Sunday, May 06, 2007
Saturday, May 05, 2007
Nothing Was Belly-Up
Nick and I went to the store yesterday to buy livestock for the backyard pond. (Or, as they would say on HGTV, the "Water Feature.") We bought two tiny koi, a Fantail Comet, a Calico Comet, and a bunch of tiny "fish seeds."
As of this morning, I have seen the calico, the fantail, and at least one of the koi. It may have been both of the koi but cannot tell them apart yet. There are a bunch of the fish seeds swimming around. It doesn't look as if any of them have bought the (fish) farm over the night.
The water is a bit (bit?) on the cold side, but I think they will make it.
Friday, May 04, 2007
"The Book: More"
To find where we last left our hero, click here.
In looking back, I am kind of awed by how much I could lie to myself. In psychology, there is a disease called Folie a Deux. This means literally “madness shared by two.” Sometimes I feel like I was living a Folie a Deux within my self. Yes, I could go out and buy a gay porn magazine and still think I was straight. I could go out and rent a gay video (we didn’t have DVD’s then) and still convince myself that I was not gay, just curious about what gay porn was like. I could even convince myself that calling gay related 900 numbers was just “research.” That these things became masturbation fodder didn’t even enter into the picture; I was straight so all this gay related sexual activity didn’t make me gay.
Then, of course, there are a young (hiding) gay child/teen’s best friends: the International Male catalogue, GQ, and the underwear section of any ad or catalogue. Under the guise of looking for clothes, I would scour the ads and catalogues for any possible visible penis line or bulge.
Of course there were movies on TV like For Ladies Only where we get to see Gregory Harrison strip; Star Trek with the tight jumpsuits; and American Gigolo (Thank God for HBO!). Actually, Showtime and HBO became a great source to see a penis. There weren’t many of them to be found on movies at that time, but there were a few.
Another source of “penis peeks” was the drive-in. We had a double theater in the town that I grew up in when I was a kid. It usually seemed to happen (by design?) that a not so soft-core movie would show on one of the screens while a more mainstream show would be on the other screen. So, of course, my brother and I would tell my mom that we were seeing the mainstream movie but go to the not so soft-core movie. Often these movies would be badly dubbed Italian moves with much female nudity. What would frustrate me was that the men might get naked, but they would either be: just a shot from the back, there would be a strategically placed towel or blanket, or there would be this annoying black box that would suddenly show up over the guy’s crotch. This would be frustrating, but often enough to make it worth the risk, sometimes there would be a movie that didn’t have the censoring. These were the jackpot of movies! I could pretend that I was watching the women in the movie while getting my fill of the men. I would just have to be careful of any visible evidence that I was enjoying the view. But thankfully, it was dark and my brother was also involved in watching the movie.
As I made my way through high school, the VHS became more and more prevalent. And with the advent of the VHS came the porn movie on tape. My brother would often housesit and I would go with him. Then we would sit there, in the house, drink beers, and watch porn. Of course, I was trying to will myself to be aroused by the naked women I saw on the movie, but it was the men that attracted me. I tried to convince myself that it wasn’t the penis that was of interest to me but the naked woman sucking on the penis. It was the penis going in and out of the vagina, not just the penis. I kept trying to convince myself that it really, truly, was the women that I was finding attractive. But when a scene with just a woman masturbating or a scene where two women were having sex together would come on screen, I would become, well, “less interested.”
It was these fleeting (and not so fleeting) glimpses of penises and the lies I would tell myself that would keep me going through high school, college, and my early work life. But then there was something that was to change my whole world; it was the Internet.
With the Internet, I didn’t need to go out to a newsstand or to a video store. I could just click on a site and all the pornography would come to me. I didn’t have to deal with people’s questioning looks as they rung up my purchase or that extra little huff of breath as they handed me the videotape. I didn’t have to be afraid someone would see me renting a movie or buying a magazine. With the Internet, I could just find the sites I wanted and watch to my hearts content. And if I decided to do a little “research” on how gay porn differed from straight porn, no one would be the wiser.
Some may ask how a clergy person can speak about viewing pornography. I guess I really can’t answer that question. I do know that for the gay child, there is not a whole lot of information or role models out there.
I looked in the book Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex that my mother strategically left in the bottom drawer of her dresser. (I don’t know if she thought we wouldn’t find it or if she put it there so we would find it.) But this didn’t help me except to make me think that men who like men were effeminate and in danger of being killed when they would bring home dates. Television only had Jody from Soap but he really wasn’t too good of a role model. There was Paul Lynde but I didn’t know then that he was gay. (And I guess there are some who would still claim he was straight.) So really the only way I had to get any knowledge about what it meant to be gay were from my gay friends (of whom I really didn’t want to ask too much for fear of being detected) and what porn I could find on the internet.
I don’t know if I would have had the “normal” adolescent experiences if I would not have relied so much on porn. For this gay adolescent, there wasn’t the necking in the back seat of dad’s car. There was not the “feeling up” and being “felt up.” None of these usual experiences that children go through to help them understand what adult sexual relationships were like. There was no guy to allow me to feel him through his pants. There was no guy to neck with in the back seat. And even if there was, I would probably have been in so much denial as to not avail myself of the opportunities. So, in some ways, porn was what helped to form my self-image as a gay man.
If that statement makes you uncomfortable, then we need to look at how we treat our children and what message we are giving to them. Are we giving our children the impression that they were mistakes from birth? The message that I got was that I was not as good as anyone else because of my deep, dark secret. We present all kinds of role models (both positive and negative) of what it means to be heterosexual. We see straight couples walking in the park holding hands. We see straight couples kissing in public. We see a man give his girlfriend or wife a backrub as they rest at the mall. But for the gay children, none of this is seen. There are no gay couples walking hand-in-hand in the park. There are no gay couples cuddling on a cool evening at the football game. So gay children only see what CNN decides is newsworthy (which is generally the most extreme people at the Pride parades) or what can be found in pornography.
Speaking of Pride parades, I would have to attribute television coverage of these events with some of my reticence to come out of the closet. I didn’t want do be one of these people. I also did not want people to think I was one of these people. I didn’t want to call other guys, “Girl” or refer to other guys as “she” or “her.” Part of the image that I got of gays from society in general was that they all gays had to be drag queens and “over the top” kind of people.
DISCLAIMER: To the drag queens, more effeminate, and over the top people out there. I am totally for diversity. I am not saying that you cannot be who you are. I am just saying that that type of persona was not for me and the thought that I would have to change scared me.
But without any appropriate role models, all I had in my experience was the porno people who were having sex in the woods and in the bathrooms and the more flamboyant folks. I did not have any examples of doctors, schoolteachers, neighbors, etc who were gay. As such, my understanding of what it meant to be a gay person was quite limited.
So, yes, as painful as it may be to say, pornography helped me to know what it meant to be a gay person. And with the easy access to porn on the internet, I am sure it will continue to be a tool in many gay children’s lives until we can provide real-life role models.
Yet, with looking at gay porn on the Internet and masturbating to gay porn, I still tried to trick myself into believing that I was actually straight. My favorite excuse is that gay pornography excites me, but I wouldn’t want to have sex with a man. The convoluted thought processes that one goes through to keep a secret from oneself.
After I finished grad school, I went off to the work world. It was also during this time that I met a lesbian couple. This couple had been together for many years and had bought a house together. Wow! My first real role model of a stable homosexual couple. I was invited to their house and saw that they were not some strange exotic animals practicing strange rituals when the curtains were closed. They were just people. They were just two women who happened to love each other.
Yes, I did say that I had gay friends in college, and yes, some of them were older. (read “not in college.”) But these friends were not in committed relationships. There still seemed to be an air of “being alone in a crowd” about them. I really didn’t want to spend my life alone just having casual hook-ups. I really wanted the American dream. If I couldn’t have it by being straight, I didn’t want to be all alone and also be a social outcast. So if I was going to be alone, I would rather suppress my homosexual feeling and at least be a part of society.
So, I finally got to see a homosexual relationship that worked. I saw that this pair had friends, had family, had lives that were just “normal.” This was very enlightening to me. I saw that there were people around who knew they were lesbians and didn’t care. There were STRAIGHT people who knew they were lesbians and didn’t care.
Having them as role models was a great gift to me. During this time, I was actually able to admit to one of the ladies that I thought I might be bisexual. I finally was able to admit to someone that I was attracted to men and I that I enjoyed looking at men. Of course I emphasized that I thought I was more straight than gay, but the gay part was there. And you know, after making that admission, the world didn’t come to an end and my friend didn't laugh or reject me. She just accepted me as I was. And that felt good.
The saga continues.
In looking back, I am kind of awed by how much I could lie to myself. In psychology, there is a disease called Folie a Deux. This means literally “madness shared by two.” Sometimes I feel like I was living a Folie a Deux within my self. Yes, I could go out and buy a gay porn magazine and still think I was straight. I could go out and rent a gay video (we didn’t have DVD’s then) and still convince myself that I was not gay, just curious about what gay porn was like. I could even convince myself that calling gay related 900 numbers was just “research.” That these things became masturbation fodder didn’t even enter into the picture; I was straight so all this gay related sexual activity didn’t make me gay.
Then, of course, there are a young (hiding) gay child/teen’s best friends: the International Male catalogue, GQ, and the underwear section of any ad or catalogue. Under the guise of looking for clothes, I would scour the ads and catalogues for any possible visible penis line or bulge.
Of course there were movies on TV like For Ladies Only where we get to see Gregory Harrison strip; Star Trek with the tight jumpsuits; and American Gigolo (Thank God for HBO!). Actually, Showtime and HBO became a great source to see a penis. There weren’t many of them to be found on movies at that time, but there were a few.
Another source of “penis peeks” was the drive-in. We had a double theater in the town that I grew up in when I was a kid. It usually seemed to happen (by design?) that a not so soft-core movie would show on one of the screens while a more mainstream show would be on the other screen. So, of course, my brother and I would tell my mom that we were seeing the mainstream movie but go to the not so soft-core movie. Often these movies would be badly dubbed Italian moves with much female nudity. What would frustrate me was that the men might get naked, but they would either be: just a shot from the back, there would be a strategically placed towel or blanket, or there would be this annoying black box that would suddenly show up over the guy’s crotch. This would be frustrating, but often enough to make it worth the risk, sometimes there would be a movie that didn’t have the censoring. These were the jackpot of movies! I could pretend that I was watching the women in the movie while getting my fill of the men. I would just have to be careful of any visible evidence that I was enjoying the view. But thankfully, it was dark and my brother was also involved in watching the movie.
As I made my way through high school, the VHS became more and more prevalent. And with the advent of the VHS came the porn movie on tape. My brother would often housesit and I would go with him. Then we would sit there, in the house, drink beers, and watch porn. Of course, I was trying to will myself to be aroused by the naked women I saw on the movie, but it was the men that attracted me. I tried to convince myself that it wasn’t the penis that was of interest to me but the naked woman sucking on the penis. It was the penis going in and out of the vagina, not just the penis. I kept trying to convince myself that it really, truly, was the women that I was finding attractive. But when a scene with just a woman masturbating or a scene where two women were having sex together would come on screen, I would become, well, “less interested.”
It was these fleeting (and not so fleeting) glimpses of penises and the lies I would tell myself that would keep me going through high school, college, and my early work life. But then there was something that was to change my whole world; it was the Internet.
With the Internet, I didn’t need to go out to a newsstand or to a video store. I could just click on a site and all the pornography would come to me. I didn’t have to deal with people’s questioning looks as they rung up my purchase or that extra little huff of breath as they handed me the videotape. I didn’t have to be afraid someone would see me renting a movie or buying a magazine. With the Internet, I could just find the sites I wanted and watch to my hearts content. And if I decided to do a little “research” on how gay porn differed from straight porn, no one would be the wiser.
Some may ask how a clergy person can speak about viewing pornography. I guess I really can’t answer that question. I do know that for the gay child, there is not a whole lot of information or role models out there.
I looked in the book Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex that my mother strategically left in the bottom drawer of her dresser. (I don’t know if she thought we wouldn’t find it or if she put it there so we would find it.) But this didn’t help me except to make me think that men who like men were effeminate and in danger of being killed when they would bring home dates. Television only had Jody from Soap but he really wasn’t too good of a role model. There was Paul Lynde but I didn’t know then that he was gay. (And I guess there are some who would still claim he was straight.) So really the only way I had to get any knowledge about what it meant to be gay were from my gay friends (of whom I really didn’t want to ask too much for fear of being detected) and what porn I could find on the internet.
I don’t know if I would have had the “normal” adolescent experiences if I would not have relied so much on porn. For this gay adolescent, there wasn’t the necking in the back seat of dad’s car. There was not the “feeling up” and being “felt up.” None of these usual experiences that children go through to help them understand what adult sexual relationships were like. There was no guy to allow me to feel him through his pants. There was no guy to neck with in the back seat. And even if there was, I would probably have been in so much denial as to not avail myself of the opportunities. So, in some ways, porn was what helped to form my self-image as a gay man.
If that statement makes you uncomfortable, then we need to look at how we treat our children and what message we are giving to them. Are we giving our children the impression that they were mistakes from birth? The message that I got was that I was not as good as anyone else because of my deep, dark secret. We present all kinds of role models (both positive and negative) of what it means to be heterosexual. We see straight couples walking in the park holding hands. We see straight couples kissing in public. We see a man give his girlfriend or wife a backrub as they rest at the mall. But for the gay children, none of this is seen. There are no gay couples walking hand-in-hand in the park. There are no gay couples cuddling on a cool evening at the football game. So gay children only see what CNN decides is newsworthy (which is generally the most extreme people at the Pride parades) or what can be found in pornography.
Speaking of Pride parades, I would have to attribute television coverage of these events with some of my reticence to come out of the closet. I didn’t want do be one of these people. I also did not want people to think I was one of these people. I didn’t want to call other guys, “Girl” or refer to other guys as “she” or “her.” Part of the image that I got of gays from society in general was that they all gays had to be drag queens and “over the top” kind of people.
DISCLAIMER: To the drag queens, more effeminate, and over the top people out there. I am totally for diversity. I am not saying that you cannot be who you are. I am just saying that that type of persona was not for me and the thought that I would have to change scared me.
But without any appropriate role models, all I had in my experience was the porno people who were having sex in the woods and in the bathrooms and the more flamboyant folks. I did not have any examples of doctors, schoolteachers, neighbors, etc who were gay. As such, my understanding of what it meant to be a gay person was quite limited.
So, yes, as painful as it may be to say, pornography helped me to know what it meant to be a gay person. And with the easy access to porn on the internet, I am sure it will continue to be a tool in many gay children’s lives until we can provide real-life role models.
Yet, with looking at gay porn on the Internet and masturbating to gay porn, I still tried to trick myself into believing that I was actually straight. My favorite excuse is that gay pornography excites me, but I wouldn’t want to have sex with a man. The convoluted thought processes that one goes through to keep a secret from oneself.
After I finished grad school, I went off to the work world. It was also during this time that I met a lesbian couple. This couple had been together for many years and had bought a house together. Wow! My first real role model of a stable homosexual couple. I was invited to their house and saw that they were not some strange exotic animals practicing strange rituals when the curtains were closed. They were just people. They were just two women who happened to love each other.
Yes, I did say that I had gay friends in college, and yes, some of them were older. (read “not in college.”) But these friends were not in committed relationships. There still seemed to be an air of “being alone in a crowd” about them. I really didn’t want to spend my life alone just having casual hook-ups. I really wanted the American dream. If I couldn’t have it by being straight, I didn’t want to be all alone and also be a social outcast. So if I was going to be alone, I would rather suppress my homosexual feeling and at least be a part of society.
So, I finally got to see a homosexual relationship that worked. I saw that this pair had friends, had family, had lives that were just “normal.” This was very enlightening to me. I saw that there were people around who knew they were lesbians and didn’t care. There were STRAIGHT people who knew they were lesbians and didn’t care.
Having them as role models was a great gift to me. During this time, I was actually able to admit to one of the ladies that I thought I might be bisexual. I finally was able to admit to someone that I was attracted to men and I that I enjoyed looking at men. Of course I emphasized that I thought I was more straight than gay, but the gay part was there. And you know, after making that admission, the world didn’t come to an end and my friend didn't laugh or reject me. She just accepted me as I was. And that felt good.
The saga continues.
"The Book: Even More"
Last time on, "The Book"
Well, it took another three years before I was to have sex again. I just would not allow myself to get into a situation where the concept of sex would even arise. I would go out in groups and in many overt and subtle ways let the people I was with know that this was only “Just as friends.”
I did keep the girl from high school around as a girl “friend.” I feel as if I was really not overly honest with her. I did not follow through with the unsaid promises I feel I was making. I feel that I kept promising that some great proclamation of love and devotion would come but I never could truthfully make that proclamation. I kept looking for a future with the two of us together, but I really could never see that future. I wanted to feel the fireworks that I had heard so much about but they never seemed to happen.
I have since wondered what part I filled in her life. That she kept hanging around makes me believe she may have had something else to hide also. I don’t know if she was using me as a beard in the same way I was using her. That really doesn’t matter. What matters is that I feel I was not (and I wasn’t) honest with her. I believed there could be something between us, but I could not feel it.
We finally made a break after I was done with grad school but before I got my first job. We went camping with some friends and spend some very good time together. After we got back from camping, I stayed the night at her house and we had sex. (There is a humorous story about driving 15 miles to buy condoms that could be told here but I will refrain!) Again, the sex was not that great. I did manage to have an orgasm, but only after what seemed like hours of stimulation. This time, though, I could not blame it on being drunk.
Being that close to a person, especially a female person, scared me. I, again, felt that I had made a promise that I was not ready to fulfill. Without going into the details, I found a way to provoke her into telling me that she never wanted to speak to me again. So I was off the hook. I was still heterosexual because SHE broke up with me. I didn’t break up with her.
Now, during these three years between sexual exploits, I was not running around being a “happy hetero,” I was still fighting with the demons inside of my head. I had to purposely look away from attractive men. I had to make certain that I did not look at the bulges in the men’s crotches. I couldn’t just live because I had to actively fight against what I was feeling. I actively shut down. I did not allow myself to feel anything. When I started to feel something, I would back away. I would isolate myself so I would not get hurt and I would not have to deal with the anxiety of the things I was feeling.
I can’t ever remember being told that homosexuality was wrong. I know that there were jokes made during school about gay people and comments made about me being a “guy” (said with a limp-wristed action). But I never really understood what it meant. I knew it was something that attracted public scorn, but far as why it was scorned, I was pretty clueless.
I remember a joke that was being told when I was about five or six. It was a joke about three men trying to get into some club or something. Getting into this club involved a test, and that test was to look at a naked woman and not ring the bell that was placed on the end of each man’s penis. The first two men looked at the woman and immediately there was a “ring” from their penises. These two men went back to the locker room in disgrace. The third man did not “ring” when he saw the woman. There was much rejoicing because he could join. But once he went into the locker room, there was the sound of ringing like a telephone.
Everybody laughed; I didn’t get it.
It was explained that men were not supposed to get hard dicks from looking at other men. I still didn’t understand, but that little tidbit stayed in my subconscious.
All I knew was this: the feelings that I was feeling were not ok and if I talked about them, I would not be ok. So I had to keep quiet, even to myself. The unfortunate side effect of repressing my sexuality is that most of my other feelings got repressed also.
For the longest time, I just assumed that I was never going to feel the love that people talked about. I assumed that love was just something that I was not going to experience. So I started to plan my life around being alone.
I could continue down this train of thought but I would be kind of getting ahead of things.
I really don’t know where I learned that God hated homosexuals. When I was in college and had gay friends I learned about the “clobber passages.” And I guess when I first heard these passages, they made sense to me. They seemed pretty straightforward. Men sleeping with men: that seemed pretty unambiguous. Women having unnatural relationships with each other. Again, pretty unambiguous. But this view of a hateful, vengeful God never quite felt right to me.
Again, I am not sure I want to go down this trail right now.
The next part can be found here.
Well, it took another three years before I was to have sex again. I just would not allow myself to get into a situation where the concept of sex would even arise. I would go out in groups and in many overt and subtle ways let the people I was with know that this was only “Just as friends.”
I did keep the girl from high school around as a girl “friend.” I feel as if I was really not overly honest with her. I did not follow through with the unsaid promises I feel I was making. I feel that I kept promising that some great proclamation of love and devotion would come but I never could truthfully make that proclamation. I kept looking for a future with the two of us together, but I really could never see that future. I wanted to feel the fireworks that I had heard so much about but they never seemed to happen.
I have since wondered what part I filled in her life. That she kept hanging around makes me believe she may have had something else to hide also. I don’t know if she was using me as a beard in the same way I was using her. That really doesn’t matter. What matters is that I feel I was not (and I wasn’t) honest with her. I believed there could be something between us, but I could not feel it.
We finally made a break after I was done with grad school but before I got my first job. We went camping with some friends and spend some very good time together. After we got back from camping, I stayed the night at her house and we had sex. (There is a humorous story about driving 15 miles to buy condoms that could be told here but I will refrain!) Again, the sex was not that great. I did manage to have an orgasm, but only after what seemed like hours of stimulation. This time, though, I could not blame it on being drunk.
Being that close to a person, especially a female person, scared me. I, again, felt that I had made a promise that I was not ready to fulfill. Without going into the details, I found a way to provoke her into telling me that she never wanted to speak to me again. So I was off the hook. I was still heterosexual because SHE broke up with me. I didn’t break up with her.
Now, during these three years between sexual exploits, I was not running around being a “happy hetero,” I was still fighting with the demons inside of my head. I had to purposely look away from attractive men. I had to make certain that I did not look at the bulges in the men’s crotches. I couldn’t just live because I had to actively fight against what I was feeling. I actively shut down. I did not allow myself to feel anything. When I started to feel something, I would back away. I would isolate myself so I would not get hurt and I would not have to deal with the anxiety of the things I was feeling.
I can’t ever remember being told that homosexuality was wrong. I know that there were jokes made during school about gay people and comments made about me being a “guy” (said with a limp-wristed action). But I never really understood what it meant. I knew it was something that attracted public scorn, but far as why it was scorned, I was pretty clueless.
I remember a joke that was being told when I was about five or six. It was a joke about three men trying to get into some club or something. Getting into this club involved a test, and that test was to look at a naked woman and not ring the bell that was placed on the end of each man’s penis. The first two men looked at the woman and immediately there was a “ring” from their penises. These two men went back to the locker room in disgrace. The third man did not “ring” when he saw the woman. There was much rejoicing because he could join. But once he went into the locker room, there was the sound of ringing like a telephone.
Everybody laughed; I didn’t get it.
It was explained that men were not supposed to get hard dicks from looking at other men. I still didn’t understand, but that little tidbit stayed in my subconscious.
All I knew was this: the feelings that I was feeling were not ok and if I talked about them, I would not be ok. So I had to keep quiet, even to myself. The unfortunate side effect of repressing my sexuality is that most of my other feelings got repressed also.
For the longest time, I just assumed that I was never going to feel the love that people talked about. I assumed that love was just something that I was not going to experience. So I started to plan my life around being alone.
I could continue down this train of thought but I would be kind of getting ahead of things.
I really don’t know where I learned that God hated homosexuals. When I was in college and had gay friends I learned about the “clobber passages.” And I guess when I first heard these passages, they made sense to me. They seemed pretty straightforward. Men sleeping with men: that seemed pretty unambiguous. Women having unnatural relationships with each other. Again, pretty unambiguous. But this view of a hateful, vengeful God never quite felt right to me.
Again, I am not sure I want to go down this trail right now.
The next part can be found here.
Thursday, May 03, 2007
Wednesday, May 02, 2007
"The Book: It Continues"
This whole thing started here.
In looking back at college, I can see how I have repressed my feelings. It was easier to think that I was above all of that “rolling around” “acting like animals in heat” than to admit that I wasn’t interested in the women. I would look at my classmates pairing off and could not understand how they could become so close so fast. I actually looked at it as a sign of maturity. I was not going to go to college and immediately jump into bed with some woman. I was going to wait for that right girl. I was going to get to know the woman before we went to bed because that was the good and noble thing to do.
Now, I keep talking about how I justified my behaviors through high school and college. What you need to remember is that a lot of my current understanding of my behavior can be attributed to time, distance, and mental clarity. The excuses, such as “I am waiting for a woman with a great sense of humor,” I truly believed. On a subconscious level I knew I was avoiding women, but on my day-to-day living level, I was totally confused as to why I couldn’t find a girlfriend.
Well, to say that I didn’t have a girlfriend would not be right. I had girl “friends.” I got along well with girls and I felt less stress around them. So I would hang out with girls. There were some that you could even say we “dated.” I so wanted these relationships to work. I so wanted to be like the other guys in school. But I never really seemed to get it. Kissing was unpleasurable and I couldn’t even begin to comprehend what was so great about necking.
I had a girlfriend in high school and one that carried over from high school through college. But for the most part, that is all we were was friends. We went to movies together, we did things together, but we didn’t “do” things together. So, I guess even in high school I had a “beard.” I know now that I had chosen girls that were distant so that I would not have to face the reality of who I was.
College continued. The swimmer got a girlfriend, which put me into a bit of a tailspin. I was bitter that he had someone and I was alone. I was upset because I had been replaced in his life. But, college has its demands and I proceeded to go on with life.
I would often pray that God would find a girlfriend for me. I just had to believe that there was someone out there for me. I saw it as a test of faith. I had to keep the faith and God would provide a girlfriend/wife for me. Unfortunately, a woman was not provided but this train of thought led me down a path of depression and despair. I was praying but God was not answering. Was it because I was so bad? Was my faith not enough? Why was there not a girlfriend for me?
This is one of the greatest pains of being gay. Even God abandons you. I was never told this directly, but it was present in the world around me. I heard the story of Sodom and the interpretation that it was God’s punishment of the gay people. I had also heard that AIDS was God’s punishment of gay people. So, if I avoided being gay, I would not fall to this scourge of God. I may be alone, but I would be alive.
It was in college that I really worked to suppress my feelings. Getting an erection in the shower of the dorm was not a good thing. Being attracted to one’s friends was not looked upon very well. I avoided doing athletic things with friends because I did not want to have to shower with them for fear of becoming aroused. I repressed the desire to see my friends naked and avoided any opportunity.
I did have gay friends in college. I may have been living through them vicariously during my college days. It was through my friends that I learned about what it was really like to be gay. I was able to see people in relationships and people just going about their lives. These guys were not the traditional effeminate gay stereotype. These were just common people.
Gays were starting to stand up on campus and they were experiencing the expected backlash. I stood beside my friends but also made it clear that “I was not one of them.” I remember working telling myself that I was not gay, there was no way I was gay. I didn’t want to be part of the troubles that I was seeing. I could stand beside “them” but I was not ready to be one of “them.”
I finally lost my virginity just before my college graduation. I was totally drunk and the girl practically threw herself at me. It is funny the things you remember about events like this: I was wearing light blue briefs with white edging. I also remember that I didn’t have an orgasm on this first time. I don’t know if it was because of the amount of alcohol in my system or because I was having sex with a woman. It was fun, but it still felt “anticlimactic.”
Still, I hung onto this experience. This proved I was not gay! I had sex with a woman! Gay guys don’t have sex with women. So it wasn’t that good, but I knew it would get better. It is common knowledge that the first time is not that great. I had been masturbating for a long time and so actually having sex would feel different, or so I told myself. But I have now had sex! Now I would just have to do it again because I know it will get better.
More of The Book
In looking back at college, I can see how I have repressed my feelings. It was easier to think that I was above all of that “rolling around” “acting like animals in heat” than to admit that I wasn’t interested in the women. I would look at my classmates pairing off and could not understand how they could become so close so fast. I actually looked at it as a sign of maturity. I was not going to go to college and immediately jump into bed with some woman. I was going to wait for that right girl. I was going to get to know the woman before we went to bed because that was the good and noble thing to do.
Now, I keep talking about how I justified my behaviors through high school and college. What you need to remember is that a lot of my current understanding of my behavior can be attributed to time, distance, and mental clarity. The excuses, such as “I am waiting for a woman with a great sense of humor,” I truly believed. On a subconscious level I knew I was avoiding women, but on my day-to-day living level, I was totally confused as to why I couldn’t find a girlfriend.
Well, to say that I didn’t have a girlfriend would not be right. I had girl “friends.” I got along well with girls and I felt less stress around them. So I would hang out with girls. There were some that you could even say we “dated.” I so wanted these relationships to work. I so wanted to be like the other guys in school. But I never really seemed to get it. Kissing was unpleasurable and I couldn’t even begin to comprehend what was so great about necking.
I had a girlfriend in high school and one that carried over from high school through college. But for the most part, that is all we were was friends. We went to movies together, we did things together, but we didn’t “do” things together. So, I guess even in high school I had a “beard.” I know now that I had chosen girls that were distant so that I would not have to face the reality of who I was.
College continued. The swimmer got a girlfriend, which put me into a bit of a tailspin. I was bitter that he had someone and I was alone. I was upset because I had been replaced in his life. But, college has its demands and I proceeded to go on with life.
I would often pray that God would find a girlfriend for me. I just had to believe that there was someone out there for me. I saw it as a test of faith. I had to keep the faith and God would provide a girlfriend/wife for me. Unfortunately, a woman was not provided but this train of thought led me down a path of depression and despair. I was praying but God was not answering. Was it because I was so bad? Was my faith not enough? Why was there not a girlfriend for me?
This is one of the greatest pains of being gay. Even God abandons you. I was never told this directly, but it was present in the world around me. I heard the story of Sodom and the interpretation that it was God’s punishment of the gay people. I had also heard that AIDS was God’s punishment of gay people. So, if I avoided being gay, I would not fall to this scourge of God. I may be alone, but I would be alive.
It was in college that I really worked to suppress my feelings. Getting an erection in the shower of the dorm was not a good thing. Being attracted to one’s friends was not looked upon very well. I avoided doing athletic things with friends because I did not want to have to shower with them for fear of becoming aroused. I repressed the desire to see my friends naked and avoided any opportunity.
I did have gay friends in college. I may have been living through them vicariously during my college days. It was through my friends that I learned about what it was really like to be gay. I was able to see people in relationships and people just going about their lives. These guys were not the traditional effeminate gay stereotype. These were just common people.
Gays were starting to stand up on campus and they were experiencing the expected backlash. I stood beside my friends but also made it clear that “I was not one of them.” I remember working telling myself that I was not gay, there was no way I was gay. I didn’t want to be part of the troubles that I was seeing. I could stand beside “them” but I was not ready to be one of “them.”
I finally lost my virginity just before my college graduation. I was totally drunk and the girl practically threw herself at me. It is funny the things you remember about events like this: I was wearing light blue briefs with white edging. I also remember that I didn’t have an orgasm on this first time. I don’t know if it was because of the amount of alcohol in my system or because I was having sex with a woman. It was fun, but it still felt “anticlimactic.”
Still, I hung onto this experience. This proved I was not gay! I had sex with a woman! Gay guys don’t have sex with women. So it wasn’t that good, but I knew it would get better. It is common knowledge that the first time is not that great. I had been masturbating for a long time and so actually having sex would feel different, or so I told myself. But I have now had sex! Now I would just have to do it again because I know it will get better.
More of The Book
"The Book: The Beginning"
Why would I think that I have something new to add to the whole discussion of homosexuality? I mean, what hasn’t been said already? What could I tell that would help someone or some family? I have read the comment that Coming-Out stories are so common as to not even raise an eyebrow anymore. But living in the midst of this whole Coming-Out thing, I guess I do feel that there is something to share.
I know that I deal with things now that I never had to deal with before. Some may say that I am being paranoid; maybe so. But these are things that would have never entered my mind a mere year ago. My reality is different in a way that I would have never expected. And if I can help people to understand just a little part of this change, then I feel like I would have been of some success.
I was trying to think of a day or event that I could point to and say, “It all started here.” But there really isn’t any. Just throughout my whole life, I never felt like I belonged. Throughout my life, I never felt that really fit in. I just seemed “different” than most other people. It always felt as if I would do something but that “something” was never right.
I always seemed to have trouble being a boy. I didn’t like sports, either to play them or to watch them. I didn’t like the usual boy things. I preferred to do other things. I enjoyed exploring and thinking. Now don’t get me wrong, I never wanted to be a girl, I just thought I was “wrong“ as a boy. I know the fundamentalist Christians out there would have a field day with this. They would want to point to my parents and say that the reason I was gay would be my parents’ fault. The fundamentalists would say that my mother was overbearing and my father was distant. And, you know, they would be right. But what this doesn’t explain is why I am gay and the rest of my immediate family is not. If my parents made me gay, why didn’t it “take” with the rest of my siblings? But as far as I can remember, I have always been this way. So, trying to find a “starting point” is a bit daunting.
However, if I look back at my life and try to find the first “homosexual” inkling, it would probably have to be back when I was about five or six. I remember getting out of the pool with my brother, my uncle, and my cousin. My cousin would have to have been in his early teens by this time. I remember changing from swim trunks to regular clothes. I remember my cousin wearing a swim supporter. I didn’t know what this was or why he would wear one. I did figure it had something to do with his “pee-pee,” though because that was the part that it covered.
I also remember the bulges in the front of the jumpsuits of the men in the original Star Trek series. These bulges intrigued my even though I didn’t know why. When these bulges would appear on TV, I would have to look.
I know people would want me to believe that if my father played football with me or if I was made to sit down and watch Monday Night Football, I would not be writing this to you now. But that is just way too easy. My brother likes football. My brother played football. I just never found it anything worth getting excited about.
But, I am sure you can find, out there, gay men who enjoy football and played football. I am sure you can find gay men who had fathers who were properly attentive and mothers who were properly unattached. I guess what I am trying to say is that, yes, my family had a large impact on who I am as a person, but , no, they did not make me gay.
I guess that I even need to go through all of this stuff shows that we still need people to tell their stories.
Is my experience extra-special? I don’t know, it is all I have. But these are the experiences that I can share in the hopes that someone might find them enlightening and helpful.
So when did I “know” I was gay?
In all honesty, I would have to say that I knew back in high school. I tried not to acknowledge it, but it was there. I saw my first Playgirl at my “girlfriends” house and found myself getting aroused by the pictures of the naked men. My brother had some porn pictures in his underwear drawer (My brother was always so original) and I always found myself returning to the picture of the man and the woman having sex. I found myself not getting turned on by the naked woman, but the naked man…
Naked women never really did anything for me. I would try to make myself believe that I found women attractive and that they got me sexually aroused, but the truth is, they didn’t. Actually, when I would masturbate, I would think about men and then quickly change to women as I neared climax just to “prove” that I could climax to women and therefore I was not gay. But still, it was the men that attracted me.
During high school I also had my first crush. He was kind and smart and also a swimmer and a weight lifter. And, oh yeah, he also had a beautiful body. Just to be in his presence made me feel special. Just to have him talk to me made me feel wanted. At the time I would not have considered what I was feeling a crush, but it was. What I thought is that I have a really great, talented, friend. And, yes, I really, really, thought he was cute: Muscular in a swimmer sort of way.
What I find amazing is how we can lie to ourselves. I guess Freud would say that we could justify just about anything. If I were to look at my behavior, I would have seen my attraction written all over it. Once, while the swimmer and I were in high school, he was over at my parents’ house and we were watching movies. The swimmer was falling asleep so I just turned off the TV, pulled up a blanket, and fell asleep next to him. I knew what I was doing would not be considered “normal” but of course, I would not let myself believe I was gay.
I ended up going to the same college the swimmer did. “Ended up!” Who am I trying to kid? I would have gone anywhere the swimmer went. Luckily, the swimmer went to a good school. I came up with a reason to apply to the school and got accepted. So off to college I went.
The story continues here.
I know that I deal with things now that I never had to deal with before. Some may say that I am being paranoid; maybe so. But these are things that would have never entered my mind a mere year ago. My reality is different in a way that I would have never expected. And if I can help people to understand just a little part of this change, then I feel like I would have been of some success.
I was trying to think of a day or event that I could point to and say, “It all started here.” But there really isn’t any. Just throughout my whole life, I never felt like I belonged. Throughout my life, I never felt that really fit in. I just seemed “different” than most other people. It always felt as if I would do something but that “something” was never right.
I always seemed to have trouble being a boy. I didn’t like sports, either to play them or to watch them. I didn’t like the usual boy things. I preferred to do other things. I enjoyed exploring and thinking. Now don’t get me wrong, I never wanted to be a girl, I just thought I was “wrong“ as a boy. I know the fundamentalist Christians out there would have a field day with this. They would want to point to my parents and say that the reason I was gay would be my parents’ fault. The fundamentalists would say that my mother was overbearing and my father was distant. And, you know, they would be right. But what this doesn’t explain is why I am gay and the rest of my immediate family is not. If my parents made me gay, why didn’t it “take” with the rest of my siblings? But as far as I can remember, I have always been this way. So, trying to find a “starting point” is a bit daunting.
However, if I look back at my life and try to find the first “homosexual” inkling, it would probably have to be back when I was about five or six. I remember getting out of the pool with my brother, my uncle, and my cousin. My cousin would have to have been in his early teens by this time. I remember changing from swim trunks to regular clothes. I remember my cousin wearing a swim supporter. I didn’t know what this was or why he would wear one. I did figure it had something to do with his “pee-pee,” though because that was the part that it covered.
I also remember the bulges in the front of the jumpsuits of the men in the original Star Trek series. These bulges intrigued my even though I didn’t know why. When these bulges would appear on TV, I would have to look.
I know people would want me to believe that if my father played football with me or if I was made to sit down and watch Monday Night Football, I would not be writing this to you now. But that is just way too easy. My brother likes football. My brother played football. I just never found it anything worth getting excited about.
But, I am sure you can find, out there, gay men who enjoy football and played football. I am sure you can find gay men who had fathers who were properly attentive and mothers who were properly unattached. I guess what I am trying to say is that, yes, my family had a large impact on who I am as a person, but , no, they did not make me gay.
I guess that I even need to go through all of this stuff shows that we still need people to tell their stories.
Is my experience extra-special? I don’t know, it is all I have. But these are the experiences that I can share in the hopes that someone might find them enlightening and helpful.
So when did I “know” I was gay?
In all honesty, I would have to say that I knew back in high school. I tried not to acknowledge it, but it was there. I saw my first Playgirl at my “girlfriends” house and found myself getting aroused by the pictures of the naked men. My brother had some porn pictures in his underwear drawer (My brother was always so original) and I always found myself returning to the picture of the man and the woman having sex. I found myself not getting turned on by the naked woman, but the naked man…
Naked women never really did anything for me. I would try to make myself believe that I found women attractive and that they got me sexually aroused, but the truth is, they didn’t. Actually, when I would masturbate, I would think about men and then quickly change to women as I neared climax just to “prove” that I could climax to women and therefore I was not gay. But still, it was the men that attracted me.
During high school I also had my first crush. He was kind and smart and also a swimmer and a weight lifter. And, oh yeah, he also had a beautiful body. Just to be in his presence made me feel special. Just to have him talk to me made me feel wanted. At the time I would not have considered what I was feeling a crush, but it was. What I thought is that I have a really great, talented, friend. And, yes, I really, really, thought he was cute: Muscular in a swimmer sort of way.
What I find amazing is how we can lie to ourselves. I guess Freud would say that we could justify just about anything. If I were to look at my behavior, I would have seen my attraction written all over it. Once, while the swimmer and I were in high school, he was over at my parents’ house and we were watching movies. The swimmer was falling asleep so I just turned off the TV, pulled up a blanket, and fell asleep next to him. I knew what I was doing would not be considered “normal” but of course, I would not let myself believe I was gay.
I ended up going to the same college the swimmer did. “Ended up!” Who am I trying to kid? I would have gone anywhere the swimmer went. Luckily, the swimmer went to a good school. I came up with a reason to apply to the school and got accepted. So off to college I went.
The story continues here.
FYI
Some folks have told me that my story would make a good book. I am honored to think that people would like to read my story. So, not quite knowing how to go about doing this, I will probably preview things here in the blog. If some of this stuff sounds familiar, I apologize. I will put something in the tag section so you can skip it if you want.
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
Happy Anniversary!
Four years ago today, George Bush told us we had won in Iraq. Just another thing we can believe him about.
Monday, April 30, 2007
Now a Whine From Our Sponsor
Somewhere in my life someone told me somethings that I have believed. And although I have begun to see that these things are wrong, I still want to believe them. I really don’t want to have these images shattered. This two lies are simple: People are innately good; and Hard work and honesty will pay off. And even though I have time and again seen this disproved by life, I still have trouble casting it away.
Again, today, I have seen these principles tossed aside. I had been told last week that I would get a call about working today (Monday). I was also told that although it could not be guarenteed, working was probable and I should wait for a call from Kelly Services. I had not heard anything so I went to the place I worked and checked the assignment board. I was listed on the board under the title “Temp.” So, I was caught in a quandary: did I not go to work because I was not called and then find I was supposed to work? Or, did I go to work only to find I was not supposed to be there? I opted to go to work as this would be the proper thing to do if I was being paid and the employer was counting on me.
As you can probably guess, I got to work and was told, by one of the bosses, “I don’t need you.” I said that I was on the board. He said that I should go to the other part of the building because he did not need me. (I had already started to unpacking pop machines by this point. I believe if you are going to be at work, you should be working.) So I sat and waited for the other boss to arrive. When she got there, she told me that they didn’t need me but that I should wait around to see if anyone doesn’t show up. As you can probably guess, everybody showed up. So I got to go home, at 6:45 am.
Now what honked me off is two of the people who did get to work were two people who just stood around for an hour last Tuesday. Instead of trying to find something to do, they just stood outside and smoked. To me, that smacks of theft: if you are paid to work, you don’t just stand around and smoke for an hour. So, the two who took the place for a ride keep their job, and I, who looked for things to do if I was on the clock, end up going home.
Later, around 9 am, I get a phone call from Kelly services telling me that I shouldn’t go into work today as my position has been ended. Of course, I had already been to work and have returned by this time.
I called back to verify that I have received the call and to say that being called at 9 am for a job where I usually went in at 6 am was “inconvenient” to say the least. I also wondered if since I did go in if I was not entitled to some pay. They said they would get back to me.
And about people being nice…
Companies that won’t hire people but will get temps. Companies that put temps with full time employees even when to do so means that both the temp and them employee is in danger of injury. Companies that will rely on temps but will not extend any security to the temp. Governments that will give cars to judges but expect working folks to drive their own cars and use our tax dollars to pay for the judges cars. Bosses who walk in and say, “We don’t need you.” Why is it so hard to be nice?
It probably has become repetitive, but I am so sick of this whole thing. I am sick of having 10 years of college and am working sweeping floors. It is not that I am too good to sweep floors, it just seems a waste of an education. We also get told how badly the church needs clergy and here I sit, waiting for a call.
Oh, yes, I would like some cheese with this whine.
Again, today, I have seen these principles tossed aside. I had been told last week that I would get a call about working today (Monday). I was also told that although it could not be guarenteed, working was probable and I should wait for a call from Kelly Services. I had not heard anything so I went to the place I worked and checked the assignment board. I was listed on the board under the title “Temp.” So, I was caught in a quandary: did I not go to work because I was not called and then find I was supposed to work? Or, did I go to work only to find I was not supposed to be there? I opted to go to work as this would be the proper thing to do if I was being paid and the employer was counting on me.
As you can probably guess, I got to work and was told, by one of the bosses, “I don’t need you.” I said that I was on the board. He said that I should go to the other part of the building because he did not need me. (I had already started to unpacking pop machines by this point. I believe if you are going to be at work, you should be working.) So I sat and waited for the other boss to arrive. When she got there, she told me that they didn’t need me but that I should wait around to see if anyone doesn’t show up. As you can probably guess, everybody showed up. So I got to go home, at 6:45 am.
Now what honked me off is two of the people who did get to work were two people who just stood around for an hour last Tuesday. Instead of trying to find something to do, they just stood outside and smoked. To me, that smacks of theft: if you are paid to work, you don’t just stand around and smoke for an hour. So, the two who took the place for a ride keep their job, and I, who looked for things to do if I was on the clock, end up going home.
Later, around 9 am, I get a phone call from Kelly services telling me that I shouldn’t go into work today as my position has been ended. Of course, I had already been to work and have returned by this time.
I called back to verify that I have received the call and to say that being called at 9 am for a job where I usually went in at 6 am was “inconvenient” to say the least. I also wondered if since I did go in if I was not entitled to some pay. They said they would get back to me.
And about people being nice…
Companies that won’t hire people but will get temps. Companies that put temps with full time employees even when to do so means that both the temp and them employee is in danger of injury. Companies that will rely on temps but will not extend any security to the temp. Governments that will give cars to judges but expect working folks to drive their own cars and use our tax dollars to pay for the judges cars. Bosses who walk in and say, “We don’t need you.” Why is it so hard to be nice?
It probably has become repetitive, but I am so sick of this whole thing. I am sick of having 10 years of college and am working sweeping floors. It is not that I am too good to sweep floors, it just seems a waste of an education. We also get told how badly the church needs clergy and here I sit, waiting for a call.
Oh, yes, I would like some cheese with this whine.
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Been a While
Sorry I havne't written in a while. (Well, a week.) Work is getting to me. I have been working 10 hour days and one day last week it was more like a 15 hour day. When I come home, I am whipped!
Poor Nick. I just want to come home and go to sleep. Needless to say, this do not do much in the line of romance. Actually, they wanted to change my hours which meant that we would only "see" each other between midnight and 7 am. Totally unacceptable.
I have not heard from any of the churches yet. I hope to soon. I have also found an opening for a chruch that is Episcopal, Lutheran, and Presbyterian. Hey! I cover two-thirds of those denominations! Maybe this will be a good fit.
Otherwise, I have been having a pity-party. I get into the "I have gone to 10 years of college to be moping floors!?" trap. I feel so whiney but I can't seem to shake it.
Oh, well, tomorrow is again back to the warehouse and the sodas.
Hope your life is going well! Peace to you all!
Poor Nick. I just want to come home and go to sleep. Needless to say, this do not do much in the line of romance. Actually, they wanted to change my hours which meant that we would only "see" each other between midnight and 7 am. Totally unacceptable.
I have not heard from any of the churches yet. I hope to soon. I have also found an opening for a chruch that is Episcopal, Lutheran, and Presbyterian. Hey! I cover two-thirds of those denominations! Maybe this will be a good fit.
Otherwise, I have been having a pity-party. I get into the "I have gone to 10 years of college to be moping floors!?" trap. I feel so whiney but I can't seem to shake it.
Oh, well, tomorrow is again back to the warehouse and the sodas.
Hope your life is going well! Peace to you all!
Sunday, April 22, 2007
Saturday, April 14, 2007
Friday, April 13, 2007
Everyone Else Has Had More Sex Than Me
I had this on my blog before but the link does not work so here it is again.
Puttin' out Pop Machines
I have never thought about pop machines before. They were just something that was there. Sometimes they were intrusive, but mostly they were conviences that were there when I needed them and annoying when they weren't there when I wanted one.
Well, I have been spending the last three days in "pop machine land." I have been preping pop machines and pop coolers and have been delivering, removing, and moving pop machines.
First off: Pop machines are heavy! (Ah Duh, you say!) But do we really consider how heavy they are? They are refridgerators with advertisments and added mechanics. And moving these things up and down stairs is a real trip. They actually have this thing that will climb steps automatically. Kind of cool!
Then there are the coolers: Refridgerators with glass doors. And you CAN'T BREAK THE DOOR! So you have to move it with care even when you have a whole 2 inches to negotiate. But the customer is a big account so we must keep the customer happy! (Actually, I am not complaining. I actually enjoyed the job.)
And I learned the graphics didn't just appear on the machines. Think GIANT sticker. (29 inches x 6 feet) Now, put this thing on straight and without air bubbles. There are all kinds of tricks but if I told you, I would have to kill you.
Then comes the travel to put the things out. Yesterday, we left at 6:30 am and got back at 9:00 pm. When two hours are spent just getting there, they want you to do as much as possible.
Actually, not a bad job. I am enjoying it. It is a part of the world I have never thought of.
Well, I have been spending the last three days in "pop machine land." I have been preping pop machines and pop coolers and have been delivering, removing, and moving pop machines.
First off: Pop machines are heavy! (Ah Duh, you say!) But do we really consider how heavy they are? They are refridgerators with advertisments and added mechanics. And moving these things up and down stairs is a real trip. They actually have this thing that will climb steps automatically. Kind of cool!
Then there are the coolers: Refridgerators with glass doors. And you CAN'T BREAK THE DOOR! So you have to move it with care even when you have a whole 2 inches to negotiate. But the customer is a big account so we must keep the customer happy! (Actually, I am not complaining. I actually enjoyed the job.)
And I learned the graphics didn't just appear on the machines. Think GIANT sticker. (29 inches x 6 feet) Now, put this thing on straight and without air bubbles. There are all kinds of tricks but if I told you, I would have to kill you.
Then comes the travel to put the things out. Yesterday, we left at 6:30 am and got back at 9:00 pm. When two hours are spent just getting there, they want you to do as much as possible.
Actually, not a bad job. I am enjoying it. It is a part of the world I have never thought of.
Monday, April 09, 2007
Those Nagging Anniversaries
It was interesting yesterday morning: Here is was Easter and I was not responsible for making sure the Easter Breakfast was going to happen. This breakfast was part of the "other duties as assigned" that are part of a job but are not anything they tell you about when you take the job. This breakfast consisted of getting people to donate pans to use, donate food and to help set up, cook, and take down. As you my know, I am a TOTALLY organized person. (Yep, and how 'bout some swampland in Florida.)
Now I also had two LOVELY assistants who always found it better to complain than to help. They would sit back and watch, not offer any help, and then complain when things did not go as they had wanted. But do you think they would help me? In my opinion, that is the definition of crazy-making.
Letter to my LOVELY assistants:
Dear Sybil and Veruca,
How was Easter Breakfast this year?
Did it go well? That is good. I am glad.
You are probably thinking that it went so well bause Pr. Ben wasn't there
to screw it up. But let's think about it. It went well this year
because you had control and could do things the way you wanted. So, it
must have looked like it was all my fault.
But, you know, I would think that something else happened. This year
you didn't sit back and wait for me to fail. This year you got in there
and helped. So things went well. You also know, if you had helped
for the past three years, things could have gone much better. Instead of
waiting for me to fail and then saying, "See, he is lazy and inept", you could
have helped me and things would have been better all around.
Unfortunately, you will not see this. All you will see is how much
"better" things are now that I am gone. And you will feel all
self-righteous that now that I am gone things can be back to where they
were. Well, I hope you enjoy the feeling. But hopefully you can feel
the twinge that maybe if you would have helped, things could have been better
all the way around.
Your former "lazy" pastor,
Ben
Well, the child in me would love to send that. But again, they probably wouldn't understand. The child in me wants to hurt them as much as I allowed myself to be hurt by them. I would hope that in the future, I would have the nads to tell them that they can either be part of the solution or to just get out of the way.
Oh, well, live, learn, and grow.
Sunday, April 08, 2007
Happy Easter!
May the Joy and Beauty of this season be with you and yours not only today, but the whole year through.
Oh, just wait, this is Easter! You mean the tracks in the snow were bunny tracks and not reindeer tracks!?
Happy Easter to you all!
Saturday, April 07, 2007
Trip to Saugatuck
Nick didn't have to work yesterday so he was wonderful and suggested we get away for mini-vacation. So we decided to go to Saugatuck for a couple of days. We have both been under a fair amount of stress lately and he thought it would be good to get away.
So we packed up and got someone to let the dog out. Then we headed on our way. Now last weekend was beautiful. Even Monday was great. But this weekend... Well, we left with snow flurries in the air and a fairly stiff breeze. I did manage to get gas at $2.54 a gallon, just before it went up to $2.86/gallon.
We went first to South Haven and did some shopping. One to the thing we saw in a store was just hilarious was a knife holder called "The Ex."
We had wished we knew someone who had gotten a divorce just so we could give it to them.
We then went and checked into our hotel and went shopping. It was nice to be in a place where there are more "'mos" per square mile than a Three Stooges convention. Many of the shops were owned by "family members."
We had a late lunch and the place had cream of crab soup. They only make it on the first Friday each month and we were lucky enough to be there on the right day! It was great stuff. We sat and ate and watched it snow.
Later we braved near blizzard conditions to go out to one of the local gay resorts. The place is called The Dunes. We thought the bar at "The Midwest's Largest Gay Resort" should have been a pretty happening time. Well... It was snowing and the Friday before Easter. But there was an underwear and speedo show on the big screen televisions. And besides, I was with Nick. (Sorry for the mushy part.)
I could barely see the road on the way home and it was not from the the beers. The snow was falling and blowing. Now remember, this was SUPPOSED to be a spring get-away.
When we awoke we were greeted with this:
It snowed all night.
Nick was feeling bad because he wanted it to be wonderful. But it was wonderful. It was fun in the fact that it was nothing we would have predicted. And besides, I got to spend some time with Nick which I haven't been able to over the past week.
So we packed up and got someone to let the dog out. Then we headed on our way. Now last weekend was beautiful. Even Monday was great. But this weekend... Well, we left with snow flurries in the air and a fairly stiff breeze. I did manage to get gas at $2.54 a gallon, just before it went up to $2.86/gallon.
We went first to South Haven and did some shopping. One to the thing we saw in a store was just hilarious was a knife holder called "The Ex."
We had wished we knew someone who had gotten a divorce just so we could give it to them.We then went and checked into our hotel and went shopping. It was nice to be in a place where there are more "'mos" per square mile than a Three Stooges convention. Many of the shops were owned by "family members."
We had a late lunch and the place had cream of crab soup. They only make it on the first Friday each month and we were lucky enough to be there on the right day! It was great stuff. We sat and ate and watched it snow.
Later we braved near blizzard conditions to go out to one of the local gay resorts. The place is called The Dunes. We thought the bar at "The Midwest's Largest Gay Resort" should have been a pretty happening time. Well... It was snowing and the Friday before Easter. But there was an underwear and speedo show on the big screen televisions. And besides, I was with Nick. (Sorry for the mushy part.)
I could barely see the road on the way home and it was not from the the beers. The snow was falling and blowing. Now remember, this was SUPPOSED to be a spring get-away.
When we awoke we were greeted with this:
It snowed all night.Nick was feeling bad because he wanted it to be wonderful. But it was wonderful. It was fun in the fact that it was nothing we would have predicted. And besides, I got to spend some time with Nick which I haven't been able to over the past week.
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
Grrrr...
I was just talking to one of my former coworkers and we got talking about why I was let go while other employees were kept. I guess people were talking and the only thing that they can come up with is that I was gay. I was a better worker. I didn't take as much time off. I was always on time. The only thing would have to be that I was gay. I am kind of worried for Nick.
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