Why do all good things come to an end?

“Flames to dust, lovers to friends.
Why must all good things come to an end?”
~Nelly Furtado

It’s been in incredibly intense summer for me. So much has changed, I feel like I’ve grown so much while stagnantly remaining the same. Unfortunately I’ve had rifts with those I felt close to earlier this season as well as more recently. The cliché’s of friends for a reason, friends for a season, and friends for life has never meant more to me than is has while typing this …. again … comfortably buzzed off good warm cognac, a little misty. NOT an easy feat trying to impress the cute flight attendant while he looks puzzled refilling my water glass watching me sniffle and sob “listening to music.” Little does he know I’ve just finished the epic septilogy (did I make this word up?) that is Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. But more on that later.

In the immortal words of the boy with the golden hair himself,

"lol nothing like some good old retail therapy to soothe the homosexual soul"

I stand by my theory that Century 21 has hands down beaten Disneyland (despite Angel's contentions) as the happiest place on earth. According to my receipt I saved $350.06 buying an outfit that I've wanted for for a while.

But again, according to Angel Benton while paraphrasing our favorite femme fa-trillionaire Oprah,

"Nobody ever saved any money by buying something." What does that bitch know? OK fine she’s a billionaire but as I said to win an argument earlier this summer, “money can buy you everything but love and class.”

I've been really quiet lately. Can't really say why other than the fact that it's definitely my fault. I touched the fire and despite the burning sensation I touched it again. Why are we drawn to what we know will hurt us. What causes us this sick desire for masochistic fulfillment. More importantly, how the hell do we move on with our lives and avoid stagnant repetition.

I've always said that when I stopped enjoying what I do I'll stop doing it. I always thought that if being held against my will or having my character attacked by strangers who have no lives outside of their computers didn’t make me question how much I was enjoying life, what would? OK, recoiling my claws a little bit, don’t want those coming out EVER again. I don’t like that person, I didn’t like the person I was becoming and I’ve truly realized it’s just not worth doing it.

Getting lots of emails asking how I am and reminding me how childish and petty people can be really helps but it doesn’t fill the void. When writing poetry about my feelings goes so far as to question myself, my values, my intents; that gives me reason to wonder if I’m still enjoying myself.

“It’s a bittersweet symphony, that’s life.
Try to make ends meat, you’re a slave to money, then you die.”
~The Verve

I’m thankful for all my friends and support that I’ve been getting from them lately, I’ve needed it. There’s been a void in my life that perhaps was caused by the summer. I celebrated another birthday in early August and again the celebration was low key. Not the same kind of low key as midnight burgers with Rick Munroe and Derek Ross somewhere in Chelsea Clinton (yes I know it’s Hells Kitchen or Chelsea but I like that name better) but something I never really took into account.

Instead of a failed attempt at a last minute party and arranging the social schedules of the socialites of West Hollywood to come to me or get sloshed in my honor, I arrange a quiet dinner with those who I considered to be my closest friends and it was one of the best birthdays ever. There weren’t even any gifts (that just got me thinking about all the IOU cards but I digress) and I still felt like I’d been given the world. I feel blessed to have learned early on realize that having at least two or three really close friends is more important than a 1500 some odd contact list of acquaintances one sees a few times a year.

It feels like years ago though only months but I met with a psychic in the first months of the year and discussed everything from school, to finances, to love and beyond. Frankly I think everything he said was poppycock and hooey (wow, spell check didn’t have a problem with EITHER of those, fascinating) but the one comment he did make that made sense was this:

“Screw ‘New Year’s Resolutions,’ they don’t apply to you. Anything you resolve to do in the early months of the year will only fail you. Your new year begins on your birthday and thus your decisions to change your life only have power then.”

OK, so between lunar alignments up Uranus, the position of the earth, global warming, and the current popularity of “Leave Britney Alone,” I’m under the distinct impression that my “new year” gets to last between August and October. My summer was a tragically bittersweet rollercoaster that had so many ups and downs I thought that I was in bad lifetime movie of the week.

Summer prides, exes and their new boyfriends, Gay Days at Disney, friends dealing with substance abuse, parties in the hills, new generations of mean girls, movies in the cemetery, bad reactions to laser hair removal, new friends, lost friends, remodeling my apartment, and losing my favorite roommate. Among other things this summer has been anything but dull. Yet my main cause for discord has been my feelings of stagnation. Isn’t the very essence of stagnation dullness, the absence of change? Till recently and even now a sense of boredom overcomes me and makes me feel like there’s no hope of change.

OK, depressing myself again. Silver linings, new beginnings. Oh yeah I’m happy. That’s the ticket.

BEWARE the next section is going to be made the same color as my background so that anyone desiring to read it MUST actively highlight it to read it. This is occurring because I am including references to the end of the Harry Potter series. I managed to last months while my painfully slow reading habits got through the book at the running speed of Slughorn and NOT seeing the NYtimes review or hearing any of the analysis of the book. AGAIN, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. If you don’t want to read what happens to Harry DO NOT highlight the text below.

Thank god he didn’t die. WOW. Yeah. I had gotten through a significant chunk of the book ( a feat only possible due to the Bose QC3 headphones – must haves for all travelers ) on my way to New York so my goal was to have it finished by the flight home. Cut to me listening in parts walking around the city and finally getting to the last chapters and Harry “resurrecting” his parents and all the shmaltz that went with that. Either Jim Daly is a magnificent narrator, Rowling is an awe inspiring writer, or I’m a sucker for a sad story line. Probably all three. I was getting teary eyed walking down Eighth Avenue … with no sunglasses. Apparently this was going to have to wait.

Armed with a congac warming itself over a mug of hot water, I hit play on my iPod and awaited the end of the story that had been gripping the world for months already.

“Neither can live while the other survives.” Just when Rowling has made you think you’re an idiot for misinterpreting the prophecy along with Harry, she makes you second guess yourself again and again. Harry has so many deep moments in the end of this story from his realization of the importance of life and every beat of his heart to the knowledge that a life without feeling is not worth living at all.

In The Hours, Nicole Kidman as Virginia Woolf explains to young children why someone has to die in her writing, “Someone needs to die so that the others value life.” The same holds true in this tale. Since Dumbledore’s demise a book earlier and with gradually more important deaths ranging from Hedwig his Owl to Mad-Eye to close friends and mentors like Lupin, Tonks and Fred; Potter begins to learn the value of life. His self sacrificing efforts in the plot twist of himself being the last Hoarcrux is so powerful that …ok, so ends the book review. The book really touched me and her writing really couldn’t have come at a better time for me in my life.

As I’ve discussed before, the social reaction to “finales” of any series is much like the psychological stages of dealing with death. At first we are in denial that it’s actually happening. Then we get depressed about the topic shortly before getting angry with whomever’s fault it is. After the anger subsides we begin to bargain with the idea that whoever screwed us over will maybe have a reunion “episode” or one last book to appease the masses crying out for their blood. Finally there is acceptance. Think about it, how often does a “finale” ever live up to your expectations at first. You pick and pull and dissect thinking there were so many better ways to do it. Finally you realize that there probably was no better way and it’s for the best.

Like the route of Will and Grace and Frasier, Rowling opted to move nineteen years into the future to give us that last glimpse of dénouement for the characters we’ve grown to love. The closure of knowing how they ended up is important or else as the reader you just seem to expect more. The sense of knowing that all is well in the world and Harry’s scar no longer bothered him was great – an excellent end to an incredible literary series.

But yeah, so endeth the book review and beginneth the rant. I sincerely hope Warner Brothers does not succumb to the pressures of a youthful target audience in producing the final two movies. Just because eight year olds can’t make it through a movie without going potty is no reason to mangle literature into an adapted screen play that leaves out key plot points.

I admit that I initially made the mistake of assuming that I could see the first four movies and pick up reading the fifth. An incredibly incorrect assumption that led to hours upon hours of listening to the story of the first four installments the way they were intended. The movies are dropping out so much plot content with the purpose of a timelier edited movie. While editing is incredibly important, when parts of the plot are lost it becomes a question of whether or not the story is being told correctly.

The Lord of the Rings trilogy was epic in nature and epic in movie. Very close in theme and content and certainly striving to reach similar audiences, these movies will be remembered in their entirety because they were done right the first time. The Harry Potter series thus far has included very enjoyable movies but could have been so much more. Reading Order of the Phoenix and then seeing it in the theater was just too big of a disappointment.

Other endings and new beginnings in my life involve living with Justin Masters. We’ve both reached a point in our lives that living together was not beneficial to either of us. As with all separations there is some rockiness, I sincerely hope that we pull through and are able to look back on all times good and bad while able to laugh our asses off. He’s a great guy and will certainly go far.

With a new roommate my thoughts were drawn to a new apartment. Not literally but it’s amazing what one wallpapered wall, new furniture, a new television, a new lighting system, new art and a deep cleaning will ….. ok maybe it’s not so amazing.

The place looks completely different and I’ve never been happier. With all the traveling I do I always shudder when people ask the question, “How long have you lived here?” typically referring to the “unfinished projects” around the space. I of course have to cringe and say three years watching that judgmental look saying that I must be a pig slob from hell. Then comes the backpedaling to say that I’m never home and … yeah. It’s gorgeous and my new roommate and I have been putting the patio and new living room to use as often as possible. It’s truly like a new apartment to me.

The irony I fear is that over these three years I always predicted that as soon as I finished decorating and furnishing the apartment I’d be ready to move on. Federal Government adjusting lending percentages a full percent certainly makes that a possibility. Then I remind myself that I have a rent stabilized apartment in the center of West Hollywood and no matter HOW low that loan goes it would be cheaper to stay there and avoid Home Owners Association fees, insurance, the whole shebang. Truly a dilemma ;)

Such a dilemma that our future president Fred Thompson will be able to shed light on. You laugh now but look at this country, hell look at my state. We have the Terminator as government of one of the highest electoral votes in the country and we have wrestlers running cities elsewhere. No question Thompson’s late night talk show pronouncement of his campaign was another brilliant move on his part. America has been watching him “be political” for how many years now on Law and Order? Equal TV time is nearly impossible for the other candidates and you’re talking about a population that really does not follow the issues. At this point we can only hope that art imitates life and that when he fired the hot blonde Serena it truly wasn’t because she’s a lesbian.

From New York D.A.’s to a New York daze, Hustlaball was an certainly a unique experience in its own right. Pictures to follow, yes I know you’ve heard that one before, and some are certainly more amusing than others. Three floors of half naked dancers, nude massage tables, and a stage full of debaucherous entertainment. Bathroom orgies, Chi Chi La Rue, and exposed flesh sum up the evening. Got an incredible massage despite the paparazzi, made new friends, helped old ones, hung out with others I hadn’t seen in ages. The pre party yielded peckers of Rafael Alencar, Barret Long in dildo form, and Victor Steel in the same enchanting evening.

The following night was Tom Weise’s goodbye party. As the face of Rentboy for so long he has decided to move on to Frencher pastures. Co-hosts Angel Benton and local household drag name Shequida, a slew of performances including his own family and other artists like the incredibly bubble butted (with or without the painted on curvature) Shiko Aviance led up to a heartfelt proposal of Weise to his partner. It was a charming Monday evening at Hiro.

The rest of New York was uneventful, amusing and fun but severely uneventful. I was excited to get home for another ending for this year. The summer brings one of the greatest things one can do in Los Angeles. The Hollywood Forever Cemetery is a landmark in film history both literally and figuratively. Over the years the façade has deteriorated a bit so an idea was had to start showing old movies there. They show different movies every season – some of my favorites over the years have been Carrie, Invasion of the Body Snatchers, The Haunting and What Happened to Baby Jane. The perfect movie sitting in a graveyard though was this years finale, The Exorcist. Nothing says fun like Linda Blair shoving a crucifix in her pussy surrounded the decaying bodies of old Hollywood.

It’s put on by the Cinespia Organization varying on the weather from late May until mid September. People bring everything from blankets and crackers to full picnic baskets of gourmet meals. Regardless of what’s amongst your linens, there are always libations. The lineup starts around 5:30, they let you in the gates for the nominal fee of $10/head about 7:30 and the movie starts about nine. After all is said and done, they raise a LOT of money and a good time is had by all watching old screen stars fill up the side of a mausoleum. The best part of the evening is the melting pot of people it creates. Old gays, young gays, normal straights, “alternative” straights and of course likes of me and Jason Seachrest showing up by chance and sitting within feet of each other. What a small and magical city Los Angeles truly is.

Fall has fell, summer’s gone. A new chapter begins. Happy New Year to me.