New Age, no age.
The upwards-of-30 crowd seems to be as mad for me as t(w)eenage girls, closeted gays, and sexually repressed housewives are for Edward Cullen.
Sid36 wants to take me for a ride – on his motorcycle. The pouch of gold at the end of my foray into celebrating St. Patty’s Day in a raucous way is playing it cool, but the texts are still coming. Even my first and most dapper dabble into this age bracket has come back into my inbox, 
’s in tow.
There was a point during my first year in Los Angeles in which I believed the apparent absence of appreciation by anyone else born during the Reagan administration implied a lack of physical desirability. I felt like the awkward girl in (gay high) school, the one whom the boys wouldn’t regret overlooking until they grew up and realized intelligence is sexy and nerds make the best people. Increased involvement with more of my homosexual peers and West Hollywood assmates has proven that to be a bit of a blanket statement, a reaction to the plague of low self-esteem for which we ourselves are almost solely responsible. No longer riddled with social small pox, blinded by the resulting corneal ulceration that is insecurity, I also see that, as my friend Megan recently texted me, “Gah, older men [really] r so sexy!!”
Even more alluring, though, is an ageless spirit. You’re only as young as you feel, not who you feel up. Despite the air of vapidity and the plasticine face perceived by many non-residents, an eternally youthful exterior is not what most Los Angelenos are after so much as enough time to fulfill our dreams.
older gentlemen DO have a certain allure, lol. but most of the ones in NY just wanna bone. LoL.
Hippie Homo. I love it.