Now this is a story all about how my life got flipped, turned upside down…

gahh that makes me happy singing along

For two minutes and fifty eight seconds I didn’t think about my gut wrenching, taunting me with a repeat of breakfast served a la half digested. Oh, but wait a second. I didn’t eat breakfast because I can’t stand the thought of food without my stomach performing somersaults. Its that can’t eat, can’t sleep, home run, world series kinda stuff.

There are few people in our lives that have the ability to get under our skin. One contributing factor is that we deem them worthy of such entry and thus allow them passage. Another factor, the one with all the enchantment, is that they have the unique print that unlocks the most sacred gates, the very gates we have be diligently fortifying since our first heart break. The idea that someone has a unique print that can unlock you and allow them to nestle in the most secret caverns, is kinda fucking unbelievable. Mostly, because they do it without you really knowing, sometimes they probably aren’t that aware of it.

Then one day after five months has passed and a certain tension arises between you and the ‘mystical unlocker’, and you double over at this most unusual pain in your gut when you think of the tension and think of a possible outcome of this tension and you say fuck you motherfucker. How on earth did you fucking do that you fucking alien sorcerer with all these fucking keys unlocking shit. Did I invite you in? Isn’t that a rule? Don’t I have to invite you in? What is this magic!

Now I will admit my imagination may at times get the better of me and convince me I am in a altered universe dressed in all black and fighting crime. However, I do consider myself a practical person, a realist, very aware of what is happening around me and in control of my faculties. So what is it about this happening that has gotten me doubled over, not eating, on the verge of shedding my third tear of all time? Am I reading too much Harry Potter, or am I really approaching the L word for the very first time. Shit!

Harry Potter, Iamqueer, love, The exception to the rule, the L word, Therapy, Uncategorized, What Keeps Me Up At Night

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December 2, 2010

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Now this is a story all about how my life got flipped, turned upside down…

Ladies and Gentlemen this is your captain speaking, we are now entering Northern Virginia airspace. You may take off your seat belts and relax, all harm is behind us now…

Why is it when I drive to work and I get to a certain point in my route, I feel as though I’ve just crossed a state line, but Guantanamo Bay style. With flashing lights and M16s pointed at me to ensure a thorough inspection into these most sacred and protected territories. I feel as though I have gone through this machine, sort of like a car wash except it sucks life, or individualism rather, instead of washing all the dirt away. I’m left just black and white; like in that movie pleasantville.

had to put this in…you know you like it

I find myself thinking every day, ‘If I see another beige Toyota Highlander I might crash into it. At least then it will look different with a decent sized dent in it.’

Sound Familiar? Well if you have the not so privilege privilege of living in this area, specifically Fairfax County (North Arlington, McLean, Vienna), then you know all about it. You may even be a part of this alien race. In which case excuse these lines because they are surely directed at you.

I’m not exactly sure how to paint this picture accurately, without being completely cliché. However, it is cliché, but with a very large twist. These people run our country! Hmmm, you know the opening scene of weeds season one through I think four?

That is almost exactly how it looks here. Except they drive Toyota highlanders in beige. They go to Starbucks. Their kids wear designer jeans. And did I mention they run our country?

This is where the real reality TV shows should be. Where all the Robert Hanssens live, or the people pretending to be Robert Hanssen which is even juicier because they get away with it. Where covert action goes down on a daily basis, in public! People here are either high as a kite on ‘mommy pills’, a part of these actions, too busy hating their over privileged lives, or like me the nosy one hiding behind a bush with my notebook looking very Harriet esque.

I could tirade for days about this. But I won’t. I have the strongest sense of foresight right now. It’s telling me ‘no’ ‘don’t’ ‘you will regret it’ So for just this once I will slap a filter on these fingertips…blah

Babysitter, Iamqueer, Northern Virginia, Parenting, The exception to the rule, Uncategorized

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November 4, 2010

7 Comments

A Moment

“A moment of force, according to our beloved Wikipedia is the tendency of a force to twist or rotate an object. This is an important, basic concept in engineering and physics.” In life, as in person to person situations, moments are nearly always associated with emotions. ‘I am having/or had a moment.’ ‘These are the moments that we live for.’ The moment before a first kiss, or any passionate kiss, a silent conversation often initiated by a look held for a second too long, or the way your arm grazes theirs. A green light to go 90 and hope they go 10.

Scenic Serenity is the far too tacky yet completely appropriate name of a fabulous vacation house situated on Deep Creek Lake in Garrett County, Maryland. Now, in this world of psychotic consumerism, where your mascara is housed in a fluorescent yellow bottle, your average at best vodka looks like it will literally make you feel like you just jumped a pay grade for drinking it and that it is actually a quality vodka, and your vehicle is affixed with names like Fiesta and Esteem because they know you like to party, but also would like to feel good about yourself; a name like Scenic Serenity may feel like another ploy to grab our attention and make us feel pretty. But is it?

D.H Lawrence, a fantastically creative poet/writer has a poem, The Wild Common, read it.

“Oh but the water loves me and folds me,
Plays with me, sways me, lifts me and sinks me as though it were living blood,
Blood of a heaving woman who holds me,
Owning my supple body a rare glad thing, supremely good.”

To rise to the dancing fall trees rolling down a mountain to kiss a gentle lake. To watch a ripple grow, and with each ring become louder, deafening as it pounds through your chest massaging your soul. To close your eyes and really feel your surroundings as they are. “Living blood, owning my supple body” This is a moment. “Rare, supremely good”

Is Serenity the right word? This place is seemingly peaceful, at a glance tranquil. But if it is a moment then surely it cannot be serene. “The tendency of a force to twist or rotate an object”, to move an object. Maybe then it is just a name given to a vacation house in order to grab your attention and pull you away from Deer Lodge. Which thinking about it now, who wouldn’t take scenic serenity over deer lodge. I mean come on.

Is a moment then like an opportunity? Does it flutter by taunting us to grab that net and catch that beautiful butterfly? No. A taunt is out loud, its in your face repeatedly, it requires acknowledgment outright. It is like an opportunity in that most people are deaf dumb and blind to them, however, it has a deeper feel to it. The power of force that is so mighty and great that it can own your body and make you feel more alive in an instant than anything imaginable. “A rare glad thing” That is a moment.

Whatever the reason scenic serenity ended up to be my destination for the weekend, and whatever reason is was named so, I care not. I, for perhaps the first time really grasped the concept of a true moment. Spending time with a Cool Breeze, is a time well spent.

Deep Creek Lake, Iamqueer, moment of force, moments, Nature, philosophy, Therapy, What Keeps Me Up At Night

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October 26, 2010

2 Comments

Opportunity Knocks?

Opportunity has a significant amount of applications. Whether its business, politics, or more tangibly, everyday life. In any event, it seems to be almost always associated with luck. Now, if we go with Rod Stewart’s philosophy that “luck is believing your lucky, that’s all, and showing just a little bit of faith,” then luck really has very little to do with an opportunity.

‘Thank you for this opportunity,’ is so often said its nearly sickening.

Many people are very quick to thank others. Their family and friends are acceptable to a degree, however, people they have met only once or twice hardly qualify for the reason this opportunity panned out.

Lets not forget the favorite, God. Even if you are the God fearing type, I still will look askance at you if you give credit to everyone else but yourself, as if your a puppet with many masters. Yes these are the go to lines for those in the public eye. But do you think they really believe the crap they sling in front of the camera? Negative. They simply think that is what you, the viewer, wants to hear. And so, at the biding of the publicist, they say it. Crazy thing about that is, it is what people want to hear!

Luck had nothing to do with how they got before that camera. However, they spin their opportunities into the most fantastic experiences. Like everything, literally everything is coming up roses, and they are gracefully swooping by at a skip to pick them up.

Opportunities from my perspective are as forthcoming as the need to breath. They are presented to us everyday in various forms, whether extravagant or otherwise; an opportunity nonetheless. It is ultimately only us, ourselves that has any real reason as to why these opportunities are turned into rewarding experiences.

Why is there always a search for an explanation outwardly? It was because of God (which is a big reason a god exist-to explain the unexplainable). It was because my mother introduced me to this guy. blah blah blah. What about you? You act as if this was such a momentous decision, no way of avoiding it. It was not. You were mindful enough to notice that opportunity floating by, and you whipped out your net before it got to the next person.

Come on people believe in your own power to control your life, and how that affects other lives! The quantum theory is a very real thing, the power is there. Why do people treat it as leprosy? Sure, believing in things like the quantum theory involves actually thinking about the world and your apparent or not so apparent place in it. It may lead you to question your beliefs. In best cases it may turn your life upside down.

Opportunities are very much like change. “They can be so constant that you don’t feel it until it is there. They can be so slow, that you don’t know if your life is better or worse, until it is. Or they can just blow you away, and make you something different in an instant.” (Life as a House) Perhaps that is why many people shrink in there presence.

So does opportunity knock? Or does it whisper as it rolls on by, taunting you to stop for just a second and listen. Problem is, most people are so caught up in the humdrum of daily life, their practically comatose. “Facing the androids conundrum.” (Australia- The Shins)

This topic is tricky. Not sure how I got to the androids conundrum. But it works for now I guess.

Iamqueer, Nature v Nurture, philosophy, Uncategorized, What Keeps Me Up At Night, You Know What Really Grinds My Gears

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October 6, 2010

6 Comments

Her Gaze…

Engulfed in her gaze
Consumed
Entranced
And all the while helpless.
Hooked like a fish by it’s gills,
Losing breath each second,
But defenceless against the steel of her eyes.
The world around dissolves into a blurry illusion.
A cage, a bubble lifting us from the earth away from sounds and smells that relate us to where we are.
I could stay here.
I could live here.

Uncategorized

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September 28, 2010

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Are You Sure She’s A Girl?…

She stands across the table writing in her secret language, that only she and others from the same planet have the privilege of knowing. Outsiders like myself may be imprisoned, and fed only worms for food, and the juice of worms for drink, if said language by divulged to us in any way.

Her thoughts seem to scatter in a cloud above her, no one too enticing to pull out of the lot. Until a moment later, just before it vanishes she sees that dangerously bright one and snatches it out. ‘Are you sure your going out with a girl?’ ‘Yes, I’m sure.’ ‘Well, are you sure, sure? Because you know some boys, they have long hair.’ (I chuckled to myself) ‘Yes, I am 100% sure. I believe all of those boxes have been checked.’ ‘O.K.’

She has the gift of seeing beauty in all things. Shes not too shy to tell a woman they are beautiful, displaying an almost revelatory glimpse into the adolescent queer. And yet she gives me that all too familiar side ways look when I tell her I am taking a beautiful woman on a date. Her nurture, not by her parents, but by the media and the television that festers with lies and false propaganda, is in direct quarrel with her nature. It is so painstakingly obvious, and I nearly become angry.

I gather myself for a moment. Then I ask the most basic question. ‘Why did you give me that look?’ ‘Because you can’t go on a date date with a girl’ ‘Why not?’ ‘I don’t know, because your only supposed to go on date dates, with boys’ ‘Says who?’ ‘I don’t know’ ‘Well, there are no rules as to who you can go on date dates with. You can date whomever you like. Ok?’ ‘Alright’

Is my good deed done for the day? Who knows. I am not on a mission to correct the misconceptions of every child, or person for that matter. Shes just my BFF, and BFF’s don’t keep secrets.

Babysitter, Nature v Nurture, Parenting, philosophy

September 24, 2010

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The Grocery Store

When I need to wind down from a long day, there is no better remedy then a trip to the grocery store. I’m not sure I can put my finger exactly on the appeal of a warehouse like building filled with neatly stacked aisles of goods. The anticipation felt in the possibility of going is oddly seductive, yet I feel no shame. To each their own, as is said.

Grabbing my headphones, putting on a great play list, and strolling through the aisles grabbing miscellaneous items I probably won’t use, is fantastic. Wearing headphones in a public place in itself is therapeutic. As if I have a big sign on my forehead that says, ‘I do not want to talk to you’.

I can block out the chatter, but still have the comfort of being in a somewhat social setting. My focus is split several times by the music and other surroundings, but still I am able to carry out a most profound conversation with myself, remember three of the five things I actually need, and plan the next day-to a degree of course.

When I leave, I feel lighter, a bit more sprightly than I had walking in. All the stress that was slowly creeping up my neck, as if my shoulders had strings attached and the evil stress puppeteers were pulling them up into a shrug position, is gone. I’m feeling kind of ‘lucy goosey’. Ready to go home and have my night cap.

Grocery Store, Therapy

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September 17, 2010

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Clifford’s Rule

“Belief is desecrated when given to unproved and unquestioned statements for the solace and private pleasure of the believer…. Whoso would deserve well of his fellows in this matter will guard the purity of his belief with a very fanaticism of jealous care, lest at any time it should rest on an unworthy object, and catch a stain which can never be wiped away….If [a] belief has been accepted on insufficient evidence the pleasure is a stolen one….It is sinful because it is stolen in defiance of our duty to mankind. That duty is to guard ourselves from such beliefs as from a pestilence which may shortly master our own body and then spread to the rest of the town….It is wrong always, everywhere, and for every one, to believe anything upon insufficient evidence.”

philosophy

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September 13, 2010

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Operative Word: Almost

There she stands waiting on the curb as usual, as my car inches its way up the obnoxiously slow car line. However, something is different. Not exactly night and day different, in fact nothing nearly as drastic. A subtle difference, one that only I may see.

First grade. The initiation into the drone line. Only a matter of time before the ‘acclaimed’ Virginia learning standards morphs this fantastic pistol of a Leo into a squirt gun made out of “ticky tacky.”

That truth, no matter how daunting it may be, is no match for the six year old standing on the curb.

Her left foot cocked out at 45º, while she leans on her custom lettered, pink, L.L Bean, back-pack on wheels; I am half expecting her to slap her wrist with her forefinger on her imaginary watch indicating I need to hurry up. Her hair-which only a week ago was not long enough- is pulled back into a neat bun. If it weren’t for her favorite dress, I may have looked right past her.

Who is this mature young lady climbing into the backseat? I can’t help but turn around and grin from ear to ear, and say ‘hey first grader’. We get back to the house, clean out the lunch bag, make a snack, talk about the day and what she learned, THEN we pull out the work books, sit at the table and do homework for the first time. Very exciting!

Days like today make me smile. I smile for being given this heartening experience, for being able to take part in such a bright life, but most of all for my mother, and for all mothers on theirs child’s first day of first grade.

7:00 rolls around. I grab my things, bid my farewells until tomorrow, go home, open a nice cold beer, and think to myself, today was one of those days I ALMOST wanted to be a parent.

Babysitter, Parenting

September 8, 2010

1 Comment

Jump out of Birthday cakes, and strip dance…

People talk a lot. Not as in the everyday ‘Joe’ off the street who you can’t shut up, those are a ‘dime a dozen’. I am referring to people who say the most fantastic things, who have the ability to make you excited about a possibility that, well people only talk about. The statements that make your head spin, loins scream, and jaw drop. Without a promise, a guarantee, even a inkling of assertion that this said ‘thing’ will ever come to be. Those that ‘talk the talk, but can’t walk the walk’.

Now, this could be in many ways construed as a gateway into a very worldly and debatable subject. One in which most people have experience, and thus could give substantial input. However, it is quite simply as the title says, I want a girl to jump out of birthday cakes and strip dance for me. I want the ‘whole enchilada’, the ‘total package’, and every other idiom we rattle off on a daily basis, hoping to bring some flair to our otherwise mundane lives.

She has to ‘talk the talk, and walk the walk’. However, the question that remains is, does she even exist?

Uncategorized

September 3, 2010

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