Tall Poppies & Cream Pies

I had a little bit of a shock this week, 260 comments by people and I found my first openly hostile one.  Its ok I'm not annoyed, I guess I feel a little bit like Carrie Bradshaw when she becomes obsessed with becoming a "huge target", Sam says to her about her picture being on the side of a bus " It's like a giant size personal ad" well putting my private life out here in public cyber space I guess I should have known some one would eventally take a cheap shot at me.  I'm not going to draw attention to it or delete it, but I will address it.
Firstly when I use the term "A gay" I am being ironic.  The first time I heard that used on Queer as Folk I nearly through up, I find it the most repugnant discusting term I have ever heard, but that is why I use it, because I find it shocking to think that people think like that.  But then again, I have seen some shallow queeny guys with low self esteem who think in class systems when it comes to their own inner world, I don't judge them, I feel sorry that they feel that under valued  and worthless as people that they need to start a pecking order in their head withthem selves on top, and every one else beneath them.  I use the term A gay to draw attention to the lack of self worth I see visable in the gay community, with the expectation that people see that I am being ironic, but I know you can't hear my tonality, so I appologise to any one who thought I was being serious, I am so far from being serious when I use that term.  But I do find it interesting that the person who wrote the scathing comment about me, must have thought I was, is that how his inner world works?
I was also called a himbo.  I would actually like to be a gay himbo.  I have always struggled with feeling attractive, so if someone thinks I am stupid and vapid and hot, I would love that, because I have always felt smart, tortured and fat.
I was also asked if i was really just looking for myself in another guy.  I have oftern wondered would I like to fuck myself, and I think I would.  I really wish I could, but I can't so.... what to do, but I did think about this part for a little bit.  The comment maker thinks this is a bad thing, I don't, but am I wrong to want some one like myself?  He may have a point but I can't see what it is yet, maybe with age I will see the wisdom in this comment.
And the fnal critizim was that I was a typical shallow Sydney poof who went to body line and bragged about it.  Well I have no problem with being called a typical Sydney poof I have no cringe with that identidy, but the trueth is I know I am not typical at all, so it isn't hurtful at all.  I find that as hurt full as being called gay, "Yes, yes I am, thanks for noticing". NOT AT ALL.  It used to hurt to be called that when it was painful to be different, I'm glad to be gay now.
But for all the venom in his comments, I read a bit of his blog and I noticed bitter and openly resentful was his comfortable writting style, I can get dark with the best of them, but I never see the point, why spread misery? I don't get it.  All I need to do is call my parents if I want misery, there is enough on the other end of the phone to last anyone a life time.

But on a serious note, thank you for writing that comment, I find it spiteful, but helpful.  I thought I was a humble person, I know I can be proud at times, but I thought as long as I was KNOWINGLY obnoxious, then it was ok.  I think one can be shallow, as long as it is knowingly shallow.  There is no greater douchebag than someone who is blind to what a nob they are.  I thought I had had my fair share of hardship and their for I could be brazen about money, sex, status and other social things that have lead people to call me elitist in the past.  I guess what that comment made me realise is that life can be very tough.  I think I have had it tough, and I have, but to someone reading my blog who doesn't know all of me, they may find me a bit on the nose.  I appologise for that.  I am sorry, seriously, I don't ever mean to wave my life in front of others as a trophy, I try to celebrate the good things that happen to me, to not deminsh them, and I try to acknowledge that bad things as well, but not as much because who wants to read about pain and misery? not me, unless there is a funny ending or a lesson to learn.
About a year ago a lady served me in Woolworths Crownest Deli, she was middle aged not aging well, out of date glasses, and a big scare down her face, a car accident I though maybe.  She had some obvious difficutly talking and doing even little things like putting the ham in the plastic bag.  I watched her and cringed, not because she repolsed me, but because she turned to her co worker and asked him how his weekend had been, and then she asked another follow up queastion.  I would say this lady was brain damaged some how, but she managed to rock up to work, serve me, take an interest in the people around her, struggle through her speach difficulty, was probably in pain by the way she walked.  She seemed stressed by even the smallest things she needed to do, and yet she battled on with determination.  I would hate to work in retail at 44.  I really would, but here is a women who is fighting much bigger battles then me and she can do it.  There was something about the dignity that she had in doing a job I would find demeaning, she touched my heart.  I see people like her occationally over the city, they really bring me down a notch.  There is dignity to be had in fighting your own battles, every bodies' is different, no one has it all easy, some look easier than others, but who knows what they are hiding.  I can't stand pride, ego and arrogence, which I guess is what the comment writer saw in me when he called me very concited.  I can't walk round with faux humility, like religious people do, its so discusting, humility as an identity, I can't stand it.  I try to be guienly humble, when its called for, but "fun" is an identity that I find much for comfortable and attractive, some people arn't comfortable with "fun", they want people to be serious.  I find serious tedious, and it should only be brought out when needed, other wise hidden away.  The closest things to swear words for me are: settled, practical, and sensible.  Nothing rips the joy out of life like those words and people who live by them.