Stuck In "The Bubble"

There's Gotta Be More To Life....

2010-02-17T02:34:00.002-07:00

For those of you who haven't heard the song "There's Gotta Be More To Life" by Stacie Orrico, go check it out. It's 2:34am and I'm sitting awake in my room right now, with 3 very drunk friends who are spending the night out of necessity. I'm relating to that song so much right now. I'm 29 going on 30 this year and I am so tired of the drinking/bar scene and the random acts that follow and are somehow excused by the fact that they happened "while we were drunk". Oh sure it's fun every once in a while, but every weekend... it gets so old and pathetic. I'm single and I'm suffering from a serious case of "the grass is always greener", I just want to have a home and a life and good friends. Right now all I see is dysfunction everywhere I look. Is anyone truly happy anymore, or are we all just chasing down every temporary high to satisfy us??? I don't know that I would recognize true happiness if I saw it now!?

10 Years Has A Way Of Sneaking Up On You!

2009-08-16T23:36:00.006-06:00

So yesterday was my 10 year high school reunion. It seemed to come out of no where and attack me. Just five years ago I was teasing my sister about being old when her 10 year reunion hit. When we are young a day or a week seems like such a long time, but as we grow older the year is over almost as quickly as it started and there's somehow never enough time.

There have been many things recently that have made me feel the age I actually am, rather than the age I'd like to believe I still am. Like "kids" I've known for over 10 years now turning into teenagers and driving and graduating. And loved ones passing away, causing me to think back on my long lost childhood. And my own nieces and nephews getting so grown up and big right before my eyes!

I ended up deciding not to go, mainly because everyone I would want to see from high school I am still in touch with in one form or another and see on a semi-regular basis, and the rest I didn't like so why would I want to know what happened to them??? That was the general consensus of all the people that I talk to from high school, if someone had wanted to go I might have gone along just out of sheer morbid curiosity. It did bring on a case of nostalgia however, so I sat around with a couple friends from high school thinking about what we've done since then, making catty remarks about people from high school, and being glad we don't have 4 kids and are on divorce #2 by now (while we enjoyed a few cocktails and went swimming, it was very sex in the city!).

I heard a report from one of my high school friends that a classmate who had gone said it did not have a good turn out (surprise). But, the reason it was not a good turn out was that the people who had gone were only there to brag about jobs, kids, marriage, and plastic surgery... but there was hardly anyone there to brag to. I say, save yourself the $15 and gas money and do it on facebook... or grow up and get over it and move beyond high school!!! Which ever you prefer. I've opted for the latter!

In a zany twist I happen to rent the movie "17 again" and have to say it was not one of the better movies I've seen. But it did serve the purpose of reminding me that you could not pay me enough to go back to high school. $1 well spent!

The things that seemed soooooooooo important, ended up being so totally inconsequential! And I have done so much growing and changing since then that I wouldn't trade it for anything.

Who knows though, maybe for the 15 or 20 year re-union I'll have a hot husband and a few kids and take them all to my next high school reunion?! What do you think?

Losing someone I love, has made me realize that we need to make the most of the time that we have. And enjoy the memories we make as well. Tell stories, take pictures, make videos, and share them all with friends and family! Even blog! So I plan to do this more and incorporate a lot more pictures and videos into my blog! Enjoy.

The Dream vs. The Reality

2009-04-03T08:30:00.006-06:00

It's been a while since I've posted, sorry about that. That is due, in part, to the fact that someone who left my life recently decided to attack not only me, but also my blog. I found that interesting because in the process of hurling angry insults at me, the one that caught me the most was when he said "why don't you blog about this in your retarded blog". And I've given this lots of thought since, and decided he was right... I should blog about it. So I'm gonna!

I find it amusing that in this day and age of techno overload and constant 24/7 communication, we can now insult a profile as well as a person. But I guess if we can date via the Internet, and break up via text or the Internet, and there are movies based on this phenomenon, why shouldn't we be able to insult a person as well as their profile.

I personally believe we as a generation and society have a much harder time giving someone a compliment, then we do making a cutting or sarcastic remark about someone thanks to the pioneering efforts of Jerry Springer! That being the case, I try and always verbalize a compliment if I think it about someone, even if it's someone I don't know. You'd be surprised how many people remember you when you do that, give it a try and find out... but fair warning, make sure it's a genuine compliment because a false compliment always comes across that way (as false)!

For all the compliments I've received on my blog and brushed off as "oh they are just being nice or polite", the second someone said something harsh about this blog I took it to heart. That got me to thinking that this is something I think MOST people do on a daily basis in their everyday life. I know that I surround myself primarily with people who I love and care about, and on the flip side they care about me. That makes it very easy for someone to minimize the compliments they give me, but one insult from someone who doesn't even really know ME and I cling to that for dear life. Why are we so hard on ourselves???

I'm sure there's probably a mixture of reasons, self-esteem, self doubt, catholic guilt, etc. But what I keep coming back to is this is something that I was taught, and not just by my parents. We get it from everywhere, and for years and years and years. In religion we are taught Pride comes before a fall and to be humble. We are taught humility in school, from parents, adult family friends. Unfortunately, in order to teach this we are also being taught the self doubt in the process. Because what 7 year old do you know that has a healthy understanding of what humility REALLY means?

And how does this reconsile with that competitive attitude we are taught at the same time, how can someone be aggressive, competitive & humble?

So with all of those questions floating around in my head, the answer (or at least part of the answer) finally came to me. And it was so simple. All it takes is a "Thank You". As for the haters, what I finally realized is that #1 they don't really know me and #2 they don't really like them selves very much and it's not worth carrying a grudge around for a person who already does a good job of that all on their own.

As for the guy who insulted my blog... it made me realize that he had been FOLLOWING my blog for a while and never said anything about it. And that said a lot more than the insult. I finally came to the realization that I do this more for me than anyone else. It's a good place to get my thoughts out there and out of my head, and if someone likes it or can relate to it than great! But if someone doesn't like it, oh well. Take care, and thanks for reading!

feel free to share your thoughts!

Let Freedom Ring!

2009-02-21T19:20:00.003-07:00

So it's been a while since I've written anything, that's largely due to the fact that I moved and I have been enjoying my own space sooooooooo much! I know that most people who will read this have moved out and experienced this. But I can't help thinking/feeling like this is somewhat different, mostly because most people move out when they are 18-20 and go to college. So they move to a dorm and there's some transition. But, like I've said before I rarely do things the easy or typical way. And leaving the "nest" when you're 28 years old is a totally different thing. I realized a big difference is not being woken up to requests to do things around the house, or calls during the day with requests to do things around the house, or being greeted at the end of the day with requests to do things around the house. THAT'S HUGE! And I find myself doing a lot more house work, but not minding doing it at all. I do a lot more dishes then I ever did before. I do laundry a lot more often (although those that know me know this is a huge blessing). Previous to moving out, I had to load all my laundry into my car and take it to a laundromat (or a different relatives house) and then end up spending most of the day there doing laundry which killed at least one of my weekend days every week. Not to mention having to sit in a laundromat and watch the wash spin all day (you haven't had excitement until you've done that!). Now the reason this is notable is because my mom had a working Washer and Dryer at home that she wouldn't allow me to use. I even offered to give her the money I would spend at the laundromat and she still wouldn't let me use it. Every once in a while I could sneak a load when she was gone, or guilt her into doing a small load. But that was rare. So it's soo nice to be able to throw a load in and wander around my house and play online or watch TV and not have to worry about it. And doing a single load or two when I have it, rather than saving it all up for "Laundry Day". Somehow I think it's a lot easier doing chores when you can see they are for you directly.

20 Years and Many Lifetimes...

2009-01-25T20:07:00.005-07:00

I was informed today (by my mother) that it was the 20th anniversary of the day that my family moved in to the house we now live in. My mother is big into links and anniversaries. So we hear about every little thing, but I find it an interesting "coincidence" that 1 week before I'm moving out of this house I hit 20 years!

So anyway, it got me to thinking and I realized that I've lived in every bedroom of this house except the Master Suite. I have now spent more than half my life in this house, and I can still remember the day we found out we were moving out of my old house. For those keeping track, that means I moved into this house when I was 8 years old. I have memories from elementary school all the way up to the present that all center around this house.

As I've been sorting through things and packing I've come across things that have triggered old memories anyway, but thinking in terms of living in the same place for 20 years just seems unbelievable to me. I have changed and grown so much in the last 20 years that it seems like I've gone through 3 or 4 lifetimes.

With that being said, it seems as though I'm beginning a new life time even as I write this. Change never seems to happen smoothly. There's always some bang, or at the very least it occurs suddenly and I'm left to adjust.

So for as much as I am so excited about moving and making this change and starting this new life, I'm also kind of scared. It's like standing on the edge of a cliff and feeling the rush of adrenaline because you know that one wrong step and you could fall, but seeing that view and that perspective makes it all worth while and changes you forever. But what I'm reminded of the more I look over my past is how much I've come through and survived. So I know that if I do fall, I will survive. And I also know that going into this I'm in a better place all around then I have been in a very long time. So rather than worrying about falling, I've decided to take a that leap of faith and grow up.

Wish me luck!

In The Name Of The Father (a.k.a. Saint Timothy of Nebraska)

2009-01-23T09:49:00.013-07:00

I haven't really said a whole lot about my father yet! Growing up I was told I am just like him (god help me!), and people still tell me that. But that's mostly because they don't know him. At least not like I do. I've mentioned the fact that I have 3 older sisters and my Mom & Dad and that is the extent of my immediate family. So you'd think in a situation like that the only son would be the "golden boy" but this is sooooo not the case. If you asked some one to describe my dad, they'd tell you things like he's a fantastic cook, he likes to read, he's into politics, he's soft spoken, he enjoys music, he's religious, he's a hard worker. All very nice compliments, but I can sum him up much faster... he's a hypocrite! Plain and simple. All of the descriptions listed above are true, but all in a very very twisted way.

For instance, he likes to cook but he doesn't like anyone who's not a close friend or family to know that he likes to cook or what a good cook he is. He's taken some kind of baked good to numerous parties or made cookies to give to neighbors for Christmas, and when people started raving about them.... he told them my Mother made it. Lucky for him, she loves the lime light so she goes along with it.

He's soft spoken, but only to people he doesn't know very well. Once you get to know him, he can be mean, sarcastic, and biting. And when he does this, he has a very difficult time admitting when he's wrong (if ever) or apologizing. A characteristic my sister inherited from him, I'm sad to say.

He's a very religious person, and if you heard me speaking those words you would hear the scoff in my voice when I say the word "religious". Many times I have made the distinction between "spiritual" and "religious". Religion, as far as I see it, is man made and is more political than anything else (ironic considering man enacted laws to separate church and state). It is subject to group mentality, and restrictions, and information being mis-interpreted for centuries. The present leaders of any church, tell the "flock" only as much as they NEED to know and try and twist and turn and apply centuries old lessons and morals to suit the world today. Thus the new age movement and the reason things like "The Secret" and "Conversations With God" and "What The (Bleep) do we know?" and "The Celestine Prophecy" have come along.

Spirituality is a totally different matter. It is, and should be, a totally individual personal experience. And it is only as limited as the individual who feels it, and how they limit themselves. It can include religious information, but it doesn't have to. I explain it to friends like this, with so many religions out there teaching different versions of "right" and "wrong" of course there will be conflict, but if you boil things down to a feeling of "true" and "different" then there's not this need for comparison and persecution. Something that's true for you, might be totally different for someone else. But because it's not "WRONG" just different, there's not this need to persecute someone for it. Think about issues of sexuality, war, politics in this context as different instead of wrong. We can accept people's differences, but if someone is "WRONG" then how is it possible to agree with them.

As for my father and the fact that he is hardworking. He is a very hard working employee. And he does a lot of charity work. And let us not forget his work as a Eucharistic minister for the Catholic Church in our area. And I'm not faulting him one bit for all of that. But what good is all that hard work if when you're at home you're so unpleasant to be around that your wife and your son avoid you as much as possible... what good is it doing all that hard work? Now you know why I think he is hypocritical. And one of the saddest parts is, my dad and I share a lot of the same interests (music, singing, cooking, artists). I think if it were anyone else, I would love hanging out with them for hours on end.

I've never been interested in sports, I tried things like t-ball, baseball, wrestling all when I was younger and didn't enjoy them. I was the quintessential choir boy, and proud of it. But I have a very distinct memory of going to visit my father's family in Colorado when I was a teenager, and going with his sister to her son (who happens to be just about my age)'s football game. So my cousin and I are about the same age but in a zippy twist of fate his father had left him and his mom when he was young, and he's never been close to him. But for being the child of a single mother, my cousin was athletic, good looking, and the all around "golden boy" of the extended family. Every family has one! But, on this particular day, at his football game... I sat next to my dad and as my cousin and his team took the field I actually saw my dad swell with pride as he saw our last name appear on the back of my cousin's jersey. In that moment, I knew I was never gonna be the son he would be "proud" of. So I've given up trying. I recently realized that when I get in a fight with my father, and am venting to a friend afterward... I talk about my father as if he had left us and walked out on our family. It's not something in my conscience mind, but rather a way of speaking that stems from my feelings about my relationship with my father. How it stands at this point in my life, I want nothing to do with my father. And have no desire to make any effort to have a relationship with him, it's just not worth it. It's like a small child and fire, you get burned enough and eventually you'll stop doing it.

As much as my dad is democrat and liberal, I still feel like he can't handle having a gay son. I've come out to both my parents, and every now and again I'll get into a debate with my mom over issues of sexuality. But after the day I came out, I've never had an "intellectual" discussion or otherwise with my father about that subject.

I realize at this point, all of this has been going on soooo long that my father has no idea who I am, what my life is all about, or anything near and dear to me. Just by reading my blog, you dear readers are way ahead of my father.

And the thing that makes all of this so entirely frustrating is the fact the to the outside world (yet another bubble), he seems like such a good wonderful guy. The kind of guy you'd hope for as a father. But only because they never see him behind closed doors when he rants and raves his mis-guided anger about pointless things. Even my friends that I vent to have said it's hard for them to understand because they've never seen him like that themselves. They believe me and support me because they are my friends, but conceptualizing it is a whole other thing.

Prop 8: The Musical

2009-01-16T15:54:00.006-07:00

Being the libra that I am, I believe in balance so since the last post was so serious I'm posting these for a little light hearted fun on the same issue. Hope this works! Enjoy!

"Prop 8 - The Musical" starring Jack Black, John C. Reilly, and many more... by Jack Black

Vote No on Prop 8: Family (Molly Ringwald) - watch more funny videos

Politics do more damage than good???

2009-01-16T14:44:00.009-07:00

So I think facebook can be a wonderful thing, but it can also shatter the fragile illusions you are still holding onto about people from your school daze! In this post I decided to take a slightly more serious tone. Since the election this year, and the passing of Prop 8 I've had numerous conversations with people that I went to High School and Jr. High with here in "The Bubble". The interesting thing is how much they've varied. I've had conversations with folks who support gay rights and gay marriage, some who aren't sure, and some who oppose it to a point where they actually worked on the campaign to pass Proposition 8. This last group of people made me the saddest and hurt the most. Keep in mind these were people that I was very good friends with in school and growing up who have since moved outside the bubble, and for that reason alone should understand being in the minority (especially coming from a place where you were in the majority) and being discriminated against. Sadly this is not the case. Some of these people I've received surprising support from, some I was so hurt and bitter by what they said I removed them as a friend to avoid further contact, and some asked me to remove them so I did.

There was one conversation in particular that stuck with me, for good or bad, I just cannot seem to put this one behind me. So I've decided to put it out there for your review, the names have been omitted but other than that this is verbatim cut and pasted into this post. A little background first, the girl who wrote me this I've known since Jr. High (8th grade i believe, maybe 7th). She was new to the school and the area and didn't know anyone, we clicked instantly and were friends all the way up through our senior year of high school. After school, when she moved away and we lost touch I would be reminded of her here and there by many things and feel bad that we hadn't kept in touch better. So when i found her on facebook I was thrilled, then I had the following conversation with her.

Her:

I believe if you feel something is important, you should do something about it. I did work on the 'yes on 8' campaign because I felt is was important. I think no matter what side you're on, you can't let the issue pass you by. That's my view in a nut shell. I'm betting you & I are on opposite sides of the issue. What are your feelings?

Me:

We are on opposite side of the issue, and I appreciate you being honest and sharing your point of view with me. But I just don't see how it's right to legislate someones personal life. Any law that takes away A CIVIL right, is not a good thing. That's how the Holocaust occurred, through propaganda and the taking away of civil rights of the Jewish and Communist people. And the argument that two people who love each other and want to show that commitment will some how "destroy" the "sanctity" of marriage is ludicrous. That was destroyed long ago by people getting married too young and for the wrong reasons. And on top of that, it's not even about the marriage, it's about being able to be there for someone you love when they are sick and in the hospital (you have that RIGHT because you are married to them.) And the many other rights you have because you married someone, because you love them, and because you wanted to share you life with them, and show your commitment to them. People are trying to make it appear as if gay and lesbian couples are trying to storm the alters and holding a gun to the clergy's head to forcefully marry them, however in reality... most don't even want a religious ceremony. They want a civil ceremony free from religion because of how most religions treat the GLBT community. Look at what your mom went through in her marriages (yes plural), Is that what a marriage should be? If a law was passed tomorrow saying "all women don't have the right vote" how would you feel? or how about "all African American people should have no rights what so ever" how do you feel about that? It's all discrimination, just because this one doesn't effect you personally doesn't make it right or ok. And you are affecting peoples live who already have it tough enough. Growing up being taught that there is something wrong with you (by your religion) and that you're evil and you're probably going to hell. Most gay people spend their lives trying to over come this programming only to be reminded of this by some bigoted politicians saying that the fact that two people (because they're the same gender) who love each other is wrong. Who are they to decide? Sorry if this sounds heated, but obviously I am passionate about this issue. I would like to be married one day. And I would hope my friends would support me. Including you, because we were good friends for a very long time. I just don't understand HATING someone you don't even know, and that's what it boils down to for me. Worse than that, is hating someone you do know, and cared about once.

Her:

The thing is, I don't hate anyone. I certainly don't hate you, and not any one else that I do, or don't know, who are gay. I do believe that marriage is sacred & ordained of God to be between a man & a woman. I do believe in civil unions & domestic partnerships. I do believe in gay & lesbian couples having all the rights, protections & benefits as married spouses. And under California law, family code 297.5, domestic partners are allotted those rights.
The real turning point for me was reading about the rulings made in Massachusetts, parents were told that they had no right to object to what was being taught to their 1st graders, and they could not opt their child out of the lessons that did not coincide with their beliefs. I want to teach my children what I believe, I don't want it dictated to them by the courts. I want to teach them that we believe that God loves all his children, and we should love every one too. We also believe that God ordained marriage to be between a man and a woman.
You and I will not agree, but that does not mean that we cannot be friends. I respect your views, and I hope that you can give me the same respect. Your feelings are valid, your anger & frustration & wholly understandable & I appreciate your right to disagree with me. I cannot begin to imagine how difficult it must have been for you being raised Catholic & growing up in Utah. I'm not gay, and there is no way for me to fully comprehend your hardships, and the hardships of others. At the same time, I will still stand up for my beliefs. And I respect you for standing up for yours. When the day comes that you get married, or have a civil ceremony, or whatever the case may be, I do support you.

So that was the whole conversation. I still feel in my mind and heart that discrimination in any form = HATE! Keep that in mind when you are considering laws. In her mind, it had to do with her children and what they were being taught. I think it should be on parents to teach their children, too many are not involved enough in their kids lives. And to the ones that are... I'll be the first to stand up and applaud you for doing the hardest job out there. But I don't see how the one has to do with the other. If you don't like what your children are learning in school, there are options (home schooling, private schools, tutors). What I found ironic about her response was that she didn't want the courts dictating what her kids would learn, but she worked on a campaign to give the courts the right to dictate who can and cannot be married. I don't post this to rail on her, but rather to show people how illogical people get about these issues and end up voting based on emotions. Surprisingly I'm still in communication with her, largely due to the fact that at the end of her response she mentioned RESPECT. Respect she has for me, and respect I have for her. That's what it all comes down to. (*hops down off his soap box, and puts it away for a while). I appreciate different perspectives, it's what helps us learn and grow (a lesson I learned from living inside "the bubble", how's that for irony for you) if we are open to it. Otherwise, you end up operating out of fear, and that controls your life.

Footnote to my last post

2009-01-13T10:09:00.003-07:00

So I woke up this morning, and was leaving for work. I had gone out to my car, and had to run back in to grab something. My little 8 (soon to be 9) year old niece had had a sleep over with Nanny (my mom). So as I'm walking back in the front door opens, and I see these legs walking out the front door and arms holding a dried up, shriveled, gigantic poinsettia plant. I asked my niece what she was doing, and as if she had been reading this blog she said "favors". I just about started laughing thinking about the fact that this "habit" had carried over to the next generation.

Mommy Dearest!

2009-01-12T18:17:00.006-07:00

Let me first start off by saying, you can't help but love my mother. Now whether that is because of the train-wreck nature of some of the things that come out of her mind and mouth and you just can not believe anyone actually said that or, because you find her so entertaining... you decide! I like to think that, at least in part, this is because she is a fish out of water here inside the bubble. She is originally from Long Island, NY. So take that brassy east coast culture/attitude and drop it smack dab in the middle of the white bread wonderland that is Utah, sit back, and let the show begin!

I vividly remember when I was little, being in the family mini-van at the McDonald's drive-thru, and my mother placing an order w/ four small children in the car. The poor unsuspecting teenager working the drive-thru having a hard time understanding a thick New York accent (it probably being the first time she had heard one) and asking my mother to repeat herself 3 and 4 times. Mom has never had much patience for "stupidity" and in her estimation of Utah it's EVERYWHERE! So naturally (at least in her mind) she was getting frustrated and being the emotional Italian that she is, it was showing. And the madder she got, the less the teenager could understand her. So while my mother was screaming "I just need sawlt and wahdder" at the speaker, my sister leans around my mother and says "can we please have extra salt and water" and the teenager actually had the nerve to say "ohhhhhh! why didn't you say so"? This is just one of many examples that you'll hear about in the coming posts of the oil and "wahdder" relationship my mother has with Utah. But on the other hand, I don't think she'd ever leave here. She loves it! Because the people are so trusting and easily manipulated that she is able to get away with things she never would in New York.

Bringing friends home was always an experience too, once they got over the "deer caught in the headlights" look my mother "asked" them to do her a favor and (insert chore here). One chore lead to another, lead to another, lead to another.... and two days later I would come home from school and find my friend working at my house cleaning, usually on work-study from school. My mother systematically hired each of my friends growing up to help clean, but what they didn't realize when they agreed to clean was my mother's concept "real estate perfect" (a term she coined). "Real Estate perfect" meant that the house was ready to be shown by a Realtor at any moment. This was something my sisters and I understood all too well because growing up our house was on and off the market practically every other month. So because of this white glove test cleaning attitude of my mother, the kids never lasted long. She had a higher turn-over rate then an outbound telemarketing call center selling long-distance. Her "employees" would start by calling with an excuse about why they couldn't make it that day, and that was the beginning of the end. After that, they would start "forgetting", and then they would conveniently not be around to take my mom's calls to re-schedule. The hard part for me, of course, was they would stop talking to me for FEAR that my mother would somehow suck them back in through me. This is something that hasn't changed, she will still ask friends I bring home to do "favors" for her, and think there's nothing wrong with that. What HAS changed, is I'm now much more vocal in reminding her that they are a guest in the house, and not hired help. I will tell her "no they can not" and that "I will do it later" and quickly usher the friend downstairs and out of her radar range. The result, many of my friends are frightened to come over because they don't want to be put to work. However, the friends who have survived the gauntlet are some of the best friends I could ever hope to have in my life. And the ones who didn't, where more of less only my friend to fellowship me in an attempt to convert me, so no big loss (and at least my mom got her house cleaned).

It's a black fly in your Chardonnay, It's a death row pardon 2 minutes too late...

2009-01-05T10:20:00.002-07:00

I find it kind of interesting how when you put something out there to the universe, it doesn't hesitate to act. When I started this blog not to long ago, it was under the mind set that I had live in the same state, the same city, and in my parents basement/house for more or less my whole life. And just days after posting the blog, I'm moving suddenly. It's a very good thing, and very positive. But I find it interesting that even though I'll still be in the biggest bubble of them all (Utah!) I'm shedding the smaller bubbles that are the City I grew up in, and *(thank god) my parents basement. And me being the little manifester that I am, created a great situation to move into. From basement to Master Suite w/ private bathroom and enormous walk-in closet! Every issue I had with living at home is gone with the place that I am moving too! I can't wait! I'll keep you posted on how it all goes! Wish me luck.

The Ghost Of New Years Eve Past

2008-12-31T11:29:00.000-07:00

So as I got dressed for work this morning I picked my outfit carefully as it would be the outfit I would be wearing into the New Year. When I went to choose my shoes (I know, "I am so gay" as my brother in law would say), I came across a pair of brown "Doc Martin" boots and thought about wearing them. Ironically these boots were actually given to me by the same brother in law referred to above 7 years earlier in 2001 on New Years Eve! I remember it, because it was one of the most memorable and worst New Years Eves of my life. I had just turned 21 years old about two months earlier, and I was bound and determined to go out on New Years Eve and spend the evening with my friends. So I went an awful depressing house party, while I was there I called a different friend, Sean, to come pick me up. While I was waiting for Sean to show up, I did what any mature responsible 21 year old would do... I drank as much of their liquor as humanly possible (and I can drink!) to make up for the fact that their party sucked! So by the time Sean arrive I was beyond well buzzed. Sean was just gonna give me a ride home, instead I insisted that I wanted to go with him to the party he was going to. He agreed and off we went back to his apartment where he spent at least the next 2 hours getting ready (yes he's gay too). I have to elaborate here for a moment, he is polar opposite of me. At the time, he was 98 lbs soaking wet, and obsessed that his cream colored ribbed turtle neck sweater coordinated w/ his brown and cream wool pin-striped pants and brown leather shoes and belt. The other 90 mins were spent applying cover up (yes cover up) and flat ironing HIS hair (and no he is not trans-gendered, just really vain and gay) While he was getting ready, what did I do you ask? I drank his liquor too of course. And it didn't matter what kind of liquor it was. He enlisted his favorite 19 year old fag hag, Ashley, to be the designated that night so both of us could drink at the house party we were going to. So we got in the SUV and off we went. It had snowed really ugly that day so driving conditions were questionable at best. But we weren't far from the party and parked around the corner. We went in and in true gay fashion there was liquor covering ever surface in the kitchen. So being in a party surrounded by judgemental gay men I didn't know, what did I do? I DRANK! And drank, and drank, and drank. At midnight, Sean had promised my neurotic mother that I would be on the phone, so when I was slurring my speech and could not walk he some how walked me down two flights of cement stairs and around the corner to his car where he called my mother and handed me the phone (I don't remember this conversation at all) I gave him back the phone, and while he stuck it in the car I proceeded to pee on the tire of his car. As we were walking back to the party, I decided snow angels were a good idea and fell on my back in the snow. He (again being 98 lbs soaking wet) was trying to get me to stand up, and with very little trouble I pulled him down in the snow too! He somehow managed to get me back up and back to the party. The last thing I remember drinking was a red party cup of jungle juice from a large stock pot (not a good idea when you're at a party w/ people you don't know and there are older gay men dancing with minors) needless to say I still believe there was some kind of "roofie" or something in the jungle juice. But I had so much before that, that I could not stand up let alone make it to the bathroom to vomit! So Sean (the one who had spent so long getting ready and obsessing over his outfit (don't forget the snow angels)) held a cauldron sized pot in front of me, while Ashley had stood behind me and held my head while I involuntarily puked (*side note: I filled the pot 3 times). Pretty I know, you should see the pictures. Yes there are pictures because what do bitchy gay men do when they see someone suffering, the photograph it (thus youtube was born). Sean finally called my parents and told them what was going on and to come get me, as my parents were walking out the door to get me...my lightly buzzed sister, brother in law, other sister and her then fiance'(that's a whole other story) heard what was going on and offered to come get me instead. They called Sean for directions, he asked if he should call the paramedics and my sister who is a nurse said no (because she knew I didn't have insurance) and she would handle it when she got there. When they got there my sister (who's the nurse) saw me and saw that I was ghost white and called 911. The people at the party got pissed at my sister because she broke up the party, due to the minors that had been drinking. The paramedics came and did a sternum rub because I was not responding, I eventually screamed and responded but my chest hurt for the whole next week (I'm just bummed I was out of it for the cute paramedics part of this story). They were just about to haul me away in the ambulance to give me charcoal for alcohol poisoning when they got a call on there radio that there had been a shooting near by. My sister said they would take me home and nurse me, they made her sign a waiver saying if I died my family couldn't sue. My two sisters, brother in law, and sister's fiance proceeded to curse me and drag me down the two flights of cement stairs to the car (*side note: having numerous people ask you if your ass hurts after a night you can't remember is a little un-nerving). They got me into the car, covered in puke, and got me home. When I got home they laid me down on a blanket on my stomach in front of the bathroom. (get your tissues ready, and this is the part I feel guilty about) My mother laid down with her head by mine so she could hear if I was still breathing. At some point I got up, stumbled down a flight of stairs, changed clothes, and brought the dirty ones up to my mother, and got into bed. The next morning I woke up without much of a hangover, but my mother was standing in my doorway staring at me and I couldn't remember how I got home or in bed. I had to ask her and was told the whole story, and didn't believe her at first. That was the first and last time I've ever been that drunk. It took a few years, but I haven't heard much in the way of grief from my family. Oddly, I lost touch with and stopped being friends with Sean not long after that (I did however apologize to him, and the Ashley, the very next day). Ahhhh fond memories!

Some Things You Should Know Before We Get Started...

2008-12-31T08:21:00.001-07:00

Welcome into my life and my world! And yes I say my world because Utah (which is where I live) as a whole, and the small suburb I've lived in my ENTIRE life, is a world unto itself. Don't get me wrong, you can find some amazing people here... but it's like going shopping at a thrift store. You have to sift through a lot of bullsh*t before you find those gems! It's 8:30am on New Years Eve 2008, and for god knows what reason I decided to start a blog. Seemed like an appropriate activity for the day. A little about me, I'm a 28 year old gay man. I know, I know, it sounds glamorous thanks to Hollywood...but in reality I'm not a stick thin meth addicted "twink" who fits into everything. I'm a chubby "bear" of a gay man, half of my heritage is Italian so I'm hairy too! I was raised Catholic is a state that is predominately Mormon. For those of you that don't know much about Mormons (just ask, I consider myself an expert at this point) but the brief description goes something like this: waif like children with a dull hungry look who are taught to believe things that make no sense and never think to question why??? If I sound a little bitter it's only because I am. I have spent the majority of my life feeling like an outcast, through no fault of my own. First off there's the religion thing, ok being different builds character. But growing up a stocky "solid" kid, because of the fine Italian cooking happening morning, noon, and night. And being taught to emotionally eat by my paranoid neurotic mother didn't help either. If you've ever seen "My BIG FAT GREEK Wedding" that's my family only Italian. I have 3 older sisters, yes I'm the baby, and they are all married and two of them have kids. My nieces ages 9 and 22 months, and my nephews ages 3 and 5. And my father, what can I say about my father. He's an emotionally distant man, who married a dominate woman (my mother) and fits the gay stereotype just as well as I do (i.e. baking and Barbra and Broadway "OH MY!"). Ironically, it bothers him that I'm gay. Not that he'll ever admit that, he's a much to politically correct pseudo liberal democrat to admit something like that. So I have lived in the same city in the same state for my entire life, and now I find myself 28 years old living in the basement apartment of my parents house and working in a job in the insurance field. Stay back, it's my glamorous life and you can't have it. And doing things I truly enjoy, like singing and reading tarot cards and movies and being gay, on the down low because I need to get the hell out of Utah and away from my family. Here's the paradox, I would miss my family insanely if I didn't see and/or talk to them on a daily basis. So I stay and dream about traveling and being swept away by some gorgeous handsome millionaire like Audrey Hepburn in Sabrina! Stay tuned if you wanna find out more about the random goings on in my life.....