Sex, Drugs, and MySpace

The deadline for my first column for FLAVALIFE Magazine was approaching fast. As is my habit, I got down-right personal. Here's a piece, read the full article coming in the Jan/Feb issue. (the cover left is a back issue) ~~

I broke up with my boyfriend on MySpace. Don’t laugh. It’s not funny.

Since its inception in July 2003, MySpace has infected the planet like a virus. I tried to be above it. I did. But everyone from Judge Mathis to Ms. Cleo has a page with all the bells and whistles and do-dads. I hate the bandwagon. It’s so common. And since I was a little knock-kneed boy running from bullies (who always seemed hell-bent on breaking my glasses) I’ve known I was hardly common.

Yeah. I was special, damnit. That’s why everyone wanted to kick my ass.

Warp to present—I set up a MySpace page (okay, so I am a little common). I set up a tasteful one with a slide-show to represent my life and passions in cyberspace. My boyfriend did also, except on his page I was nowhere to be seen. Okay, it seems like a little thing. But my absence on his MySpace was an insult to my page, where he’s heavily featured. My absence through the tons of pictures he displayed told me where I was on the list of his life’s passions. Sure, if I mentioned it, he’d put one up. But how cool is it to be an afterthought? Yeah. Little things mean a great deal.

So I flipped out. He’d been fuckin’ up anyway and this was the last straw. Since we weren’t speaking—our own little Cold War on 5th Street—I wrote a note and left it on his offending, not-giving-me-my-just-props page:

‘Your Page speaks volumes to me …
your absence spoke even more.
It’s over, boy. Fly.’

No one likes a public display of dirty draws, but in my defense, I can be a real asshole when motivated. A day later he deleted it without a word slicing the gloom between us.... ~~~
Full article coming in the Jan/Feb issue of FlavaLife ....