I miss a lot of things about New York. Most of them food, friends and family related. The food component is fairly easy to fix. If we can't find it, we make it. The friends and family I miss can't be replaced, but calling (have free long distance) and writing (this blog, email, Face Book) helps a great deal.
But what of the the special sparkle only a gay boyfriend can spread upon your path? There isn't really a replacement for that. I miss the drama filled, mimosa soaked brunches we shared on the Lower East Side. There's no equivalent for that kind of joy and comfort. I have been forced to actively seek new gay boyfriends. The old ones have no replacements. Replacements for someone who at a moments notice agrees to sing at your wedding is a tall order.
Finding new gay boyfriends is no easy task given my current location. Distinguishing straight Italian boys from gay boys has not been easy. Italian men don't have the natural American aggressive stance. They are disturbingly comfortable with kissing each other on the cheek in public, and personal space is non existent by New York standards. Don't ask how I know but, most of them wear briefs. It's long story that involves a camping trip with Ryan a few weeks after I got here. I was the only girl and 25 of his friends had to change their clothes in the woods. I only pretended not to look.
I think I may be on the right track with a lovely chap at the office. I have been courting him for obvious reasons. He watches Glee and is in the upcoming Godspell production at the Post Theater.
