The Falcon and the Hedgehog

I can feel it!

2008-11-04T19:17:00.000-08:00

We CAN do amazing things in this country. Come strip naked with me and dance in the streets. We'll march up to the White House and cheer and cheer. Do you know what we should use to get old white man smell out of carpets?

They shed. Boy do they shed.

2008-11-01T13:04:00.001-07:00

Help me clean up after the tree please.

Newest art obsession

2008-10-31T08:45:00.000-07:00

Tara Donovan is amazing. And not just because she won a 2008 McArthur genius grant. She takes the ordinary (styrofoam cups, plastic straws, pins, etc) and creates wonderfully organic sculpture. Taking something that is so manufactured and utilitarian and making it into something that breathes and lives on it's own is astounding.

She was the inspiration for my very amateurish cups sculpture.

I'll get there one day...

Were the world mine

2008-10-30T18:03:00.000-07:00

The power of Shakespeare's words is that even a few lines meant to be spoken by a comic character like Bottom have power, resonance and, when set to music, can hit your very core so hard you don't even realize you're crying until it's dripped off your chin.

And I will sing that they shall hear that I am not, I am not afraid.

Yawns, stretches, mmmm that was a nice nap

2008-10-30T07:44:00.000-07:00

I have been so lax about my blogging. If I tried really hard I could justify it with some feel good stories or an anecdote of being too busy "finding who I am" or some other bullshit. But I'm lazy so I won't. To catch you up at least, here's what I've been up to during my break.

- Been to NYC twice (and thus had my heart broken and stomped on twice-that city has an abusive husband hold on me)
- Found my calling in graphic design (not that you could tell from my shitty looking blog)
- Found my other calling in art, specifically sculpture
- Been to the dentist a total of 6 times, my own personal holocaust
- Discovered who my friends really are and who in my family actually cares about me thanks to Prop. 8
- Made some killer quinoa and chicken and dumplings at least once
- Been accused of looking "too gay" because i was wearing my sparkley starred Chucks
- Got to be in a video with some fancy people - much love [title of show]!
- Made homemade puzzles with my nieces and nephew - cool uncle strikes again
- And many other fascinating adventures

So I'm not gonna promise I'll be better at posting. I can't make that promise BUT I can promise that I'll be here more frequently so that all 6 of you who have read my blog can read it again. Future installments will include: mandatory rant on Prop 8, being gay in lynchburg and art, art and more art.

Here's that fancy person video, I'm Please-

7 of them = 1 of me

2008-05-23T11:15:00.000-07:00

Beware the bean burrito....

2008-05-20T06:03:00.000-07:00

No matter how hungry you are. No matter how desperate the situation may seem. And no matter how scrumdillyumptous it may sound, after 10:30 at night Taco Bell is never, Ever, EVER (and I can't stress this enough) a good idea.

Why in the world did I think that consuming melty cheese and tons of fire sauce (mixed with mild for flava) would help me drift off into sleepy land? Why in the world did I think I would then have pink tinged, puffy cloud, rainbow-filled dreams? Why in the world did I ever consider myself an intelligent person??

Wandering around

2008-05-10T18:09:00.001-07:00

It was Peter Gallagher.mp3

Read your prescription labels!

2008-05-10T18:08:00.003-07:00

Sensory overload at MOMA.mp3

Snotty kids

2008-05-10T18:08:00.001-07:00

In line at TKTS.mp3

I hate rules.

2008-05-10T18:05:00.001-07:00

Careful. This might make you sleepy.

The Big Yawn Challenge.mp3

Real New Yorkers

2008-05-10T17:57:00.001-07:00

It was actually for the Notorious B.I.G. biopic.

How you know you're a real New Yorker 2.mp3

I'm your recommended daily amount

2008-05-10T17:52:00.001-07:00

Thanks for reminding me, Leesh.

Everyone loves a cliche!.mp3

I'm so not a tourist.

2008-05-10T17:46:00.001-07:00

I love giving directions! It always gives me a jolt of "see, I AM a good person."

How you know you're a real New Yorker.mp3

I know we sound like chipmunks!

2008-05-10T17:36:00.001-07:00

Yeah, I'm aware we sound like chipmunks. I'm trying to fix it. In the meantime, just click on the link of the audio file and it should play normally.

Human Rights Torch relay.mp3

Arrival in NY

2008-05-10T15:14:00.001-07:00

First of all, i have to say that I never realized how gay I actually sound. It's amazing I got away with hiding my sexuality all these years.

Secondly, I sound way way way too excited for a person who just got off a bus after a 7 hour ride.

Arrival in NY.mp3

The Sounds of my New York trip

2008-05-10T15:09:00.001-07:00

I recently came back from a trip to New York City with my friend Alisha. It was way fun and instead of taking pictures, I decided to take audio recordings. So i bought a little digital recorder from Target and had some fun with it.

We took a bus from Richmond to NYC. Here was us getting on the bus at 1:00am.

Chinatown bus 1.mp3

Caution wet paint

2008-04-17T08:56:00.000-07:00

I'm changing the look of my blog! And learning Html finally! Be careful where you lean, you might ruin your shirt.

The Kleenex of Babylon

2008-04-16T14:06:00.000-07:00

Laurel Leader Criticized for Chastity Object Lesson
By Peter_Mary

SODA SPRINGS, ID—Local Laurel Advisor Judy Comstock of the Soda Springs 5th Ward says she’s tired of hearing the complaints by angry young women and their parents after an object lesson she used in her Laurel lesson apparently fell flat.

“It’s a real challenge to keep these girls interested in the lesson,” complained Comstock when asked about the object lesson gone awry. “Especially when it comes to chastity, it’s not like these girls haven’t heard it all before. They’ve seen the rose with all the petals pulled off. They’ve seen the bread with the butter licked off. They’ve seen the nail pounded in a board. I thought the hankie idea was a fresh, new way to make an old point.”

The lesson began when Comstock carefully removed a clean, white handkerchief from a box, and explained that, “this hankie is like your virtue.” When she asked the girls to blow their noses in it and pass it around, demonstrating that “no worthy young returned missionary would want you now,” the lesson quickly deteriorated into chaos.

“It was positively the grossest thing I have ever seen,” says Ginger Bailey, Laurel class president. “By the time that handkerchief got to me it was like totally disgusting, but Sister Comstock was like all encouraging us to blow our noses in it and pass it on. I thought for sure I was going to yak. We’re all like, ‘hello, we have standards here!’” Other class members felt the same way.

“The first girl, Whitney Snow, was like, ‘okay,’ and she just honked away and passed it on,” reports class member Deena Cooper. “After that, most of us were like, ‘no way,’ but Sister Comstock was getting all pushy, so some of the other girls did it, too. Julie Jamison left the class retching and she told me she hurled twice in the bathroom.” When asked if she herself blew her nose, Cooper quietly admitted that she had.

“Sister Comstock just made you feel like if you didn’t, you didn’t love her or something. There was like this total pressure to blow your nose. I didn’t want to, but I felt like I had to.”

Brenda Sorenson, the Young Women’s President says she witnessed the hankie metaphor, and though she was somewhat concerned about hygiene, felt the overall effect was exactly what they were looking for.

“It disturbs me that the girls seem to be struggling with this,” admits Sorenson. “Satan is so strong in this last dispensation that apparently even these poor Laurels can’t resist his awful influence. To my way of thinking, it’s a sign of spiritual wavering that the girls are offended by such plain truths. I know without a doubt that this was exactly the kind of lesson we needed,” Sorenson added, “but in hindsight, it’s probably a good thing Judy didn’t use her original object lesson, which involved toilet paper.”

The Young Women’s Presidency sent cards to all the Laurels expressing their love for each of them and asking them to kindly come back to Sister Comstock’s classes.

I wish I had written this. I wish I had a Peepstone.

Dance, sucker, DANCE!

2008-04-12T14:39:00.000-07:00

I saw Matthew Bourne's Edward Scissorhands in San Francisco. I'm not a big one for ballet. As Jerry Seinfeld said, "I've seen people on tiptoes." But I was blown away.

What made it so good? Story. Here's a choreographer who understands the need for narrative. If you're not involved in the story, if you don't care about the characters, who cares how clean that arabesque was? Technical prowess by itself doesn't impress me.

So far I've now seen Ed Scissorhands, Nutcracker!, Swan Lake and the Car Man and I just can't get enough.

If you're new to him, here's a little primer on Matthew Bourne and Nutcracker! narrated by Matthew Bourne himself.

And here's one of my favorite moments in all of his works. It's from Swan Lake.

Of course it helps that all his works are just a little bit gay...

Mormon Action Movie

2008-04-12T13:29:00.000-07:00

I read this post and am now in a Very Introspective Mood (now with Extra-Strength Tears!)

I have a feeling that my family really wants me to be one of those "faith-promoting" stories in the back of the Ensign. They want me to be stronger and just overcome being gay so I can finally get on with my life. My nice, normal, very Mormon life that they so desperately want for me.

But I'm not the action-hero who turns back the horde of enemies single-handed, saves the building from exploding, finds the secret treasure and (most importantly) gets the girl. End Scene. Roll credits.

I'm just this guy, see. I'm not stronger than most. I need the touch in the dark that I find strength and comfort in. I need to be able to take a rest from the fight. You can't expect your soldiers to struggle every minute of every day. Especially against something that is so natural, so needed, so much a part of one's soul. You can not ask them to have to, in those intimate moments, fight then as well.

My family gets to rest. They have structured support systems in and out of the church that help them along. They can have intimate relationships without having to convince themselves that holding her hand isn't all that bad. They don't have to work as hard as a gay in the church. And they know that, but they DO expect me to work harder than they have to, sacrifice more than them and stay positive about it.

I think they like the idea that there is a potential hero in their midst. A great Ensign article in the making. An inspiring story that will get repeated at Conference in between Elder Holland's heart felt sobs. Look at what a great religion we have, Amen.

Instead of asking if the church might be wrong, they would rather believe that more IS expected of me. That it is better that I be wrung dry, in a constant state of battle, going insane and alone. And that is the worst feeling of all: knowing that they love the church more than me.

Reverend Alecia - Yoga Master - Acid Connoisseur

2008-04-05T14:35:00.000-07:00

I started doing this dance and experienced a joy and feeling of enlightenment I've only experienced doing yoga, eating Godiva chocolate mousse and hearing 12 DCI corps play at the same time on the same field. Be careful, you'll grin like an idiot. (Gold metallic lame not necessary but rotating chair essential!)

I'm more of a kickball fan, myself.

2008-04-05T13:03:00.000-07:00

Ok, so I got tagged by Craig over at yes, i am. I had already replied in his comments but I realized the protocol is to post the result of my tag on my blog. Well, here it is!

1. Pick up the nearest book (at least 123 pages).
2. Turn to page 123.
3. Find the 5th sentence
4. Post the 5th sentence on your blog.
~~5. Tag 5 people.~~

She would prepare the food with them, singing her
little songs:
Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer do,
or sometimes,
You made me love you, I didn't want to do it,
I didn't want to do it.

~Neil Gaiman, from his poem Queen of Knives from his excellent collection of short stories and poems titled: Smoke and Mirrors.

(Sorry Craig, as nice and cute as you are, I'm just too lazy to do #5 right now.)

Oprah's gone too far people!

2008-04-02T14:23:00.000-07:00

I just received this harrowing news from a facebook friend who luckily invited me to join the facebook group Stop Oprah Winfrey!

Oh my! Hurry up everyone! Oprah has gone too far. Who does she think she is to believe and worship in a way different that us? How DARE she sponsor an online course on Jesus based on a book that views HIM in a different way! She has the GALL to practice her freedom of religion!!! Well, not if we have anything to do with it.

And 2 million people! That's almost half as many Mormons in the US. We can't let them catch up. Religion is above all a competition so let's remember that numbers matter people.

Oh for the day when OUR way is the only way to worship, believe and think. Did you know that at this moment, similar classes are being taught around the world!? Shocking but true. Right now, in colleges, universities, seminaries, synagogues, and temples around the world, the young and old are being taught all sorts of dogmas and beliefs that are NOT like ours.

This is the ...*snigger*... worst possible...*giggle*... thing that I have EVER...LOL! Ok, ok i can't keep it up anymore and keep a straight face. Really? A facebook group dedicated to stopping Oprah from holding a course? Well, you have fun with that. I have a bathroom to clean.

Internal, infernal dialogue

2008-03-28T13:08:00.000-07:00

A little conversation in my head goes like this:

"Self, should I resign my membership to the Church and send in the letter required to stop being a Mormon?"

"Well, what should I care about their little records? I'm not going to church and I don't believe anymore so what does it matter to me if they think I'm a member or not?"

"I never thought about it like that, self, but shouldn't I make them aware of my concerns? Shouldn't they know they've lost another gay son?"

"That's a good point, but they haven't cared about you as a gay member of the church before so why do you think they will start caring when you leave?"

"Huh, well someone has to know there are sheep leaving the fold and for what reasons!"

"Listen to me self, the church has never, I repeat, NEVER left the 99 sheep snuggled safely in the pen to go in search of the 1 sheep in peril. Why should your little bleating help things?"

"The more gay Mormons that, as you so delicately put it, bleat, the louder our voice. That way we will get heard!"

"God, you still trust them to do the right thing don't you?! After what you've been through you still want to give them the benefit of the doubt. You still want them to love you for who you are. You're such a battered wife it's ridiculous! They might have changed their minds on race and the priesthood but they won't change their minds on this. Remember that the Mormon church is above all an American church AND Americans are squeamish with anything to do with sex. Their distaste for gays runs deep."

"But I should at least send in the letter for some closure. And it'll get my name off the rolls and I'll finally be done with it. There's nothing wrong in hoping that they change. I want to believe in the goodness in people. By the way, you've got some anger issues my friend. You ought to take a look at that."

"Anger issues duly noted, thanks. You'll never "be done with it" as you so naively believe. Being a Mormon is hardwired into your head. You identify with them and their worldview. And your whole family are dyed-in-the-wool, true blue Mormons. You think that you can get away just by writing a letter? Don't fool yourself."

"Ok, ok. I'll think about this some more then. Besides, I'm too lazy to write something now. Now, who has my lithium?!"

New York, New York a helluva town.

2008-03-27T06:42:00.001-07:00

Just another reason why I NEED to move to New York.

And now, without further ado....... MRS. MOUTH!

God, if all TV was as good as New York Public Access maybe I wouldn't have to kill so many puppies.

Come and meet the Letter People

2008-02-26T11:04:00.000-08:00

WSET-TV, my local low-production quality news source, had a segment on the Ex-Gay movement last night. I listened to the amazingly anti-charismatic Jerry Falwell Jr. speak about stuff he knows nothing about. Luckily the topic was about homosexuality otherwise I would've fallen asleep right there on the elliptical machine he's that boring. They interviewed others in the Walters/King softball style of questioning. The whole segment went essentially like this: "Blah, blah, blah... gays can change. Blah, blah, blah...no they can't."

This lack of journalistic integrity infuriated me. In the crowded Jamerson YMCA I gave the TV the tallest finger salute twice and said "stupid mother fucking fuckers". That got the attention of my fellow sweathogs.

So I went to wset.com to see what kind of comments were being posted by my fellow free-thinking intelligent citizens. I've never seen so many scriptural references being lobbed back and forth in my life. It was like Sunday School with weaponry. Someone needed to stop the dogma war and I politely stepped in with this little post:

We live in a country where freedom of religion means that anyone can believe whatever and worship whomever they choose. And that is wonderful! Do whatever you wish in the name of your religion unless you harm others. When what you believe becomes detrimental or actively hurts people, no matter how willing they might be, society has a duty to step in and protect them.

Many people are commenting here with scriptural references to back up what they believe but you are arguing the wrong thing. Believe whatever you want. Interpret your holy books however you want. That's not the real problem here. Convince me that you are doing no psychological harm to these individuals. That's all I care about. I'll never convince you that gays can be made straight and you will never convince me otherwise. Just assure me that you are not harming these people. And remember, I don't share the same religion as you so quoting the bible, no matter how accurate, is not going make a good argument.

Holy Mother Loving Roller Skating Jebus. Never has the lack of an 'T made such a difference. I'm off to brush up on my Tall Teeth.

Spin it Gramps!

2008-02-20T07:27:00.000-08:00

Ever since Gordon Hinckley (Grandpa and Grand Pooba to Mormons everywhere) died, I've been trying to verbalize how I felt about him and his passing.

Since I am a little busy today, I'll let Troy Williams tell you EXACTLY how I feel.

Fond memories from Windblown Dandelion

2008-02-18T10:38:00.000-08:00

Sometimes, on days like today, I'm reminded of my time at the New Oneida commune in Northern California. There life was slow, love was free and the food always burnt.

Oh how I fondly recall when Starwhisper would gently kick me awake every morning to lick the dew off the grass while breathing in the sun's birth rays with my eyes. We would soak it in while eating his strangely piquant mushroom omelets. What amazing sights and feelings! I've never been able to recapture it alone. That Starwhisper had a magic all his own!

And how could I forget the dances around the fires at night as we dialed in to Nature's frequency. The chanting, the drumming, the searching for a spot to commune with a tree and big, soft leaves. Hopefully in a spot that no one has communed before you. Those nights when our Cirque du Soleil friends visiting from Reno would join in the festivities singing their polite French Canadian folksongs were not to be missed! Oh the costumes and contortioning!

I would live it all over again! Even the time we had that run in with the camping NRA club. But not our misguided attempt to attend Burning Man... I still have a quickened standing heart rate from that little "adventure".

Oh New Oneida, I'll never be able to forget you!

Why I Heart Apple Juice

2008-02-14T07:50:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I had a little run in with some dust. Well, more like a 50 car pile up.

He're the deets. I got to work and noticed that the office was in serious need of some dustbusting and I provided. And promptly after the good deed came the punishment. My throat completely closed up. In bear trap fashion it snapped shut and wouldn't even open to my raccoon-skin cap Daniel Boone-like strength. I could breathe fine but could swallow nothing. Not a drop of water. AND to top it off with rich velvety buttercream, my body's natural defenses went to DEFCON 5 and immediately started to produce copious amounts of a clear viscous liquid. I felt like I was in an airport security line: choking on my own defenses.

After 58 trips to the bathroom, 10 hiccup hoedowns, 3 attempts to sprinkle antihistamines under my tongue (bitter, bitter, nastiness), 2 resolutions to go to the emergency room, and 1 hot bath, I fell asleep. I was sure I was gonna drown as my own zealous immune system kept finding untapped sources of phlegm.

But never fear! I woke and felt like Tutankhamen must feel when he rises to politely choke archaeologists - cranky, creaky and made of dust. I've never been so dehydrated. I lurched to the fridge, poured a tall, cold glass of apple juice, put it to my lips and paused. What if I still couldn't swallow? My mind rapidly went through a delightful scenario with a trip to the hospital tended by the pigfaced nurses from the Twilight Zone who forcefully ram a stint down my throat. I shuddered and delicately sipped..... Heaven. Gloriously cool bliss. This wasn't apple juice! Somebody must have switched it with liquid gold!

Facebook Fauxpas

2008-02-08T06:13:00.000-08:00

Ok, here's the deal. Hey! Listen up. When I say "listen up" that means you stop talking and start listening. Ok then. Here it is.

When you are thinking about posting your main photo on Facebook, for the love of Phil Hartman, PLEASE BE IN YOUR PHOTO!!!

I don't want to see a pic of your baby. I don't want to be friends with your whole family. I want to see you! I want to reconnect with YOU. Yes, yes, I am sure you are very proud that you finally got married after years and years of searching for that one person who can accommodate all your weird ticks and quirks. AND I'm sure you want eeeeeeveryone to know that you had sex and eventually squeezed out a lump of flesh that's not even a person yet. But please people, that's what your photo albums are for.

Eventually I'll get to hear about your wonderful spouse and all 15 kids you've astoundingly had in less than a decade. And I will be ecstatic for you. I'm great at being happy with people. It's one of my super powers. But for right now I want to see YOU and tell YOU how much I've missed you. You left a hole in my life that neither your baby, your hunky spouse or your whole family can fill. Only you.

Thoughts during today's work meeting

2008-01-23T12:05:00.000-08:00

Monkey, oh monkey
are you bored to tears?

When you swing on your tire
do you swing just to swing
or do you think through your fears?

Do the bars confine too much
when you see the sky above
or do you like to lounge all day
with your food served on a tray
and all the girl monkeys to love?

If I can make it there...

2008-01-05T11:21:00.001-08:00

On Christmas Eve, my family was sitting around a table playing dominoes when the phone rang. I was contemplating how to get rid of the dreaded double-blank as my mom handed me the phone. "Eleanor wants to wish you a Merry Christmas!" I hadn't talked to my aunt Eleanor in ages and little did I know just how portentous our chat was going to be.

Eleanor is my mom's sister and she's a delight to talk to. Really, if she ever calls you collect (which she never would, she has more taste than that! But we're in Hypothetical Land here people. She's never gonna call you) accept the charges cause it will be worth every penny. Adjectives that describe a conversation with Eleanor (or Skeleknor to those in the know): witty, fast, urbane, fast, interesting, fast, hilarious, fast, guffawing, fast and fast.

She asked me how I was: I officially came out to her. She expressed her love: I did likewise. She asked me what I was up to: I said Lynchburg, Lynchburg College, grad classes. She inquired of my future plans: I said I was seriously thinking about moving to New York City and trying to make it as a writer at a magazine or publishing house or whatever. She said she had been waiting for this moment: I didn't know how to respond. She said she has tons and she means TONS of contacts at magazines and that whatever I want she would get: I felt a little bit of shock.

She then proceeded to detail her contacts: I felt my jaw drop, and drop and then fall off my face. She said her job was to set me up with job, apartment, contacts and that my job was to tell her when to start and when to stop: I hadn't spoken for 5 minutes at this point.

I believed I stammered something in the way of thanks and love and just general gushing before we stopped talking.

So now that I've had enough time to distill this information not once, not twice but three times like a fine single malt, I'm ready to bottle my 2008 Falcon Distilleries "When Not If" scotch. Seriously. I'm in the calculator stage of the planning. How much money I need to save, etc.

And I'm not walking into this blind. I lived in Washington Heights for 8 months when I was a missionary. I know Harlem, East Harlem and the South Bronx better than the typical white boy does. I know how noisy, crazy, expensive and lonely the City can be. And I love it. And if I didn't take this chance I know I would regret it.

And more importantly, what would Skeleknor think if I didn't?!

A short stack of snowflakes

2007-12-06T12:47:00.000-08:00

Yesterday we had the first snowfall of the year here in good ol' Lunchbag. It was beautiful. The flakes were HUGE and fluffy and cottony and made me start singing songs from White Christmas. It looked like snow I had seen in Utah; God took the lint out of the celestial drier and sprinkled it all over my city.

Usually we get sleety snow here in the more humid climes, but these looked so good they looked fake. I think a marketing firm is behind it all. They got together to make "Snow the Way Snow Should Look!"

Luckily it didn't stick around. Like pancake crumbs descending through syrup, snow is beautiful when it's falling. But once it's been lying in the streets for a few weeks it's just as attractive as a group of pancakes after my niece Sadie gets to them: all sticky and messy and nothing but a problem. Oh the humanity!

Brother Yossarian's Lament

2007-12-01T09:18:00.001-08:00

I recently saw The Stripping Warrior in a Youtube clip where he talks about the dilemma that all gay mormons face (at least the Kinsey 5ers and 6ers). Here, in easy to read bullet format, is the theory part of the prob:

Mormon theology and culture state that to be happy/attain the highest glory in the Celestial Kingdom, one must be married. (Guys, you can have as many wives as you want as long as you're the only one with a penis!)
Also to be happy you must be a practicing member of the Church, hopefully with a valid temple recommend. To stay and strive is to be happy- to leave is to be unhappy.
Gay members of the Church (who were once counseled to get therapy and go ahead and get married) should be aware that therapy and marriage will not make you straight.

Most mormons would agree with the above statements. In practical terms this means:

Gay mormons must stay in the Church and not act on their attractions to the same sex. Acting on your attractions is not just having sex with a man.

It goes much further than that: "It is not helpful to flaunt homosexual tendencies or make them the subject of unnecessary observation or discussion. It is better to choose as friends those who do not publicly display their homosexual feelings." (recently released pamphlet entitled "God Loveth His Children").
In other words don't be gay, act gay or seem like you might be gay. Cause really you're not GAY, you're just.... ummmm.... afflicted with same-gender attraction. Like a handicap or a disease. Yep, just like that. So please keep it down.

Stay celibate. Be alone.

And lets be honest here, you can be inundated with close friends and relatives and be a busy little bee all the time yet still feel isolated and alone. I have been told by several priesthood leaders to be careful of getting too emotionally close to other men, especially those that I might suspect as being gay. (Do all straight people believe that gaydar actually exists?)

For the love of God don't tell anybody you're gay!

You'll never be able to marry because if people know you're gay and you try to date a girl with the intention of marriage you will be dogpiled by people concerned with the well-being of the girl. And with good reason. Or as The Stripping Warrior succiently put it, "Who are you to sacrifice this wonderful girl on the altar of your homosexuality?"

You're fine!

That aching you feel, deep in your chest, that makes you sob at times, just ignore it. Oh. It's getting stronger? Um....
"Fill your spiritual garden with good seed... participate actively in the Church" (same pamphlet as above).You're already doing that you say? Hmmmmm...
"Partak[e] of the sacrament, [sing] the hymns of Zion, and [listen] to uplifting talks." Oh. That kind of advice belittles your situation cause you're already doing that too and it seems like whistling in the dark? Well then,
"Visit with your bishop and other priesthood leaders who hold the keys of inspired counsel for the members of your local Church unit." I'm sure they won't just give you the same ineffective advice that we've already given you.
Don't worry, following all of this counsel WILL help! Have faith! 20 years of fighting and never giving in to those feelings but not getting any results isn't all that long. That aching won't get stronger. It won't keep you up at night. You won't feel like you're starting to go crazy. You're happy! Everything will be fixed in the next life...Why in the world would you try to kill yourself? That just doesn't make sense. Life is wonderful! You're not sad. You're a member of the Church in good standing with a valid temple recommend! You've done everything we told you to do! Smile! Be happy! Now, have you done your home teaching for this month? Remember, there are people out there that need help!

Thanks so much!

2007-11-23T14:10:00.000-08:00

Things I'm thankful for:

My crazy, loud, weird family. Being around us is a bit much for most people and to be honest being a member of this family is a bit much for us at times.
Being out to my crazy, loud, weird family. I feel so much more comfortable with them. I can be myself.
That Thanksgiving dinner has tons of dishes other than turkey. I don't like turkey so I eat everything but. I'm the person that eats all of the brussel sprouts so your aunt thinks it was really popular and brings it every year even though no one else likes them. Yep. I'm THAT person.
Naps.
The internet. I've learned so many things being online. The most important one being that I'm not alone. Thanks mohos!

A Kiss from Erato

2007-11-15T11:37:00.000-08:00

The Returned Missionary's Prayer

God, gird my loins to have sex with a woman.
Bless me with lusting heat for the daughter of Eve's tits.
Let my dick ooze for the desire of penetration.

Give me the strength to kiss her without thinking of the naked boys in the locker room as steam rises from their chests, their shoulders, their backs, nipples firm and hard asses with meaty necks framing velveteen lips and deep-pooled eyes.

Oh God, please let me want to jump her bones and mean it.

Brother 1, Jake 0

2007-11-08T09:13:00.000-08:00

I've been writing a lot in the last week or so and it's been really fun. One of the things I've discovered is that half of the words I write are either unnecessary or unusable or just don't make sense. But I don't feel any futility from chucking all that chaff. In fact it makes me feel energized just to get pen to paper (uh, i mean fingers to keys).

I'm liking my new job. The people are great and fun. And since employees of the college can take courses during the work day I'm going to be able to get my Master's degree for freakin free!

My bro just saw Nickel Creek in Virginia Beach so I'm green through and through. But it'll be ok. The Polyphonic Spree are gonna be in North Carolina next week and I'm gonna go. So it makes us even. Unless he decides to come with. GRRRRRR... Then he'd still be ahead. How funny that weren't competitive when we were kids but now I'm keeping tally of concerts. I need something to distract me from this. Hmmmmm..... what could possibly fill the void?? How bout a boyfriend! Sounds good to me. I'll get right on that.

Monkey see, monkey do

2007-10-26T12:03:00.000-07:00

Family Blend is one of the best blogs. It always makes me smile and occasionally teary-eyed. The blogeurs (you know, like auteurs, bloggers with style!) are a couple of well-adjusted, handsome, loving gay men that cope with their lives (children, exes, Mormon families, friends) with honesty and humor. I seriously look up to these guys. They are what I want to someday be. I only wish that I had role models like this when I was coming to terms with my sexuality.

I know things would have been much easier knowing that there were gay mormons (ex and otherwise) in healthy, loving relationships. Of course the only role models I had were those "gay" mormons who lived by themselves and seemed lonely. You never knew if they were gay or not cause that isn't talked about and you never knew about the, as they call them now, "mixed-orientation" marriages. So once I realized that I would never be able to marry a woman honestly, I had the Sheri Dew lifestyle to look forward to. That really was it. No one else to see and emulate. I was scared shitless.

Of course I know better now. I've experienced how love shared with a man can make me feel whole and good and not dirty and unhappy(although being in your 30's when you realize it is a bit late in my estimation) . I just wish that I had been able to see that earlier. There is a tendency among the members of the Church to feel that they have a monopoly on happiness. The gospel is where TRUE happiness (whatever that means) is found and those people who don't have the gospel and look happy aren't TRULY happy. It's a condescending attitude that most people in any group have I guess. And as a true believer I shared this worldview.

My folks always say that they just want me to be happy. Which is not as simple as it sounds because from Mormon parents the subtext of happy is "living the gospel". There's the disconnect. For me to be happy is to live in a state which my family considers the opposite of happiness. And when it seems that I'm happy, well, I'm not TRULY happy in their eyes. Ah the joys of families.

I'm sure the Family Blend guys aren't supermen and I don't mean to put a pedestal under them. I'm having a good enough time reveling in their ordinariness. I just want to warn them. I'm watching you, rooting for you, hoping every joy in life for you, cause every time you win I win too.

Doesn't everyone think they're a poet?

2007-10-11T14:45:00.000-07:00

So I decided to start posting some of my writings on my blog. Why, you ask? Why to stroke my ego you know. Anyway, here's a sample!

Brian

As the taste of you traces its waltz from the tip to back of my tongue
and the feel of you replays its chords and arpeggios under my fingers,
a bit of your breath has lodged itself in a moist, hidden corner of my lungs
settling down, seeping in
becoming a bit of me.

What if your kindness, your sweetness were as contagious as the rest of you?

You, being you, would throw wide your arms seeding the world with spark and fulgor.
No war in Sudan, no drunken famine lulling babes to rest, no love ever lost
for you would have become like the gods,
omnipotent, all loving, everything to everyone,
removed, unattainable, fiery death to behold.

But in their knowing way, the gods bound you in restraining flesh
jealous with their golden thrones, timid of your spark
retaining their position by shackling you to death.

lying back, i cradle my head and send a whispered prayer to those covetous gods
and thank them for their misguided wisdom.

Heav'nbound you are owned by all- but Earthbound you are bound to me.

i breathe deep and feel that spark of you, that Part i breathed,
that bit of you,
as it slowly drips its way to my heart
becoming a bit of me.

I heart Panera

2007-10-02T13:03:00.000-07:00

Thanks to my parent's unbelievably slow internet connection I have spent much time at Panera Bread. They boast a fast wireless connection, great pastries and loads of cute college guys. Unfortunately, most are students from Liberty University (yes, THAT Liberty University- Jerry Falwell's university) but that's ok. Eye candy is still eye candy and for the price of a cup of coffee I can sit to my heart's content.

It's a warm, friendly environment that's given me the chance to look up grad programs, job opps, email and generally mess around on the web. So to make it official... I LOVE PANERA!

Had a good talk with my mom last night about the Church and being gay and such. I'm really lucky she's open to talk about this stuff. She said that it was nice having me around. I said that I'm always nice to have around and she stopped short and said that it didn't used to be that way. I was moody, mean and irrational. But no longer. I used to be that way because i hated myself, being gay, and therefore life in general. But since I've come to terms with it, I've been much nicer. Funny isn't it? Trying to be everything the Church wanted me to be made me mean, hard and bitter. Now that I don't care what the Church wants me to be I am kind, caring and emotionally stable. There's a moral there, but I hate morality tales so I'm leaving it alone.

Quest for the Holy Goal

2007-09-13T11:55:00.000-07:00

Driving from my flexible strength class at the Y yesterday, my mum and I started talking about the book Into the Wild by Jon Krakauer. I'd finally convinced her to start reading it. It's an unforgettable story about Christopher McCandless who died at the age of 24 in the Alaskan wilderness. He grew up in the wealthy suburbs of DC and after graduating from Emory University, gave all his money away, changed his name and disappeared. During his travels he abandoned his car, burned all his money and tramped around. His body was eventually found in a school bus in the Alaskan wilds. (Look it up on Wikipedia for a better description or better yet get it and read it. It's very Thoreau, very Kerouac, very Jack London.)

This is what I told my mumsie to get her interested in the story. And of course her first question, anyone's first question after hearing this, was WHY? Why in the world would someone give up their life like that. Give away everything they had, even their name, and take off. And this is one of the few questions that Krakauer's book cannot answer. Obviously projecting, I said "Well, sometimes intelligent people can't take life. It's hard you know to have all these pressures to deal with AND be expected to make goals and be successful or what YOU think OTHERS think is successful. And when someone can't make them it all work or has too many conflicting pressures it is sometimes better to just cast it off. You know, a clean break, tabula rasa. Then you can go about figuring what life is all about for you. Sometimes I get that way cause I think WAY too much about it all. Ignorance is definitely bliss." My mom said, "Yes, ignorance can be bliss."

So I compared Chris McCandless' story to Krakauer's other well known book, Into Thin Air, about a tragic expedition up Mt. Everest. I told her that I admired people who had such a definite goal and the chutzpah to go after it. Mom said that she thought people like that (i.e. mountaineers, adventure seekers, Chris McCandless, etc) were essentially selfish people. "They weren't thinking about their families or anybody else. Just themselves. You wanna do something tough? Try living a simple life. That's a good life." I was a little taken aback from the heat that entered her voice. She was starting to sound angry. So the two questions ready to jump out of my mouth were left there, kneeling on the starting blocks. I wanted to ask: What if they didn't have families or anybody else? and Do you think that I'm not living a good life cause nothing is simple for me and I'll never have a family like yours? Honestly, I don't think I want her to answer those.

But the heat in her voice was transferred to me. I wanted to start yelling (very not me). I was mad about two things. One, that I thought I was over needing my parents' approval at my life and being gay. Now instead of wanting to do what they want, I was now afraid of what they thought of my choices. And that made me steaming.

And two, I wanted a goal and I didn't have one. Not like a "get a good job" goal or a "get in shape" goal. Those are easy. But a big, life consuming goal. My goals used to be the goals of the Church. Family, kids raised right, fulfilling callings, eternal reward sort of stuff. I'm an all-or-nothing sort of person. If I think something is worth doing I'll do it to the fullest. So I always threw myself into Church stuff with everything I had. Full-time mission that I extended 2 extra months; going to SVU cause I thought it would be in someway "building the kingdom of Zion"; doing everything right; and trying really really hard not to be gay. That was it. I had no other goals. Nothing else I yearned for. I didn't really have the energy for anything else. The don't-be-gay strife took too much effort and energy. I got good grades and stuff and every now and then I would see glimpses of things I was interested in but they were always eclipsed by my struggles. Anyway, what did it matter? I was on the Lord's side. I was fighting the good fight. I would be rewarded in the Celestial Kingdom where I would be eternally happy. Wasn't that worth some unhappiness here?

So now I don't have those Church goals. I don't want to have the Church telling me what I should want. Because what they want from me is too confusing. "If you're gay get married, no don't get married live a celibate and lonely life, but try to not be gay, cause you can change, well some can, maybe, or maybe not". (read between the lines of what the Church says about gays and it screams we-have-no-idea-what-do-with-you-people all over it) And so now I don't know what I want. I had severely confused myself. I had tried to fit into my community of Saints so much that I didn't know who I was anymore. I had so often heard the phrase "Fake it till you make it". It was my mantra, my war cry, my prayer. If I acted the part, I would eventually be it. I analyzed and adapted everything I said and did so I would fit in. Not only was I trying to stop being gay and just be a regular Peter Priesthood, I was making sure nothing would slip identifying me as gay. It was exhausting. And now all this effort had been for nothing. Now that I have accepted my queerness I am now left with trying to figure out not only what I wanna be when I grow up but what I like and what interests me. That's crazy. That's what I gave to the Church and got self-loathing and self-doubt in return.

So now I need to fill that void. I need a goal and a good one. Something that I could wear my life out doing. And I think I might have it. But I'll have to wait and see. I'll let it percolate for a while and see if I still like the taste. It would be a very worthy cause and I would help people too. I feel like a knight-errant searching for my own Green Chapel and Green Knight to toil against. But once found, it will be wonderful!

Dream a little dream of me

2007-08-23T10:21:00.000-07:00

So I usually don't remember my dreams. And those that I happen to recall when I crack open my eyes aren't typically memorable or vibrant or all that interesting. Several members of my family have these wonderfully exciting war dreams full of running from tanks, fighting Russians, shooting baddies and all in vibrant color and sound. They can smell the gunpowder.

Not me tho. Even in my fantasies I never get to be part of an elite fighting force or scramble trying to save my family or get to be heroic much. I don't fly, exhibit super human strength, or rule the world. For some reason, most of my dreams are prosaic and, to be honest here, lean toward the pathetic.

Tired of hearing all the REM exploits of my family and not being able to contribute, I once made the unfortunate mistake of relating a dream to my brothers. In it I was on my college cross country team running through trees, over streams and rocky ground, dodging deer trying to play chicken, passing other runners left and right to a climatic finale full of cheering fans and waving banners where I crossed the finish line in 2nd place. Yep. 2nd place. I finally had an exciting dream in full color and sound and I didn't even win the race.

Of course they teased me mercifully even though I am the eldest. (The fact that they are younger than me has never been a hindrance to them. They never cowered in fear from an oppressive, teasing older sibling -see Wayne Arnold, Bart Simpson, G.O.B., etc. Geez,even Wally bawled out the Beav from time to time. My bros should consider themselves lucky!)

Well, the cross country dream has even been enshrined in one of the many nicknames my brothers have for me. The initials LP meaning last place is part of my memory teasing nickname: RMNFLPCBMSS. In case you were wondering, to say this name you pronounce each letter. In my family nicknames aren't short little pet names used to speed conversation. Nope they're full on sentences. The longer, the better!

Since most of my dreams are dull and rather Charlie Brownish (the CB part of the above mentioned nickname, which for some obscure, arcane reason, doubles for Chicken Burrito as well) when I have vivid dreams with substance I tend to remember them very well.

I had one of these real dreams last night. In this dream I was standing in a really nice living room watching tv with my whole family, a girl that I was aware, in that way you know in dreams, was my girlfriend and this really hot guy. This guy was a mix of my high school best friend and this guy whose blog I follow. As this girl (whose face kept switching back and forth between girls I had dated) stood next to me, she leaned in and said, "I've had a Vision that you are going to be my husband. I love you and now you have to love me. We'll be together forever! Isn't it wonderful? You've made me so happy!"

As she said this I could feel my teeth loosen in my mouth. I jerked my tongue away from poking my front teeth with the thought: I can't touch them. They'll fall out if I fiddle with my teeth. I HAVE to forget them. You have to love her. She's so happy.

So we stood there with my whole family smiling and watching us. She put her head on my shoulder and I clenched my jaw muscles and froze. One of the teeth had fallen in my mouth. I frantically tried to put it back in its socket to no avail. As I looked around in panic I noticed that the hot guy hadmy moved to where he was sitting right next to where I was standing. My hand resting on the back of the sofa was lightly touching his shoulder. An electric shock, as hot as plasma and quick as light rushed up my hand as the girl gripped me harder. And harder. I felt my ribs creak. She looked up at me and said, "You have to love me. I've had a Vision. I've prayed and the Spirit told me that you are my husband."

My hand was jerked away from the couch and one by one my teeth started falling out. I open my mouth and a river of teeth were falling, hitting the ground. They shattered when they hit. She didn't notice. She leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. My family sat looking at me, still smiling. They didn't notice the teeth either. The guy looked up at me and said, "Why don't you sit down next to me?" I unwrapped the girl's arms from around my torso and sat down. My family had stopped looking at me and were now watching the screen. Suddenly I had a full mouth of teeth again. His arm was around me and he was playing with my fingers with his hand. The girl sat down with my family on one side of the room. The guy and I sat by ourselves.

I felt my teeth with my tongue and they still felt loose. Ever so slowly I leaned my head on his shoulder and my teeth grew firm in their sockets. I let out a sigh and he put his lips to my ear and whispered, "Are you happy? Sit with me for as long as you want."

The room faded and he and I were standing in a field. I could smell fresh rain on the ground, a smell I've always loved. He stood on a hillock as I approached him. His pants took on the color of the earth and plants around him and his shirt took on the color of the sky. When a cloud passed behind him, his shirt took on that color too. The sun rose behind his shoulder and its color bled through his shirt. Wind blew through his hair and he looked at me as tears started to fall from his eyes. He was waiting for me. He was smiling.

That was when I woke up crying. I laid there in the dark trying to figure out where I was and what was going on. Why was I crying? I wasn't sad or frustrated but they weren't exactly tears of joy either. I was just crying. Then I fell back to sleep.

I've been trying to analyze my dream. Apparently dreams involving teeth are very common. Falling or rotting teeth is linked to anxiety, frustration, impotency and fear of being embarrassed. Well that definitely makes sense. Those feelings are old friends. We know each other well.

There's also a lot of truth to it. Being a good Mormon boy in college I dated as much as I could force myself. Since I wasn't exactly motivated by girls' looks I had to make a goal of asking a girl out once every week. I wan't very good at accomplishing it. But in the course of dating girls, I was told by three of them (THREE of them!!!) that they had a vision/whisperings of the Spirit/answer to prayer that said I was going to be their husband. *sigh* Mormons and their visions. One of them I wasn't even dating! So that explains the girl in my dream and her actions.

The part the shakes me up the most is the field part of the dream. I've had this little dreamlet off and on for a long time. The first time I had it I was 13. It made such an impact on me and the feelings associated with it were so strong that it would frighten me. I would HATE myself for having it because the love I felt for that unknown man was very strong and I knew that loving another guy like that was wrong.

And so I think I know why I was crying. This time I didn't feel guilty for it. I now recognize it as a normal dream of yearning that everyone has. I'm no longer mentally flagellating myself for it, thinking that just having it I'm somehow sinning. Now it's a possibility. A hope on the horizon, just like his smile.

A New Chapter

2007-08-17T13:43:00.000-07:00

So my life begins a whole new chapter! I've moved back to Virginia after being away in California for several years. And so far it's been great. Well, except for the heat and the humidity and fear that this whole change is gonna crumble in my hands like an empty egg shell.

I'm looking for work here in Lynchburg and have sent out my resume to several places. I'm also figuring out where I'd like to go to school to further my education. I really would like to teach at the collegiate level but since I've yet to decide WHAT I'd like to teach I'm at a bit of a loss as to which graduate programs to look at. (I know, I know, making decisions is not high on my list of talents). There is a Master's in Humanities program at ODU that looks good but I'm not completely convinced yet. As it is, I'd need to wait at least a year to get my Virginia residency back. Not to mention that my killer GRE scores have now expired! Who knew that they were only good for 5 years. GRRRRRRRR. My brother said not to worry, that if I got great scores before I'll be able to get them again. Easy for him to say.

Boy this is typical "Hedgehog" thinking. Worrying about performance on a test to get into a program I haven't even picked yet. Classic carriage before the horse. I guess this is as good a place as any to explain the name of my blog.

I view myself as a combination of two very disparate sets of personality traits: The Falcon and The Hedgehog. The Falcon is that talented, outgoing, confident, self-assured part of me that can soar. The part of me that views myself positively. This is the handsome Jake. The person that can do anything and knows exactly what he wants. Needless to say, I like The Falcon.

The Hedgehog is that part of me that is insecure, depressed, unsure, timid and a bit prickly. The wishy-washy fool who freezes into inaction. This is the Jake that doesn't think much of himself. The type of person to roll up into a ball and shut everyone out. And although I don't like being The Hedgehog he has dominated a lot of my life so far. (He is pretty cute tho).

I like to think that most people have this dichotomy within themselves. I'm not unique there. I use these two halves of myself to cope with my feelings and the depression that sometimes comes. They enable me to look at myself with just enough detachment to be able to deal effectively with whatever might come.

So lately The Falcon has been soaring. Looking for a new job, searching for education opportunities, even going to the Y to work out has left me flying high! I've even been able to love that part of me that's gay instead of hating myself for it. Instead of weighing the benefits of suicide (there are none, by the way, just if you were wondering), I've been factoring in the gay population at schools in my search. Breathe deep..... doesn't that lack of self-loathing smell great?!