Assault rifle in my kitchen?

So, two dudes robbed a bank in South Lake Union, which is an area in Seattle. One was caught almost immediately and the second holed himself up in his apartment. Which just so happened to be in the building right behind our house. I was inside folding laundry and Rust was out back trying to figure out how to change his air filter when I heard a lot of "Get on the ground, get on the ground!" from out front.

Me, my roommate, Tai, and her boyfriend run to the front to see what's going on. We see some college kid get searched and let go by cops. The cops then start running around the other side of our house, they have guns drawn and my first thought it is "Shit! Brandon is back there!" I run around the side of the house and see him running to our basement door to lock it. Some cop with some huge assault rifle looking thing just told him to get inside and lock the doors. Which we do.

By now, the four of us are watching out the windows to see what's going on. Cops are all over our backyard and the alley there. They have a big blue house behind ours surrounded with these huge guns pointed at it. Soon, a huge armored vehicle arrives with SWAT members and more of them take up positions around the house.

One of the cops notices us and yells "how do you get in your house!?". We tell him, and three of them come around front. They post up in our second floor kitchen and one of them says "if he comes out of that house with guns blazing, will you shoot through the screen [of our window] or knock it out first?".

They stay upstairs for the next four hours watching the house. The one with the big gun is replaced halfway through and one of the cops leaves with him. Brandon asks one of the replacements if they are going to buy us pizza. They say they can't but are in good humor about it. I've long since checked our basement and no one was down there. Ironically, Rust was telling a passing cop outside that our basement door (which has access outside and inside our house) was open and unlocked when all this started. I came out of the basement right after he finishes telling the cop. Brandon freaks out that I went down there alone (it was the widest I've ever seen his eyes - if you look at his pictures, you'll see what I mean, lol). I respond with "I took a knife with me."

Tai, her boyfriend, and Brandon spent most of that time watching everyone and speculating on what's going on. I spend most of that time designing shoes on Nike's website. For the first two hours, Rust is on the phone with random friends and family members telling them the same story about what happened. He's really jittery and excited and scared all at the same time. The intersection outside our house is roped off and apparently Brooklyn (my street) from 52nd to 55th is unavailable. So, the roommates of mine who were at work couldn't come past the tape to get inside. One of them was outside for 2 hours able to see her house but unable to get inside it.

To be honest, it was annoying. Tuesday is my day off and here I am unable to leave my house and everyone around me is pumped about what's going on - maybe I'm just an attention whore and wanted people to talk to me. We're making dinner at around 5:30pm when the cops upstairs leave. They thank all of us and even the guys who were there first come back and ask if they broke anything and to also thank us for letting them use our house - which helped them gain huge respect points from me.

They eventually got the guy but I'm not sure how. I don't know if they had to go in or if he came out on his own. I wasn't paying attention anymore by that time.

I have to go outside that night with Rust to pick up the tools he had left out there and to shut the hood on his car because he's too afraid.

Brandon and Tai's photos and videos from their phones are on every single news station website. Here's a link to one of them that actually sites the two of them: http://www.seattlecrime.com/2010/02/09/swat-team-called-to-the-university-district

All of the pictures and videos are from looking out of our windows. If you check Rust's Facebook, he put up pictures of the cops actually inside our house.

I need to move out of the ghetto.

Bah Humbug

What did I do in my past that has earned me three years of heartache during the holidays?

My first Christmas here, I get dumped on Christmas day by Michael. By far the shittiest move yet. Last year, Christmas came right after Cole and I imploded; while he was exploding all over some other guy. Come to think of it, Michael was too.

This year, Brandon goes home for the holidays. Which is no way the problem. The frustration I'm feeling is that I did not know he was doing that until yesterday. Yeah, two days before Christmas.

That means, all this time while friends and acquaintances have been asking us what we're doing for the holidays and we've both replied "not sure yet" to which I normally follow up with "it kinda depends on his family's plans" I have just looked like a fool.

A fool because the entire time he probably knew he was going home and that I wouldn't be with him. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I had been wondering if this would be when I would meet his family. I worried about it, I was scared about it, and all those emotions were for nothing.

I wouldn't have minded putting off meeting them until he and I were farther along in our relationship I just would have liked to have had that made clear. Not two days before one of America's biggest holidays when family and friends mean the most.

All this time I sounded so delusional. I was such an idiot and such a fool. And I can't help but think he allowed me to continue making myself look that way.

I've hated Christmas time ever since I moved to Seattle and this year hasn't changed that feeling one bit.

A Conflict of Interests

Part of my job has me working with customers who occasionally ask for tickets to shows. I work in membership development, so, obviously, keeping them as members is important. Like most non-profits in this economy, things can be rough and members who pay yearly fees are a necessity.

Here's where things start to fall apart for me. I'm helping a woman this morning who is proudly showing her lapel pin stating that marriage is only between one man and one woman. It's not unlike the one I posted below.

If you know anything about me, or have taken any reading past posts, you should know that I identify as a gay man. So, obviously, I do not agree with this lapel's statement.

I view her stance as discrimination, simply put. It was a little jarring for me to be staring directly at someone who would actively support keeping me as a citizen with less rights than she enjoys. And she seemed so normal! Her interaction with her children was similar to how I would parent. She was intelligent and inquisitive in regards to the status of her membership.

Why does she hate homosexuals? OK, so that question may be a bit assuming.

I'm so very tired of religious organizations equating their interpretations of various religious texts (notice how I'm trying to avoid pointing fingers) to how a free society should be governed. If I'm not mistaken, a lot of people came to this country for religious freedom only to have it turned around into religious dominance and tyrannical control.

I want equality. I want to be able to get married - to a man - and to not be worried about being gay bashed because of that.

For anyone who's curious, I helped her out. I justified helping her, to myself, as part of my non-profit's ideals: non-discrimination. I can't help that she's bigoted so I might as well just give her what she wants. I did wish I had a big "I'M GAY" t-shirts, though, just to make a point.

What would you have done? How do you feel about marriage, equality, and/or gay rights? I'm all ears (and eyes!).

Pounding the Pavement

Modern United States works under a social structure that has been set up by a majority that statistically fits into the same category. What category? The older, white, Christian male.


Unfortunately, the majority of American society does not fit into this category. However, most laws and rulings still reflect the rule of a minority's majority.

Anyone can spend an eternity identifying and lobbying for the rights of all the sub-groups in this society. I, however, tend to work in only two areas: under-privileged and homosexual rights.

Recently, I put together a second volunteer night of serving dinner to a group of LGBTQ youth all under the banner of one organization: Lambert House. This was done on the behalf of Rain City Soccer Club, the club in which Brandon and I both play for various soccer teams, and also happens to serve gay and lesbian soccer players. PS - if you want to buy a calendar, that even features Brandon, go to the website.

The night was a lot of fun, like our previous dinner was as well, however one conversation really caught my attention:

According to the youth at the center, another young guy has recently been quoted in a local newspaper's blog as wanting to start up a Queer Youth Space and is declaring that there is not an organization like this available in Seattle.

The conversation then went on to explain how the guy in the article used to go to Lambert House and that he is personally taking a dig at the current Executive Director. Now, I read the article myself (I'm the kind of person who likes to try to follow the motto: his side, his side, and the truth). The guy in the article doesn't mention Lambert House at all. Instead, he seems to be upset with the fact that there's no club, or place that's similar, for the under-drinking-age to go to. In fact, Lambert House is only brought up and discussed in the comments following the article (want to read it for yourself? Go here).

Some of the opinions brought up by the posters bring up a variety of good points: vicarious living, predation, transparent funding, accurate services, influencing values, etc.

How does someone wanting to give back to the youth of his community do so without seeming like he's in it for an ulterior motive? Basically, he can't. People are going to believe what they regardless of what he does. His only, and most powerful defense, is to keep what he does open and viewable by anyone.

Additionally, in my opinion, the director of a youth center like this one (and really any center for youth anywhere) should have some sort of venue for suggestions from the youth it services. Whether or not this is already in place for the Lambert House is not known, at least by me.

There was a comment that I found to be really interesting. That was the one made by the poster "Catalina Vel-DuRay":

"The thing that has always bugged me about Lambert House (and similar projects) is the tendency on the part of mostly well-meaning volunteers to want to either live vicariously through the young people or - worse - to use these kids to get some sort of karmic "do-over"

And I worry that we tend to impose our own gender stereotypes upon these kids. What about the femmy straight boys who get taunted as a fag, the female athlete who likes boys, but is labeled as a dyke, the pretty cheerleader who is secretly a lesbian, or the jock who hides behind homophobia because he is scared of his sexuality? None of these centers seem to address that - unless things have changed in the years since I knew anything about these places.

Being a teenager is confusing enough without adults inflicting their particular set of values and expectations on you. Gay folks, in particular, should understand that."

What I found interesting in this statement is primarily the poster's points on how youth identify themselves. While it's true, in my experience, that the LGBTQ community tends to have a far wider range of identities than the heterosexual community. These would be failings of both communities to properly serve their kids and not singularly the homosexual population's fault. However, I would argue that there are individuals out there who are willing and capable of breaching both areas of discussion with any youth of any self-identity. The difficulty, then, is finding out who is capable and getting those who need/want that help a way to contact them.

In the first part of Catalina's post, the poster also mentions that some of the older community will live vicariously through the youth or will use their service to them as good karma. I can only speak for myself in this regard, however, I am not setting up these dinners for some sort of karmic reward. I know what I've done and not done in my lifetime and I've accepted whatever happens after I'm gone. Additionally, my life kicks ass. Sure, I'm poor, or sure, sometimes I wish I looked different, but I have an amazing boyfriend, awesome friends, and a one-of-a-kind family. There's no reason for me at all to try to live through these kids. If I, or any of my volunteers say "I wish I had these opportunities growing up" please, do not take that to mean (and I'm not saying the poster was, only that it's a possible deduction) that they, or myself, are attempting to live the lives of these kids.

It's difficult for anyone to live these days and the most some of us can do is to help others in any way they can. For me, that amounts to volunteering. Hopefully, some of you will join me.


That may be a peace sign, but don't get it twisted, I'll still bust your face if you mess with me.

Middle of Nothing

Sometimes I feel like a nut, sometimes I don't.

Originally, I had planned to turn that Almond Joy advertisement into something witty about how I feel like writing. I failed, obviously. However, I still want to write!

I just don't have anything totally interesting or amazingly awesome going on right now that anyone would (read: might) be interested in reading about. Although I don't want to seem like I'm ignoring my blog either (which is debatable).

Christmas is on its way. I can definitely feel the excitement in the air. It's almost as palpable as my enthusiasm over Halloween.

This will be my first major holiday attached to someone else. It's a pretty neat feeling but also a scary one. Will this be the first time I meet Brandon's family? Seven months seems like an awkward amount, both long and not long enough, of a block of time. I'll let him decide as I'm, honestly, scared to meet his family.

The project I've been working on with my cousin, Matt, has come to a slight bump in the road. Mainly on my end as I'm lacking the desire to create new material and instead wishing I had his knowledge to do the visual aspects. Maybe I should start teaching myself. It's not really like I do much at my job...

My mind is always working. Sometimes, I wonder if other people think in the same manner that I do, and for some reason, I can't see that as being possible (my mind is so F-ed in so many ways), meaning that it's always working, always processing, and always thinking creatively (even in ways that are not good for me).

I'm sure Brandon would tell you I'm weird, which I will not deny, or stuck in a fantasy world but I have some good ideas! I promise! The problem is organizing them into strings of thought that others can follow.

I have two different novels I want to write but I lack the desire/know-how/means to start working on them. I'm sure that if I could start, I would finish successfully. Maybe I need some more alone time (as if this past weekend wasn't long enough - I missed the hell out of Brandon while he was out of town). However, the ideas behind these creations are sitting in my head and need some form of release.

When bored or frustrated or annoyed, busy-work tends to organize me. My mind latches on to mundane things like organizing my desk, cleaning our room, doing dishes, finishing laundry, and helps me cope with whatever is rubbing me the wrong (I struggle here with using the word "wrong" as things are not necessarily "bad" but not "perfect" either) way.

I've been busy, lately, with social obligations. And for someone who is independent and almost anti-social by nature, times like these coupled with my job being entirely customer oriented, gives me very little solo-time. That probably explains why I'm feeling such aversion towards my housemates. Not that I dislike them but I'm just not feeling sociable at all so having to interact while I'm at home, which should feel like my safe-zone, just irritates the hell out of me.

Speaking of which, I verbally accosted (sounds more mean than the experience actually was) one of them for leaving absolutely every door and drawer in our kitchen open for two days (I made a point - if only to myself - by not shutting any of them during this time) regarding everything being left open. That person said he thought I was joking. I replied quickly, and without really thinking about what I was saying that "I never joke." Which is a lie. I do joke, but my jokes (I put some thought into this afterwards) always stem from something I believe or I know to be true.

It's funny, writing that out, that I get angry afterwards with seeing no results from my "jokes". I know, to myself, that my joking around is actually serious and others think I'm just playing when I really mean everything I just said. Convoluted as hell but that's the way my cookie crumbles (or should I say Almond Joy as that's how this post began - Almond Joys are gross, by the way). People telling me to lighten up are totally in the right as I see now that I'm so very very high-strung.

I'm tired of writing now so I'm going to stop. You now know, or may have already figured this out if you know me in real-life, more about how I operate. Enjoy!

Let's box it out

I stand. Feet shoulder width apart, right leg slightly farther back than my left. Hands up, however, they are open-handed with palms slightly facing you. These hands are high, covering the sides of my face but not enough to impede my range of vision. My head is lowered giving the impression that my shoulders are hunched.

November 4th is a day after the deadline for ballots in Washington State for a variety of issues. Admittedly, only one of them has the ability to ignite the fire inside my blood. Referendum-71 affects the rights of persons engaging in civil unions. Washington State allows same-sex partners to have civil unions and enjoy the same rights as married couples under a different terminology. Awhile ago, conservatives got enough people to sign a petition to bring Referendum-71's legitimacy under a vote by the state. According to the early news reports, this referendum is looking like it will be approved (meaning that homosexual couples will still be able to have their civil unions and rights afforded by that).

Take a look at this county breakdown from Seattle Times. At first glance you'd think that there's no way that Referendum-71 could possibly be approved. The catch is that the population of King County (where Seattle is located) greatly out numbers any of the other counties in Washington State.

My questions are these: How on earth is rejecting rights to another human being in any way justifiable? Where does that train of thought come from?

I lead with my left. It's a jab. Not too strong but undeniably quick. The power is in my right - my entire body would be behind that hand. I step as I jab with that left. It's not away, it's not to the side, I am moving right at you.

I took some steps last week and yesterday morning that could put me back into school. I'm not worried about being back in an academic setting but I am worried about financial obligations and just being able to afford living. If Brandon had more income I'd be less worried but right now I bring home the bacon and my bacon is anything but impressive.

Luckily, I'd only have to be in school for a year and the job prospects for that career in Seattle are very high. What exactly is this possible career? Stay tuned - you know how I love to encourage suspense and watch the results.

My second blow is in the form of another left-handed jab. Like the first, it's fast and low in power. I move forward closer to you again. There is not much space left. My right never leaves my face unprotected.

Halloween was a couple days ago. This holiday is my favorite. Perhaps it's the dressing up, the parties, the candy, the emphasis on scary things... who knows!? What I do know is that I love this holiday and that it follows my birthday is only another huge thumbs up.

One of soccer teammates calls me the Ginger Terror because of my hair color. This year, I decided to use that to my advantage and create a costume for the Ginger Terror. What do you think?

It's a red-fire wig. Horns. Chest piece and eight-feet extendable (via pulling on cords from my back piece) wings. Hairy leggings and hooves. Just in case anyone had any doubts, I wore a name-tag stating "Ginger Terror" (like that helped, drunk people were still like "what are you????").

It's the right finally, like you could have only expected. And yes, it has come with all of the fury and rage that could be gained by throwing my entire body into it. The blow doesn't end at its target, the follow-through is what actually causes most of the damage. However, there's no posing for effect, the arm is whipped back into form. I am almost on top of you now: there is no escape.

We're nearing the time of the year that is considered the holiday season by most of the United States: Thanksgiving and then Christmas.

This looks like it's going to be another year away from the family for the holidays. To be honest, and this is somewhat selfish of me, I do not want to go home for either holiday. I've become accustomed to my life in Seattle and know now that it is my home. Growing up is natural, I know this, but what makes me different than my siblings who stayed in the Midwest?

Some part of me thinks that the only real reason is my sexual orientation. Missouri, and even Ohio (these are the two places where my family lives), are part of the Bible-belt and as such, cater to very conservative views. There is no room for people who are "different".

In another point of view, I know that these are the areas of our country that need some of the most help. To quote an old saying we're "only as strong as our weakest link" and take no doubt from this statement, bigotry is a weakness. However, I do not think I possess the mental fortitude to bring about change in these areas of our country. For example, I do not even have the desire to combat my family's various takes on things.

When I was back in Columbia or Kirksville (both in Missouri) I would experience long-lasting feelings of wanderlust. The drive to leave the Midwest would tug on my soul. I've accomplished that now and really do not want to go back.

The surprise can be unleashed. I'm so close now that even blocking me will not be much of a help. The next blow comes in the form of a right elbow. I'm tall, I have a large reach and my elbow is not small. There is weight behind the blow and it smashes through what's left of your defenses. I use the momentum of this movement to move under and to my left.

My brother called me last week to tell me happy birthday as well as to ask me something that is very important to him.

Like some of you may know, he is going to Iraq this month. He's a medic, so his combat exposure will hopefully be minimal, however, war is unpredictable and he has had to start preparing for the worst.

He told me that, although he does not expect this happen, in the instance that he would die while in Iraq if I would donate some sperm to his wife so that she could have a child that is the closest representation of my brother, her husband (there are six of us, but only he and I have the exact same parents).

They are looking into freezing some man-juice of his but he wants to have a Plan C: Me.

I told him I would but that I did not want to hear him talk about that ever again. It is tremendously upsetting for me to think about him dying in Iraq. Added to that that I'm gay makes me wonder "how horrible it would be for the only kid I would ever have come from this situation". Brandon being there was a huge comfort. More than he probably realizes.

There is no extra time. I do not give myself, or you, any time to breathe. The new positioning is set quickly and using the momentum behind its rocking-reset, my left foot is swept quickly into the side and back of your right knee. Unbroken, it crumples. Things are nearly over.

Last night my soccer team got its ass handed to it. I do not even know the end score but the team we played was one of the teams we had tied in the past in probably our highest scoring game ever.

Our defense was in shambles and their team was constantly scoring while using the same play. It didn't help that our normal goalie was injured but a team shouldn't be entirely reliant upon one person anyways. My boyfriend alone had close to seven shots on goal. Most of which went wide. Other players had chances to score as well but failed. The entire experience was a shitstorm.

Needless to say, afterwards I was pissed. I take things way too seriously. I'm definitely one of those people that my dad always warned me of becoming: "If you can't take it, don't dish it out."

Talking about things helps me out mentally. The problem is that if I'm pissed about something I have zero desire to talk about it. For some stupid reason I'd rather sit on it and just make it worse. And let me just reinforce this now: I am in no way a friendly person when I'm angry.

Brandon isn't confrontational. In a lot of ways, he's the opposite of me. In this particular way we are polar opposites. I'll come after your ass if I think you've pissed me off and he will just avoid being around you.

I've never been very good at handling my various emotions. When I was younger, I used to beg my dad to let me start a sword collection like the one my cousin had. He would always say the same thing: "Josh, you'd probably get mad at someone and kill one of your siblings. No."

Thanks, dad.

Surviving the after effects of an "awesome" soccer game like the one last night is a credit to Brandon. He's learning how to deal with me and that makes me love him even more. It's even more amazing that he is able to reverse my mood entirely.

This is over. I kick straight out now with my right foot. The leg was raised first before the kick was extended. It is both a push away and a method of removing you from your feet. Do not get up. It will not be pretty.

I love Brandon R.

Age is just a number...

I can't believe it. I know that the difference between 25 and 26 is pretty much just one, a slight number variance and has hardly any effect on my life but the feeling between the two is immense.

At least as a 25 year old, I could claim that I'm still young, still a strapping lad capable of being and doing anything. Now, however, 26 just brings on the nearness of the dreaded... 30. Being 30 seems to signify some sort of death for gay men and almost always seems to be a prelude to a midlife crisis among every male, sexual orientation aside.

How am I going to cope with being on the downhill slope to 30? I'm going to ignore it. At least so far as to ignore it until it gets here. I'll deal with the dreaded 30 when the day actually arrives but for now, I'll accept my 26 as gracefully as an old fart like me can.

As far as celebrating my birthday, Brandon had an entire night and next day planned for us.

We started with my favorite restaurant in Capitol Hill of Seattle. This place is Bleu Bistro where patrons can be served in private little alcoves like the one pictured on the left. The curtains and the setting is what drives my main desire for this place, however, the Wasabi Grilled Cheese and Bleu's Feta Nachos have monopolized our food desires everytime we've been there. They have an amazing listing of drinks too.

Afterwards, we went to a chocolate bar, also in Capitol Hill, called Dilettante Chocolate. We had hot chocolate (his was white chocolate and mine was extra dark) and desserts that put us over the "full" category into "bloated".

Have you ever tried to get drunk while your stomach is already so full that it feels like it might explode? Well, that was our next challenge as we headed down to the Elite for a surprise birthday party.

We both kinda failed at the whole getting drunk thing (there was just no way to compete with all the food in our bellies) and went home to pass out.

Saturday, I was in for more unexpected fun in the form of a trip to a place that I haven't seen the likes of for over a decade: Woodland Park Zoo. We got to see lions! Tigers! Bears! Leopards! Jaguars! Elephants! Even some ducks (seriously, the friggin ducks had invaded every exhibit that had any kind of body of water)! The big cats were my favorite, especially the tigers.

We ended the day with an amazing dinner prepared by one of our soccer club-mates, Todd. I can't even begin to tell you what he made, food-wise, but trust me when I say it is amazing. His blog is here. Check out the 24th of October if you'd like to know exactly what we had.

As of now, I'm winding down the month (October always resonates in my bones) and gearing up for Halloween, my favorite holiday this side of the galaxy.