Yeah 3x

So I started taking medication for

A
D
H
D.

Wow. Wish I could describe it.

It's weird, you know--it's a stimulant, but it is prescribed to do exactly the opposite. Like really. Imagine yourself playing a one-man game of hot potato (so juggling?) with all of the stimuli around you in addition to a mess of unrelated thoughts in your head. That is life inside my head. It's a miracle I actually accomplish anything.

Slap me on some meds, and I can magically handle and examine one thought at a time for as long as I'd like. Really- I have never felt that way before in my life. Ever. Well, I mean I can hyper-focus, but it's usually the wrong thing at the wrong time. I've never actually made a decision to focus on something and then focused on it.

Whatever. You get the point. I just wish I would've done this like 10 years ago. Don't get me wrong: it's not like I've lived a life of underachievement and lost opportunities, but I wonder how much better I could have done with class, tests, or whatever... Aaaaaaanyways

Got a note from that missionary. Yeah. Guess I only brought up my problem with phone calls in previous posts, right? Makes my heart explode out of my chest. I hate that I get so googly-eyed.

THEN, I got a note the next day from a good friend halfway between home and school. Halfway friend? Is that like a halfway house? What exactly is a halfway house? It's settled, dude: you've got yourself a nickname... albeit a confusing one... Point is, kinda made my day after confusing missionary correspondence.

Not writing the missionary back.

Also, it's Christmas. And almost the end of the year. Maybe this is gonna be a longer post than I was expecting. A year-end reflection kinda thing? I mean, I might not be feeling it a week from now, and beggars (you) can't be choosers.

What was I doing a year ago? Well, thank goodness for this journal. I was watching Criminal Minds with my little sister and seeing that really, really good-looking guy yelling at some crazy (like stabby crazy) gay kid that there's nothing wrong with him... and then realizing that I agreed with really, really, ridiculously good-looking guy... and then realizing that I never look at a gay person and think of it as something that's wrong with them.

Then, realizing that I hold myself to a different standard, thinking that this is the only thing standing between me and a life that would make my parents, friends, family proud... selfless, right?

Haha. Right. A poor excuse to cover up the occasional (read: frequent) jolts of agony I feel for being incapable of living a life that I see as equal to those around me, acceptable in their eyes. It's really just selfish. Selfish because on some level, I'm still ashamed.

Ouch.

But why the bad stuff? I also kicked ass in school this year, survived a high-speed crash, made bank, spent some quality time with my family, finished a retaining wall, made some excellent friends, learned to cook authentic Indian food, wait-

learned you can make whipped eggnog--no shit! Just one part cream to one part eggnog. Then beat it for a long time. Haha- that's what she said. Make some drinking chocolate, top it with whipped eggnog, and sprinkle some cinnamon, and you've got yourself a drink that'll not only send the Christmas Spirit beating down your door and tracking snow through your house (all the while shouting a mixture of slurred profanities and "Merrrrrrrr Chrrstmsss"'s), but also send you into the new year with 20 extra pounds and type two diabetes.

Hands down the most amazing 2010 event thus far. Guess I've got a few days to see if anything else is gonna top that. My new meds came pretty damn close--I'll be honest.

As for the rest of it, I need to focus more on sincerity and less on outcomes, I know. We do our best to push onward and ask for forgiveness along the way because that's the most we can expect of ourselves. And in a world of inevitable interactions, collisions, human contact, I think self actualization lies somewhere around the point when we see through our own actions and outcomes to our underlying intentions. We find permission to seek and grant forgiveness for ourselves... it's a work in progress...

And you? I sincerely wish you a merry Christmas. Maybe we could all sit down to lunch sometime? Share a few hearty homo guffaws over a grilled chicken salad and an apple-tini? That was the gayest lunch I could think of...

Love Like Woe

My mom finally figured out the other night that the screaming on the answering machine was coming from the answering machine. !!! Did I tell you she used to think it was just the telemarketers calling and screaming? Hahahahahaha!

And people would call and be like, "Hello? Oh... got a worried sound on your answering machine..." Hahahaha. Telemarketers calling and screaming?!

So she finally realized it the other night and asked me, "TC, did you do something to the answering machine?" Keep in mind that I cannot tell a lie, and this isn't past-presidential-style folklore "I cannot tell a lie"about chopping cherry trees or whatever--I'm really, really awful at lying. I wish I were better.

"No?" I said, already starting to laugh. I was going upstairs to run away...

"TC, are you lying?"

I started laughing so hard that I cried and then tripped up the last of the stairs and fell in the hall.

Telemarketers? Telemarketers?!

To Clarify

This song that I'm in love with--"All I need"--it's by Mat Kearney...

That might be helpful should you find a different song under that title and wonder what the hell I'm thinking...

All I Need

This song makes me feel something--longing? Or comfort? Like something that reaches deep within and rearranges... neither creating nor destroying.

Damn you, Pandora. It's just adding to the mood. I want to be indifferent, cold, immovable. He was in the area today, so he visited--the missionary. What the hell, TC?! And why are you doing this, missionary. You left, and I thought I was free. You called. You called, again; and I prayed that it would just go away. Then you show up on the doorstep. And no matter how far I've been removed for how long, it tugs and pulls and tears off that scab I've so carefully constructed. There's something about you--I can't even tell if it's an actual physical attraction or that I just want to be where you are.

And you're not. Really. I mean, it may sound to you (the reader) like he is or could be, but you'd have to be there. It isn't a possibility. It's not a possibility.

But man, just when I think I'm strong, it shakes me to the core. I just need to remind myself that it will go away, eventually... that I'll learn to see this as what it is: a friend.

And someday, I will find someone who does the exact same thing to me as this kid does... except I'll do the same to him. It'll happen- I know it will. And it'll feel right, it'll feel comfortable.

Missionary, I'm grateful for you. I wish I didn't feel this way--really, truly wish I didn't feel this way. And you've forced me to learn and to change. You claw at the corners of my heart, though I try to cover, to hide, to harden then. And through the pain, I am reminded that I am human- that no matter how high, how long, how deep the stony wall may be, it will only ever be a feeble and failed attempt to guard the emotions that humble and humanize, that bind my soul to my body, that paint broad strokes of deep blues and purples across our landscape.

I need a change of songs. Scratch that--I need to go to bed.

You Found Me

Where were you when everything was falling apart? When all my days were spent by the telephone? It never rang, and all I needed was a call. It never came to the corner of First and Amistad.


Lost and insecure. You found me, you found me. Lying on the floor, surrounded, surrounded. Why'd you have to wait. Where were you? Where were you? Just a little late. You found me. You found me.


I like it. It's how I feel.

Against my better judgment, I'm on the internet when I should be sleeping. It's hard to feel really bad about it when I know tomorrow's Friday, but still...

Dear persistent guy:

I'm not sure how to handle this. I'm a lot more observant than I let on to, more careful than I'd like to admit... You're way more into this than me, and I don't know what to do about it. I don't know what I want, so it puts me in an interesting position. I don't know how to handle you--I don't know how to handle someone who is interested in me? It makes me nervous- why? Why do you feel this way about me?

And why don't I feel the same way for you? But I guess that's how it works sometimes...

What am I trying to get at? Maybe another one to save and not to post.

It's hard not to be suspicious when someone is interested in me. Like I've said before, you wouldn't have to put a paper bag over my head or something if we were hooking up, and I'm not schizo or something... I just feel ordinary, unassuming. And that's ok with me. In fact, I prefer it. As it turns out, attention makes me queasy.

So why? and I feel your expectations. I am destined to let you down in that regard.

This isn't supposed to be a downer for me or you, it's just that I am destined not to meet your expectations; and the higher they are, the more I pull away. I'm secretly terrified of disappointing people.

But let's say some nice things about me! First, I have a pretty damn good sense of humor. Well, good/offensive. Second, I am tall (but more on the average side), dark (except in the winter), and passably handsome. Third, I have a pretty good memory. Fourth, I'm a good cook. Fifth, my teeth are white, and I've got some pretty decent abs. Sixth, (and most importantly!) I'm humble.

Haha.

I saw one of my friends who I haven't seen in about six years. In some ways, it was really nice. In others, I didn't want to be there... I don't know why? I guess because I was afraid of it being awkward--we have the history, you know? But six years is a long time.

Also, I realized that the blinds on the window in my bathroom actually weren't obscuring your view of me... noticed that the fact that I could see clearly outside when I got out of the shower this morning meant that you could see me clearly from the street. Hope you enjoyed the show :).

Oh Come, Oh Come, Emmanuel

Yes, it is time for Christmas music. I probably mentioned this before, but my mom has enough Christmas music to rival most radio stations. My favorite is Manheim Steamroller... especially the one that starts with "Hark! The Herald Trumpets Sing," as I think it is the one we heard the most when I was little.

When I was little, we always set the tree up in the sitting room. There was a fireplace on one end and the Christmas tree on the other. At night, I used to go downstairs, turn the tree lights on, and lie under the tree. I was obviously a lot smaller than I am now :). The lights always felt warm and safe... There was something about sitting underneath the warm, bright tree while the moon lit up the snow-covered ground outside... Everything was quiet, peaceful.

After my parents divorced, things didn't feel that way for a long time. I know it was because the old traditions were over, no matter how hard we tried to recreate them. But after some stumbling, I think we were able to create new traditions. Now, despite our weird hybrid-family situation, I've noticed those feelings returning.

Anyway, today was a good after-Thanksgiving. For one, I have a new mac. Thank goodness. I'd like to think I'm not an Apple snob. It really was in a price range that I can justify. Also, it's hard not to buy a computer that looks so good, you know?

I mean, throw up two computers in the same price range and with comparable specs, and I'm gonna go with looks. This little guy is pretty darn good-looking. I've got to think of a name for him.

What else can I tell you? Everyone I know and love around me is getting a pretty bad flu bug. I'm hoping it doesn't happen to me. I've been washing my hands and not touching my face, so that's a good start... It's just a really inconvenient time to get sick.

And I'm poor again. As much as I'd like to think I can throw money around for a new computer and not feel the effects, it's a lie!

Dang it. I feel like I've just rambled the whole time. I'd like to give you something that'll make it worth your time to read this post... I've got nothin. Sorry. I'm really tired, though.

Night.

If I Die Young

Bury me in sun. Lay me down in a bed of roses.

You should probably listen to this song.

Have you ever been riding on a merry-go-round that's spinning really fast? And you try to focus on the images as they blur past you, but you can only capture a moment of clarity before it reverts back to blurry?

That's like my brain. I was staring at this report at work the other day, and I almost started crying out of frustration. I couldn't focus on it--I couldn't find the willpower or something. It just kept blurring past me.

I had pretty bad ADD when I was little. My mom told me that when she'd rearrange the furniture in a room (when I was like four, mind you), I'd run around in circles in the room for 10 or 20 minutes, trying to take it in. Always got in trouble in school, too. My mom was a special ed teacher, so she helped me learn how to cope with it. I just learned to do everything as fast as I could--held my breath sometimes and just did as much as I could for as long as I could hold my breath. My teachers in elementary school had extra work that they would give me after I finished the normal stuff.

But yeah, I find a 10- or 20-minute period where I can focus, and I just do as much as I possibly can... Testing is a little trickier, but I speed through those, too. And it works ok--it means I miss some questions sometimes, but life goes on. Thank goodness for a good memory, as I think that helps balance everything out. Also, I can like hyper-focus on certain things, so I've been lucky in classes that relate to those subjects.

As it turns out, this coping method doesn't work at work... that missing a few details here and there can be really expensive. Either I need to find a different profession, or I need to find a way to take care of this. I'm gonna go get tested, learn about different ways to cope.

The persistent guy texted me the other day:

"you don't wanna talk to me anymore? things seem different..."

Me: Dammit. These always come at the wrong time for me. We're seriously going to have this conversation while I'm at work? I don't know what the hell I want, and now I have to find some way to verbalize feelings I'm not entirely sure I understand in the first place? Maybe I should just break it off right now? But this is a nice kid... But it is also not very good timing for me to be in any kind of relationship... but when will the timing be good... "No dude. I'm just kinda confused right now. I mean, I don't know really where to go from here--BYU's not the ideal place to be in a relationship, and I don't want to be outed or kicked out of school or something. So, to answer your question, I do still want to talk to you, but I'm just trying to figure out where we go from here."

Him: "Well, I'll leave the ball in your court."

Well, I'm trying to figure out what kind of ball this is and what kind of court we're in... or what planet I'm on, for that matter. Leaving the ball with me would be a little bit easier if I understood if this was the beginnings of a friendship or relationship or the end of something... But for heaven's sake, let's define the ball before going and leaving it with me in whatever the hell kind of court I'm in. I don't even know what game we're playing!

So here's to ambiguity in all of its glory, as it seems to bless my life in excessive quantities...

And here's to ADD in all of it's glory. How else would I be able to finish tests so quickly?

And lastly, I cooked with black truffle oil for the first time. This may be a staple in your cupboard, so bear with me, but it was pretty dang good. Marinated NY strip steak in red wine, garlic, crushed pepper, etc; slapped it on the grill, then finished it off with some truffle oil and served it with herbed wheat berries. Don't wanna toot my own horn too much, but that was pretty dang good.

Stay With You

The persistent guy is back in a big way. Maybe bigger than I'd like... Trying to slow him down. Granted, we haven't (want won't be able to for a couple months) met up, but I get nervous every time I feel like change is coming. This is just awkward, because how do you explain to your friends the fact that there is suddenly another guy there, too? Have I mentioned I am a miraculously bad liar?

And I feel bad for the guy because I go through these swings of "yeah, I like this guy" to "what the hell am I doing? I should really just stay single."

Anyways, I've got a couple months to really come to a decision.

Also, I signed up for classes for next semester. That should be interesting. I'm getting to the point where graduation really is within reach, and I'm a little scared. Still not really sure I'll ever be employed, and I don't think I'll believe it until I actually have a job.

Kinda a letdown--I got on here with full intentions of writing something, and this is all you get.

I've been sleepwalking a little lately. Nothing extreme, but I'll wake up in the morning naked (?) with clothes folded and in a pile or with more clothing than I went to bed with... or stuff will be in different places in the morning. Thought I was going crazy, but my dad told me I used to sleepwalk a lot when I was little.

It only really happens if I'm super stressed, which I've kind of been lately. I just have to remember to keep my life in perspective. The worst-case scenario never seems to be so bad once you push your imagination to that limit... it becomes "known" to you, and knowing seems to help the stress and fear dissipate.

Here's to waking up with the exact same clothing I went to bed in.

Lovers in Japan

On rare occasions, I won't skip Coldplay on my Pandora station. Their songs sound mysteriously similar, though. Like "Clocks" and "Speed of Sound"... anyone? I was actually listening to "Clocks" when I crashed my car and had a sweet near-death experience, so it kinda does the opposite of relax me now.

In other news, I have finally put a shirt on for the day... and put my contacts in, too. This is the life.

I sometimes write stuff on here that I don't actually post, and I was reading through one of those unposted entries just now. I'm grateful that I can come here and dump the contents of my brain onto the webpage. Not sure if getting it out in the sunlight helps it wither and die, but it definitely helps.

Remember the persistent kid? He's back. Always catches me in a weak spot. Nothing can happen from the long distance, though.

This kid is so nice. First of all, I can actually have a conversation with him that doesn't revolve around him... unlike the original guy. Second, he doesn't push. Third, I don't think I've had someone actually beat me to paying for dinner, but it was kinda a nice feeling. Thought it would be emasculating, you know? Haha, but I guess I probably shouldn't even worry about that. And it isn't.

And so I started thinking the other day about how I don't necessarily believe I deserve this guy... which  made me wonder why... which made me wonder if I'm using relationships as a way to punish myself for being this way? Which made me really confused and a little worried, so I stopped thinking about it altogether.

Thing is, I think I do deserve someone nice- someone who'd be as willing to sacrifice for me as I'd be for them. I deserve someone who brings out the best in me, who doesn't make me feel like I have to try to be good enough.

Not like I've made plans to elope in a gay-marriage state with the kid or anything. I just appreciate the fact that every other text I get doesn't make me feel like I need to do something to make myself better. I appreciate that interacting with him helped understand this a little better.

That'll do for today.

The Minstrel's Prayer

Yes, I will admit that Cartel is a little "yell-y," if you will... but it's still a good song... and WAAAAYYY better than what my Pandora was playing last time.

Not sure (like the majority of the other times) why I'm on here, but blogging kinda makes me feel productive? I was wide. awake. at early o'clock this morning, just like every other Saturday since my biological clock decided it was time for me to be an old man. I mean, seriously... I was tired and went to bed at 11:30 last night... it was Friday? What the hell? And I get a little bent out of shape if I'm going to bed later than 10:30 on weeknights.

But blogging! I have this bimonthly (or even monthly, sometimes) tradition of going through the Connexion guys. No, no profile for me, but it does remind me that I'm not the only gay person on the face of the planet. And some of those guys are pretty dang good-looking. I figured out what gets me: a good smile, and a defined jaw... weird, right? The jaw thing might be because I've always been a little disappointed that I don't have a chiseled jaw, but it's not like I stand in the mirror and count the reasons why no one could love me... Just a personal observation. And scruff. Anyway, that was what I decided to do this morning with part of my extra hours of consciousness.

And remember that missionary? He got transferred away a little bit ago... but called me last night... which kinda made me miss him... lots... until I walked myself through the logic of how that could (read: couldn't) work out. But it's confusing. I mean, come on, man, I've accepted the fact that you're not and it can't be, but I still feel little (big) twinges when you do stuff like that.

I had a breakfast of graham crackers and nutella with a glass of organic whole milk to wash it down. And I wonder what happened to my abs... but here's the deal--organic milk really is so much better. Granted, there isn't much of a difference (I think) in taste between organic/non-organic skim milk, but 2% and better definitely have a better taste. There's something about the milk fat or cream or whatever. And it comes in a glass bottle, like a throwback to the 50's and milkmen. We actually had a milkman when I was little. I remember him leaving milk in this kinda steel (it was metal, that's all I remember) container.

Also, for once, I'm not so poor. And my car is being fixed under warranty. Also, my mom still hasn't figured out that the answering machine is now just three seconds of screaming. I'm halfway waiting for the day when she calls and asks me why someone had the police sent to her house to check up on her. The novelty still hasn't worn off for me, maybe because I've been at the same level of maturity since I was 8.

I had one more funny story for you, and then I won't tell stories for a little while. But I was thinking about this the other day- oh! I know why. I saw this person and couldn't figure out if it was a feminine man or a manly woman. I know I shouldn't stare, but it's kinda like a car accident: you can't look away. And it got me to thinking (which got me to laughing, which is really weird when you're by yourself and laughing in public)...

It was freshman year, and I had gone out with one of the guys on my floor. I don't really understand why, but during my freshman year (not really before, and not really after... or not very often, at least) girls would call out or whistle or whatever at us. Let's get this straight (hahaha something on this blog should be...): it's not like I'm an ugly guy, and you wouldn't have to put a bag on my head if we were hooking up, but looks that'll stop traffic? Definitely not. Maybe I just missed the opportunities of a brief window of extreme hottness during my freshman year? haha. I did have an extra 20 lbs of muscle on me...

This is taking too long to tell you the story. So we were out one evening, and these girls pulled up in a car, rolled down the windows and were like, "heyyyy." It kinda surprised us, but we started walking up to them (not like it mattered to me). I got closer, looked at them, and (I really should think before I say shit) yelled, "those aren't girls! Those are trannies!"

Why did I say it? Truthfully, for a brief moment, they did look a little like trannies. I didn't realize that was just Utah's attempt at looking hott. Why did I yell it? Because apparently I should be on medication. I think it just caught me so off-guard that I didn't have time to filter my words...

Needless to say, the girls rolled up their windows and drove off. I was still a little confused at how this just happened. It was like an out-of-body experience. My buddy was a little disappointed, I think, but laughing too much to say anything more than, "nice job, dude."

And that was the first (and last) time I ever told someone they looked like a tranny... to their face...

You stay classy, San Diego.

Waiting on the World to Change

The song is good, not great. My Pandora's not working too great tonight.

Just one other really funny thing:

My bro-in-law and me taped over the stupid robot voice on my mom's answering machine. Now, it's just three seconds of us screaming. Most of the messages people leave now begin with confused mumbling and then something about the answering machine... and my mom hasn't figured it out yet. I can't stop laughing.

I Miss You

Just a quick funny story-

We were laughing about my niece the other night (in a good way--that girl is hilarious) and started talking about some of the stuff she does that I actually used to do... and I thought you might appreciate this one:

When I was little, I used to talk a lot. Like, really a lot. So, instead of talking, my parents used to make me count in the car. It was 350 from our house to the school, give or take some by how fast I was counting. It didn't take long before I started recognizing the patterns and stuff...

SO when it came time to start going to preschool, the preschool teachers sat down with us (individually) to see how much we knew about colors, numbers, shapes, etc. The teachers asked me to start counting, and I asked them how high they wanted me to count. They asked me how high I could count. I told them 1000. "Why don't you count to 100 right now, and then maybe you can count to 1000 in the car on the way home today, they said."

It's funny because it's one of the few specific memories I have from that far back. The teachers told my mom when she came to pick me up... only got to 350 on the way home, though.

My mom was almost crying from laughing so hard as she was retelling the story to us the other night. Oh man- what am I gonna do with myself?

I don't talk so much anymore, though, so don't worry.

The End Where I Begin (a repeat?)

Yesterday was the first day where I actually accepted the fact that it is going to be fall soon... well, that the weather would catch up to the season, I guess...

I thought about all of the winter things--traditions, food, decorations... it made me excited for it. Then, I started wondering if I really do want to live somewhere warm? I'm not sure a cup of super thick hot chocolate and a slice of pumpkin pie work out too well if it isn't cold outside. And cranberry sauce. Hmmm. Made an apple-cranberry chutney yesterday.

Yeah, I guess there is a time and place for the cold... I don't know why, but it seems like most of my family's traditions are all for the winter. I mean, there's the 4th of July tradition of boating, tubing, listening to the symphony, but that's really the only summer thing I can think of.

Have you ever been to a candlelight service? We used to go to one at a really traditional Christian church when I was little. I remember my mom forcing me to wear these itchy wool sweaters, being given a candle at the beginning of the service, singing tons of Christmas carols, then lighting the candle at the end of the service, dimming the lights, and singing "Silent Night" by candlelight. We'd pile in the car after the service and drive around, looking at the Christmas lights in this one area where they'd go all out. Then, we'd head home, head upstairs, head to bed. Sometimes, I'd lay underneath the Christmas tree and stare up at all the lights. I know they don't really give off tons of heat, but it still felt warm.

I actually didn't like Christmas morning too much--that was the time when you knew it was coming to an end.

But man, we're not even to Halloween. I do remember going door to door as fast as possible, getting home and dumping out all of our candy and spending the next few hours trading my siblings for what I wanted--Reese's and Crunch bars, for the most part. Pumpkin carving and toasted pumpkin seeds.

Yeah, this is an ok time of year, even if I do hate the cold...

Show Me What I'm Looking For

I can't remember if I've posted under this song title or not... and I'm too lazy to go check... so I'm sorry if I shafted you.

There was an article on MSN that I was just reading about sleep and what it means about you. I was reading the article, and it was like, "if you sleep like a log, you're grateful in real life... if you have restless sleep, you may be overly critical of yourself and anxious in general and at an unusual risk of death..."

Well, dammit. I am THE lightest sleeper in the world. For example, my stereo (when stereos were cool...) would make this whisper-quiet clicking noise before turning on in the morning to play music and wake me up. I always woke up to the click. And I wake up at night trying to solve problems and being really angry that I can't come up with the answer. When I force myself to actually sit up and think about the problem, it usually turns out that there is no answer. Otherwise, I will literally lie in bed for hours, frustrated and half-awake.

But then, the article was like, "If you have really vivid dream recall, you are probably a very creative person in the daytime." Yes! I have vivid dream recall! It felt good knowing that I was creative.

"People in this category are also at a higher risk of schizophrenia."

Oh...

So lemme get this straight, I'm an ungrateful, anxious, perfectionist, schizo who will die an early death?! And don't forget the "creative" part...

Well, come visit me at the mental health facility (but don't procrastinate, 'cuz I might die on you), and you'll probably find me yelling at me for never fully appreciating all the work the orderlies do for me and how if I'm not more grateful, I'll drive them away. But I will paint you a sweet picture... actually, I don't paint.

I went to my grandpa's farm this weekend to do some work up there. If you're picturing me as the hot farm-boy type, you should probably stop right there. I'm not. Wish I were... or that I could find one... or a cowboy... what the hell is wrong with me? But I definitely was not cut out for farm work. Really.

But I was talking to my grandpa, and I learned something about him that I never knew before: he wanted to be a concert pianist. No shit. "I had to be realistic, though; so I stayed here instead of going to music school." I've never even seen my grandpa touch a piano before. And then I started to think about me--did I throw away something that could have been really amazing? But talk about a profession that would drive me to kill myself. I couldn't handle it... no matter what you win or how well you do, you can't ever be perfect, and you can't beat everyone in the world... and nothing is ever good enough, either. But that's the way it has to be. You don't get better by thinking you're "good enough," you know?

Didn't mean to give you an earful. It's a delicate balance, though, and one I couldn't handle. And, to be perfectly honest, it is impossible to pursue all possible courses at once. We trudge ahead and, perhaps with bravado, claim it was the correct path. We can't measure what might have been, but we trust that it pales in comparison to what is.

It's still hard for me to be ok with myself sometimes. I'm grateful for the rational me that forfeited the audition processes and put me in an environment that was maybe a little more nurturing.

And I respect the life my grandpa has had. For one, I'm here. For another, he raised amazing (although some of them turned out Republican--wtf?) kids... his contribution was quiet but miraculous in a way that few people will ever recognize, but that's what makes it beautiful. Leave the stage to someone else, I say.

My dog is asleep on the floor in front of me. She's having a running dream right now. Maybe we can be schizophrenic together.

The Adventure (Angels & Airwaves)

***Spoiler Alert! This really isn't worth your time to read.***

I guess I'm getting a little more consistent in my blogging, again.

What stories do I have to share with you guys? It's kinda funny how I sometimes get the feeling like I should get on here and talk about something, and then I sit down and realize I don't really have anything to talk about...

My Friday has been about as uneventful as possible. I watched Bones, did some yoga-

Which reminds me. My brother-in-law gave me the P90x yoga... I guess I'm use to yoga being kinda relaxing (slash really uncomfortable), but this was different.. First of all, I cannot tell if that guy is gay or straight, or maybe bi, or maybe asexual. And he's a tool. And he seems to have something against Audra. And he calls the dancer guy "a wild man." What does that even mean? And I know yoga is a workout, but this seems a lot more "work out-y" than normal... But let's be honest--I am far from an expert.

Anyway, then I did some laundry, cleaned, cooked myself a super-late dinner, and sat down to blog.

I am currently home alone, which can be a little creepy. I keep the music on, so that helps. One really nice thing is that things stay clean. I can look at the kitchen without having a seizure. But then I start thinking about someone breaking in and trying to kill me, and then I think about what I would do to stop them... It depends on what kind of weapon they had. As long as they don't have a gun, I have a fighting chance. Even with a gun, I'd still like to think I'd put up a fight.

Now that we've discussed that...

I really should go to bed. There is nothing meaningful that is coming from this blog post.

Dang it. I should write something meaningful.

I was trying to home teach the other day. As I'm giving the lesson, I suddenly realize that my heart really isn't in it... that it wishes it were, that it wishes it could kindle that fervent faith... It was kind of depressing. I got in the car and drove home in silence, trying to pinpoint what was happening. I think that I've begun to believe (and sincerely) that religion does not have a monopoly on goodness, that there are so many good and beautiful things and people in the world- people trying to do their best to lift and brighten and improve. On the other hand, there are church members who are complete douches.

If I had taken time to think about it, I probably could have delivered the message more meaningfully. The Church really did help awaken a desire for me to look outwards and spend my energy there, and I believe that it has worked miracles in my life. But I've realized that the Church doesn't have all of the answers.

Yes, we could argue that the Spirit is our guide in finding answers to the problems we have. That belief has been a source of personal conflict: no answer--what do I do? How do I make this go away? I don't even know where to start. I'm doing everything I know how to do. Maybe I just need to be doing it for longer. Maybe I need to take more drastic measures. Just don't let me feel like I'm doing this on my own. Don't let me feel like I'm doing this in vain.


Maybe I should have waited longer, been more patient. But it is hard for me to ignore the potential beauty I could experience in this life for the promise of being able to get by under a guise of normalcy... It's also hard to know if what I'm doing is courageous.

But there is no black and white answer for that. For some people, I believe that the courageous thing is to forfeit the potential happiness of living a gay life for their belief in the Gospel. It's all very gray and confusing.

Love and Memories

I have a million things I need to be doing...

But today's a dreary day, so it's hard to get a fire lit under me. And, at the same time, I really did accomplish a lot earlier.

Now, everything is quiet, and I've got some alone time... finally. How do parents manage to raise kids when they pretty much have to be around them all of the time? Granted, there's work and everything, but I still like to go home and have some quiet the unwind. At the same time, I think about spending time with my niece and nephew--even when I'm tired, they energize me if I just push thoughts of being tired out of my head.

We were talking about coming home from our missions today. I remember sitting on the plane... thinking that this was just a really long transfer. I remember my connecting flight, saying good-bye to the same elders I had flown out with almost two years earlier. I remember writing in my journal on the flight... I remember thinking about how much I had done--how much good I had done. I didn't want to let it go. I knew what I was, and I was aware of it as I wrote.

The promises I was so sure about came with their caveats, and I wanted so desperately to hold on to the good that I had developed within me.

The plane cleared out, people shuffled on with their lives, but mine seemed to pause, to take a deep breath... They always said that the airplane ride was sacred. It was the last sanctuary, and I wanted to hold onto it so badly. Then, I held my breath and stood up. I walked to the escalator; and, as it carried me down, I caught a gradually unfolding picture of my family, waiting there for me.

I was trying so desperately to hold on, not to give in, not to forget or forsake or disappoint.

I'm afraid I've done all of the above. I'm terrified to face my mission president. He had so much confidence in me. "You are at once humble and powerful," he told me. I always appreciated that. I've never felt like very much of either.

There's nothing predictable or structured about the path now. I can pass it off as normal for a little while longer, but there will come a time where I have to be honest about it.

I didn't mean for this post to be so melancholy. I was just thinking about how much I wanted things to be normal, how much I wanted to be like everyone else, how much I didn't want to let the Lord down.

But I stand by my assertion that the unknown path is an adventure in and of itself and that I have learned to appreciate the perspective I've been given.

Now, I'm going to figure out exactly what kind of foods I should make for a rainy day.

In Bright Fire

Today is pretty much the most beautiful day since springtime. I'm actually not even bummed about going outside and mowing. I would take my shirt off to get a little tanner, but my farmer's tan is bad enough that I think it will just be a lost cause for this year.

But never again.

Granted, it isn't weird being white or anything, but I just don't like the multi-toned skin look, you know? haha.

It'll give me some quiet, too. The sound drowns out even my thoughts--kind of a nice feeling.

And the missionary: things kinda toned down, thank goodness. I mean, he isn't, and he's actually just a cool kid, so I can appreciate the way things are. It's funny how I feel like I swing back and forth from being completely fine being single to wanting someone to be there.

But on a day like today, it's hard to feel anything but excellent.

Getting done with work early helped, too, I guess. Ok, gotta mow.

For the Longest Time (Sherwood)

I think I'm in love with the Nissan Leaf.

F. Just when I thought I wasn't a huge homo. But it's pretty sweet. And I've gotta be honest: I'm a sucker for environmental stuff. My family might be to blame for that. If my mom forgets her reusable bags at the grocery store, she'll only buy what she can carry. The grandkids are in cloth diapers... farm fresh eggs, organic milk from the local dairy, chickens, huge gardens, orchards, so much canning... honestly, I'm kinda surprised we're not all smoking pot in the back of an old VW in our hemp clothes.

Smoking has always seemed kinda gross to me, though... and I don't know where to buy hemp clothes.

But I like all of that stuff. It sounds gay (guess I probably should give up on concerning myself with that), but you've got a connection to your food--you know where it came from, you know what went into it, and you know exactly what you're putting in your body. And organic milk from a glass jar tastes way better than milk in a plastic jug. Just sayin. Call me crazy, but, as a milk connoisseur, I taste the difference. That same dairy also makes a chocolate milk that is even more delicious than the BYU creamery's. I think they make it with angel blood.

Why did I start talking about this? Oh yeah--the Leaf. I'm pretty sure I want one. But I'm poor... and there's a lot of driving that will be happening in my life for a little while. Maybe once I settle down and get a job, I'll get one. And I'll get something else that is a little more practical for a long trip.

That's really all I've got to say tonight.

Oh yeah- I had a dream last night that I was in NYC and climbing into an elevator in this hotel. The elevator door hadn't closed completely, but the elevator started going up. Then, the building started shaking. There was a little space between the bottom of the elevator and the ceiling of the first floor, so I wiggled out just in time for the elevator to go up out of sight. Everyone was ducking. I was pretty sure we were in an earthquake, so I started looking for a doorframe. At least I was smart in my dream. It turned out to be a tornado. That dream scared me.

After that, I was trying to figure out a math problem in my head. It was really, really frustrating... and then suddenly I was awake-ish and couldn't stop thinking about the math problem. So I stopped myself (because this has happened too many times) and tried to concentrate on what the problem was. There was no solution. I got a drink of water and went to bed.

And lastly, I'm not sure I'm over the whole driving anxiety thing. I'll be driving and fine, and then I'll suddenly be having flashbacks to smashing into a semi in the car or flipping and rolling in the SUV--seeing it go light to dark to light as various windows are facing upwards or downwards... or feeling the sudden burst of cold air as the window gets smashed in...

And then I'll snap out of it and realize I've stopped driving. I should probably get that fixed, but how? Or maybe it'll go away. It only happens in heavy traffic... whereas I couldn't really ride in a car without just closing my eyes and breathing deeply every time I saw break lights there for a while.

Anyone up for a road trip?

The End Where I Begin

I would marry the Script... but I don't really think homosexual polyandry will be kosher anytime soon... although the thought does make me laugh a little.

I would at least just marry the lead singer. Don't know his name or what he looks like, but he's got me.

I just want to get on here and write a normal post about my day sometime. Secretly, (but not so secret since I'm telling you) I'm actually really nervous that someone I know might come across this and find out it's me. So writing about a normal post might be a little ways off.

In the meantime, I'll continue my abnormal post...

You know those mornings where your dreams kind of meld into reality, and you're not sure when you woke up? I looked at my clock--6:15. I can get out of bed at 6:40 and still be ready close enough to on time, so I just figured I'd wait for my alarm to go off. It never did. In fact, I never set it, I guess. But I woke up exactly when I needed to.

And then I landed an interview with a really good company... it was a test run for me--see if I'd even be considered, you know? 'Cuz if this one worked out, I could pretty much count on an interview with any other places that I wanted.

And I got another good internship. And my GPA was revised up.

I'm not sure I can make the interview... a long story, I guess. But it leads me to believe that I'll be Ok when the real job hunt begins.

So much to be thankful for, and kind of in disbelief. You expect the world to fall apart, you know? You expect your life to be a damned, hollow shell of the shining, spiritual lighthouse it was.

It isn't.

I'm grateful. To Him? Yeah, I think so. And if it turns out that He isn't there or had nothing to do with it, then I'm grateful for the random, fortuitous sequence of events.

End of All Time (Stars of Track and Field)

My family is gone today--phew. Gotta be honest: I love my parents and everything, but I need some alone time every once in a while. Being home has made me realize that if I ever did live close to home, I'd need to live outside of my parents' houses.

But I'm pretty sure I won't be sticking around here for a little while. It would be a nice place to come back to, but I want to go somewhere new... prove to myself that I can do it.

In other news, I'm hopelessly googly-eyed by a missionary... right? One-way ticket straight to hell, I say. (A) He's not gay; (B) he's a genuinely good person; (C) even if he were gay, where would we go from there? He's a missionary. I wish I could just turn off the attraction sometimes. I just try to keep running through those thoughts whenever that thought crosses my mind. Having been a missionary (and a gay one, at that), I can say that what I really wanted was to do what I was called to do to the best extent that I could. In spite of the raging hormones, I wouldn't have ever wanted to compromise that blessing. What am I trying to say? Even if this was the result of aligning stars and fates and threads, it couldn't happen.

Ok, I feel better. I'm eating a bowl of chickpeas and curry right now... I'm not sure why I love Indian food so much, but I do. I go through my Indian spices faster than the Mexican ones, which I didn't think was possible.

This song is actually pretty excellent. It helped calm me down a little bit, there.

You really don't need to read this post. I don't know if it's my time of the month or what, but I just need to get this stuff off of my chest.

You remember how I used to say I felt about the guy? As a side note, I need to think of a different nickname for him. Anyway, I liked him a lot. He liked me, too. Granted, the relationship (and I use the term loosely) was a little messed up--self-loathing and frustration mixed with attraction and concern created some kind of an emotional whiplash for us, and as much as I like to point out his crap, I was definitely not without blame.

But to make a long story short, something about being with the guy made me feel like everything was ok... it made me painfully aware of the fact that our relationship was not ok in its time and place. I like to be aware of risks and obstacles before jumping into something, but in spite of the impassable mountain of obstacles and potential consequences, I felt like everything was going to be fine... I felt like all I needed was the person sitting next to me. More than that, I felt ok about myself. I don't wander around feeling like an outcast, but there was something reaffirming about being with him.

Was it love?

I don't know. Honestly, the farther I get from that time, the more I become convinced that it was infatuation. The older I get, the more convinced I am that I've never actually been in love.

Whatever it was, I find myself wishing sometimes that I hadn't experienced it. Before that, the whole idea of finding someone seemed entirely impossible, unreasonable. It wasn't something I hoped for or looked for--just something I considered a dream, at best... a star shining from an unreachable corner of space.

But to find someone that makes you come alive, to find someone that makes you feel safe, important... it awakens something that will never go back to sleep. And as much as I try to convince myself that it is something I don't need or want, as much as I try to throw myself into whatever projects I can to make myself forget, the feeling remains. The dream has materialized, has become a reality... I've reached up and plucked the star from the sky and can't find the will to return and abandon it. I may miss the naïveté of it, but there is no way to go back.

I should embrace the uncertainty of it all, I know. Life has this really excellent way of forcing us through awkward doors, of bestowing perspectives we may initially not want... but perspectives we eventually treasure.

Well, that will definitely do for today. Guess I've had a lot to say. Again, you definitely get some mad brownie points for sticking it out this far. I can't even begin to tell you how nice it is outside, and I think I should go enjoy it.

Later.

Run Away With Me (ugh)

I had some meaningful things to get on here and talk about, but I can only remember one at the moment... maybe the other will come to me as I type.

I watched 'Stardust' today. Haha. The only other time I watched it was in Spanish... as good as my Spanish may be (read: may have been at the time), it is still hard to follow the colloquialisms, you know? Anyway, it was a lot more meaningful in English. And it made me feel sappy, which is sad. I want a star to fall out of the sky--what the hell? And, for that matter, I want a developed plot line and the uncertainty of how I get to the end but an assurance that I remember exactly what the end looks like and that I will get there because I've already seen it... just in a different language. I'm not even gonna try to fix that sentence. I'm tired.

Which got me to thinking about another idea I was seriously considering earlier this week. I was staring at my computer screen at work, and then I remembered being in the French countryside... riding my bike to the baker in the morning to pick up baguette... the stone fence surrounding the house... the chateaux along the Charente (I think?)... the narrow, stone roads... the abandoned monastery...

I want to be a baker in France... or Switzerland... The problem is that I don't speak French or German. So maybe Spain? But then how would the mechanics of it all work to get me out there, you know? I mean, there's getting the plane tickets, getting out there and having enough money to either start renting an apartment or live in a youth hostel, getting a job, getting on my feet enough to support myself, getting the paperwork to have the ability to legally work there. I would be an apprentice to a baker--waking up early in the morning, seeing the immediate benefit of my product to its consumers... I really wouldn't have much money at all, but life would be sincere and grounded, quiet and unimpressive but fulfilling. The whole thing would be an adventure.

And spending my life in the countryside of some (Spanish-speaking) European town would inevitably set my life on a course for lifelong joy and happiness, fulfilled dreams...

right...

The funny thing is that I'm captivated by the idea. It is completely unrealistic. Captivating.

Too many daydreams. What about the ranch-style house on the East coast? The white towel and the early morning?

On a happier note, I totally called the market. Lucky? Maybe. I could get tens of millions for that. Maybe I'll shoot for a few good calls and then go apprentice a baker...

Or maybe I'll keep telling myself that for a handful of decades before I die.

Hoping and Leaping--what did I tell you? But I'm not ready to take some of those leaps.

(Untitled)

Just have to say that 'Family Guy' is on tv. Even if the world as I know it is coming to an end, 'Family Guy' can make it all better.

Heartbreak World

It's so hard to post regularly without my own computer...

That's my excuse, and I'm stickin to it.

It's amazing how fast time goes by when you get in a routine. I can't believe that school was out for four months. I can't believe that the holidays really aren't that far away. It seems like we could get so much stuff done in a day when we were little kids. The summer felt like a year--each school year was separated by a huge chasm. And now? Now life seems to kind of blend together.

But it isn't a bad thing. Getting older has meant having the world shrink a bit, being exposed to different people and cultures and countries.

Anyway, I'm not really feeling that trip down nostalgic lane. I do have a funny story, though. You know how you "help" little kids pray by whispering what to say? We were at dinner the other day, and my sister was helping my niece (who is three) pray. "We're grateful for this food..."

Niece: "We're grateful for this food..."

Sister: "Please bless it-"

Niece: "Please bless it THAT IT CAN FLY!"

Hahahahaha. I couldn't stop laughing. She was so excited about flying food. Unfortunately, that prayer wasn't answered. I think it was from seeing Harry Potter.

And what else? I realized the other day that I need to relax about the whole getting out of shape thing. I use the phrase very loosely, as it means that I'm going from skinny/toned to mostly skinny but still kinda toned. Wanting to be in shape is not a problem, but sometimes I catch myself thinking that it's the only way that anyone is ever going to be interested in me. There is more to me than that. Granted, it's important to take care of your body and everything, but I need to get over unrealistic expectations.

I should try to get fat just to get myself over my looks. The problem is that I've made sincere efforts to do so in the past. The best I did was gain 20 lbs of muscle--not too shabby, right? I still wasn't fat... and then it all atrophied because I could not afford to eat that much when I was away at school.

Holy crap. You do not want to hear about that, I'm guessing.

Last thing--I met this girl through one of my friends at school. The three of us kinda talked and stuff... whatever. Anyways, he called me up the other day and was like, "Dude, this girl is way into you. She asked me what she had to do to help you be interested in her?"

How am I supposed to handle that? She was way cool--don't get me wrong. But it makes a super awkward situation because I'm not interested for a lot of reasons I don't want to explain to him... and then I have to try to act like I'm interested or flattered or something. I dunno. Or my the daughter of one of my mom's friends--my mom is like, "She's cute and tall..." And then I met her, and her voice sounded exactly like Violet's (that's her name, right?) in "The Incredibles." I wanted to jam a chopstick in my ear.

AND THEN, my home teachers wanted to set me up with their niece.

Holy hell, people! Give it a rest! I apparently can't date gay people (who I have a LOT better chance of being attracted to), so stepping outside of my gender of interest is probably too much of a stretch.

I just need to be single and reserved until I can take decisive actions without giving someone emotional whiplash. Granted, I think I'm doomed to be confusing and confused, fregado y fregando jaja--I just remembered that; but at least I can arrive at a time and place where the whiplash will be minimal, non-fatal... just the kind where you wake up the next morning with a stiff neck and maybe go to the chiropractor once or twice to get taken care of.

This blog is a horrible mess. You're the best for putting up with me. Don't worry--you're getting a generous amount of brownie points for reading this crap. And I'm not easy with my brownie points, so count yourself lucky.

Good Life

I'm kinda starting to like OneRepublic.

I'm watching my niece and nephew with my mom right now. It makes me realize that I really would like a family of my own, but it also makes me wonder if I'm cut out to be a dad?

Sometimes, I really value quiet, alone time. Mornings, for example--I'm really confused when I wake up and end up getting mad (no matter how hard I try) if I get talked to too much. After I've showered and had a little time to remember who I am and what I'm doing, I'm good to go. But waking up to a crying baby or screaming kids?

But it is also one of the most meaningful and beautiful things we can do.

Yes, I will have a family. I'll find someone who can put up with me for the rest of our lives, and then we'll navigate the minefield of parenthood together, hoping and praying we can stumble through raising kids who love themselves and those around them.

Speaking of loving other people...

I think Glenn Beck may be the spawn of satan, or satan incarnate. I read in the news about his rally to reclaim the civil rights movement on the anniversary of the "I have a dream" speech.

What the hell? Is this guy for real? Every time I hear something about him or Palin, it makes me want to eat my brain.

Anyway, I should actually go make sure these kids stay alive.

Let Love In

I think me and pandora are starting to be friends, again.


I actually had a completely different post that was almost finished and just hadn't been posted. Thought I would try to start it over, again... something about it didn't seem like it was sincere.


There have been a number of posts that I've written and never posted. Not sure what got me started on it, but I checked out some of the unpublished posts I had written. This one was from the beginning of July:


I  am in limbo now more than ever. 

It's hard for me to type this up and make it coherent. The thought exists in my head, but transferring it to the keyboard is more difficult than I was hoping. After starting and erasing this several times, let's hope I can make this one count. 

I don't know how to handle everything with the church and whatever. Give me a second, and let's see if this will make sense in the end. I've pretty much decided (which I know I've already mentioned) that there is an expiration date for my church membership. I'm not sad about that. But that seems like it should provoke some type of spiritual distancing from the Church, from the Gospel as it stands in the Church... and, while that was happening to me for a while, the opposite has started happening. I mean, I'm not actively pursuing the Church outside of regular church attendance, but callings, service opportunities, etc; keep finding their way into my life. I feel too bad to say "no," especially if it is the elders... since I remember how much of a pain it was sometimes to get the members to help out.

And so I find myself with no intentions of being actively active (if that makes any sense) in the church, yet in my state of indifference, the church pulls me back into it. 

It's limbo. I'm not making any sense, I know. I just want there to be definitive borders and boundaries and procedures and norms, unchanging resolutions, finality, something. If I quit going to church, there would be no more going back to BYU, so that really isn't an option. But I'd just like to continue in my active but separated state... and I don't know how... I can't go back--can't rekindle that spiritual feeling because it hurt so much to have it. The occasional stinging is a far cry from the initial wound of separating and redefining. To go back and face the intense pain, again, would drive me crazy.

I'm not sure really how to follow up on that. I don't feel depressed or frustrated or anything, but something about the post resonated (maybe 'cuz I wrote it) within me, so I felt like I should actually publish it.

Summer is coming to an end. Remember how that felt when we were in elementary school? I mean, I'm still not graduated... so the feeling remains, to a certain extent. But I remember walking down to the lake with my siblings. The water would be warm, but you could tell the days were getting shorter, and there was something in the air that made it start to smell like fall... riding around with the other neighborhood kids on the golf cart, seeing the sea of fireflies across the yards, feeling some sense of anticipation for new classes, new teachers, new faces, knowing that change was inevitably coming.

I liked those times. Memories of my freshman year, my mission...

I'm hoping that I can manage to work hard for something in my life without working so hard that it becomes the only thing I can remember...

Give me a couple months before you ask me how that's going ;)

Viva La Vida

I will be better about posting.

It was so hot for so long here. Now, it's actually turned back into the kind of summer I remember and love about being here. Granted, it is humid, but I've learned to appreciate it.

When I was little, I used to freak out in the heat. Seriously. My parents would have to open all of the car doors and let some of the heat out, turn the car on to get the air conditioner started, and I'd always be the last one in. Apparently someone missed the memo that I was supposed to be born into a family with millions and a chauffeur...

And then I was absolutely convinced that I was going to go somewhere cold on my mission--Vermont or Canada or Russia or something. Imagine my surprise, then, when I got called to the hottest place I've ever been to in my life. I'll never forget receiving a welcome letter from the mission president after I got my call. "The weather," it read, "is hot and humid during the spring, summer, and fall. It is warm and humid in the winter." Kinda funny, in hindsight... Three seasons of hell on earth. One season to fool you into stickin around...

the point being that now I have an iron will in the heat and humidity and find myself cold when the weather dips below 70.

Anyway, the guy from forever ago is pushing his way back into my life. I've gotta be honest--those feelings aren't there anymore. I tried to remember what it was like... convinced I couldn't feel any other way. I still care about him, but in a completely platonic way, you know? sounds stupid. I've already talked about this, though.

And me? my life has contracted to a 20-mile radius involving my family, work, and the occasional time with some friends from high school. It's nice. I still haven't changed my mind about looking elsewhere for a job, but it's kind of nice for me to be reminded that they'll always be here for me.

I mean, back to this guy... I know--I'm sorry. You can just skip to the end, but I'm not going to be able to do my point justice if I don't do a little explaining. It seemed like there were points in time where I just really needed to be reminded that I'm ok, you know? that everything's going to be ok. Not like my life revolves around intense drama and existential confusion, but in the randomness of life, I'm bound to run into a few bad days in a row, you know?

And during these times where I really just wanted someone to listen and let me know things were going to be ok, he wasn't there... or worse, he was there and aloof. Made me feel kinda shitty.

Don't get me wrong--I don't like to be babied. I'm hoping you understand what I'm getting at.

Anyway, I appreciate that things are different with my family. I know that there are people out there who would treat me just as well, too; I'm just glad that I have a whole family (nearly... but we won't get into that) of those people. They don't baby me or anything, but they listen, which is I guess what I appreciate the most.

It makes me feel safe. It makes me not afraid of bad days.

Well, that's enough of that. Sorry I disappeared. I'm hoping that something I say can serve some useful purpose in your life... sometimes, I feel like I vomit onto a keyboard and then send it off into cyberspace, you know?

Word vomit.

Mean Girls, anyone?

I'd go straight for Lindsey Lohan.

or Paris Hilton, for that matter...

If You See Kay

Well, blog, it has been a while, hasn't it?

What can I update you on? First, my laptop really is dead beyond resurrection, so I'm confined to parents' laptops and desktops... but I actually kind of like it. I mean, I can't use it as much, so I've actually started reading books more... doing other stuff... I guess... haha

There was a period of intense questioning there for a bit as to whether or not I was actually doing the best thing by being here. But everything has been working out excellently. Granted, I wasn't really looking forward to dropping money on a new laptop, but life goes on.

What am I trying to say? I've got a limited amount of time, and I'm trying to make it count. I think the pressure is making my brain shut down.

In the thick of it, it's kinda hard to trust in the fact that it's going to work out ok. Divine guidance, good luck, karma, whatever the hell it is is kinda hard to trust in... but I can trust in the fact that I've made it work up to this point, that even the crappiest situations can open doors to opportunities and experiences and blessings that I wouldn't have expected.

What I'm trying to get at is that I think I need to place more importance on my ability to survive and improve than on the alignment of stars and guidance of divine hands... no, I don't read my horoscope, but you get the point that I'm trying to make.

Or maybe not.

I just can't write when I feel rushed.

The important thing was that I pushed past what I was comfortable with and, in doing so, found that my 'limit' extends beyond what I thought myself capable of, that I did my best to make the best of a situation that I had questions about. And, as it turns out, the best that I did was better than what I was expecting.

Acoustic #3

It's by the Goo Goo Dolls. Definitely worth checking out, I think.

First things first, I have no laptop. Yeah... it's a really long story (and one that hurts to tell) that ends with my beloved Macbook air being smashed to pieces. He was a good little buddy. We had some pretty sweet adventures together, and one final, not-sweet adventure. I really wasn't wanting to drop money on another laptop anytime soon, but we'll see how long I can go that way.

What did I want to sign on here to say?

Everything was crashing down on me yesterday. I literally felt like my world was falling apart. Demands and deadlines and failures and losses (like my laptop) and fights--they all converged upon a hellish 20-some hours. My first instinct was to blame it on the judgment of God... second was obstacle of Satan...

Then, I thought, "to hell with this."

I can't understand what actions or inactions incur the wrath of God or wiles of satan or whatever. I've just gotta live and try my damndest to make this life worth living.

Correction...

I should probably correct myself.

Sometimes, I am amazed that I have the mental capacity to get out of bed and dress myself every morning.

I glanced at my post from yesterday and realized I am retarded. The judge overturned the gay marriage ban--the law that was discriminating against same-sex couples... whatever. You get the point. The odd thing is that it did not register as the exact opposite of what I wanted to say when I was writing it. I was just in a hurry to get everything out of my head as fast as possible and didn't catch my mistake until now. I actually read and understood the article. I promise.

But there you go. Go judges.

Suspension

I feel like I've done too much eating and sitting these past couple weeks. Everyone in my family will be gone on random vacations through the end of next week, so I'm thinking I can take the chance to establish some kind of routine, again. It's hard enough to keep any muscle when I'm actively working out, and the "sitting at a desk all day" thing isn't helping.

My car is pretty much dying. It's kinda sad. There's one more thing that's getting fixed, and I hope that takes care of the problem for a while... or I need to start working on getting a new car. Thankfully, my dad has been footing the repair bill. I seriously owe him and my stepmom the world for how much they've done for me. I know they don't expect anything in return, but it would be nice to be able to return the favor at some point.

Anyway, my stepmom was driving me to work the other day, and she was talking about how she sometimes takes the "bus only" roads downtown because it's faster. "I don't feel bad about breaking the rules," she said. "It's not like I'm killing anyone." It made me laugh. And I kinda respect that. Maybe I'll give it a try. My stepmom is pretty freakin sweet.

The other disjointed part of my story is about an article I saw in the newspaper the other day. It was talking about how a judge struck down a law banning discrimination of same-sex couples. The other part of the article had quotes from various "traditional family" activists. I realized that their arguments really had no substance to them.

I realize I kinda like being gay... in a masochistic kinda way... well, I'm not into whips and stuff... I'm not sure I like the approach I'm taking

It's not like I wander through my days in complete acceptance of the situation as it stands, but there is something about confronting this wall--immovable, steadfast. I can pound and scream and kick and persuade and plead, but the wall remains unchanged, the barrier between me and a landscape I can only picture... a life I will never enjoy. But it's forced me to accept the ugly. In a world where I am a firm believer that we have absolute control over our destiny, I find one piece that I have not been able to break down.

And in the process, it has smoothed my jagged edges, forced me to turn back from the wall and take in the landscape that I've blindly ignored- a landscape that, as it turns out, seems pretty beautiful in and of itself. I realize that it is exclusive in its own right, that someone stands on the other side of that same wall with only the vaguest understanding of what lies on the other side. Our communications and conjectures will be biased, can be marked by fear and judgement of the different and unknown.

I don't know if that wall will ever be broken down. I doubt I will ever be able to completely understand a straight person's point of view, and I doubt they will ever understand my situation.

But I do know that being gay has made me a nicer person.

And I hope the people who speak out in righteous indignation will encounter their own concrete walls to smooth their jagged edges... or find their way underneath my car's wheels... just kidding...

And, most of all, I hope that when I find the man I want to spend the rest of my life with, we'll have the same rights as couples across all landscapes, walls, and understandings.

The First One

I don't understand my Pandora station. I think it may have hit menopause or something because it has seemed awfully moody: pouring salt in my wounds when I'm feeling crappy, playing so many songs that I dislike (consecutively, mind you) that I use up all of my "skips" on the station, hot flashes, the usual, you know?

Maybe we should part ways for a little bit?

The past few days have been a huge improvement. I'm trying to come to grips with the situation all over again, and I think the effort may be a successful one.

I guess Monday was kinda the tipping point for me. Anyways, nothing can ever (or will ever, for that matter) happen with this kid, and the guy will pretty much not have a way to contact me for another month or so. Phew. Getting over this kid and steeling myself to shut down the situation with the guy before he gets the wrong impression: two monumental accomplishments that are in the making. Cross your fingers for me.

Not to mention the fact that it is a long weekend, and there is no work for me on Monday... well, no official work, but I will have to go in and take care of some stuff. I can do that in jeans, though, and at my leisure.

It's good. The drama is dying down. You probably wouldn't be able to tell from this blog, but I really try not to be dramatic... but it has to come out somewhere; and, lucky for you, that happens to be this blog.

I also get to work in the nursery at Church, making it a billion times more enjoyable. I don't have to go to EQ, for one, and I get to hang out with some pretty hilarious little kids. They get snack time--what the heck?! Why don't we do that in EQ? I think part of the reason I hate it is because it's the last hour that stands between me and the refrigerator. I start to get kinda angry (and dizzy) when I'm hungry. Is that weird? Anyway, nursery is sweet.

I wish there was something meaningful to tell you on here, but I guess this is the end. Fireworks are tonight (if it stops raining), and I may actually try to do something to get back in shape tomorrow. Happy fourth. You should probably celebrate this special day by watching one of the best movies ever made: Team America: World Police. If that's not patriotic, I don't know what is.

Better Days

My pandora station is not making me feel better.

I think this is gonna be one of those "type the crazy out and never post" kinda posts. We have a natural inclination to be consistent, I learned in one of my classes... not really big news, but it was verifying. That probably explains the reason why I feel like shit every time I "take a step backwards." How can I have so much resolution in one moment and then seemingly lose it all in the next?

I gotta cut myself some slack, I know. I'm just having trouble. The perfectionist in me is sometimes less rehabilitated than I'd like to think.

It's just that I have my secret weapon of staying super busy... not so secret... and then the moment I have free time, down time, it all catches up to me. "It'll work out," I keep telling myself. The farther I get, the less I've done, the more I have to do, the more I feel like I'm failing at so many things.

But my afan (I'm sorry. It's Spanish. Look it up. I promise I'm not being a tool. It's the best word I can come up with, and I don't want to pull out my dictionary) to accomplish all of this stuff is negated by the fact that I can't profess confidence and a belief in my capabilities if I spend those same moments ensuring that I'm hiding the defective parts of me. Yeah, I mean it when I say that I've stopped caring about being gay. But I haven't stopped caring about where I want to get, and it'd be tricky (read: impossible) to navigate that if I'm open about being gay. Getting out of school will help; until then, I've got to find a way to make this work.

And then the guy is throwing himself at me. Where were you six months ago? I can't bring myself to feel it anymore. And this other kid is (unintentionally or otherwise) tugging at my heartstrings in the worst way possible.

And I find myself listing the reasons why this can't work out. The echo of my credo slowly dies, but I cling, wondering if I am strong or foolish.

Not to feel, to temporarily forfeit the human parts of me... sounds nice... nice, but impossible.

Clinging. Here's to hope.

I'll publish it.

Half of My Heart

The honest truth is that I'm never going to be "bulky" muscular.

Having said that, I just spent most of the day digging and hauling 80-lbs blocks in awkward positions. It's not going to make me bulky, but it definitely gets me in shape. And I got a little tanner. The day was a complete success...

It was supposedly 105-degree heat index out there. All I can say is that after my mission, I have never, ever felt hot. Biking in an oven--that's what it was. Steaming, biking, baking... doing yard work in a shirt and tie. It was like being in hell, I think. Granted, I also had the most delicious food of my life being constantly shoved down my throat at the turn of every corner. I tend to be perpetually hungry, but for those two years, I was full... and didn't gain a pound... never going to be bulky...

I was thinking, though, as I was working. I was remembering this time where my companion and I were helping some guys take down a shed/garage thing. It was so hot and humid; giant cockroaches were crawling out from under the piles of rubble. "You may be white," one of them told me, "but you work hard like a Mexican. I didn't believe you were actually going to be able to do anything to help."

If he weren't Mexican, I might not have felt complimented.

But that's not the point I'm trying to make. I give myself a lot of crap for the person that I'm not. I find myself wondering why I'm not the aggressive, confrontational, confident kid I used to be. I give myself crap for feeling shy sometimes...

But that confident kid was also lazy, proud, an elitist, an asshole. That kid wouldn't have actually been able to do anything to help. That kid would have never offered to begin with.

I can, in no way, consider myself fully formed or transformed or oriented or rehabilitated or whatever the hell it is called. But I have changed, and it has been for the better. I guess I should focus on that a little more.

Me and the Moon

You know what? I don't actually have any plans for tonight. I think it's kinda sweet. As I sit here, I'm thinking about things that I should probably take care of in my free time, but it is so hard to get motivated to do any of it. Maybe the motivation will come to me... later...

I came home yesterday to find my dad doing some landscaping stuff outside. "Landscaping stuff" may not paint an accurate picture, since it can get kinda intense here--building retaining walls, grinding stumps, etc. My dad never pays anyone for that kind of stuff. He's always had the money for it, and it used to drive me crazy that we didn't just pay someone instead of having to do it ourselves. In hindsight, I'm glad he took the time to teach us self-reliance, independence... all that good stuff.

But I digress. I felt super crappy when I got home--didn't feel like doing anything at all, you know? I'm glad he was outside working because going out and helping him made me feel better.

As for everything else, my thoughts are too jumbled to come out as anything coherent. We could go "stream of consciousness" style, but I would probably have a seizure trying to reread it. My life is going to be ok--I just need to remind myself of that sometimes.

If We Ever Meet Again

I'm hoping that we can just go back to the way things were in Thursday's post...

Bear with me, here.

I'm just having a brief freak-out in which I'm wondering if I made the right choice to commit to being here and working for an extended period of time. I'm worried that it isn't going to be fulfilling, I'm worried that I'm going to want to kill my parents, I'm worried that there is some part of life that is somehow passing me up by my being so far removed from what I consider to be "the world."

It's not a big deal. It shouldn't be, at least. So why do I find myself feeling like I might have made the wrong choice?

I guess there was something in today that unearthed feelings I thought I had laid to rest with an attempt to fully embrace reality. There are so many reasons why this decision was the right one, but I'm missing Provo. I miss being in a place where I new I wasn't the sole member of a moho community... even though I didn't participate in it, it was still nice to know that there were other guys walking around campus who were dealing with these same things. It's pretty safe to say that there's none of that here.

Maybe I should just work on myself for right now. Maybe it's a good thing that I am removed from the BYU community...

Or maybe I'm going to reach a point where I reach every goal I set only to realize I was aiming in the wrong direction. And we're back to it: leaping into the darkness--leaping and hoping we land on solid ground. I guess that maybe there's something to be said for embracing the unknown. In the end, I guess I we are better people for leaping into the darkness and falling than cowering in the dimly lit circle of what is familiar and (if we are lucky) comfortable.

Although it seems like I've been managing to land on uneven ground in areas that I crave stability and surety, the cuts and bruises and scars inevitably make me feel alive.

So I'll tell you what- I'm gonna grow an effin pair and push on.

I'm also going to brush my teeth, wash my face, and go to bed. Things always look better in the daylight.

Where We Gonna Go From Here

I heard from the guy, again. I'm not so mad anymore at him. Granted, there are definitely no feelings for him, but at least I don't feel mad when he texts or calls or e-mails. Maybe I can change, after all. It's strange how I was completely convinced that I would never be over him. I guess I still love the guy, but in a platonic way, you know? Does that even make sense? It sounds kinda like the cliché "I love you, but I'm not in love with you" thing, but I mean it.

Anyway, I don't think that was the reason I got on here. In fact, I'm not entirely sure what the reason was. I guess I just wanted to get my thoughts out of my head. I helped my parents plant a bunch of crap tonight. Coming home from work and doing yardwork may sound kinda crappy, but I actually enjoy the change from sitting at my desk. And I don't want to become a lazy sack.

The yard has been under construction for the past year, and it's about time to finish all of these projects. I took off before I had the chance to see some of the projects to completion, and my dad started other ones, so I'm going to help pick them off, one by one, while I'm here.

And I found out I'll probably be making less money than I thought at work, but I can deal with it. It'll still be enough to pay my student loans twice over, so if I go gettin killed in any car accidents in the near future, at least my family won't be stuck paying off my loans.

My life has felt a lot more manageable lately. I got that test and everything out of the way, and now I just have to worry about waking up on time, you know? No looming deadlines that are going to permanently alter my future, nothing unpredictable in my schedule... It's really nice. Granted, I don't have much of a social life, but at least I have to talk to my family and people at work, so I'm not turning into an awkward recluse... I think...

But I'm rambling about nothing. I'm doing good. Really. I still sometimes wish I could snag a significant other, but I know that it isn't the right time; and, even if I did, I wouldn't be able to devote the time and attention that they'd deserve... unless they want to throw around 80-lbs blocks and dig holes and stuff. I can be confident that everything will turn out fine because everything has turned out fine up to this point.

The Man Who Can't Be Moved

I need to figure out where this blogging thing fits into my schedule.

You know what I've got a weakness for? Guys in beat-up trucks... or beat-up SUVs... wearing baseball caps. And no shirt. "What the hell?" you're probably wondering... I don't know...

Things have been super busy. I'm looking at picking up another job and actually applied to it and everything. That would bring me up to a 70-80 hour workweek. I just want to feel like I'm doing something productive. And I just want to get as much work experience as possible to put on my resume. I feel like that is my weakest point at this moment in time, but I'm doing everything I can to fix that.

And there isn't much else for me to do here. So why not? Not to mention the fact that I'd like to earn as much money as possible. School will be cheaper since I don't have to worry about tuition, so it's not like I'm facing destitution or anything... but I guess I'm kinda weird with money: I like having it way more than I like spending it.

I also think I'm starting to snap out of the "not wanting to be single right now" thing, too. I can't actively seek it right now, you know? Anyway, working a lot makes it too hard for me to worry about that stuff; therefore, I don't. I also feel kind of empowered when I throw myself into something in spite of the fact that I'd like to mope around.

I'm feeling comfortable, again, with the fact that everything in my life has been turning out really well. And it's probably a good thing I'm single because anyone I'd be dating would feel neglected. It'll work out when it's supposed to, I know. So I'll move ahead and be grateful for how well life has turned out.

Crazy 8s

Guess the blogging hiatus was unplanned. What is there to tell you?

My summer break has officially begun... just in time to start working... but what can you do? First of all, I'm so poor that I really have to work. And it's about time. I don't even really remember what it's like to have a job, and every time I look at my resume, I'm reminded of how pathetic that is. But no more.

What else?

I'm feeling the pull of the church. I thought I had severed the emotional ties, but they're creeping back. I've been going this whole time, but I felt kinda unplugged, you know? Anyway, one of my friends has been taking the discussions and everything. I went with the missionaries to a lesson and started feeling the stuff I used to feel.

I was thinking about it yesterday in the car. What would I say? What would I tell my friend after I help her into the Gospel and then proceed to leave it?

I'm not willing to live a life of neglect and loneliness on the belief that it will prepare me to live the opposite life in the eternities. It's hard for me to believe that I can find true happiness there if I can't find it here. So I'll do the best I can with what I have, and I won't have any regrets about it.

It's hard to type when I'm groggy.

Break Your Heart

The song's so dang catchy.

And did you watch Glee this week? 'Cuz I'm pretty sure I love that show. I'm not a giant Lady Gaga fan, but the episode was pretty sweet.

I feel like I should have something important to write on here, but I really don't. I'm in the process of trying to figure out where I want to work when I graduate. The good news is that I definitely will have a job in what I want to do... It was looking pretty questionable for a bit. Granted, the sucky economy didn't help very much; but, barring the current volatility due to the fact that Greece seems to move from the edge of destruction to a safe footing on an hourly basis, things are looking a lot better. But the volatility can also be a good thing if you can keep a cool head.

BUT you're not here 'cuz you want to learn economics. The point of the story is that I'm just trying to get in with the company with the best reputation. I just keep reminding myself that that's a lot better of a problem than I could have.

And what else? I got to spend some quality time with my siblings this past weekend. I forget how much I love them. I mean, I would love them no matter what, but I forget how much I like spending time with them. They're friends.

It reminds me that even if they did know I'm gay, it wouldn't really change anything with us. It really wouldn't change anything with any of my family. I can't begin to say how grateful I am for that. I've never had to face the fear of being thrown out and disowned, of having love conditional upon my ability to conform, to change what, at this point in my life, seems completely unchangeable. They will be here, they'll still love me, we'll still be friends.

I feel safe.

Never Ready To Leave

I've got this frustrating thing where I can't stop watching a show or movie without knowing what happens.

It's not that uncommon, I know. But seriously--have you ever watched 'Brothers and Sisters?' First of all, waaaaay too much drama. Seriously. It's like everyone's epic family fights all mashed into one family and lived out consecutively. It's a horrible mess. But (and this is just an example. I watched all of the first two seasons in a week and was caught all the way up to the present. I haven't watched it since and don't want to be hooked, again. This was a really long parenthetic comment) I couldn't stop myself from watching.

Or "The Riddle." Hands down the gayest (and not in the good way) movie I've ever seen in my entire life. If you ever get the chance, it might be worth it to watch it. It was so bad that it was almost impressive.

Or CSI or Bones or Law and Order--although these are good shows. So I've gotten into the habit of just finding out the name of the episode and looking up a summary on the internet. Or looking up summaries of the entire season. I can get the closure I want without investing an entire hour (or week) and then accidentally getting hooked on another episode before I muster the willpower to turn off the TV.

Where was I going with that? Oh yeah: I'm sad I just watched TV for three hours. I feel like my life has wasted away. On the bright side, I put in a solid six hours of studying, so I guess this day can't be chalked up as a complete loss.

I had plans to come out to my little sister. I'm glad I didn't. I've made this closet nice and homey, so why be in a rush? I should at least graduate. Since I'm not gettin' any sugar while I'm at school, there's no point in adding another unnecessary (albeit honest and barrier-shattering and humanizing) dimension to my life? But I was thinking about it. Maybe we've already talked about this?

I feel like my family sees me as the "good" kid, you know? I mean, not to say that I'm not good... but just not especially so, you know? And they make jokes about it and whatever, but they're kinda serious jokes. What am I getting at? I'd just like to ease 'em into it. Once I graduate, I will have my own job in a different city and be a separate person, and I think I will be more comfortable at that point. I dunno. It's kinda hard to explain.

I just don't want to experience all of that with the awkwardness of either living with them or being at school after having told them. I just wish they'd stop seeing me as the "good" one... not that I should be the "bad" one, either; but, hey, we've all got shit to get together, right?

Haven't Met You Yet

Nope, I haven't met you yet.

But if you come across this, and a ranch-style, pottery barn/restoration house and a kitchen full of Williams Sonoma's finest, along with me in a white towel rings a bell, we should probably meet soon... because we'll have to start saving for the next couple decades to actually get that stuff. I'm just looking for a decent, warm, comfortable place... not crazy ornate/ostentatious or whatever. And I love eating (and must cook to eat) more than most other things in life, which is why I could spend a life's savings at Williams Sonoma.

But that's not what I'm here to talk about. In fact, it's kinda funny I should start my post off like that. So maybe I should be clear: My parents are divorced. One makes a lot of money, and the other makes a very modest amount. The things that I value in a home can be present regardless of the amount of money being brought in or can be absent no matter how much money there is. I value warmth, safety, emotional nourishment (haha and physical... seriously, I love eating so much), which is why my wish-list starts there, although those companies do not have a monopoly on those core values.

Does that make sense? In short, I promise I'm not as materialistic as I'm coming off...

Screeching brakes, squealing tires, change of direction.

Because my dad just got back from a trip to Haiti. He was going through the pictures (so. many.) from the trip. This sounds super cliché or whatever, but as he was going through it, I was actually looking at what the quality of life was there. I mean, the earthquake certainly didn't help anything out, but these people had very little to begin with. I mean, when I was a kid, I built forts nicer than some of their houses. At the same time, they weren't wandering around, sad-faced and downtrodden because of the long list of things that they didn't have.

And me? I'm worrying about working for the company that is going to compensate me the best, taking for granted the fact that I will be hired by someone and won't have to worry about food, shelter--the necessities. Me and Haiti have a very different list of wants; granted, Haiti also has needs that should be filled. But, in the way of wants, checking off the things on that list would only lead to filling those blank spaces with a new set of wants.

The point? Maybe I should wait to check Pottery Barn and Williams Sonoma of the list because I'm afraid of what's going to take their places.

As for Haiti, I'm inspired by their capacity to adapt and find happiness, even in the bleakest of circumstances.