a big week

Unless you've been in a cave, you all know how the gay marriage decision came out. It still hasn't really sunk in for me yet. I'm justifiably statriotic, but I haven't fully grasped that I'm an equal citizen again (legally speaking, anyway). I intend to read the decision, but it's 172 pages, so it'll take a while.

I made it to the rally in West Hollywood, and it was wonderful. Actually, it was kinda boring, to be honest. But it was important to be there, and it was wonderful that it happened. The mood was amazing! People were so happy; especially older people who had actually felt the sting of discrimination. I felt like I was a part of history. May 15, 2008 is a day we'll certainly remember. It's scary how hard we'll have to fight to stop the constitutional amendment. But I think we will win. We have justice on our side.

The best reaction I heard all day was: "Oh thank God, now Brad and Angelina can get married." Hahahaha!

In other news, the date didn't go anything like I'd planned or hoped, but it was wonderful nonetheless. We spent a good 18 hours together, and I enjoyed every minute of it. Well, actually, there were about 4 hours of pure hell, but that wasn't his fault. For some reason I couldn't get to sleep between about 3am and 7am (and this time it wasn't the fault of my crazy neighbor). I had snippets of some Mariah Carey song running through my head, interspersed with the chorus of Justin and Madonna's new song, something about 4 minutes. And I was hot and cold at the same time. So I've had an irritating headache all day. Ugh. But otherwise it was great. We had an incredible breakfast together at The Griddle Cafe on Sunset this morning next to the most beautiful lesbian couple I've ever seen. They were so elegant. Wow. If I were to be reincarnated as a girl, I'd want to be one of them. We did a little shopping on Robertson, and had some good conversation. We had another DTR of sorts, which he initiated again, and which was really productive. I appreciate his honesty so much, because you know how I agonize when I'm left to wonder. And, for once, I seem to be on the exact same page with the guy I like. Hooray! That's not to say that everything will work out. But I'm very happy with where it's at right now.

I also got some really big news this weekend, and had a fun surprise. But I'll have to tell you about those in another post or two.

The only other real excitement was going to see Prince Caspian after some delicious sushi. The movie was as you'd expect: a fun summer blockbuster. The effects were amazing. But even more amazing was the uncanny resemblance of Prince Caspian with the guy I fell in love with on my European tour this summer. If you were ever wondering what kept me in Croatia for a whole week, go see the movie, and you'll know why. Even their voices, mannerisms and facial expressions are the same. Unreal.

Anyway, it was another great weekend. Now I'm going to go drug myself up for a good night's sleep.

big things coming up

As I'm sure you know by now, the California Supreme Court is announcing its decision regarding gay marriage tomorrow at 10am! How exciting! I obviously hope they say its unconstitutional to deny us equality, but I also worry what effect that will have on the elections in November. There's nothing that gets Republicans riled up as much as long-overdue equality. ;-) I will make an effort to make it to the rally at Santa Monica and San Vicente at 7pm tomorrow no matter what happens. But I'll make a much more concerted effort if we win.

In other news, I asked my new guy on a proper date, and he said yes! Actually, what he said was "finally". Which I suppose is an even better response. Depending whether it goes well, I'll have to think about giving him a name on here instead of "new guy".

But I need advice! I'm having trouble remembering ever having gone on a real date with a guy where I ask him out and am responsible for everything and am trying to impress him and get to know him and stuff. Sure, I've gone to nice dinners with guys. But it's always more of a mutual "Hey, let's get dinner, where do you want to go?" kind of thing. This is a proper date!

First of all, if you're in the LA area, I need advice on where to take him. His only criterion is that he'd like to go somewhere he hasn't been. But he hasn't been many places over here, so that should be easy. I'd like it to be fun, but somewhere we can talk and hear each other. I'd like it to be an "event", but that doesn't necessarily mean dressy or expensive.

Actually, that's something else I need advice on. I have an annoying tendency, as you know, to "buy" affection. It's not that I really believe it's a quid pro quo. In fact, I have seen guys get uncomfortable and annoyed with it. For example, I'll buy multiple rounds of drinks in a row instead of letting the other guy take a turn, so they end up feeling beholden, which nobody likes.

But in this case, our money disparity really is quite large. If I end up dating him, the reality is that I'm going to end up paying for way more than half, unless we always eat fast food. And I don't mind! (yet) But I have no idea how to navigate this. I would like to tone down my "buying boys" tendency. And particularly in this case it's important not to set a precedent of me paying for really expensive things, partly because I don't want to make him feel like a prostitute, and partly because if we do end up dating it will be expensive to keep meeting that high bar. But at the same time I want it to be a special first date.

Also, what about fooling around? My allusions in my last post were anything but subtle, so you know I've seen more skin than his face and hands. And of course I'd like a repeat. But I don't want to make it seem as though I require him to put out each time we see each other. That's no way to build a solid relationship. But if we don't do anything, how do I convey that it's not that I don't like him?

Anyway, as usual, I'm overthinking it. I'll just roll with it. But if you have any particular wisdom, it would be much appreciated. And if you have any ideas for where to take him, please send them my way!!!

free hugs

My friend Tødd X over at Iced Tea and Sarcasm posted this yesterday, and I love it! For those of you who read my Twitter, I said a while back that I want to try this some day. Now I'm all the more inspired. I'm going to get a group of people together and go out and do this in West Hollywood. I think it'd be so fun!

hell yes

I'm pretty sure this was one of my best weekends since I moved back to California. I'm not even depressed that Monday is coming up!

On Friday I went out with a few friends in West Hollywood. It was fun, but relatively uneventful. A couple of us wandered over to The Abbey to see what was going on there, and it was also pretty uneventful. But as we were standing there talking next to another group, we noticed a really cute guy. I'm slightly embarrassed to admit I'd had a bit too much to drink, so I honestly don't really remember the transition. (The Twitter covers this period, but it isn't really clear what was happening). Anyway, I ended up talking to him for a while, as each of our groups of friends left. So we decided to get another drink and talk some more. As we were sitting down, he said "So aren't you going to ask for my number?" That seemed like a good sign. Eventually I walked him to where his friends were picking him up, and as we were standing there waiting, he kissed me. And he was really good. Yes!!! We made plans to hang out Sunday night, and I was excited.

On Saturday I woke up kinda late, took my car to get washed, and while I was waiting I texted to ask him when I should pick him up on Sunday. Somewhat unsurprisingly, given my record as of late, he texted back saying he had too much homework and would have to postpone til Thursday. I was disappointed that it turned out to be a big blow-off, but I took it in stride just in case he was telling the truth. But in the course of the texting back and forth, he finally said something to the effect of "Honestly, it would be more meaningful just to have you as a friend. It's so hard to find quality guys in this city and I wouldn't want to screw it up by hooking up too early and then not having the possibility of a friendship." Which I totally agree with, and thought it was really classy to say. But only if it was true. I just assumed it was a load of shit and that he had changed his mind. And I guess it's better to know that early rather than get my hopes up. So I wrote it off to an awesome kiss with a cute guy on a Friday night. C'est la vie. It was kinda sad to realize I'm getting way too used to this happening, and that it's probably not a good thing that I'm so able to take it in stride. It means I'm accepting defeat too easily.

I also decided that since I'm looking for friends, as always, I might as well just make plans to hang out with him. It couldn't hurt, right? He ended up deciding we could hang out Saturday night as long as it was ok if we started late, and as long as I was sure I knew where he stood on the whole thing and wasn't expecting anything. So I cleaned up my apartment, and went to see Ironman with my parents (it was awesome!) Then I went to pick him up, and within 10 minutes, before we even got in my car, he reached up and touched my face and said "Wow, you're a lot cuter when I'm sober." !!!!

So we got in the car and had great conversation the whole way, and stopped at my place to drop off his stuff. He had to spend the night because I was drinking and couldn't drive him home. I HONESTLY wasn't planning anything, by the way. I had come to accept the whole "friends" thing.

After I gave him the tour and he spent some time checking out the books on my shelf, we decided to head to Here for a drink. Before we left I took him to see the view of the city, and as we were standing there he pulled me to face him, put his arms around the small of my back, and kissed me. I pretty much melted into the floor.

Eventually we got ourselves down to the strip, and walked with our arms around each other because it was freaking cold. We got into Here at about 12:30, but it was so crowded we kinda wanted to die. We went into the VIP area for some breathing space, but it was still too much so we left after one drink. We went to Eleven, which was less crowded but wasn't playing great music. We had another drink upstairs, but then decided to call it quits. We went back to my place and he wanted to shower before bed because he'd had a long day at work and then the stinky club. So after I got him set up with a towel and stuff he gave me another kiss, sat me down on my bed, said "Wait right there", and closed the door for his shower.

He apparently didn't mean that literally because he laughed when he came out and found I was still fully dressed. I went and changed into sleeping clothes and when I came out he was in bed. I hopped into bed next to him, he kissed me, and while we didn't go to sleep for some time, once we did we cuddled all night. So cute!

When we woke up we brushed our teeth, went back to bed for some talking and whatnot, and then showered so we could head to our Mother's Day festivities.

We went for breakfast, did a little Mother's Day shopping, and then I dropped him off. We texted back and forth all afternoon until I got yelled at by my sister that texting at the table is rude. He wanted to come back tonight, but it didn't work out logistically. But we continued to text back and forth all night with lots of cute flirting. He accidentally (or maybe not) left his clothes hanging in my closet, so he'll have to come back.

So, as you can probably tell, I'm having fun with this. I am trying VERY hard not to get my hopes up. But I am also fighting my inclination to assume there's something wrong with him (or there's something else fishy going on) if he likes me as much as he seems to. But it doesn't appear that I'm missing anything valuable around the house, so it's not a repeat of my first WeHo story. And if what he says is to be believed, he actually does want to see me again. I have no idea whether there's actually any relationship potential. I can count off a number of reasons why it's unlikely. But I'd rather not be pessimistic. I'll just roll with it. I enjoy his company. He's sweet, smart, hardworking, honest and considerate. So, it's worth a try.

Anyway, as I told my Mom (who insisted I send her pictures of him...I'm my mother's son!) it may not go anywhere, but it's at least fun to have the possibility. It's flattering to have somebody think highly of me. And at the very least, it could be good just to practice dating. So, it is what it is. It was an exciting weekend. We shall see!

Gah!

A freaking bug just flew straight up my left nostril! Disgusting!

Anyway, I drove the Vespa to work for the first time today. And it turns out there's a price to be paid for saving the environments. It took like 15 minutes extra to get to work and to get home because I have to (1) put on my helmet, (2) bungee cord my bag to the back, (3) put my wallet and phone into my bag so they don't fall out of my pockets onto the street, (4) put on my kevlar jacket, (5) do the kickstand thing, (6) fumble around getting the garage door opener out of the little compartment...annoying! But I guess it's worth it. I got an amazing parking spot today because, unlike with my car, I'm willing to stuff it into the tiniest of tiny compact spots next to a pole. And I think I probably used like 3 tablespoons of gas today, which was awesome. The only downside was that some asshole didn't feel like he should have to drive behind me (even though I was going above the speed limit) and passed me ON THE RIGHT in the parking lane. Not only is that totally illegal, but it's also quite dangerous (for me). I memorized his license plate number, but then realized there's really nothing I could do about it. (Or is there?)

I'm curious about stuff...do any of you drive motorcycles? While I was putting $60 of gas (3/4 tank) into my car last night, I spoke with a very nice French fellow who was putting $4.60 of gas into his scooter. He said that while it may not be legal, in 3 years he has never gotten a parking ticket for backing it in between two cars and not paying either meter. He also said he has never paid at a parking lot with a mechanical arm because he just scoots around the arm and puts it off to the side where it's not taking up a spot. Is that true? Could I get away with that?

Also, is it legal to scoot between rows of cars stopped at a stoplight and put yourself first in line? I figure it might be a little douchey to "cheat", but I think I (and my other environmentalists) deserve to go first as a reward for our do-gooder-ism. Also, it's not costing them anything. It's not like the cars don't get to go because I went first. I can accelerate WAY faster and am out of the way before they even put their foot on the gas. What do you think? How do you feel about motorcyclists who do that? I would never do it in moving traffic because that's dangerous. But what's the harm at a stoplight?

So, I'm not sure whether I should be embarrassed to admit this (I'm not), but I'm kinda digging Gossip Girl. I tivo'd it a few weeks ago out of curiosity because Towleroad said there'd be a major character coming out. I wanted to see how they'd handle that. So I kept watching episodes, waiting for it to happen, and finally it did last night. And it was well done, I thought. Totally unrealistic, but still sympathetic to the gays. I'm not sure I understand the characters or what's going on, but I do know that it's mindless entertainment, and that Chace Crawford and Penn Badgley are hot. Also, the characters are incredibly well dressed, and since I'm not, I want to take inspiration.

Anyway, that's all for now. I'm plotting how to get time off work in July so I can join some new friends on a boondoggle. That's all I'm really thinking about right now. That, and my crush I can't have. And the fact that I'm hungry.

twitter

So I'm thinking of trying Twitter. I can't imagine any of you would want to keep track of the ridiculous inanities of my day-to-day life. But, then again, you do read my blog. So if you're not tired of me by now, maybe you'll find my twittering mildly interesting.

And maybe I'll forget to tweet. But since I've been so ridiculously busy lately and haven't had time to blog, this will be a stopgap until I can get back on the wagon.

I have been doing it for less than 24 hours now, so I'm not really sure what it'll be like. I'll do my best not to tell you what kind of bread I'm deciding between at the market. But I can't promise profundities in 140 characters or less. We'll just have to see how it turns out. As the Twitter website says, "real life happens between blog posts". So I guess you can see what I'm up to during the hours and days when I don't have a chance to check in here.

I honestly don't know how it works from your end. I know you can go to my blog and see my updates in the sidebar. See? Over there on the right? I believe you can also go to the Twitter website and sign up to "follow me". I'm signed up under my email address: debrieftheboys@gmail.com. If you're really hard core, I believe you can have my updates sent to your IM, email or cell phone.

Anyway, if you're interested, it's another option. It's the latest hot thing on the internets, so I might as well give it a try. Besides, it'll be like writing a journal for me; I'll keep track of the little stuff that I would otherwise just forget.

In other news, I got my Vespa today!!! Woo-hooo!!!! I haven't had a chance to ride it yet, but I will. I'm so excited! 70 miles per gallon, baby! And don't worry, I'm going to wear a helmet and a protective jacket and all that. I may look like a tool, but I've got a lot of money invested in my brain and I don't want it splattered all over Santa Monica Blvd. To me, a Vespa evokes a carefree summer fling with a gorgeous European man. You know what I mean...throw some wine and cheese and a baguette in the back and hop on with your shirts flapping in the wind as you zip down to the Mediterranean for a swim and a picnic. In reality, it's going to be Hollywood assholes in Bentleys honking at me to get out of their way in traffic. But I can dream, boys, I can dream!

it just takes time

This weekend was a lot of fun because it was very social. But the social aspects were ultimately disappointing. Why? Because I did everything right, and still got nowhere!

On Saturday night I went to a party where there were a couple guys I knew, but most I didn't. Most were shirtless, many were hot. All were nice. I took it upon myself to try to talk to everybody at least a little bit, and it was very rewarding. I facebooked quite a few of them, and intend to see some of them again.

On Sunday after doing some errands at home I went to the beach at Santa Monica to do a little reading and tanning. And then I went to a mixer I was invited to where I knew NOBODY. When I arrived there were only about ten people there, and most were at least 30 years older than me, and everybody looked very dorky and awkward. I freaked out a little and left, but then I collected myself and decided to take it as a challenge. So I went in and decided to just start introducing myself and practicing the art of asking questions you don't care to hear the answer to, but looking interested nonetheless. I actually met some interesting people, and if I didn't have to leave for another party I would have really enjoyed continuing to challenge myself.

The next party was more along the lines of what I'm used to: loud, crowded, and full of very hot young guys. I went because I was invited by the guy I have a crush on. But when I arrived he was talking to his new interest. So I was pretty disappointed. But I made the best of it and chatted up some other guys who were very nice. Meanwhile I was scanning the room, and I noticed that I kept making eye contact with a very cute guy who was probably a few years older than me.

I guess I was being shy, and I was also kinda in a funk from my disappointment over my crush. So I didn't do anything. But then I decided to suck it up. The worst that could happen was rejection. So I walked right up to him and introduced myself. We dove immediately into a very lively chat and I liked him a lot. Until he mentioned his long-term boyfriend who was out of town. Ugh! It took all that effort to go talk to him! I suppose what I described as "we were making eye contact" was really "me staring at him and him looking back because he couldn't avoid it." When I told my friends, they suggested I angle for a threesome. But that's not the point! It's too easy to find sex in this city. I want a boyfriend! Failing that, I want more friends.

I guess I shouldn't say I got NOTHING out of my socializing. It's always good to meet new people in a new town. I never know when I'll run into one of them at a club or something and they'll introduce me to somebody who might be "the one". Also, it's good practice for me to get outside my comfort zone and just talk to people I don't know. I may find a new best friend at an event like this. I didn't this weekend, but maybe next time I will.

japanese game show

Japanese game shows are the best!

c.r.a.z.y.

I saw the movie C.R.A.Z.Y. the other night, and it's now one of my favorites. It follows the life of a kid and his family as they come to terms with the fact he's gay. But it's not really a "gay" movie. In fact, it seems like that was a very small part of it. It's just a fantastic character drama. It says a lot about families and growing up and life in general. It's in French, so if you can't understand it or hate subtitles you might not like it. But I highly recommend it! It made me cry.

It was recommended by my friend the Gay Ninja Robot, and today is his birthday. So first you should go over there and make his day by leaving a Happy Birthday comment. And then you should go rent the movie. I'm going to buy it.

sunday blues

Sunday afternoons are SO depressing! I always get so down thinking about the fact that I have to go back to work Monday morning that I'm hardly able to enjoy the last 25% of my weekend. What a waste! I do my best not to think about it, but it hardly ever works. It's even worse when I've had a fun weekend. For me, weekends are the time when I remember what life is SUPPOSED to be about: friends, family, hobbies, self-enrichment, exercise, fun. It would be such a shame to be on my deathbed and look back on my life and feel like 5/7 of it was a waste. Sunday nights remind me that this is a likely outcome.

Anyway, I did have a good weekend. The only bad thing was that my crazy fucking neighbor has been in rare form lately, so I haven't had enough sleep in a long time. My plan was to catch up this weekend, but he woke me up at 7 on Saturday, and then at 5 this morning. Like I've said before, I do feel quite sorry for him, so I don't mean to be callous. But on a practical level, I wish he'd just get on with it...eviction, commitment in a mental hospital, incarceration, moving in with his mom...I don't care which, he gets to choose. But why drag it out? The eviction notice was taped to his door last week, so in 90 days it's time to pay the piper. Just go already and it won't be on your record! And if he's going to stay until the bitter end, why can't he scream at 5pm instead of 5am? So, needless to say, I didn't catch up on sleep so I have a headache. I'll probably feel really bad if he kills himself, but I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.

Since I was up early anyway on Saturday, I did a last minute skim of the books and then went to the DMV for my tests. I had to re-take the normal written test because it's been a while. But I also got my motorcycle learner's permit! Hooray! I can't wait to start cruising around at 70 miles per gallon.

From there I went with a friend to see the Body Worlds exhibit. I really liked it! It's kinda creepy, to be sure, but very interesting. If you don't already know what it is, it's a traveling exhibition of preserved human bodies in lifelike poses. They're cut up in different ways and at different layers, so you can see basically all there is to see about how humans are put together.

A few things kept going through my mind:

"It's so weird that this dude was probably 80 when he died, but now he's posed for eternity like a superstar athlete."

"How in the world do all these intricate body parts come together in just 9 months, and with so few birth defects?!?"

"How many people had to die to make this happen?"

"I know I'm not the only one who can't not look at the freeze-dried penises."

"I wish I knew who these people were in life."

"I wish I could see that hot guy over there posed like this, but with his skin still on."

"It's amazing people are as durable as they are with all this complicated stuff needing to happen just to stay alive."

Anyway, it was a good time, followed by some Chipotle, and then I was off to my parents' house to pick up my car. I had it at the body shop getting the paint repaired after that guy hit me in the parking lot. It looks great, so I'm pleased.

Saturday night I had dinner with a friend, then we sat at Starbucks for a long time catching up.

Today I spent most of the day at the horse races with my family, stuffing my face. I never ended up gambling. I'm not against it, but I just don't really understand the attraction. It's exciting to win, but it's also exciting not to blow all your money and then feel like an idiot. The odds are always for the house, and my family definitely ended up in the hole. Having money on a race makes it more fun to watch, because you have a reason to care about the outcome. But I just cheered for the horses my mom was betting on, since she made me go to the booth each time to place her bet. The horses are beautiful, and the view from where we were sitting was spectacular. It was a nice way to pass the day.

I'm now home trying to clean my apartment and doing laundry. I may watch a movie and, again, stuff my face. It will be a good way to finish things off.

How was your weekend?

you never know

I like this.

frisbee

The most random thing happened to me today. I was chatting with a friend who is in Europe, and she was telling me how they were throwing a frisbee around on this particularly beautiful field in Scotland where she knows I've been. And all of a sudden I had this intense feeling of nostalgia for the big trips I took this summer/fall.

But more importantly, and what's strange, is that I also had a feeling of regret. And the regret was centered on....not having taken a frisbee to Europe with me! I had all these visions of a frisbee being the perfect way to meet guys, no matter what language they speak or where they're from.

The way I see it, if you're obviously a young backpacker wandering around Europe, it's perfectly legitimate to make eye contact with any other young person lounging around, make as if you're going to throw the frisbee in order to elicit permission, and then throw it! And suddenly you're friends. And others will want to join.

Seriously! I had this deep feeling of regret that I didn't think of this BEFORE I went on my trip. I am not shy at all once I have the ice broken; my problem is figuring out a way to break the ice. That's why I drink when I go out...it's what gives me the edge to break the ice so I can have conversations with people I don't know.

Dammit! Well, next time I go anywhere, I'm taking a frisbee.

And now, speaking of Europe, I'm going to watch Season 1, Episode 4 of the Tudors. Henry Cavill is so freaking hot.

a four letter word

I went to a red carpet movie premiere and after-party this weekend! There's something really fun about sitting in a theater watching a movie with the people who made it. And it's really fun to see actors you've just been watching have hot gay sex on screen and tell them they did a good job.

The movie was "A Four Letter Word" and I think it might only be in NY and LA right now, and Palm Springs soon. So if you're in any of those cities, you should go see it. In LA, it's at the Sunset Laemmle 5 in West Hollywood at Sunset and La Cienega. Amazingly, they made the whole thing on $125,000 and shot it in 17 days. Truly amazing. I think it says some good things about gay culture, and it's a fun way to spend 2 hours. And, if for no other reason, you should go to support gay independent film makers, because the big studios aren't going to invest in gay movies unless they know we'll pay to see them.



Also, at the after-party, I ran into a boy I have long had a crush on. And the following happened: he hugged me and looked pleased to see me; he remembered my name; he hugged me again when I walked away and did the lingering hand holding thing as the hug broke up; he texted me in the middle of the night (which means he was thinking about me, and that he still had my number from the last time I saw him). Victory! Now I just have to figure out how to capitalize on it. For the record, I am convinced he's just leading me on and messing with me for sport. But I don't even care; he's that hot.

FAG

Oh my god, people. I don't want this blog to turn into a never-ending cycle of ever-increasingly detailed defenses of myself in response to your emails and comments, because that's boring. So hopefully we can put this string of posts to rest. But sometimes it drives me nuts to be so misinterpreted, so I can't resist. I've deleted the hateful follow-on comments, and you obviously can't read my emails. So this may not make sense to any of you who haven't become invested in the conversation that's been going on. For those of you who don't give a shit, I'm moving on after this. Hallelujah.

I simply don't have the time to qualify and contextualize EVERYTHING I say. I'd need 200 footnotes per post if I were to anticipate all the ways people would choose to interpret every word I use. So I understand that I'll never preempt all the nasty emails and comments I get to attack me or my word choices. This is why I generally don't respond to comments (although I usually do respond to emails). It turns into a mess!

You know how much I like to explain things, so if I had meant to write a post about all the myriad reasons for the demise of my 6-month friendship with the guy who called me a fag, I would have devoted more than three random sentences to it. I didn't think it was necessary because the post wasn't about that. I only mentioned it to illustrate how strongly I feel about the misuse of that word. It was a throw-away comment. But if you want context, of course I give friends a second chance when they deserve it. Yes, of course he used it in the hurtful way (which seemed obvious to me, since the post was about somebody using it in a hurtful way). Yes, I had a lot of other reasons to end the friendship; that was only the moment when it became obvious the friendship wasn't worth saving.

If the previous post had been meant to be about my complex feelings about the word "fag" and the nuanced ways in which it's used, you can bet I would have devoted a whole post to it (like I once did for the word "whatever"). But that wasn't the point of the post. Again, it seemed obvious to me that I was talking about the HURTFUL use of the word. The anonymous commenter obviously meant to hurt me with it. So I didn't think it necessary to specify that "calling somebody a fag is totally unacceptable" when they mean to hurt somebody with it, and I didn't go off on a tangent and list the situations when I think it's ok to use, because that would have been irrelevant. Sometimes I just have to assume you're on board with me, and are going to understand what I mean without mapping out every thought.

Yes, obviously there are acceptable uses of the word fag. For example, when you're writing about somebody using it, it's perfectly fine to quote it as I've done here numerous times. I don't think words are inherently poisonous; they get their power from the way in which they're used. No, I am not bothered when somebody uses it in a friendly, joking way among gay friends (although I don't, because I think it's tacky). Yes, I understand the concept of oppressed groups appropriating a word as a way to defuse its power to injure.

Basically, my friends, the point is this: If you've read this blog for any amount of time, you'll know that I enjoy mulling things over and teasing out my thoughts. Sometimes in infuriating detail. I'm not saying I always have my thoughts organized or even solidified before I write; often I don't. And that's why I love your feedback. But I'd definitely appreciate the benefit of the doubt before jumping to the conclusion that I'm a terrible friend or that I can't handle naughty words (or, for that matter, that I'm shallow or needy). I am a normal, complex person; you can't tell a whole lot about me from one sentence in one blog post.

So here's a rule of thumb: If you ever read something and it seems like you can label me with some monolithic, one-sided, unreasonable, unfounded view (e.g. "Matt never forgives friends who make a mistake" or "Matt thinks the word fag is unacceptable in all circumstances" or "Matt hates fat people no matter how nice they might be") then you're probably wrong. If I ever were to express an opinion of that variety, I would devote a whole post to it.

So, when you think you spot something like that, why not ask me for some clarification before jumping to a conclusion? It's tiring expending mental and emotional energy sifting through nasty emails and comments when I didn't even say the thing I'm accused of saying. If you have to attack me, why not do it over the things I DID say? Lord knows I give you plenty of fodder.

heat wave

LA is having some kind of crazy ass heat wave. I was driving down Melrose just now and my car said it was 100. I don't know whether that was true, but weather.com says it's 94 right now, at 5pm. Wow.

I stopped by Manhattan Beach on my way back from somewhere this afternoon and took this picture. The beach was packed. I'm amazed at how many people are already tan. How did they do that by mid-April?

In other news...

I never hesitate to say outlandish things on my blog even if I suspect it will offend. Sometimes I hedge my language in an effort not to appear totally thoughtless. For example, last night, I made it clear that I'm sure the guys in the second video are "charming and funny and wonderful." The point of the post wasn't to evaluate their worth as human beings, any more than it was to evaluate the utility of coal as a natural resource. In fact, I admire the self-deprecating humor it required to make that video. As I said, I was merely making a point about aesthetics. I thought that was pretty obvious, even without the disclaimer.

Of course, I expect people to miss the point of what I say, because that always happens. People often focus on one thing, take it way out of context, and run with it. And that's fine! The comments are there to discuss whatever you'd like, and I love hearing what people take away. I often see facets of the discussion I never even imagined.

But sometimes, people attack me personally. Sometimes I delete nasty comments. Other times I just roll my eyes and ignore them. This time, it was so outlandish that I had to have a little fun with it.

i am soooo disappointed :( i've been reading your blog from day 1 and always thought of you as caring, sophisticated and genuine. boy was i wrong - you're just another weho fag who's as shallow and needy as the next.

First of all, and most importantly, calling somebody a fag is totally unacceptable. Words matter, and a gay guy should know that. Calling somebody a fag behind a cloak of anonymity is cowardly. You should be ashamed. A few weeks ago I ended a budding 6-month friendship with somebody I spoke to daily because he got upset and called me a fag. No second chances. I will not speak to him again.

It used to genuinely bother me when people said things like that, because I was so unsure of myself as a gay man that I had to wonder whether it was true and I just didn't realize it. But after two years of blogging, I've developed a pretty thick skin. This comment didn't bother me because it was so baseless (at least in the context of that post). In fact, I can't even imagine what set him off.

It can't be because I called the guys fat; the guy in the white hat undoubtedly fits the technical definition of obesity. Perhaps describing somebody accurately makes somebody a shallow, needy weho fag? Strange. Next time my mom calls the sky blue, I'll be sure to call her a shallow, needy weho fag.

Perhaps it's because I tried to begin a rather academic discussion on the nature of beauty and the meaning of the concept of objectivity? If so, all you college aged guys better start calling your art history professors shallow, needy weho fags. Especially if you go to school in Iowa or something. If it doesn't go over well, just refer them here. It'll make perfect sense.

Perhaps it's because (even though I never explicitly said so) I obviously prefer the 6-pack to the beer belly, as a purely aesthetic matter. Ummm, if that makes me a shallow, needy weho fag, then humanity has a serious problem, because I'm pretty sure I'm not alone. And, anyway, I think even shallow, needy weho fags are entitled to their preferences.

Perhaps he was truly so "disappointed" in my degeneration since leaving the moral heartland of Massachusetts that he was crying out in despair and couldn't help let slip the epithet. In fact, the implication that I've become MORE shallow and needy in the last two years is the part of the comment that puzzled me the most.

Anybody who was reading the blog on "day 1" would remember the rampant objectification of guys that characterized this blog in its first year. Every other post was filled with porn. And if you were paying any attention, I never once posted a fat guy. I suppose that might make me shallow. Touche. I own it. I am one shallow motherfucker when it comes to what I like to watch when I jerk off.

How about the needy part? Has it gotten worse since moving to WeHo? Maybe, but I doubt it. Two years ago I was an insecure closet case, struggling for acceptance and affirmation on my first few dates, and so desperate for experience that I welcomed strangers into my bed until one hurt me. I still have self-esteem problems, to be sure, and I suppose you could equate low self-esteem with neediness. But I don't think that's something to call me a fag over. And even if it were, it's gotten much better.

So, perhaps "weho" was the operative word! Since I was demonstrably more shallow and needy before moving here, what he must have meant was that he's disappointed that I've turned from a "shallow, needy Boston fag" into a "shallow, needy weho fag"! Oh good, that makes perfect sense. It was just a lesson in geography!

Anyway, I find it fascinating the things people will say from the safety of their computers. I know I wouldn't keep reading a personal blog for two years if I hadn't come to like the person. And I know I wouldn't call somebody I like a "shallow, needy weho fag" very lightly. I think it's easy to forget that I'm just some real guy, living a real life, with real family and real friends and real feelings. It's sad, really, the way the internet gives us license to hurt each other. Alas.

the eye of the beholder

I saw the above video on Towleroad today, and I thought it was awesome. I clicked through to YouTube, and saw this follow-on video:



And the juxtaposition helped me solidify something I'd been thinking a bit about lately: Is beauty really just in the eye of the beholder, or are some things simply, objectively, more beautiful than others?

For example, I think very few people are honestly going to think a hunk of coal is more beautiful than a diamond. A diamond, I would posit, is objectively beautiful.

In the context of boys, we clearly have different tastes. Whether you like tall or short, hairy or smooth, brown eyes or blue eyes...I think that's totally subjective.

What I'm curious about is where you think other criteria fall on that spectrum between subjective and objective. Specifically, how many of you honestly think the guys in the second video are more beautiful than the guys in the first? Are lithe bodies and 6-pack abs objectively more beautiful than beer bellies?

And if so, is objectivity just a numbers game? If 99% of people prefer the diamond, and 99% of people prefer the 6-pack, is that enough to call them "objectively" more beautiful?

And if we do get that kind of agreement, I wonder whether it's something hard-wired into humans, or whether it's totally learned. Could we have been taught to prefer coal and beer bellies? For example, I've been told that during the middle ages, fat, pale people were considered more beautiful than thin, tan people.

If we do think there's some hard-wiring involved, is there an identifiable quality called "beauty"? Or are we subconsciously taking other hard-wired traits (like the imperative to survive) and just calling it "beauty"? For example, rare (diamond) = valuable = money = survival. Or healthy (6-pack) = strong = virile = lots of babies = survival. (Or something like that, just like during the middle ages people liked fat pale people because that meant they could afford to sit around indoors instead of work in the fields, which meant they were rich, which is good perhaps because it means survival.)

(And give me a break, I'm not being mean. I'm sure the fat guys are charming and funny and wonderful. I'm just making a point about aesthetics.)

So what do you think?

Either way, I definitely need to eat something other than Cheeze-Its for dinner. So I'm off.

online dating

I have decided to try online dating. I must admit that even though I grew up in the internet age, I still feel some lingering embarrassment about it. But screw that. I'm going to do it anyway.

First of all, I need suggestions on which one to use. Ideas? Of course I'd rather not pay for it. But if I have to pay to get on the best one, I will. Match.com? Connexion? OKCupid? Gay.com? Adam4Adam? Chemistry.com?

The problem is, I have no clue how to fill out the profiles. I want to be honest, but I don't want to present all my peccadillos up front like a disclaimer. Actually, in my case, the greater danger is that I will downplay my qualities out of modesty and/or low self esteem and/or not wanting to raise expectations too high only to later disappoint.

I want to appear confident because everybody likes confidence, and I want to put my best foot forward (because I do think people usually like me once they meet me, so the site is only necessary to get that first date). But I don't want to come off like I'm marketing some product (which, essentially, I am). But I probably need a mix of negatives because I think that would humanize me. So what do I put? I don't like to watch professional sports? I don't cook? I don't like to talk on the phone? Any of those could alienate people.

I want to attract the kind of guys I am interested, but not rule out matches that might surprise me. For example, this would be a truthful statement in my case: "I'm not much of a clubber, but I do enjoy it when I'm there. I would like to find a guy who usually prefers to go out to dinner with friends, see a movie or have a game night, but who can also enjoy a night of drinking and dancing." If I were to read that, I'd think "He's a lame-ass homebody teetotaler who probably can't dance, but doesn't want to admit it." I'm afraid I would only attract homebodies with a statement like that, and would miss out on a fun date with a clubbing freak. But if I put "I enjoy dancing at clubs" am I going to scare away the homebodies?

The ultimate goal is a long-term relationship, but I'm worried about scaring away the quality guys who are just looking for some casual dates. Who knows, those casual daters might find they actually want a long term relationship once they meet me.

I'm bad at pithy and witty, but it seems to be the best way to go on these profiles. You guys can attest to my need to overexplain things. Since I'm not devastatingly gorgeous, nobody is going to want to read a book about me. But I don't think I can adequately express myself without a lot of words!

They make me commit to boxes I can't commit to. For example, they ask your religion. I'm basically agnostic at this point, but I could go either way in the future: back to calling myself a Christian, or to total atheism. I just don't know. But I don't want to put agnostic, because that's so non-commital and lame. It makes it sound like I haven't thought about it, which is certainly not the case. No matter which box I pick, I don't think it will be accurate. And not picking any box at all seems lazy.

And then there's the salary box. I don't want a guy to pick me because he wants somebody who makes more or less than him, as the case may be. But if you don't mark it, it seems like you're hiding something.

How do I handle aspirations? I don't go to the gym. But I aspire to! I don't do any volunteer work. But I aspire to! I think "physically active" and "volunteer" express who I am at my core, but they're just not true at the moment. If I put those things, I'm lying. But if I don't, I'll come across as fat/lazy or selfish, neither of which I am.

Similar problem with my job. Right now it takes all my time, and a potential date would have to accept that. But I don't plan on being here forever. So, if I meet a guy who likes my job, he may end up disappointed when I quit it. If I meet a guy who doesn't like my job, I can't say for sure when I'll quit.

I feel...standard. I like world travel, photography, watersports (not like that), history, eating out, trying new things etc. That's basically boilerplate. EVERY profile says that shit. Is somebody really going to pick me because I like to go to Europe? I doubt it. So it feels lame to list all that stuff. But it seems requisite.

I don't know how conscious I want to be of the process. The truth is, I feel awkward and want to say something like "I never know what to write on these things" because I'm sure the profile won't accurately represent me and I don't want people to think they can rely on it. But at the same time, it's somehow not cool to be conscious of the fact that you're using an online dating site.

What pictures do I choose? Only the ones that make me look my best? Is it fair to only put pictures in which I'm tan and have a great haircut and caught the right angle with the camera?

So, does anybody have any suggestions? War stories? Have any of you used an online dating site? What was the result?

this weekend

My overall verdict so far is that this weekend was a wash.

The good:

-Having a good conversation with a first-timer (in more ways than one) in West Hollywood.

-Having some quality time with Grandma. (It's so strange to have to cut food into little pieces and wipe up spills and tie shoes for somebody who used to do that for me not so long ago.)

-Getting my car washed at my favorite car wash (if any of you live in the area, the Santa Palm car was on Santa Monica and Palm is really great. For $11 (with coupon) plus a tip they even get down on the ground and clean all the disc-brake gunk from between the intricate parts of the wheels. Amazing! And every time I've been, there was at least one hot guy to gawk at. It is in the heart of WeHo, after all.)

-Citibank giving back the $1000+ that was stolen out of my ATM. I have never had anything but good times with that bank. I recommend them.

-Attending a fun party where I was able to reconnect with somebody who has a pretty decent reason to hate me, and make a new friend.

-Completing a bit of very fulfilling volunteer work (with the added bonus that there were some VERY hot guys there who I got to hang out with).

-Seeing your pretty faces on Facebook. Thank you SO MUCH for friending me! I feel much more of a connection.


The bad:

-Receiving a large gift I didn't deserve and not being able to return it in time, let alone give proper thanks.

-Letting my hatred of shopping get the better of me, so that I bought a shirt I couldn't afford as a way to get out of the store without feeling like the time was a total waste. Stupid! (But it looks hot on me, so whatever)

-Seeing a boy in my neighborhood who I hooked up with who I think is ridiculously hot even with his clothes on, who I then screwed things up with, and feeling the loss.

-Committing a major faux pas, thereby damaging a friendship. I was TOTALLY innocent of malicious intent, but very often its the effect that matters, not the intent. And for that, I apologized (and it was accepted). I just didn't think before acting, and hit an EXTREMELY sensitive button, but I have learned my lesson. I HATE HATE HATE drama of any kind, so this event alone comes very close to outweighing all the good things that happened this weekend. I alternately felt like crying and throwing up. My hatred of drama almost made me run from the situation rather than fix it, but I'm glad I did the uncomfortable thing. A little awkwardness going forward is much better than a lost friendship with somebody I value.

Anyway, that's that. Movies make me feel better, so I'm going to see Stop Loss. By myself. And gorge myself on buttered popcorn. It'll probably distract me by getting me all riled up about He Who Must Not Be Named.

I hope you all had a good weekend. Tell me your highlights....

facebook

I'm not even going to pretend I'm not biting off my friend London Preppy. I'm just going to embrace it, and thank him for the idea. Thanks man! I hope you'll be one of my first friends on Facebook. It's just too bad I don't have hot shirtless pictures of myself to put up on my page!

Anyway, I've opened an account and a "Fan Page" on Facebook, and I would really appreciate it if you'd join! See, blogging feels really one-sided. My favorite part of the whole thing is when you write me an email or IM me. I don't have as much time as I used to when I was in school to keep up those conversations, so I thought I'd try something new.

It just makes the whole thing SO much more meaningful to me when I can see there are real live people out there when I push "publish". And I'd imagine it would be more fun for you to be able to see who you're talking to in the comments. It seems to have worked for London Preppy!

So, please become my friend here.

And please join my fan page here.

And while you're at it, join London Preppy's page here!

I look forward to seeing you on Facebook!

love of wealth, fear of death

I'm back! You probably didn't realize I was gone, but I was. See, my computer crashed. I was pretty annoyed, since I just shelled out for Vista less than a year ago. But I put the disk in, clicked the button telling it to repair itself, and it did. Voila! I don't understand that...if it is capable of fixing itself, why didn't it just do it in the first place? Why stress me out?

Just as soon as I got my computer fixed, my external hard drive crashed. And we're not talking about the one with the music on it, people. We're talking about the one with the PORN! I know, I know. Take a few deep breaths, you'll be fine.

Obviously it was a disaster of biblical proportions, so I had to attend to it at the cost of everything else. But everything is ok now. I took it apart and put it back together, and now it seems ok. Fingers crossed, knock on wood, etc.

So, I had a few days without...electronic recreational activities. And that gave me time to think. I did receive a few emails at work, and one of them really struck me. I'm sure many of you got it too. It was from the HRC, and it said "Have you ever wanted to be a part of history?"

And I thought, "Well, YES! Of course! Everybody dreams about doing something great, being a part of big change, leaving a legacy." But in the humdrum of daily life, we get lost. We start to think that all we ever really wanted was the next promotion, the next raise, the next set of benefits, and then retirement. Why am I living on the time frame of "Monday to Friday" instead of "world history"?

And then today I was reading about Martin Luther King, Jr., since today is the 40th anniversary of his death. And there was a quotation, which I'm going to have to paraphrase: "There are two things that make men vulnerable: love of wealth and fear of death." Martin Luther King, Jr. overcame both of those, this person argued, and that's what enabled him to do great things.

I don't think I'm particularly afraid of death. I guess I'm still too young for that. And I don't really think I love wealth, in a positive sense (don't be confused by this post. Yes, I'd like to be rich, particularly if I have a kid. But now I'm talking about me, by myself, and what I could be happy with.)

So I think I have to mix that quotation up for it to apply to me: I am afraid of NOT having wealth as I approach death.

I honestly don't think I need even the lifestyle I'm living now to be happy (assuming I don't have a kid). I would be relatively satisfied driving a used Toyota, sharing an apartment, shopping at thrift stores and not vacationing anyplace I couldn't drive. Don't get me wrong, I do enjoy the relatively glamorous lifestyle I'm leading. And who doesn't want more? But I don't NEED it.

But when I get to be 50, 60, 70, 80, I'm going to say "Crap, now what? All I've got is this lousy Toyota and these worn out clothes, and pretty soon I won't be able to work anymore, and then what? Am I going to make my sisters' kids support me? Am I going to live off Social Security? Hope my parents leave me something?"

And THAT is what stops me from even considering "making history." I don't have time to fight the good fight. I've got my 401k to tend to! And that, my friends, is LAME.

While I sit around making money, we are in the middle of one of the last great civil rights battles. And I'm gay! Why aren't I working for the HRC or Lambda Legal or even GLAAD? I've got the skills and the interest to make a difference. So what's the problem? Someday my grandson will be doing a report on the gay rights movement at the turn of the millennium, and he'll interview me, knowing I was there. He'll ask me what part I played in bringing about gay marriage, ending "Don't Ask, Don't Tell", repealing DOMA, allowing gays to donate blood, opening up the Boy Scouts, denouncing hate-filled evangelical preachers, reforming the tax code to recognize gay partners, and making schools a safe place to come out. And I'll say "Sorry, kid, I was cooped up in an office during those decades." And when he looks dejected and disgusted, I'll say "But I have a REALLY great retirement account! Want a thousand dollars??"

And it doesn't even have to be a gay issue. I won't belabor the point, but I think this country is at a very important crossroads, politically. Why aren't I out campaigning for the candidate I believe in? Or working in other ways to lobby for change? Why is my engagement with world history limited to 20 minutes of NPR per day? Why should I be the one listening to it on the radio instead of out there making it happen?

We hear about these people doing great things and we think they're somehow different. But they're not! They're people JUST LIKE ME who overcame their fear of death and/or their love of wealth, and they took a risk. The question isn't why I should do something. It's why I SHOULDN'T do something.

reflections of a former boy scout

"Once a scout, always a scout," they say. Unless, of course, you're gay.

(I noticed the rhyme, briefly considered writing this as a poem so that I could rename this post "Lamentation of a Former Boy Scout", which has a much better ring to it, but then decided I can't write poetry.)

I started early in the Scouts. I don't think I was ever a Tiger, but I was definitely a Cub Scout. My mom was a Den Leader. Once I was a Boy Scout I went to summer camp on Catalina Island. I learned first aid and how to tie knots and how to avoid blisters when hiking. My Cub Scout den still gets together periodically.

I became over-involved in extracurriculars during high school, so I talked it over with my parents during my freshman year and decided that Scouts would be the thing to drop. I took about two years off, and then my old scout leader started an Explorer group for boys and girls together. It was all the fun parts of scouting (camping, canoe trips down the Colorado River, Jamborees) without the stupid merit badges or pressure to advance in rank. It was basically a subsidized, well-organized social group.

But then somebody pointed out that I was only a few merit badges away from being an Eagle Scout. I didn't have the time to do it, but it seemed pretty stupid not to just finish it up and have that extra line on my resume. So I stayed up a lot of late nights and got it done. My Eagle Scout Project was actually a lot of fun. My parents were off in Rome the weekend I did it (which they still deeply regret), so I got all sorts of neighborhood people together, invited all my favorite friends, and we did a bunch of manual labor. It was great! Seriously! To this day, it's still cool to drive past the site and be able to say "I built that!"

If any of you have ever been to an Eagle Scout Ceremony, it's usually an extra 15 minutes tacked onto the end of a normal weekly scout meeting, maybe with some punch and cookies afterward, and your whole family comes. But no, not me. My mom went crazy. It was a lot like a wedding, in fact. There were about 250 people there (including numerous family members who'd flown in from all parts of the country to surprise me). A live band played the national anthem. The Mayor delivered a poem he'd written about me, and on behalf of the city council declared that day "Matt _____ Day" in my city, with a gold-leafed proclamation and everything. Representatives of my Congressman and Senators spoke (one of whom presented me with a flag that had been flown over the U.S. Capitol building in my honor). My mom even arranged to have a live bald eagle there, but it unexpectedly died just a few days before the ceremony. Oh yeah, and everybody brought a gift. I made out like a bandit.

Before and after that event, I traveled the world with the Scouts (at one point appearing on live TV being broadcast to 100 million people), and served as a merit badge counselor to younger scouts. I went on innumerable hikes, camping trips, and other adventures. I shot off model rockets and climbed rocks, and made a lot of friends.

So, needless to say, Scouting was pretty important in my life. I was never gung-ho in the traditional sense (I have totally forgotten how to tie most knots, and couldn't start a fire without a match to save my life). But I did it in my own way, and I had a lot of fun. I always planned to be a volunteer leader as I got older, because I thought the organization had so much potential to make a difference in the lives of boys.

I have ultra-progressive friends who would projectile vomit if they heard me say anything to intimate that gender matters, but I do think it's important for boys to be mentored by older boys and men. I think it's good to take boys away from the society of women every now and then. I was never a very rough-and-tumble kid, and I often got a little homesick. But there's something to be said for getting dirty, learning to cuss, learning to take shit from older boys, winning and losing at tug-of-war, and swimming a mile in the cold Pacific Ocean.

I think the Boy Scouts is excellent at teaching a boy to feel self-sufficient. In modern Los Angeles, I'm almost positive I'll never need to tie a tourniquet or build a shelter out of found materials or use a compass to navigate. But if a 13 year old boy can be made to feel as though he could survive if he had to, that he's not totally dependent on 911 and supermarkets and mom's minivan, he will grow up to be a more confident, self-sufficient man. If he learns at 12 to take a joke from a 16 year old without crying to his mom for protection, he'll be able to stand up for himself at work and in politics. If he is made to improvise a skit in front of a campfire, he'll learn that he can be creative and funny. If he learns the value of being "trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendly, courteous, kind, obedient, cheerful, thrifty, brave, clean and reverent", even if he doesn't always hold to those ideals, he will be a better person. (If you were wondering, yes, I just recited the Scout Law from memory.)

Even when I was young, I realized that Scouting wasn't as helpful for me as it was for others, because I had a family who taught me a lot of these things. But there were kids in my troop whose lives were transformed. I'm thinking of one kid in particular who was being raised by his mom and grandma. He was about as effeminate as a person with a penis can be. Long, delicate fingers with long manicured nails. Perfectly white skin from never going outside. Plenty of baby fat he never worked off. He spoke with the long, nasally vowels of an aristocrat (even though he wasn't one). He was the precious baby boy of two doting women with nothing else in their lives, and was weak. He was in junior high and still had no clue how to do anything for himself. People instinctively disliked him because he was a pushover. And he took a lot of shit in the Scouts. But he also got his first sunburn. He learned that his soft hands were capable of chopping wood and putting up a tent. He learned that his assmar didn't prevent him from hiking to the top of a mountain. He learned that when he stopped saying condescending things to other boys and just participated, the boys had no problem with him. He made friends, earned respect and built confidence. In short, over the course of 6 years, he became a man before our eyes. I saw him recently, working at REI as an expert in rock climbing and other outdoor sports. Gee, where do you think he developed his passion for the outdoors?

And then there's Dale. Boy Scouts v. Dale is a Supreme Court case that upheld the right of the Scouts to exclude gays and atheists from the scouting movement. If you're interested in the legal acrobatics, you can read that link. But it's not really about the law. Actually, I agree with the outcome of the case, as far as it goes. Private organizations should have the right to discriminate however they want, as long as they're not subsidized or supported by the government. If I'm having a dinner party for some gay friends, the government should not be able to force me to invite two homophobic straight guys who also want to come. It's my house, it's my private event, and it's none of the government's business. However, if I'm holding my party at a public school, or if I get a tax break when I purchase the food, that's another story. (Of course, the Scouts ARE subsidized and supported by the government, but I'll leave that for another day).

But having the right to do something doesn't make the doing of it right. The organization claims that part of its mission is to uphold the virtues of heterosexuality and religiosity, so they shouldn't have to invite homos or atheists to their dinner party. Insofar as that's true, they'd be within the letter of the law. But I don't believe that really is (and if it is, it shouldn't be) the mission of the organization. The point is to make men out of boys. It's to teach valuable lessons and inculcate worthwhile virtues.

I just don't believe gay or atheist boys are incapable or undeserving of the lessons that Scouting provides. If anything, they need them more because they're going to face a lot of crap in the adult world that straight people and Bible-beaters don't. They need to be self-sufficient and confident. And I don't think gay men or atheists are incapable of teaching those lessons or passing on those virtues. I am just as much of a man as I was when I became an Eagle Scout. In fact, I feel like I embody that Scout Law a lot more than I did when I was in the closet.

I'm not exactly sure why the Scouts is so anti-gay. The Mormon church officially adopted the Boy Scouts of America as a church youth program, so their control over the organization goes a long way to explain the anti-gay policies. But I think there's still that stereotype that gay = pedophile, and pedophile + 11 to 18 year old boys + skinny dipping in a mountain lake = guaranteed sexual abuse in the tents after the campfire is doused. I'm sure it goes without saying that that's offensive and absurd. The Scouts screens potential leaders, just as any youth organization should.

So that's why I call myself a "former" Eagle Scout. It's not the terminology I'm supposed to use. You don't "earn" the rank of Eagle. You "become" an Eagle. But I'm ashamed of the organization. I will not be putting it on my resume, because by so doing I proclaim that I believe what they believe. And I will not proclaim that discrimination against gay teenagers is acceptable. Until they want the whole me, I don't want them. And I've told them so. Backed up by the Supreme Court and the Mormon Church, I'm not hopeful that things will ever change. And that makes me sad. It could be so good for so many people.

life after school

How do you make friends when they're not handed to you on a silver platter? In school, from kindergarten on, there is a built in group of people to hang out with. In class, in clubs, on sports teams...its so easy! Out of a classroom full of people, there are bound to be one or two you get along with. And your parents and teachers basically structure your life toward helping you make friends.

But what about in the real world? I've never NOT been in school, so I just don't understand how it works. The people at work are ok enough, but meh. It's a little awkward, and we don't click all that well. Same with my neighbors. So I guess friends aren't hand delivered in the real world. I'm going to have to work for them.

But where do I go? What do I do? People keep suggesting a gay football league. It's a good idea, but