Yeah, I know it’s been awhile… a long while. Just over a year now, in fact. It’s not that I didn’t have anything to write about… quite the opposite, actually. In some ways, I almost had too much to write about, and couldn’t get the thoughts organized. Basically, in the end, it came down to “Life got in the way”.
It’s not the first time I’ve taken a hiatus. It happens during correspondences with friends (e-mail or when I used to write actual letters), journal writing, hobbies, cooking, or most any other good habit I tried to set over the years. It doesn’t mean I don’t care about the people, or appreciate the activities… immediate issues became a distraction, and next thing you know: days, weeks, and maybe months go by.
When I turned 14, in 1989, I started a journal. (It wasn’t a “diary”… that’s for girls. Guys write “journals”… such was my reasoning concerning certain synonyms) I began it on my birthday, as a matter of fact... a small blue book. That day I had also watched Batman (the Tim Burton one) in the theater, and had considered it, literally, to be the greatest movie ever made. Much of that first entry was gushing about how I think it should win all kinds of Academy Awards, and how great it was, etc… it was typical kid-geeking-out, I admit, and nothing as truly deep and thought-provoking as I once thought it was. But it had started, what I hope, was going to be a nice habit or tradition.
Side note: It also began a tradition of seeing the current Batman movie in the theater, ON my birthday. The first time I moved away from that, was with Batman & Robin… and I used to think that was why it sucked. (I did a bit of unnecessary apologizing for it.) But in reality… it was Joel Schumacher. I re-started the tradition with Batman Begins, and it returned to greatness. Unfortunately, The Dark Knight, the best one yet, didn’t even open until after my birthday… so the tradition is fully broken. But I don’t mind so much, cause it was that good. (Okay, so maybe some things concerning geeking-out don’t change as much as we hope).
I didn’t resolve to write in that journal every day or week… I never did set down an idea of a schedule to try and keep to. Sometimes I’d write into it a few days in a row… other times, it’d go a few months without. I wrote when I felt like I had something to say or get off my chest. So, there ended up being a lot of pauses in the writing… a number of hiatuses.
But throughout High School, and then into college (where the writing became even more sporadic)… I did eventually fill up that little blue book, and then started a second volume in a little red book. That one… eventually got filled too. Then I started a third one, a multi-colored one... which never got filled. To this day, there’s still a lot of blank pages in the latter half of it. In fact, the very last entry to it was written on my very first night in California… when I flew out there by myself to try and find an apartment to live in, before I made the drive with all my stuff just before Graduate School started.
I don’t even have to look in that book to remember what I felt that night. I was scared out of my gourd. I was in my early 20s… had never travelled alone before. And while I had been involved with a road trip to Athens, Georgia… and a weekend train-trip to Washington D.C., those had both been with friends… But I had never been in a different TIME ZONE so far away from everything and everyone that I ever knew… and completely on my own. To attend a school I hadn’t even seen in person (and the stress of not having an apartment and actually feeling “homeless”). Even though it was because I felt I *had* to get out of where I had been… I was wondering, and even wrote this down in that little red journal, if I had just made the biggest mistake of my life. I felt so intimidated; I could barely sleep in that room on the second floor of the Motel 6. (Which was another first for me… renting a hotel room by myself.) That was the very last entry I ever wrote… and that was just over 10 years ago.
While the story of my Grad School experience (especially the beginning) could be a post on its own (maybe some day)… I am happy to say that it WASN’T the biggest mistake of my life… in fact, it was probably one of the best things I’ve ever done, overall. While the cliff-hanger nature of that journal entry doesn’t sound so promising… I ended up learning a lot about myself… made some really good friends early on, learned a lot about my chosen field, had a great time, and I think became a better, more self-reliant person because of it. (Well, I sort of HAD to on that one.)
I’ve thought about going back to that little multi-colored journal and picking it up again on the next blank page… but I really think that too much time has passed. Because when I come off a hiatus, I feel the need to ‘recap’ what happened during that pause in writing. And… well, too much has happened. There’s no way to be able to condense it down to even fit IN the rest of that book, just to be able to get to whatever was bothering me currently. Nah, besides… I think it’s more interesting to leave it as a cliff-hanger for whatever unknown, unseen future reader that might happen to see it. Whether that’s a descendant, a lover, or some stranger picking it up at a Garage Sale.
Besides, I’ve got the blog for all soul-bearing. Plus, I think I’m a little more articulate then I was when I started at 14 (well… except maybe for the Geek stuff).
Now, I’m not going to promise that I’ll write with the frequency I did before… that was my New Year’s Resolution for that year, to write regularly in the blog. And as I actually ended up with more blogposts then I originally thought I would, (It was originally “once every other week”, and then I upped it to “once a week”) I feel okay saying that resolution was fulfilled. (My resolution for this year was to “get into Boston more often”… which I’ve done pretty good with as well.) From here forward, I’ll post when I’ve gotten something written. Maybe once a week, maybe 3 times a week, maybe once a month or more. I’m not going to worry about schedules.
I do have several ideas lined up to write about… and I will get to them. Starting with the next post about the event that started off the hiatus (which happened just after the last post). Then I’ve got things and subjects that have happened in the last year, things I’ve tried, and things I’m thinking of trying. Now, I know I never had that many readers (frankly, I never felt it was the sole purpose of a blog), at least to my knowledge… but maybe you’ll find yourself back here too.
Take care.
11.11.2009
11.07.2008
Religion, Politics and The Great Pumpkin
“There are three things I have learned never to discuss with people… “ - Linus Van Pelt
(I may never get such a convenient opportunity to use that title again… it applies on several levels today… though, I’m actually working backwards.)
First up, my Halloween recap:
I went back to Salem… and actually had a much better time then before. Now, the stuff I said last year still applies, so I won’t repeat that. But the biggest difference was that this year… I went in costume. So not only was I “people-watching”… but I was also being watched by people.
Now, I did put some effort in to my costume. When I have the time to actually plan out in advance and make my own costume… I do pretty well. Last time I did was in 2001… I went as a tiger. To be precise… I was Hobbes from Calvin and Hobbes (greatest comic strip ever). I was simultaneously cute and lovable, and scary and terrifying… exactly like Hobbes himself (just ask him). Man, I wish I kept that costume…
But this year, the concept of it was a little more simplistic… but still required a bit of advance work… and I made the extra effort this year.
So what did I go as?
Charlie Brown… and his costume from It’s The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown.
When I went online looking for patterns and instructions how to make it… all I could really find was “just get an old sheet and cut a bunch of holes in it. You’re all done!”
No. Sorry… but that’s stupid. That’s what he did in the cartoon… but this is supposed to be a real-life representation of it. In the cartoon, a hole in the sheet shows a black oval. In reality, it’s a hole… that you see through, and see the face beyond. There’s no blackness involved. Plus, when you drape a sheet over yourself, there’s extra material falling where you don’t want it, and not enough material where you need it… you don’t get the simple cylindrical-shape that you get in the cartoon… because it’s a drawing.
I wanted to look like I came right out of the TV and started walking around. Sure, maybe I’m a tall Charlie Brown… but I think I did okay, all things considered. I bought a sheet and sewed it to try and get the right shape, and stitched black felt “holes” all over myself. For the eyes? I bought black mesh, folded it up and put it over the eye holes. No one could see in, but I could see out fairly easily. Yet, when it got dark, I knew it’d be even harder to see… so I’d have to eventually take it off. So, I made sure to make a yellow shirt and stitched the black scribble across the belly… for the full Charlie Brown effect.
But the part I’m probably most proud of… I had an Mp3 player with built-in speakers. I loaded the music of Vince Guaraldi on it… and when I walked around, you could hear “Linus and Lucy” (commonly known as “The Peanuts Theme”) quite clearly.
I am nothing if not dedicated.
Yet, I was incredibly surprised by the number of people that not only wanted my picture… but wanted a picture WITH me. I was stopped quite frequently by people politely asking for a photo op. It was really neat… I’ve *never* had that happen before. And when they heard the music… their smiles got so big it just made me smile, too.
Though… there were a very few select people that DIDN’T know what my costume was. A few were young kids… calling me, “That tall polka-dotted guy.” (I’m tall? Well… maybe to them.) Those I can understand… maybe they just never sat down and watched the show in their mere 10 years on earth. But I did run into an older woman who apparently thought I was the “ghost of a spotted cow”… but it clicked in when I told her. The coup de gras, however… a woman ran up to me and said, “Excuse me… I’m from Channel 4 news. What are you?”
“Uh…. Charlie Brown?”
“Oh, okay.” And then she walked away. The cameraman wasn’t pointing the camera at me or anything, so I don’t know why she bothered to tell me she was from the news… but I really wanted to say, “You don’t recognize an American Cultural Icon of Halloween for the last 50 years… and you’re job is to inform the masses????” I can understand the occasional person not figuring it out… but someone in the media shouldn’t be one of them. Am I wrong?
Anyway, like I said… I had a good time. Got a lot of pictures of other good costumes, met some nice people… even saw a guy dressed as Jeebus with a sign saying, “Judgment Day is Nigh! Show Me Your Tits and I Will Judge Them.” (Which I thought was *really* funny. I hope it pissed off the obnoxious street preachers who were constantly spouting how everyone deserves Hell. Why you gotta preach hate?)
One thing I’m surprised I *didn’t* see? More political costumes. A friend and I were remarking how we hadn’t seen any all night. I only saw one as I was walking back to my car… a guy dressed as John McCain. But that was it.
I found that surprising, as we were just 4 days away from Election at the time.
Of which… to take the opportunity of a segue…
Yes, of course I voted. I got up an extra half-hour early, left my house early so I could hit the polls before work. (I knew I wouldn’t have time afterwards) The most difficult wait was the traffic. But the voting itself? In and out in less then 5 minutes. We didn’t have the new-fangled electronic voting booths in our town. Ours was the old fashioned pen-to-paper kind. Your ballot is basically a scan-tron sheet like in school, and you blacken in the little circle for the people you’re voting for. And apparently, there are no propositions right now in my state, so we’re just voting for the people. *shrug*
Normally, I keep my voting selection private… because I am and always will be an Independent. I don’t go with the whole “Are you a Republican or a Democrat?” crapola. That’s why I don’t vote in the primaries. When you enter the building, they ask you which side you want to see… and they register you AS THAT SIDE. I’m not saying I AM a Democrat… I just want to see what they have to say. I plan to do the same for the Republican side… but they don’t allow that. You’re only allowed to listen to one side in the primaries, and I’m not down with that. I want to look at one set of options and pick what I think is the best. Then look at ANOTHER set of options, pick the best one from there… then have those two choices start talking to try and convince me. They don’t let you do it that way. In the election, you can be independent… in the primaries, they have to label you. So I don’t do the Primaries.
But I did vote for Barack Obama. I think in large part because he’s more inspirational then most other candidates in the last 20+ years. And I think national esteem and identity is at a low point… and overall we NEED someone inspirational now more than ever. It’s a damn good country we have… and we want to feel good about being Americans again. I think National Identity is kind of important.
So I think that this IS a historic moment in a few ways. And not just because of the color of Barack’s skin. (Of which it’s technically false to call him the first African-American President… because he’s Bi-Racial. His mom is white, and his dad is black. Which makes him a great bridge of the two worlds, yes… but media likes to throw out buzzwords without always having the accuracy to back it up. I’m just saying.)
I’m not saying that John McCain would be a BAD leader. In fact… frankly, I think he wouldn’t be too shabby. The personality he showed at his concession speech was the same one he showed at the very beginning of his campaign… but had completely disappeared throughout the middle. Had he showed that grace in the last several months, I would have listened to him more. But I think the strategists in the Republican Party (who don’t care about policies, politics, or the best man for the job… they just care about winning) told him, “This is what you need to do to win. Now do it.” So the mudslinging started. (Hey, Obama’s camp had them, too.)
I also believe those same strategists told him to do what would become the absolute deal-breaker for me. He picked Sarah Palin as a running mate. I believe they came up to him and said, “America doesn’t want to see 2 Old White Men in the White House this time around. No matter what, the Democrats are giving them something different… so we HAVE to shake this up or we’re done for. Here, this one seems like a good puppet!”
When I first heard she was picked… I said, “Okay, let’s give her a chance. I know nothing about her, so let’s see what she’s got.” The first thing I read: She’s a staunch supporter of Abstinence-Only Education.
“I’m out!”
Yeah… because it doesn’t work. The numbers tell you it doesn’t work. The kids themselves tell you it doesn’t work. Guess what? It doesn’t work. Her own DAUGHTER is a teenage pregnancy… though, apparently that’s okay because “they’re planning to get married, anyway.” (Even though the guy’s MySpace profile clearly stated he didn’t want to get married or even have a long-term relationship with the girl. The same profile that mysteriously disappeared shortly after… Gee, who did that, I wonder?) That’s not even talking about all the OTHER things I read shortly after.
2 weeks after she was announced, I saw a book in the bookstore with her picture large and in-charge on the front… the title of the book was “Sarah: How a hockey mom turned the political establishment upside down”. Sorry, she didn’t “turn it upside-down”. It only made so much news because it was a completely nonsensical choice, that has no basis in this, or any other, plain of reality. She is not a “maverick”… no matter how often she says the damn word. I don’t care for her being a “hockey mom”… which is no slight on hockey moms. I’ve known Soccer Moms and Football Moms and many other types… but NONE of them are people I would want to place on the other side of the table… from Kim Jong Il. Or any of the other 1,000 psychos with political power in this world. (Hilary, at least, would grab them by the balls and twist… figuratively AND literally.) She has contradicted herself several times, shown ignorance and intolerance… and knowing that she might be a heartbeat away from the presidency… honestly scared me. That’s what shot McCain in the foot. If it was anyone else he picked… I would have had a harder decision.
So, I feel we dodged a bullet with this election. For that, I’m very thankful. I went to sleep Tuesday night pleased.
Woke up Wednesday, however… not-so-pleased.
When I discovered that Prop 8 in California passed. Proposition 8 is for the Ban of Gay Marriage. (Arizona and Florida passed it, too.)
I don’t care that I’m straight. I don’t care that I no longer live in California. I called that state “home” for 7 years, and many people that I love are still there… so I feel I have a vested interest in what happens out there. Finding out that several of my friends now are about to have their marriages dissolved, as if they never happened. And many more that are now told they’ll never be able to marry the person they love.
Those that know me, know that I would take bullets for my friends. But there’s nothing I can do about this. And it hurts so much, I’ve actually cried over this.
In the same 24 hour period of electing a historic president… a culmination of a movement that started with Abraham Lincoln and gained momentum with Martin Luther King Jr… as one minority group is validated, another is pushed down and is now LEGALLY considered to be second-class citizens, and not granted the basic human rights of others.
Hell, I was shocked to find that it was such a close race! (51% to 49%) I felt sure that it would be blown out of the water! But no. Why there are still people who so readily promote hate and discrimination on such a grand level… astounds me to no end.
I’ve heard their arguments… “the government doesn’t have the right to legislate the definition of marriage that’s been around for hundreds of years!” Pardon me… isn’t that EXACTLY what you’ve just done? You’ve used legislation and the political process to legally define what marriage is??? That is known as Hypocrisy.
I’ve heard their logic… “to protect the sanctity of marriage”. Okay, you’ve just opened up a can of worms… because they’re constantly using the word “sanctity”. “Sanctity” refers to something that is “Sacred”, which is a term to refer to something that is Holy or “From God”. That means you’re talking about RELIGION.
First amendment of the Constitution (correct me if I’m wrong) explicitly states that we’re allowed the “Freedom of Religion”. So what’s “Sacred” to one person isn’t so to another person… and that’s a-okay! You can’t infringe on their BASIC freedom of religion!
Wait a minute… what’s that say? Right there… look… here, at the Constitution. A little further down. What’s this, “Separation of Church and State”? Oh yeah… that means that Religion and Government have to stay as FAR away from each other as possible. One cannot dictate or influence the other.
So if marriage is a RELIGIOUS institution… then you can’t say anything, because THEIR religious beliefs allow them to marry, and we protect that with blood, sweat and history… and government can’t do anything about it.
If marriage is a LEGAL institution… then religion has absolutely nothing to do with it. Since the sole arguments against Gay Marriage is all about religion… then they have NO argument.
And if it’s both? Well, you’re doubly fucked. So take one of them and sit the fuck down. Take the other and shut the fuck up.
Proposition 8 should never have been on the ballot in the first place.
But hope remains.
There are some lawsuits already filed… trying to get this overturned. The one that I think is the most logical one has to do with “minor” and “major” changes. In California, minor changes are “amendments”, and are passed with a majority vote (51% or more). But major changes, “revisions”, have to be passed with a 2/3 majority vote.
Does taking away the civil rights of an entire demographic qualify as a “minor change”? I think not. Hopefully, the State Supreme Court of California will also see it that way. If so… then Prop 8 is 15% short, and it will be overturned!
People may have failed… but maybe Justice can still win.
So we have to remain hopeful. As hopeful as we were Tuesday night when we told the world who we wanted our new leader to be.
As hopeful as Linus, who dutifully sits every year in the most sincere Pumpkin Patch he can find… believing and hoping that The Great Pumpkin will finally arrive.
Now I’m waiting, too.
(I may never get such a convenient opportunity to use that title again… it applies on several levels today… though, I’m actually working backwards.)
First up, my Halloween recap:
I went back to Salem… and actually had a much better time then before. Now, the stuff I said last year still applies, so I won’t repeat that. But the biggest difference was that this year… I went in costume. So not only was I “people-watching”… but I was also being watched by people.
Now, I did put some effort in to my costume. When I have the time to actually plan out in advance and make my own costume… I do pretty well. Last time I did was in 2001… I went as a tiger. To be precise… I was Hobbes from Calvin and Hobbes (greatest comic strip ever). I was simultaneously cute and lovable, and scary and terrifying… exactly like Hobbes himself (just ask him). Man, I wish I kept that costume…
But this year, the concept of it was a little more simplistic… but still required a bit of advance work… and I made the extra effort this year.
So what did I go as?
Charlie Brown… and his costume from It’s The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown.
When I went online looking for patterns and instructions how to make it… all I could really find was “just get an old sheet and cut a bunch of holes in it. You’re all done!”
No. Sorry… but that’s stupid. That’s what he did in the cartoon… but this is supposed to be a real-life representation of it. In the cartoon, a hole in the sheet shows a black oval. In reality, it’s a hole… that you see through, and see the face beyond. There’s no blackness involved. Plus, when you drape a sheet over yourself, there’s extra material falling where you don’t want it, and not enough material where you need it… you don’t get the simple cylindrical-shape that you get in the cartoon… because it’s a drawing.
I wanted to look like I came right out of the TV and started walking around. Sure, maybe I’m a tall Charlie Brown… but I think I did okay, all things considered. I bought a sheet and sewed it to try and get the right shape, and stitched black felt “holes” all over myself. For the eyes? I bought black mesh, folded it up and put it over the eye holes. No one could see in, but I could see out fairly easily. Yet, when it got dark, I knew it’d be even harder to see… so I’d have to eventually take it off. So, I made sure to make a yellow shirt and stitched the black scribble across the belly… for the full Charlie Brown effect.
But the part I’m probably most proud of… I had an Mp3 player with built-in speakers. I loaded the music of Vince Guaraldi on it… and when I walked around, you could hear “Linus and Lucy” (commonly known as “The Peanuts Theme”) quite clearly.
I am nothing if not dedicated.
Yet, I was incredibly surprised by the number of people that not only wanted my picture… but wanted a picture WITH me. I was stopped quite frequently by people politely asking for a photo op. It was really neat… I’ve *never* had that happen before. And when they heard the music… their smiles got so big it just made me smile, too.
Though… there were a very few select people that DIDN’T know what my costume was. A few were young kids… calling me, “That tall polka-dotted guy.” (I’m tall? Well… maybe to them.) Those I can understand… maybe they just never sat down and watched the show in their mere 10 years on earth. But I did run into an older woman who apparently thought I was the “ghost of a spotted cow”… but it clicked in when I told her. The coup de gras, however… a woman ran up to me and said, “Excuse me… I’m from Channel 4 news. What are you?”
“Uh…. Charlie Brown?”
“Oh, okay.” And then she walked away. The cameraman wasn’t pointing the camera at me or anything, so I don’t know why she bothered to tell me she was from the news… but I really wanted to say, “You don’t recognize an American Cultural Icon of Halloween for the last 50 years… and you’re job is to inform the masses????” I can understand the occasional person not figuring it out… but someone in the media shouldn’t be one of them. Am I wrong?
Anyway, like I said… I had a good time. Got a lot of pictures of other good costumes, met some nice people… even saw a guy dressed as Jeebus with a sign saying, “Judgment Day is Nigh! Show Me Your Tits and I Will Judge Them.” (Which I thought was *really* funny. I hope it pissed off the obnoxious street preachers who were constantly spouting how everyone deserves Hell. Why you gotta preach hate?)
One thing I’m surprised I *didn’t* see? More political costumes. A friend and I were remarking how we hadn’t seen any all night. I only saw one as I was walking back to my car… a guy dressed as John McCain. But that was it.
I found that surprising, as we were just 4 days away from Election at the time.
Of which… to take the opportunity of a segue…
Yes, of course I voted. I got up an extra half-hour early, left my house early so I could hit the polls before work. (I knew I wouldn’t have time afterwards) The most difficult wait was the traffic. But the voting itself? In and out in less then 5 minutes. We didn’t have the new-fangled electronic voting booths in our town. Ours was the old fashioned pen-to-paper kind. Your ballot is basically a scan-tron sheet like in school, and you blacken in the little circle for the people you’re voting for. And apparently, there are no propositions right now in my state, so we’re just voting for the people. *shrug*
Normally, I keep my voting selection private… because I am and always will be an Independent. I don’t go with the whole “Are you a Republican or a Democrat?” crapola. That’s why I don’t vote in the primaries. When you enter the building, they ask you which side you want to see… and they register you AS THAT SIDE. I’m not saying I AM a Democrat… I just want to see what they have to say. I plan to do the same for the Republican side… but they don’t allow that. You’re only allowed to listen to one side in the primaries, and I’m not down with that. I want to look at one set of options and pick what I think is the best. Then look at ANOTHER set of options, pick the best one from there… then have those two choices start talking to try and convince me. They don’t let you do it that way. In the election, you can be independent… in the primaries, they have to label you. So I don’t do the Primaries.
But I did vote for Barack Obama. I think in large part because he’s more inspirational then most other candidates in the last 20+ years. And I think national esteem and identity is at a low point… and overall we NEED someone inspirational now more than ever. It’s a damn good country we have… and we want to feel good about being Americans again. I think National Identity is kind of important.
So I think that this IS a historic moment in a few ways. And not just because of the color of Barack’s skin. (Of which it’s technically false to call him the first African-American President… because he’s Bi-Racial. His mom is white, and his dad is black. Which makes him a great bridge of the two worlds, yes… but media likes to throw out buzzwords without always having the accuracy to back it up. I’m just saying.)
I’m not saying that John McCain would be a BAD leader. In fact… frankly, I think he wouldn’t be too shabby. The personality he showed at his concession speech was the same one he showed at the very beginning of his campaign… but had completely disappeared throughout the middle. Had he showed that grace in the last several months, I would have listened to him more. But I think the strategists in the Republican Party (who don’t care about policies, politics, or the best man for the job… they just care about winning) told him, “This is what you need to do to win. Now do it.” So the mudslinging started. (Hey, Obama’s camp had them, too.)
I also believe those same strategists told him to do what would become the absolute deal-breaker for me. He picked Sarah Palin as a running mate. I believe they came up to him and said, “America doesn’t want to see 2 Old White Men in the White House this time around. No matter what, the Democrats are giving them something different… so we HAVE to shake this up or we’re done for. Here, this one seems like a good puppet!”
When I first heard she was picked… I said, “Okay, let’s give her a chance. I know nothing about her, so let’s see what she’s got.” The first thing I read: She’s a staunch supporter of Abstinence-Only Education.
“I’m out!”
Yeah… because it doesn’t work. The numbers tell you it doesn’t work. The kids themselves tell you it doesn’t work. Guess what? It doesn’t work. Her own DAUGHTER is a teenage pregnancy… though, apparently that’s okay because “they’re planning to get married, anyway.” (Even though the guy’s MySpace profile clearly stated he didn’t want to get married or even have a long-term relationship with the girl. The same profile that mysteriously disappeared shortly after… Gee, who did that, I wonder?) That’s not even talking about all the OTHER things I read shortly after.
2 weeks after she was announced, I saw a book in the bookstore with her picture large and in-charge on the front… the title of the book was “Sarah: How a hockey mom turned the political establishment upside down”. Sorry, she didn’t “turn it upside-down”. It only made so much news because it was a completely nonsensical choice, that has no basis in this, or any other, plain of reality. She is not a “maverick”… no matter how often she says the damn word. I don’t care for her being a “hockey mom”… which is no slight on hockey moms. I’ve known Soccer Moms and Football Moms and many other types… but NONE of them are people I would want to place on the other side of the table… from Kim Jong Il. Or any of the other 1,000 psychos with political power in this world. (Hilary, at least, would grab them by the balls and twist… figuratively AND literally.) She has contradicted herself several times, shown ignorance and intolerance… and knowing that she might be a heartbeat away from the presidency… honestly scared me. That’s what shot McCain in the foot. If it was anyone else he picked… I would have had a harder decision.
So, I feel we dodged a bullet with this election. For that, I’m very thankful. I went to sleep Tuesday night pleased.
Woke up Wednesday, however… not-so-pleased.
When I discovered that Prop 8 in California passed. Proposition 8 is for the Ban of Gay Marriage. (Arizona and Florida passed it, too.)
I don’t care that I’m straight. I don’t care that I no longer live in California. I called that state “home” for 7 years, and many people that I love are still there… so I feel I have a vested interest in what happens out there. Finding out that several of my friends now are about to have their marriages dissolved, as if they never happened. And many more that are now told they’ll never be able to marry the person they love.
Those that know me, know that I would take bullets for my friends. But there’s nothing I can do about this. And it hurts so much, I’ve actually cried over this.
In the same 24 hour period of electing a historic president… a culmination of a movement that started with Abraham Lincoln and gained momentum with Martin Luther King Jr… as one minority group is validated, another is pushed down and is now LEGALLY considered to be second-class citizens, and not granted the basic human rights of others.
Hell, I was shocked to find that it was such a close race! (51% to 49%) I felt sure that it would be blown out of the water! But no. Why there are still people who so readily promote hate and discrimination on such a grand level… astounds me to no end.
I’ve heard their arguments… “the government doesn’t have the right to legislate the definition of marriage that’s been around for hundreds of years!” Pardon me… isn’t that EXACTLY what you’ve just done? You’ve used legislation and the political process to legally define what marriage is??? That is known as Hypocrisy.
I’ve heard their logic… “to protect the sanctity of marriage”. Okay, you’ve just opened up a can of worms… because they’re constantly using the word “sanctity”. “Sanctity” refers to something that is “Sacred”, which is a term to refer to something that is Holy or “From God”. That means you’re talking about RELIGION.
First amendment of the Constitution (correct me if I’m wrong) explicitly states that we’re allowed the “Freedom of Religion”. So what’s “Sacred” to one person isn’t so to another person… and that’s a-okay! You can’t infringe on their BASIC freedom of religion!
Wait a minute… what’s that say? Right there… look… here, at the Constitution. A little further down. What’s this, “Separation of Church and State”? Oh yeah… that means that Religion and Government have to stay as FAR away from each other as possible. One cannot dictate or influence the other.
So if marriage is a RELIGIOUS institution… then you can’t say anything, because THEIR religious beliefs allow them to marry, and we protect that with blood, sweat and history… and government can’t do anything about it.
If marriage is a LEGAL institution… then religion has absolutely nothing to do with it. Since the sole arguments against Gay Marriage is all about religion… then they have NO argument.
And if it’s both? Well, you’re doubly fucked. So take one of them and sit the fuck down. Take the other and shut the fuck up.
Proposition 8 should never have been on the ballot in the first place.
But hope remains.
There are some lawsuits already filed… trying to get this overturned. The one that I think is the most logical one has to do with “minor” and “major” changes. In California, minor changes are “amendments”, and are passed with a majority vote (51% or more). But major changes, “revisions”, have to be passed with a 2/3 majority vote.
Does taking away the civil rights of an entire demographic qualify as a “minor change”? I think not. Hopefully, the State Supreme Court of California will also see it that way. If so… then Prop 8 is 15% short, and it will be overturned!
People may have failed… but maybe Justice can still win.
So we have to remain hopeful. As hopeful as we were Tuesday night when we told the world who we wanted our new leader to be.
As hopeful as Linus, who dutifully sits every year in the most sincere Pumpkin Patch he can find… believing and hoping that The Great Pumpkin will finally arrive.
Now I’m waiting, too.
10.17.2008
PostSecret Update: UVM
I said I’d do it… and here it is.
I finally got to go to a PostSecret event.
The last one that came close to my area… got cancelled a few days before it happened. Yeah, me not happy about that. Now, when I heard that the University of Vermont was hosting one… well, it’s the closest it has since come to me… so I’m going.
Burlington, Vermont is a 3 hour drive from me… so it was going to have to be a day trip. I figured I’d take a half-day at work, leaving at noon… and just get back REALLY late that night. The website said it was scheduled from 7pm to 10pm… so I was expecting to be home a little after 1:00am, probably later. Sure, the lack of sleep was going to be hell… but something about planning for it way ahead of time doesn’t make it seem so bad.
Of course, had I realized that the day before was Columbus Day, of which I had the day off… I might have just taken a full day for an extra-long weekend. Oh well.
After about a 3 hour drive, I got into Burlington. Now, I’d been there once before, about 11 years ago with some friends for a small day trip during college. But I didn’t drive, and I only remembered this little outdoor-mall area. As far as I knew, that was the extent of Burlington. I had forgotten the whole town was built around a fairly big school. (Or maybe it was vice-versa) I actually lucked out with my parking… I got into a tiny lot not far from the building where the presentation was going to be. Just as some lady from New York State was pulling out of a space, I snagged that one. (Score!)
I went to pick up the tickets (I ordered them online in advance… I’d be damned if I drove 3 hours to and from just to find that they were sold out), and saw that it was actually a chapel. Most of the buildings I saw looked to have that “chapel-like” architecture… but this was an actual chapel, yet it didn’t look like it was used for actual services. (If it was, they were very sparse with the religious iconography) I did see a sign that told me it WAS used for Tae-Kwon-Do classes… which I think is great! Hell, if I had that near me, I’d have gone to church more myself. There was a group of student workers setting up a table display of all 4 PostSecret books… and by “setting up”, I mean they were sitting and reading them. Couldn’t blame them… I’d be doing the same. Got the tickets from them, and called my friend that I was meeting.
She’s an old friend from college… I don’t think I’ve seen her since before I first went to California, but we kept in occasional communication. She’s the one that got me onto Facebook (or rather, the final person to prod me before I finally caved), and she drove up 2 hours herself to get there. She took the whole day off, and spent the whole day in Burlington.
I headed downtown to meet her, and on my way passed a picture stuck to a lamppost. It was a flyer advertising some local band concert or event (I don’t even remember what it was)… but as many of these college-type advertisers do, they grab humorous pictures from wherever they find (mostly the Net these days) and use them on their flyers, regardless of the copyright. Since its college, no one ever really cares. This picture… was of Chewbacca grabbing Princess Leia’s boob, and both turned giving a faux-shock gasp. This wasn’t a drawing… it was a PHOTO. And I *don’t* think it was photoshopped. My guess is it was a picture they took behind the scenes while goofing around during Empire Strikes Back. This part has nothing to do with PostSecret… it just made me laugh.
Met my friend and we went and got sushi. Mmmmm…. Sushi. We talked, did some catching up, and then headed to the chapel, as the doors were scheduled to open soon. When we arrived, there was already a fairly respectable line formed. We sidled on up and got in line. Soon after, the line started REALLY growing. Thank Jeebus we got in line when we did. The young lady that stood right behind us struck up a conversation, and we chatted for a bit… asking where we were from, how we heard about PostSecret and all that small-talk stuff. She was a nice gal, very pleasant, even ended up sitting next to us inside.
Looking at the rest of the crowd… I think my friend and I were probably the oldest ones there. Hmmm… I guess I was hoping for a little more age variation in the audience, but then again, it’s a college campus… what was I expecting? I also found myself surprised by the fact that there seemed to be very few guys in the crowd… it was probably 90% girls. Normally, I don’t mind being genderly outnumbered… but this situation felt a little off. Maybe it was just the combination of the two. *shrug*
Some security came around for a quick camera check (they weren’t allowed inside), and we started to slowly file in. The seats were pews (it was a chapel, after all), and we actually ended up with a pretty good view I thought. We weren’t right up to the stage, but we weren’t far back enough to have trouble seeing or reading anything that was up there. I thought we got a good spot.
We waited there for a while longer, and a little after 7:00, it started. Frank Warren, the guy who started and runs the site, came out… a very calm, unassuming guy. He didn’t exude an overpowering feel-good touchy-feely fakeness, he seemed humble, modest… normal. Hearing him talk, it felt… genuine. He wasn’t giving pseudo-pschological Oprah/Dr. Phil-style speeches about how you should feel good about yourself… in fact, the things he did talk about, and the stories he relayed… were about listening. He wasn’t the kind of guy that did a lot of talking… he listened.
That’s the best part about PostSecret… even the best part about when I was going to therapy for the time I did… just being able to have someone LISTEN to you. I mean, *truly* listen… without judging or just waiting for their turn to talk. And when you send in a postcard, you really do have someone listening… potentially thousands. But guaranteed… at least one.
When it came to the part of the presentation where the audience was invited to share their own secrets… with 2 microphone stands set up in the aisles. A few people started to get up and formed a small line at each. Frank had mentioned how the lines were always small at first, but quickly grew (mainly because few people are comfortable being first). After a few secrets were told, I turned to my friend and asked, “Should I?”
In retrospect, I know that just saying that is me looking for a “yes, go.” So even though she said, “I don’t know… do what you want”… I decided to get in line.
I’ve sent in secrets, texted them and randomly placed them around my gym… it seemed almost silly to drive 3 hours there and NOT say something. Was I going there for the experience to be just voyeuristic… or for it to be cathartic? I don’t know if it was ever about voyeurism (maybe a little bit)… but the other always seemed more important to me. So I got up.
Just after I did, Frank asked that no more people got in line… but we would hear those who were already there. I looked behind me… no one. I looked at the pattern of going back and forth between the two microphones… and figured out that I was going to be the LAST person that spoke one. More than not being first… I didn’t want to be the LAST one. Maybe the performer in me felt slightly pressured to give a really good last secret for people to end the night with, but mine wasn’t that kind of secret. But… when it got to me, I just said what I was going to. I tried to say it simply… I didn’t want to give explanation or a set-up, and I tried to pick the words carefully so it wouldn’t take long. I tried to say it like I would on a postcard.
Probably didn’t make a lot of sense to all the others… but it’s what I wanted to say, so screw ‘em.
The presentation ended not long afterwards… actually, I thought it was going to go a lot longer. It definitely could have. It was only about 8:30 when it finished. Frank was being taken over to the next building for the book signing portion of the evening, and most people were either leaving or heading over there. My friend decided to get on the road and head home… I wanted to hang around just a little longer.
I didn’t bring any of my PostSecret books to be signed… which is okay, because I’m not really into the autograph collecting. To me, the experience of being there was more important… and that happened whether I have an ink scribble to prove it or not. But I got into line anyway… because I just wanted to shake his hand. He’s read my secrets, he listened… as he’s done with a few hundred thousand others… and never violated that trust. I’ve only witnessed integrity from him and the website… and I think that’s worth a handshake.
When I got to the front of the line, and it was my turn… I told him, “I’ve sent in secrets… I’ve texted them, and even randomly placed them around…
… But never this one.”
And I handed him a folded up piece of paper… where I had written another secret. One I’ve never told ANYONE… one that I’ve never even formed into words, spoken or written. It’s not something *I* think is bad… but something that I was made to be ashamed of when I was a kid. I’ve never told my best friend… nor any of my girlfriends, not even the one I thought was “the one”. But I told him.
He smiled and thanked me, and shook my hand. I said, “Thank you… for all that you do.”
Then I turned around and walked away… then drove 3 hours to get home.
And you know something? The 6 hours of driving was completely worth it. While driving and reflecting on the trip… I started to tear up a little, and I’m not even completely sure why.
He’s been called, “The Most Trusted Stranger in America”… he humbly says he’s not so sure of that.
I think there’s a damn good argument for it.
I finally got to go to a PostSecret event.
The last one that came close to my area… got cancelled a few days before it happened. Yeah, me not happy about that. Now, when I heard that the University of Vermont was hosting one… well, it’s the closest it has since come to me… so I’m going.
Burlington, Vermont is a 3 hour drive from me… so it was going to have to be a day trip. I figured I’d take a half-day at work, leaving at noon… and just get back REALLY late that night. The website said it was scheduled from 7pm to 10pm… so I was expecting to be home a little after 1:00am, probably later. Sure, the lack of sleep was going to be hell… but something about planning for it way ahead of time doesn’t make it seem so bad.
Of course, had I realized that the day before was Columbus Day, of which I had the day off… I might have just taken a full day for an extra-long weekend. Oh well.
After about a 3 hour drive, I got into Burlington. Now, I’d been there once before, about 11 years ago with some friends for a small day trip during college. But I didn’t drive, and I only remembered this little outdoor-mall area. As far as I knew, that was the extent of Burlington. I had forgotten the whole town was built around a fairly big school. (Or maybe it was vice-versa) I actually lucked out with my parking… I got into a tiny lot not far from the building where the presentation was going to be. Just as some lady from New York State was pulling out of a space, I snagged that one. (Score!)
I went to pick up the tickets (I ordered them online in advance… I’d be damned if I drove 3 hours to and from just to find that they were sold out), and saw that it was actually a chapel. Most of the buildings I saw looked to have that “chapel-like” architecture… but this was an actual chapel, yet it didn’t look like it was used for actual services. (If it was, they were very sparse with the religious iconography) I did see a sign that told me it WAS used for Tae-Kwon-Do classes… which I think is great! Hell, if I had that near me, I’d have gone to church more myself. There was a group of student workers setting up a table display of all 4 PostSecret books… and by “setting up”, I mean they were sitting and reading them. Couldn’t blame them… I’d be doing the same. Got the tickets from them, and called my friend that I was meeting.
She’s an old friend from college… I don’t think I’ve seen her since before I first went to California, but we kept in occasional communication. She’s the one that got me onto Facebook (or rather, the final person to prod me before I finally caved), and she drove up 2 hours herself to get there. She took the whole day off, and spent the whole day in Burlington.
I headed downtown to meet her, and on my way passed a picture stuck to a lamppost. It was a flyer advertising some local band concert or event (I don’t even remember what it was)… but as many of these college-type advertisers do, they grab humorous pictures from wherever they find (mostly the Net these days) and use them on their flyers, regardless of the copyright. Since its college, no one ever really cares. This picture… was of Chewbacca grabbing Princess Leia’s boob, and both turned giving a faux-shock gasp. This wasn’t a drawing… it was a PHOTO. And I *don’t* think it was photoshopped. My guess is it was a picture they took behind the scenes while goofing around during Empire Strikes Back. This part has nothing to do with PostSecret… it just made me laugh.
Met my friend and we went and got sushi. Mmmmm…. Sushi. We talked, did some catching up, and then headed to the chapel, as the doors were scheduled to open soon. When we arrived, there was already a fairly respectable line formed. We sidled on up and got in line. Soon after, the line started REALLY growing. Thank Jeebus we got in line when we did. The young lady that stood right behind us struck up a conversation, and we chatted for a bit… asking where we were from, how we heard about PostSecret and all that small-talk stuff. She was a nice gal, very pleasant, even ended up sitting next to us inside.
Looking at the rest of the crowd… I think my friend and I were probably the oldest ones there. Hmmm… I guess I was hoping for a little more age variation in the audience, but then again, it’s a college campus… what was I expecting? I also found myself surprised by the fact that there seemed to be very few guys in the crowd… it was probably 90% girls. Normally, I don’t mind being genderly outnumbered… but this situation felt a little off. Maybe it was just the combination of the two. *shrug*
Some security came around for a quick camera check (they weren’t allowed inside), and we started to slowly file in. The seats were pews (it was a chapel, after all), and we actually ended up with a pretty good view I thought. We weren’t right up to the stage, but we weren’t far back enough to have trouble seeing or reading anything that was up there. I thought we got a good spot.
We waited there for a while longer, and a little after 7:00, it started. Frank Warren, the guy who started and runs the site, came out… a very calm, unassuming guy. He didn’t exude an overpowering feel-good touchy-feely fakeness, he seemed humble, modest… normal. Hearing him talk, it felt… genuine. He wasn’t giving pseudo-pschological Oprah/Dr. Phil-style speeches about how you should feel good about yourself… in fact, the things he did talk about, and the stories he relayed… were about listening. He wasn’t the kind of guy that did a lot of talking… he listened.
That’s the best part about PostSecret… even the best part about when I was going to therapy for the time I did… just being able to have someone LISTEN to you. I mean, *truly* listen… without judging or just waiting for their turn to talk. And when you send in a postcard, you really do have someone listening… potentially thousands. But guaranteed… at least one.
When it came to the part of the presentation where the audience was invited to share their own secrets… with 2 microphone stands set up in the aisles. A few people started to get up and formed a small line at each. Frank had mentioned how the lines were always small at first, but quickly grew (mainly because few people are comfortable being first). After a few secrets were told, I turned to my friend and asked, “Should I?”
In retrospect, I know that just saying that is me looking for a “yes, go.” So even though she said, “I don’t know… do what you want”… I decided to get in line.
I’ve sent in secrets, texted them and randomly placed them around my gym… it seemed almost silly to drive 3 hours there and NOT say something. Was I going there for the experience to be just voyeuristic… or for it to be cathartic? I don’t know if it was ever about voyeurism (maybe a little bit)… but the other always seemed more important to me. So I got up.
Just after I did, Frank asked that no more people got in line… but we would hear those who were already there. I looked behind me… no one. I looked at the pattern of going back and forth between the two microphones… and figured out that I was going to be the LAST person that spoke one. More than not being first… I didn’t want to be the LAST one. Maybe the performer in me felt slightly pressured to give a really good last secret for people to end the night with, but mine wasn’t that kind of secret. But… when it got to me, I just said what I was going to. I tried to say it simply… I didn’t want to give explanation or a set-up, and I tried to pick the words carefully so it wouldn’t take long. I tried to say it like I would on a postcard.
Probably didn’t make a lot of sense to all the others… but it’s what I wanted to say, so screw ‘em.
The presentation ended not long afterwards… actually, I thought it was going to go a lot longer. It definitely could have. It was only about 8:30 when it finished. Frank was being taken over to the next building for the book signing portion of the evening, and most people were either leaving or heading over there. My friend decided to get on the road and head home… I wanted to hang around just a little longer.
I didn’t bring any of my PostSecret books to be signed… which is okay, because I’m not really into the autograph collecting. To me, the experience of being there was more important… and that happened whether I have an ink scribble to prove it or not. But I got into line anyway… because I just wanted to shake his hand. He’s read my secrets, he listened… as he’s done with a few hundred thousand others… and never violated that trust. I’ve only witnessed integrity from him and the website… and I think that’s worth a handshake.
When I got to the front of the line, and it was my turn… I told him, “I’ve sent in secrets… I’ve texted them, and even randomly placed them around…
… But never this one.”
And I handed him a folded up piece of paper… where I had written another secret. One I’ve never told ANYONE… one that I’ve never even formed into words, spoken or written. It’s not something *I* think is bad… but something that I was made to be ashamed of when I was a kid. I’ve never told my best friend… nor any of my girlfriends, not even the one I thought was “the one”. But I told him.
He smiled and thanked me, and shook my hand. I said, “Thank you… for all that you do.”
Then I turned around and walked away… then drove 3 hours to get home.
And you know something? The 6 hours of driving was completely worth it. While driving and reflecting on the trip… I started to tear up a little, and I’m not even completely sure why.
He’s been called, “The Most Trusted Stranger in America”… he humbly says he’s not so sure of that.
I think there’s a damn good argument for it.
10.11.2008
Do-over Make-over
I seem to be going through a bit of a makeover. Granted, it’s a slow, subtle makeover… but a makeover all the same.
I just got a new pair of glasses, for one. The last time I had glasses was the pair that I lost when I was in Grad School… about 8 years ago. I never bothered to replace them, and have just used my contact lenses ever since. I had that particular pair for about 7 years by that point… and they just didn’t go well with my face, anyway. (Maybe they did at one point… but in growing, my face changed shape a little, and I just didn’t like the way they fit… so I wasn’t heartbroken or even slightly stressed when they got misplaced)
I had shopped around a couple months ago, toying with the idea of going with glasses again (because putting in the contacts everyday can be annoying)… but the store I went into had the salesman wanting me to try on “all the latest styles”. I asked for a particular shape of frames, and he just told me how they “don’t really have any in that shape… they’re not in style. But these look good on you!” Yeah, thanks Sparky. But this isn’t a t-shirt or a funky pair of jeans… these are significantly more expensive… and are meant to last upwards of a few years, at the very least. So the LAST thing I want is the “latest style”… which will look very stupid as soon as the NEXT style is “in”. I want something that’s going to look good on ME… and compliment my face, no matter what the latest “style” is. No matter how often I said, “I don’t care what the latest style is”, he kept saying it. I eventually left, making it clear I wasn’t buying anything from him. Screw his commission. Maybe he should try actual customer service.
Then, a little over a week ago, I got a notice at work… I’ve been paying into a “flex medical spending” account all year. (If you buy anything vaguely medical… you can get reimbursed from this fund, as you’ve already paid for it. Mainly a handy way to keep some money aside for random medical stuff that comes up.) Apparently, if I don’t use up what’s in there before the end of the year… I completely lose it. So, I could just buy a bunch of cough syrup in December… but then I figured this is a good time to get those new eyeglasses.
So, I put the call out to some female friends and relatives… looking for anyone in the area who’s available to help me pick out a pair, or give suggestions. A female friend did say that she thought I’d look “delicious in glasses”… which was nice encouragement. One of my cousins said she was available, and recommended a store that she always had good luck with. I also got suggestions from my gay friends. (Because that’s who I trust for fashion advice… women and gay men. It seems to work.) I was told to look for “round, frameless lenses”… as they would compliment the shape of my face (which can look a little “blocky”), and be subtle enough to let my face be seen and not distracted.
That part actually fits my personal tastes. I don’t want something that says, “LOOK I’M WEARING GLASSES”. It’s like my shirts… I don’t do a lot of printed t-shirts with logos or funny sayings on them. I’d rather have people look at me and see *me*… not some clever art or gag that someone else wrote.
I think I did well with the glasses I picked out. They are frameless… and roundish (if not perfectly round). Not many people seem to notice them at first… but some eventually said, “Did you wear glasses before?” Yeah, I think that means they’re subtle enough.
The other big makeover element… is that I’ve been hitting the gym. Now, I don’t want to get to a point where I invalidate last year’s post about my fat days… but rather, I think this move compliments it. In the past, I had started working out after I was feeling particularly good about myself… this particular instance started a little differently.
I was at a friend’s house for his 8-year-old daughter’s birthday. I was there making animal balloons, juggling, etc… most of the stuff I used to do when I did children’s parties back West. Anyway… those kids tired me out WAY too quickly. And when I used to work with a Kid’s Theatre Group… I was helping to deal with 30+ kids every day for 5 days a week, for up to 6 weeks at a time. Now, one day for a few hours… I’m dead tired. Some pointed out, “Yeah, but you were in the Bounce-House… that will tire anyone out!” Which is true… maybe I shouldn’t feel so bad… but I still felt like I should have lasted longer than that. I so quickly got to the point of “over-exertion” that it seriously felt like something was wrong. So the next day, I went to the gym closest to my work, and signed up. (It helps that my work reimburses me for half the cost of the gym)
I do like this gym… much better than when I used to go to Schmally’s Total Fitness. Here, they tout it as a “judgment-free zone”. (Nice thought… but how do you control someone “thinking”?) They also have a trainer on-hand to help you out, almost all the time. When I joined Shmally’s… one of their bonuses was a “free hour with a personal trainer”, which was basically a one-hour advertisement to spend $1,000 to hire him. Wasn’t useful at all. Here, they actually sit down with you and create a personalized workout plan based on you and what your goals are. (My goals: “To have more energy, and to look good naked.” Hey, everyone’s thinking that… I just had the balls to say it.) That’s exactly what I need… a structured plan. If you just give me a bunch of machines and say “Go for it”… I’ll do a bunch of excercises, but I’ll end up missing a lot of key muscle groups, because I won’t know what I’m doing. They also gave me a little dietary advice, and they’re always willing to answer my questions whenever I ask. This is a much better place than Bally-… I mean, Schmally’s. (Don’t want to do any endorsements either way)
I started that program in mid-August. My goal was to hopefully see some decent results by Halloween. Figured 2 ½ months was a reasonable amount of time to do so. Well, since then, the bathroom scale has constantly said “205 lbs”… then again, my cat stepped across it the other day, and I could have sworn it said “205 lbs”… so I’m thinking I can’t exactly trust it. My arms have gotten a little bigger… and my legs are a little slimmer… yet I haven’t really noticed anything in the belly-area… the part I was mainly concerned about. But last week, when I went for a haircut… the girl that I go to asked me if I’ve lost weight, saying I look a little slimmer. That comment just ensured me going back to the gym for the next 2 months.
Some minor elements of the slow-make-over… I’m trying harder to upgrade my wardrobe. Last winter, I sprung for a new suit… which was a big step for me, actually. The first suit I ever got was the one my parents bought for my Senior Pictures in High School. Which I ended up also using for my Senior Pictures in College… and several other instances in between and after. I also got some hand-me-downs from relatives and whatnot… but no matter how often they said, “Wow, it looks like it was *made* for you…” I knew it wasn’t. It wasn’t *my* suit. None of them were. So this… in a very real sense… is my first suit. (I also picked up a navy blazer with it. Thank you, Men’s Wearhouse.)
Fashion-wise… my tastes are fairly simple. Most of my dress shirts and even t-shirts, are solid colors. I’m not big on patterns… but I’m trying to keep an eye out for striped shirts that I think look good. Again, though… it needs to be a simple pattern for me. Not 17 stripes of different shades of the same color… that’s too noisy for me. Even if they look good on me… I don’t like it. Pants… I like khakis mainly, but I’ll only wear my black slacks for work or something.
One of the qualities I’d really like to find in my next relationship is someone with a good sense of style. Someone that I can go shopping with and will do well with helping me to look nice. (Yes, I’m a man that doesn’t mind going shopping.) With my last relationship, we didn’t do that very often… I would have liked to, but not having a lot of money to do that with puts a damper on it. (The curse of the starving artist) She did help me pick out my first leather jacket… which I never wore that often, actually. I think the reminder of her (this was *that* relationship) dissuaded me from wanting to wear it… but thankfully, it doesn’t bother me that much anymore. (Which is good… because it’s coming up on the not-so-happy anniversary. Yes, I hate the fact that I still remember that.) So, these days I’m trying to wear it more often.
Now, I’ve tried to go through a few “make-overs” over the years… and oddly enough, usually whenever I did try to have a make-over… or at least make some “change” to myself that was noticeable to others… I found I got noticed by the opposite sex a lot more than usual, and sometimes would end up in a relationship within a couple of months. After I shaved my head (for a show) and sported the “bald” look for a while, I found several instances of being noticed. Same thing after I started dyeing my hair blonde and returned to school after working out for a summer. Maybe it was the confidence of feeling like a new person that showed through… or the drastic change that caught their attention… or maybe a bit of both. Who knows?
This certainly didn’t happen ALL the time… in fact, only a few relationships started after a make-over. Most of the time it was just little ole me from start to finish.
But the thing that I’ve noticed about make-overs… they’re not permanent. We think of them as potentially life-changing kinds of things… but after a period of time, we do fall back into old habits. At best, make-overs tend to be “temporary ego-boosters”… which can be a good thing. Many of us need more self-confidence more often. (I know I wouldn’t mind it) But the brief nature of them… can be a bit depressing.
Maybe that’s why I’m sticking to the “slow” make-over. Doing it slowly, over a longer period… trying to work on one element at a time, which will hopefully be healthier for me both physically and mentally. If it’s a choice between feeling FABULOUS about myself for a very short time… or feeling “pretty darn good” about myself for life. I’ll take the latter.
Sure, the changes will be subtle and gradual… so anyone that already knows me won’t overtly notice it right away. Plus, it’s a LOT harder to do it long-term… it’s easy to shave the head or dye the hair or get a new suit. But the hair grows in, the dye fades, and the suit won’t get worn all the time. But just maybe, while walking around on a normal day somewhere down the line, I’ll be able to catch the eye of someone new… someone that’s worth noticing, and who will find me to be noticeable, too.
At least now I’ll be able to see them… because I gots new glasses. :)
I just got a new pair of glasses, for one. The last time I had glasses was the pair that I lost when I was in Grad School… about 8 years ago. I never bothered to replace them, and have just used my contact lenses ever since. I had that particular pair for about 7 years by that point… and they just didn’t go well with my face, anyway. (Maybe they did at one point… but in growing, my face changed shape a little, and I just didn’t like the way they fit… so I wasn’t heartbroken or even slightly stressed when they got misplaced)
I had shopped around a couple months ago, toying with the idea of going with glasses again (because putting in the contacts everyday can be annoying)… but the store I went into had the salesman wanting me to try on “all the latest styles”. I asked for a particular shape of frames, and he just told me how they “don’t really have any in that shape… they’re not in style. But these look good on you!” Yeah, thanks Sparky. But this isn’t a t-shirt or a funky pair of jeans… these are significantly more expensive… and are meant to last upwards of a few years, at the very least. So the LAST thing I want is the “latest style”… which will look very stupid as soon as the NEXT style is “in”. I want something that’s going to look good on ME… and compliment my face, no matter what the latest “style” is. No matter how often I said, “I don’t care what the latest style is”, he kept saying it. I eventually left, making it clear I wasn’t buying anything from him. Screw his commission. Maybe he should try actual customer service.
Then, a little over a week ago, I got a notice at work… I’ve been paying into a “flex medical spending” account all year. (If you buy anything vaguely medical… you can get reimbursed from this fund, as you’ve already paid for it. Mainly a handy way to keep some money aside for random medical stuff that comes up.) Apparently, if I don’t use up what’s in there before the end of the year… I completely lose it. So, I could just buy a bunch of cough syrup in December… but then I figured this is a good time to get those new eyeglasses.
So, I put the call out to some female friends and relatives… looking for anyone in the area who’s available to help me pick out a pair, or give suggestions. A female friend did say that she thought I’d look “delicious in glasses”… which was nice encouragement. One of my cousins said she was available, and recommended a store that she always had good luck with. I also got suggestions from my gay friends. (Because that’s who I trust for fashion advice… women and gay men. It seems to work.) I was told to look for “round, frameless lenses”… as they would compliment the shape of my face (which can look a little “blocky”), and be subtle enough to let my face be seen and not distracted.
That part actually fits my personal tastes. I don’t want something that says, “LOOK I’M WEARING GLASSES”. It’s like my shirts… I don’t do a lot of printed t-shirts with logos or funny sayings on them. I’d rather have people look at me and see *me*… not some clever art or gag that someone else wrote.
I think I did well with the glasses I picked out. They are frameless… and roundish (if not perfectly round). Not many people seem to notice them at first… but some eventually said, “Did you wear glasses before?” Yeah, I think that means they’re subtle enough.
The other big makeover element… is that I’ve been hitting the gym. Now, I don’t want to get to a point where I invalidate last year’s post about my fat days… but rather, I think this move compliments it. In the past, I had started working out after I was feeling particularly good about myself… this particular instance started a little differently.
I was at a friend’s house for his 8-year-old daughter’s birthday. I was there making animal balloons, juggling, etc… most of the stuff I used to do when I did children’s parties back West. Anyway… those kids tired me out WAY too quickly. And when I used to work with a Kid’s Theatre Group… I was helping to deal with 30+ kids every day for 5 days a week, for up to 6 weeks at a time. Now, one day for a few hours… I’m dead tired. Some pointed out, “Yeah, but you were in the Bounce-House… that will tire anyone out!” Which is true… maybe I shouldn’t feel so bad… but I still felt like I should have lasted longer than that. I so quickly got to the point of “over-exertion” that it seriously felt like something was wrong. So the next day, I went to the gym closest to my work, and signed up. (It helps that my work reimburses me for half the cost of the gym)
I do like this gym… much better than when I used to go to Schmally’s Total Fitness. Here, they tout it as a “judgment-free zone”. (Nice thought… but how do you control someone “thinking”?) They also have a trainer on-hand to help you out, almost all the time. When I joined Shmally’s… one of their bonuses was a “free hour with a personal trainer”, which was basically a one-hour advertisement to spend $1,000 to hire him. Wasn’t useful at all. Here, they actually sit down with you and create a personalized workout plan based on you and what your goals are. (My goals: “To have more energy, and to look good naked.” Hey, everyone’s thinking that… I just had the balls to say it.) That’s exactly what I need… a structured plan. If you just give me a bunch of machines and say “Go for it”… I’ll do a bunch of excercises, but I’ll end up missing a lot of key muscle groups, because I won’t know what I’m doing. They also gave me a little dietary advice, and they’re always willing to answer my questions whenever I ask. This is a much better place than Bally-… I mean, Schmally’s. (Don’t want to do any endorsements either way)
I started that program in mid-August. My goal was to hopefully see some decent results by Halloween. Figured 2 ½ months was a reasonable amount of time to do so. Well, since then, the bathroom scale has constantly said “205 lbs”… then again, my cat stepped across it the other day, and I could have sworn it said “205 lbs”… so I’m thinking I can’t exactly trust it. My arms have gotten a little bigger… and my legs are a little slimmer… yet I haven’t really noticed anything in the belly-area… the part I was mainly concerned about. But last week, when I went for a haircut… the girl that I go to asked me if I’ve lost weight, saying I look a little slimmer. That comment just ensured me going back to the gym for the next 2 months.
Some minor elements of the slow-make-over… I’m trying harder to upgrade my wardrobe. Last winter, I sprung for a new suit… which was a big step for me, actually. The first suit I ever got was the one my parents bought for my Senior Pictures in High School. Which I ended up also using for my Senior Pictures in College… and several other instances in between and after. I also got some hand-me-downs from relatives and whatnot… but no matter how often they said, “Wow, it looks like it was *made* for you…” I knew it wasn’t. It wasn’t *my* suit. None of them were. So this… in a very real sense… is my first suit. (I also picked up a navy blazer with it. Thank you, Men’s Wearhouse.)
Fashion-wise… my tastes are fairly simple. Most of my dress shirts and even t-shirts, are solid colors. I’m not big on patterns… but I’m trying to keep an eye out for striped shirts that I think look good. Again, though… it needs to be a simple pattern for me. Not 17 stripes of different shades of the same color… that’s too noisy for me. Even if they look good on me… I don’t like it. Pants… I like khakis mainly, but I’ll only wear my black slacks for work or something.
One of the qualities I’d really like to find in my next relationship is someone with a good sense of style. Someone that I can go shopping with and will do well with helping me to look nice. (Yes, I’m a man that doesn’t mind going shopping.) With my last relationship, we didn’t do that very often… I would have liked to, but not having a lot of money to do that with puts a damper on it. (The curse of the starving artist) She did help me pick out my first leather jacket… which I never wore that often, actually. I think the reminder of her (this was *that* relationship) dissuaded me from wanting to wear it… but thankfully, it doesn’t bother me that much anymore. (Which is good… because it’s coming up on the not-so-happy anniversary. Yes, I hate the fact that I still remember that.) So, these days I’m trying to wear it more often.
Now, I’ve tried to go through a few “make-overs” over the years… and oddly enough, usually whenever I did try to have a make-over… or at least make some “change” to myself that was noticeable to others… I found I got noticed by the opposite sex a lot more than usual, and sometimes would end up in a relationship within a couple of months. After I shaved my head (for a show) and sported the “bald” look for a while, I found several instances of being noticed. Same thing after I started dyeing my hair blonde and returned to school after working out for a summer. Maybe it was the confidence of feeling like a new person that showed through… or the drastic change that caught their attention… or maybe a bit of both. Who knows?
This certainly didn’t happen ALL the time… in fact, only a few relationships started after a make-over. Most of the time it was just little ole me from start to finish.
But the thing that I’ve noticed about make-overs… they’re not permanent. We think of them as potentially life-changing kinds of things… but after a period of time, we do fall back into old habits. At best, make-overs tend to be “temporary ego-boosters”… which can be a good thing. Many of us need more self-confidence more often. (I know I wouldn’t mind it) But the brief nature of them… can be a bit depressing.
Maybe that’s why I’m sticking to the “slow” make-over. Doing it slowly, over a longer period… trying to work on one element at a time, which will hopefully be healthier for me both physically and mentally. If it’s a choice between feeling FABULOUS about myself for a very short time… or feeling “pretty darn good” about myself for life. I’ll take the latter.
Sure, the changes will be subtle and gradual… so anyone that already knows me won’t overtly notice it right away. Plus, it’s a LOT harder to do it long-term… it’s easy to shave the head or dye the hair or get a new suit. But the hair grows in, the dye fades, and the suit won’t get worn all the time. But just maybe, while walking around on a normal day somewhere down the line, I’ll be able to catch the eye of someone new… someone that’s worth noticing, and who will find me to be noticeable, too.
At least now I’ll be able to see them… because I gots new glasses. :)
10.03.2008
Awesome Autumn
Ah, October… this really is my favorite time of year.
Autumn is the best for me, hands down. And to me, the Fall begins in October. The Summer ends on the 31st of August… and September was always that weird limbo-month when school started. But it’s officially Fall when October hits.
When I was living on the West Coast… this was always the time of year that I missed New England the most. From October 1st to Thanksgiving… if I ever got “homesick” it was then. (After that, it got too freaking cold. I’d spend a week back home for Christmas, get my fill of snow in that time… and most of the rest of the year can be nicely experienced in the fairly tepid temperatures of the Pacific Time Zone.) Northern California had *some* similarities to New England… mostly in the Geography (at least the area I was in), but you still didn’t have the color changes of the leaves. Up there it was almost all Evergreen trees… which were pretty on their own, but you couldn’t tell if it was the Dog Days of Summer or early February just by looking around.
In fact, the changing of the leaves is what really signifies Autumn. The colors of Fall are yellow, red and orange… and you get the best color-changes here in New England. You even get people from out-of-state that make trips solely to see the leaves change color. Personally, I think that’s a *tad* on the extreme side. It’s all great to look at when you’re on your way to see or do something else… as part of the journey… but as the destination? That just seems… a little boring. If you’re only reason to come to New England right now is to watch leaves die and fall off their branch… you *really* need better hobbies. We do have a few amusement parks, and other things worth looking at, you know… not just rotting plant life. (Which is essentially what it is)
But still, whatever floats your boat, I guess. Though it actually is a bit on the appropriate side to go out of your way to see death and decay… because October is also the time of Halloween!
Yeah, I admit… that’s probably my biggest reason for loving Autumn. It’s the closest thing that I have to a true “religious holiday”. (In fact, I *am* taking that day off work this year.) Sure, my first Halloween back here wasn’t the greatest, as I mentioned last year, but I’ll always be hopeful. In fact, I *am* planning to give Salem another shot this year… so we’ll see if it goes any better than last time.
But even if it’s too commercial or “sell-out”… New England is still THE place to be for the Halloween season.
Face it, New England INVENTED freaking Halloween!
(Okay that statement is 75% mistaken… and the other 25 is a flat-out lie… but hopefully you know what I mean…)
You wanna know why Halloween in New England is the best? Because living around here… is like living in an actual horror film.
There’s a damn good reason that Steven King and H.P. Lovecraft set 95% of their stories in this region. Because it can get pretty damn creepy… and that’s WITHOUT specialized decorations or any effort at all.
Looking at the history of the United States (as an entity)… this is the oldest part of it. Yes, I know that the Native Americans were all over the place long before that… but this is where the silly Europeans first landed… and brought with them all the superstitions and religious fire-and-brimstone stuff that scared the piss out of them in the first place. The native tribes looked at us like we were slack-jawed “furr-en-ers” and decided not to clue us in on what we should and shouldn’t really be afraid of in nature. (So, we ended up getting some of the ideas flipped)
But silly ideas and superstitions are what made for good atmosphere… so we had witches and spooky nights almost from the get-go. So now New England has atmosphere in spades, moreso then probably any other area of the country… and I eat it up like a kid’s sugar-laden loot after a hefty trick-or-treating haul!
Speaking of which, the art of trick-or-treating seems to have declined. I consider them sad, almost tragic, stories when I hear of houses that “didn’t get many kids this year”… or in some cases, none at all.
The last time I went trick-or-treating was actually in Graduate School. I went with a bunch of friends in my Improv Group… we dressed up, grabbed pillow cases for sacks, and headed into the suburban neighborhoods and went trick-or-treating. The fact that we were all in our 20s (I was the oldest at 25) notwithstanding… we wanted our candy! (and the people were fine about giving it to us) I didn’t even care much about the candy, and I think I just threw a lot of it away in the end… but the experience of it was so much fun. It was a nice substitute for not being in New England that year.
Halloween is such an “overall” experience for me… I can’t just be satisfied with a one-night thing… it’s a full month-long celebration!
Every movie I see… I want it to be a horror film. I especially love the old ones… the black and white ones. They just help give me the “feeling” of Halloween so much more. And I’m not into the blood and gore (which I’ve talked about before), but the actual scary stuff. It’s annoying when studios make horror films and release them in August and September… but *rarely* in October. *That’s* when I want to see them! Not in the summer, or limbo-month! At Halloween! November? Why bother??
The books I read… have to be scary stories. I break out my scary story anthologies, and read them with the biggest smile on my face.
TV… I always try to catch the “Halloween Specials” that my favorite shows inevitably have. And thanks to DVD, I can watch them at MY schedule. It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown is always required viewing (I have to see that, or it’s guaranteed to be a bad Halloween that year)… if I watch The Muppet Show, I watch the episodes with Vincent Price or Alice Cooper. I always wanted The Simpsons Halloween Special to be a part of that tradition… but they always show the newest one AFTER Halloween. Like the November Horror movies… why even bother?
You see… for me, Halloween is a bit like male sexuality. It works best with a slow build-up… almost teasing. Gradually getting more and more intense and fun all the way up to the pinnacle, the climax… the coup-de-gras… Halloween night! And once that’s over… my interest COMPLETELY falls off. (A bit of an uncouth comparison… but an accurate one all the same)
Yep, as soon as it hits the morning of November 1st… I am finished with Halloween for the year. I don’t have much interest in eating Halloween candy… I’ve had my fill of horror movies for awhile… if I’m thinking of it, I *might* go to the store and get some discounted stuff to prepare for next year (but I rarely remember)… and all I care about is cleaning up and putting my attention to the upcoming Thanksgiving/Christmas holiday. (Basically going from one extreme to the next) Sure we can hang around a little and talk about how much fun we had… but when the calendar changes… I’m looking forward to what’s next.
As much as I love Halloween and horror… it isn’t my life. (Some may argue this) I just enjoy the season of “my” holiday, and like to get the most out of it. And that usually tides me over quite nicely until next year.
But for now… it’s only the beginning of October… and I’ve got lots of plans for the next few weeks. :)
Huzzah!
Autumn is the best for me, hands down. And to me, the Fall begins in October. The Summer ends on the 31st of August… and September was always that weird limbo-month when school started. But it’s officially Fall when October hits.
When I was living on the West Coast… this was always the time of year that I missed New England the most. From October 1st to Thanksgiving… if I ever got “homesick” it was then. (After that, it got too freaking cold. I’d spend a week back home for Christmas, get my fill of snow in that time… and most of the rest of the year can be nicely experienced in the fairly tepid temperatures of the Pacific Time Zone.) Northern California had *some* similarities to New England… mostly in the Geography (at least the area I was in), but you still didn’t have the color changes of the leaves. Up there it was almost all Evergreen trees… which were pretty on their own, but you couldn’t tell if it was the Dog Days of Summer or early February just by looking around.
In fact, the changing of the leaves is what really signifies Autumn. The colors of Fall are yellow, red and orange… and you get the best color-changes here in New England. You even get people from out-of-state that make trips solely to see the leaves change color. Personally, I think that’s a *tad* on the extreme side. It’s all great to look at when you’re on your way to see or do something else… as part of the journey… but as the destination? That just seems… a little boring. If you’re only reason to come to New England right now is to watch leaves die and fall off their branch… you *really* need better hobbies. We do have a few amusement parks, and other things worth looking at, you know… not just rotting plant life. (Which is essentially what it is)
But still, whatever floats your boat, I guess. Though it actually is a bit on the appropriate side to go out of your way to see death and decay… because October is also the time of Halloween!
Yeah, I admit… that’s probably my biggest reason for loving Autumn. It’s the closest thing that I have to a true “religious holiday”. (In fact, I *am* taking that day off work this year.) Sure, my first Halloween back here wasn’t the greatest, as I mentioned last year, but I’ll always be hopeful. In fact, I *am* planning to give Salem another shot this year… so we’ll see if it goes any better than last time.
But even if it’s too commercial or “sell-out”… New England is still THE place to be for the Halloween season.
Face it, New England INVENTED freaking Halloween!
(Okay that statement is 75% mistaken… and the other 25 is a flat-out lie… but hopefully you know what I mean…)
You wanna know why Halloween in New England is the best? Because living around here… is like living in an actual horror film.
There’s a damn good reason that Steven King and H.P. Lovecraft set 95% of their stories in this region. Because it can get pretty damn creepy… and that’s WITHOUT specialized decorations or any effort at all.
Looking at the history of the United States (as an entity)… this is the oldest part of it. Yes, I know that the Native Americans were all over the place long before that… but this is where the silly Europeans first landed… and brought with them all the superstitions and religious fire-and-brimstone stuff that scared the piss out of them in the first place. The native tribes looked at us like we were slack-jawed “furr-en-ers” and decided not to clue us in on what we should and shouldn’t really be afraid of in nature. (So, we ended up getting some of the ideas flipped)
But silly ideas and superstitions are what made for good atmosphere… so we had witches and spooky nights almost from the get-go. So now New England has atmosphere in spades, moreso then probably any other area of the country… and I eat it up like a kid’s sugar-laden loot after a hefty trick-or-treating haul!
Speaking of which, the art of trick-or-treating seems to have declined. I consider them sad, almost tragic, stories when I hear of houses that “didn’t get many kids this year”… or in some cases, none at all.
The last time I went trick-or-treating was actually in Graduate School. I went with a bunch of friends in my Improv Group… we dressed up, grabbed pillow cases for sacks, and headed into the suburban neighborhoods and went trick-or-treating. The fact that we were all in our 20s (I was the oldest at 25) notwithstanding… we wanted our candy! (and the people were fine about giving it to us) I didn’t even care much about the candy, and I think I just threw a lot of it away in the end… but the experience of it was so much fun. It was a nice substitute for not being in New England that year.
Halloween is such an “overall” experience for me… I can’t just be satisfied with a one-night thing… it’s a full month-long celebration!
Every movie I see… I want it to be a horror film. I especially love the old ones… the black and white ones. They just help give me the “feeling” of Halloween so much more. And I’m not into the blood and gore (which I’ve talked about before), but the actual scary stuff. It’s annoying when studios make horror films and release them in August and September… but *rarely* in October. *That’s* when I want to see them! Not in the summer, or limbo-month! At Halloween! November? Why bother??
The books I read… have to be scary stories. I break out my scary story anthologies, and read them with the biggest smile on my face.
TV… I always try to catch the “Halloween Specials” that my favorite shows inevitably have. And thanks to DVD, I can watch them at MY schedule. It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown is always required viewing (I have to see that, or it’s guaranteed to be a bad Halloween that year)… if I watch The Muppet Show, I watch the episodes with Vincent Price or Alice Cooper. I always wanted The Simpsons Halloween Special to be a part of that tradition… but they always show the newest one AFTER Halloween. Like the November Horror movies… why even bother?
You see… for me, Halloween is a bit like male sexuality. It works best with a slow build-up… almost teasing. Gradually getting more and more intense and fun all the way up to the pinnacle, the climax… the coup-de-gras… Halloween night! And once that’s over… my interest COMPLETELY falls off. (A bit of an uncouth comparison… but an accurate one all the same)
Yep, as soon as it hits the morning of November 1st… I am finished with Halloween for the year. I don’t have much interest in eating Halloween candy… I’ve had my fill of horror movies for awhile… if I’m thinking of it, I *might* go to the store and get some discounted stuff to prepare for next year (but I rarely remember)… and all I care about is cleaning up and putting my attention to the upcoming Thanksgiving/Christmas holiday. (Basically going from one extreme to the next) Sure we can hang around a little and talk about how much fun we had… but when the calendar changes… I’m looking forward to what’s next.
As much as I love Halloween and horror… it isn’t my life. (Some may argue this) I just enjoy the season of “my” holiday, and like to get the most out of it. And that usually tides me over quite nicely until next year.
But for now… it’s only the beginning of October… and I’ve got lots of plans for the next few weeks. :)
Huzzah!
9.26.2008
Secret for Secret...
My love of the website PostSecret… ironically, is not a secret.
I last wrote about it almost a year ago… about the first postcard I sent in. Since writing that, I’ve made more postcards (like I said I would) and sent them in. Probably about 5 or 6 more. It *did* get easier to send those in. Some, I just wrote simply on the postcard, others I tried drawing.
None of them were ever posted… but like I said before, if you send it in with the expectation of them appearing on the site, you’re doing it for the wrong reasons. The guy gets over 1,000 a week, and posts 25 of them. Odds aren’t in your favor.
But it’s the telling of the secret is the key. It’s entrusting it to a complete stranger… even potentially the world. Maybe even getting away from it. Giving the secret to someone else… because you don’t want it anymore.
Since last year, the site now has a presence on MySpace and Facebook, of which I also check every now and then (though not as often as the main site). These sites are mainly used as “what’s going on” with the site, and upcoming seminars/exhibits and whatnot… while the main site is solely for the weekly postcards, and nothing else.
Last Saturday, I was looking at the latest MySpace blog… and people have started posting their cell phone numbers in the comments section… for the purpose of letting strangers text-message secrets to them. The “instructions” just said to go to the latest one posted, and send it to that person. I thought that it could be dangerous… but honestly… I think the only people that READ the PostSecret MySpace blog… or the main site itself… are the kind of people that wouldn’t abuse it. Plus… you can always go back and remove your comment if you get too nervous.
I sent off a few of my own to some numbers that were posted. And a few minutes later:
I posted my own cell number.
Within 2 minutes… I got my first text-secret.
It… was a bit heavy. More so then I was expecting. It definitely showed me that this is an experience that isn’t F**king around.
But the trust it shows… to send that to *me*, and who the hell am I? It absolutely humbled me. Sorry, I won’t say what it is… because it *is* a secret. Entrusted to me, and I don’t tell secrets that aren’t mine to begin with. I took the secret so this person wouldn’t have to keep it. Hopefully, it helps them… they said it did.
Within the hour, I got several more. For the next 3 hours, until I went to sleep, I just lay on my bed, texting secrets back and forth to strangers from across the country… some told me their names, some asked for feedback. But I always exchanged a secret for a secret. I believe that’s part of the trust.
It felt… very intimate. Sharing some things that even people I’m close to don’t even know about me. I actually felt connected to so many people at once… it kinda feels like falling in Love. The trust I felt… the trust I gave… the vulnerability, seeing and feeling it… and especially NOT suffering embarrassment for it, or having it shoved back in your face.
I think I can honestly say… it was one of the most Beautiful experiences I’ve ever had. And you know I don’t take the word “Beautiful” lightly.
I was still texting a few people the next morning… continuing conversations. Now, I don’t have unlimited texts… but frankly, I don’t care. I’ll pay the extra fees… this experience was too wonderful to not continue as long as I could. I even got some new people texting me… even though there were more recent numbers posted after mine.
I wanted this to continue… I wanted to do something more.
So, I wrote out several secrets of mine… and when I went to the gym for my daily masochism/work-out… I placed them all around. (I don’t think anyone saw me) Didn’t put them in obvious places… but hopefully places where they would be found. I did notice a few people actually saw them… fewer actually picked them up to read them. But I don’t think anyone threw them away… at least when I was there. But the next day they were gone. So… I put out a few more. I’d like to think that someone was picking them up and keeping them… and not tossing them in the trash, but who knows? Maybe the gym isn’t the most empathetic place to hide secrets at… but the place does advertise itself as a “judgment free-zone”… so that makes it sound kind of appropriate. It’d be hypocritical if they frowned on my behavior… don’t you think?
Hiding those secrets… was fun. And a bit cathartic. Because like the texting and sending in the postcards… it’s a way to get away from the secret. To get rid of it, in a sense (though not really).
This whole past week has been filled with PostSecret for me. I discovered that there’s going to be a “PostSecret Event”… basically a seminar and exhibit, given by the founder, and it’s coming fairly close. By “fairly close”, I mean about 3 hours away. But it’s the closest the tour has come to me yet… about 7 months ago, another was scheduled that was closer… but it got cancelled a few days before it happened, much to my chagrin… so I’m not skipping *this* opportunity. I’m taking a half-day at work, and driving up for that evening. Sure, coming back so late will suck… but I think it will be worth it.
And I’m sure I’ll do another update when that comes up in a few weeks. Count on it.
I last wrote about it almost a year ago… about the first postcard I sent in. Since writing that, I’ve made more postcards (like I said I would) and sent them in. Probably about 5 or 6 more. It *did* get easier to send those in. Some, I just wrote simply on the postcard, others I tried drawing.
None of them were ever posted… but like I said before, if you send it in with the expectation of them appearing on the site, you’re doing it for the wrong reasons. The guy gets over 1,000 a week, and posts 25 of them. Odds aren’t in your favor.
But it’s the telling of the secret is the key. It’s entrusting it to a complete stranger… even potentially the world. Maybe even getting away from it. Giving the secret to someone else… because you don’t want it anymore.
Since last year, the site now has a presence on MySpace and Facebook, of which I also check every now and then (though not as often as the main site). These sites are mainly used as “what’s going on” with the site, and upcoming seminars/exhibits and whatnot… while the main site is solely for the weekly postcards, and nothing else.
Last Saturday, I was looking at the latest MySpace blog… and people have started posting their cell phone numbers in the comments section… for the purpose of letting strangers text-message secrets to them. The “instructions” just said to go to the latest one posted, and send it to that person. I thought that it could be dangerous… but honestly… I think the only people that READ the PostSecret MySpace blog… or the main site itself… are the kind of people that wouldn’t abuse it. Plus… you can always go back and remove your comment if you get too nervous.
I sent off a few of my own to some numbers that were posted. And a few minutes later:
I posted my own cell number.
Within 2 minutes… I got my first text-secret.
It… was a bit heavy. More so then I was expecting. It definitely showed me that this is an experience that isn’t F**king around.
But the trust it shows… to send that to *me*, and who the hell am I? It absolutely humbled me. Sorry, I won’t say what it is… because it *is* a secret. Entrusted to me, and I don’t tell secrets that aren’t mine to begin with. I took the secret so this person wouldn’t have to keep it. Hopefully, it helps them… they said it did.
Within the hour, I got several more. For the next 3 hours, until I went to sleep, I just lay on my bed, texting secrets back and forth to strangers from across the country… some told me their names, some asked for feedback. But I always exchanged a secret for a secret. I believe that’s part of the trust.
It felt… very intimate. Sharing some things that even people I’m close to don’t even know about me. I actually felt connected to so many people at once… it kinda feels like falling in Love. The trust I felt… the trust I gave… the vulnerability, seeing and feeling it… and especially NOT suffering embarrassment for it, or having it shoved back in your face.
I think I can honestly say… it was one of the most Beautiful experiences I’ve ever had. And you know I don’t take the word “Beautiful” lightly.
I was still texting a few people the next morning… continuing conversations. Now, I don’t have unlimited texts… but frankly, I don’t care. I’ll pay the extra fees… this experience was too wonderful to not continue as long as I could. I even got some new people texting me… even though there were more recent numbers posted after mine.
I wanted this to continue… I wanted to do something more.
So, I wrote out several secrets of mine… and when I went to the gym for my daily masochism/work-out… I placed them all around. (I don’t think anyone saw me) Didn’t put them in obvious places… but hopefully places where they would be found. I did notice a few people actually saw them… fewer actually picked them up to read them. But I don’t think anyone threw them away… at least when I was there. But the next day they were gone. So… I put out a few more. I’d like to think that someone was picking them up and keeping them… and not tossing them in the trash, but who knows? Maybe the gym isn’t the most empathetic place to hide secrets at… but the place does advertise itself as a “judgment free-zone”… so that makes it sound kind of appropriate. It’d be hypocritical if they frowned on my behavior… don’t you think?
Hiding those secrets… was fun. And a bit cathartic. Because like the texting and sending in the postcards… it’s a way to get away from the secret. To get rid of it, in a sense (though not really).
This whole past week has been filled with PostSecret for me. I discovered that there’s going to be a “PostSecret Event”… basically a seminar and exhibit, given by the founder, and it’s coming fairly close. By “fairly close”, I mean about 3 hours away. But it’s the closest the tour has come to me yet… about 7 months ago, another was scheduled that was closer… but it got cancelled a few days before it happened, much to my chagrin… so I’m not skipping *this* opportunity. I’m taking a half-day at work, and driving up for that evening. Sure, coming back so late will suck… but I think it will be worth it.
And I’m sure I’ll do another update when that comes up in a few weeks. Count on it.
9.19.2008
Nobody knows…. How Dry I Am… (sing if you know it!)
I don’t drink.
Now, to answer the questions I’m most often asked, from the start:
No, I’m not a recovering alcoholic… no, I’m not Mormon, or otherwise religious in any way… and no, I’m not allergic to it.
I just don’t drink. In fact, I’ve *never* been drunk.
Whenever someone asks me, “Why?”… I usually say something like, “It’s just something I never got into”, and leave it at that. Admittedly, this isn’t much of an answer. Almost sounds like I never had the access to alcohol, or was never in a situation where it was available, and just grew up feeling that’s the norm.
Oh please… I’m not, nor ever have been, THAT sheltered. I did not spend my childhood in a Sense-Dep Tank… and while my High School socialization may have been limited, it wasn’t like I didn’t have a clue where to find alcohol. Access and opportunity were not lacking in my world.
There are several reasons why I don’t drink… though if I had to pick ONE as the root of it all… the answer is simple; My dad.
Now, my dad is not an alcoholic… as one might think when I mention him as a reason. No, he never let the bottle affect work, or the normal day-to-day functioning of his life… he was just a blue-collar shmoe that liked his beer, like most people. He’d have one, maybe two in the evening after work… and when he had a day off, he’d have… more than that. If you look at all the instances or him pissing me off, upsetting me, or (when I was young) flat-out scaring me and making me feel horrible and stupid… let’s just say it’s no coincidence that those stories almost invariably begin with the words, “Dad had a few too many beers that day…”
Combine that with an already short temper, a wavering idea of personal space, and a stubbornness that borders on self-delusion… No, he’s not an alcoholic… just a complete obnoxious asshole when he *is* drunk.
Some people fall into similar patterns of libation-consumption that they witnessed growing up… Some people rebel, and go the opposite way… only to eventually end up in those same patterns… some learn actual moderation and end those patterns in a responsible way. Me: I just rebelled 100%, and never stopped.
Now a lot of people have looked at my personality and lovingly tell me I’d be a “happy drunk”, and how I most likely wouldn’t be an asshole. But you know… after years of the kind of aforementioned stories, and hearing some of the most horrible, hateful, insulting things spoken (or “yelled” would be more accurate) while under that influence… I really don’t think that’s something I care to even take a chance on. Nah, I’m all set on that.
Even on a practical level… I hate the taste. We can also attribute that to my dad. When I was a little kid, Dad would let my brothers and I have little sips of his beer. For me, I would then go about a year or so before I thought “I forgot what that tastes likes”, and ask Dad for another sip, which he’d oblige. THEN I’d remember why I went a year plus without trying it. Henceforth, it always confused me when people told me how beer was an “acquired taste”… because if you put something disgusting in your mouth… what on earth would give you the bright idea to do it AGAIN??? Jeez… little babies figure this stuff out.
Though what may be a missing piece in that story is the *brand* of beer my Dad drinks. Apparently, my “hate-the-taste” position makes sense to some people when they hear it, as it seems that brand is universally referred to as the “rat-piss” of the beer drinking world. I probably shouldn’t mention the name… but I will say that it rhymes with “Shmold Shmilwaukee”. (And if that’s a proud export of Wisconsin… they should stick to the cheese.)
Now, I’d be lying if I said I’ve NEVER had a drink (since being legal). My first one was a “Suffering Bastard”. I specifically wanted that to be my first… solely because of the name. (It seemed like it fit.) I finished maybe a quarter of it… IF that. Another time, I had a Zombie. Again… for the name (Cause zombies are cool), and still only finished a fraction of it.
I did try wine a few times… and wine was actually something I would have liked to know more about. It just seems like a very “James Bond” kind of thing to know… the years of vintage, the regions it comes from, and how to accompany it with crackers and cheese to help bring out the subtlety of the flavors. You’re not even supposed to get drunk on wine, it’s supposed to be a sipping/tasting experience. If you want to get drunk, you drink whiskey or vodka or something of that ilk… not wine. If you’re drinking wine with the intention of getting drunk… I think you’re doing something wrong. Wine is about the actual flavor… of which the few times I tried, I didn’t really like. I was given half a glass one time, and I nursed it for about 3 hours… and by that point, I’d only finished maybe a quarter of what was poured (so not even 1/8 of a glass). I wasn’t so much “drinking” it… as I was “letting it evaporate.”
I think the taste of the alcohol itself is just kind of repulsive to me. And since I’m not used to the taste of it… when it does exist in my glass, it’s pretty obvious. I’ve taken a drink of punch before, to find it had been spiked. I then found out it was *very lightly* spiked, and that no one else had been able to taste it… but I did. *shrug* I’ve been told several times that I “just need to find something I’d like”… and I’ve had many offers to “help” me with that. I don’t know… maybe there IS something out there I’d like. But I don’t think I have any interest in finding it. (And if you want to “help”… Worse have tried… and Better have failed.)
Even though, I seem to find a lot of disadvantages to not drinking. That seems like an odd statement, I know. Most people can immediately think of several reasons why it’s good to NOT drink (even though they are drinking themselves)… “It’s healthier”, “saves a lot of money”, “you’ll never do anything you regret”, blah blah blah.
Yeah, that’s what they SAY. But I think the subconscious says something different.
Alcohol is very much a social lubricant. It lowers inhibitions and gets strangers talking, opening up a myriad of possibilities both bad and good. We walk around with our guard up all day, and to relax we want to let that guard down… and most people don’t consider the bad possibilities 100% of the time (otherwise, they’d NEVER let their guard down). Always keeping your wits about you… can be hard work and stressful on its own, so who wants to constantly worry about that? It’s nice to feel you can let that responsibility go… which alcohol can do, artificially.
Me… I’ve always got that guard up. Now, from my point of view… it’s a little tough having an intelligent conversation with someone who’s visibly inebriated. For them, I can only imagine what they’d be thinking… anything from “What a stick-in-the-mud, he’s no fun” to “I’m vulnerable and he’s not… oh my, this is uncomfortable” to “I’m engaging in a horrible vice and therefore, he must think he’s so much better than me, the bastard”, etc. Sure, they “say” it’s good I don’t drink… but they talk more/flirt more/get-to-know the other people that ARE drinking. (I *do* meet people who drink that are 100% a-okay with it and really don’t care that I’m a teetotaler... but it’s rarer than you think.)
In all honesty… I don’t care if other people drink. My “no drinking” policy is only for me and me alone. I hold NO one else to those standards. I think some of my past relationships felt a little awkward with it… being in a situation where they wanted to have a drink, but knowing that I wasn’t. Whether they felt pressured by my presence to not drink, or didn’t want to “leave me out”, I don’t know. But I want my friends to have a good time… and if that entails knocking back a few… go for it. I will never tell someone they *shouldn’t* do that. It’s our inalienable right to do whatever you want to yourself… that’s the beauty of America. If you’re my friend… especially if I’m dating you… then I’m accepting flaws, vices and all. If I’m THAT opposed to something you practice/engage in… I’ll leave or just won’t get involved in the first place. (In which case it really is an honest-to-goodness “it’s not you, it’s me” situation. I don’t like the idea of asking anybody to change for me… as I don’t think I have the right.)
Yeah, there are times I do feel a little “left out”. I wonder if it would be nice to get vulnerable like that. Hell, maybe I’d have had a lot more sex in life if I did… (but I think I’d rather have sex that I *remember*… and not have to regret later)
I think it’s a trade-off.
I’ll gladly be the designated driver. Sure, maybe I’ll be a bit bored while sitting around and people-watching drunk strangers… but if I know my friends are having a good time, that’s okay by me. As long as I have my wits about me… as long as I have control over myself, I have control over the situation. There are a lot of bad possibilities that *can* happen. At least I can make sure that those things don’t happen to my friends. If you get drunk-sick, I’ll hold your head over the toilet… and when you have the hangover, I’ll bring you the vitamin B and water.
Call it another part of my inner Superhero complex. If you’re with me… you’re getting home safe… I guarantee it.
I’ve seen some people at their absolute worst while drunk… alcohol combined with medication (or even alcohol withOUT medication that they should have been on), borderline alcohol poisoning, falling off the wagon, getting violent and even acting downright stalkerish while under the influence.
I’ve also seen people become scared for their own safety, and the safety of those they love… deathly afraid that they are going to be hurt or scarred forever from someone who was drunk and not in control of themselves. I’ve seen too many tears and have heard of far too many stories of good friends turned into victims and statistics.
Since there’s almost nothing that pisses me off more than that, I say this with as much passion, rage and utmost seriousness that I can muster:
THAT WILL **NOT** HAPPEN ON MY WATCH!
(God help whoever tries to F**K with me on this one.)
Now, to answer the questions I’m most often asked, from the start:
No, I’m not a recovering alcoholic… no, I’m not Mormon, or otherwise religious in any way… and no, I’m not allergic to it.
I just don’t drink. In fact, I’ve *never* been drunk.
Whenever someone asks me, “Why?”… I usually say something like, “It’s just something I never got into”, and leave it at that. Admittedly, this isn’t much of an answer. Almost sounds like I never had the access to alcohol, or was never in a situation where it was available, and just grew up feeling that’s the norm.
Oh please… I’m not, nor ever have been, THAT sheltered. I did not spend my childhood in a Sense-Dep Tank… and while my High School socialization may have been limited, it wasn’t like I didn’t have a clue where to find alcohol. Access and opportunity were not lacking in my world.
There are several reasons why I don’t drink… though if I had to pick ONE as the root of it all… the answer is simple; My dad.
Now, my dad is not an alcoholic… as one might think when I mention him as a reason. No, he never let the bottle affect work, or the normal day-to-day functioning of his life… he was just a blue-collar shmoe that liked his beer, like most people. He’d have one, maybe two in the evening after work… and when he had a day off, he’d have… more than that. If you look at all the instances or him pissing me off, upsetting me, or (when I was young) flat-out scaring me and making me feel horrible and stupid… let’s just say it’s no coincidence that those stories almost invariably begin with the words, “Dad had a few too many beers that day…”
Combine that with an already short temper, a wavering idea of personal space, and a stubbornness that borders on self-delusion… No, he’s not an alcoholic… just a complete obnoxious asshole when he *is* drunk.
Some people fall into similar patterns of libation-consumption that they witnessed growing up… Some people rebel, and go the opposite way… only to eventually end up in those same patterns… some learn actual moderation and end those patterns in a responsible way. Me: I just rebelled 100%, and never stopped.
Now a lot of people have looked at my personality and lovingly tell me I’d be a “happy drunk”, and how I most likely wouldn’t be an asshole. But you know… after years of the kind of aforementioned stories, and hearing some of the most horrible, hateful, insulting things spoken (or “yelled” would be more accurate) while under that influence… I really don’t think that’s something I care to even take a chance on. Nah, I’m all set on that.
Even on a practical level… I hate the taste. We can also attribute that to my dad. When I was a little kid, Dad would let my brothers and I have little sips of his beer. For me, I would then go about a year or so before I thought “I forgot what that tastes likes”, and ask Dad for another sip, which he’d oblige. THEN I’d remember why I went a year plus without trying it. Henceforth, it always confused me when people told me how beer was an “acquired taste”… because if you put something disgusting in your mouth… what on earth would give you the bright idea to do it AGAIN??? Jeez… little babies figure this stuff out.
Though what may be a missing piece in that story is the *brand* of beer my Dad drinks. Apparently, my “hate-the-taste” position makes sense to some people when they hear it, as it seems that brand is universally referred to as the “rat-piss” of the beer drinking world. I probably shouldn’t mention the name… but I will say that it rhymes with “Shmold Shmilwaukee”. (And if that’s a proud export of Wisconsin… they should stick to the cheese.)
Now, I’d be lying if I said I’ve NEVER had a drink (since being legal). My first one was a “Suffering Bastard”. I specifically wanted that to be my first… solely because of the name. (It seemed like it fit.) I finished maybe a quarter of it… IF that. Another time, I had a Zombie. Again… for the name (Cause zombies are cool), and still only finished a fraction of it.
I did try wine a few times… and wine was actually something I would have liked to know more about. It just seems like a very “James Bond” kind of thing to know… the years of vintage, the regions it comes from, and how to accompany it with crackers and cheese to help bring out the subtlety of the flavors. You’re not even supposed to get drunk on wine, it’s supposed to be a sipping/tasting experience. If you want to get drunk, you drink whiskey or vodka or something of that ilk… not wine. If you’re drinking wine with the intention of getting drunk… I think you’re doing something wrong. Wine is about the actual flavor… of which the few times I tried, I didn’t really like. I was given half a glass one time, and I nursed it for about 3 hours… and by that point, I’d only finished maybe a quarter of what was poured (so not even 1/8 of a glass). I wasn’t so much “drinking” it… as I was “letting it evaporate.”
I think the taste of the alcohol itself is just kind of repulsive to me. And since I’m not used to the taste of it… when it does exist in my glass, it’s pretty obvious. I’ve taken a drink of punch before, to find it had been spiked. I then found out it was *very lightly* spiked, and that no one else had been able to taste it… but I did. *shrug* I’ve been told several times that I “just need to find something I’d like”… and I’ve had many offers to “help” me with that. I don’t know… maybe there IS something out there I’d like. But I don’t think I have any interest in finding it. (And if you want to “help”… Worse have tried… and Better have failed.)
Even though, I seem to find a lot of disadvantages to not drinking. That seems like an odd statement, I know. Most people can immediately think of several reasons why it’s good to NOT drink (even though they are drinking themselves)… “It’s healthier”, “saves a lot of money”, “you’ll never do anything you regret”, blah blah blah.
Yeah, that’s what they SAY. But I think the subconscious says something different.
Alcohol is very much a social lubricant. It lowers inhibitions and gets strangers talking, opening up a myriad of possibilities both bad and good. We walk around with our guard up all day, and to relax we want to let that guard down… and most people don’t consider the bad possibilities 100% of the time (otherwise, they’d NEVER let their guard down). Always keeping your wits about you… can be hard work and stressful on its own, so who wants to constantly worry about that? It’s nice to feel you can let that responsibility go… which alcohol can do, artificially.
Me… I’ve always got that guard up. Now, from my point of view… it’s a little tough having an intelligent conversation with someone who’s visibly inebriated. For them, I can only imagine what they’d be thinking… anything from “What a stick-in-the-mud, he’s no fun” to “I’m vulnerable and he’s not… oh my, this is uncomfortable” to “I’m engaging in a horrible vice and therefore, he must think he’s so much better than me, the bastard”, etc. Sure, they “say” it’s good I don’t drink… but they talk more/flirt more/get-to-know the other people that ARE drinking. (I *do* meet people who drink that are 100% a-okay with it and really don’t care that I’m a teetotaler... but it’s rarer than you think.)
In all honesty… I don’t care if other people drink. My “no drinking” policy is only for me and me alone. I hold NO one else to those standards. I think some of my past relationships felt a little awkward with it… being in a situation where they wanted to have a drink, but knowing that I wasn’t. Whether they felt pressured by my presence to not drink, or didn’t want to “leave me out”, I don’t know. But I want my friends to have a good time… and if that entails knocking back a few… go for it. I will never tell someone they *shouldn’t* do that. It’s our inalienable right to do whatever you want to yourself… that’s the beauty of America. If you’re my friend… especially if I’m dating you… then I’m accepting flaws, vices and all. If I’m THAT opposed to something you practice/engage in… I’ll leave or just won’t get involved in the first place. (In which case it really is an honest-to-goodness “it’s not you, it’s me” situation. I don’t like the idea of asking anybody to change for me… as I don’t think I have the right.)
Yeah, there are times I do feel a little “left out”. I wonder if it would be nice to get vulnerable like that. Hell, maybe I’d have had a lot more sex in life if I did… (but I think I’d rather have sex that I *remember*… and not have to regret later)
I think it’s a trade-off.
I’ll gladly be the designated driver. Sure, maybe I’ll be a bit bored while sitting around and people-watching drunk strangers… but if I know my friends are having a good time, that’s okay by me. As long as I have my wits about me… as long as I have control over myself, I have control over the situation. There are a lot of bad possibilities that *can* happen. At least I can make sure that those things don’t happen to my friends. If you get drunk-sick, I’ll hold your head over the toilet… and when you have the hangover, I’ll bring you the vitamin B and water.
Call it another part of my inner Superhero complex. If you’re with me… you’re getting home safe… I guarantee it.
I’ve seen some people at their absolute worst while drunk… alcohol combined with medication (or even alcohol withOUT medication that they should have been on), borderline alcohol poisoning, falling off the wagon, getting violent and even acting downright stalkerish while under the influence.
I’ve also seen people become scared for their own safety, and the safety of those they love… deathly afraid that they are going to be hurt or scarred forever from someone who was drunk and not in control of themselves. I’ve seen too many tears and have heard of far too many stories of good friends turned into victims and statistics.
Since there’s almost nothing that pisses me off more than that, I say this with as much passion, rage and utmost seriousness that I can muster:
THAT WILL **NOT** HAPPEN ON MY WATCH!
(God help whoever tries to F**K with me on this one.)
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