I'm bored...

I don't want to work today and don't think I should have to, me being gay and it being Halloween. If you aren't going to give your faggy (and dykey) employees time off for Pride, than you should give them time off for Halloween, right?

Some folks at work dressed up and I'm liking them more already just for it. That bothers me. I shouldn't be liking them at all. There's a killer bee, a minnie mouse, a Fidel Castro (of course). There's also a bunch of stuffy lawyers that can't be bothered to put on a silly t-shirt.

This Halloween, this is what I'm thinking:

I hope I never reach an age where I don't dress up for Halloween. My dad is 64 years old and he still has several costumes each year. I hope I am that cool when I'm his age.

If you can't wear a costume on Halloween, don't leave your house. I don't want to see your sorry ass walking up and down Santa Monica Boulevard so you can check out all the "freaks."

I might do a dramatic job change in the coming months. I don't know. It'd be huge and totally change everything in my life, but I don't know about a future with it. Am I letting that "mythical future" get in the way of happiness?

Based on yesterday's anouncement, I'm thinking of changing my top friends on myspace. I don't want to hurt "anyone" but it seems silly to keep him in the top friends now, or at least as high up as he is. But my top friends really aren't ranked. They're just the people I talk to the most often and I do it so its easy to find their pages.

How do you stay friends with someone after seeing them naked... like that? I don't know. I've never done it. I'm kind of crappy at staying in touch anyway because I hate the telephone, so really, is the ball in his court?

There are a lot of people that I wanted to "stay friends" with after our circumstances changed -- most often after changing jobs -- but I so rarely do. Maybe I should make a point of getting touch with Tina, Doug, Jan, Troy, Chris, Afnahn, Patrick, or Brooke (not that one!).

At church on Sunday, the pastor suggested a little November/Thanksgiving ritual that he likes. Each day, he tells one person in his life how thankful he is for them and what they offer. I think I want to do that this year. Will you get called?

Gosh, I wonder when I'll have sex again? Hopefully not another 3 year dry spell. It was so much easier when you knew where it was coming from.

Is it weird that I swing straight to sex after church? I am Catholic after all, I guess unrelenting emphasis on sex is as appropriate for us papists as it is for Congressional Republicans.

Oh, and Happy Halloween! Make it spooky!

74 posts later.

It was 74 posts ago when I slipped in this little nugget: "I also met a gay, who was in my friend Amelia's class."

That night, we had a date. I didn't tell you that. It's wasn't until 7 weeks later when I mentioned him again. That was a wonderful 7 weeks. Just under a month later, he made another appearance. He called me from his ship. This fellow was really special to me. If you read the emails he sent from sea, or heard our calls, you would think he felt the same way.

He came home unexpectantly early in September. That was wonderful. We had time for our relationship to blossom. To grow. We spent a lot of time together. Back while he was gone, I made what I thought was an insignificant observation: I hate being vulnerable.

You know what? I really do. My lovelife has been entirely retarded (Suzanne: I mean that in the technical definition of the word, not the too-common insult that flows from my pie hole) because I hate the idea of being weak. With this boy, I let it happen. I surrendered.

Shit, 74 posts later and I learned my lesson. I got dumped last week. Sorry for waiting a week to tell you. I alluded to it a little. It was a crumby week. I let you guys know that, too. The boy is/was wonderful. He was perfect for the time in my life and getting over him won't be easy. But it won't be ugly, either. I am beginning to reconcile how it all went down. It was a total shock to me -- and most everyone that knows us. But I know he didn't want to hurt me. That's probably why he let if linger so long, making it only that more painful. The lesson to be learned is to always be honest no matter how bad you think it will be.

I have thought over and over again this week about the little lessons from childhood that shape these very adult moments. I remember getting scolded for telling a lie. Mom would scream in her shrill but loving way, that the lie doesn't matter. It's the ability to lie that scares her. If I could tell her a little, meaningless lie, than I could tell her a devastating one.

The boy lied to me for a couple of months because he didn't want to hurt me. Because he really wanted to give it a chance. (And honestly, I think because his own personal well-being -- read "job" -- was tied to our relationship.) Everyday, he was telling little lies. About how he felt for me. About how "hot" I was. About "our future." He was lying because he wanted it to work. I believe that. But, where could the relationship go if it was full of these little lies? A house of cards. He should have opened up early and maybe things could have been worked out. He could have demonstrated a propensity for the truth, and any future relied on the truth. Now, there's not much future.

I think we'll stay friends, though. He's a neat guy and with time, wounds heal. (I'm not a diabetic afterall.) There's definately someone out there for me. Hopefully someone better. Maybe even a lot better.

What do I have to show for it? Well. I have 74 posts. Some happy and funny. Some angst-filled. A few are rageful. I have a lot of memories. Some are fun. Some still make me want to cry. That day of the phone call. That was big. Almost as big as last Tuesday. He's not the last.

I've scrolled through the blog since I met him. How has my life changed? I don't drink Tanner's coffee anymore and have returned to the Coffee Bean. I've certified nearly 40 divers and truly loved every class. I have a new roommate and lost a bosslady. I came out to last people in my life I haven't confronted. I aged with friends. I've made some new ones. Lost some old ones. Lost some hair (it's growing back). I discovered the meaning of life.

Oh. And Lance Bass is gay. Damn. It's been a crazy five months.

PS: Yes, this means I'm single. Accepting applications with 3 references and a credit check.

Patricia Heaton, you are a useless twat!

As a gay man, I've never found much use for twats in general, but of all the twats in the world, Patricia Heaton is the most useless! I hate her.

I hate her because she was the most shrill and obnoxious one on the most shrill and obnoxious TV show ever.

I hate her because her mindless television commericials for Albertsons portray her as someone who has ever done her own grocery shopping. I will give $100 cash to someone who can provide me a real photo of Heaton in a grocery store buying real groceries. I will give $1,000 cash to someone who can provide me a photo of her buying oversized, black dildos by the gross!

But mostly I hate her because of what she represents: conservative, Hollywood-type political activists. For years we've listening to blowhards like Rush Limbaugh and Ann Coulter condemn limosuine liberals like Barbra Streisand and Rosie O'Donnell for mucking up the political discourse. Rob "Meathead" Reiner apparently has no right to a political opinion because he had a different career first -- except Rush can be the political go to guy for the right even though his resume has less Oxford Debating Society and more "Rush Hour Drive Time Host of KPIG Albuquerque".

After getting their fill of Streisand types, Republicans in La La Land have come out swinging. Patricia Heaton -- the anti-abortion crusader -- has done a number of activities on behalf of the GOP. Her newest is an ad campaign against stem cell research in Missouri.



Patricia Heaton... a bunch of athletes... and Jesus himself. Why are they in this ad? Because stem cell research proponents, including Democratic nominee for Senate Claire McCaskill are running an ad, a much better ad, featuring Michael J. Fox.



See. It totally makes sense. Michael J. Fox is an actor. So if we get other actors -- local celebrities too -- to debunk what the "actor" says, we'll win. Right? Except, the idiots forget that Michael J. Fox isn't "just an actor." Since giving up his primetime sitcom several years ago, Fox has dedicated himself 100% to the promotion of stem cell research and other potential cures for diseases like Parkinsons. He has Parkinsons. Thus, the passion.

First complaint: If you don't think liberal celebrities are entitle to publicize their political opinions, than conservatives ones can't either.

Second complaint: Try to find celebrities that have some sore of credible credentials to the issue. Years of delivering the unfunny on Everybody Loves Raymond does not train you to be an expert on Stem Cell Research.

Final complaint: Stop mucking up the debate with rhetoric and exaggeration. And leave Jesus out of it!

Patricia Heaton, I hate you! You are contributing nothing to this campaign. And when one of my loved ones dies from a disease for which stem cell research may have offered hope, than I will blame you personally.

Go to your reunion, young one.

Saturday evening has come and gone. I've had some time, not nearly as much as you'd figure, to digest the evening. My one line summary -- the take-way from the ordeal -- for you dear readers is: Go to your reunion.

I am so glad that I did.

In high school, I wasn't popular in the traditonal sense. I certainly wasn't unpopular either. I had a core group of friends -- mostly from the swim team and it included about 6 - 10 of us at any given time -- and a few from other places. I was in this "gifted" group in Junior High and stayed friendly with most through high school, especially in the honors courses we shared. I also got sick in my junior year and shifted out of the honors courses and mixed with the reular folk -- who had so much more fun and for whom school wasn't so miserable. I also had some friends from church -- typical Catholic obligatory stuff, not "Church is my Teen Life" stuff, and some friends from the yearbook staff. All this is to justify, to explain, that yeah, I had some friends. People knew me.

The reunion decision was tough, but my best friend and I decided we'd rather go and be miserable then miss something like this. We called up two others from "our core group" that we still see periodically and they agreed. The four of us would go, along with some dates. One husband. One girlfriend. One gentleman friend -- more to come.

Prior to the reunion, we went to visit spawn. The married SoCal couple popped one out over the summer, and since the little one can't hold her liquor, she wouldn't be at the reunion. We went to visit. It was fun.

We met at the house of someone still living in town and prepartied. My gentleman friend looked dapper. I looked liquored. We rolled into the cars.

The crowd was thin and clearly I was the only 'mo in the room. Who cares. We stopped for a picture for some memory book that no one was buying. This picture will be awkward for some time. More to come on that too.

Straight to the bar. This wasn't so important as I brought along a flask. I guess I needed something to mix or chase with. I got it. Now let's see who we'll meet. Girl who I went to college with her sister and thus constantly confuse their names. Check. Pretend high school girl crush who is over six feet tall and is wearing 5-inch heels. Check. Delinquent who got me drunk at 15 and her new fiance who was my boss for about 5 years. Check. They were all here. And they were fun.

The reunion itself -- the meal, entertainment, facilities -- was lame. The people were awesome. We left the country club around 11 and hit a bar near the mall. They closed at midnight so we moved to another. They closed at 2 and we decided that the reminiscing was over. Now everyone can go back to their cars and talk about how Brian is now a big, ol' fag.

Need a hug?

From Dan Gillespie, recently out frontman for the British band the Feeling:

Nobody in Soho ever really feels beautiful or desirable, do they? Because everyone's going around like peacocks... Everyone is oozing sexuality, but they're quite clearly dying for a hug.

More to come...

Google Bombs!

A Google bomb is an effort to skew Google's patented and superior search results to call attention to a web site. Google's search system scans the web for how often a search term appears, increasing its relevance and position on the list of found sites.

Since the mainstream media -- especially the pop media like the networks news, CNN and Fox news -- have abdicated their responsibilities as stewards of the public trust, as journalist seeking truth, and as reporters of fact, some progressive activists have decided to raise the "profiles" of certain Republican candidates for higher office.

To do this, they need blogs and web sites to link these candidates with heavily researched articles that paint them for the slime that they are. This post is my contribution to the Google bomb. Check out some of these stories and look at who the GOP is putting up for Congress this year.

-AZ-Sen: Jon Kyl

--AZ-01: Rick Renzi

--AZ-05: J.D. Hayworth

--CA-04: John Doolittle

--CA-11: Richard Pombo

--CA-50: Brian Bilbray

--CO-04: Marilyn Musgrave

--CO-05: Doug Lamborn

--CO-07: Rick O'Donnell

--CT-04: Christopher Shays

--FL-13: Vernon Buchanan

--FL-16: Joe Negron

--FL-22: Clay Shaw

--ID-01: Bill Sali

--IL-06: Peter Roskam

--IL-10: Mark Kirk

--IL-14: Dennis Hastert

--IN-02: Chris Chocola

--IN-08: John Hostettler

--IA-01: Mike Whalen

--KS-02: Jim Ryun

--KY-03: Anne Northup

--KY-04: Geoff Davis

--MD-Sen: Michael Steele

--MN-01: Gil Gutknecht

--MN-06: Michele Bachmann

--MO-Sen: Jim Talent

--MT-Sen: Conrad Burns

--NV-03: Jon Porter

--NH-02: Charlie Bass

--NJ-07: Mike Ferguson

--NM-01: Heather Wilson

--NY-03: Peter King

--NY-20: John Sweeney

--NY-26: Tom Reynolds

--NY-29: Randy Kuhl

--NC-08: Robin Hayes

--NC-11: Charles Taylor

--OH-01: Steve Chabot

--OH-02: Jean Schmidt

--OH-15: Deborah Pryce

--OH-18: Joy Padgett

--PA-04: Melissa Hart

--PA-07: Curt Weldon

--PA-08: Mike Fitzpatrick

--PA-10: Don Sherwood

--RI-Sen: Lincoln Chafee

--TN-Sen: Bob Corker

--VA-Sen: George Allen

--VA-10: Frank Wolf

--WA-Sen: Mike McGavick

--WA-08: Dave Reichert

Into the Belly of the Beast

Tomorrow is my 10 year high school reunion. After much deliberating, I – along with my best friend and others from our “group” – decided to attend. I’ll be taking my boyfriend.

Wow.

I wasn’t out in high school. Now, I’m very, very out. I’m really happy about it. I don’t know how it will go over. For 10 years, I’ve spent my energy surrounding myself with like-minded folks for whom gayity isn’t an issue – under any circumstances. Tomorrow night, I’ll be partying in a room of a couple hundred of people, many of whom may really, truly hate gay people. I’ll be partying with my wonderful boyfriend on my arm. With these people.

It’s easy, living on the Westside of Los Angeles and working in social services, to forget that not everyone like gay people. I need to remember that there are some people, probably too many people, who truly hate us without provocation.

Sitting at home tonight, Friday, I’m waiting to pick my best friend of from the airport and it’s late. With little to do, I’m watching Real Time with Bill Maher. One of tonight’s guests is Barney Frank, the openly gay Democratic congressman from Massachusetts. Congressman Frank just reminded me how much we really are hated.

Taking the conversation to the subject of gay Republicans and the recent outing of GOP Senator Larry Craig (eww!), Barney Fag – he was once called that by the majority leader of the United States House of Representatives, a man named (get this) Dick Armey! – pointed out the foulness of the modern Republican Party. The modern GOP truly believes that my lifestyle should be illegal, that my relationship is a crime.

Hyperbole, you say? Not so fast. Remember, just a few years ago the Supreme Court was faced with this very question in the Lawrence vs. Texas decision. The state of Texas wanted to jail a gay couple for having an intimate relationship in the privacy of their own home. In Texas, their relationship was outlawed. They were criminals because of whom they loved. This was just a few years ago.

President Bush said he supported the Texas law and wanted it upheld. He was joined by most Republican leaders including prominent conservative voices like Justices Antonin Scalia and Clarence Thomas. They really believed that homosexuality was a crime. Their disappointment was palpable when a five-person majority on the court came down on the side of reason.

They hate us.

I hope not too much. I don’t want to get beat up at my high school reunion. That would be sad.

UPDATE: First of all, this is a clip of Barney Frank on Real Time with Bill Maher:


Second, the reunion was a blast and 100% positive. I'll write more about it later today if I time.

Is my bag of M&Ms trying to tell me something?

As seen on my desk this afternoon...

Good Morning, Captain Douchebag

So, John McCain supports gay marriage? Oh, no. He goes on to say that, ""I think private ceremonies are fine. I do not think gay marriage should be legal."

Well, I think John McCain could be innaugrated President. I mean, like a little ceremony and all. Certainly, it shouldn't be legal because this man is a moralless pussy.

What's worse, an arch-conservative, bigot looking out only for the wealthiest in the country, or the spineless "moderate", former POW who is called a traitor and who's multi-racial family is mocked but who then goes on to campaign for the re-election of the bigot who attacked him? John McCain -- wow -- he sure likes to... um... FLIP FLOP!

As Andy Towle, of Towleroad, says: "And blacks can sit in the front of the bus, just as long as it's the back and they're pretending it's the front."

What to do?

I have a problem which I have decided to solve by doing nothing. I don't think it will work.

We live in a duplex -- my roommates and I share the 3-bedroom upper unit and our neighbors share a 2-bedroom lower unit. There are 2 parking spaces in the building's carport and and a space in front that is small, but can hold a parked Honda Civic, like mine.

The downstairs neighbors moved in because my old roommate knew them and told them about the place, so we know them a little, although I know them the least of everyone. Since they moved in in January, we shared the 2 carport spaces -- one each -- and our unit dominated the front space saying we had always had it. Occassionally though, the short fat one parks his truck -- which only fits by blocking in his roommate -- in "my" space.

The facts: No lease, neither ours nor theirs, discusses the parking assignments. We have a 3-bedroom vs. their 2-bedroom. We pay more rent because of this. 98% of the time, the space is mine. He only parks their when the parking on the street is bad.

I'm afraid, though, that this trend is becoming more common. What should I do?

Should I say something to him? Should I demand he stop parking in my space? Should I create a schedule which we use to share the space? Should I slash his tires and his on his upholstery?

Help!

Good-Bye Ron: An Argument for Same-Sex Marriage

There are few issues that I am more passionate about than marriage equlaity. I support full marriage rights for same-sex couples. I oppose any half-assed compromises that cheapen human relationships and the concept of full equality under the law. Only uncompromising civil marriage rights will protect all American families. I've written about this in the past. Today, I have first-hand evidence.

From March 2004 to November 2005 I lived in a 3rd floor apartment of a 100 year-old Victorian house in Los Angeles. The "apartment" was actually the old servants quarters that had been converted several times over the years. The owners of the house were a quirky gay couple, Bruce and Ron.

Bruce and Ron had been together for probably more than 30 years. I don't know for sure. Bruce was an artist and all-around handyman. He could do amazing work around the house. Ron was a retired postal worker with a long career in government service. They had owned the historic home since the 1970s. When they bought it, it was in disrepair having once been used as a boarding house. They spent much of the 70s and 80s restoring the house to its original condition only to be devastated by the Northridge earthquake in 1994. The house slipped off the foundation and much of the insides were destroyed.

Ron and Bruce were a couple of moderate means. Being that Bruce didn't work a "day job" and was so handy around the house, he would fix the house himself. This is no small feat and to this day he's not close to being done. Ron played the role of supportive, patient husband.

Ron is one of the most gentle souls I've ever met. Truly a sweetheart and everything I'm not. Unfortunately, some time back he was diagnosed with a likely-fatal condition that I believe is similar to leukemia. When I was still at the house he was in and out of the hospital at City of Hope. Thank god for that government pension and health care.

I heard this week that Ronnie has passed away. Clearly he was suffering and I have faith and hope that he's finally at peace. I am heartbroken by Bruce's loss.

The pain that Bruce is going through will likely be made worse by the reality that his life of more than 3 decades ceased to exist when Ronnie passed. As a committed same-sex couple, in the eyes of the government, Bruce is no one. After sharing his life with Ron, after nursing him through illness for almost 2 years, after sharing every pain and joy with Ron, Bruce has no legal connection to Ron. And so, unlike the countless spouses of government employees before him who stood to collect that pension -- or a portion thereof -- Bruce has nothing. Ron worked as hard as any of his peers but will receive less compensation because he was gay.

I imagine that in the coming months Bruce will face a tough reality. How will he support himself as he approaches retirement age? Where will the twilight of his own life take him? Will he have to sell his beautiful home that he built with his partner, lover, and husband?

Thirty years and nothing to show for it.

When I lived in the house, Bruce decided to remodel our apartment. It took him forever, but the work he was doing was amazing. When he gutted the kitchen, he stripped off some panelling put up in the early 80s. Bruce had done that work himself as well. At some point during the work he had taken a pencil and scribbled on the wall. "Bruce. Lover of Ron." This was uncovered more than 20 years later but was as true as the day it was written.

Always Look on the Bright Side of Life

There's someone in Washington (either DC or state) thanking his lucky stars he lost an election back in 1994. Who? This guy:



Thank the lord, for George Nethercutt. In 1994, Congressman Foley -- Tom Foley -- and Democratic Speaker of the House lost his re-election fight. If he hadn't, there could quite possibly be 2 "Congressman Foleys" in Washington DC, and well, there might be some confusion when you read these headlines about "Congressman Foley":

US congressman Foley: A modern day online Jekyll and Hyde?

Disgraced Congressman Foley was a Moderate "Pro-Choice" and "Pro-Gay Rights" Republican

Local Party Representatives React To Congressman Foley's Resignation

Disgraced Ex-Congressman Foley Caught Logging Online Tuesday While Supposedly in Alcohol Rehab

...and there's plenty more.

So, the lesson: Be careful with your name. So says, Ambassador Tom Foley. (The former congressman who was run out of town by the voters and not a bunch of pissed off male pages...) You wouldn't want to get caught up in that one!

Benefits of iPod Hell

It's 2006. I finally got an iPod. Go figure!

I've been using, and loving, iTunes for some time now. I like the format. I like the user interface. And, I actually like paying for things that I am using. Freak.

So, for my birthday, my folks got me an iPod. I thought it would be the most wonderful thing ever. No more burning CDs. I can just listen to all the fabulous songs that I've found.

The iPod-life isn't as grand as I imagined. I'm disappointed that you can't use it to "sync" multiple iTunes -- for example, making my work iTunes and my home iTunes the same. Don't even get me started on the crappy iTuner thingee that is supposed to tune my iPod into my car radio. LA has way too much radio clutter.

The benefit of these downsides? Today, I said, "Fuck it, I'm gonna listen to my new Scissor Sisters tracks if it kills me." So I've been sitting at my desk working, wearing earphones and rocking out to "Ta Dah".

And because I'm wearing earphones, no one wants to disturb me in my office. It's fabulous... a little forcefield to repel the idiocy that is my workplace.

I love my iPod.

Abercrombie & Fitch Scares Me...

Last night I headed to the Grove, near my old hood, with the gentleman friend (he's back... more on that later) and another to catch a flick. The film was decent and the movie-going experience was mostly uneventful. However, prior to the movie, I had the sh*t scared out of me.

Casual friend in the company needs a new hat. He lost his last one. Trying to figure out where to go in his search, we suggested that staple, Abercrombie & Fitch. The Grove has had an A&F store for some time. Well, apparently they changed it. Casual friend was afraid of the store. "Hogwash," I said. He dared me to enter it. He'd be waiting outside.

Now, let me put up a disclaimer. I'm not a huge Abercrombie fan. I really only like their baseball caps, a trend that started in college when my residents bought me one for a birthday gift. Since then, I've own probably 2 or 3 things from the store. I used to like one of their scents. I had a sweater from there I loved. But I'm not a huge A&F billboard. Mostly because I think the store's attitude sucks.

My first trip to Abercrombie was about 1998. I was in college and the brand was slowly becoming really popular. I was an RA and one of my residents worked at the South Bay Galleria store, so I checked it out. It was weird. The sales staff didn't do a lot of selling. They basically ignored you. Over the next 8 years, I'd learn this was by design.

They always hired pretty people and told them to ignore the customer. That get's old really fast. My dollars found their way in to friendlier stores.

I've always like the look of the Abercrombie & Fitch stores though. Clean. White. Easy to find stuff, which is important because the staff ain't gonna be much help.

The new store at the Grove, one of 2 flagship stores (the other is on NYC's 5th Avenue), really was scary.

All the white is gone. The posters of have naked men greeting you at the windows gone. Simplicity, gone. The windows have been covered by massive shutters blocking any view of the inside. All the wood is dark, and it's everywhere. The lighting is dim and the music is loud.

Oh, and the clothes, they are under glass! All the jeans are stacked high to the ceiling behind a counter with display numbers under glass. Each counter is staffed with a salesperson. Presumably, you look at the jeans you like under glass and the salesperson will retreive your size for you. Like buying jewelry. And since each pair of jeans will likely require a second mortgage on your house, the jewelry buying experience may be quite appropriate.

The store is huge. To give you an idea, I found this photo of the center staircase. It's big. The store is 3 floors and spreads out much farther than before. It's got a crapload of beautiful employees. All judging you. And now, you have no choice but to talk to them. Abercrombie & Fitch scares me.



Fortunately, I just turned 28, and really, I shouldn't be shopping there anymore any way. Lest I become one of "those" guys.