eryc perez de tagle

Him: I’ve been following your blog for awhile now, not only because I enjoy reading it, but because I think I’ve projected a fantasy onto you and admire you for everything I am not – handsome, talented, comfortable with their own body, freely pursuing their passion. I admire someone who is not afraid to put themselves out there – mentally and physically (in your case, literally, via photos). Do you have any advice for someone that has pretty low self esteem on how to get a shred of that? Also, any workout tips would be appreciated.

– clue do

Me: Hey Clue.

I need you to listen to me for a second, okay? Are you listening?

You’re beautiful.

I know you are. I’ve never seen you or met you but I know you’re beautiful. You might not be everyone’s type, but trust me- there are people in your life who already stand in awe of you.  I know that. You’re unique and perfect and beautiful.

And I know how you can become more beautiful:

Identify your passion, and pursue it.

Stop listening to the reasons why you can’t succeed. That critical inner voice that says you can’t do it? That voice is the devil. It’s the closest thing to pure evil on this planet.

Don’t compare yourself to other people.

Most people who feel inadequate have a little mental list of people who have done more, achieved more, are better looking, more talented, or deserve more than they do. Keep things in perspective. Even huge movie stars have a list of artists they think they’ll never measure up to.

(In Anna Paquin’s case, that list must be very, very long.)

(we can still see your vagina, anna)

Realize that everyone’s just faking it.

All these photos you see of me running around my kitchen with cute boys in the gorgeous late afternoon light? Carefully staged. I’m a guy who constantly doubts himself, too. I’m faking it as much as Meryl Streep, Barack Obama, or your mailman. We’re all faking it. But if you start behaving like someone who believes in themselves, eventually you trick yourself into having moments where you actually do believe in yourself. Then after a few years, you forget why you were terrible in the first place.


There’s not much we can do to alter our circumstances, besides working. Some people were born rich, good looking, unnaturally talented. Good for them. The rest of us have to work at it. Identify the thing you love, or are passionate about, and go for it. Don’t expect to master it overnight. Just take the slow steps you need to take for your passion to flower. Work toward goals. Set attainable ones. When you attain them, set loftier ones.

You might not wind up getting what you want, but I guarantee – the very act of pursuing a goal will take you places that astound you. You’ll never believe how much good fortune you have if you work every day toward a simple goal.

I never met anyone who was ‘lucky’ that didn’t work their ass off.

Oh, also – if you want to be more ‘cut’ then lift weights. Free weights. Not machines. Aim for five days a week, and be happy when you go four days. Get mad if you’re only doing three. If you want to slim down, then do cardio. Run outside, or swim. Again, try five days a week.

Aw. Clue. You’re adorable. I want to find a way to end this post where I call you a Jerk, but I just like you too much to do that.


See? I did it anyway. Sorry.


photos by tri vo

Me:  Really?  What’s that like?

Him:  It’s super boring.  A lot of filing permits.  Tons of paperwork.

Me:  That’s not what I imagine.

Him:  I know.  Everyone thinks there’s all this designing and drawing and overseeing a workforce, but it’s 90% paperwork.

Me:  Even so that’s a sexy profession.  Architect.

Him:  Ha…  Thanks.  So what do you do?

Me:  Oh boy.

Him:  What?

Me:  This is where it usually goes horribly wrong.

Him:  What?  Shut up.  What do you do for a living?

Me:  I freelance.

Him:  Doing what, dummy?

Me:  I do comedy gigs, and I teach improv, and I do freelance writing.

Him:  Oh my God, that’s so cool.

Me:  What?

Him:  I love comedy.  I think that’s so cool.

Me:  No you don’t.

Him:  I don’t?

Me:  No.  People usually get defensive and annoyed when I tell them I’m a comic.

Him:  Really? 

Me:  Eh.  I’ve met a lot of jerk-o’s.

Him:  Well, I think it’s cool.

Me:  Well I think you’re cool Mister Architect.

Him:  Thanks… 


Him:  Is the entertainment business difficult?

Me:  Yeah.  I guess it is, kind of.

Him: You have to have all that talent.

Me:  Hahahahahahaha!

Him:  What?

Me:  I dunno.  That struck me as funny.

Him: What did?

Me:  You don’t need talent to succeed in showbiz.

Him:  Hahaha, what are you talking about?  Of course you do!

Me:  Not in my experience.  I mean, don’t get me wrong, talent helps, and it always seems to surprise people when someone has it.  But, I wouldn’t say you need it to be in showbiz.

Him:  You’re joking.

Me:  Not at all.

Him:  Well what do you need?

Me:  Tenacity.  Drive.  Ambition.

Him:  Really?  You don’t need talent?

Me:  Look at Anna Paquin.

Him:  Stop!  I love True Blood.

Me:  Sure, but can you say that she’s talented?

Him:  Stop.  She’s likable.

Me:  Well that’s different than talent.  That helps a lot.  So does being good at politics.  Showing up on time.  Cultivating the image of being a reliable, hard worker.  Not being crazy.  That helps too.

Him:  Interesting.  What’s the most important thing an artist can have?

Me:  Hm….


Me:  Delusions.

Him:  WHAT??

Me:  That’s the most important thing an artist can have.  That and tenacity.

Him: Explain.

Me:  How are you going to be a movie star without having the crazy delusion that you could somehow be a movie star?

Him:  Hm…  that does make sense, actually…

Me:  How are you going to write an opera, without the delusional belief that you could move people with your music?

Him:  But isn’t passion something that wells up inside you?  Isn’t that what great artists do?  Get fired up and inspired and let out all their passions?

Me:  I guess so, but doesn’t it sound delusional that someone else might take notice?  Also, that kind of inspiration happens every once in a while, but otherwise it’s usually just hard work.  Plugging away, day after day.  Tenacity.

Him:  Hm.  

Me:  What?

Him:  We’ve both got the same point of view, then, about our respective professions…

Me:  Which is what?

Him:  That it’s 90% paper work.

Me:  Hahaha!  Yeah I guess we do.

Him:  Can I buy you another drink?


Me:  Yeah.  Yeah, I think you can.

Midwestern Visit

photo by eryc perez de tagle

My life is strange.

Just putting that out there.

I tend to get contacted by Gay people these days.  Gays that I don’t know.

Gays from strange lands, like Iowa.

That’s Huy.

He’s a college student in Des Moines.

He studies Pharmacology.

That means I get free drugs, right??

Wrong.  Apparently Huy has a list of these things called eth-ics (am I pronouncing that right?) that preclude him from giving away drugs to pie men.  Apparently, you need to have a reason to take pharmacy drugs?

News to me…

For future reference, my favorite is Ambien, but I had to tell my doctor to not prescribe it anymore, because I have a tendency to take it every night if i have it…

Then I get responses to emails that I don’t remember having sent.

Once, I got a letter from a San Fransisco adoption agency thanking me for my interest and asking me about my finances.

Apparently my baby clock is ticking, especially when I am blacked out on Ambien.

Look at how confident he looks.

You’ll never believe this, but when he arrived, late afternoon, he was trembling.

I hugged him hello and he shook.  I held him close to me for a few minutes and said kind, comforting things.  Then I stole his credit card from his wallet.

(I was out of toilet paper that day)

Just kidding.  I didn’t say anything comforting.  Who wants to go shopping??

Just kidding.  I said nice stuff about how brave he was to contact me, and volunteer for my bizarre art project.

He called me a role model and said that he respected my ideas about queer liberation, and brotherhood – which made me totes nervous, because most of the time it’s my job to act like an idiot in a room full of drunk people (comedy).

I told him he is very attractive.

He seemed surprised, but thanked me and returned the compliment.  Some lie about how salt and pepper stubble is super hot.

He said he wasn’t used to getting a lot of compliments from strangers.

I said that was a shame, because he’s clearly a sexwad.

He wondered aloud what a sexwad is, and I changed the subject.

We switched aprons at a certain point in the baking process.

I wanted to see if I look good in yellow (nope), and I was having identity confusion.

He showed up with a pair of fake glasses, just like mine.

Doesn’t that just kill you, a little, inside?

It does me.  It kills me.  In a good way.

It rips my heart out.

What a sweet pea.

We spent some time together after the pie making.

He came to Thin Skin Jonny: Farewell Reunion Tour at UCB theater.  He also saw the Made Up Musical at the Magnet.  We took a walk from Manhattan to Brooklyn, over the Williamsburg bridge.  He was super sweet.

He’s totally determined to succeed in the world of pharmacy.

I told him that success in any field is 80% determination and 20% being a nice guy.

He contradicted me and said that you also need talent.

I laughed and laughed and laughed and said, no, you don’t need talent.

Talent…  That’s a good one!

Who knew he was a comic, too?

The pie we made was a chocolate mousse with a lemon custard on top.

Looks good, huh?

It was decent, but not entirely successful.  I used a wonky custard recipe that leaves out milk from the mix.  Also, I over zested the lemon, and it was waaaaay tart.

I’ll try this out again, at some point.

Huy.  You’re a beautiful, intelligent, talented young man.  You’re kind and you listen.

I loved meeting you.  You’re welcome in my kitchen any time.  Please keep me informed about your successes.

Anna Paquin, let’s not make this awkward.

I’m a comic and I make jokes.

Take it with a grain of salt and count your considerable ducats.

I’ll take it all back when you come out with your first pop album.  Pleeeeeeease record a pop album??

Until then I’ll try to behave myself and not be such a jerk.


(i already told you – out of toilet paper that day)