My Social Life Is More Unfabulous

I just got back from the Los Angeles premiere of The Mostly Unfabulous Social Life of Ethan Green. I was driving down La Brea the other day when I happened to notice the movie poster at the Regent Showcase Theater. I've known about the Ethan Green comic by Eric Orner for years. It's a funny look at the foibles and follies of the title character's quest for love while casting a critical eye on gay politics and culture. The movie is a live-action version of the strip.

The next day at work, I tracked down the official web site and was pleased to find I hadn't missed seeing it. While I was at it, I cruised over to the web site for the comic strip. (It's not as if I was getting a lot of work done anyway.) There's an e-mail link for the creator Eric Orner, so I decided to send him a line. I congratulated him on the movie and told him that I'd certainly be going. I also mentioned that I once waited on him a few years ago when I was the manager at Talking Book World. I was tickled when I received a reply, and even more so when he offered to put me on his guest list. I'd e-mailed him from my "Michael St. John" account, and it attaches the links to my blogs in every message. So when he sent me a second e-mail saying that he'd read some of my blog and that I wrote "fluidly and intelligently and with a lot of humanity," naturally I was thrilled.

Before I'd received Eric's e-mail, I had called and left a message for massage boy, inviting him to go to the film with me. So when I replied to Eric's message, I told him I couldn't take him up on his generous offer, in addition to thanking him and telling him how kind he was. It would have been rude of me to try to get another invite for my friend, and it would have been even ruder to call my friend and say, "Fuck you, I got a better offer." As it turned out, the masseur was working and couldn't go. So I was able to RSVP and get put on Eric Orner's guest list.

I never go out, let alone get a special invite to a premier. So I went the whole nine yards. I got my hair cut, got the car washed, ironed this shirt I stole from a fuck buddy over a decade ago, etc. I don't know what I was expecting. (Actually, that's a lie.) So I get there, and I am indeed on the guest list. I walk in the theater and almost pass out from the smell of popcorn. I'm on Day 5 of this stupid Master Cleanse, and I'm practically feral with ravenous hunger. (By the way, all of those stupid, bloody hippies who testify to this fast all over the Internet and claim that you don't feel hungry are lying!) I bought a $3 bottle of water and then found a seat. The place was packed with cute gay boys, but I ended up sandwiched between two, not-exactly-gorgeous het guys, surrounded by their women. C'est la vie.

The movie itself was a lot of fun. There were, of course, a lot of hot bodies on the screen. (This is a Hollywood movie after all, and a gay one at that.) I saw a lot of myself in the character of Ethan Green, particularly when he was distraught and kept crying to his long-suffering lesbian friend about how he's "self-destructive." That could of been me and my best friend from college Julie.

After the film, I managed to come across Eric Orner outside the theater, and he chatted with me for a few moments. He was standing with a couple of friends, and I was feeling a bit awkward. I can be clever and charming, just never when I want to be. For example, I did talk to my ex- on the phone last night, and he did tell me to tell Eric that he thought he was cute. Unfortunately, when I delivered this little conversational gem, it came out sounding rather foolish. Oh well, I suppose I can always fall back on my looks. Regardless, Eric was extremely gracious to me. He was complimentary and supportive of my writing, which I thought was touching. Then I took my leave. He said I should continue to e-mail him, and I plan to. He seems like a great guy and an interesting person.

As much as enjoyed going out and seeing the movie and meeting the strip's creator, I was feeling quite low as I drove home. Whenever I'm at a "gay" function or place, I always feel like such an outsider..."three parts dead, an alien, a yokel in Athens. He had no business here." (E.M. Forster, Maurice) I never feel as if I fit in anywhere. It's bad enough feeling alienated from "normal" society; it's even worse when you don't feel you belong with those who are "your people." I dunno, it's just one of the things that makes me so goofy. Plus it was kind of a let down to go from a rare social outing back to my grotty little apartment. (I seriously need to clean this place up!) It took all of my will power not to succumb to disgust and indulge one of my vices. I really wanted a drink (or six). Or a cigarette. Or some pills. Or even some fucking food! Fortunately, I distracted myself by writing this and have things much more in perspective now.

A Little Bit of Politics

In the movie, the character of Ethan says that he thinks commitment ceremonies are "lame." I couldn't agree more. I think marriage and weddings are fabulous! But I hate this whole "separate but equal" doublespeak for homosexual unions. If you're getting married, then call it a marriage. If you're not committed enough to use the word, then don't get married! The only thing that bugs me more is the term "life partner." If you're dating, you're each other's boyfriend or girlfriend. If you get engaged, you're each other's fiancé. If you have a wedding, you're each other's husband or wife. Simple as that.

"I dunno, I just think fags should shack up."
—Scott Thompson, Kids in the Hall