Don't get it twisted

I'm not normally the type of person who falls in love with television shows. Well, with the exception of South Park and Family Guy (I absolutely idolize Cartman and Stewie). Recently, I've got into shows like Parks and Rec. Their new season began this past Thursday and during the episode (stop reading here if you don't want to be spoiled) features our blond protagonist accidentally marrying two gay pengins. A representative of a group, who I don't think ever really identifies as being religious or conservative, meets with her and requests her resignation citing that she showed support for gay marriage and her job requires her to remain non-political.

Now, I had been drinking with Brandon while watching our shows so admittedly I am less patient in every way, however, the message the representative was spewing out of her face infuriated me. I know the show is fake but the scenerio was life-like that I couldn't help but unleash the rage.

After telling my dad "I'm at least bi" (what a joke, right?) he would later say "I just don't understand it" so here's what I'm saying now: I just don't understand why gays can't get married. Or at least, for Christ's sake, be allowed civil unions that offer the exact same benefits of marriage (since apparently gays using that word is taboo).

There is no argument that has any weight to it. Homosexuals marrying will destroy the family system? Oh, wait, straight couples like Phillip and Nancy Garrido have that shit on lockdown. Oops, did straight people with varying viewpoints wanted a viewpoint that's not confrontational? Go here, Seattle Weekly, they are much more eloquent and NICER than I ever will be.

Sometimes, proponents for homosexual equality (no taxation without equal representation anyone? or does that only apply to religious majorities?) hear the argument "If we allow gay marriage then what will be next? Where will the line be drawn? Could someone marry their guinea pig then?!"

Are you fuckin shitting me?

There is a huge ocean worth's difference between two CONSENTING adults marrying than... say... a man marrying his guinea pig that can only occasionally speak high-guinea-pigish. Fucktards.

I wonder what would happen if homosexuals stopped paying taxes? Could such a thing even be put into action? Probably not, we're not that organized, but there would be some action then, wouldn't there?

If I have to see another soccer mom from Columbia, Missouri babbling about what's morally acceptable again I'm going to contaminate her fuckin tampon with rat poison while singing praises to my obvious master and lord, Satan, only to prove that yes, every fuckin gay person is the epitome of evil intentions and corruption. Bitches.

Am I jaded? Yes. Am I way the fuck out there on this? Yep. Am I determined to hammer home the point of equality? You better fuckin believe it.

Seven Cents

Raiding the piggy bank: Here I am again, posting way after I should have provided the world with a much needed update on my life (that's supposed to be sarcastic) and a much needed cathartic release.

Today is Brandon and my four month anniversary. Four months is a long time! Well, maybe not to the reader, but for me, that's like an eternity! He has successfully completed the task of becoming my longest relationship ever. My experience has created a little rule that I've applied to everything until I met this guy. That rule is this: I either get tired of someone new within three days or they get tired of me within three months. So far in my life, this has held up and for the vast majority of my experiences I've been in the position where I've gotten tired of someone else. A very few select people have been in the reverse. I don't handle the other option very well. Just sayin.

Brandon has... tamed the beast... I guess you could say. I rarely, if ever, care about what other people think in relation to myself unless it will benefit me. With him, however, I've become domesticated! I go home hoping to hang out with him, cook dinner with him, clean up after ourselves, do our laundry, play soccer together, go drinking together, laugh at the plight of others together (okay, that one is more me than him), and whatever else we feel like doing. I'm not gonna act brand new, I love the man. This is where I knock on wood.

Aside from living the life of a young, poor, gay couple I've been doing my best to create a better world around me. Now isn't this entire post some sort of oxymoron already? I've already stated (and hell, if you're reading this blog you probably know what kind of person I am) that I rarely, if ever, care about what others around me think and yet here I am writing about the good I try to inflict on the world. It's difficult for me to explain what kind of person I am. I probably belong locked up or as some kind of military weapon to be unleashed on countries where we want to steal oil. I'm reminded of a statement one of my friends from college once said to me that floored me because she seemed to understand me without me ever having to try to explain how my mind works. Jennifer, during one of the many executive board meetings I was a part of and probably causing shit in the middle of, said... oh hell, I can't remember it word for word (I'm almost twenty-six: old) but it was something along the lines of how I say and cause so much strife but it's always about issues I really care about. She was talking about my fraternity, Phi Sigma Pi, when she was saying this to me. She was right and I had no idea anyone could read me so easily.

Back to the point. I won't be able to be an adult volunteer for Young Heroes this coming school year for two reasons. The most obvious reason being that I work on Saturdays. The second, and possibly incorrectly assumed, reason being that the new Program Manager is not a fan of me. She's the girlfriend of the woman I wrote a little about in the previous post and, although both of them are not supposed to know about why I left my old job at the Gap, they probably do not like me for the reason why I had to leave. I don't want to go into that here because I'm embarrassed a little. All I can say is that I always learn things the hard way. If my Saturdays were free I would love to go back to working with the kids in Young Heroes. Especially this year since the PM is new and both of the Service Leaders are new. The program is going to need some experienced direction to be successful in this difficult point in time.

I'm also trying to set up some service opportunities for my soccer club, Rain City Soccer Club. Right now, we are working with Seattle's Lifelong AIDS Alliance during their annual AIDS Walk. Drumming up volunteers from among our crowd is going a bit slow at the moment but I'm hoping the soccer players come around. We're also working more of a recruitment aspect with the intention of increasing the club size and adding more talent/younger players. I've got us signed up to work a table at the University of Washington in a few weeks. I'd love to bring in some college level athletes for the more competitive teams within the club as well as more young people for the more recreational level teams. I failed at getting on the board this year but I'm going to be next year. I promise.

I also recently received my acceptance to the Alumni Board for City Year Seattle and am really excited to be able to work with and for the current corps members in whichever way I can. I know how important it is to have people who can work on behalf of the corps members who are putting a ton of time into AmeriCorps programs like City Year.

I want to go on a rampage now, so, if you want to see what's in my piggy jar, keep reading.

One Cent: When we, as a soccer club, first announced that the proceeds from our recent Shorts vs. Shirts soccer match were going to Lifelong AIDS Alliance and that the donated items requested were going to the Lambert House we received negative feedback in the form of sex favoritism towards the male.

First of all, bitches (I can write this here because this is my blog and I can write anything I want but this is definitely not a directed gender based slander - or hell, take it that way, I don't give a shit), AIDS doesn't discriminate against having two X-chromosomes or having an X- and a Y-chromosome. Women can get AIDS just like men and while the gay male population in the United States is a large portion of this crowd this isn't the only group that makes up those infected with HIV or AIDS. We decided to partner with Lifelong because they have shown us some love in the past for one of our soccer club's teams.

Second of all, the Lambert House, although it will come up on Google as Lamber House Gay Youth Center, services transitional homosexual youth from every single LGBTQ denomination. There is absolutely nothing male-skewed about collecting donations for this organization. If we, as a homosexual soccer club, can't identify organizations that directly help our entire community then something is definitely wrong.

Two Cent: Someone would really have to be living under a rock to not know anything about the current Healthcare debate. I'm for the public option only because I've worked with kids and families who haven't been able to afford any type of healthcare and feel that anyone and everyone should be able to live lives without having to avoid care because they can't afford it. I've read the part of the new bill that some individuals are saying references death panels and someone seriously needs to relearn how to read. And guess what, that someone isn't me.

What does fill up my hate meter is how one of our political parties is using the general laziness and mob mentality of the people in our country to spread and encourage statements that are not only incorrect but idiotic as well. I'd vote for the new healthcare plan and if doesn't work I'd also vote to get rid of it.

Another topic of extreme importance and relevance to me is the topic of gay marriage. There's huge support right now to oppose gay marriage on the foundation of protecting families. The simple truth of the matter is that keeping an entire tax-paying population from equal rights is unconstitutional. Period. Our country has been down the road of discrimination before. There is little difference besides available resources between the homosexual plight and past discrimination battles.

I can't comprehend how someone could be so blinded that they would be willing to keep an entire population from equality. If I had absolute control, I would abolish religion from the government. Marriage, which began as a religious enterprise, would also be removed from governing documents. Civil unions would take the place of marriage in every instance. Marriage can remain something that is religious based while still allowing everyone to be able to live and love freely.

Three Cent: Drama pisses me off. There is nothing more bothersome, to me, than having to experience useless, unneeded, unnecessary drama. I like life to be streamlined and easy-going and if that's not possible then my hurtle better be something that is conquerable rather than intrigue and gossip inspiring.

Something happened where I've lost contact with a group of people who were once my friends. This isn't a single group but rather two different groups. A group of soccer guys who I used to be included on things with have written me out of the picture and the people I live with are no longer as close to me as they used to be. The fact that there seems to be multiple groups who I feel I put out by makes me wonder if I'm in fact the problem. Maybe. Probably. It would make more sense but I can't identify what I'm doing wrong so I'm going to blame them instead.

I don't respond well when I feel like I'm being wronged. I turn into something more akin to a holier-than-thou zealot and attack rather than listen. The fallout, historically, hasn't been pretty.

Four Cent: Two weeks ago, I checked my bank account to see if I had enough money to buy pizza for lunch (it had been a really long morning) and found out that I was seriously overdrawn. There was even some sort of fee on my account called "Item Return Fee". Now, I'm not perfect, I've overdrawn myself before but have never seen this type of fee before. So, I called the bank and was told that I had written a check at a Rite Aid for an amount that my account couldn't cover.

Two alarms were triggered in my brain. One, I only use my checks for my rent and utilities. Second, I haven't been to a Rite Aid in over a year. I asked the representative for my bank if she could tell me anything about the check and she gave me the amount and the check number. The check number was way out of the range of my current checks but I didn't have my book with me to prove that fact. I asked her to open up my rent check and compare it to this one in question. The first thing she said was "Oh, these signatures are definitely not the same." I wanted to say "No shit, Sherlock" but I work in a customer service role, I know how much it sucks to have people get mad at you for something that isn't your fault. I restrained my tongue through tremendous effort. She then read off the name, address, and phone number on the top left of my check and the man (I guess since I already posted his name on Facebook it's okay to do it here as well), a Thomas P Connor, was using checks with his name on them and my account number.

The lady transfered me to check fraud claims and I ended up getting all of the money returned to me but had to close the account and old checks. I have a connection at an international security company and they located the man. I want very much to go down the route of revenge but am wary of legal ramifications. I'm going to follow up on the case and probably explore prosecution. My revenge can be laughing at him when the verdict is announced in court. Hope your work release program has a one-strike contingency.

As far as how he got my information, the bank representative that I ended up meeting with said it could have happened any number of ways ranging from random number generation to going through my trash. I'm thinking that bank statements are now going to go into my "BBQ fuel starter" pile.

Five Cent: I've had the desire to go back to my high school roots and pick up pottery again. I used to be what some people would call an art freak in high school. A special class had to be created for me to keep exploring in the world of ceramics after I had already exhausted the available resources in my high school's art repertoire.

I want to get back into this hobby and have already started doing some research on clay, tools, and firing resources in Seattle. I keep telling myself that once I have the money I can pursue this again but that state of mind is only leading me into a spiral of putting it off. This first step is probably going to be the hardest: getting a wheel because I want to throw when it suites me, not someone else. After that, everything else is gravy.

Six Cent: My cousin and I have started working on something that I'm really excited about. It's putting my over-active imagination to work alongside his technical know-how to, hopefully, create something amazing. I want to protect what we're working on so I can only leave this much information out there. I can't have any other opportunists capitalizing on my shit.

Seven Cent: What would an adult blog be without the opportunity to complain about work? I'm frustrated all to hell with how my work operates. I work for a non-profit that likes to think it's a for-profit business. The majority of what we bring in goes towards paying the salaries of the higher ups when it should be returned into making this place better. Oh, our ponds that were created in 1962 are leaking? I bet that shit would have been fixed had some of what we're paying people to do nothing was put towards repairs a long ass time ago.

There's a whole gaggle of employees who have no right being in the position they are in and no one seems to be willing to replace them. I'd do it. In a heart beat.

I want to overhaul the entire organization and trim the fat. Is this going to be helping the situation of the economy? Probably not. But would doing this help make this non-profit more efficient and streamlined? You better fuckin believe it.

Where have I been!?

I can't believe how long it's been since I've written on here! Not that what I write is of any particular importance but I do value my blog and feel that I've completely neglected it.

I honestly can't even remember where my life was at the time of my last posting. What I do know, however, is that a lot of things are different. So, here's what I'm going to do: just summarize and update.

I no longer work at the Gap or have my internship at the University of Washington. I went through a month long, or longer, time period without a job of any kind. My funds are like... well, using the word funds implies that I have money. Which I don't. Hopefully, that will be fixed soon. About three weeks ago, I accepted, and started, a new job with a local non-profit called Pacific Science Center in its membership department. Life should run more smoothly within a few months.

Soccer has been on a two week break to allow a lot of our players to play in a tournament in DC for the International Gay and Lesbian Football Association (IGLFA). Our soccer club sent two teams to Washington, D.C. for the tournament. One of the teams, Jet City Strikers, will be bringing home the Division Two Championship!

I've been seeing a guy named Brandon for over a month now and things are going really well. I really really hope I'm not jinxing myself by writing about the relationship. He's a soccer player, like I am, and plays for a different team than I do within our club. The boy's a rockstar; I can't explain him in any other way.

Friday, I went to the graduation of the current corps members for City Year. I really enjoyed being able to see all of the people I volunteered with but one aspect about the night infuriated me. City Year likes to recognize community leaders who bring in money for the organization. Anita, my old boss and volunteer coordinator at the Gap, is someone who did all the same things I did but as a full time Gap employee is able to bring in a lot more matched money for non-profit organizations from corporate than I ever was able to. During the graduation, she was recognized for all of her contributions. This is not the issue that made me mad. She was given all the credit for a project I set up, ran, found a service site for, called kid volunteers to attend, encouraged adult volunteers to attend, and coordinated with City Year to get new corps members involved as well. Her only role was to bring in a person to video tape the event. Constantly, throughout my employment at the Gap and my tenure as one of the Community Service reps for our store, she was taking credit for the events I would produce. Friday night, she received ALL the credit of probably the most ambitious event I put on. Bullshit. Pure bullshit.

A lot of my new job involves waiting. I keep myself entertained by reading, mainly. Hah, I guess I could say that my new job allows me more time to stay up to date on the news both nationally and internationally. A couple of the issues I've been reading about have really caught my interest.

And... of course both are gay issues.

Part of President Obama's promises was that he would remove the Don't Ask, Don't Tell policy and that he would help out the GLBTQ community by making it so that healthcare and insurance agencies would recognize same-sex couples by providing benefits to partners. Of these two issues, only the second has been realized and even that applies only to his federal employees.

Charles Moran from the Log Cabin Republicans organization, a group that works at advancing rights for homosexuals within the Republican party, ridiculed President Obama for being unable to make good on his promises nationally. I wonder if Mr. Moran realizes that he's affiliated with a political party that is notorious for squashing the rights of more people than just homosexuals. Good luck with getting your marriage license while still claiming to be a part of the GOP, Charles.

Sacha Baron Cohen, originally famous for his movie: "Borat", has created another character named Bruno based on homosexual stereotypes. Apparently, his portrayal of a gay man has caused some critics to say that he is only hurting the situation of many homosexuals in the United States. Any person who believes that one man is the definitive norm of an entire population is an idiot. Bruno will not be anything like me, and indeed, there is no other gay man that is like me. Saying that Cohen's character Bruno will hurt the cause of the GLBTQ community's move towards equal rights is ridiculous. Any educated individual will recognize that one person does not define a population.

Writing Titles Sucks Sometimes

Okay okay, shenanigans aside, I received my rejection letter for my application to grad school and a doctorate in physical therapy on Tuesday. My response was to binge drink and celebrate self-loathing. Lame to the max.

I didn't have a plan B ready. So, I am sure you can assume that there was some freakage involved.

Gahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Alcohol: a social lubricant and personal favorite upper that masquerades as a downer. Or, well, at least it acts as an upper for me.

For most of the week I was able to make it to my obligations: work went fine. Saturday was my wake up call that I was spiraling into a whole new bad place. I slept through getting to hang out with my kids. All because I had consumed way more alcohol than any living person should have and ended up in... a bed... by 5:30am.

What did I do? I need to get myself back under control. There is another chance for me to hang out with the kids this coming Saturday and I am so worried about seeing them and having them ask me where I was. What do I say? The truth? That I could very well have a drinking problem or that I spent Friday night boozed out of my mind and couldn't make it on Saturday? What kind of role model would I be then?

I guess sometimes it's necessary to lie.

Sunday, which really was a few hours ago, signaled a reset point. There are some challenges ahead (like, I don't know, figuring out what I am going to do with my life now) but I have to find a way to motor through them.

I had this big plan of writing a post about secrets. I've seen them cause so much trouble in one side of my family. Secrets even affect myself and my relationship with people because I am so scared and confused about my sexuality. However, I thought it was more prudent to write about something real. Secrets are always kept because the keepers feel it's necessary. My actions have only hurt myself and these middle school kids who want nothing more than to save the world and have fun while doing so.

What have I been doing with my life?

I guess I've been learning. Learning the hard way, for sure.

Walking the Talk

Talking about doing something is one thing.

Actually doing it is another.

Over Thanksgiving, I was watching TV with mi madre and a commercial came on about donating to a foundation that helps educate poverty stricken kids in another country. The lady of the house commented on how amazing it would be to do what those people on the TV are doing: helping children. I told her that she could do that now without ever having to leave the U.S. In fact, she could do that without ever having to leave her zip code. Haha, she blew me off after I told her how volunteering at one of the local schools is easy enough to do.

A couple weeks ago City Year Seattle's Young Heroes program started up again. This is the team I was on while a member of City Year. This go around, I am only an adult volunteer termed a "Team Leader". I have a gaggle of middle school students who look up to me almost every Saturday for leadership in some aspect.



Young Heroes' program is designed to teach middle school students about social issues within their city and then to perform active service relating to that issue (this past weekend they learned about the Muscular Dystrophy Association and stuffed envelopes for the annual Hop-A-Thon fundraiser - interested? Go here: Seattle MDA). I was the person who planned the curriculum part of the day when I was a corps member.

Right now, these middle school students are not completely aware of the good they are/will be performing every Saturday service day. They are not children with messiah complexes. They are only showing up because 1) their parents are making them, 2) their friends go, 3) they want to meet new friends, or 4) they want to hang out with the Josh. Okay, okay, so that last one might be a bit of a stretch, but you get the picture.

When our team last year got interviewed by the national manager for Young Heroes teams we were asked what we expect the kids to take from the Saturdays. We all responded that we wanted them to learn about the subject of the service day but I also added that I hope they have a seed planted. Yeah, so maybe these young people will not become the next Mother Theresa after performing service to Seattle's community for a day, but the thought will be there. It will grow as they grow and will affect how they live their lives down the road. That's the best we can hope for; that what we are doing creates the leaders of tomorrow.

Whoever coined the "Power of Youth" got it right. Young adults working with teenagers at making tomorrow better than today. There is power in what we do and the ripple effect created from one day of service is going to reverberate for centuries to come.

Pop Songs and Romance

It's tearing up my heart when I'm with you

But when we are apart, I feel it too
And no matter what I do, I feel the pain
with or without you

Baby I don't understand
Just why we can't be lovers
Things are getting out of hand
Trying too much, but baby we can't win

Let it go If you want me girl, let me know

I am down on my knees I can't take it anymore

Blah, blah, blah, right? I know, I know. Trying to gain the sympathy card is so last year and two seasons ago.

Whatever, I do what I want.

And my version of this song would not apply to any girls (sorry ladies).

I re-sync'ed my ipod to my laptop about a week ago and added a ton of songs that are new to the ipod's memory (this is interesting only because my ipod has been playing the same songs since I left Missouri - well over a year ago). Including the above (and the rest of the lyrics) little ditty called "It's Tearing Up My Heart" by NSYNC. It's funny how a song from the nineties will apply so much to the now.

In the not so distance past things between myself and Cole ended. If he reads this, he will probably roll his eyes and make that chuckling noise. Oh well.

I have had my share of one-nighters and weekend trysts. I've had even less real relationships. Cole was something so entirely different. I was never challenged by anyone I have ever been with until him. The beginning was amazing. Difficult at times, but amazing nonetheless.
Somewhere along the road things changed. I know for a fact that I did not change, it resulted from something else.

Our chances and times to hang out started to go away completely. Almost every night was changed to a few times a week. Then, I was lucky enough to see him twice a week. Next up, nothing but every other week. The typical man-gets-rid-of-man sequence was made possible by the original just-stop-talking-to-each-other play.

The lyrics I copied and pasted above speak exactly to how Cole and I worked. At times, I hated being with him. He would drive me insane and I would want nothing but to be away. Yet, when I was away from him, I would want nothing but to be with him. Is it possible to be so simultaneously obsessed and annoyed by one person?

I removed him from my friends on facebook and myspace while also deleting his phone number from my cell (admittedly not before I recorded it into my telephone/address black book). He wrote me thinking this was what my wrath looks like but to be honest, it's not. I'm trying to avoid jealousy and more heart problems... ahem. Try not to let out the fact that I actually do have a heart: I have a reputation to uphold. I felt the step was necessary for me to try and get over the man. Getting fucked and ignored in the same day is not something I ever want to happen again. Well, that can't be avoided with one night stands, haha, but definitely should not happen with someone you used to (used to? do I really mean past tense?) love.

I learned from us. And if the rest of the song plays out it's going to be a bumpy ride. But hey, Fievel didn't go west to be stuck in heartbreak-mode.

This entry is not a plea to get him back. It's just me writing things out. I do that, and have for a long time. I miss the guy something fierce but every day that "miss you" factor decreases.

Whoever said it was right, time heals everything. It's going to hurt, but every thing's going to be okay.

How to Completely Miss New Years...

You've been invited to some party in Pioneer Square. It sounds sketch but totally doable. Here's your selling points: Live music, only a ten dollar cover, and.... here's the real clincher.... OPEN BAR.

15 Steps towards maximizing your night of completely missing New Year's follow below.

First step:

Sleep late. Get up on New Year's Eve and have just one bowl of extremely hot oatmeal. Not just any oatmeal, but organic oatmeal that your friend (preferably named Jane) left for you when she moved to New York.

Eating this, and only this, is important because you will be low on calories for the day and who can get drunk on a full stomach?

Second Step:

Go work for a few hours just to get your blood pumping and to feel a little sense of being productive. Doing this will also lend you the believability of actually having something to celebrate.

Third Step:

Whip out that huge bottle of wine you bought a couple days before in preparation. If you're like me, it's a white wine that has been chilled. No reds or warms in this house. Open and prepare to enjoy.

Fourth Step:

Crank up some music. For once in your life you have the entirety of the house to yourself. Yes people, all thirteen of my roommates went home for the holidays. I preferred the song "Bossy" by Lindsey Lohan as the mood setter for my night of debauchery.

Fifth Step:

After having drank half of the bottle of wine, look up the next bus that will take you downtown. Go run drunkenly to the bus and ride it. I know, I know, Ginuwine's song "Pony"comes to mind when I mention riding in this paragraph but let's refrain from giving any of the other passengers the most awesome lap dance of their lives while riding down I-5.

Sixth Step:

Skip down one of the many hills in Seattle's downtown area and get lucky by running right into your friends on their way to the same party. Head together as a unit to the site described on the flier.

Seventh Step:

Pay cover to get in. Deal with the random stares and even the occasional comment from some dude that sounds suspiciously like "Oh, no." Find a place to store the group's coats and get in line at the bar!

Eighth Step:

While getting free booze from the bar make sure to flirt with both the man and woman who is running it. They appear to be a couple and this studio-esque place you are in might be where they work.

Ninth Step:

Finish off the party's handle of whiskey. Then start in on the vodka.

Tenth Step:

Hit on friend's boyfriend.

Eleventh Step:

Take numerous drunken photos that will not be remembered the next day.

Twelfth Step:

Black out.

Thirteenth Step:

Wake up on bus #10 at the end of it's route. Respond to the bus driver as eloquently as possible when he asks you "Party too hard?" and then be thankful that he is going to allow you to stay on the bus while he takes his break and then heads back into Seattle.

Fourteenth Step:

Get off the bus randomly. Walk around randomly. Randomly run into 23rd Avenue and start heading north towards the university district.

Fifteenth Step:

Walk all the way home intermittently crying, laughing, and shouting. Bonus points if you can successfully pull off looking like a drunk hobo.


So what's the moral of this story? I guess the only possible one is this: drink responsibly.

I don't remember New Year's happening. There was no kissing at midnight (not like there would have been - my love life sucks). No champagne (I think). Not a lot of fun.

Well okay, that last part was a lie. I always have fun with my friends.

Yeah. So there you have it. Fifteen steps to completely miss your New Year's.