Wow...

It's been an incredibly long time since I've updated my blog. So much has happened and so much is in the works.

First off, things with X have been insane. I've learned a lot about myself and grown a lot. I feel like I've made some changes for the better about my life. X makes me feel empowered to make decisions on my own because they positively affect me, not because they are slightly beneficial for me but mostly benefit others. I mean, this is my 20s. This is the time to think about myself and do things that I want to do, regardless of how it effects others. I don't own any pets or have any children. I rent my apartment and I'm not married. Absolutely nothing is tying me down and I couldn't be more smitten. I mean, I'm not monster. I don't see myself making decisions to purposely hurt others. But for now, I'm putting myself first and enjoying it.

Second, I'm sure no one noticed it because I'm sure that the 15 people that are still subscribed to this blog are aware: I'm moving in with X next month. He and I are incredibly excited. I've already started to move my stuff in but in about a month or so, I'll be moving furniture. This is a big step for the two of us. He's only lived with one other boyfriend before and I never have. We've also never introduced our boyfriends to our parents and so far, both sets love the other. My mom said, "He's so cute!" And that, my friends, was a direct quote.
It's hard to explain, really, how much it means to have my parents approve of X. They've never really met boys that I've dated. At least not with the knowledge that I was dating them at the time. And to have them approve right off the bat is greatly relieving and reassuring.

Third, things are not great between S. We aren't really friends right now because of some things going on between us. I'm patiently trying to give her the space she asked for. I'm going to stop there because honestly, it's not right for me to air out my problems like that in a forum this public. But know that I have full faith things will return to the way they were and that this isn't the end of S and I.

I started a new job. I work in the production office of a landscaping company. I like to preface my place of employment so that it's clear I'm sitting behind a desk and not out in the field maintaining people's lawns. I love it. I really do. It's just the right amount of stress and humor. The people are nice for the most part but it's really my job to put out fires anyway so dealing with upset people is in the job description. The pay is REALLY nice and helping me pay back a lot of my debt. I've made a list of all the things I want to buy once I've paid all my debt off. The list includes things like a scooter, a new bike since mine was stolen not two weeks after I bought it, new TOMS, a new computer, etc.

R, my pregnant friend, is due any day now. James will be the name of her son and we all couldn't be more excited about the fact that it's almost his birthday. Nowadays, the first thing I do when I wake up is check my phone and make sure I don't have a missed text saying that the baby is coming. I am incredibly excited!!

Things are going pretty nice here, down south. The summer is brutal but there's nothing us Texans can do about that. With almost two weeks of nothing but rain, we're now into the long stretch of the summer where it's just day after day of intense heat. The rest of the country is experiencing a heat wave (or just recently did) and were complaining about having several days in the 90s and low 100s but to Texas, that's just called a Tuesday....psh. Suckers.

Day 9

Today's desk: No desk because I'm lazy :(


Today's completed challenge:

Today's challenge was to make something out of my breakfast before I eat it. Well, I didn't eat breakfast today and the first thing I ate was a candy cane left over from Christmas. There's a few reason's why I decided to spell out love. One is for my childish love for candy canes. I will eat anything with candy canes on them, in them, made out of them, anything. They're delicious. It's one of my favorite candies ever.

I also love Christmas and the idea that candy canes bring me. They remind me of one of my favorite times of the year. It doesn't really feel like Christmas without candy canes....

Today's entry is bullshit. I can't focus on it. I've been lazy about my writing and trying to fill  my life with creativity and now I'm allowing myself to fall into my usual routines of sitting around the house doing nothing. I don't know what to do. I can feel the creativity slipping. How do I keep myself engaged? How do I keep myself interested? Hopefully I can find something soon.

To make up for not having a picture of my desk from today, here's a picture of my first idea of the candy canes and a funny picture of my roommate's dog wearing a bow tie.

Day 8

Today's desk:

Today's completed challenge:

Today my prompts told me to take an old book and change it by cutting, gluing, taping, etc. Anyone that knows me that there's NO WAY I could do that. I considered turning a book into a hide-away-box but 1) that takes forever to do. Trust me, I know, I've looked. And 2) HOW COULD I CHOOSE WHICH ONE OF MY BOOKS TO MAIM!? So ridiculous and yet, so true. I really could not choose. I don't even think if I went out and bought a book just for today's project, I could sit down and destroy it. I mean seriously, I'd rather read Twilight than destroy it. I just can't do it, I'm sorry.

So, I took an oath. In front of all of you and on my desk to forever remind me that I....will never destroy a book. It's cheesy and lame and silly and written at 1:30 AM but it's true. I will never destroy a book to the point that the story can  no longer be read.


Now, don't get me wrong. I was pretty close to buying a copy of Pride and Prejudice and hiding some dog treats in it so my dogs would destroy it for me. But then I thought, "No....because no matter how much my enemy hates me, I'd never want my books destroyed." I'm so fucking benevolent sometimes.

Day 7

Today's desk:

Today's completed challenge:

Today I had to make a stencil for my inspiration. So, I thought about all of my favorite graffiti artists and what they used for their stencils. It all kind of came to me at once. I realized that they all say what they've always wanted to say in the clearest, most concise manner possible. So I thought: "What is it that I've wanted to say to everyone for a long time.....be a hipster."

And honestly? Why not. Just do it. Seriously. It's fun! You don't have to care about anything or worry about being uncool because you just pretend like everyone else around you is the most uncool, thus making you the cool one. You can like strange things and no one cares. Everything you find is art, a photoshoot or some sort of lost treasure. It's amazing to be a hipster. I really think that "hipster" is just secret code for "just act like yourself."


Well, maybe it's not. I mean, it's entirely possible that I am just a hipster at heart. So I embrace my hipsterhood. I pick out clothes based on hipsterness and how many times I've seen it before. I decorate my universe with a hodgepodge of things that don't really make sense but it doesn't really matter because all of it is "soooo me." At least according to my Heathers, it is.

Day 6ish

Today's desk:

Today's completed challenge:

Soo...I was busy yesterday. It may or may not have anything to do with X, the boy I went on a date with. Anyway, so today I had to go into the kitchen and do something with the first fruit I saw. In all honesty, a lemon was the first fruit I saw and I knew it would be. Before I went in there, I tried my best of things to spell out with a lemon but I couldn't think of anything that would matter. So I looked around. Yeah, that's right. I cheated. But you know what? It's my project so step off.

So I saw the orange and again, I was at a loss for words. I couldn't think of anything for an orange besides, "Orange you glad I didn't pick up a banana?" And that's how we got to today. It's not the most glamorous of completed challenges and it's not even the most creative but I've got about 359 more of these soo...there are bound to be a few that I'm just not proud of.


You know, the funny thing is, I AM proud of this. I like the way it turned out! Sure, it's cheesy but look at the picture! You have to admit that the orange rind, the knife, the cutting board, sure the lighting could be better but we're not all perfect. I'm quite happy with my challenge today....less inspired by my desk but that's alright.

Day 5

Today's desk: 

Today's completed challenge:

I cleaned my desk today! Hurray! Still reeling from my date last night, I'm doing my best to be productive, starting with my desk. My goals are to clean the kitchen, vacuum, clean the tub, clean my room, change my sheets and spray my room with frebreeze because for some reason it smells in there. Does anyone else's room get like that? Why does it do that? How do I keep it from happening? I think I just need to change my sheets more often.

One of my postcards made it to the destination! Did I tell you guys about that? I'm writing postcards to strangers via a website: postcrossing.com. It's pretty nifty. You send out postcards to strangers and you get postcards back from other strangers. So yeah, since one of mine arrived (you can have up to 5 'traveling,') I can send out another one! So I need to add that to my list too.

Today's challenge was about collections and it's not unknown that I collect copies of Wuthering Heights. Sooo...I used my collection to spell out, what else, book! It took me a couple of tries. Stacking books is a lot harder than you think and I had to work with books that are ridiculous shapes. And yes, that's the stacks of books I used to spell BOOK sitting on my desk. I've already put them away haha. I'm really liking these daily challenges. I've never felt more creative and I love it! This is what I'm born to do: create something all the time and stress the side of my brain that I used to use constantly. It makes me feel like I'm doing something with my life and I feel accomplished...even after just 5 days. With 360 more days to go, I have a feeling I can totally do this. :)

Day 4ish

Today's desk:

Today's completed challenge:

So I know that this is a day late but I have an excuse. There's a guy. His name is X. And I told X abut my 365 day project and yesterday he asked me what my challenge was: take a five minute walk and make something out of whatever you find there. Document it and leave it for someone else to find. So he told me that my walk should end at his apartment (because he lives about five minutes away.) So I asked what would be waiting for me at the end of my walk. His response?
"Maybe some wine. A good movie. Some cuddling maybe. I might fall asleep."
"You're going to fall asleep on our date?"
"Great. Now I'm nervous."

So that's how my challenge turned into a date. And I have to say, the date was a dream. I've never been on a more romantic date in my life. Half way through the night, I asked him if I could borrow his shoe laces and his bed. He gave me an odd look but relinquished the materials and that's how we got to our picture today: my bow tie, a cat toy and both sets of our shoe laces. A perfect document of our night.

Day 3

Today's desk:

Today's completed challenge:

So today we had to make something out of paper. On my first try, I thought about making a bow tie out of a paper bag. After a few attempts and lots of tape, I got frustrated and ripped it to shreds. It was just nearly impossible to tie without tearing. Also, I don't know if you know this, but paper does not slide against itself. It does not bounce back, it does not fold easily. So yeah. I got frustrated and gave up for a few hours.

I came back and was talking with S about paying rent. We were trying to schedule our day so that we could both get everything done that we needed to get done. She asked me, "Well, what do you have to do today?" and I responded, "I have to write in my blog, read for two more hours, go for a walk, pay rent and make something out of paper....wait, MONEY! It's paper!" and I ran off to make my money origami. I can't really remember when I learned how to do this...or why. But I remember that I was a child around the age of 11. I remember thinking that it was the coolest thing I had ever learned and pretty much folded all of the paper money in the house into little bow ties. My parents were not impressed. I'm certain my mother had half a mind to make me iron all of the money in the house after I had "wrinkled and crinkled all of them," as she put it.

I'm not really sure what it is about bow ties that have suddenly drawn my eye. But I've found that I think they're cute and rarely worn, hence why I've decided to start a trend of bow ties and t-shirts. I don't care what anyone says, I'm doing it. I think it's cute. I'm wearing a bow tie presently. Anyway, so I took my little bow tie money and taped it to my monitor so now, my desk is dressed for ever occasion.

Day 2

Today's desk:

Today's completed challenge:

I'm not really sure what it is that I love the most about giraffes. I feel like they're under appreciated. Also, they're incredibly tall and I kind of wish that I was that tall. I'd love to see that far. I love their black tongues and their spots and the fact that they only eat leaves and grass.

So my challenge today was inspired by two things: WordWorld which is a show that my nephew watches constantly and I find very intrigued by and, of course, my favorite animal the giraffe. First let's talk about this show. So basically it's a show full of cartoon animals where everything is made up of the letters from it's name, like my giraffe up there. It's pretty cool. I'd show you a picture of the show but I don't want you guys to be any more disappointed with my drawing than you already are soo....yeah. Screw you. I AM AN ARTIST! But yeah, it's a pretty interesting show. Things no longer hold their shape when you separate the letters. It makes me wonder what would happen if you separate the letters of the characters...would they die or just be temporarily not there? I feel like there was a show or two where a character's letters fell apart but I'm not really sure what happened. I should record that show on my DVR to see if I can find an episode where that happens. I really shouldn't record it, actually. 1) Our DVR is already full of everything and 2) my roommate already thinks I'm the weirdest person alive. She doesn't need any more reasons.

Potential memoir title? My Roommate S. I feel like I'll end up writing several books about various parts of my life...at least I hope so. Is it painfully clear that I want to be David Sedaris or Augusten Burroughs? I try not to be obnoxious about it but it's true. Does any other writer sit around and think of book titles? Sometimes it's just something I see or something I hear. Sometimes it's just a thought that comes into my head. And I just imagine the book cover with my pen name...the font. My picture on the inside of the jacket. I see it all. I see myself as a published author. I just need the book to come out. You know what hinders the book coming out? When I get thrown off of my groove. Nothing drives me more crazy that being in the flow and thinking that I'm funny and I have so much to say and words are flying onto the page, and someone asks me a question or demands my attention and then all of the sudden...everything is silent. My brain shuts down and stops allowing thoughts and ideas to flow freely from my brain to my fingers. Oh man, that drives me nuts. I don't get frustrated when they interrupt me. They can't help it. They're unaware that it stops me completely. No, I get frustrated with myself because I should be able to get right back to where I was, pick up where I left off and continue on in whatever I was doing. And sometimes I can and sometimes I can't. It's those times that I can't that frustrate me.

So giraffes....what the hell? No one likes giraffes...I mean, they are cute. And I do have this awesome giraffe mug that has this cartoon giraffe that's friends with a monkey and they're both just so happy to be there. It's great. You can see it on my desk in the picture. By the chair. Left. Up. There it is. Giraffe mug! Yeah! But I feel like no one else likes giraffes. That shouldn't be a reason to name an animal as your favorite. I mean, what if someone said cockroaches were their favorite animal? You'd think they were a lunatic and never talk to them again. You'd imagine their home, covered in fake cockroaches. Cockroaches on the bedding, on the towels in the guest bathroom, imprinted on ever cup, plate and bowl, fake ones sitting out, dancing with each other. But how would you know which one's were real and which one's were fake?! What if the cockroaches in her house got really smart and figured out that if they're seen and they just stand really, really still, they would survive. You would never know when you're sitting on her couch and look over to the bookshelf and see a picture frame and you think, "Aw, what a sweet picture frame! It's her holding her pet cockroach and there's a cockroach on the frame! It's so life like. Is it real? No. It's not moving...wait, did it just move? Oh god, I'm not sure if it's real or not."

Anyway, can you spot the giraffe drawing on my desk? I'm thinking I'm going to try and do more of my challenges on my desk. I kind of regret not putting my hand on the desk. I think that'd be cool. And I think I have an even better idea for it...Maybe tomorrow I'll post a bonus picture of my hand on my desk.

Day 1

Today's desk:

Today's completed challenge:

The thing about fitting something into the palm of your hand is that I feel like your palm doesn't have dimensions. I feel like the palm of my hand can hold so much and yet so little. It can hold all of my hopes, dreams, the names of all of my family members, names of friends I see on a daily basis, pens, pencils, money, you...the world. I feel like the palm of my hand is both immensely infinite as well as immensely finite. Within my physical world, it can only hold something about the same size as my heart. (I mean grip. I can definitely hold things larger than my heart depending on weight and how it's proportioned.) But I feel like in the idiomatic sense, the palm of my hand could hold anything and everything. I feel like I'm ill-equipped to imagine things that could fit into the palm of my hand. When I was thinking about this challenge, my first thought was to write a word in the middle of my actual hand and take a picture of that but then I wondered, "What word? Why that word? What does it say about me? What will others think about it?" So I decided to put several words in the palm of my hand. Part of me wishes I had drawn it on my desk...and who knows? Maybe I will later today but I'm just afraid of messing up and paper I can just throw away but I can't throw away my desk.

Speaking of, it's a mess now, isn't it? It's kind of stressing me out. I love to have lots of clean space when I work. That way I'm not compulsively straightening things like I do with the rest of the house. Which is in a rather annoyingly state of shit show right now. Since it was New Year's last night, everyone just left their drinks where they were and went to bed. If I didn't have to be up at 5:00 AM this morning, I would have cleaned while everyone slept but I really needed to be asleep. Sheesh, it's already 5:00 PM! I hate when the day gets away from you.

New horizons

Okay here's the thing....I'm starting this new thing because of my mom.

She bought me this book: 365: Make Something Every Day and Change Your Life! A Daily Creativity Journal by Noah Scalin. I know, longest title ever. Here's a picture of the cover...

So I've decided that this isn't a bad idea. I SHOULD do something everyday for a year. It'll be healthy for me. It'll give me direction and a creative outlet. It'll give me something to do with my days besides sit around and get fat. I've also decided to include getting slimmer into my 365 days. I've decided that before I sit down at my desk, I'm going to do two things: 1) take the dogs on a walk to clear my head, get me out of the house and seeing new things to inspire me. 2) Take a picture of my desk. I'll put the picture at the beginning of each blog post so that you can see my ever changing desk and work space. You can see what I'm dealing with and if you have questions about anything on my desk, please feel free to ask.

So I started reading the book (there's a small introduction at the start) and it says that I need an audience. That's where you come in! I need you to be an audience. And a participating one. If you like what I'm doing, tell your friends. If you have an idea, let me know any way you can. If you see something that you think is cool, tell me! I'll need support and encouragement to do this. I've been sitting around for too long. It's time to take some action and get some creativity out.

I should probably write about what I'll be doing every day for a year. Well, I'll be writing. And taking pictures. I might do a video or two but writing mostly. I'm a writer, it only makes sense. So I'll be writing every day for a year. Sometimes I'll be using the prompts from the book and sometimes I'll just sit down and vent. For a while now, I've been toying with the idea of working on a memoir because I like the idea of having a medium in which to look back at my life and remember everything I've done/worn/eaten/seen/heard/all the good stuff. And what better way to do that, than to write every day for a long period of time and then pick out all the good stuff and publish it in a novel. So I'll be writing. Words are my theme and I'm sticking to them. I also have this idea to make things OUT of words. See also WordWorld on PBS (http://pbskids.org/wordworld/index_flash.html) So that might end up on here. Anyway, I just wanted to write this post to 1) warn anyone who is subscribed to my blog on their RSS feed and 2) get the word out so that I can get the support I need. :)

So yeah....here goes...365 blog posts are coming. I say "coming" because I haven't decided on when I'll start. I want to pick a good, solid date to start on......and I want a few more days of laying around before I get down to business. haha

Souls

What are souls? What are they made of and where are they? Why can we feel them but not describe them?

Sometimes I imagine we're made of a billion points of light swirling around creating something beautiful. Every once and a while our points of light fly out and mix around with someone else's light and then it makes two souls again. And that's how soulmates are made. I beloved I have a soulmate. And sometimes I wonder if it's a man, or my best friend S.

What if my soul mate's light is too far away though? I think it has the power to trandscend. I need it to.

Hello Everyone

So I recently realized that many people that know me in real life read my blog. So, HELLO REAL LIFERS!

Anyway, in other news, I got a mannequin for Christmas. His name is Hank. He's awesome. Everyone thought I was going to start making clothes, and maybe I will, I dunno. But I really wanted him so that I could put outfits on him so I can see what they look like before I wear them.

Does this sound crazy to everyone? Am I the only one who thinks this is a good idea? Because I do. I think it's great. When I explain this to people, they don't understand. They give me looks like I'm a psycho. Why doesn't this make sense to them?

I also got a bunch of stuff that I'm really grateful for. But I'm just really glad for a second chance. I feel like being 24 has given me this feeling of complete and udder renewal. I need my life to pick up from here. I just feel like it's been pretty bad lately and I have some good karma coming my way. You know? Like does anyone else just feel like they take stuff over and over and over so SOMETHING good has to come your way? Yeah. Well, I feel like 24 is that good stuff coming my way.

December 14, 2011

It's my birthday today...I'm 24 years old. I'm 24 years old and I can feel my bones creaking.

I don't know what it is about 24 but all of the sudden, I'm dreading getting older. I suppose it's because it's a reminder of what I don't have: a degree, a man, a real job...you know, the things that everyone wants and apparently has now.

Sometimes I sit around and dream of a rich doctor or lawyer or artist or something will come into my life and sweep me off my feet, give me everything I ever dreamed of and we'll live happily ever after. But it's just a dream.

Sometimes while I'm unloading the dishwasher, I think about the stories...the countless stories that buzz around in my head but never seem to make it onto the page. Mostly, they're incomplete and that's why they never make it. But to be complete, they have to make it to the page. It's a terrible catch-22 that I've imposed on myself.

Sometimes I think about college. I consider going back and finishing my English degree...or maybe starting over and going to culinary school or beauty school or maybe I'll just stay where I'm at and live vicariously through characters on the television, people I invent on my pages and my family and friends.

I'm 24 years old today and I can feel my bones creaking.

So this Heather I know...

Every once in a while, you come across someone in life who understands you in a way that no one else does. And I kind of feel that way about all of my friends. But the one we're discussing tonight, he's gets me a little differently than everyone else. Now, I know that at least 3 out of 5 of my friends read my blog so you others, don't get upset. I've blogged about all of you too. It's his turn now.

By now you know that none of my friend's names are revealed on my blog and this one will be no different.

I met T only a few months ago. Once I had reconnected with my now-over high school crush J, (see http://tinyurl.com/7dkt77t for more information) he invited us to meet his boyfriend in Galveston. S and I couldn't have been more excited to get out of the apartment so we jumped at the chance to lay in the sun with a pair of gay boys. But here's the thing. I had dyed my hair platinum blonde like two months before that so my roots had grown out, my eyebrows looked like caterpillars on my face and the wash had rinsed out leaving my platinum blonde looking more like lemon yellow...it was bad. But I was poor. And I told J that I was embarrassed about the state of my hair and he said, "Oh, don't worry about it. He won't say anything." That's a direct quote. DIRECT QUOTE FROM THE BOYFRIEND!

So there we are, a little drunk, covered in sand and trying not to burn. Being incredibly embarrassed by my hair I figured it was best to just bring it up and apologize for the state of it before anyone had a chance to get in any snide comments...*cough*J*coughcough.* Here's how the conversation went down:

T: I like your hair.
K: Thanks...it's not my natural color.
T: (*completely sarcastic*) Really? I never would have guessed.
K: *mortified*

In hindsight, the situation was pretty hilarious and I really did set myself up for that so while I'm STILL embarrassed about it, I've learned to laugh at it. Anyway, the reason why I told that story was because it was at THAT moment that I realized that T was no bitch to be trifled with. He was fierce and fabulous and completely unexpected.

As T and I got to know each other, we realized that we really needed to take our relationship to the next level. So one night, when getting to know each other, we discovered that not only did T love RuPaul's Drag Race just like me, but he also had aspirations of being a stiletto stomping drag queen! For those who don't watch RPDR or have never seen the 1988 film Heathers, four drag queens called themselves the Heathers because they were the prettiest girls in the competition (RPDR.) Heathers, the movie, was Mean Girls before Mean Girls; they were the prettiest girls in school. And one night, while J and I were drunk and he called me Heather. Then he looked at me, gasped and shrieked, "Oh my god! We're Heathers!" So I shrieked and called T. It should be noted that this is the first time I had ever called him ever and he didn't even have my number yet. Anyway, I left him a voicemail that ended up sounding something like this:

T, just in case you were wondering, you, J and I are now Heathers and we're gonna call each other that and that's who we are from now on. So I'll call you Heather and you call me Heather and we'll both call J Heather because we are WHAT?! Sickening. Heather.

I was drunk. Whatever. The point is, we were no longer friends. We had become girlfriends. And for those of you that aren't gay of for you gay guys that maybe aren't close with other gay guys, you might not understand what that means or what that feels like but it's real. We really are girlfriends. I'd do anything for that girl because we're more than just best friends, we're Heathers.

Odd Things

So sometimes in my life, I sit around and notice how odd everything is. Nothing seems to quite fit and yet, it does.

What I'm talking about is my roommate. She has this way about her that just doesn't seem to make sense to me but to her it does. And honestly, I just have a "Whatever gets the job done" attitude towards it. I think you need a few examples.

Last night I was sleeping peacefully on the couch after a long, hard day of watching shitty television and half-assedly cleaning the apartment. At some point, my roommate sweetly covered me in a blanket and then proceeded to film me snoring. Why, you ask? Because I sounded like a boat....and it's funny and cute when I snore....It makes her imagine what my life will be like when I'm an old man....

Sometimes she'll say things and it sounds like she's talking to me and she's looking at me so I think she's talking to me. But as it turns out, she's talking to herself.

She has a srangly close relationship with animals, particularly dogs. Like...she gets so emotional over animals that I occasionally have to mute the ASPCA commercials and brace myself whenever we drive by people selling puppies out of the back of their van.

White walls make her feel like she's living in this apartment only temporarily. Like she'll have to move back in with her parents when the semester's over.

Mexican food cannot be eaten without sour cream. No exceptions.

She shakes her foot constantly. Like non-stop movement, always shaking the foot. And it shakes the couch and my desk that sits behind the couch. It shakes my soda with it's ice and straw. It shakes the floor and my chair and the lamp on the other side of my desk. It shakes the world. But she does it because without it, she can't focus. Whatever gets the job done, right?


These are just a few examples and I'd love to come up with more but I'm afraid that if I do more than 5, she'll murder me in my sleep....that's another odd thing. She threatens me....but in a kidding manner? No one can be sure.

A Look at Life

So I've realized that there are both awesome and shitty things about my life presently. Here are the lists in pairs (blue for awesome, red for shitty) for your enjoyment:

Last Sunday I had two cups of coffee and an aspirin for breakfast.

Last Sunday I had two cups of coffee and an aspirin for breakfast.

I spent all of today watching television and shopping on-line.

I told my roommate yesterday that if it comes down to it, I'll strip for rent money.

My DVR is filled with shows from Bravo, Logo, the Food Network and all the major networks.

Because I don't work during the day and nothing is on, my DVR is filled with shows I've already seen.....twice.

Sometimes I don't wake up until noon.

Sometimes I don't go outside until after the sun goes down.

I've now planned my wedding, decorated my dream home, revamped my wardrobe and learned how to socialize in rich society thanks to TV.

I've realized how lonely life is when your only human contact is the TV.

My roommate is my best friend.

My roommate is one of 6 people I speak to on a regular basis. (I'm used to that number being somewhere in the 20s.)

I've come to terms with the fact that I'm a hipster.

I'm a hipster.

I usually don't go to bed until at least 3 AM.

I usually get about 4 hours of sleep.

I am a drag queen.

I know nothing about make up.

I've realized that having pets is a lot like having kids.

I have two dogs.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed my list. I find it's nice to take a moment every once and a while and just assess your life. Find the good, the bad and the ugly and try to make it all good. It also helps make me seem like I'm not a complete pessimist. The world's not all THAT bad.........sort of.

Teacher friends

So I have this theory that there are certain friends in your life that are your Teacher Friends. They're the people that you're destined to be friends with so that they can teach you something. Maybe it's how to tie your shoes. Maybe it's to teach you how to love. Who knows? But they're there and they're teaching.

Anyway, so since I was thinking about this. I decided to share with you a few of my teacher friends...

The first one of note came in the form of a short little girl with a crazy last name and huge glasses. We were in love. Well, as in love as two 8 year olds could be. Her name was Trina. (Don't worry, all of these names have been changed.) Trina was an interesting little girl. She didn't have many friends but that didn't seem to bother her. She would just continue to draw little horses in the margins of our text books. She loved horses. And riding bikes. And *Nsync. But most of all, she loved me. She really did. She loved me innocently and without requirement. She didn't care if I loved her back or if I even liked her. And one day she turned to me and said, "You know Kaleb, it's okay that you're different. I'm different too. That's why we're so cool." To this day I don't know why she said that to me. And I'm still not entirely sure what she meant by "different" but I realized that it really WAS okay that I was different. And I loved myself for that. So thanks, Trina, for teaching me the difference.

Another one of my teacher friends has got to be my friend Mitch. Everything about Mitch is huge. He's 6 foot something, a huge personality and a giant heart. He does his best to see the best in everyone and give everyone a fair chance. I've always admired that about him. And I think the day he taught me something was the day that he forgave me for something I once said. I was accidentally mean to him, said something without thinking and really hurt his feelings. But nevertheless, he gave me a second chance.  Mitch taught me that everyone, no matter who they are or what they've done, they deserve a clean slate. Thanks Mitch for teaching me about creating a fair world.

The last one that I'm going to share is my friend Jalell. Jalell is an amazing person. He knows exactly who he is and who he wants to be with for the rest of his life. He's kind, mature and knows how to laugh at life and let things go. Jalell is one of my favorite people on this earth. Recently he taught me how not to be afraid, to go after what I want and REALLY go after it without inhibition or hesitation. He showed me how to fling myself into the universe and not care how long it took me to get there, just as long as I get there eventually. He taught me to be okay with my decisions as long as they were my own. It's because of him that I've really started thinking about my hopes and dreams and forming tangible plans to achieve them. Thank you, Jalell, for teaching me how to dream again.

These are just three of my Teacher Friends. In real life, I have hundreds. I mean, honestly, I have something to learn from each one of my friends. But some stand out more than the others.

Marriage

You know, I think I told myself a long time ago that I would never get married. At first it was because I couldn't get married in a church. I thought I needed faith to enter into the ceremony. But as I grew older and lost what little faith I had in God, I decided that getting married in a church wasn't so important to me. But I still didn't want to get married. I couldn't tell you why, I just never thought that it would happen for me and I was okay with just a boyfriend for the rest of my life. But now....now I think I'd feel guilty if I got married.

I mean, if I'm going to get married, I'm going to want my family there. And the only way to make sure that they'd all come, it'd have to be in Texas. Plus, there's just something about getting married in the state I've lived in my entire life. But let's be honest, Texas will surely be one of the last states to legalize gay marriages, if it does it at all. And I'm just not keen on moving to a state just so that I can get married. I feel like I'm cheating the system and I don't want my marriage to begin with me cheating the system.

And then there's my platform. I have this conviction against getting married while there are still states that will not legalize it. I feel like I shouldn't get married until everyone can get married. I know it sounds silly but why is it fair for me to be happy while "my people" feel oppressed and their lifestyles are considered illegal? I know that I probably won't see all 50 states legalize gay marriage in my lifetime (considering it's only legal in 6 states and DC and I'm 23. [Technically California does not allow it but it's awaiting appeal.]) It just, I dunno. It's my tiny protest. I know it doesn't make sense because I'm giving them what they want but I don't know what else to do from my tiny apartment in Houston.

But I dunno. I think about getting married a lot. Especially recently because a lot of my friends are getting engaged. I think if I'm completely honest with myself, I would say that I've been thinking about what my wedding would look like since I was about 13. I've always pictured it in a church. Not because of religion, I just really like the image of the inside of a church. I imagined clean lines with the flower arrangements with either greens or pale purples but not both. I know the song I want to walk down the aisle to (and yes I will be walking down the aisle.) If my fiance also wants to walk down, that's fine. If he wants to walk down with me, that's fine too. But I will be walking down the aisle regardless. I want to write my own vows and I want a friend to officiate. In my fantasy, it's the friend that set us up because I think that'd be a nice sentiment. I'd have a new suit, my father's cologne, cufflinks from my brother and blue socks. S will be by my side as my maid of honor and any of my brothers that want to be there with me will be welcome. I'd want me and my fiance to wear the same suit and all the men wearing the same suit but I'd want it different than what my fiance and I were wearing. The girls could all wear whatever dress they wanted as long as it matched the flowers.

The reception would be classic. In the evening with chicken and beef served. My cake would be lemon with buttercream frosting. I've picked the song I want to dance with my mother to and the song I want to dance with S to. I know exactly what I want my engagement and wedding pictures to look like. I have an idea of what the invitations would be like.....Needless to say, I've thought about it a lot. But that's kind of the sad part about this blog isn't it? I've spent so much of my life imagining my wedding but it might not happen. In all honesty, it'll probably never happen. And I don't know what I would say if I guy got down on one knee and asked me to spend the rest of his life with him...I don't know. I'd be torn. Am I crazy?

A little progress

Sooo...I've been practicing and practicing with make up. I've tried different colors, different brands, different styles. And I've come to the conclusion that the eyes are a bitch. Seriously. It's SO difficult to get the eyebrows just right. And there's a delicate balance between drag queen and alien. I'll  show you what I mean.

This is me with relatively pretty drag queen make up on. I know I'm making a weird face and my hair is a mess but let's just try our best to look at the make up, shall we?

This is me as an alien. I know that I'm making an even WORSE face but let's just be honest, it's mostly the make up. And what's sad is this was a legitimate attempt at being pretty. It did not work out. It's the eyes. Always the eyes. It also doesn't help that my fake lashes are coated in mascara and lash glue. This was also the day that I broke down and was depressed because all I want for my life is a drag mother to show me how to do my freaking make up.

But I think I can repeat that first picture and make myself at least kind of pretty....right?





There's more to a dragformation than just the make up. A dress is important. Here's the dress as I got it from a friend of mine. It was an old bridesmaid's dress from...who knows. A funeral probably.

And being the crafty gay I am, here's what it'll look like after I'm done with it.

Of course, there's still a lot of sewing and it needs to be bejeweled. I'm also thinking of adding some fun color. Blue, green, maybe a hot pink. Don't worry girl, it'll be fabulous.

There's also the issue of hair. When taking this picture, I realized I HAD to shave my legs. They are way to hairy to ignore. Not only that but I'm going to need to shave my armpits and.....the area in between. I'll spare you pictures of that.

So yesterday, I decided that it was time to get rid of the hair. I went into the bathroom and got my hair trimmer and started going to town. While shaving I realized two things: 1) my legs are WAY more freckled than I thought and 2) if you go 23 years without shaving your legs and then do it in the bathroom, the bathtub can look like a furry creature. So after shaving my legs ONCE with my hair trimmer, it was time to bust out the razor. And let me tell you, for all you readers who are first time shavers, shaving the backs of your legs is impossible. Legitimately impossible. I tried to impose good shaving habits while shaving my legs (going with the direction the hair grew, using shaving cream, never shaving the same area twice without reapplying shaving cream) but all of these when out the window when I kept finding tiny little strips of stubble on the back of my legs.

Half an hour later, I came out with these.

 OOoooOOO! Ahhhhhh! So silky smooth! But now I have the burden of maintaining them. I don't think it'll be a problem. My roommate has gone MONTHS without shaving and she still passes for a girl. But we'll see. When I have more of my transformation complete, I'll upload more pictures. I should be getting a dress and a wig and shoes soon so I'm almost there! Everyone get excited! Too bad I still need a name though...ugh!

Fine. I'll say it.

I've been keeping a secret from people for a while. Sort of just slowly telling people in a sort of "one toe at a time" kind of thing as opposed to "cannon ball into the deep end."

But anyway, I've decided that I want to try drag. I'm not really sure if I'm going to do this professionally or if it's just "yeah maybe I'll do this once in a while" but I want to try it. I've been thinking about being a drag queen for a few months now and I've only been serious about it for a few weeks. So far I've tried to do my own makeup (beat my face, for those not in the know) and it turned out....interestingly. I think the lack of wig really pulls back from it. But I'm pretty broke and finding a nice wig is difficult when you're in the poverty way.

ANYWAY, so yeah. K the drag queen. It's hard...making this decision. For a while, I was kind of embarrassed. I didn't know how people would react.(I still don't know.) But it felt like coming out of the closet all over again. I feel like I have to tell everyone I know about this new chapter in my life and cut out the people who are unwilling to be supportive.

I also feel the need to explain my decision to everyone...if that makes any sense. I need people to understand that I don't want to be a drag queen because I want to BE a woman. I will NEVER want to cut off my penis and replace it with a vagina. It's just not something I want for my life. I want people to still see me as a man. I am a man. And I'd still like to date men who like men. Being a drag queen is like dying my hair blonde. Sure I could change it but why? I like the way it looks and it's fun. So there. I said it. I want to be a drag queen. I am a drag queen......bitches.



Okay so do you want to help me choose  drag name? First, I have to say that I'm in love with all the names that my friends have suggested which is why I'm having such a hard time picking one. I feel like my drag name needs to reflect my drag personality. But what is that? Sex kitten? Silver-tongued she-devil? Innocent but slutty? I'm not really sure. And I'm not really sure how to go about figuring that out. In fact, I'm not really sure about a lot of things. Just kind of flying by the seat of my skirt around here....

Anyway, let's get to the names. I've gotten a lot of help from my friend M, a gay man well versed in gay culture. M suggested Startini as his favorite name. But I'm just always questioning, "Is this right for me?" I mean, I love the name and I do love martini's. And I kind of see myself as a star (cut to me yelling at my roommate, "I AM A CELEBRITY! PEOPLE KNOW WHO I AM!" while drunk at a wedding.)

S, my roommate, suggested Minny Skirt and Tequila Mockingbird. I do love myself a good miniskirt and Tequila Mockingbird plays at my literary side. (Trust. If I could turn Wuthering Heights into a drag name, I'd be all over that shit.)

If I go the sterotypical way (first name = first pet last name = street I grew up on) it'd be DJ Bristol. Which has a fun ring to it but I feel it gives off the wrong vibe. I don't need people asking me to make a remix. Fuck y'all. Do you want to see a man dressed as a woman lip sync for her life or do you want to see a man dressed as a woman punch you in the face because only one of those is happening and I don't hear any music playing.

But anyway. That's my secret. I'm a drag queen with no wig, no dress, no shoes and no name. I've got some make up here though so that's fun....

Shamlessly Stolen

So I'll have to admit. This blog post idea is shamelessly ripped from a friend of mine. She, also a blogger, wrote about the days of the week (no, seriously) and that "feeling" that each gives you. You can read all about it here: http://tinyurl.com/3utjm57 

In fact, you should read her entire blog. She's pretty great at it. She used to write about teacher (http://bothsidesofthedesk.blogspot.com/) so go read that too. ANYWAY, the days of the week. Here's how I view my week:

I mean, let's just be honest here, I only work two days a week. Which, in theory, sounds nice. But when you're living on 100 a week, it blows. But alas, that's my provincial life. And what really makes things worse is those two days are Friday and Saturday. So Sunday through Thursday, I'm sitting at home, working for my job that I do from home...and eat....and watch shit TV...and sleep....a lot. So yeah, on Friday nights when everyone else is getting ready to go out, I'm getting ready for bed. Since I have to wake up at 5:00 AM, I try to be asleep by midnight which means going to bed at 10:00 PM. I repeat this same cycle on Saturday night which sucks because it's, again, a night usually set aside for frivolity.

But, like my blogger friend, I've learned to adapt and change my mindset on which days of the week are dedicated to different activities. Sunday nights are my Friday nights. I beg my friends to go out and drink or dance. Mondays are more like my Saturdays. Lounging around not doing a whole lot. Then Monday nights I'm itching to do something fun. By the time Tuesday rolls around, I'm not really what to feel. I don't have to go to work but I've already had my two days off relief from my work "week." It's kind of like...a second Saturday. I'm typically doing laundry, going to the store, cleaning the apartment, or some other chore that I've put off. Wednesday, I'm typically catching up on reading, writing some and filming for my youtube channel. Thursday I'm cleaning myself up from my week off, posting my videos and planning out my days coming.

It's not a very glamorous life. It's not even that interesting, in my opinion. I'm actually kind of regretting this blog post as I write it but alas, here it is. And it's a lot easier to hit "Post" than to delete all of this. But it makes me curious about what other people's weeks are like and if they have a typical work week or if they're more unconventional like mine....Probably the former. No one's as interesting as me...duh.

Partime Bar, Partime Coffee Shop

Working in a combo bar/coffee shop is....interesting to say the least. Most people are confused by us. "So you're a coffee shop..." they start, their voices trailing off in confusion. "That also sells beer, wine and liquor. Yup." I usually finish the thought for them.

Since I've had experience serving coffee before, I'm saddled with the delightful shifts of opening every Saturday and Sunday morning. Even though the hours are early and they usually keep me from going out with my friends who have "normal" jobs, I actually really love the job. I'm not sure if it's the relaxed dress code of "Oh...I don't know. Some pants and a dark shirt." or the spunky girl that I work with. And apparently I'm the only person that can work with her. I think it's because we're the only two "morning people" that work there. But this entry is less about the awesomeness of my coworker and more about the psycho's that come in to see us.

Like any restaurant/cafe/bar/coffee shop/hipster hangout, we have our regulars. I often wonder if these people have real jobs or if they just sit around and grow organic vegetables and wonder why more people don't wear more burlap. "Once you get past the itchyness, it's really not that bad." I seriously heard that a month ago. All of our regulars can be categorized into three categories: 1) Old hippies that think they're cool because they came to use our free WiFi 2) Hipsters that want to complain about the music we play and won't order anything but will surely smoke pot behind the building and play the vintage Mrs. Pacman machine we have in the corner and 3) Crunchy vegans that will buy all of our vegan pastries and talk about being vegan all the time. What's one thing they all have in common? What could possibly bring this hodge podge of people together? They all LOVE to be overly specific with their drink orders. Here's a sampling of the orders I get twice a week, every week, without fail...

"I want a frosted pint glass, filled with ice and hot coffee poured over it." (By the way, we have iced coffee that's already cold...I'm just saying.)
"I want a coffee with 3/4 of a pump of chocolate."
"Small coffee to go and a small coffee in a RED mug." (We have about 6 different colors...they're all the same size and shape.)
"Large coffee with four pumps of hazelnut, two vanilla, three sugar free vanilla and 1/2 pump of almond."
"Americano with about 2 oz of water."
"Will you just steam some soy milk?" (This one's not weird unless you see the girl. She doesn't drink it, she spends the morning smelling it. I can't make this up.)
"One part coffee, one part Bailey's, three parts Whiskey." (I'm still not sure how we get around serving liquor at 8 AM.)
"Half dark roast, half light roast, simple syrup and pass me the soy milk. You never put enough in."

These people, they're nuts. I firmly believe that they think the more complicated their drink order is, the more sophisticated they are when in fact, it's only bringing them closer to death because I seriously want to jab their eyes out.

But my ALL TIME favorite orders are ones that don't involve coffee at all. Before I get into this, I need to give you a little insight. I don't drink beer. I will if I have to but generally I'll avoid it when I can. The girl I work with is "allergic" to alcohol so she doesn't drink ever. I can tell you what any alcohol tastes like and can even make most cocktails but if you have a beer question...well, it's better if I show you.

Customer: What kind of pale ales do you have?
Me: *blank stare*
C: *Expectant look*
Me: Um....I think Dos Equis is a pale ale....This...this one says pale ale. Do you want this one?
C: Um. No. What else do you have?
Me: Dos.....Equis?? Is...is that a pale ale?
C: Can I just have the Bass on draft?
Me: Surrreee...*walks over to the tap wall and stares at it blankly*

Clearly I have no business working in a bar. Coffee shop? Sure. Me working in a bar is the equivalence of me owning a sports team. I have no idea what I'm doing and would rather make the cheerleaders drag queens, change the mascot to an Abercombie & Fitch model and change the colors to something that complimented my eyes. As I end this blog post, I'll leave you with two more situations: another overly complicated drink and a time when someone asked me about beer. Keep in mind, we open at 7:00 AM.

Time: 7:05 AM
Me: Good morning, good morning! How we doing today? (typical greeting from me.)
Customer: Nothing's good. It's not morning. I'm still asleep.
Me: Um...okay. Maybe you should go home and go back to bed.
C: Are you kicking me out?
Me: No! Of course not! I'm just saying, if you're sleep walking, maybe you should go back to bed.
C: That's just an expression. No one is ever awake until after coffee.
Me: Oh. I didn't know that.
C: *looking around for the girl I work with who's smoking out back* Can I get someone else to make me coffee? This kid's an idiot.
Me: Sorry, just me today. What can I get you?
C: Cubano Americano. Large. For here. Three Splenda's and a splash of soy.
Me: Alright...
*the girl I work with walks in as I'm pulling the espresso shots*
C: YOU LIED! *storms out*
Girl: What did you lie about?
Me: Existing.

Time: 9:18 AM
Customer: What Belgian beers do you have?
Me: *turns and faces the refrigerator for about 3 minutes. Pulls a random beer out.* Thinking "This one came off the shelf that says Belgium." Is this what you want?
C: Shiner Ruby Red? N-no....I want a Belgian beer.
Me: *blank stare* Soooooo.....not....this......one?
C: I'll have a coke.

It happens

Sometimes, I weep. I'll just be sitting there watching TV or reading a book or writing in my journal and my emotions overwhelm me. And I weep. Not loudly, not really even noticeably but I do. Sometimes I weep without tears. Sometimes I weep without reason. And every time I do, I breathe calmly and allow it to wash over me. My emotions are extreme; they always have been. I go from literally jumping up and down with happiness and then I'll hop in the shower to wash the day's sweat off (because it's in the triple digits here in Texas and every day is a new layer of sweat) and I'll find myself pressed against the wall, hands on my knees, water smacking the back of my neck and tears just streaming down my face. I feel overwhelmed. Money overwhelms me. The dogs we keep overwhelm me. My family overwhelms me. And I weep for them. I weep for the animals that have to be euthanized because no one will take them home. I weep for the children that go to bed hungry. I weep for my mother who still supports her sons even though we should be standing on our own feet.

I weep.

I weep out of terror.

I weep out of joy.

I weep out of love.

I weep out of longing.

Sometimes, I weep. But I always.....ALWAYS, collect myself, wipe my face and smile in the mirror. Crying is one of those strange events in life that seems tumultuous and never-ending and strange but afterwards, people feel cleansed and renewed. It's the hurricane of emotions. Our emotional winds blow and the rains fall and afterwards, our worlds are quiet and we begin again.

Let's just be honest

Look, here's the deal, if you're pissed at me. You need to freaking tell me. I hate people that play games and act passively aggressively towards me when they're mad or frustrated. Now, I'll admit that I, on occasion, will act passive aggressively HOWEVER, it's usually a reaction to situations that are just not worth hashing out.

But if you're legitimately mad at me, you need to tell me. HOW ELSE AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT YOU'RE MAD?! Don't give me the, "If you can't tell by the way I'm acting, then I don't even know what to say..." How about telling me why you're mad at me?!

I'm so frustrated with the world sometimes. Why play games? What does it accomplish? Who does it help? How can situations be fixed if people don't discuss it?

Isn't this also the first step towards world peace? Okay, that's extreme. But seriously, peace is a chain reaction. If there's peace in your home, there's peace in your workplace. Then there's peace with strangers. And peace with people in other cities. And peace with other states. And peace with other nations. See what I'm saying? World peace starts at home and grows from there.

I have the best relationship with S because we calmly talk about EVERYTHING! No matter how small or large. Well, okay, sometimes I won't bring up the little things with her but again, that's usually because it's not worth hashing out. But when there's a real problem, we sit each other down calmly, like adults and always begin and end with, "I love you more than anything." It's a great system. I just wish others would be comfortable with this same system. They don't have to say that they love each other but calmly discussing the issue at hand is always a great solution and works 99.9% of the time. I just don't get how others don't see that...

My High School Crush

Well, it's about time I blogged about this and I'm PRAYING that he never reads this but here goes...


In high school, I met a guy named J. He was a friend of a friend and honestly the sweetest guy I had ever met (not to mention easy on the eyes.) We only hung out a few times but every time I had a blast. He was funny and interesting and just an all around sweet guy. J and I were not really "friends" we were more acquaintances. I mean, he was the straight guy with a pretty serious girlfriend and I was the silly gay boy with weird fashion and even weirder hair. We went to different high schools and our circles rarely crossed over BUT like I said, he was a nice guy so I never complained when he was invited. ANYWAY, so one day, being the ridiculous high school boy I was, I mentioned to a few of my girlfriends, "J is so hot, I just want to rub him all over my body." I know, it's the silliest thing I could have ever said but there it is. A few weeks later, I found out that one of those girlfriends TOLD J what I had said. I was mortified. I didn't want to face him ever again. I never objected to him being invited after he found out I said that because I didn't want to be rude. But every time I saw his face, I'd blush bright red and avoid eye contact. I was so embarrassed and I was sure he thought I was the biggest freak of them all. I mean, honestly, who says that?

So life went on and all of us went our separate ways to college. A year later, we got back together for a friend's birthday. It just so happened that this friend and J had remained friends at college and since they're birthdays are pretty close together, they threw a joint party and I was invited.  Great. How can I go to this party, face J, not blush and not get so drunk that I spill everything about how I feel to him. I still had a crush on him and I was certain that he hadn't forgotten what I had said a year later. Well, the party went off without a hitch and thankfully there was someone else there that caused a bigger scene than I ever could so I just stayed in the corner, got drunk and tried not to say something silly.

Now, this seems strange but flash forward five years. The same friend of mine that celebrated her birthday with J invites a bunch of us out for drinks before she goes off to her second year in college. I walked in and who do I see sitting next to her? J....of course. I nearly turned on my heels and ran out of there. All of my embarrassed feeling came flooding back. I was certain he remembered what I said and even more certain that he thought I was the strangest person alive for saying it, not to mention uncomfortable. Rarely do you come across a straight guy in Texas that is okay with being hit on by a gay guy like that. But I stayed because it was important to my friend going to law school. Everyone was talking and drinking and J was sitting on the other end of the table from me. I glanced over and noticed that he was wearing the same shirt I had only in a different color so in attempt to make polite small talk, I mentioned it to him. We slowly started talking and I noticed a certain....flair about him. I texted my roommate S, who actually went to high school with all of these people, "Do you think J is gay? Find out and tell me." So she goes out for a cigarette and takes J with her. By the time they get back, everyone was kind of ready to leave. I invited everyone over to my apartment to hang out and catch up but most people had other things they needed to do. J and one other person were the only two that were cool with coming over. So, we went to my apartment.

In the car, I pressed S for information. Come to find out, J IS GAY! My mind exploded. This straight guy I had a crush on for so long turns out to be gay. I wanted to cry. It was incredible news but also mind blowing because I had just always thought of him as straight. I could really care less if he was straight or gay, it wasn't about his sexuality. It was about the fact that this man that I had a crush on for so long was so unattainable and now...now he wasn't. I couldn't believe it.

At the apartment, S sort of mentioned in front of J and I that he was gay. He looked at me, smiled and said, "You didn't know that, did you?" and I was like, "YES! LET'S DATE!" but said, "No, but that's cool! I'm glad you're happy!" and smiled way too big. As the night wore on, I got up the courage to ask the ultimate question, "So...are you single?" He phone rang before he could answer. He picked it up and talked for a few minutes and at the end he said, "So you're just gonna go home? Okay. I'll see you tomorrow. Good night, I love you.".....I love you. The sound of the words rang in my ears for a minute. He turned back to me and said, "No. I have a boyfriend." My heart dropped out of my butt. With the most honest smile I could muster, I said, "That's great! How long have y'all been dating?" His response? "Um...about two years now." My heart broke through the floor boards and was plummeting towards the Earth's core at this point.

My high school crush, the man I pined for for so long, not only was gay but also had a pretty serious relationship going on. Ahhh the pendulum of attainability swings so quickly. Of course, J is still the sweetest, most hilarious and interesting man I know. I suppose he was always destined to be a crush and never a relationship. I truly am glad that he's found happiness in my life. And I'll just have to settle for friendship with him because I know he'll be a great friend. It'll just take some time to keep my heart from sinking a little every time I see him with his love. And that's okay. I'm used to picking up my own pieces.

Maybe

Maybe I should just move. May e I should just sell all the stuff I can't carry and just move. Out of the city. Out of the state. And just go as far away from here as I can get and start everything over. I could change my name, my hair, my job, the clothes I wear. Maybe I could become a completely different person and just leave this K behind. Its not that I don't love this K. I do, I mean I've been working on him for 23 years. But I can't help but wonder how unbelieveably refreshing it would be to just start everything over with no preconceptions, no judgements and nothing tying me to whom I am here. I don't know. Can I just leave my entire life behind? I might have to if I really want to find out who I am and live the life that will make me happy. Will I ever be happy? Who knows? Maybe...

I am who I am.

I am a bitchy gay man. I am! I know how conive and scheme to get my way. I can cut you down with just a glance. I've been perfecting my doublespeak ever since I was old enough to form sentences. I am a bitchy gay man and if you think that just because you come around me with your beer and sports, I'm gonna go fucking mountain biking with you. I don't want to discuss how you think you know how to play the game but you actually have no idea. I don't like your judgements about how much I smoke and if you make that fucking face at me one more time, I'll rip it the fuck off.

I am a bitchy gay man and your hair is stupid.

I'll just be mad

This blog post is useless. I'm not saying anything interesting or new. No, what I really want to talk about is how angry I am. I'm just so mad all the time. I'm mad that I can't afford to go back to school. I'm mad that decisions in my life are made for me. I'm mad that I allow others to be selfish to the detriment of my happiness. I'm mad that I can't talk about what I want. I'm mad that I can't live the way I want. I'm mad that the guy I want to date just wants to be alone. I'm mad that as much as I tell myself I'm a writer, I still feel like I'm not. I'm mad that I'm poor. I'm mad that I feel like I'm fighting all the time. I feel like my life is a constant battle against something or someone. I'm mad that "I'm sorry" doesn't have meaning any more. I'm mad that "I love you" doesn't either. I'm mad that it feels like I never get what I want and things never go the way I want them to. I'm mad that I have to compromise. I'm mad that at 23 I can't focus on myself even a little bit. I feel like I'm always considering others when I make life decisions and I'm mad that it feels like I'm the only one doing that. I'm mad that I'm mad. I'm mad that as I write this, I can just FEEL the comments building up. "Let's talk about this. I don't want you to be mad. What's wrong? Here are 100 excuses for why you shouldn't feel the way you do." Fuck you. I'm mad and I have a right to be!
It's the most frustrating thing in the world because of how I have to censor myself because of other people. THAT makes me mad. I'm mad that 44 states have yet to legalize gay marriage. I'm mad that I want to get married. I'm mad that this blog post started out about something else and morphed into a post about anger and loathing. I'm mad about wrinkled clothes. I'm mad about dirty dishes. I'm mad about rotten food. I'm mad about high pitched voices. I'm mad at tobacco companies. I'm mad about drinking water. I'm mad about baby talk. I'm mad that I can't let things go and let little things drive me up the wall. I'm mad that I'm so unwilling to compromise. I'm mad that I'm self-centered. I'm mad that I'm vain. I'm mad that I'm apathetic. The phrase "Look on the bright side..." makes me mad. It makes me mad that funerals are being protested. Of all things in the world to protest, you choose funerals? Really? I don't think you could sink any lower. I'm mad that I feel alone in the world on most days. I feel like I'm in high school again with no one to talk to about the problems I'm experiencing in my life.

I wanted this blog to be about happiness and pleasant experiences.  I'm just so angry. And it makes me MORE angry that society acts like it's not okay to be mad. I just want to be mad and not have someone try to fix me or make me feel "better." I feel mad. Let me do that. Let me feel mad and don't try to fix it. You have two choices here: sit down and tell me all the things you're mad about or get the fuck out. Seriously. If you're not in the mood to be mad with me, then just stay the fuck away from me because this anger needs company. I suppose I know the real reason why I'm so angry. I need a gay friend. I felt EXACTLY the same way in high school when all of my friends were straight. Back then, I chalked it up to teen angst. Now that I'm in my twenties, living in my hometown again, with all straight friends and have gone through these feelings before, I understand that I'm mad because I don't have someone that I can just go to lunch with and talk about gay things. Much like men need man friends and women need girl friends, gays need gay friends. And I think this is completely reasonable. I suppose for now, though, I'll just be mad.

Is this thing on?

First, I'm sorry for not posting as much. I told you I felt a reading cycle happening.

Here's what I'm thinking about today: do you ever have perfect moments? When you're just at the right place, at the right time, wearing the right outfit, holding the right prop, with the right music playing, the right lighting and the world is spinning at just the right speed? I had such a moment just now.

It's Tuesday, for one which is perfect. Tuesdays are always the best days for being productive and lazy at the same time. When I realize that it's Tuesday, I always thing, "Well, I should get stuff done because I didn't do anything on Monday because I was so hungover. But on the other hand, I have the rest of the week to get all of this stuff done so I'll just do a little bit, plan my week out as I go." See? Productive yet lazy.

It's also right around noon. I think of all times of the day, noon is my favorite. It means it's lunch time. It means the day is half over. It means that I can stop saying "Good morning!" because no one likes mornings that much. The sun is out but for some reason, it's not hot. There might a breeze but it's not noticeable. The cicada's are out and I can't tell if that's normal or weird.

I have my iPod playing the jovial tunes of Owl City. Hey, I know what I like, okay? And I like pop music. Get off me. B, the dog, has come to visit and lay on top of my dirty underwear on the floor. I have a coffee mug of Dr. Pepper because I'd rather drink out of a coffee mug than anything else and I'm just not in the mood for actual coffee right now. I'm smoking in my room which makes me feel not only aloof but also incredibly cliche and I love it.

The only thing that could possibly make this better would be the gentle humming of my typewriter sporadically interrupted by the thwacking of the keys. I miss that old girl. She died recently. Her name was June (the month I bought her in.) She died of a fatal ribbon rupture. I was attempting to adjust it and ripped the ribbon. They have ceased manufacturing typewriter ribbons now. So she sits like a ghost in my closet. A useless, romantic dream of a 20 something writer hoping to make it big.

So my moment was perfect. I feel if more of us treasured perfect moments like that more often, the world would be a lot happier of a place. We would realize how trivial some of our problems are and grudges would be let go. Beauty queens everywhere would get their wish: world peace.

Oh. My. God. That was either brilliant and beautiful or incredibly sappy and disgusting. I can't really tell which.....you know...it's interesting how quickly emotions can change. I was JUST having a perfect minute and now....Now I miss R, my friend in the Peace Corps. I wish she were home and I hope she's happy. I worry about her happiness sometimes. I feel like she's always looking for it but doesn't realize that it's all around her. Happiness is a funny thing if you think about it long enough. It happens like waves on the shore. Sometimes the waves crash quickly and pull back over and over. And sometimes the waves will swell and seep deeply into the sand, warming itself in the sun. Yeah, happiness is a funny thing...

Let's talk about cliches for a minute. You know how sometimes, people want that "movie moment." They want to be Carrie Bradshaw and live lushly in New York. Or they want to be Bruce Wayne, billionaire by day, striking Batman by night. Maybe it's not even that extravagant. Sometimes they just want that perfect movie minute where their handsome boyfriend takes them for a walk in the snow and leads you over to where he's written "Will you marry me?" in the snow on the path and  the next thing you know, there's a ring on your finger and you're crying and nodding and kissing and embracing. I'm not saying everyone wants these moments but they are out there. And I am one of them. And sometimes I wonder, are these movie moments cliche? And what does that say about the person who wants their life to be cliche?
(By the way, how cliche was THAT moment when I wrote that last line? I was SOOO Carrie Bradshaw minus the New York and plus a penis.)