O my, o my, o my... where do I start from, and how do I stop feeling like a ditsy school girl writing this blogpost?! I've been spending the last couple of days drinking in Manhattan, and I suppose why I feel so... intoxicated. The boys here are unbelievable, really. All those fables we heard around the winter fire when we were wide-eyed eager gay bunnies with bushy tails/asses in Bombay, about the wondrously shining world of Manhattan, all the stylish young (and older) men looking divinely gorgeous, all the designer wear and the designer attitude, the bright lights and the big city - it's all true, me-dearies! The fairy tale is so fabulously fag-ulous, it's enough to lose your sense of being grounded - and thank gawd for that! Welcome to the Big Apple, where the men are simply too cute and sexy to be anything but gay, and the labels scream out so amazingly rich and loud.
OK then, enough with the hyperbole, already. So what have I been up to then? Mmmm.... it's all a whirl of sensations, emotions and excitement, really... Walking in Central Park, remembering the scene where the SATC girls have their picnic; sipping divinely rich mocha and crunching on raspberry rolls at this tucked-in-a-corner Israeli cafe near the Empire State; watching the city spread before me, while up high on the 102nd floor of the Empire State; floating down the Hudson river, watching the harbor lights of the city twinkle in the sunset; Lady Liberty holding her torch alight and me getting an idea for my Halloween costume this year (giggle!); drooling through the Tiffany's window at Fifth Avenue; counting the days/years/decades till I live in a high-rise overlooking Central Park; partaking of Vietnamese food in the original Chinatown and remembering that episode where Carrie freaks out on Big for taking her to a discreet Chinatown restaurant; doodling hours over at the Metropolitan Museum of Art and contemplating Picassos and Renoirs; sipping Starbucks coffee and blowing cream while watching bare-chested Adonis' jog past me out on the street; munching on sidewalk cafes on Broadway; letting the lights of Times Square shine on me like crazy freakin' diamonds; dancing my sexy tush at the Splash bar (and trying not to feel too ugly in front of the semi-naked perfect Gods go-going there);... and all this is just three days. *whew*
So I get an invite to head down to Manhattan's Splash bar for their Sex and the City movie launch party, and I meet this gorgeous Jamaican who's a friend of Sexy Older Guy. The good news is: the Jamaican is realllllly into me. The bad news is... ummm, well, not really bad news, more like the dampener for the unabashed sexual rampage I would have had in mind, was the fact that I'm already "taken". :) So, the Jamaican and I did some hot and heavy dancing, loads of flirting, innuendos and all, lip-licking heart-thumping thoughts and stuff, but when push came to shove, I did a Cinder-fella and scooted from the bar, leaving my glass slippers behind and keeping my undies up where they belong. Well, it wasn't a very a timely exit, seeing that I got back to the hotel at around 4.30 am, but you get what I'm trying to say. That's called Domestication. Capital letters.
O, but the SATC movie is going to be HUGE! Everyone knows that the gay community is waiting anxiously to see it - click here for a firsthand account of the NYC premiere - and I'm dying to get back home and watch it for myself. Will force Irish Coffee to come with me - hell, this is what he gets for having me keep my undies up and not take them off for sexy Jamaicans! *giggle*
In other news: I finally came out to the older brother. :) But that's for another post. This has been a busy couple of days for me in the Big Apple!
Update: Not sure whether it has anything to do with my presence here right now or not, but NY state has just decided to recognize the legality of gay marriages conducted in other parts of the country/world. Perhaps it's a small step away from being the third US state to legalize gay marriage? A teeny bit of wishful thinking never hurt anyone, in any case...
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