into the 3 categories that they cause us to explore; food, shopping or hair.
1. Food. If the problem we’re facing is dangerous and we’re fearful of something; a job interview, our partners are mad and aren’t talking to us–we usually turn to food.
2. Shopping. If we’re upset and the world doesn’t understand us like our coworkers, our partners or family, we usually attack Bloomingdale’s or if we’re upset but on a budget, H&M.
3. Hair. If things are just too out of control, we’ll usually attack our hair. She once gave herself bangs when she and her mother argued over where to put the raincoats. I can’t judge, I will give myself a “trim” when I don’t get enough blog hits.
It’s pretty routine for us to have one of the above listed problems a few times a month, but a category 4 problem was rare.
Nando: When did you discover it?
Cris: Today, Today! What do I do?
Nando: Is it fat or muscle?
Cris: I don’t know–I’m too scared to look. How can I tell?
Nando: Raise your arm. Wave like you just won a beauty pageant. If it jiggles, it’s fat. If it doesn’t…it’s muscle.
Cris: I’m waving.
Nando: Is it juggling?
Cris: I’m not telling!
Nando: It’s jiggling.
After Cris hung up on me, I couldn’t help but keep her in mind on my date. There I was, feeling all sexy due to my new Diesel Andre Brief I was wearing that I got from the MensUnderWearStore.com. So far, this was my favorite underwear since joining the Date Night Challenge–and once you click on the link, I think you’ll understand why. The brief itself is fun, sexy and extremely comfortable. I was living it up in New York City with my hot boyfriend when the phone rang. It was Cris.
Cris: I know you’re on a date, I saw it on facebook.
Cris: It jiggled.
Nando: Jesus Christ. Have you talked to your trainer?
Nando: You know, it might not even be arm fat, it might be relaxed muscle ABOUT to turn into hard muscle.
Cris: That exsists?
Nando: I think I read something about this happening to a woman in Australia.
Cris: So I can turn my car around and head back home?
Nando: Where were you going?
I love Cris. I love my boyfriend. Cris is in Iowa. My boyfriend is in my same zip code. Sometimes I feel like I see Cris more than my boyfriend. But it’s one of those things that I wouldn’t change in the world. As it turns out, it wasn’t arm fat–just an overactive imagination and a jacket that shrunk when her husband was asked to to the laundry. How was my date? It was good. Now, since Cris is coming for a visit in 3 days, I’m hoping I can get another date with my boyfriend. Anyone care to babysit my Cris–just keep her away from Wendy’s.
Gay men rule. We bring a spark to the wold, a glittery shine that otherwise would be missing in this dark, gloomy place we call Earth. Give us a potato and an onion and we’ll put Martha Stewart to shame by creating a flamboyant celebratory meal that’s delicious, sexy and finger-licking-good! Hand us an difficult project at work and not only will we meet deadline, but we’ll place neon-pink post-its to mark a few errors we identified along the way, just as a reminder that we Gays work hard for our money! But give us a boyfriend and we freak out four months later, after we stopped producing PEA and have no clue how to bring the “mo” back into a ho-mo-sexual romance. At least that’s what happened to me a few weeks ago.
As Santiago and I eased into our fourth month, things got a little routine. The dirty winks weren’t as dirty and the passionate kisses we lacking, well, the kissing part. It was work, then home, then sleep; lather, rinse and repeat. Sure, we went out to eat a few times, went to a movie or two and even paid a visit to other Gay coupes (to see how they keep the spark alive) but we discovered they all went through the same thing; Gay-love routine. Is this how my life is going to be? Me, a sexy, brilliant, Mexican cougar, with my hot 25-year-old boyfriend, sitting at home watching the Cake Boss on TLC? (while flipping channels during the commercial breaks to watch, Say Yes To The Dress?) That’s when it hit me. Actually, I hit Santiago.
Nando: Our life is boring. (I smacked him in his left arm)
Santiago: (Watching the Cake Boss frost a fish) What?
Nando: We do the same thing over and over again. I’m always stressed because of my book deadline that I can’t have fun because then I feel guilty that I’m not working on my book. And when I am working on my book, I feel uninspired. The only thing I have is the gym.
Santiago: How ’bout I beat the hell out of you, like you just did my arm? Will that inspire you?
Nando: I’m serious.
After feeling sorry for myself and a regularly scheduled commercial break, Santiago suggested we start working out together. But did I really want my boyfriend at the gym with me? I mean, that’s my alone time. That’s my inner-me time. That’s my “looking-at-hot-men-in-the-nude” time. But I figured, why not? So we decide to do the gayest thing the gym offers: spin class! And its actually put a spark back into the relationship. As we’re both sweating our Mexican asses off, we smile, breathe hard, and grunt at one another with a renewed passion. Gay-love can be so spiritual. The spark is back. And let me tell you–there’s nothing hotter than seeing your sweaty man naked in the showers! We tried getting naughty in the there, but he’s too shy and with the risk of getting caught and not to mention foot fungi–we decided to leave the spicy stuff for home.
Spin class has shed a light on our relationship. It’s a sexy and healthy thing we do together, and every once in a while, when he’s out of breath, about to pass out and not looking–I glance over to him on his bicycle and think, “Good, Lord, look at how wet his ass is!” but I also think, “I”m so lucky.” Santiago’s the first boyfriend who’s taken the time to discover what I like and figured out how to include himself in the activity without being clingy. And even though we’re missing the Cake Boss and other awesome shows because of conflicting schedules, there’s nothing better than biking your way to love–frost that, Cake Boss!
What do you do to keep a spark going? Leave a comment.
Many say that love actually can be found all around us–if we look hard enough; especially at airports. No one’s seen with tears of anger when they greet someone or feels hate while holding up a “Welcome Back Home” sign–but for me, I used to feel the extra load of loneliness when traveling–I never had that special someone wishing me safe travels or greeting me with a smile on my return flight home. But things have changed. In as little as two months–my life is different; because of the boyfriend, Santiago.
When we met, I knew there was something special about Santiago, something different–a calming yet refreshing vibe and I quickly recognized his worth–and the only question was; did he feel the same? You see, when dating, especially in New York, the problem isn’t meeting people, it’s meeting people on the same dating page as you. And we’re faced with so many new issues: who pays on the first date or when to bring your shampoo over to when do you say, “I love you.” But as Santiago and I took it date by date, shaping our own dating experience and ignored several “rules” placed by people who just really wanted to make a buck or two with their “expertise” advice, we kept our eye on the big picture–respect. It also didn’t hurt any that we’re both Mexican and “do the nasties” any chance we get–don’t judge.
So when I decided to take a trip to Iowa–where I run to when I need some time away from the city to reconnect with family–I did the unthinkable–I asked the boyfriend to come even though we had only been together for one month. He agreed. (Not sure which one of the two was the craziest; me for asking or him for accepting) But we did it–we took the leap–against the advice of a few experts and close friends. I wasn’t sure if I was sure–did I really want him to come? What if we fought? What if my family didn’t like him? What if he didn’t like my family? There were so many “what ifs” in the picture–so I did the one thing I’m good at–I got a new canvas and started a new art project. I made the decision to take a leap of faith based on our excellent communication, mutual respect, and his love of family.
Tonight is our last day here in Iowa, we leave for the airport tomorrow at 6 am and head back to Brooklyn. And it’s been an amazing week, he seamlessly fit in and created bonds with all of my family; I can’t begin to describe how all the kids have latched onto him–even the youngest of the bunch, Isabella (the two-year-old visiting from Croatia) and who can’t pronounce his name entirely but runs to our room in the mornings and yells, “Donde esta Ago?” Which translates to, “Where is Santiago?” I think he’s going to miss her the most–I found the two having a tea party with her speaking Croatian while he sang her a Spanish folk song about a China tea shop. Neither one of them understood one another, but the smiles and hugs they exchanged told me that language wasn’t a real priority.
I’m glad Santiago came along and made such a huge splash in the hearts of the poeple here in Iowa. His kind heart and generuos spirit were greatly accepted and appreciated. He and I grew closer on this trip as we learned how to handle stressful situations without exchanging one harsh word–that’s an accomplishment. As the world grows with knowledge that’s available online, books, and audiotapes, and with so many sites on “how to date”, “the rules to land a man”, and guides on “what not to do when dating”–I can’t help but wonder, “When will we learn the simple rule of just following our hearts?”