I guess it was inevitable. I mean, I try not to categorize myself, but when it's still such an issue in my life even still, it bears mentioning.
So today, April 27th, is the day that I decided to come out. The first person that I ever told was my mom, and it was because she kept probing as to why I didn't have nor want a girlfriend. But let me back up.
For those of a curious nature but too poilte or afraid to ask me any questions about it, I'll dispel some of your worries or fears right now. You can keep reading without fear of retribution from me, as I won't know if you read it or not (unless you comment non-anonymously).
First of all, as to whether it's a question of choosing to be gay or being born that way, I have to say that it's actually a combination of both. Before anyone flies off of the handle, let me explain. I have always been attracted to men. It's no more weird or alien to me than any straight guy being attracted to women. That's the part that I did not choose. The part that I did choose was to acknowledge it and not fight what I feel.
If you ask for an age that I "just knew", I can only say that it was around the time when everyone starts to feel that way about other people. A good approximation of age would be when I was in 5th grade, or about 12 years old.
Anyway, the first time that I actually fell for someone, I really didn't know what came over me. I was unfamiliar with the flood of emotions (since I never let myself like anyone out of guilt, and therefore had not experienced it previously). I started to miss him and think about him all of the time. It got to the point where I didn't have a good day until I saw him. You know, typical middle school crush stuff, right? Well, right. It's supposed to be middle school stuff.
Which leads me to admit something else. I'm not emotionally the same age as I am intellectually. I understand what emotions I feel, but I supressed them for so long, (about 9 years) that my emotional age is only around 15. It may sound like pure bullshit to you, but it's the truth. If you wonder why I talk about guys and who I like so much, imagine when you were 15. Thought so.
However, all of the practice supressing my emotions has made me rather good at controlling them, though I'm unfamiliar with them. It sounds odd, but it's the truth. Perhaps it may explain (not excuse) why I get angry or fed up so quickly in conflicts - I never let myself get angry, so when I do, it's not tempered at all, unless I actively try to not get angry.
Anyway, I came out to my mom during the first day of spring break in 2001. I was unpacking some stuff, and she started to ask me about any girls at school that I liked or was interested in. I told her, quite simply, "no". She kept probing. Mind you, I was still "in like" with the first person ever, so I was dealing with all kinds of emotions (from guilt, fear, loss, like, lust, and happiness all rolled together) that normally accompany such things. Needless to say, I was so tired (no real way to put that ammount of exhaustion into words) of hiding it and didn't want to deal with all of her questions. So I told her.
I have never regretted it, nor have I looked back. If I didn't admit it or come to terms with it, I would very assuredly not have been here to type or talk about it.
So. Happy 3 years Outness to me. Yeah.
I don't usually post stuff like this, but the "Party Song" hit just a bit too close to home.
I heard that every Blogger is doing this:
1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open to page 23.
3. Find the fifth sentence on that page.
4. Post the text of the sentence in your journal along with these instructions.
"It would hardly be fitting for the Eugenics Record Office to hold them back too long from their rightful destiny of producing families and passing on their genetic treasure."
From DNA: The Secret of Life, by James D. Watson. The section was from Chapter 1, Beginnings of Genetics: From Mendel to Hitler, and went on to discuss the Eugenics Movement in the United States.
Graves, graves. Go away. Let me work during the day.
I used to like the grave shift, but you know what? I don't anymore. Oh no. It's a fact. I'll be the first to admit it. It bites.
I liked graves before because it was a new experience; working late at night, learning new things, being completely unsupervised - it was all so cool to me.
Now though, hard reality once again slaps me across the face as if to say "No, Tony. Life still sucks for you. Bad. No biscuit." Things are getting old really fast. It's not a matter of motivation, rather, I've just seen it all before. I want something new. Something exciting; the way it was in the Golden Age a year ago.
Of course, I can't be so lucky. No one can. I just don't want to devolve into those grumpy veterans that have been doing it for years. You know, the kind that are all like, "Hey, you little freak, come help me with this."
And I'm like, "Hey, yeah, sure! Isn't this the best job evar?!"
Then they're all, "No."
I still look at them with pity - they don't know what they want to do next in their lives and make it hard for everone else to stay upbeat. But I'm different. I know that I'm meant for something more. As to what, I'm not sure, but I can feel the potential welling up inside me. It's as though I'm in a larval stage awaiting to be counted among the pupae. Eventually, I'll mutate and emerge as something new. That is of course, until reality wants to slap me again and put me back in my place as a snot-nosed, muckraking upstart. Until that point, all I can say is, "I am Fermentation."
Oh well. Back to work I guess. It's not like a supervisor (or anyone else, for that matter) is even here to tell me to get my ass away from the computer. Maybe I'll walk around in the above world (The Office) and steal some pens or something. After all, I'm already finished with everything for the night, and the almost hypnotic buzzing of my fluorescent dungeon isn't as comforting as usual.
Ah, the grave shift. There's nothing quite like it. As I sit back and wonder at what everyone else close to me is doing, I realize that they're probably sleeping - though, I'm not exactly sure...
I know that I have my work outlined for me. Jason is probably busy being a new father. Well, that and juggling being a husband, having a job, going to school and still being able to do kung fu backwards. You know, he's probably lucky if he sleeps, come to think of it.
Then there's Bug. He keeps hours even more bizzare than a complete psychotic. Couple that with the fact that he works with half-wits that don't know their brains from their ass, and you get someone who can't sleep. Hmm.
And Gio. Well, his problem derives from my ever-changing schedule and trying to chill with me because of it. However, you have to pair that with the fact that he dreams in Hex and is trying to program a completely alien game system from scratch - it doesn't bode well for the sleep department.
Of course, Owen is just crazy for actually choosing to live in Russia, of all forsaken cold places. The racism, cold, crime, people, cold, healthcare, and cold would scare anyone enough to stay awake. Not only that, it's cold there. He's probably awake on the other side of the world while this side is asleep anyway (except other gravers, of course).
So at first glance, sure, I may be envious of the restful trip to Slumberland that all of my friends get - but in reality, we're all a bunch of insomniacs that struggle with the fact that we aren't allowed sleep anymore.
Don't you hate it when you're on vacation for a week and your natural sleeping schedule takes over from lack of obligation?
Well, it happens gradually, but I end up going to bed at around 6 or 7 in the morning and then waking up anywhere from noon to 2 in the afternoon. Today I went for a record and rolled out of bed at 4:30. Usually, this wouldn't bother me so much, but it makes me feel kind of useless.
I mean, I still get everything done around the apartment (like fixing that damn sqeaking bathroom door, calling the repair guy to put that carpeting back in place, etc.) but when I answer the door to some visitors, I'm still walking around in my PJs with my unkempt afronova hair.
Even worse, I go out running and swimming, and look forward to the rest of the day - though the clock shows 7PM. The world starts to slow down, and by 9, everone has already had dinner and is getting ready for bed. I'm still up and ready to go.
What do I do with all of this excessive energy at night? Well, I've been trying to write a story, though I think it may degrade to an anthology. I've been making scenarios and general outlines for my Blue Planet players, and I've been playing on the computer. Still, even though I'm pretty content with doing that stuff, I still feel like I've contributed nothing the the day world.
Of course, I can rationalize everything: I'm working the graveyard shift for the next three weeks in a row. It starts at 9PM and goes until 6AM.
So why do I feel useless for going to bed so late, and waking up even later?
I know that I'm single. Everyone else knows that I'm single too. However, I don't need to be reminded of it every single day when I go to work, when I see my cousin and her boyfriend, or when I see two people happy to be with one another.
When people ask me why I'm single, I tell them that it's because the guys that I'm interested in are all straight. Call it my curse, but as my straight friend Gio says it, "flamers and fruitcakes need not apply". He's actually very right.
I like guys that are guys - not guys that are women trapped in a man's body. I don't like the stereotypical lisp, the 17 year old boy look, limp wrists, or anything that even remotely appears to be "gay" on a guy. And I hate the term "boi".
I'm looking for a guy that I can sit and talk with while I wonder "is this guy really gay"? I like guys that are rough around the edges, a bit rugged, and can take a hit if they get in a fight. Granted, I'm not looking for a caveman named Gronk either. He has to be articulate, well mannered, an generally friendly.
Introversion is ok, but I like more outgoing types. If he likes video games and other nerdy pasttimes like RPGs and computer games, then that's a plus. Having a job and a modicum of independence is key as well, though I can make an exception if he's still in school.
Recently, I've been enjoying physical activity a great deal more than I used to. If he can keep up with me or introduce me to something new, then I'm all for that too.
Physically, I like guys that are my height or a little taller (but not too tall). Dark hair and light eyes are nice too, but not required. It all depends on the person.
I don't think that I ask too much. The main problem is that there have been precisely 4 men in my life that have fit the bill, but 3 are straight, and one is taken. Such is life.
I like competitive activities, but I'm not quite sure if dodgeball counts as a something competitive. To me, it's more of a "dodge or be mercilessly and viciously beaten down by people that are way stronger than they were in second grade".
So, last Wednesday, a pair of charming young ladies came over to my cube as the lunch hour was coming to a close. They asked how I was doing, and invited me to a game of dodgeball later that afternoon. Thinking that they couldn't possibly offer any kind of real challenge at all, I kind of rolled my eyes.
"Dodgeball?" I said, "isn't that something you play when you're eight"?
"Well, yes." One of the women explained, "But this is 'Street Dodgeball', it doesn't use rules from grade school."
I still wasn't really that interested, but she had a valuable chip to bargain with, "[The guy that I like] is going to play. You should come." It struck a nerve, and she knew it.
"So what's that supposed to mean"? I asked.
"Oh, nothing." (she smiles) "He's just vicious, that's all".
She had me, and she smirked as she walked away "See you after 5 at the park". It was all too easy for her.
So, after my shift, I headed to the park across the street, expecting a fun little game of dodgeball. Little did I know that I was willingly walking into a deathtrap.
The park seemed typical for the late afternoon - kids running and screaming in the playground, little league games, and some guys playing soccer off in the middle of the grass expanse. Then, I saw my group walking toward the far end of the field; a place of sparse grassy tufts and large dirt areas.
So I followed, and as expected, [the guy that I like] was indeed there. We walked over to the far patch where the crows were circling, and we started counting off numbers to be on teams.
At first, we played regular dodgeball, with the two teams, until one of the young ladies that invited me threw the ball down and said, "ok, enough of this pussy schoolyard shit". "Not in".
At once, like some kind of tribal signal, they started calling "Not in". The unlucky ones that didn't know to say it (me) or were too slow (some of the others) were to be in the center.
Five of us were in the middle of a circle. The other five were on the outside, armed with two very dense playground quality balls.
Before I could react, they started throwing. I was nailed repeatedly. They were insidious - The girls would aim for your feet, either tripping or otherwise unbalancing their targets, while the guys would take advantage of that and nail you on the way down, while you were down, or in the back.
This happened repeatedly. Try as I could, I kept getting hammered. The one young lady that invited me to this little "game" knew full well that I was distracted by [the guy that I like], so she kept hitting me as much as she could. There was an incident where she hit me so hard that I fell back, and she fell down from laughing.
I didn't think that it was funny. Still being in the middle, I grabbed the ball, ran to the outside of the circle, wound up with the ball over my head, and lanunched it like a meteor at her while she was still on the ground.
From that point on, I was her sole target. Though I was still everyone else's as well.
I went to dinner and a movie that night with Gio and Bug, even though I was horribly beaten and bruised.
What I thought was going to be a pleasant nastalgic game ended up being a brutal beatdown, with yours truly as the main course. Now I'm wondering if I should take them all to court for gay bashing.
I'm not usually one to post about politics, wars, or religion, but this particular story caught my attention - mostly because it combines all three.
So, our government is planning on handing over Iraq (whose old regime was removed) to another group of leaders that uphold the same ideals as the former state?
I don't understand. The other groups in Iraq were basically too weak to overthrow the former government and take control for themselves, but all of a sudden, they surface and start making demands when the U.S. and allies clear the way? That's pure shit!
Why in the Hell would we give any of these other groups any kind of power over the government if they're just going to do the same thing? This little shit group is saying "we want America out of here", when in reality, we're the only reason that they have any room at all to speak out and be visible.
Despite what the author if the article is saying (if I'm getting this right), we should not negotiate anything with more violent groups. They don't want any more blood spilled on their holy lands, huh? Then why are they still killing people there? Hmm? AND, if the temple is so sacred that "American scum" shouldn't be allowed in it, they why did they murder that religious leader in that same temple after his one year exile in London?
Whatever. If we let petty religious warlords make demands, and then negotiate with them, then nothing will ever change; especially if we give them power. Still, occupying Iraq for any longer will lead to more anti-American nationals that want to get back to killing each other anyway. What can we do?
I had the weirdest dream last night.
I was invited to participate in some research convention to contribute my ideas to the field of "nutritional biochemistry" (don't ask me, it was just a dream).
So I go to this convention, and there are a slew of people a whole lot smarter than I am talking about things I couldn't even comprehend. I was trying to mingle, but kept my mouth shut because I didn't know half of what was going on. Out of the crowd, these two scientists (one guy and one woman - they both looked my age) came up to me and started asking questions about people that I knew.
I told them what I could, and afterward, they asked everyone in the convention to leave, exept for me and one other lady. They explained that they were looking for answers about the Earth, and that the two of us were the only ones that they really felt comfortable talking to.
They pulled me and this lady aside into a lab of some sort, and started presenting us with these different disected species of animals. They gave me a seahorse to examine.
So, before I even started looking further, I asked what they wanted. They explained to me that they were not human, but they wanted to understand the Earth and its creatures better before letting all of humanity know of their presence.
I was oddly calm about that. I noticed that the heart of the seahorse that they wanted me to look at was missing. In fact, ALL of it's organs were missing - except the stomach. I commented on that, and they gave me another specimen.
This time, they had me look at a little mako shark. It was the same - no organs inside except the stomach. I asked them why this was the case, and they explained that they wanted to know how nutrients were absorbed by different animals on Earth.
I explained digestion to them, and they started taking notes. They asked me how much nourishment was available in the oceans vs. on land. I explained that the oceans were larger than all of the land combined on Earth, and were home to plenty of rich marine ecosystems or something.
They looked at me and asked if humans were destroying the oceans. I talked about pollution and human impact and whatnot. Then I said that a lot of people were involved in protecting the oceans as well. Then they asked me how much of a negative impact that humans really had.
At that point, it all started to make sense to me (for some weird reason); the aliens were going to kill all of the humans on Earth and use it for a giant fishery.
I pulled a gun out of my pocket (except it wasn't a gun... it was like a little plastic hanger in the shape of a gun) and started making noises. Every time I said "NEEM!" or "BZCHOOM!" it would shoot this invisible laser or something, and I shot both of the aliens that were in the lab with the lady and I.
I started running with the lady in tow, and we ended up in some huge warehouse. Everyone that was as the convention was dead and layed out on shelves. I freaked out and started running more, eventually making my way outside to some tidepools.
There were people in the water, and they were saying, "human! you defile the water!" and stared shooting at me with the plastic hanger guns. I shot back, and the lady that was with me turned on me, so I shot her too.
For whatever reason, I thought that jumping into the shallows was a good idea, so I kept shooting while I dove in, despite the fact that I was running out of breath from saying "BZCHOOM!" and "NEEM!" so much.
Eventually, I surfaced, and they all started laughing at me. They said that they were just testing how I would react to everything, and that it was all a big joke. They wanted to live peacefully with humans, and usher in a new era of learning and life.
I said "bullshit!" and shot them all. Then I ran out of the water and onto the beach. When I turned around, they were all getting out of the water with really mean looks on their faces.
In unison, they said "bad human - you should not have done that". Then I woke up.
It freaked me out.
Its actually been nice these past few weeks with the attempt to balance out my life a little bit.
First off, I try to only stay the hours that I need to stay at work. I've been told repeatedly about having too much over time and not enough of a life outside of work. Since my work schedule is always changing, I only work for the specified time and then I go home. I can pass off most unfinished tasks at the end of my shift to other qualified people, if need be.
I'm starting to feel and see the results of regular exercise as well. I have more energy, I'm in a better mood again, I don't get as tired with little exertion as I used to, and I'm not sore when I'm done running or swimming anymore.
I've also been able to establish more time with my friends and doing things I enjoy, like RPGs, video games, and card games. In fact, Gio and Bug came over last night for a few hours - our RPG schedule is actually somewhat consistent. It's nice to have more than just two or three sessions and be done with it, you know?