2010G-Card

My friend Mike gives me such a hard time about wanting a boyfriend so badly. He is always saying that he doesn't understand why it has to be the "Be All, end All" and why can't people just be happy being single.

I've done enough. I've seen all I want to see. Trust me. I can call it quits for now.

I think it is silly how there are all of these gay men out there that are in their 30s, 40s, 50s and up and they don't show any signs of slowing down any time soon. Is this what my gay future has to offer? I'm tired now and I'm only 27. I can't imagine how I will feel when I am that age.

When I talk to my friend I can tell that he is completely satisfied with the idea of not settling down anytime soon. That is fine. But for me. This is what I want, and I want it right now. I want to find someone that I click with immediately. I want to settle into a relationship fast but so fast that it was effortless to get through. I want things to come naturally and not feel so planned out or orchestrated.

I met this guy for a date and the date was awful. I think it was because I had not been on a date in so long that I was nervous. He seemed nervous too. But knowing me and my self-consciousness I had a hard time differentiating his anxiety from his disinterest. I felt like he was either afraid of me (which is not good) or that he was just so completely not interested in me.

This is the part I hate about dating. It is that time in the date (typically the beginning stages of a night that has yet unfolded) when there are no boundaries. It is best to get out early. At least that way I have time to make it home and order a pizza and cry throughout an entire episode of Grey's Anatomy. But no, you sit through it and it gets worse and worse. This is the worst kind of date to be on because you are thinking two things in your head the entire time and having to keep up with both thoughts while the other person is giving you nothing to work with.

He asked me lots of questions, which meant that I did most of the talking. When it is right, it's right, and in this case it did not seem so. I'm not a question asker. I actually hate asking questions. Well. I take it back. I love to ask questions. But only if it is something that is really intriguing. I don't think that you can really find out or know that much about someone by asking them simple questions like "how many brothers and sisters do you have?", or "So you grew up in Charlotte and were there your whole life?"

I mean. This is dumb.

He kept asking me questions so much so that by the time we got on the topic of gay marriage I should have just ended the date myself and called dominos right away. It was all downhill from here.

When it comes to gay marriage I sound so bitter and awful that I wouldn't want to date myself.

So that was done.

It is exhausting to think that this was the last real date that I had. It seems like nobody wants to just date and be friends and see where things go. It was as if on that date that we had both had too high expectations and that we were both getting nervous about nothing. We had no connection. So I was not upset when we ended it.

I with I knew how to not be so awkward. In that moment there is a sense of rejection even though the feeling was mutual among the two of us. Why can't we both be so brazen as to say to one another, "Hey dude, lets just be friends and see where it goes, later buddy!"

Simple as that.

In other news I am still longing for someone to come sweep me off my feet. Its getting colder outside and the timeline is getting shorter for having a permanent man to kiss even without the mistletoe. I have gone so far as to start joking about turning in my gay card by the end of the year but I am only half joking.

I read some articles a while back about how couples in England (I think) were straight women that married gay men. They collectively agreed to have/raise children together but to have separate sexual lives apart from one another otherwise. There is something to be said about the importance of companionship. I think it would be nice to raise a child with a girlfriend of mine that I was close to. I think finding something like that might even make me feel more loved than how I feel when I am out on my own searching for it.

We shall see what 2010 brings to the table.

Let's Get Unconscious, Honey

This blog is called bedtime stories because it is one of my all time favorite Madonna songs and videos. I love the surrealism in the video version of the song and I love the background vocals chanting "Let's get unconscious, honey". It sings praises of the unconscious and it speaks out on how useless words can feel at most times. No matter how much talking we seem to exhaust our efforts on there are many times when our words seem to fall flat without meaning or cause.

"Today is the last day that I'm using words...they've gone out, lost their meaning, don't function anymore..."

That is how I feel today. I got a phone call from someone at work today that had misinterpreted an email that I had sent. They perceived this email to have an aggressive and/or abrasive tone when in fact it was in no sort meant with such intent. During our (seemingly pointless and one-sided) phone "conversation" (the quotations are assuming that a conversation is held between TWO consenting adults and not just one) I was unable to get a word in edgewise in order to defend my point of view via original email. It was not very fair. I felt like my words were useless so I chose to use none. If utilizing my words was not being effective, then I opted to use none in order to get the mission accomplished. The mission was to make it a point not to send emails as such and the lesson learned was to just pick up the phone and call instead.

I hate bearing the blunt of someone else's misgivings. It feels as if this anger that was evoked from the email was not solely based on the power of my one single email. It must have been a conglomerate of issues that had built upon one another.

I mean when you think about it...this would have meant that my email held way more power than I had ever originally intended. I think that it is funny, this emailing back and forth. You learn early on from online dating and chatting that your words or phrases can quickly be read in the totally wrong context. It is frustrating and you feel as though your lesson has been learned. We obsess over and over about our emails before actually pressing send. We read them to one another. We delete the entire thing and start over again. We even go as far as to save a rough draft and revisit this email later.

So with that said, one would think that you might recognize this delicate and sensitive form of communication and not take it too seriously when read in the wrong manner.

I don't get it.

Today is the last day that I'm using words...

Ol' Aunt Mullard

It would be pretty safe to say that two of my all time favorite relatives would be my Uncle Alvin and Aunt Mildred. As a child I stayed with them often (to my recollection) and every time I did it was a different kind of fun. I've mentioned before that my family is part whoopie cushion.

Needless to say, Aunt Mildred and Uncle Alvin are on the whoopie side of this coushion.

Their house was in desperate need of an update. There was nothing modern about it by any means. It was a ranch style house with laminate floors in the kitchen, a bumpy 70's style carpeting throughout the hallways and the living room and a furnace-style fire place in the middle of everything. You know, the kind that is circular and black and has tubing that goes up through the roof, you put coal or wood or whatever (I really don't know and can't remember) to use it. They had an old TV set that sat on the floor but was one that had wood built around it to make it look like furniture. I loved their living room. Even though they smoked cigarettes so religiously that my sweet Aunt Mildred sounded like that of Ebenezer Scrooge. Her voice was raspy. Every now and then it was almost weezy. She coughed if she spoke too much but she was one of the sweetest women I have ever known.

I can remember a big long stair case going from the back door of her house to the backyard. I remember a big (scary) dog that lived on the other side of the fence, even though it was only scary as a child and a dog that wouldn't harm a fly when I was older. I remember being in the backyard with Cousin John Arthur and playing Mother-May-I with Aunt Deborah. I remember John Arthur talking about how he missed his dad who was Aunt Mildred's Son. I remember him not really ever being around except probably 5 times in my entire childhood (which were probably not many more than the times that John Arthur got to see him either). I can remember John Arthur's anger and frustration when his father didn't show up to his own mother's funeral and I can remember being angry myself at John Arthur's father. I had a hard time imagining what kind of son wouldn't show up to his mother's funeral especially if his mother had been Mildred.

As a child I know I was one of her all time favorites. I was lucky to only ever catch the softer side of Mildred in my youthful bliss. It was Uncle Alvin that seemed to bear the blunt of most of Mildred's insults and yet in a way they were only insults of love.

During one of our many Thanksgiving gatherings my mother jovially asked Aunt Mildred if she was only giving Alvin a hard time because she loved him just so much, and under her breath she muttered, "Pshhh...Shit." We all smiled at one another but my mother let out a "woop!" and quickly scolded her by name, "Mildred!"

At family gatherings you could know when it was official that Aunt Mildred had shown up because the house was filled with the smell of her collard greens. She brought them to every single gathering that we had, it was always "her thing" to bring. I think she was probably one of the only ones to ever eat them, but regardless, she would never think of not showing up with a pot full of them on her next visit.

Aunt Mildred's biggest life lesson that she taught to me was this: "Jesus loves". Its an important one. It is simple and it is true. From an early age I can remember her trying to teach me the song, "I've got the joy, joy, joy, joy down in my heart...where?" The song goes on to utter lines such as "I've got the love of Jesus...down in my heart...where?" Mildred's heart was the biggest one I had ever known. She loved her family so much and I miss her often and wish that I would have known her as an adult.

Uncle Alvin was with us for some time after Mildred's passing. He married into our family when he married Aunt Mildred, but he was ours and we would claim him in any realm or respect. We loved him just as much as we loved Aunt Mildred. I can remember having dinner at my Aunt Deborah's house and giving Uncle Alvin a hard time about black people. He was from a different era, and I always found it fun to try to challenge his thoughts and views. We were having a discussion about how nobody at the table was racist. (In truth, if you have to make a point to discuss it, are you really NOT racist?) Regardless. I asked Alvin what he thought of me dating a black girl. (At the time my family didn't realize that I wouldn't be dating ANY girls, let alone a black one!) He huffed and puffed and sighed. He said, "Lord I hope I am dead in my grave before that happens!". We laughed because we could acknowledge how silly he was being.

There was a lot of fun to be had when Uncle Alvin and Aunt Mildred were around. I remember a time when I was staying at my Aunt Deborah's house and Mildred had called over there to speak with me and my cousin John Arther. Deborah tried to hand the phone to me and I pushed it away proclaiming, "I don't wanna talk to Ol' Mullard". Deborah laughs and laughs when she tells this story. I don't like to think about it. I don't like acknowledging there ever being a time when I didn't want to talk to Ol' Aunt Mullard seeing as how now I don't get the chance to.

She was full of old southern wisdoms and I'd give anything to have a little piece of that right about now.

Appalachia and the Hereafter

For my first two years of college I attended Appalachian State University in Boone, North Carolina. If any of you have ever met me your first instinct would be to ask "what on earth led you to attend that school?"

At the time it was a venture to escape and a journey to set myself apart. My older brother had attended NC State and my older sister went to UNC-Chapel Hill. I did not want to follow in anyone of their footsteps. They were both very successful in school. My brother's smarts came naturally to him, he went on to accomplish his PhD in mechanical engineering and is now a professional smarty pants. My sister on the other hand struggled through out high school but made it a point to study hard and develop a strong work ethic through her studies making her very successful at a tough college as well.

And then there was me. I was always somewhere in between the two. Smarts came natural in certain academic efforts and if I had just tried a little harder in my studies I would have been what one would call VERY successful as well. Looking back I know very well that I did not give it my best effort. All of that fault is place upon myself in retrospect. I regretfully should have tried harder and I would be more proud of myself for completing college. Looking back I feel like it was just something that I showed up for and not something that I really put much effort in to and I regret it a lot. So much so that I reminisce about my days in Boone and wish wholeheartedly that I could just do it all over again.

I did not finish out my schooling at Appalachian State however, I transferred to the University of North Carolina at Charlotte which happened to be my Dad's alma mater, purely out of coincidence. Small town life was just not for me. I needed to find 24 hour CVS locations and restaurants that served liquor by the glass. I needed bigger and better.

On quiet days and nights off I miss the "luxuries" of Boone, North Carolina. The mountains and fall foiliage at your fingertips. In a day you could venture up the Blue Ridge parkway and find a little quiet spot and sit on a rock that overlooks all of God's beautiful creation. You can be alone. You can be quiet. You can pray. You can wish. I miss this feeling. This feeling of just you and no one else. In the midst of the most gorgeous mountains and landscaping.

There is also something I miss about being able to roll out of bed and walk into a restaurant like Boone Bagelry and order a Bagelicious on a Spinach Bagel for breakfast.

It is unfortunate that when you get out on your own and begin developing a career you realize that it would NEVER take you back to Boone. What else is going on in Boone? Nothing. That is the beauty and the downfall of the entire town altogether.

I miss it so. I realize that it was necessary to escape to pursue my great endeavors but oh how nice would it be to go back sometime soon.

Dear Happy Appie, I love you.