Under no circumstances should a bowl be confused for a microphone. If something with weed in it is passed to you, SMOKE IT -- don't sit there and give me a 10-minute monologue while everyone else in the room anxiously waits for you to pass it on.

Posted by Toby at 11:02 AM | Permalink

I feel as if the best part of my day will have been when I splashed cool water onto my face a few moments ago. Should this be the case, the best part of my day has already passed, which means it is all down hill from here. It's only 9:27 a.m. Fantastic!

Posted by Toby at 09:28 AM | Permalink

Posted by Toby at 11:28 AM | Permalink

Posted by Toby at 10:55 AM | Permalink

Evelyn Vitullo is a mother of four grown children, a widow of a retired military officer, a community volunteer, and a Sunday School teacher. She is pro-life, wants to cut foreign aid, and eliminate wasteful governmental spending. Her top priorities are education reform and protecting Social Security. Vitullo also ran in 2000, but did not qualify for the ballot in any primary states.

Posted by Toby at 02:38 PM | Permalink

Posted by Toby at 01:39 PM | Permalink

I was not invited to my friend's birthday party last night. Whatever -- I'm not even sure why he is celebrating in the first place. He's 31, shouldn't he be in mourning?

Anyway. Now I am finally 20 years old. How inconsequential, sort of like my life.

Posted by Toby at 11:25 AM | Permalink

Posted by Toby at 06:55 PM | Permalink

When normal people think of birthday cards, they think Hallmark or Shoebox Greetings or perhaps those 'novelty' cards featuring tan and toned studmuffins of the 1980s.

I say this because of the unusual birthday card I received from a friend this afternoon. It was a black-and-white copy of his 8.5x11 headshot (who knew he had a headshot?) with a little note scribbled on the back: 'To say I missed you would be an understatement. Happy 20th birthday.'

HONESTLY, WHO SENDS A HEADSHOT AS A BIRTHDAY CARD? Only a self-absorbed d!va could do such a thing...

And that is why I dig him. :D I'll post a pic of the card later today, hehe.

Posted by Toby at 03:54 AM | Permalink

My parents gave me some money for my birthday, so I treated myself to a hot pair of Prada sunglasses from bluefly.com. Aren't they amazing?

Posted by Toby at 02:11 PM | Permalink

I have been on the meat market since my senior year in high school. Some relationships have lasted longer than others, but I'd like to say that I am fairly experienced. In dating, that is. Perverts.

OK, so since I have been in a number of relationships, I know how to act in a relationship. You call the guy a lot. You IM him if he is online. You want to act interested, but not too interested. After all, there is nothing worse than an overbearing boyfriend.

So why is it that after one week of dating, my friends are posting away message shout-outs to their boys? I'm talking, 'Can't wait to see my baby!' and 'Miss you, hun!' and 'I love you!' Yes! I love you! After one week! It is really pissing me off. And the more it pisses me off, the more I feel like a cold, frigid bitch. A cold, frigid and single bitch.

Whatever. If you are lucky enough to be in a relationship, don't rub it in everyone's face. No one cares that you miss your pseudo-boyfriend of ten days. Especially not me. I swear to goddess, my next away message is going to be, 'I fucked your boyfriend tonight, I sure do miss him! Muah!'

Posted by Toby at 01:39 AM | Permalink

I smoked a nice J with my old skool friends last night. Boy, I sure do miss them while I'm in D.C. Unfortunately I won't be able to see them until they drive down to visit the new apartment in May. Oh well -- at least I was able to squeeze in a nice smokey smoke session into this weekend's busy schedule.

And let me just tell you the story about how I procured said J. It was 9:30 on Friday morning -- one hour before my train was to leave Union Station for New York. Debbie said it was up to me to get the weed since her dealer 'fell through' (a.k.a. she was too lazy/cheap to get any herself), so I had to IM my source. He told me to head up to his room on the sixth floor, and I do, only to find him stumbling around his room, seemingly drunk. Apprently he had eaten shrooms on Wednesday night and had a bad trip. He could not even stand. His poor roommate was sleeping peacefully on the other side of the room, which made things very awkward.

My source offered me a J for $15 and said he'd roll another for just a little bit more. I knew I'd be getting ripped off, but I threw down a $20 bill, grabbed the J, and split. It was just too weird. If he can't even stand up straight, how on Earth was he going to roll a joint? And might I add -- WHO THE HELL BUYS DRUGS AT 9:30 IN THE MORNING? Me, apparently. Argh.

PS I head back to D.C. tomorrow, thank God. Which reminds me -- happy Easter to those that are moronic enough to be a Christian.

Posted by Toby at 10:36 AM | Permalink

I am leaving for New York this morning to visit my parents. I will be there until Monday morning. I really should not be going, seeing as how I have three papers due next week. I would also like to add that I worked the front desk yesterday morning from 1:30 a.m. until 7:30 a.m. because no one came to relieve me at 5:30 a.m. Subsequently I do not feel guilty for skipping out on my shift this evening. My fellow employees can eat a dick. That is all.

Posted by Toby at 08:53 AM | Permalink

Further evidence as to why I should check my email more often:

hi toby,

just wanted to say I was surfing around, bored, and lo and behold, I encountered vividblurry.com. you have a great site, I love reading journal-type-stuff! hee hee... and of course we're honored you gave the site such a clever name :)

we're taking a bit of a break over the summer to relax and work on some new songs. we need some serious face time with shay, our singer, as she lives in nyc and the rest of us are here in DC- so we're going to spend a few months rehearsing WITH her, something we seldom get to do.

anyway, thanks again for putting up a great site (with a great address!) and take care of yourself. when we play this area again, please come introduce yourself so we can buy you a drink!

cheers,

bunny (aka sean, drummer for moodroom)

Posted by Toby at 04:33 AM | Permalink

I just spent some time with my ex-boyfriend. Nothing has changed. If I dated him again, I would lose my mind. It's a shame, really.

Posted by Toby at 02:28 AM | Permalink

It occurred to me this morning that I am the only gay guy worth dating at my school. That is all.

So I text messaged the prospective student during breakfast: 'Eating cereal, thinking of you.' How cute is that? I also IMed my ex-boyfriend (not the LiveJournal one) and apologized for missing his 2:30 a.m. phone call. He was away, and so I am still wondering why he would call me three times in the middle of the night. He was probably drunk and just wanted to chat.

My relationship with him seems to go in cycles. There will be a long stretch of silence, and then out of the blue, he'll walk up to me on the quad and say hello. From there, we will IM each other sparingly, and in a matter of days, we'll go to the cafeteria for lunch, or I'll stop by his room to catch up in person. Then he'll do something, which is truly nothing, to piss me off, and I'll block him.

Hopefully that won't happen this time. Hopefully I've grown up.

Posted by Toby at 11:11 AM | Permalink

A few weeks ago, I met this really cute prospective student who will be attending my school in the fall. He visited me last weekend so that we could go to a club together -- I was too fucked up to make it to the club, but we still chilled afterwards. We hooked up the next morning, and I figured that would be the end of it.

But he visited me again this weekend, and I'm starting to really like him. First of all, he's hot. Second, he's my age (unlike that 30-year-old I was interested in a few weeks ago). Third, he's very sweet. I dunno, I'm just going to go with the flow. He lives in PA, so until he moves to DC in August, I won't see very much of him.

My ex-boyfriend (not the LiveJournal one) has been talking to me again. Invited me to a BBQ yesterday afternoon. I had just sparked a bowl, so I was in no condition to go. But I unblocked him from my buddy list and am finding myself wishing we were dating again. Argh.

Posted by Toby at 12:16 PM | Permalink

Je ne veux pas travailler

Je ne veux pas déjeuner

Je veux seulement l'oublier

Et puis je fume!

-Pink Martini, 'Sympathique'

Posted by Toby at 01:49 PM | Permalink

My ex-boyfriend and I shared a very nice conversation this morning. It was 4:30 a.m., and I was manning the front desk, listening to a burnt CD of Garbage b-sides. I believe '#1 Crush' was playing -- how apropos. He walked in carrying a bag of groceries, and I smiled and said hello. Not wanting to be the jealous bitch I've been for the past six months, I didn't stop smiling until he left the front desk.

He said he was tired of the gay scene, how there was nothing for him at the clubs, and how he was returning from a party that he 'didn't want to go to in the first place.' I told him that it was OK to take a break from the scene but that he shouldn't disappear entirely lest he lose contacts with his friends. I tried to be very positive, and I continued to smile.

He asked how I was doing, and I said I was doing well. 'At least one of us is,' he said. I told him to cheer up, and he hugged me before he left. That night, he was in my dream. He is so beautiful, and I am so mad at myself for having these feelings.

But all ex-boyfriend melodrama aside, I am living on campus next year with my friend Alex. I am very excited. The end.

Posted by Toby at 01:43 PM | Permalink

For a while, there was a sense of security in my life. I had landed both a well-paid summer job and a nice apartment to sublet until the start of fall semester. And then the sublet plans fell through. One of the residents decided to stay in the apartment during the summer, and my friend never told me this, so I had to hear through the grapevine that I had no place to live between May and August.

And then I discovered an apartment down the street from my school. It was a spacious one-bedroom flat, and the floorplan was such that converting the living room into a second bedroom wouldn't be a problem. And the rent! Boy, what a steal. Only $995 a month, all utilities included. Perfect! My friend and I handed in our applications and $250 security deposit the next day.

And then I get a phone call from the rental manager a day later. Someone had submitted an application a few hours after we were given a tour of the apartment. Unfortunately, she said, the apartment was no longer ours. After a few days of exhiliration (I have my own place! I can decorate it as I wish! I'll be able to smoke and drink and light candles! And it's right near campus!), I was back to square one.

And so this morning, I ventured out to more apartment buildings. And I hated them. They were gloomy and sad and too far from campus. No one would ever visit me. I'd be lonely. And I can't stand being lonely. I'd rather sign up for on-campus housing next fall and pray that I get a decent roommate.

And that is what I am going to do. At least I will be in the same building as all of my friends. And it's only for one semester. I can handle this. It's not so bad. And I've already found a place to sublet during the summer! Things could be worse. A lot worse.

And the sad thing is that it took three lines of Adderall for me to feel this way. The fact that I went from borderline manicdepressive to vacant contentment in four minutes is astonishing and unnerving. I would take a nap, but I'm so high on speed that I'll research my term paper for the next few hours. Amen for prescription drugs and those that are rapidly becoming dependant on them.

Posted by Toby at 02:29 PM | Permalink

Yup, I'm pretty sure that I'm having an emotional breakdown. Again.

Posted by Toby at 01:53 PM | Permalink

The rental manager from the apartment building called this evening to inform me that she could no longer offer my friend and me the one-bedroom apartment we had our eyes on. Despite our handing in the paperwork yesterday afternoon, someone else had left an application in her mailbox the other evening. As she told me this, a wave of devastation crashed over me, and I felt like reaching into the phone and beating the living shit out of her.

Interestingly, every other person in that apartment's rental office refers to themselves by their first name, i.e. Heather or Juanita or Steve. This woman, however, insists that people call her Ms. Thomas. It got really weird when I called the office one afternoon and was asked if I'd rather speak to 'Heather, or Ms. Thomas.' What the fuck. Is she the fucking ringleader of an escort service or something? Argh.

Anyway, I'm really pissed off and depressed, and I have to spend all of tomorrow looking for another place to live. This is so fucking insane, I don't have time for this, and to my dismay, I must get back to copyediting shitty feature stories submitted by astonishingly untalented writers because I have the unfortunate job of 'Features Editor' of my school paper. IT NEVER FUCKING ENDS, DOES IT.

Posted by Toby at 09:01 PM | Permalink

So I found an apartment! Right near the school. It is so cute! A one-bedroom with a spacious living room. I'll be living there from May until December. Yay! I'm so excited! I have never had my own apartment before! OMG!

I'll post a picture of it tomorrow. :D

Posted by Toby at 07:52 PM | Permalink

Last night at some frat party, this straight boy I have a crush on said to me, 'You shouldn't smoke cigarettes, you are too good looking to die young.' HOW CUTE IS THAT? Could he possibly be gay and simply closeted?

Posted by Toby at 12:35 PM | Permalink

As I sparked the lighter and swept the flame over my bowl, I took in more than just a cloud of smoke. I took in the clear night sky, the warm air around me, the large expanse of grass that stretched to form my school's track, the comforting presence of my two best friends, the conspicuous sense of tranquility that seemed unfitting during a time of such global unrest.

And for some reason, I thought back to high school. When I was too skinny. Too pale. Had weird eyebrows. An ugly nose. I was unattractive. I knew that if anyone was foolish enough to date me, it would be because of my personality, not my looks. Because my face was so hideous, I vowed to hit the gym everyday once I graduated high school so that I'd at least have a hot body to fall back on. I looked in the mirror often, and always with disgust. Any reflective surface would do, actually -- just as long as I was able to catch a glimpse of myself and have time to think, 'You are ugly.' I went to bed each night wishing I was someone else: Ryan, the buff, tan, impossibly handsome soccer player. Matt, the buff, tan, impossibly handsome wrestler. Brian, the buff, tan, impossibly handsome track athlete. They all had girlfriends. And a lot of friends. And the ability to make me feel like a helpless loser. All I had was good grades. And a self-esteem complex. That, too.

When I finally exhaled, I watched the smoke dissipate along with all the hateful thoughts that still threaten me to this day. And somehow, it was the single most beautiful moment of my entire life.

Posted by Toby at 03:37 PM | Permalink

1. During my politics class this evening, a boy across the room from me had his bare foot propped on the desk and was methodically picking at his big toenail. And if you think that isn't heinous enough: after procuring what I dare not imagine from his foot, he would proceed to place it in his mouth. Yes. He ate something from his foot. In the middle of class. No joke. If this is what he does in public, I can only imagine what this freakshow does in the privacy of his own room.

2. I do not like it when people feel the need to post their night's itinerary in an away message. 'Going to see a play, then maybe stopping at the bar if they boys are still there, then off to 1865 K Street for some fun stuff!! Cell me kids!!' You know, I really don't give a shit whether you are going out to a bar or taking a massive shit in the men's restroom. Why don't you just post a quick 'Out and About' or perhaps lame Dave Matthews lyrics like everyone else, OK? Bastard.

3. This guy. Someone please tell me how this passive, insipid, and yet utterly self-absorbed Bible thumper not only has a successful weblog but was also interviewed by the New York Times? I think that he's closeted -- should this be the case, ignore everything I said because I'd hook up with him before you can say 'Jesus loves you.'

Posted by Toby at 09:34 PM | Permalink

'Growing Up Gay' appeared as a fourteen-page special section in the Minneapolis Star Tribune on December 6, 1992. The writers of the special sought to know how gay kids lived their lives and why the schools, the churches, and their families were failing them -- a subject never before approached due to skeptical editors who either predicted young gays would not talk openly or that there was no such thing as a homosexual teen. An excerpt from the special can be read below:

From the time they realize they're gay, kids are wounded, and you don't have to spend much time with them to see it. Despised for their sexual orientation, most of them become self-imposed exiles, suffering a bitter loneliness that shakes their identity and eats away at self-esteem. The most troubled ones drop out of school, run away from home, turn to prostitution, drugs or alcohol. Many try to kill themselves, and sometimes they succeed.

Posted by Toby at 10:14 PM | Permalink

I am writing a paper on the depiction of homosexuals in the news media after the outbreak of HIV/AIDS in the early 1980s. Any ideas for sources, references, or possible angles? Leave a comment and let me know.

I love you guys, you know. Just thought I'd let you know that. Thanks for everything. :D

Posted by Toby at 08:32 PM | Permalink