Twenty-two behind me and embarking on my 23rd.  Some young folks think it’s all downhill after 21 because there is so little in life to look forward to.  While I understand there are few life-markers of a societal norm after 21, I don’t exactly agree with the notion that there’s nothing to look forward after 2 decades and a year.  After all, wasn’t it Ladytron that insisted “We only want you when you’re 17 . . . ” If that was the case, I bit the popularity bullet before I even started BCO.  Had certainly lost it by the inception of Brent Corrigan Inc – and will without a doubt fall flat on my butt on the coming development of my new online destination – all of course, if it were true that they only wanted me when I was 17.

Hold on and let me stand back to grasp a better perspective.  That last bit was crazy talk and I’ve got to get a better grip.

Lets start with Halloween and the birthday party.

Friday was like running a marathon.  Up at practically the crack of dawn; I didn’t get an adequate break until I popped that first bottle of champagne for the evening.  Despite a lot of last minute arrangements Rocket, the boyfriend and I managed to pull everything together with the assistance of a few friendly helpers.  The main setback of the evening was not soaking the airbrush machine in alcohol ahead of time to loosen up the clog.  I was planning to use it to add the finishing touches on my boyfriend’s costume.  He was going to be my horse and I was going to be a vampire calvaryman.

The boyfriend refused to wear his costume because he was worried it would be too plain and people wouldn’t get that he was actually supposed to be a horse – not just a shirtless beefcake of a man wearing a horsehead mask.  Which is basically what he became (once I had persuaded him to wear the mask after he consumed one or two glasses of vodka). With or without the airbrushing he was a hit.

I would estimate around 50-100 people showed up Friday night. Quite honestly, I can’t remember much after 1 AM and before that I . . . was focusing quite intently on the Moet and Veuve Clicquot in my glass. A champagne high is one of my favorite. It’s fun and bubbly and you don’t get plastered too quickly. Although, I can’t remember the last time I have been as intoxicated as I was on Friday, October 30th.  But it wasn’t a sloppy drunk.  At least I don’t remember it to be.  I don’t know, I guess I’m not the best authority on the matter.

Champagne is fine and good, but I later switched to Pinot Nior (which went really well with the costume!) and I think that’s when I scheduled my own hangover for the next day.  It was either then, or when I had that one or two Jaeger Bombs.  I guess that’s what turning 23 is like.

A highlight of the evening was when I came out to my neighbor that lives below me.  I think that was most likely the champagne talking.  By coming out, I mean about what I do for a living of course.  She asked about the awards on my upper mantle above my fireplace; in the dark you can’t read the labels.  I started with, “Well, I’m a filmmaker”.  I followed that up with “And by that I mean I make pornos”.  I don’t normally use that word porno. Maybe that was the Jaeger talking.  It’s probably a good thing I’ve completely misplaced the memory of her response.  But she didn’t leave the party and the next day she seemed a little more friendly toward my boyfriend and me.

Saturday we cleaned up the flat.  It wasn’t that bad off.  Most of the afternoon I was thinking seriously about staying in for Halloween night.  Friday was a big evening and I was still nursing a headache and hating my one-year-older-self for not being wise enough to avoid mixing my toxins.  As night fell I carved my pumpkin and handed out candy to trick-or-treaters.  I haven’t done that since I moved to San Diego and it was starting to feel like some of my life-long Halloween traditions were coming back to me.  On a whim I invited my mother out with the boyfriend and me to the Normal Street Fair and then the gay clubs for the evening.  My mom is a free spirit and it’s no secret.  She came over at 8 PM and together we got ready for the evening.

Having two of us in the house makes it impossible to get out of the door in a timely manner.  I warned the boyfriend before she arrived: “You’re going to see a lot of me in my mom and it’s not going to be only good things ”.  He told me I didn’t have to make excuses for my family and that it didn’t matter.  He said he would love me no matter what.

After another hour or so of fiddling with the damn airbrush compressor and wand I finally managed to get Paul to let me try painting on with a brush his design for the horse costume.  Reluctantly he allowed. It turned out amazingly and he was able to enjoy the Halloween festivities in a full costume and not just a horsehead mask.

I had one of these masks growing up.  Except mine was the colt, which has become the symbol mascot for the Cult of the Horse Mask.  Tom Green has sort of become their unofficial spokesman for the organization.

Finally when the three of us managed to squeeze out the door (we probably should have tried one at a time) we were met with the downstairs neighbors.  The six of us exchanged photos and oogled each others’ costumes.  This was clearly a bonding experience for all of us.  I feel much closer to the women that live downstairs now.

Late as we were, the Normal Street Fair was over by the time we reached Hillcrest.  Tons of costumes and characters flooded the streets and migrated to their respective locations for an evening of spirits and good cheer.  I don’t normally go to Universal (the newest addition to the club circuit here in San Diego). However, they were having a Fang Bang (I guess that’s like, a vampire party?) and I figured I would be at home there.  Paul and I wanted to do the costume contest. What can I say? I’m a sucker for the stage.

The club was packed and very well decorated.  I have to give them mad props for using . . . really great props.  They’re staff was attractive and wore some of the best costumes I saw all evening.  They had hot male and female dancers (but failed to represent the twink/twunk genre).  All muscle daddy’s and busty young women from what I could tell.

Paul and I signed up separately as individuals and as a group.  When they brought up the contestants they did not call either of us.  Then, when we were called to the stage as a group my name was completely butchered and they mocked us.  Worse still, when Paul attempted to correct their mistake, they were so loud and disrespectful that they misunderstood him and disqualified us.  The truly embarrassing part was how the host degraded us on the microphone in front of everyone.  We had asked a large group of our friends to  come cheer us on and they sat below and watched as the host mocked us.

On our way out Paul requested to speak with the club manager, whom was very gracious and understanding.  I’m sure it wasn’t very easy for him since we were both so excited (which is a nice way of putting it).  He agreed it was unfair treatment via the host and offered to credit us back our cover charges in a gesture of goodwill.  It’s not like we were shaking him down or anything. But when the most expensive club in town lures you to pay a large cover in the hopes of entering a costume contest but fails to fairly deliver; things should be straightened out.

My mom told me she had more fun than she’s had in a really long time that evening.  She seemed to fit in really well.  I think Universal was a good choice for her because the crowd tends to be very mixed with straight and gay people (all different ages as well).  A couple times she ventured off on her own and I always found her again: laughing and talking up a storm with complete strangers.

I thoroughly enjoyed myself and it will probably stand as my favorite birthday weekend memory in my adult life. I had some amazing ones growing up.  I am extremely lucky to have people around me to share these experiences with.  More and more I reflected on this as Sunday drew closer.

Sunday afternoon I attended a memorial service for a friend of mine.  A little over a week ago he was killed in a car accident.  Nick and I weren’t close.  He was fixture in the lives of one of my old Cobra colleagues and one of my models from BCO.  I loved his energy!  He was one of the most polite, considerate young people I have ever known.  When someone like Nick is taken from our lives our only regret we are left with is why we didn’t get to know them more.  I learned so much about him while attending the Memorial Service.

The only reason why I am sharing this next piece of information is because I know a lot of young people read this blog.  I don’t want draw very much attention to that; you know who you are.  Listen, growing up we all experience things at different stages in our lives.  We all make our own personal mistakes.  One all-too-common mistake is drinking and driving.  No one can pretend they are not aware of the dangers in drinking and driving!  Please do not drink and drive.  The consequences are simply not worth staying on someone’s couch for the evening or finding a safe place to have your party.  Wear your seat belt every time!  Don’t wait to put yourself in a hospital or bury one of your friends to take it seriously, please.  We love you Nick and I hope the Universe has found a better place for you.

The weekend was a beautiful one full of celebration, lamentation and reflection.  Friends were made; one will be missed. Family was a fixture.  Halloween 2009 is one for the books and I’m thankful to share it with you.

Your Friend and Lover,
Brent Corrigan

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