The weblogist. Me. Last Night. I don’t know why I’m holding my chin up.

Last night I was invited by my dear friend and mentor, Candida Royalle, to sit on a “panel” of me and her in front of an event hosted by the NYU chapter of the National Organization of Women (NOW). The event, entitled “When Women Call the Shots,” was a rather un-organized but exciting look at some of Ms. Royalle’s previous film work.

First we watched parts of the adult movies “One Size Fits All” and “Studhunters” (which includes a cameo by moi)…and then after the video selections, Candida and I sat in the front of a room of 50 students to discuss pornography as an industry and its effects on women. Except for the moment where I inserted my foot in my mouth, have I mentioned how flexible I am?, and started talking about bestiality, the evening, from my perspective, was an overall success. I have such a trivial gripe. I hate that everyone spells my name wrong. On all the fliers that advertised the event, my name was misspelled. It’s not JaYme - it’s JamYe…big difference, at least for me, since it’s MY name.

Oh, and living proof that you shouldn’t believe everything you read. The event was covered by The Washington Square Mews, NYU’s local paper, and there is more than one factual error.

Read the article

Okay, first off, the reporter didn’t check with me on how I spell my name..and I don’t write a column called “Stepping Out” for Playgirl. Steppin Out is a magazine and my column for Playgirl is called Sex.Ed. I actually had to wait a few minutes before I read the piece, because once I saw my name spelled wrong I got very upset. But the piece isn’t bad at all. Really.

Sometimes I don’t like being a girl. I think I’m hormonally imbalanced. Like after a great night last night I should feel, as Leo D. might say in a movie I should never quote from, “like the king of the world.” Only today, I feel like I am on my own island. I’m bitching about things like the placement of a “Y.” Okay, enough about all of this. Sometimes I bore myself.

Oh, and I forgot to mention two nights ago, when I was drunk off my ass, I got the chance to talk with Alan Cumming. His assistant Joey was all excited that I was from Playgirl, as it was the first magazine he could pick up as a young, gay boy. Yes, I know…but I’ve never denied that Playgirl has a gay following. Anyway, Joey has really kept Alan on top of some sexuality education information. He donated his speaking fee that night to Scarleteen, a website I’ve known about and loved for a number of years. He even explained to the audience the difference between abstinence only education and comprehensive sexuality education. In case you don’t know: While abstinence only ed. talks of abstinence as the only form of safer sex education, comprehensive sex ed explains that abstinence is the best protection against STI’s (sexually transmitted infections) but that if you are going to engage in sexual activity there are other barriers for protection. BIG DIFFERENCE, being that as children, and adults too, we don’t always do as we are told.. (i.e. wait to have sex until marriage). So, if a teenager is having sex and only knows not to, will they necessarily know to use a condom over going in bare?

Okay, I sense my soapbox pulling up, so before I get into this further, I’m going to save this discussion for some other time.

I’m actually looking forward to lunch today. As I was walking to work I wished that I would run into someone I knew but hadn’t seen in a while, and then out of the blue, literally, my oldest friend in the world walks up to me and asks me what I’m doing outside of the building she works in. Turns out it’s only a block from where I work, so we’re going to “lunch” and catch up and probably not talk about sexuality education. Which, by the way, another useless but not so useless bit o’ info…California is the only state that can teach comprehensive sex ed because they don’t take government funding. Damn the rest of us!

Okay. I’m done.

For now.

Guilt is the lowest form of energy you can emit..this I’m learning from a friend and from my past actions. Like my actions last night..which involved drinking way too much on an (almost) empty stomach. Why is it that when the alcohol is free, I feel the need to overindulge in its pleasures?

I can be so annoying, and that’s how I feel today. The boy I really like must agree, I mean I called him, practically slurring, at 11:15 last night, asking why he wouldn’t come over? Does it get more annoying than a whiny Jew Girl asking for some lovin’ at 11:15 on a Tuesday when he’s already given me more time than he normally would the two days before?

I don’t know. I don’t know anything right now except that I’m in the fast forward part of some really strange transition and even though I’ve buckled my seat belt and I’m trying to enjoy the ride, I’m sitting at the back of the roller coaster, and that’s where you get thrown out of your seat more often than at the front. Did you ever notice that? How much scarier the back of the coaster can be?

I didn’t realize how drunk I was until I woke up at 4:06AM with half of my clothes on, lieing on top of the bed, in a well lit apartment. I think one of the cats (I’m catsitting this week) woke me up. That’s when I got up and regretted my night. And regretted the call. And started to hate myself even more. If you feel disgusted by your own self, won’t everybody else be disgusted with you too?

I need to find my self confidence. I lost it someplace in New York and last night dignity and self respect went out to find it. So in a sense, they weren’t with me as I drank myself into a stupor.

Today is another day. The sun is shining. It’s 51 degrees in New York and I walked to work without a jacket this morning. That’s some positive shit..even in a negative mindspace.

Photo courtesy of Lucence Photographic

Sometimes I still miss Michael Hutchence -he obviously had some “devil’s inside.” Too bad he couldn’t KICK them before he died. (Okay, references will stop for now).

So I’ve made one major change to the site. I’ve added a picture of myself to the masthead because I’ve been told that there needs to be a photo to go along with the ramblings. I know, I know, I post photos of myself all over the damn site, but still, one at the top of the page might not be such a bad idea. Although another friend is pretty adamant that there needs to be more pictures of other hot women on my blog, but I say there are plenty of sites where you can see hot girls giving up more than I do, and you should go there if you want to see more tits and ass. This is my blog dammit. Although the pic I’m posting today is the risque-est one I’ve posted so far. Should this be the masthead?

Anyway, I have bigger news but I don’t know how to share it without sharing too much. I feel like I’m at the doctor, when she asks if you smoke, and you know you smoke pot but don’t know if you should say anything. My doctor recently informed me that I shouldn’t really say “anything” because insurance companies get nervous when they hear that you might smoke, but here I am about to talk about marijuana. First of all, I think I’ve said this already but it needs to be said again, the fast really did wonders for how I feel about my life. In a positive way. Although on Sunday afternoon I smoked some “leafy green stuff” and then my whole perspective about life changed. I became paranoid. Unsure of myself and certain relationships. I’m still not back to the way I was B.S. (before Sunday). So now, now I’ve reached a point that has been a long time coming: I’ve decided to give up smoking anything — at least for a long while. It made me really paranoid. About my life. About my lack of knowledge on certain subjects. About the relationship I’m in right now. And I don’t like how I feel one bit.

I’ve been thinking a lot about weed these past few weeks. I do enjoy it, and that’s part of the problem. But, most of the successful 30 something people I know have given up the smoke. They say they get paranoid, less productive, depressed, whatever, and that smoking makes them do less and less of anything but eat. I think sometimes I use it as a crutch, as an escape, like Laura Wakefield and her Glass Menagerie, only now it’s not working the way it used to. Two days later and I’m still feeling shitty and insecure. It doesn’t matter. I stopped giving myself excuses for why I could continue to indulge, and last night I decided to stop- NO MORE, at least not for a long while. I threw out anything I could smoke with.

I have too many other things I need to do. Like videos. Getting back in shape (I haven’t done yoga in almost two weeks). Writing. Making love - okay, that last one not really, cause you should know by now that I hate that term, but I needed to throw something in there to see if you were paying attention. I need to clear my head.

This is not going to be easy. I like to smoke bowls with friends. I like the smell and feel of pot. But I need to make some big changes, and after the fast I feel like I can do anything. Like I have the will power I need to do anything I want to do. I haven’t felt this way since college, or maybe since I was 24 and I ended my 9 year relationship after years of wanting it to end. It’s a really great feeling. I recommend it to everyone.

For those of you who are close to me, you know that this is a big change. For those of you who aren’t, I’m not dependent on weed, even if this exchange makes me sound like I am, it’s just that I dabble more often than some.

Pot has become my own personal devil, and now, after years of smoking, I’m ready to stand up and fight. I don’t like to get too personal about these sorts of things, and I don’t know if you’ll judge me differently for revealing my weakness, but I wanted to share.

So, what do you think of the picture?

I’m just not that into going out these days. I have to get out of this lame-ass mode because it’s no way for a social girl to start spring, but I must say I think I’ve matured over this winter. Well, maybe it’s not matured, I don’t think there’s anything immature about wanting to go out a lot, but still there’s something big in slowing down. I think I’ve at least changed a lot.

It’s strange to reflect back on where I’m at on Easter, a day that means nothing to me so it’s actually not all that strange really. Maybe I reflect too much, but I think reflection is part of the learning. I can’t believe what a different space I’m in right now. Three and a half months ago, I would have never guessed this is how my life would have turned out. Although my “friend” said it best, it’s like the future had been a carrot dangling in front of me for a really long time, and now I can actually taste the tip. I know I’m being aloof as always, but I’m really happy. The fast made me see things clearly. I understand my life a bit better, and although tonight I tested myself with some sort of jealousy thing, I know that there are things I have to learn to trust in.

But right now I think something’s burning on my stove…

Hold that thought..

Okay..nothing burning..Let’s talk about Jesus. I have these Jesus candles and this Virgin Mary nightlight in my apartment. They most definitely freaked my Jewish mother out. But, I think Jesus is it these days, I mean in terms of fashion. Plus I feel the need to feel the hood. Jesus, I think all the kids love Jesus. Right President Bush?

Anyway…

Thanks to F. for that lovely Easter brunch complete with talk about the two things I know are in these days.

Sex and Spirit.

It’s all coming together…

That’s really all you need to know. But of course I’ll tell you more. I broke it first with the vegetable broth that I was told I was supposed to eat. It was very garlicky..too garlicky…I will not be eating that vegetable broth again.

And then. at 11PM when a group of us couldn’t get into this full moon party that we had so badly wanted to attend, although the drum circle outside the party was just as cool, my partner in fast decided it was time to break his. So we went to the Moonstruck diner, in honor of the full moon, and I ate some more. This time it was matzo ball soup and half a grilled cheese. Even if it wasn’t the best grilled cheese in the world, it sure as hell tasted like it. I had been craving grilled cheese all week.

Then this morning we made french toast. Sort of a ritual to end the week of maple syrup. It was yummy and bready and now I’m thinking I ate too much. I realized I used to have an eating disorder. Not recently, but when I was growing up. When I went from a size 10 to a size 2 over one summer, and I got praise and recognition for my thinness, I never wanted to be “regular” again. It took me years to get over that, although some would argue that I still really haven’t. But still, now that I’ve fasted I can sense old habits dieing hard.

Anyway the bread was yummy. Eating is fun. I’m happy to have reconnected with food.

I’ve learned a lot. When I figure it all out, we’ll talk some more…

I’ve had some really strange and bad dreams over the past few nights. The strangest dream happened the night before the fast. I’m going to try to recount it, but it’s really weird.

I’m eating wonton soup, except that when I eat wonton soup I have a ritual where I pick out the pork in the middle of each wonton. This part is all true…Because while I really like the taste of wonton soup, as a vegetarian, I don’t want to eat the pork that festers in the belly of each individual dumpling. Now this is the where things get strange. So, I’m picking out the pork and I come across one particular wonton in my soup, and this bowl must have grown in size now, because this wonton is enormous, only it’s not in the shape of a wonton. It’s as if the pasta shell has straightened itself out, and it looks like one big long sheet of wonton noodle. I see two bones sticking out of this noodle, the way you’d expect a wishbone to look, in that ‘V’ sort of formation.

I’m immediately disgusted by the site of these two rather large bones protruding from in between the two sheets of noodles. I ask a friend to look in between the wontons and tell me what they see. When we remove the top layer of noodle we find half a human body. The two bones belong to the decomposing corspe of some girl. She’s still intact from head to belly, but her skin is gone below that. In fact after the belly all we see are these two large bones in the shape of a V, as if she’s died spread eagle. I scream, but then notice that she’s wearing these really shiny earrings, and they look really pretty on her ears. I debate if the earrings are worth anything and if I should take them off of her ears before we call the police, but upon closer inspection, I realize that the earrings are of the crappy, junky $2.00 plastic variety so I leave them be.

Superficial, yes, although I still don’t really understand my fascination with her earrings as I’m not one to wear much jewelry, let alone buy it for myself. Regardless, I decide not to take the earrings off of her dead body. Instead I get nauseous that I’ve got this dead body in my soup, and I don’t want to eat anymore. I’m still not sure how I carried my soup from the take out place to my home when there’s the now obvious dead body in the bowl, and I’m not sure how it even got in a bowl, or why I had a bowl big enough to house a dead body.

We call the cops and wonder who she might have been and how she wound up in the soup, and why anyone would have killed her. And then I wake up.

I’ve had some other bad dreams this week having to do with particular people and getting into fights. Things like walking off trains because my lover goes to talk to another woman, and then I try to get back on but the doors have shut. In my angry haste, I’ve left my jacket and cell phone on the train, so I can’t call him up or talk to anyone. I have no contact with the my familiar world, and I’ve deposited myself at a train stop in the middle of nowhere. Or the dream from last night, the one where I was at a fraternity party (?!) and I get in a fight with a boy over a girl. It becomes ugly, I start begging him for forgiveness, he won’t talk to me. I don’t know why I’m at this party anyway, I haven’t been to a frat party since I dated a frat boy in college. Should I be admitting this anyway?

I’m physically starved and emotionally drained. I had another not so good night, complete with pounding headache and stomach cramps.

My tongue is still a little white, which means I should continue my fast, but I think I’m going off it as of dinner tonight. Although dinner tonight will consist of vegetable broth and nothing else, I’m still excited about getting back to the act of eating.

I’ve survived my fast. I stuck it out. I’m still sticking it out. I just might stay away from wonton soup for a while.

So now my fast partner is thinking of not giving up on this fast until Sunday. I know fasting is an individual thing, but I’m still a little bit of a competitive person and I like the idea of sticking this out with someone. I don’t think I’m going to stick this out wih him though. I’m going to end my fast tomorrow, because while I don’t need food, I want it. It’s not like I’m going out right now. What’s the point? I can drink water, or water, and I can watch other people be social and have fun, but when you’re fasting conversation and interaction are, at least for me, kept to a minimum.

The only sucky thing about coming off of this fast is that you are supposed to ease back into eating real food. All I want is a grilled cheese sandwich, extra butter on the white bread, lots of melted cheese pouring forth from over the edges of crust. Okay, now I’ve made myself hungry dammit! Tomorrow I might only be able to eat watermelon and drink orange juice. Yuckity yuck yuck. Still I’m excited about the act of eating.

So, lets talk about other things. Besides fasting. Tomorrow night is a full moon. Those are always fun because the crazy people come out. I can usually tell when it’s going to be a full moon because, like I said, I think the mental hospitals release all of their favorite patients. So tonight, tonight I should try and enjoy the night before the crazy people party. But I don’t really think there’s much I want to do. Last night I was woken up by mice. Thank G-ddess they weren’t in my apartment, where the problem seems to be the cockroaches. At least you can’t hear cockroaches. Mice squeak and make a big fuss when they go through plastic bags.

Enough about mice. Enough about fasting. Enough already.

Enough looks like a funny word though. You know when you write a word too much and then all of a sudden it doesn’t look like a word you recognize…that’s what enough looks like to me..

okay - enough for now.

The Little Engine that Could

Last night wasn’t one of my better evenings. I got off of work, I still can’t believe I’m heading into an office three days a week, around 6:30, was back downtown a bit after 7PM, and then I began my search for this Grade B Maple Syrup. It has these trace vitamins that the Grade A lacks, and although me and “The Object of my Affection” (as referred to in my horoscope last Saturday) were in agreement that Grade A or B doesn’t matter, apparently after a few days of this cleanse it actually does. So anyway, now that I’ve written the longest sentence anyone ever has about the grade of maple syrup, I found it at this great health food store, Urban Roots, on Avenue A between 3rd and 4th Streets, not that this will mean anything to anyone outside of New York, but I have to give props to the first in four health food stores that actually carried this stuff. Whew, that was another long run on!

So, by the time I got home to make my dinner, dinner being the same thing as breakfast and lunch, I had a headache the size of my whole head. It was actually beginning to feel like my head could split in two. I tried to do work. I even finished my second draft of a piece for the first book I actually hope to be published in. I wanted to start working on the script for the first movie I hope to be shooting, but by then, I couldn’t see straight. And that’s when the nauseous kicked in. It’s not fun to be alone, with a huge headache, ready to throw up two days worth of maple syrup, lemon, water and cayenne pepper. There wasn’t much I could do. I masturbated, which was actually the only thing that made me feel better, but once that was over, I was back to focusing on the fact that my head was hurting, and that I couldn’t take medicine, and I still wanted to puke.

I got into bed. It was a little past 9PM, which is really early for a girl who knows that “early to bed, early to rise” is the way her body functions. I was asleep by 9:45. I woke up for a couple of pee breaks, and I checked the clock at 4:04AM, but I did manage to stay in bed until my alarm went off at 7:30 this morning. I was pleasantly surprised to learn that my headache was gone, and the vomitis feeling had subsided.

Well, it subsided until I tried to drink what TMWHDTMCB *see yesterday’s blog to understand what that means - told me to drink in the morning to clean out my ass. Which, by the way, I never like to talk about what comes out of my ass, but today, today I must make an exception. Anyway, he told me to drink a 20oz glass of water mixed with 2 tablespoons of non-iodized kosher salt and to give myself at least an hour before I did anything else. I had no idea what to expect.

Let’s just say as I was sitting on the bus heading uptown to the office I couldn’t help but think “if these people on the bus only knew what came out of my ass this morning…” My new favorite term is anal discharge. I won’t go into more detail, but cleansing can be really cleansing, and surprisingly exciting! You will have no idea what to expect, unless of course you’re willing to try this concoction yourself. After drinking a cup full of salt I again felt nauseous. But by 10AM this morning I was feeling fine and dandy.

I feel like maybe I’ve gotten over some hump. Feeling as shitty as I did last night, I’m surprised by how much energy I actually have today. It’s quite refreshing really. To not have to eat to be able to function. I don’t think I’ve lost a damn pound though, and this, this I cannot understand.

Still..two and a half more days on this fast. I think I can..I think I can…

Is it bad to tease yourself?

So, I’m halfway done with the second day. Anyone I physically spoke to last night is telling me I’m crazy for fasting. Yes, I’m crazy people - didn’t you know this already? Still, I don’t think fasting makes me any crazier. In fact it might just do the opposite. Let’s revisit that thought at the end of the week.

My plan is to last until Friday. If I have to stop before that I will, even though I know how headstrong I can be when I get into situations like this. I remember back in college, I studied for a semester in Australia and attempted to climb Ayers Rock. It’s this controversial and spiritual rock in the middle of the country, and there are lots of people who wish you wouldn’t climb it. Therefore, they make the climb challenging. Everyone I knew was going to climb, and I started to ascend with them. I quit halfway up because the rest of the climb looked more difficult, and I turned around and headed back down. I knew this might be a once in a lifetime opportunity, and that I couldn’t live with myself as a quitter, so the next morning, while all of my friends were asleep, I climbed the rock again. This time to the top. I might be the one of the only people who can actually say they climbed Ayers Rock 1.5 times.

So, today, as the day wears on, I feel less and less like I’m doing the wrong thing by fasting. I am going to make it til Friday, although I’m realizing there are things I should add to the fast, like senna tea and uniodized sea salt, just to actually expel the toxins out of my body. I have a headache that I hope just goes away on its own, but other than that my energy is the same as yesterday. In fact, this boy I work with, I’ll call him “the boy who has done the master cleansing before” or TBWHDTMCB explained to me that not only did he do this for ten days, but he worked out for two hours every day while drinking said concoction. That to me is incredible, as the boy I’m now doing this with is suggesting that I shouldn’t even walk the three miles to work. TBWHDTMCB says that if you do this right you have enough energy to do anything. TBWHDTMCB also says that I’m not making my drink dark enough or putting enough cayenne pepper in my mix. I think he is more hardcore than most, but today TBWHDTMCB is my god and I will do as he says.

The office thinks my energy is draining. I think it’s just from being in an office. Florescent lights can’t be good for the skin, let alone for the soul.

Let’s talk about something else. Something more *interesting
***although that is in and of itself a matter of opinion***
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From the NY Times Op-ed section today (M. Dowd should get credit as I’ve just copied and pasted this from her piece):

“Research published last week in the journal Nature reveals that women are genetically more complex than scientists ever imagined, while men remain the simple creatures they appear.”

“Alas,” said one of the authors of the study, the Duke University genome expert Huntington Willard, “genetically speaking, if you’ve met one man, you’ve met them all. We are, I hate to say it, predictable. You can’t say that about women. Men and women are farther apart than we ever knew. It’s not Mars or Venus. It’s Mars or Venus, Pluto, Jupiter and who knows what other planets.”

“We poor men only have 45 chromosomes to do our work with because our 46th is the pathetic Y that has only a few genes which operate below the waist and above the knees,” Dr. Willard observed. “In contrast, we now know that women have the full 46 chromosomes that they’re getting work from and the 46th is a second X that is working at levels greater than we knew.”
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While that might explain a lot, it’s still annoying to be a woman who loves men and can’t stand that they don’t think enough like me. Not that I don’t love women too, but not usually in the sort of way I like boys. Still, this makes me question just how much easier life might be as a lesbian. Although, knowing the lesbians that I know, that might not be the case at all…Maybe it’s good that boys are so simple. It’s just that I never meet the simple ones…

Not the kind of liquids I’ll be having this week.

Happy First Day of Spring!!!
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This was my horoscope on Saturday:

If you were hoping for an easy weekend, you might as well forget it because with the sun aspecting Mars, planet of ego and energy, something will spark your interest, and if anything, you will find yourself working harder than ever. That applies to relationships, too: You will go anywhere and do anything to impress the object of your affection.
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The “object of my affection” happened to be at my place when I decided to check out what was in store for me. “What are you going to do to impress me?” he asked. I couldn’t think of anything.

And I haven’t done anything to impress him, well, at least not anything in the past week, but I am doing something that I never, in a million years, thought I would do, and it is because of him.

We have this very spiritual relationship. For fear of sounding like a bigger kook than I already am, I don’t want to go into more detail right now, but this is the first relationship that I’ve had in a long while that hasn’t been based around the sex. And that’s amazing. So last night while he was meditating and looking for answers to other things in his life, he realized that he needed to “wash” out his body, to fast, to do what he calls a master cleansing, and he decided that now was the perfect time to do it.

I spent the night with him last night, and upon my arrival he sat me down and started to tell me about this fast. It would be for five days, ending the night of Good Friday, and it would consist of drinking a concotion of Water, Grade B Maple Syrup (although we only found Grade A), Lemon, and Cayenne Pepper. He had done this before and found the results to be quiet clarifying.

I didn’t think twice about what he was doing, except to say that I knew that this would make our communication difficult over the course of the week. Think about it, if you’re eating and someone else is not, it’s got to be difficult to relate to them.

And then he asked…”Would you fast with me?” I thought about it for less than 30 seconds. Why not? What did I have to lose? It would help me clear my own head and I needed something to help me get back on track. Plus, it was something that even if we didn’t do together, it would keep us connected all week. And maybe, although this isn’t the reason you should fast, I would lose a couple of those winter pounds. Still, I’m not trying to impress him.

SO…I’m fasting. I’ve been drinking this master cleanser all morning and peeing quite often. Tonight I’m going to see a Broadway Show and I hope I can sit through the first act without leaking on the seat..or trying to eat the hand of the person next to me, whichever should happen first. I realize part of the reason I’m doing this now is to impress myself.

I’m going to try to fast this whole week, until Friday, when we’ll break at some point. I’m also working a regular schedule, so this should be interesting. I think I can do it, it’s been a long time since I’ve practiced such extreme will power.
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Now, onto other things…

I must comment briefly on this since I feel close to the situation at Playgirl.

I don’t think the Editor in Chief was fired for her political views, in fact you can’t be fired for your political views. I want to say more, but I actually really like Michele as a person and I really like Playgirl and the people that are still employed there…so I’m not going to comment further. Now stop asking…

Still, I wish Michele hadn’t written this letter:

Mon Mar 21 2005 10:09:48 ET

**Exclusive**

PLAYGIRL editor-in-chief Michele Zipp has been stripped of her duties after she revealed how she voted Republican in the 2004 election. Zipp, in an e-mail, claims she was fired after an onslaught of liberal backlash.

“Hello Drudge,
“After your coverage of my article about coming out and voting Republican, I did receive many letters of support from fellow Republican voters, but it was not without repercussions. Criticism from the liberal left ensued. A few days after the onslaught of liberal backlash, I was released from my duties at Playgirl magazine.

“After underlings expressed their disinterest of working for an outed Republican editor, I have a strong suspicion that my position was no longer valued by Playgirl executives. I also received a phone call from a leading official from Playgirl magazine, in which he stated with a laugh, “I wouldn’t have hired you if I knew you were a Republican. I just wanted to let you know of the fear the liberal left has about a woman with power possessing Republican views.”
Developing…

BTW: Did he ever come out of any closets? Just curious…