So I wanted to let you know something. I unfriended you on Facebook today. And you. And yes, despite my reservations, you too. I’ve been thinking about it for a while, even though it’s just social media, and in the end it’s only pixels. I wondered for some time why we were even online friends anymore. I wondered if I was still friends with you so that I could see your life, but that’s definitely not it: I blocked you from my feed afterwards. Maybe I blocked you because it stung a little when you posted something joyous and frivolous the day after you hurt me. No, that wasn’t against any dating “rules.” It was just tacky as fuck of you. I haven’t looked at your page since then.
I realized I was still friends with you because I found value in you seeing how great my life has become since you hurt me. I wanted you to read my book or wish you were hanging with me in my awesome pad. But I quickly realized how narcissistic that was. In the end, I don’t give bad people the benefit of access to my life. You broke the social construct of decency. So I pressed the button, and I felt fucking fantastic about it. Wait, what’s that? You’re surprised? Okay, here’s why: Continue reading
You know that feeling when you’ve worked on something for a really long time, and you release it into the world? It’s wonderful and terrifying. Those are the feelings I get when I announce the release of my first book, The Tropic Of Never. It wasn’t a difficult birth, but the conception was less than auspicious: Continue reading
“Date Night” (from l to r, Michael James Schneider, Michael James Schneider; manipulation by Tucker Cullinan)
Fifth in a series. Here’s Part 1, about how I’m using a hookup app to find husband material, here’s Part 2, where I learn a life lesson from my worst date ever, here is Part 3, about realizing I’m only attracted to jerks, and here’s Part 4, where I put forth that age is just a number, until it isn’t.
Self-awareness is a terrifying and wonderful thing. So is self-loathing. One is great for growth and change, and the other is good for…well, it’s good for self-deprecating blog posts. One thing I’ve learned in this last couple years of being single is
how to down an entire box of Franzia in one evening that it takes a lot of guts to date. I mean, it’s basically parading your entire, horrible, broken self out there and hoping that someone else loves your sad life and lumpy, misshapen body.
But what happens when it’s one too many rejections? With all the rejection I’ve had these past two years, the real common denominator isn’t that I’m attracted to only jerks (because I’m not anymore), or that I’m into something weird like ButterSports (because I’m not but God that sounds delicious). The universal factor is me. If there’s nothing wrong with the world, maybe there’s something wrong with me. So I took myself on a date, and it went about as well as you could expect. Continue reading
from l. to r., Kevin Kauer, Michael James Schneider, Nick Mattos
This is how it works: life happens the same as always, day after day. You go to work, you go home, you eat ice cream on the couch and pet your cat, and you lose yourself in the routine. Then, one day, everything falls apart — and things get interesting. Then, things get really interesting. Continue reading
Sina Grace has been busy, but wrote this for BLCKSMTH recently. It’s pretty great:
Sina Grace, by the artist himself
There was this six-month period right after college when my friend (and former classmate) and I came to LA with the dreams of being prolific and fantastic writers, just like we were at UC Santa Cruz. In college, I received not only one but TWO awards for my thesis: a novel about a gay wizard detective (I know, right?). One of those awards was for MONEY. I also won a research grant. If life was anything like college, my proactive peers and I believed we were going to make our dreams come true on the reg.
We were in for a Super Fucking Rude Awakening. Continue reading
(from l. to r., Michael James Schneider, Ned)
I’m the single guy who actually, secretly loves Valentine’s Day. Like, to say “I heart it” is an understatement. Who wouldn’t? Spring is just around the corner, couples are walking around hand in hand, and then there’s me. Struggling with my groceries after another day at work, going to my apartment in NE Portland, open the door…and there’s my cat, Ned, mad that I haven’t fed him yet. He’s all the man I need. Probably all the man I can handle. And you know what they say: the first cat is always the gateway cat. Continue reading
I just celebrated my first 6 months here in Portland, and (finally) moved into my permanent pad in NE…I can get down to posting more frequently than ONCE A MONTH. I’m finding that there are so many brave, talented artists here it’s scary, and Wayne Bund is no exception. He’s a Portland-based photographer and performance artist who can also host a damn fine party. He braved an 8am call in the freezing cold (I may be losing a toe) to channel his inner Ewok with me in
the Forest of Endor Mt. Tabor park, and Tucker Cullinan added a little magic, like he’s expertly done in previous posts.
The force was totally with us.
Mike’s pick: Stepdad, My Leather, My Fur, My Nails Listening to this is like watching bears at a circus. Nope, the other kind of bears:
(the video is pretty great too) Continue reading